THIRTY-EIGHT
ate Monday afternoon, Tucker pitched a forkful of hay down into Titan’s stall. He repeated the action for Trojan and the four new horses. The repetition reminded him of his prayers for Miss Ida Sinclair. He’d been praying about her every few hours since Christmas Day, when he’d practically scolded her for her generous gifts to him and the others in Morgan’s home. He hated that he’d caused her such disappointment. She’d bought him a nice gift, and he’d let his pride stand in the way of accepting it with grace.
“Mr. Tucker, you in here?” The voice belonged to Otis, but the monotone was foreign.
“Up here.” Tucker set the fork against the wall and climbed down the ladder. He hadn’t seen Otis much that day, and he hadn’t expected to see him here after work.
His co-worker leaned against the back of the wagon. The shine had left his eyes. The perpetual smile was gone. He carried the weight of the world on his slouched shoulders.
“Mrs. Naomi all right?” Tucker asked. “The boys?”
“They’re fine.” The words came out flat as Otis stared down at the straw covering the barn floor.
Tucker tugged off his work gloves and tossed them on the wagon seat. “You sick?”
Otis shook his head.
“I’ll make some coffee. We can sit on the back porch.” Tucker escorted his friend out of the barn and latched the door behind him.
Twenty minutes later, the two men occupied the rocking chairs on the porch and stared out at a white blanket of snow. Tucker held his cup of hot coffee up to his face and breathed in its aromatic warmth. The other cup waited untouched on the table between him and the uncharacteristically quiet Otis. Tucker sat with his feet propped on the railing. Otis sat with his hands on his knees, looking as though the world was about to roll off his back and crash to the ground. Tucker could grow old waiting for his friend to speak his mind.
“Otis, I’m not as patient as you are.” Tucker set his cup on the table and slid his feet to the wood flooring. “Something’s wrong.” He straightened and looked his friend in the eye. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is.”
Otis leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. Tucker heard the snort of a man trying not to cry.
His friend’s words from the other night echoed in Tucker’s head and soured his stomach. “I’ll be able to do a whole lot more when my mine stock pays off.”
Tucker pressed the heels of his boots into the boards beneath them. “The stock you bought?”
A pained look overtook Otis’s face, and he nodded. “I lost it all, and more.”
“What do you mean ‘more’?”
“Boney said it looks like the certificate is just worthless paper.” Otis labored to speak every word. “Stock’s not even worth what I paid for it. I thought—”
“You thought it was a good investment. You thought you could earn more to better provide for your family.”
“It doesn’t matter what I thought.” Otis picked up his cup. “I was wrong.”
“You sure it’s as bad as all that?”
“Boney said the Olive Branch Mine didn’t pan out. The ore wasn’t high-grade after all. Report says it’s not even worth the diggin’.”
Tucker rubbed his forehead in frustration. Hattie had known Boney Hughes for nearly a decade. He’d been a friend of her late husband’s. Tucker trusted her judgment.
“Boney feels real bad.” Otis heaved a sigh. “Said your friend and her boss lady are rarely wrong in choosin’ investments.”
Tucker straightened. “Ida invested in the same stock?”
Otis nodded. “Boney followed her lead.”
Tucker had heard the talk in town. Many people didn’t like the tactics she’d learned from her employer, who profited from secrets heard in clients’ offices and the ignorance of others. Could he have been that wrong about Ida’s heart?
“Your lady friend probably lost a lot too.” Otis shook his head. “I know I’m not the only one hurt by this, but …”
Tucker’s concern for Ida wasn’t whether she’d lost money, but her physical and spiritual well-being. The business was ruining people. Not just financially. It was time Ida knew what Reverend Taggart had told him about Colin.
Tucker drained his cup and stood. “Hold on to the stock certificates for now. Let me look into the situation before you do anything.”
Thirty minutes later, Tucker stood in the doorway of Miss O’Bryan’s private office.
