A Changed Agent

by Tracey J. Lyons

  Will asked, “You had a gentleman caller at the school?”

  “I did.”

  “Anyone I might know?”

  “He’s an old friend. Someone from my past.” Now why had she gone and added that? Will would want to know more. She had closed the door on that painful and embarrassing experience.

  “Elsie?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Is this man someone special?”

  Would it bother him if Virgil were still special? Because even if Will did not want to admit to it, there had been a definite shift in their relationship.

  She remembered how she had pushed him to talk about his past. It seemed only fair that she tell him about hers. She said, “We were going to be married.”

  His chair stilled, then started rocking again.

  “You sure don’t mince words.”

  “You didn’t expect my past to include a man. Is that it, Will?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. I already knew you were once engaged to be married.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Your friend Amy.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “She wasn’t passing along gossip, if that’s what you’re thinking. I believe she told me as a warning for me to treat you kindly. So, this man who came to see you, was he your former fiancé?”

  “Yes. His name is Virgil Jensen.”

  “If he bothers you for any reason, I want you to let me know.”

  “Will, I doubt he will do me any harm. He came by to ask me to return something to him.”

  “Now what could you possibly have that belongs to him?”

  “It’s a package he gave to me when he saw me in Albany. I’ll give it back to him the next time I see him, and then he’ll be gone. You’ve nothing to worry about, Will.”

  His hand shot out to cover hers, stilling her chair. “Elsie Mitchell, of course I worry about you! You’re a loving and caring woman—the prettiest schoolteacher I’ve ever seen—and I don’t want to see anyone hurt you.”

  With those words, he got up and walked off the porch.

  Elsie sat in stunned silence. If she ever doubted for one moment that Will had growing feelings for her, this just confirmed it. But what did it mean for the two of them?

  Chapter Twelve

  Will made his way over to the lumberyard, hoping he’d find John Oliver still in the office. Most days the man remained at his desk, working long into the night. He saw the lantern light spilling out the window into the alleyway outside the office. Tapping lightly on the door, he called out, “John, you in here?”

  “I’m in the back.”

  Stepping around crates of nails, Will walked through the narrow doorway into his boss’s inner sanctum. John barely looked up from his hunched-over position.

  “What can I do for you, Will?”

  “I need to know about Virgil Jensen.”

  Those words caught his attention. John looked up at him through narrowed eyes. “Why?”

  Will took a seat in the chair facing the desk. “He stopped by the schoolhouse to see Elsie today.”

  John gave Will his full attention. “May I ask what Elsie told you about him?”

  Even though Elsie had put on a brave front, Will could tell she still carried around some hurt over the man’s rejection. And he didn’t know the specifics of why Virgil Jensen had jilted Elsie. He thought the man had to be an idiot to leave behind someone as kind and giving as Elsie.

  “She didn’t tell me much, just that they were engaged. She has something that belongs to him and he wants it back.”

  “Any idea what that might be?”

  “Just a package he gave to her when she was visiting her relatives down in Albany is all she told me. Do you remember them being together?”

  “They were together for such a short time. Virgil’s family had a homestead on the outskirts of town. His parents died a while back from influenza. He didn’t even come back for their funeral. They’re buried out in the back of the cemetery.”

  So Virgil hadn’t had the wherewithal to come back to attend his parents’ burial. Or maybe he hadn’t known of their passing at the time. Either way, a man not caring enough about his family to see to a proper burial didn’t sit right with him.

  He rubbed his hand along the base of his neck. “This place, is it about an hour north of here?”

  “Give or take. Why?”

  “I may have been out there the other day. I’d gone out for a ride and came upon a run-down farm. Had a barn, couple of out buildings, and a house that has seen better days. I looked around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.” He paused and then added, “I did get a feeling while I was there.”

  Cut from the same cloth as Will, John would know what Will meant. Most Pinkerton’s worked off their gut instincts. It was what kept them alive.

  “Maybe Virgil was there.”

  “Is he a dangerous person?”

  “I’ve never heard of him having any run-ins with the law. He kept to himself as far as I remember. I might have seen him going into the saloon. I heard some rumors about him being a gambler.” The corner of John’s mouth quirked up. “You feeling he might be encroaching on your territory?”

  It took him a minute to realize that John thought Will saw Virgil as a threat to Elsie and him. “Elsie and I have an agreement that involves the children and the running of the household, nothing more.”

  The lie rolled off his tongue too easily. The truth was, if his life were normal and he really could settle down, he’d pursue Elsie’s affections in a heartbeat.

  But as hard as he tried to keep his distance from the woman, she managed to be in his thoughts more than he cared to admit.

  John looked back to the paperwork on his desk. “If you say so.”

  Regret tugged at his insides. Will couldn’t afford to be distracted by any feelings for her. “I do. So what do you think Virgil is up to?”

  “I’m not sure. We’ll just keep an eye out for him.”

  “I know he’ll be coming around to see Elsie again. Maybe it’s time I stayed close to town for a bit.”

