Today’s sermon concentrated on opening one’s heart to those in need. It spoke of forgiveness and tolerance for those less fortunate. Elsie listened as the reverend quoted from the scripture, Mark 11:25.
“And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”
The words made Elsie think about Virgil. Though his betrayal had hurt her deeply, she was working at finding it in her heart to give him full forgiveness.
“I beseech each and every one of you to look around you, to find those who have wronged you, and to forgive them. Because only then will you find the power to live your life freely. Only then can you open your hearts to help those in need. Heartston is a small but loving community. We are so blessed to have people who are willing to open their arms, to offer comfort and support for the less fortunate.”
She glanced at Will out of the corner of her eye to see if he was listening. He sat tall against the seat back. His eyes were narrowed in concentration. She wondered what he was thinking about. Could there be someone in his life he needed to forgive?
She felt uplifted by the sermon, as if the words were meant for her and this small family she now lived with. Minnie’s head rested against her side, and Harry had finally quieted in her arms. With Will by their side, she found herself wishing for more. Elsie took some comfort in knowing that for now having Harry and Minnie to care for would have to suffice.
The sermon ended and the congregation sang the closing hymn. They walked out into the brilliant sunshine. Harry tugged at her skirt.
“Miss Mitchell, we behaved, didn’t we?”
With the exception of all the fussing and fidgeting he’d done, she thought they had behaved.
Looking down at Harry and Minnie, she answered, “Yes. You and your sister can go join the other children for refreshments.”
But Minnie didn’t go with him. Instead, she stayed by Elsie’s side. Elsie shielded her eyes from the sun as she watched Harry run off to the backyard, where a long table had been assembled and filled with homemade cookies and pitchers of fresh lemonade. Harry jostled his way into the line of children. Elsie looked at Minnie, who stood with Hazel in one arm and seemed a bit bereft without her brother near her.
“Would you like a cookie and drink, Minnie?” Elsie asked, gently taking hold of her free hand.
Minnie shook her head.
“All right then, we’ll wait here for your brother.”
Will came up beside them. “Nice service.”
Elsie smiled up at him. “Thank you for accompanying us.”
“All part of our agreement, Elsie.”
“We agreed to address each other properly when in public, Mr. Benton.”
“You’re correct, Miss Mitchell. I forgot.”
She looked around to make sure no one had heard him address her in such familiar terms. It wouldn’t do for any more rumors to be started about their arrangement.
John Oliver approached them. Tipping his hat, he said, “Good day, Elsie and Will.”
“Hello, Mr. Oliver. Isn’t it a fine spring day?”
“Indeed. I hate to interrupt, but I need to speak to Will.”
Elsie watched the two men saunter off to the edge of the churchyard. They bent their heads together, speaking in hushed tones. What could that be about? It seemed she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out because Will was making his way toward her.
“I have to go to work.”
“On the Lord’s Day?”
“It can’t be put off any longer, Miss Mitchell. I believe I told you this morning that I had work to attend to on behalf of the Oliver Lumber Company. Besides which, I just held up my end of the church part of our bargain.”
“Yes, you did.” Peering up at him, she added, “I sincerely hope you came away with some good thoughts from the service.”
He grinned. “What I came away with is the thought that not a lot has changed about sitting through a preacher man’s long-winded sermon since I was boy.”
Elsie just felt thankful that he’d joined them at all. “Will you be home in time for supper?”
“I’m not sure how long this will take.”
Hiding her disappointment, she said, “We’ll see you later, then.”
Tipping his hat to her, Will set out in the direction of the Oliver Lumber Company office. As soon as he was out of sight of Elsie, he veered to the right down an alleyway. Moving into the shadows of a row of stacked, empty shipping crates, he kept close to the outside wall of the saloon, looking for a back entrance. Finding it situated between some beer kegs and yesterday’s trash, he opened the door and entered a dark hallway. He passed by a closed door through which the sounds of muffled female laughter could be heard, followed by the deep rumblings of a male voice.
Will pulled his long duster coat closer, hiding his sidearm. A smoky haze filled the barroom. He could smell stale beer and whatever the day’s meat special was. Empty peanut shells crunched under the heels of his boots as he made his way to the last vacant spot at the long pine bar. Looking at the reflections in the dingy mirror, he studied the raucous crowd of lumberjacks and saloon girls. Three bearded men were lined up at the opposite end of the bar, doing shots of whiskey.
A pair of saloon girls sidled up to them. He caught the eye of the redheaded one. Lily came up to him and wrapped her arm around his waist.
“Hey, stranger. You want to dance?”
Will bit back a laugh. Lily was certainly getting into her role. “Not today.”
“How about you buy me a drink instead?”
“All right.” He ordered two beers.
Picking up a mug, Lily tapped the rim of his. “Cheers!”
Will continued to scan the room. Where was the thief hiding? When would he trip up and leave them a clue?
“He isn’t here.” Lily commented.
“I know.” He wrapped his hand around the mug. Rolling his shoulders back, he tried to relieve some of the knots at the base of his neck.
Keeping up their ruse, Lily pressed her body against his. “You seem to be on edge, Will.”