“Hello, Mr. Raines. How may I help you?” Before he could open his mouth to answer Miss O’Bryan, she raised her hand. “Just know I don’t need any ice, and I’m not in the mood for a sermon.”
Tucker drew in a deep breath and met her gaze. “Ma’am, people here are being hurt by what you and Miss Sinclair are doing.”
“And what exactly are we doing that is your concern?” Miss O’Bryan cocked her head.
“Garnering inside information from your clients and profiting off them and others who don’t have the benefit of your foreknowledge.”
“If you’re riled about the Olive Branch Mine stock, I’ll have you know I sank money into it too. I trusted Ida, and we all got hurt because of her mistake.”
She’d made a mistake? That didn’t sound like Ida. There had to be more to this mine stock calamity.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“She left me a note under the door this morning saying she was taking the train to Colorado Springs. I expect her back at work tomorrow morning.”
What he had to say couldn’t wait that long. If he didn’t find her at the depot, he’d go to the boardinghouse.
“Thank you.” Tucker walked out the door and took long, heavy strides toward the depot.
Ida was sure, if given the chance, the nervous energy inside her could enable her to outrun the train she rode, no matter its speed. She’d read and reread the assayer’s official report no fewer than five times. She’d spent the better part of the afternoon in Colorado Springs and found the answers she’d promised Mollie O’Bryan. Some of them, at least.
It turned out that the sample the assayer evaluated wasn’t the type of ore found in the Olive Branch Mine. Someone had switched the sample. When she and the assayer had realized what had happened, he had telephoned Mr. Blackmer to find out who signed for the sample before it was delivered to Colorado Springs.
Mr. Blackmer had claimed he’d personally handed the chunk of ore to his attorney, Colin Wagner. And according to the assayer, a man with hazel eyes, wearing a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat, had delivered the sample to him.
Colin Wagner. A leader in the church. A deacon. Mollie’s friend, whom she had trusted even if she didn’t always follow his counsel.
A few weeks ago, Ida wouldn’t have believed Colin was capable of replacing the high-grade sample with a counterfeit. But now her mind seemed set on reliving and analyzing everything he had said and done, starting with his warning to Mollie about one of her clients. Had his concern simply been a ruse to gain her trust?
During Ida’s work on the Raines Ice Company prospectus, Colin had told Tucker that what a person did was directed by his own conscience.
Not, necessarily, by what is right.
Judson had seen Colin with a man suspected of stealing valuable ore from the Mary McKinney Mine. Was Faith right? Was Colin living a second life in the shadows?
If so, why? What did he have to gain in switching the ore? Money, yes, but the attorney had already made a good deal of money. Because of his friendship with Mollie and Charles, Colin had access to the same privileged information they did. Why would the attorney want to sabotage Mr. Blackmer? Why would he want to dupe the stock exchange and hurt Mollie and countless others who had invested in the stock based upon the find in the new stope?
Ida folded the assay report and slipped it back into her reticule. The law would have to dig for those answers. Judson said he’d reported what he’d seen to a deputy. Perhaps with the evidence she’d gathered, the sheriff would have enough to a
rrest Colin, or at least investigate him more thoroughly.
In the meantime, she could use a little rest. She leaned against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. A few minutes later the train whistle blew, causing Ida to jump.
“Cripple Creek.” The conductor made the announcement from the front of the car as the train slowed for the final stretch.
Tomorrow she’d have an opportunity to redeem herself. Hopefully, her news would help them all find more answers. Then, if she still had a job, she’d decide what to do.
In the meantime, she yawned and draped her new silk-lined mantle over her shoulders, ready to hire a ride home and crawl into bed. So much had changed inside her since Christmas Day, since that night when she’d found herself broken at a crossroads, and repentant.
Ida stepped off the train and blinked to adjust her eyes to the post lanterns. The sun was sinking behind the Rocky Mountains and shadows stretched across the valley. Respectable women didn’t walk about town after dark. She looked around the platform for a porter who could help her find suitable transportation to the sheriff’s office.
