by Lori Wick
“The name’s Barnes,” Pup said, approaching him and sticking her hand out. “Morton Barnes.”
Charlie shook the outstretched hand without thought and then watched a smile light Pup’s eyes. He had one to match.
“You had breakfast?” he asked.
“No, sir, I haven’t.”
“Come on in,” he said warmly and started toward the kitchen. “I’ll put some food into you and tell you what I know.”
22
Harry and Liz said nothing to their son when he came down for breakfast. Upon returning to the house, he’d gone to his room to clean up. He’d also taken some time for prayer, but his parents didn’t know this, having left him alone until the meal was ending.
“Callie left us a note,” Harry told him.
“She told me she had.”
“So you knew she was leaving, McKay?” his mother wished to know.
“Not until she came downstairs before daybreak.” He’d been looking into his coffee cup but now looked up. “What did the note say?”
“Just how much she enjoyed her stay and how thankful she was to God that we’d had this time.”
McKay looked into the confused faces of his parents and sighed. He had to tell them something.
“Callie doesn’t just live in the mountains; she has a job,” he said quietly. “The job takes her to different locations. She had to leave because she was called back to work. It’s not anything she would ever discuss with you, and I’m not at liberty to say more, but that’s why she left. It wasn’t because she wasn’t enjoying herself.”
His mother looked so relieved that McKay said a word of thanks that he’d been able to give her that much. His father, however, was looking at him intently. Harry didn’t say anything at the moment, but McKay was not at all surprised when he spoke to him privately before he left for town.
“It’s not that simple, is it?” Harry said without preamble after he’d asked McKay to walk him to the barn.
“What’s that?”
“This thing with Callie. You wanted your mother and me to feel at ease, but you’re not at ease yourself. I could hear it in your voice this morning while Callie was still here and again at the kitchen table. I don’t suppose you can tell me, Mickey, but I know you’re not happy about this.”
“No, I’m not,” he admitted, “but there’s little I can do about it.”
Harry looked at him. “I’ve never had to know what you were doing, Mickey. It’s never bothered me too much not knowing every aspect of your job, but this is personal. I know Callie must be tied into your work, or you’d be saying more, but I’m putting all of that aside. You’re hurting over this woman in a way that has nothing to do with the U.S. Treasury Department.”
Harry had always been plainspoken with his son, but never had McKay felt he’d been robbed of air. This was personal. Yes, he was worried that an operation was underway right here in Longmont, but mostly he was concerned for a dark-haired woman who’d been playing havoc with his heart since he’d met her. Romance was not on his mind, not as romances went, but Pup was. Such a thought didn’t make sense even to McKay, but it was true. She was the most fascinating woman he’d ever encountered. The realization was stunning; it was also very sobering.
Only days ago Pup had realized she’d accepted Christ when she was a child. McKay shuddered at the thought that he might have been this fascinated with a woman who was not a believer.
It wouldn’t have made any difference, McKay was able to tell the Lord immediately after the thought formed. I would still honor You, Father. I would walk away and never see her again before I would ignore Your command about both husbands and wives believing in You. Thank You, Father, that it wasn’t a problem. I don’t know what you have for Pup and me, but thank You that no matter what, she has You.
“Mickey?” Harry called his name softly. He’d been watching his son very closely.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” McKay came back abruptly. “Some things just came to mind, and I’m not sure what to do about them.”
“Are you in love with Callie?”
“I don’t know,” McKay answered honestly. “I’m fascinated, that’s for sure, but I don’t know about love.”
Harry put his arm around McKay. “Your mother and I think a lot of Callie, but your heart must be sure. I want to say, ‘Don’t let this one get away, Mickey. Hold on to this one.’ But that’s not right, even though of all the girls you’ve grown up with, she’s the one who makes me think that it would work.”
McKay could only stare at his father. He went on gently.
“She isn’t the type to sit and pine for you if you don’t come home on time, Mickey. In your line of work, your wife would have to understand the hours. I don’t think Callie would struggle with the fact that your job took you away. You might not want to travel forever; in fact, I think family is more important, but she’s the type of woman who could rise to the challenge if she had to.”
At that moment Harry saw that he was overwhelming his son. “Have I said too much?”
“No,” McKay answered, but he didn’t sound too certain.
Harry knew it was time to let the matter drop.
“I’ve got to get into town.”
“Right.” McKay wasn’t relieved exactly; he sounded somewhat stunned. He barely managed, “I’ll see you later, Dad.”
“I won’t bring it up again, Mickey, unless you want me to.”
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
McKay stood in the barn for quite some time after his father left, his mind on Pup and then on his father’s words. She isn’t the type to sit and pine for you if you don’t come home on time.
“No, she isn’t,” McKay said softly in the quiet barn. “Since she’ll probably be out on a job of her own.” No one but the cow and Peter, the extra horse, heard McKay’s sigh, but it was deep and heartfelt.
