Her eyes brimmed with tears that sparkled in the light from the carriage lanterns. “Yes,” she stammered. “Oh, yes. Please, Christopher, move to Creede.”
“And?” he prompted. “You’ve got to make an honest man of me, Marigold.”
“And marry me. Move to Creede and marry me.”
He laughed. “All right, but only because you asked.”
“Christopher!”
He laughed again. “Come now, my future bride. Let’s get back to the party. I have every intention of kissing you to seal our bargain, but not out here in the dark all alone, and not while you’re holding a buggy whip.”
***
When they arrived back at the Tivoli Ballroom, Mary felt like she was walking on a cloud. She’d thought the evening couldn’t be more perfect, but she’d been wrong—now it really was perfect.
Before they’d gotten out of the buggy, Christopher had sworn her to secrecy, not only about the case, but their engagement. They needed to take things in order and do them responsibly, and she understood that, but she was certain that her crazy grin would give her happiness away.
They danced every remaining dance on the program, then drove back to the boarding house under stars that were as bright as any she’d ever seen.
“You asked me not to say a word about the case, and I respect that,” she said as they pulled up. “But may we please tell Patty about our engagement?”
Christopher grinned. “Do you think I’d ask you to hide such a thing from her? Of course you should tell her, but please ask her to keep it a secret too—just for now.”
“Thank you. It would break my heart if I couldn’t tell her.”
“I know.” He reached out and took her hand. “My goal in life, Marigold Olson, is to make sure your heart is never broken again.”
“It certainly seems to be working just fine at the moment,” she replied. “In fact, it’s beating so fast, I don’t know if it will ever calm down.”
“Is it?” Another smile touched his lips, and he slid his arm around her waist. This was it—the moment she’d been waiting for ever since he told her he’d most definitely be kissing her. She closed her eyes and leaned into his embrace, reveling in the softness of his lips on hers.
His other arm encircled her as well, and he held her close for a long minute before eventually letting her go. “How did I ever become so blessed?” he asked, leaning back and regarding her. “How is it possible that I was led here, to you? I asked Ranse, and he told me there are at least six other boarding houses or hotels in Creede. I could have ended up at any one of them if not for Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and look at all I would have missed.”
“There’s a very kind providence watching over us,” Mary told him.
“There must be. That’s the only explanation—if left to my own devices, I would have chosen the boarding house closest to Mr. Thurgood’s office. I never would have ended up here.”
He helped her down and escorted her into the house, then told her he’d arranged to take the buggy back to the livery by a certain time. He drove it off into the night, and she watched him leave through the window in the front room.
“I don’t even need to ask if you had a good time. I can see it in every bit of you,” Patty said, joining her at the window.
Mary turned to her friend, her eyes suddenly full of tears. “Life is so good,” she replied. “It’s so, so good.”
Patty gathered her up in a hug. “It’s about time you had a taste of some of the joy you deserve. Everything’s finally coming together for you, and I couldn’t be any happier for you.”
Mary stepped back and wiped her eyes. “Thank you, Patty. That means so much to me.”
Patty gave her a benevolent smile. “You’ve had a wonderful day, but you’re all worn out now. Why don’t you go on to bed, and I’ll lock up after Mr. Hoffman gets back?”
“That sounds wonderful, Patty. I appreciate it.” She turned to head up the stairs, but then she paused. “Thank you for being my friend all these years. How would I have survived without you?”
Patty smiled. “I ask myself the same thing about you.”
Chapter Ten
Three days had gone by, three days of mounting tension as Christopher and Ranse waited for Thomas Wells to reply to their summons. Christopher knew that regardless of what happened, he’d be retiring soon, and that knowledge had lifted an achingly heavy burden from his shoulders. He didn’t want to retire with this unsolved case hanging over him, though, and so he took his turn watching the train station along with the other men. Ranse also had a patrol going in town—nothing organized, but men assigned to keep their eyes open in case Wells rode into town on horseback or came by stage.
Mary and Patty had thrown themselves into a flurry of wedding planning. Christopher had decided to travel to Calgary on the fifth of the next month to speak with his superiors and tender his resignation. He would then return to Creede, and they would be married on the tenth. This gave his lovely bride just twenty days to prepare, but she didn’t mind—she’d said she’d marry him that minute wearing a kitchen dress, and she’d do it gladly. Such things warmed his heart.
The train pulled into the station with a hiss. He leaned against the side of the ticket office as he watched the passengers climb down to the platform, some on wobbly knees. He’d spoken with Mr. Medina, the stationmaster, and told him what was going on so the man wouldn’t think he was loitering, even though he felt like that’s all he’d been doing for days now. Loitering and wasting time when he could be doing so much more.
And yet . . .
There he was. Thomas Wells.
Christopher had seen him in person once before as he slipped out of a pub in Calgary. He hadn’t gotten a detailed look at him, but what he did see was burned into his memory because he was so frustrated that the man had gotten away. Now, watching Thomas Wells stride across the train platform, satisfaction filled his chest. After five years of chasing this man, of laying traps that never worked, of following him from town to town, Christopher Hoffman was about to find peace at last.