“I’m fine, Lily.”
“I think you’re a bit off your game.”
His gaze hardened. “I’m fine.”
She backed away from him. “All right.”
He took hold of her hand, pulling her back. “I’m sorry.”
“We need to work together, Will. There’s an abandoned farm a few miles north of town. Go out there and take a look around.”
She pushed the beer mug away from her. The bartender came over.
“I think you got a customer looking for a dance partner.” He nodded in the direction of a short bald man who stumbled toward them.
Lily looked at Will, rolled her eyes, and then let the man sweep her off onto the dance floor.
Laying a coin down on the bar next to the untouched beer, Will paid his bill and left. He stood at the edge of the walkway, waiting for two wagons to pass. He walked through the wake of their dust to the stables. Once there, he hired a mount and left town.
Will headed in the direction Lily had indicated, up the hillside that curved along the back edge of the village. The innocent sound of children’s laughter faded away behind him as he and the horse climbed toward the base of one of the mountains.
The horse picked its way through small patches of lingering snow. A cold draft surrounded them as the sun darted behind a cloud. Will burrowed into his duster, wishing he had on his heavier shearling coat instead. He nudged his knee against the horse’s flank, urging the mount to the left. There wasn’t enough daylight left to explore farther up the mountain.
Up ahead he spotted a flock of sparrows diving and darting along the path of the spring winds. The horse tugged against the bit, and Will loosened his hold on the reins, letting the horse wander to the south. Here the earth gave way from rocky outcroppings to hard-packed, half-frozen muddy pathways. Will turned the horse downwind, following what looked to
be an old cattle path.
They came to a group of farm buildings surrounded by an overgrown pasture and a crumbling split-rail fence. He could see a two-story house. Some of the siding had fallen off, and boards covered the broken windows flanking the front door. The shutters on one of the windows dangled in the breeze, held on by a single surviving hinge. The place looked abandoned.
The base of Will’s neck tingled. He rubbed the spot. Pulling the reins in, he brought the horse up short. The mare pawed lightly at the ground. Dipping her head to the earth, she found a few sprigs of new spring grass to munch on.
Will sat up tall in the saddle and took in the deserted house and barn. This had to be the place Lily had told him about. Dismounting, he led the horse along while he checked around. He came across more pieces of fallen siding, a broken wagon wheel, and what looked to be the remains of a woodshed. He knelt beside a set of animal tracks. Rubbing his hand over the indentations, he thought they could be from a deer. He’d seen small herds of them out in the back fields on the outskirts of town.
Standing, he looked toward the old homestead. The nape of his neck itched. Will couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary here. And yet his senses were telling him something different. The horse looked at him as if to ask, “Are we done here?”
Leading the horse out into the open, Will walked up an overgrown pathway that stopped at the remains of a front porch. An old hitching post listed to one side near the bottom step. Will looped the reins around the post and left the horse. A thick forsythia bush hid half of the bottom step. Will picked his way around it. Climbing along the edge of a rickety board, he stepped up onto the porch.
He jiggled the handle on the front door, surprised when it gave way. Pushing the door halfway open, he looked through the shaft of light into what used to be a hallway. Dust motes floated through the musty air. He caught the scent of old decay. Off to his right stood a staircase covered in cobwebs. Wandering over to the base of it, he noticed that none of the webs had been disturbed. Their wispy tendrils wove unbroken over the steps connecting to the newel post.
Turning away from there, he walked along the opposite wall until he found a doorway. Looking inside what appeared to be some sort of a sitting room, he saw an old ladder-back chair. The caned seat had long ago been worn through. From the light slanting through the boarded-up windows, he could see a thick layer of dust covering the floorboards. A trail of mouse tracks meandered around the walls of the room.
Satisfied there were no signs of human life here, he poked his head into two more rooms. At the back of the house he found a room with a low, slanted ceiling. A rusty cook stove took up half of one wall. Next to that was a door that he assumed led to the backyard. But that was not what caught and held his attention. Moving to the stove, he knelt on the hard-packed dirt floor to inspect a lopsided stack of wood. The pieces of wood weren’t logs at all. They were sticks and twig branches that looked as if they might have been collected from the surrounding woods.
There wasn’t a cobweb or speck of dust on them. He put his hand on the front of the stove. It was ice cold to his touch. He ran his fingers over the dirt floor, trying to find any sign that someone had been here recently. It was hard to discern whether the indents he felt were from a boot or just another sign of the aging property. Standing up, he went out the back door. Slowly he walked around the outside of the house, coming full circle back to the hitching post.
The mare nickered, pawing her front hoof along the ground.
Will patted her side. “I know you’re ready to get moving. I’ve got one more thing to check on.”
He repeated his earlier movements around the perimeter of the barn. Here and there he knelt down for a closer look at the patterns in the hard earth. Shaking his head, he finally came back around to the front of the barn, satisfied that no one had been here in a while. Maybe the wood pile in the house had been gathered by a vagrant.
