An Undercover Detective's Bride

by Blythe Carver

  “I suppose I should let you be on your way, then.” He tightened his fingers around hers for the briefest moment, wishing with all his heart he did not have to let her go. How she would haunt him for the rest of his days. The sadness in her eyes, the slight tremble of her chin.

  She took one backward step, and he imprinted her on his memory. Her gray calico dress with the tiny purple flowers. The mass of dark, shiny hair gathered at the back of her head, loose tendrils floating about her face. How sweet she was, and how much strength that sweetness concealed. “Once more, I ask your forgiveness for what I did to you.”

  For an instant, he thought she referred to his heart. The way she had taken it over, the way she had invaded him. There was no need to apologize for that.

  This wasn’t what she meant, and he knew it. He looked down, his arm still in a sling though he suspected it would not need to be for much longer. “It’s healing beautifully, and there is nothing you need to apologize for. That’s all in the past.”

  How sad was her smile. “Yes. In the past.” With that, she turned away, and he had the distinct displeasure of watching her walk out of his life for good.

  He raised his hand in farewell, waving to the rest of the Reed sisters and to Lewis, who seemed pleased to be driving them home. He tipped his hat, while the girls waived handkerchiefs. Cate even went so far as to blow a kiss, which Mason accepted with a grin.

  “Goodbye!” they called out, their voices fading as the wagon rolled away.

  Only Rachel did not join in their cries. She chose to sit with her hands folded primly in her lap, her gaze directed there.

  If only she would look at him once more.

  It was not to be. It was never meant to be. Even there, in Baltimore, he’d known the dangers of becoming too interested in her. Even inviting her out for a cup of coffee had gone against his better judgment, though he’d been unable to resist.

  He supposed he ought to be grateful for that impulse, for it was the interest he took in her which led him to find her.

  He took a seat on a long wooden bench, staring out across the railroad tracks to the flat, empty land beyond. He knew the land was not truly empty, likely part of some ranch or another. Just like her ranch.

  He almost wished he could have seen it, just once. Just to know what her life would be like once he left.

  And what did he have to look forward to returning to? Certainly nothing like this. Nothing half so peaceful, air nowhere near as fresh.

  In spite of the still-healing wound to his shoulder, he had never felt as healthy and alive as he did in Carson City. He wondered if a life of working outdoors, among the horses and cattle and whatnot, would suit him better than one spent moving from city to city, never truly feeling at home.

  What was he thinking? He shook his head, unhappy with himself. There was no sense in allowing his thoughts to take this course. He had responsibilities, he had a life back in Pittsburgh. His uncle needed him, or at the very least, expected him to return.

  He had the feeling that no matter how old he became, no matter how many cases he worked for Uncle Robert, in the man’s eyes he would never be more than a wayward nephew in need of assistance. Perhaps that was always the way of it, family doing their best to protect family.

  He had certainly seen enough of that mentality in the last several days.

  He’d agreed at Rachel’s insistence to keep the matter of her intended escape secret. No sense in alarming her sisters, when it was now a moot point. “They’ll never forgive me if they know my intentions,” she had whispered after waking up from her fainting spell.

  At the time, he’d seen it as the least he could do. They were friends, after all. Friends did favors for each other.

  He would have to remind himself in the coming days of that friendship. Nothing more than friendship.

  Checking his pocket watch, he saw that a half-hour had already passed while he sank into dark, brooding thoughts. The train should arrive at any minute. He stood, looking down the long expanse of track, just as he had expected, a thin plume of smoke rose in the distance.

  The train which would take him away from Carson City, and from her, for the rest of his life.

  Several passengers exited the station, preparing to board. Now he was only one of them, just another passenger on his way home. And he would be going home, this was not home and never would be. He would do well to remind himself of this, no matter how many times it took before he committed it to memory. This is not his home.

  What if it could be?

  More importantly, what if Rachel was his home? Not a place, but a person?

  The woman he loved.

  The notion startled him, nearly enough to make him stagger backward in surprise. What if it only mattered that they were together? What if nothing else was nearly as important as the pleasure and privilege of seeing her every day?

  What if he could choose for himself?

  Of course, there was always the question of whether she wanted him. He wanted to believe she did, though he’d taken care against talking himself into believing otherwise.

  Surely, a woman whose eyes had reflected so much pain and so many unspoken words must have borne him at least a slight bit of affection.

  Regardless, he now understood one thing more clearly than he had ever understood anything else in his life, he could not leave until he knew for certain.

  Was he truly this foolish? Was this nothing more than madness? He couldn’t say. All he knew was he’d never felt such a sense of relief except when Rance handed him the telegram confirming Liam’s departure. Only that moment could compare to this one.

  He didn’t need to return to Pittsburgh. He didn’t need to leave her.

  And if she didn’t want him, so be it. He would go on with his life. What he could not do, however, was move on without knowing for certain what he was leaving behind. There was no harm in finding her and asking, flat out.

  He could always catch the next train.

