The Express Bride

by Kimberley Woodhouse

Mrs. Liverpool twittered in response. “It’s a good thing he was a man of such good taste.”

  The men’s conversation stalled and Elijah took that opportunity to watch the ladies without reservation. At ease in her surroundings, Jackie was like a breath of fresh air in contrast to the stuffy women he’d been acquainted with in the city. Mrs. Liverpool seemed to be like an older sister to the vibrant Miss Rivers. Their relationship appeared genuine and warm. It charmed him.

  Other than his relationship with Mr. Vines, Elijah hadn’t seen toomany friendships that were real like this one. In the city, people were always involved in business dealings and meetings, but they seemed to put on their best face and wanted to be seen with the right people for show. Maybe that was why his view of love and romance had been so tainted. Not to mention what he’d experienced growing up with his parents and their hideous social circles where no one really liked the others. They simply got together so the papers would report them in a list of society’s best attending an important gala.

  But over the past few months, Elijah had witnessed several couples either on the stage or at the way houses who seemed to be truly happy in their marriages. In love. Wanting to be in each other’s presence. He’d wondered if that was actually possible. But the way Mrs. Liverpool spoke of her husband suggested that they were very much in love and happy too. So maybe he was the one with the wrong viewpoint.

  Mr. Vines came back to mind. If only he could complete this job for Charles and still get to know these people—especially Jackie—better. But sadly, he was most likely going to have to leave soon. As soon as he heard from his boss.

  That thought made him frown.

  “Johnson?”

  Elijah blinked and looked back up at Crowell. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought there for a moment. What were you saying?”

  “I was asking if I heard correctly that you would be staying for a week or two.”

  “Ah, yes. I’d like to wait to hear back from my partner—Mr. Charles Vines. I’ve sent him a lot of messages from the road, but as I traveled, there was no way for him to respond.”

  Crowell nodded. “Good. I’m glad you will be around for a bit. It’s been a privilege to get to know you, and I’m hoping I can enlist your help.”

  “But of course. How can I be of aid?”

  Crowell moved his chair closer and lowered his voice. “It’s funny that you mentioned Charles Vines. I assume you mean the Charles Vines of Kansas City? Millionaire?”

  “Yes, sir, that is correct.”

  Crowell chuckled. “Good ol’ Charles. We were school chums back in the ‘20s.”

  “How about that! It’s a small world, sir.”

  “Yes, it is. We’ve corresponded since then, but mainly because he has had to do a great deal of business with my boss—the secretary of the treasury, Mr. Howell Cobb. Since we reconnected, it’s been a privilege to catch up with my old friend.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ve written letters to Mr. Cobb in the past on behalf of Mr. Vines. My boss speaks highly of him. I’d forgotten that he was the secretary of the treasury now.”

  Crowell nodded. “He’s a good man. And he’s trying to investigate some illegal practices that could do serious damage to the country’s economy. This is why I’m coming to you. When I heard you worked for Charles, I knew you could be trusted.”

  “I’m not sure what I can offer, but I’ll do my best. What is it that you need?”

  “We’ve traced the illegal activity to this part of the country, and that’s where I need your help. I’ve already been to Virginia City several times. People there know me and that I work for the Treasury. Frankly, I think they’re all getting tired of me asking questions. But when we were on the stage, you said you hadn’t spent any time there. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. That’s correct.”

  “Could you possibly go there and ask some questions for me?”

  “I’m sure I could. I need to ask some questions pertaining to my own business as well.”

  “I appreciate your willingness to help. I have the names of two men I will need you to meet, and I’ll prepare the questions I need answered. It won’t be difficult or tedious. I just need someone other than myself to be there. Of course, I’ll need your word that you will keep all of this to yourself. You must tell no one.”

  “Of course.” Elijah looked back to the table and saw a smile fill Jackie’s face. He turned back to Crowell. “When do you need me to go?”

  “In a few days? I need to make a trip to Carson City, and I’m hoping that when you and I return, we’ll have some good answers.”

  “Answers to what?” Mrs. Liverpool tilted her head and looked at the men.

  How she’d snuck up on them, Elijah had no idea, but both ladies had joined them in the parlor. The smirk on Jackie’s face was unmistakable.