  “Agreed. You can work over at the lumberyard for a few days. That way you can have set hours every day.”

  For the first time in a long while his life had taken on a routine, something he thought had slipped out of his reach. Being on the road, moving from place to place, chasing the next assignment . . . that had been his life. Now he had a place to come to every night, a hot meal on the table, two young children awaiting his return . . . and the schoolteacher.

  She greeted him with a smile at the end of most days. And there were those days when she greeted him madder than a riled-up hornet’s nest—mostly because he’d been absent from the dinner table or more recently because he’d missed a church service. One thing was for certain, his life had become better because of her.

  And because of all that, he had more to lose.

  The wind had been blowing something fierce. Elsie had started the laundry at the crack of dawn, hoping to get all the bedding washed and hung up on the line before noontime. Though it was a good day for drying, she’d been struggling with the gusts for a better part of an hour now. The last of the sheets slapped against her side, leaving wet marks on her skirt.

  Slinging the sheet over the line, she managed to clip the clothespin snugly over the end of the linen just before another gust came barreling through the yard, picking up the empty wicker basket and tossing it about.

  With the wind whipping her skirts about her ankles, Elsie stumbled through the yard, chasing after the basket. She finally caught up with it, trapped between a pair of men’s black boots. She straightened up to see Virgil standing there.

  Virgil saw the look of apprehension in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to startle her. Quietly, he said, “Good thing I came along when I did, Elsie, or you would have been chasing that basket all over town. The wind is kicking up mighty fierce today.” He held the basket in his hands.

  Her
hair had come loose from the ponytail she’d tied it off in. Elsie batted the strands away, at the same time tugging the basket out of his grasp.

  “Virgil! What brings you here on this blustery day?”

  “I need to talk to you. I thought since it being a Saturday and all that you wouldn’t be tied up with the schoolchildren.”

  She took a small step away from him. He saw movement behind her. Two sets of little feet poked out from underneath the sheets drying on the line.

  “You got some company?”

  “I’m helping a friend care for his niece and nephew.”

  “I see,” he said, even though he didn’t.

  The children giggled. “Must be hard on you teaching all day and then having to come here to take care of children that don’t even belong to you.”

  “Virgil! You shush now, they might hear you.”

  Why it would matter if those young’uns overheard what they were saying he didn’t know or care about. Still he said, “I’m sorry.” Annoying her wouldn’t do. He’d come here for one reason and one reason only . . . to get his bonds back.

  The wind settled to a gentle breeze, reminding Virgil of how peaceful the Adirondacks could be. But he’d never forget how cruel the area could be either. The weather here could change in an instant.

  “What do you want, Virgil?”

  A young boy and girl stepped out from behind the sheets. Virgil recognized them to be the same ones who’d been playing in the school yard. Remembering how the boy had fallen and scraped his knee, Virgil nodded to him. “How’s your knee doing?”

  “Nothing but a little scratch. Right, Miss Elsie?”

  She didn’t take her eyes off Virgil as she answered the boy. “Yes, Harry. Your knee is almost all healed.”

  Virgil had a feeling he’d best be getting to the reason for his visit. He said, “About that package you’ve been keeping for me?”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake! What on earth is so important about that envelope? I already told you I left it at my parents’ house. I’ll bring it here after church tomorrow. Is that time enough for you, Virgil?”

  Her anger left him feeling jittery. He didn’t need her to be getting all uppity with him. Not now, when he was in such dire straits. He shoved his hands in his front pants pockets.

  “There’s no need for you to shout at me.”

  “Virgil, after what you put me through, I’ll shout at you if I want to!”

  The little girl had come to stand in the folds of Elsie’s skirt. She looked up at him wide-eyed, a thumb stuck in her mouth. Elsie brought her arm around the child, pulling her close to her side.

  “Miss Elsie, do you need me to go find Uncle Will?” the boy asked, looking ready to defend her.

  “No, Harry. I’m perfectly fine.” She stared hard at Virgil.

  He could see her pulse throbbing on the side of her neck. He had to gain control of this situation. And then he saw some of the tension drain from her face. She was looking past him. Turning around, he gave a start. Out of the shadows came a tall, dark-haired man. He wore his wide-brimmed hat low across his brow. In his arms he carried some short pieces of lumber and a length of thick roping.

  The last time Virgil had seen him, the dark pants and sidearm had been covered by a long duster coat. Now though, standing here in the very clear light of day, Virgil recognized him to be the same man he’d seen snooping around his homestead a few weeks back. Looking from Elsie to this man, he wondered what was going on here.

  “Uncle Will!” the boy called out and ran to his side.

  Setting the wood and rope down, he reached out to pat the boy on the head. He said, “Harry, I see we have a visitor.”

  “Virgil Jensen, I’d like you to meet William Benton,” Elsie said. “Mr. Benton works over at John Oliver’s lumber company. These are his niece and nephew.”