  He signaled for the aid of one of the young men who made their living assisting passengers on and off the trains. “Would you mind taking my bags into the station and storing them behind the counter?” he asked, fishing a sizable banknote from his billfold. “I forgot a matter of business I need to attend to, and I believe I’ll have to take this evening’s train instead. I cannot carry in my left hand, so I would need your help in moving the bags.”

  The young man looked utterly agog at the sight of so much money. “Certainly, sir,” he breathed. “I would be happy to take care of it personally.”

  Mason was willing to bet he would. The boy was all but spending the money as they spoke, already prepared to have a time of it. “That’s good to hear. I’d be glad to give you the same amount when I return for my things, assuming of course that they are in good condition and nothing is missing.”

  “You needn’t worry about that, sir.” The boy all but scampered into the station. Mason suspected he would guard the bags with his life.

  Just as he hoped.

  He felt lighter than he had in a long time as he stepped off the platform and began the walk to town. He would stop in at the telegraph office send drop a line for his uncle, knowing his absence would be noted otherwise. He didn’t wish to cause any worry.

  After that, he would secure a horse to take him to the ranch. The Reeds would beat him there, of course, but he supposed he could make good time.

  Even with the use of only one hand.

  The day seemed sunnier, somehow. The air smelled more crisp. He found himself smiling at everyone he passed. He had made the right decision. Even when the sound of the train’s brakes echoed through the air and a thick, dark plume of smoke spread across the sky, he didn’t regret having walked away.

  If anything, he would have regretted boarding the train and rolling away from her.

  Upon his entrance into the telegraph office, Mason was greeted warmly. “Do you wish to send a telegram, sir?” the young woman behind the desk asked. She was
a pleasant sort, pretty enough. Nothing when compared to Rachel, naturally.

  “I do.” The girl handed him a slip of paper and pencil, on which he jotted down the quick note for his uncle. Have decided to stay one day more. Will alert you as to when you might expect me.

  He signed his assumed name to the slip before handing it to the girl. She looked over the message, then glanced up at him in surprise. “Mr. Smith?” He nodded. “I have a message here for you. Sheriff Connelly has been taking them as of late, and I assumed he would be in to retrieve it.”

  She slid a sealed envelope across the desk, which he quickly opened. It took three tries for him to make sense of what was before him, his mind struggling to understand in spite of the horror growing within him.

  O’Connor still in Carson City. Did not board train. Was a lookalike.

  He was out the door and trotting down the boardwalk before the girl was able to question how he intended to pay for the telegram he’d been preparing to send.

  There was no need to send it now.

  He was across from the jailhouse, moments away from running across the street to alert Rance, when a commotion outside the newspaper office caught his attention. Weeping women gathered outside, while a man called out for someone to fetch the sheriff.

  Mason approached, his heart in his throat. “What happened?”

  One of the women wept, “Mr. Grant. He has been terribly beaten, left for dead.”

  “He’s near death, from what I hear,” another woman whimpered. “How could anyone be so cruel?”

  It was as if she’d kicked him in the stomach. All of the air in his lungs left in one great burst, and stars swam before his eyes.

  Liam.

  And there was only one piece of information he would’ve been in search of.

  Mason looked around, finding a single black gelding tied nearby. It would have to do.

  He took one of the closest men by the lapel and hold him steady, until they were eye-to-eye. “Tell the Sheriff he’s going to the ranch. Tell him Mason says he is going to the ranch. He’ll understand.”

  “What?” the man stammered, clearly frightened by this. He probably looked deranged.

  “Just tell him. Mason says he’s going to ranch. I’m leaving now and will try to catch up to them. Tell him!”

  He went to the horse, untying its reins from the post and hoisting himself into the saddle with the use of only his right hand on the pommel. Before he could think to feel even a slight bit of guilt for stealing another man’s horse, he tore away.

  Molly had once described the ride from town out to the ranch. He only hoped he remembered it correctly.

  19

  How could they all sound so cheerful?

  Rachel couldn’t bring herself to engage in the frivolity all around her. She understood the relief her sisters felt, and would never begrudge them their happiness or the pleasure of knowing they would soon be home.

  In fact, she knew she would have behaved in a similar fashion, were she in their shoes.

  What did it matter? To them, they were putting an unhappy situation behind them. They were moving on with their lives.

  They did not understand that for Rachel, there would be no returning to life as it was before. She would never be the same.

  Not only because she had feared for her life. If only it were that simple.

  If only she could rid herself of the sense that she had just lost something she might never find again.

  Cate nudged her. “You’re very quiet,” she noted. “I would think you’d be laughing, rejoicing.”

  She tried to smile. “I am happy. Please, don’t mistake my lack of enthusiasm for unhappiness. The entire situation has left me quite fatigued. I look forward to nothing more than a long, long sleep in my own bed. I hope none of you expect to see me at dinner, perhaps even at supper,” she added with a forced smile.

  It was not entirely untrue. She was quite exhausted, though some of that came from a sore, bruised heart.

  He had not even kissed her hand.