As early evening fell into darkness, Pup made her way from Barnes’ home dressed as an old bearded man. The wig, hat, and rumpled set of clothes for this costume made her look like a miner down on his luck. She and the shoemaker had spent the day together, and Pup had even gone so far as to “practice” on a few of Charlie’s customers. To a person they were delighted that Charlie had a cousin named Morton who had decided to visit from down south. She made her way slowly toward the evening sounds of Longmont’s downtown area.
The area contact had told her he would fill her in on what he had, and Pup had been surprised by how much he knew. As she had expected, an agent was under suspicion. Charlie had a name for her and a number of details, but Pup had had to work hard not to openly stare at him. Could it be true? she had asked herself, but the more Charlie talked, the more she understood: She had been totally blind. It had taken all of her will not to gasp from the emotions flooding through her or to show personal interest in the case. Contact or not, she was not about to let Charlie Barnes know more than he needed or how much his words had affected her.
Now she came to the first bar, lights streaming from the windows and open door. She stepped up to the threshold, the smell of smoke and whiskey assaulting her. Hers was not a huge task. “Gather information and keep your eyes open” had been the command from Nick. Simple as the assignment seemed, Pup knew it was going to be a long night with probably several other long nights to follow. Then again, if she was in luck, something might come up right away and she could relax again.
Pup was lost in thought about whether or not she really believed in luck when a gruff voice behind her inquired, “You going in?”
Pup mentally started but didn’t turn. As she stepped inside she reminded herself that her name was Morton Barnes.
McKay knocked a pan over in the kitchen and froze at the noise it made. He was up very early and intended to be as quiet as possible, but the pan had been hot and his hand had brushed against it. Using a thick towel, he retrieved the pan silently and went on with his breakfast preparations, thankful that it was at least light in the sky.
McKay had wo
ken early, very early, upon remembering that Longmont had a contact. Not in all these years had the young treasury man talked to Charlie Barnes concerning official business, but McKay had known he was there. Why Charlie’s presence had not occurred to him before now he didn’t know. Or did he? McKay pushed the thought away and cracked two eggs into the hot skillet.
“Mickey?” his father asked softly from the edge of the room.
“Did I wake you?”
“I heard a noise.” Harry came forward now. He stopped next to the small baking table and watched his son work over the huge black stove.
“I dropped a pan. I’m sorry, Dad.”
“It’s all right. What time is it?”
“I think just past five.”
“Are you leaving?”
“I have to go into town.”
“You actually have someone who wants to meet with you at this time of the day?”
The question stopped McKay in his tracks. He didn’t turn, but his hands stilled and then moved very slowly. What in the world was he doing? Charlie Barnes was not going to welcome a visit at this time of the day!
McKay sighed. He thought he had put his emotions aside, but it wasn’t true. He was still consumed with thoughts of Callie Jennings.
“You’re going to burn them.” Harry’s voice was calm.
McKay started this time and grabbed for the wooden spoon. He worked silently for a few minutes, aware that his father had poured himself a cup of coffee and gone to the table. His scrambled eggs and ham steak done, McKay took the bread and butter to the table along with his plate, joined his father, and settled down to pray and eat. All of this was done in silence. Not until McKay pushed his plate away did the men speak.
“You must still be thinking about Callie.”
“Yeah,” McKay admitted. “I thought I had it under control, but as you can see, I don’t.” McKay passed a weary hand over his face. “I’ve been awake for hours, and without even considering the other person, I’m headed out to pay a call as if it were noon.” McKay took a drink of his coffee and fell silent. Harry regarded him. It would be so easy right now to start a speech or quote Bible verses that his son already knew. But Harry knew that wasn’t what was needed.
“Do you suppose Callie will be back to visit?” Harry asked suddenly.
“No.” McKay’s voice was soft.
“You sound quite certain. Did you two have words?”
“As a matter of fact we did, but that’s not why she won’t be back. I certainly don’t know for sure, but something tells me her responsibilities will take her awhile.”
Harry knew he couldn’t ask for an explanation, so he drank a little more of his coffee.
“I take it you’ve decided to leave for town a little later.”
“Yes. There’s probably no need to hurry.”
Harry eyed him, wondering if he should remind his son that he’d come home for a rest. He opted against it.
“I wonder if Stan and Lisa are nervous,” Harry commented casually.
McKay knew what his father was doing and smiled. “Probably,” he answered and then admitted, “I think I would be.”
“Well, it’ll all be over tomorrow,” Harry went on. Thankfully the conversation moved to how many out-of-town family members would be at the wedding.
McKay was pleased over whom he was going to see, but mostly for the way his father managed to take his mind off Pup. It was close to nine o’clock before he headed toward town. Charlie Barnes’ house and shoe shop were on the way, but he felt compelled to bypass it for the moment. He picked up the mail and to his surprise found a telegram from Carlyle. From that point on the day did not go as he’d planned.
“You want what?”
“A gin or whiskey bottle. Either one will do,” Pup answered Charlie calmly, her eyes slightly preoccupied.
“I don’t drink.”
“What about a neighbor?”
“They’re not going to hand me their liquor without a lot of questions.”
“I don’t want the booze, Charlie, just the bottle. There’s got to be one lying around somewhere.”