  “Oh, just some questions that I have about the area.” Crowell looked back to Elijah. “I hear you’ve been to the lake?”

  “Yes. Michael, Jackie, and I went out there yesterday. It’s such unique terrain around here, I was shocked to see how lush and green it was around the water.”

  “Unique?” Mrs. Liverpool clucked her tongue. “Barren wasteland, if you ask me. Personally, I miss my mountains.”

  “Where are you from, Mrs. Liverpool?” Elijah was thankful they’d been able to turn the conversation away from Crowell’s private request.

  “Over by Lake Tahoe. It’s truly beautiful there.” She sat on the settee and brushed at her skirt. “I don’t know why Mr. Liverpool wanted to come out here, but he did, and I love that man and would follow him anywhere. So here we are.”

  Jackie reached out and patted the other woman’s arm. “Well, I’m glad you came.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  “And our discussions during Bible study wouldn’t be the same without you.” Jackie giggled. “Especially the ones about Daniel.”

  Mrs. Liverpool’s sour face turned into a smile that made the woman much more pleasant to look at. “Now, let’s not start in about that….” But the woman laughed along.

  “Oh, come now, Mrs. Liverpool, you can’t leave us hanging on such an interesting topic. Please tell us.” Mr. Crowell leaned forward and smiled.

  Jackie turned to the other woman. “Would you like to tell it, or should I?”

  Mrs. Liverpool straightened her shoulders and sighed. “Oh fine. Go ahead.” The amusement on the woman’s face contradicted the resigned tone of her voice.

  “Well, we were discussing chapter 4 of the book of Daniel. It had gotten quite lively, especially since we noticed that it appears that chapteris written by the king of Babylon himself and it tells such an amazing story of how he learned his lesson. June—Mrs. Liverpool here—had a lot of … questions about Nebuchadnezzar’s circumstances.” Jackie chuckled. “With all sincerity, she asked, ‘What do you suppose he wore as he was out there eating grass?’”

  The blacksmith’s wife’s laughter grew as her eyes crinkled, and she put a hand to her chest. “I asked if someone had to change the king’s clothes while he was living like an animal or if he was naked. These things plague me, you know, as I study the scriptures. Don’t they plague you? I want to know all the details and everything that isn’t described to us.” The woman’s eyes twinkled as she spoke.

  “That sent everyone into a fit of giggles and the discussion went all over the place after that. The boys started asking if they penned the king up at night, if he was on his hands and knees or his hands and feet. And whether or not he harmed anyone with his long claws. And what on earth did the people do without a king for seven years? Did they know he was out with the animals? Did they visit him? Pet him?” Jackie leaned over and patted her friend’s knee. “The discussion and questions went on for hours. It was one of the most memorable nights of my life. I think the good Lord above has given us curiosity for a reason. And a sense of humor.”

  After their laughter died down, Mrs. Liverpool stood, which caused Elijah and Mr. Crowell to stand
as well. With a sly grin, she admitted, “Well, I’m looking forward to Sunday Bible study even more now, but I’m afraid I must be going. Mr. Liverpool will be looking for me.” She curtsied and headed for the door. “Good evening.”

  “Good evening.”

  “Good evening.” All their voices joined together.

  Elijah watched Jackie. “I’m glad to hear that you have such lively Bible studies. It is one of my favorite things to do.”

  “Mine too.” Her eyes softened as she looked at him and smiled. “Dad and I used to sit by the fire every night and read and discuss scripture. I miss that.” She looked away for a moment and then turned back to him. “Sunday mornings were our time to study with everyone. It’s always beeninteresting. Mrs. Liverpool asks some of the most intriguing questions.”

  Mr. Crowell sat back down. “She’s an interesting woman. We haven’t met her husband yet. You must keep him terribly busy.”

  Elijah chuckled. “Oh, I can imagine he enjoys the reprieve.”

  “Elijah Johnson.” Jackie covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “She is a wonderful woman.” She paused. “Who likes to chat.” The laughter returned. “But she and Mr. Liverpool are so very happy together. It’s been a wonderful thing for me to see their example over the years. I love how God brings the right two people together at the right time. I admit, they’re total opposites. Liverpool is a quiet man, and yes, Mrs. Liverpool does enough talking for both of them. But they love each other and want to serve God together no matter where they are. What is better than that?”