  So that’s what he’s told her, that he works for John Oliver? Virgil felt the color drain from his face. “You are living here in the house with him?” He pointed in the man’s direction.

  “In separate living quarters.”

  Virgil shook his head. He didn’t know this woman anymore. Why she would leave her family and move into town to take care of this man’s family, he didn’t know. But he knew for certain this man had told her he was a lumberjack, though Virgil felt it to the core of his being—William Benton wasn’t who he said he was.

  Elsie took him aside privately. “Virgil, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I will get your things to you on Sunday. I promise.”

  The sweat rolled from underneath his hairline down his neck. Rubbing his hand along the shirt collar, he swiped away the wetness. He just wanted to get the bonds and leave Heartston. In hindsight, he realized he shouldn’t have given them to Elsie in the first place. All this panic he’d been living with for the past few months had him making poor decisions. He’d get the bonds and sell them off. They could become someone else’s worry. Since he’d found them, they’d brought him nothing but bad luck.

  “Where should I meet you on Sunday?”

  “You can meet me back here. Come after suppertime.”

  He wanted to tell her to get here sooner, but he knew better than to disagree with her. After all, his future now rested in her hands.

  “All right. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  He fought the urge to look at Benton one more time. Keeping his head down, Virgil walked away. He overheard the man say to her, “Elsie, has Jensen been causing you trouble?” Quickening his pace, Virgil headed into town.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “No. Honestly, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  Elsie bent over to pick up the empty laundry basket. She needed to get the children’s laundry washed and hung out before the morning got away from her.

  “Why did he come by?”

  “He wants that envelope I told you about. I’ll get it when I’m at my parents’ house tomorrow, and then he can have it back.” Looking past him, she saw the pile of supplies he’d been carrying lying in the grass.

  Following her gaze, he said, “I’m going to put up some swings for the kids.”

  “Will! That’s wonderful. Harry and Minnie, did you hear that? Your uncle is going to be putting up some swings for you!”

  Rounding up the children, Will said, “Come on, I could use your help.”

  While Elsie went around the side of the house to wash the rest of the laundry, Will let Harry help him by handing him the tools he needed to get the project started. Winking at Minnie, he said, “You can let me know if I get the swings hanging straight.”

  As he worked, he thought about Virgil Jensen. Not at all what he expected from a man Elsie had been prepared to spend the rest of her life with. His clothes were tattered and worn. Though Virgil had clearly tried to wash up, Will had noticed smudges of dirt on the man’s neck, cutting a groove along the inside of his shirt collar.

  Something didn’t sit right about the way the man had shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes darting from Will back to Elsie. And the tingling sensation at the base of Will’s neck, the same one that had saved him many a time, had come back with a vengeance the minute he’d spotted good ole Virgil in the yard.

  Even Elsie and the children had appeared on guard.

  “Uncle Will?”

  “What?”

  “You really gonna climb this tree?”

  The three of them were standing underneath an old oak tree where Will planned to hang the swings. Its long, thick branches spread wide over the front yard. In a few weeks the leaves would fill in and shade the walkway and porch in coolness, protecting them from the summer heat.

  Holding the lengths of rope in his hands, Will eyed a thick branch protruding from the center of the tree. “Yup.”

  Craning his neck, Harry peered up. “That’s really high. You might fall.”

  Will followed Harry’s gaze. It really wasn’t any higher than ten feet. He imagined to a small child the distance seemed mighty high. “I�
�ll be fine,” he said as he found a foothold in the large tree trunk.

  Carefully he pulled himself up into the V of the tree, the place where the branches grew outward. Shimmying across the first sturdy branch he came to, Will stopped halfway out on the limb. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he dropped the first swing over the side. Then he tied the thick ropes into place. From his perch he realized he could see all the way down Heartston’s main street.

  Since it was Saturday, the town was bustling with people hurrying to do their errands. A line of customers spilled out onto the sidewalk in front of Amy’s bake shop, and the door to the post office opened and closed every few minutes with people picking up their weekly mail delivery. A gentle breeze carried the tinny sounds of the out-of-tune saloon piano. The swinging doors pushed open and out staggered Elsie’s former beau.

  “Well, I’ll be . . .” Will’s voice trailed off. He heard Elsie call and quickly turned his attention to her.

  “William Benton! You better pay attention to what you’re doing!”

  Looking down at her standing there with her hands planted firmly on her hips, with strands of her dark hair dancing in the breeze, he thought she was the prettiest sight he’d ever laid eyes upon.

  After tying the last of the knots, he shimmied down the branch and, resting his foot in the V of the tree trunk, hopped down to join her. The children ran to their swings, clearly delighted by his handiwork. He stepped closer to Elsie and, seeing her fidgeting with her hair, found himself unable to resist the urge to touch the silken strand she struggled with. Reaching out his hand, he took the lock from between her fingers and gently tucked it behind her ear.

  Her lips parted as she stilled. Looking down into her magnificent violet eyes, their color bringing to mind the wonders of springtime, he saw them darken. A light blush rode high on her cheekbones.