He gave one last look around, thinking that maybe whoever had been here had moved on a long time ago. Even if that were the case, Will decided he would come back out here in a few days to check on things. Going back to the mare, he released her from the hitching post and swung up into the saddle, turning the horse toward town.
From the back of the barn, Virgil waited for the man to ride off the property. A trickle of sweat dripped off his forehead. Stepping out from behind the stack of hay bales, he crept to the front of the barn. Pulling back one of the doors, he stepped outside. That man had come out of the hills. Virgil didn’t know who he was. But one thing was for certain: the way he looked around, kneeling to check the tracks on the ground—snooping inside the house—he moved like a lawman.
Stepping out into the shadows, Virgil walked to the house—the house where he’d been born and raised by his God-fearing parents, gone nigh on five years now.
Careful not to make any new tracks, he stepped inside the footprints the man had left behind. He entered the back door. His gaze fell on the wood he’d collected earlier. Now that the man had been poking about, Virgil couldn’t risk having a fire in the cook stove.
Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a hunk of the hardtack. He sat cross-legged on the floor with his back up against the wall. Sticking the shoe leather–like substance between his teeth, he tore into it like a starved animal.
He stuck his tongue out, running it along the edge of his lip, feeling the ridge of the cut he had gotten last week. The night he’d been in a fight in the Albany alleyway was still fresh in his mind. It’s why he’d come back to the Adirondacks. Time was running out.
He’d been evicted from the prestigious Saint Anthony Hotel on State Street three weeks back for failure to pay his bill.
His instincts, what remained of them, had told him to keep his newfound secret stash hidden away. So he’d left the hotel, finding refuge in a hideous excuse for a rooming house, the stash secured. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d come by these reserves. A few months back he had stumbled upon a drunken hobo in a railroad boxcar he was traveling in. The fool had bandied about the fact that he’d come upon some stolen railroad bonds. Virgil had waited for the man to pass out and then fleeced him of the bonds. They were precious pieces of paper, and he refused to use them to pay for something as unworthy as simple room and board. He wanted to keep them for a bigger game. Except when he’d found and played the bigger game, he hadn’t been prepared.
Because he’d heard the rumblings and rumors about how those bonds were being hunted down by lawmen and bounty hunters alike, Virgil knew he had to hide them until there came a time to either sell them to another disreputable person or use them in a card game. He’d become aware that the Pinkerton Detective Agency had been hired to locate the bonds and knew time was of the essence. And then, in what he could only call divine providence, he’d run into his former fiancée, Elsie Mitchell.
Elsie may have still harbored resentment toward him for the way he’d jilted her, but she also had a weakness to forgive those less fortunate. His trust in that sent him to her the very next day, asking her to take the envelope where he’d carefully sealed the bonds.
If anyone had been following him over the past decade, they could have foreseen his downfall. From the time he’d been a young lad pitching coins in the school yard, Virgil had loved the feel of taking a chance. No matter what the stakes, what the cost, you could count him in the game.
Years ago when his mother had learned of his sins, she’d quoted from the Bible. “No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”
Virgil had chosen the latter.
Staring into the fading daylight, he started planning his next move. He didn’t know whether Elsie had discovered what she’d been keeping for him. What if she knew and decided to give the bonds to the authorities? What if his creditors were closing in? His head started to ache. He shivered. Laying himself on the floor, he curled up, trying t
o find any warmth he could. He looked at the cold stove, wishing he could have a fire. He closed his eyes and thought about getting the bonds back.
The walls were closing in on him. He shivered again, drifting off.
Chapter Nine
Elsie rolled over in her bed, blinking remnants of sleep from her eyes. Underneath the edges of the drawn curtains, the soft pink glow of dawn seeped into the bedroom. Snuggling deeper beneath her quilt, Elsie wiggled her toes, wondering what had awakened her at this hour on a Saturday. The one day of the week when she didn’t have to be up at the crack of dawn, and here she was wide awake. Her nose twitched. She smelled coffee. Pushing the covers aside, she sat on the edge of the bed. She heard the sounds of footsteps moving about the kitchen. Then came the distinct sound of the motion of the sink pump handle. A steady stream of water splashed against the bottom of the sink.
Poking her feet under the bed, she located her slippers. Sticking her feet in them, she stood up, took her robe off the bed post, put it on, and quickly made her way to the door. Cinching the belt securely around her waist, she slowly opened the door and peered out.
“Will! You’re home!” Surprise and relief flooded through her. Stepping into the kitchen, she noticed his pants were covered in dried mud. He stood in stocking feet. She could only imagine that he’d left a pair of equally muddy boots outside.
He turned around. “Elsie! Good morning. I’m sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet.”
The room was shadowed in the early light of day. Elsie quickly made her way to the table. Taking the globe off a lantern, she lit the wick. “Are you hungry? I could make you some eggs and bacon.”
She bustled about the room, gathering up two place settings. “The children collected the eggs from my mother’s henhouse. My father has offered up a portion of his flock to us. We were out there for dinner this past Sunday. They love the farm; it’s so different from living here in town. You should have seen Minnie running after those hens! I think she could be starting to trust others a bit more.”
A Changed Agent Page 10