Instead of catching the attention of a porter, however, she caught Colin Wagner’s gaze. He strolled toward her like he didn’t have a care in the world. Would he be able to do that if he were guilty of the improprieties she was investigating?
Am I looking at a friend or a foe, Lord?
“Good evening.” His smooth voice held no hint of guilt.
Ida took a deep breath. “Mr. Wagner.” She raised her chin a notch. “Are you taking the evening train?”
“No. Mollie said you were on a business trip and were coming in this evening. I realize you don’t want to see me socially—unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind.” A coy smile softened his features.
Ida shook her head.
“At any rate,” he continued, “it’s dangerous for you to be out alone at night. I was out taking care of some business of my own and thought I could give you a ride to the boardinghouse. Surely that would be permissible.”
Was she looking at a mere scoundrel, or someone who was even more of a threat to her than that? Did he know where she’d been and what she’d found out?
“I have other plans. Thank you.” Ida pulled her mother’s pendant watch from her reticule and turned it toward the light from the post lantern.
Before she could read the time, Colin snatched it out of her hand. His smile wasn’t that of a charmer, but the sneer of a snake. “What do you say we call this cat-and-mouse game a wash and get right to my proposition?”
“You’re being childish.” Ida straightened to her full height, fighting a surge of fear. “I’m not interested in hearing another word you have to say.” She held out her hand. “Return the watch.”
“I have a better idea.” His voice dripped with syrup. “How about you come with me, and I’ll see to it that not only do you get the watch back, but that Miss Hattie is released, safe and sound?”
He’d taken Hattie hostage? Ida’s knees threatened to buckle. Her arm fell to her side.
“I thought you’d see it my way.” Colin reached into Ida’s cape and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her off the platform.
Her boots sank into the snow, her spirit taking the plunge with them. Miss Hattie was in danger.
Trust in the Lord. Surely at least one of the many folks milling about outside the depot would notice them.
“Why couldn’t you and Mollie just learn your lesson?” Puffs of steam carried Colin’s words into the cold night air. “You should’ve kept your nose in your own business.”
As Colin charged up the street toward his buggy with her in tow, Ida’s thoughts proved as erratic as her steps. He’d switched the ore to teach her a lesson? Why wasn’t anyone helping her? She should call out, but she couldn’t. Her determination to get answers had put Hattie in danger.
Please, Lord. Keep Hattie safe. I’m trusting You. Please help me.
At the buggy, Colin stopped abruptly and stared at her, his grip still strong. “Women don’t belong in business. You and Mollie don’t belong.”
“Then why did you represent Mollie? Seek our secretarial services? Put in a good word for me?” Ida sighed. “Pretend?”
“I started out wooing Mollie. She would have eventually realized she needed to give up her business pursuits for me. But then you came along—more my type.”
Ida resisted the urge to spit in the despicable man’s face. An escape would require more of a distraction than that. She needed to be patient. Wait for the right moment.
“You’ve had your fun, playing in our world, but it’s time you realized your true purpose.” His voice softened and so did the lines at his eyes. “Your place is in the home with a man who can provide everything you need. Who can take care of you properly.” His breath hot on her face, Colin shifted his grip on her arm, expecting her to step up into the seat.
Ida rose to her full height and met his gaze. “You’re wrong, Mr. Wagner! My place is not in your kitchen. And I assure you that my true purpose has nothing to do with you.” She stomped the top of his foot and punched him in the gut with her other hand.
Snarling, he lost his hold on her long enough for her to run into the middle of the street. She nearly ran headlong into a young woman, painted up and baring her chest.
“Get the sheriff! Please!” Ida begged her. She recovered her footing and darted around several mules, hoping to see Boney Hughes, hoping the other woman was racing toward the sheriff’s office, but she didn’t dare turn around and risk losing ground. Clutching her aching side, she willed herself to keep running toward the Third Street Café.