He stepped forward out of the shade of the ticket office. “Excuse me, sir,” he said just as Wells passed by. “I believe I have some business to conduct with you.”
***
The interrogation went on at length. Wells sat in a chair in the center of the marshal’s office, a deputy posted outside and another inside in case of an escape attempt, while Ranse and Christopher spoke to him. The only thing he’d admitted was that yes, he was Thomas Wells, and that yes, he had lived in Calgary for a short time after leaving England. He wouldn’t respond at all to the questions regarding his illegal activity, choosing to look around with a bored look on his face and pretending there was nothing whatsoever going on.
Finally, Christopher took a chair and sat down in front of the man. “I’m going to lay this out very clearly,” he said. “It really doesn’t matter to me one way or another if you say a single word. I have enough evidence against you for your dealings with the Hanover company in Calgary to put you in jail for a very long time—irrefutable evidence. Iron-clad evidence—which is fitting, actually, because you’ll be wearing irons when we take you back. I really only want the answer to one question.”
“Oh?” Wells looked at him benignly. “And what might that be?” His British accent clipped the air.
“You told Wendell Thurgood that you had an employer making his way to the States, and that he’d be arriving in Creede at some point. Was that the truth, or was that part of your elaborate scheme?”
Wells uncrossed his legs, then crossed them the other way. “It’s a pity you want the answer to that question so very badly,” he said languidly. “He could be on his way at this very moment, or he could have been a figment of my imagination. You will never know because I will never say.”
Christopher nodded. He had expected as much, and he was neither surprised nor disappointed. It wasn’t possible for a criminal of this sort to stay in the shadows for long, an
d if there was a new organization shaping up in the area, they’d get wind of it sooner or later. “All right.” He stood up. “You’ll be spending the night here in this quaint and cozy jail cell, and in the morning, you and I will take a little train ride back up to Calgary.”
Wells didn’t reply. Instead, he pressed his lips together and looked away.
Christopher indicated for Ranse to follow him over to the corner. “Keep a close eye on him tonight. Don’t give him any chances to escape, to hang himself—I want this man tried and imprisoned, and I don’t want one single thing to go wrong.”
“Understood,” Ranse replied. “I’ll oversee it personally.”
“I’m going to take up a position across the street,” Christopher went on. “I’ll be watching all night for any signs of movement.”
“Are you sure? I have enough men to cover it.”
“You know how much this case means to me. I want it wrapped up with a pretty bow on top to hand to the judge.”
“Understood,” Ranse said again. “I don’t blame you at all.”
Christopher left the office without another glance at Wells, then paused and leaned up against the outside of the building. What a tremendous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Five years of searching and investigating brought to a close, and now he could actually dream about a future. The feeling was heady, but he refused to let himself revel in it. Once Wells was delivered into the hands of the North West Mounted Police in Calgary, then he would celebrate. For now, he would remain vigilant. He absolutely refused for anything to go wrong with this transfer.
***
The following morning in the gray light of dawn, Mary gave Christopher a kiss before he climbed onto the train. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“Just the train ride itself will take a long time,” she replied with a smile. “I’ve looked it up—it’s thirteen hundred miles away. I’ll be all shriveled up by the time you get back.”
“Never. You will never shrivel. Or wither, or wrinkle.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I’m absolutely sure.” He touched her face. “Take care of yourself, Marigold. Plan that wedding, make that cake, sew that dress. I will be back, we’ll get married, and we’ll start our new lives together.”
She grasped his wrist before he could lower his hand. “Why do I have the most horrible feeling that these are the last words you’re ever going to say to me?”
“They’re not. I promise you.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I’m taking three deputies with me. We’ve searched Wells twice to be certain he’s not armed. He’s wearing handcuffs, and two men will be with him all the time. We’re not taking any chances—in fact, as soon as we cross the border, we’ll be met by another couple of Mounties who will help guard him as we bring him in. He’s not going anywhere, I’m not going anywhere, and everything’s going to be fine.”
“All those bodyguards for one lowly little criminal? Haven’t you been trying to convince me that he’s not dangerous?”
Christopher smiled. “It’s a personal vendetta. The more irritated I am with a suspect, the more officers I call in to help deal with it. No one’s getting away as long as I’m in charge.”
The train whistle blew, and Christopher gave her another kiss. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m coming back, Marigold, and I’m marrying you.” Before she could say another word, he turned, climbed up the steps, and disappeared into the train, where Wells had already been loaded up some time before.
Mary stood there and watched as the train chugged out of the station. She wasn’t going to be one of those silly women who sobbed her eyes out every time her man left, but she did wipe away a tear as she turned to go back to the boarding house.
Heston was waiting for her, his wagon already loaded with baggage and two train passengers looking for a place to stay.
“Mrs. Olson, these ladies were just telling me they’d like to stay in a clean, respectable house off the busy road,” he said. “May I offer you all a ride?”