He was catching on now and suddenly remembered he had what she needed. It was late Friday afternoon. Pup sat quietly at his kitchen table and watched while he dug into the back of a cupboard. She smiled broadly when he presented with flourish a clear bottle, label still intact.
“Will this do, Morton?” Charlie asked with a grin of his own.
“Perfectly. Boil some water, Charlie. It’s time to make tea so I can get to work.”
The last thing McKay expected to be doing on Friday night was searching Longmont bars for Jubal Hackett, but that’s what he was doing. The telegram from Carlyle had left little choice. He’d been called back to duty and without hesitation had responded. Guilt assailed him at the hard time he’d given Pup. She had obeyed her summons exactly as he had, but at the time he didn’t realize how closely their loyalty and commitment matched. He asked himself where she was and indeed wanted to look for her, but he pushed the distracting thoughts away and made himself move on to the next saloon.
Unlike some of the other bars in town, the Brass Cup had no stage, only a long bar and two dozen tables with chairs. As saloons go, it was one of the classier establishments, but the smoke and smell of strong ale was always hard to take. Added to this McKay didn’t drink, making it a challenge not to be noticed. McKay now moved along the edge of the room and chose a table away from the windows. He sat down, tilted his hat rather low over his brow, and slowly scanned the room.
23
From a corner table in the Brass Cup saloon, Morton Barnes watched McKay Harrington. It had taken a little work to get in the door and keep the bottle concealed, but the whiskey container filled with tea was now on the table. Pup was slumped over the wooden surface as if she’d drunk most of the bottle’s contents. She was a quiet drunk this evening, whereas last night, in order to get close to a rowdy group, she had been quite boisterous. It hadn’t done her any good: The group did not have the information she was looking for, so she was out again tonight. She had gotten one lead early in the evening and was now waiting patiently.
At the moment she pretended to be half-asleep in order to watch her coworker as well as the other occupants of the room. A swift glance around told her that no one was taking any notice of McKay, but the treasury agent’s eyes were covering plenty. It didn’t take her long to figure out that he’d gotten word from Denver. For just an instant she entertained thoughts that McKay might be looking for her, but someone came in the door, and her attention was instantly diverted. She glanced at McKay, but other than a swift perusal of the newcomer, he took little notice. However, Pup was more informed. This was exactly the man she was looking for. She shifted and sighed audibly as if trying to get more comfortable, but in actuality her movements were deliberate in order to see the man headed into a door at the back wall of the room.
Completely forgetting McKay or anyone else, she rose and acted as if she needed to be excused. A genuine drunk wandered by at that point, and she was forced to speak.
“You done with that?” his voice was slurred, but his eyes were fastened on the bottle.
“No,” Pup’s voice was ornery and low, her beard and mustache moving as her lips formed a snarl. Her eyes were so fierce that the other man moved off. Pup stood for a moment then, as if in drunken indecision. She stood for so long that six cowboys, whom she would have liked to thank, came noisily through the swing doors. Nearly all eyes were drawn to them and she grabbed the opportunity. A moment later she slipped inside the door her prey had used and found herself in a dark hallway.
For a time she froze. Not just to adjust her eyes, but also to listen. This was no easy task with the saloon on the other side of the portal. She was just about to take a step further into the darkness when the door opened halfway. Again she went completely still.
“It’s not up there,” an irate voice called from without. “The other door.”
Pup
had no idea what they were speaking about, but the partially open door cast just enough light to show her there was a stairway at the end of the hall. Determined not to waste any time, she waited for the door to close completely and quickly moved toward the steps. There was a dim light coming from under a door at the top, but it was enough illumination for Pup. Miraculously the noise from the bar cut off sounds of her movement as she started up the stairs. She was only three-quarters of the way up when she was able to hear every word.
“Why Longmont?” a curious voice asked.
“Because no one suspects,” the second voice replied in an amused tone. “Boulder is such a den of iniquity these days that we look like the first rose of spring.”
“And what about our new friend here?” the curious man questioned.
“I have an influential family member,” a third man responded in a voice that Pup recognized immediately.
The curious man must not have been satisfied, since he said sarcastically, “By family member, just how close do you mean?”
“My uncle,” the familiar voice stated. Pup thought he sounded uncertain.
“Your uncle?” Curious was clearly not convinced. “Who is this man?”
Silence fell. Pup strained to hear, but it took a moment. Finally the amused voice encouraged the third party.
“Go ahead, Mr. Whitter. You can tell Mr. Stuart—he’s one of our biggest investors.”
“Duncan Phipps.” The words were said a bit breathlessly, and Pup imagined that he’d pushed the words out. As it was she felt a little breathless herself. Had Nick known about their relationship?
“Why has it taken you so long to come forward?”
“I’ve never wanted to get involved before.” Mr. Whitter’s voice sounded instantly angry. “I used to be appreciated where I was, but no longer. If they’re not going to take care of me, I’ll go where someone will.”
“And the other gentleman?” Mr. Stuart inquired, and Pup realized for the first time that a fourth person was in the room.