Before she reached the safety of the restaurant, Colin jumped in front of her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You fool! You could have had it all.”
Behind him, a familiar ice wagon rounded the corner. And the man driving it needed only a moment to size up the situation. Ida had seen that look on Tucker’s face before, at the mud puddle.
“Wagner!”
Ida relaxed at the sound of Tucker’s familiar voice, firm as iron, yet smooth as butter.
Colin jerked around as Tucker jumped from wagon. Her captor shifted his grip to her arm, squeezing her tight to his side. “Raines is your ‘other plans’?”
Ida nodded, unable to take her eyes off the ice man with the perfect timing.
“If you don’t let go of Miss Sinclair this moment, your fate could meet you right here, saving you the trouble of a trial.” Tucker pointed behind them.
Ida was able to turn her head far enough to see Sheriff Snelling and his deputy standing within ten feet of her and Colin.
The younger man pointed a gun at Colin. “Do as the man said, Mr. Wagner. Let go of the lady.”
When he did, Ida felt herself falling. Then tender, strong arms scooped her up.
Thank You, Lord.
THIRTY-NINE
ucker watched Colin Wagner shuffle away with a deputy on either side of him and blew out a deep breath. Ida had given the lawmen enough information to arrest him, and it sounded like Henry Blackmer, Mollie O’Bryan, and many others would have a lot more incriminating evidence to offer them.
Tears trickled down Ida’s face. “I’ve made such a mess of things.”
Tucker pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and slipped it into the hand that held her mother’s pendant watch.
Staring up at him, she blotted her tears. “You’re certain Hattie is safe?”
Tucker nodded. “While you were talking to the sheriff, Deputy Alwyn told me that Judson stopped by their office today and told him you too had reason to suspect Colin of a crime. Alwyn went to the boardinghouse to follow up with you and had just returned from Hattie’s when a woman came in and told him and the sheriff what was going on in the street.”
A woman from Myers Avenue, to be precise. He intended to thank Felicia for her kindness as soon as he could.
“Colin’s threats were just a ploy to scare me? To make me go with him?” The pain in Ida�
�s moist blue eyes tightened Tucker’s throat.
“Yes.” He choked out the word.
“I trusted him.”
A bitter taste rose in his mouth. “Countless people trusted Colin. And many people stood to lose a lot of money because of what he did.” Tucker met her tender gaze and brushed a golden brown curl from her face. “What you did today—digging for the truth and standing up to Colin Wagner—took a lot of courage.”
Ida drew in a deep breath. “Tucker Raines, you were God’s answer to my prayers for help.”
Emotion tightened Tucker’s throat, and he swallowed hard. He wanted to kiss the woman he loved, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
“You’ve had a long day. I need to take you home.” He tucked his arm around her and led her to the wagon. The partial embrace wasn’t a kiss, but it felt mighty fine, nonetheless.
Thank You, Lord.
Riding down Bennett Avenue in the ice wagon beside Tucker Raines, Ida felt a contentment she hadn’t experienced in the office, the millinery shop, or at the stock exchange. And watching Tucker guide the two draft horses up Hayden to Golden Avenue, she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be.
Tucker wasn’t like any man she’d ever met. He never pretended to be something he wasn’t. He set his own work and plans aside to follow God’s plan for him and to meet the needs of his family. He was a man who had suffered the loss of a dear friend in a tragic drowning. A brother who had watched his sister spiral into a sorrow that took her away from him too. Tucker was also an honest example of what it meant to live life and fight battles carrying the shield of faith. His quiet strength had supported her and comforted her whether she’d deserved it or not.
She loved him.
He brushed the brim of his worn hat and tugged it down over one eye. “I think I’m ready for a newer hat. The one you bought me was nice and all, but—”
“It wasn’t really you.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“I didn’t mean to flaunt my money. I only wanted to give you a nice gift.”
“I know.”
Mona Hodgson Page 22