“Yes, please,” Mary told him with a smile, then turned to the others. “I’m Mary Olson. Let me show you my establishment—I believe it’s exactly what you’re looking for.”
Chapter Eleven
Mary and Patty managed to keep themselves busy with wedding plans, sewing a dress and preparing a menu of delicious cakes. Ariadne Thurgood was going to make several trays of delicate pastries, and Mrs. Deveraux was donating yards upon yards of beautiful satin. “I’ll also help hem the bottom,” she promised. “I wish I could do more, but there are so many orders right now, and you do realize, this wedding is coming up rather quickly.”
Mary just smiled. She knew it, and it didn’t bother her at all. If she’d had her way, she would have married Christopher on the train platform before he left.
The two new boarders, elderly sisters from Wyoming, volunteered to help as well, and Mary put them to work tying bows on little bags of mints. She knew that all these little touches weren’t necessary, but if she couldn’t get married on a train platform and she couldn’t get married in a kitchen dress, if she had to follow through with a traditional wedding, it might as well be the wedding of her dreams, and that’s what she was creating. When she married Vernon, it was nice and she’d been happy, but everything had been done so frugally, and she didn’t have ribbons on bags of mints or yards of satin. It was about time.
Mary stayed up late one night working on the right sleeve of her dress, watching the needle flash in and out until she couldn’t see straight anymore. For some reason, that sleeve just didn’t want to cooperate. At last, she put it to the side and climbed the stairs to her room. She’d been doing everything she could to stay busy and keep her mind off the fact that Christopher was still gone, but the loneliness had never really left. She just pretended it did.
Her head was aching when she finally closed her eyes, and her sleep was fitful. Her dreams were filled with images of Christopher’s face, his voice telling her that he was staying in Canada, that he’d never really intended to marry her, that she’d just been another in a long list and that he didn’t care about her. She had these dreams all night, tossing and turning as her headache grew worse.
By the time morning came, she was in a great deal of pain and couldn’t open her eyes to the light.
“Oh, dear,” Patty said as she draped a cool cloth over Mary’s forehead. “This is the last thing you needed right now.”
“I’m not actually sick,” Mary protested. “It’s just a headache.”
“Well, we’re going to let Dr. Thomas decide that. I sent for him a little while ago—hopefully he’ll be here soon.”
“Patty, do you believe in dreams?”
Mary’s eyes were closed, but she sensed when Patty sat down on the chair next to the bed. “Do I believe in them? Sometimes, yes. It all depends. What did you dream?”
“That Christopher isn’t coming back and that he never intended to.”
“Well, that’s a dream you can just toss in the rubbish heap. Those are your fears talking—not reality.”
“My fears are certainly convincing.”
“Most people’s fears are. That’s why they’re so powerful. But you hear me—nothing is going to keep that man from coming back. Why, I bet he’ll come bursting through the chapel doors just in time to marry you in front of the altar.”
“Oh, I hope not,” Mary said. “That would be the most horrible, melodramatic … I’d have to refuse to marry him if that’s how it came about.”
Patty chuckled. “Duly noted. I think I hear the doctor now—let me get him for you.”
Dr. Thomas checked Mary over carefully, then shook his head. “You’ve been letting yourself get overly worried, Mrs. Olson,” he said. “You have eye strain from all that sewing, and you’re working yourself into a state of nervous exhaustion. My recommendation is three days of bedrest with no handiwork and no reading. You must allow those eye muscl
es to recover.”
“But . . . but what if the sewing I’m doing is very special sewing?” Mary asked. He couldn’t tell her she couldn’t work on the dress—it would never get done on time.
He smiled with a twinkle in his eye. “Very special dresses have a way of getting made. Don’t you worry. And I mean that—worrying is part of your problem.”
After he left, Mary turned to Patty with a hmph. “That wasn’t very helpful. How are we supposed to put together a wedding when I’m not supposed to get out of bed?”
Patty looked thoughtful. “You let me handle that. For now, close your eyes. Doctor’s orders—and Patty’s orders too.”
***
Christopher stood at attention in front of his superior officer’s desk, waiting for the man to finish reading not only his report, but his resignation letter. It seemed to take a long time. Finally, Superintendent Kelly put down the papers and studied Christopher’s face.
“Good work, Hoffman,” he said, giving an approving nod. “You not only located this man, but you created a solid case against him complete with excellent evidence and reliable witnesses. I can’t see one point that you missed.”
“Thank you, sir,” Christopher replied.
“That’s why your resignation letter is so disheartening,” the superintendent went on. “How can I say goodbye to one of my best men? You never give anything but your best, and I know that if you take an assignment, it’s as good as completed. Your service record is impeccable—it would take me five men to replace you.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve appreciated my time with the Mounties, and I have given you my all. But it’s time, sir. I turn fifty on my next birthday, and it’s time to let the younger men step it up.”
Honoring Her Heart Page 9