  Not that she would have known what to do had he done so. She wouldn’t know how to react if he took liberties, especially while her sisters had been watching. Perhaps that was why he’d held back, when she sensed he wanted to do and say more.

  Perhaps she was merely lying to herself, and he was glad to be rid of her. Knowing the way her luck had run as of late, that was far more likely.

  “I shall miss him.” Cate looked around as if challenging her sisters to say otherwise. “He is a good man, and I enjoyed his company. He even told me I was wise, something none of you have ever bothered to do.”

  Holly chuckled. “You only like him because he flattered you,” she teased.

  “Perhaps I appreciate the company of men who have intelligence,” Cate sniffed, turning her head away.

  From his position behind the team, Lewis laughed. “I’ll try not to take that personally,” he called back.

  Even Rachel could laugh at this. It was nice, being with her sisters without a dark cloud hanging over all of them. While she already missed Mason and knew she would continue to miss him for a long time, she had to forget him. There was no other way.

  The team made good time. Each turn of the wheels took her closer to home.

  And further from him.

  Was he already on the train? Was he glad to be rid of her, glad to put Carson City behind him? Had he breathed a sigh of relief when she walked away and climbed into the wagon?

  Now he was free of her. He needn’t worry over her, or pay her more mind that need be.

  Yes, she could imagine he would be quite relieved to return to his life. He had a future in Pittsburgh, at his uncle’s agency. Perhaps one day they would be as well-known as the Pinkertons. Perhaps the agency would even be his someday, and she wished that for him.

  If that was what he wanted, she wanted it, too.

  Phoebe sat opposite her, watching closely. Until then, she hadn’t spoken word. She had only laughed at her sisters’ antics, but all the while she’d watched Rachel.

  Finally, it became unnerving. “What is it?” she asked, exasperated.

  “I only wonder how you’re feeling about this.”

  “How do you think? I’m on my way home, with all of you. I couldn’t imagine a more suitable ending, or one I desired more.”

  Phoebe pressed her lips together before sighing. “I have the sense of you not being completely honest, with either me or yourself.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” she hissed, staring at her sister. “This ordeal has taken a toll on me. What else do you expect?”

  It was impossible for their sisters not to take note of what was transpiring. “Are you unwell?” Molly asked, half-turning in her seat to look behind her.

  “I am fine,” Rachel snapped. “For the life of me, I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong. I don’t understand what you expect from me. Should I break out into song, should I sing of how overjoyed I am for this to be over?”

  “Oh, please, don’t sing.” Molly’s poor attempt at humor failed to impress Rachel, who glared at her.

  “Just for that, perhaps I will,” she snapped.

  “Do you know what I think the trouble is?” Phoebe asked.

  “I can imagine, and you’re wrong.” Rachel insisted.

  “What is the matter with admitting how close the two of you became? It is not a sign of weakness, on the contrary, it’s only natural that you would develop a fondness for him. Especially since you were already fond of him back in Baltimore. Now that you’ve gotten to know him better, it’s natural for your feelings to deepen.”

  “I would expect this from you,” Rachel replied. “Evidently, marriage has not calmed your romantic nature. Always looking for romance where there is none.”

  “Then I suppose you’ll not wish to hear what I have to say.” Molly looked rather sympathetic. “I believe she’s right.”

  “You, too?” Rachel asked with a sinking heart. “Just when
I thought I had at least one levelheaded ally.”

  “I don’t see what having a level head has to do with this.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. It was like talking to a brick wall. “None of you understand, and I would appreciate you keeping your opinions to yourselves. Mr. Murphy is out of our lives, on his way to Pittsburgh as we speak. That’s the way things are supposed to be.”

  If only she believed that.

  “Just because that is how things are, doesn’t mean it’s how they are supposed to be.” Cate rubbed her shoulder. “I might be the youngest, and I know none of you take me seriously, but I have a knack for seeing through people, especially when they try so hard to conceal what is truly in their hearts. And I could see it, plain as plain. He cared very much for you, and you for him.”

  Rachel’s chest tightened her words. So they had seen it, too. “If this were true, why would he have left so easily? Why didn’t he stay with me?”

  Molly heaved a heavy sigh. “That’s not for us to say,” she offered. “I suppose he had his reasons.”

  “And it isn’t as if you encouraged him to stay,” Phoebe was quick to remind her. “You might have told him how you felt.”

  Rachel gasped. “As if I would! Why would I make a fool of myself, when I knew nothing of his feelings or his intentions? No man wishes to have a woman offer herself to him when he is disinterested.”

  Yet would he have been disinterested? They had never gotten the chance to finish the conversation they’d begun in her room, before Rance had come in with the news of Liam’s departure. No matter how she told herself otherwise, she could not forget the look in his eye, the sound of his voice, how near he’d stood, and how certain she’d been that something was about to happen between them. Something she wanted very, very much.

  But Rance had interrupted, and she had fainted. Upon waking up, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Mason didn’t bring it up, which led her to believe it would be better if she did not. She’d resolved to forget it, to put it behind her. To chalk it up to nothing more than a moment’s madness.