  After Mrs. Liverpool left, Michael and the rest of the riders and hands excused themselves to go to bed.

  Jackie smiled at each one as they headed out, and her heart swelled with pride. They might be in the middle of nowhere, and their little stage stop and Express station might not even get a mark on the map, but this was home. She was so blessed to be surrounded by a wonderful group of people. Her family. Even with the ache still fresh from the loss of Dad, she could smile at the future, just like the woman portrayed in Proverbs chapter 31. How she longed to be like that woman. But she was so flawed and had such a long way to go.

  A hazy image abruptly ran through her mind—the image of a blond woman smiling down on her—and for a moment it took her breath away. Rarely did she remember anything about her mother, and when she did, she longed for more. But she’d been only three years old when her mother died. Dad said he didn’t like to talk about it because he still loved and mourned her. But oh, when she was younger, how incessantly she asked about her mother.

  Mr. Crowell stood, jolting her out of the memory. “I believe all this fresh air has worn me out. If you will excuse me, I shall retire for the night.” He bowed toward her, gave a nod to Elijah, and then headed down the guest hallway.

  The fire roared in the fireplace as Jackie collected her thoughts. She needed to do the job that Mr. Crowell had asked her to do to honor her father. If Marshall Rivers had been helping the secretary of the treasurybefore his death, then she wanted to help them finish the job. But how exactly would she go about it? Playing false was never something she was good at. But then, she did pretend she was a man in that letter, didn’t she? Besides, she wouldn’t necessarily play false. She just needed to do a little investigating—a little spying. She could do that, couldn’t she?

  As she looked down at her cup of tea, the image of her mother, so dreamlike and beautiful, still hovered at the edges of her mind. If only she could keep it there and remember more.

  “Miss Rivers … Jackie …” Elijah gazed at her from across the parlor. “I hope this doesn’t sound too impatient, but have you had a chance to look at any of your father’s ledgers?”

  His question made the picture in her mind vanish and brought her fully back to the present. “I’m so sorry, Elijah. I quite forgot.” As she stood, he came to his feet as well, a look of hope on his face. She smiled and pointed to her room. “Let me go fetch them. I’ll return momentarily.” She hurried off and wondered about the woman this man was so fascinated with. Or, she guessed, the woman must be a fascination of his employer’s. The woman and child must be of some great importance. Who were they? Could she ask?

  Grabbing the leather-bound books, she stopped for a moment as memories washed over her. Dad sitting at their table going over the ledgers at night. As he worked, his strong arms lifted her onto his lap, and she would fall asleep on his shoulder as his masculine script filled the pages. “Oh Dad.” A sob welled up in her throat. “I really miss you.”

  Sucking in a breath, she closed her eyes against the tears. Elijah was waiting for her, and she didn’t want him to think that she was weak and incapable of handling business. Why did men believe that tears meant weakness? Didn’t they grieve too? She’d seen several younger riders shed a tear or two when Marshall Rivers died.

  But she was in charge now. It didn’t matter that she was mourning her father. Mr. Johnson needed to see her as a strong and capable woman.

  With new determination, she left her room and brought the stack of books into the parlor.

  “Here they are.” She forced a smile she hoped showed she was happierthan she felt at the moment. The melancholy feeling just didn’t want to go away.

  “Thank you for helping me.” His smile was so genuine and sweet.

  “When did you say they would have come through?”

  “Late 1834 or possibly into 1835. Maybe even later?” He winced a bit as he said it. “My apologies. That might take a lot of sorting through. It wasn’t my intention to add to your workload.”

  “Nonsense. I told you I would help, and I am glad to do it.” And perhaps it would help get her mind off the overwhelming grief that threatened to overtake her. Maybe she needed this little project to focus on something other than her loss. Because the way she was feeling right now, if she started crying, she might not be able to stop. She picked up the oldest book and read the dates aloud. “This one starts in April 1832.” Flipping to the back of the book, she said, “And ends in November 1834. We should begin with this one, I think.” Seeing Dad’s handwriting cover the pages brought another wave of grief. She swallowed against it. “It’s a woman and child we’re looking for?”

  “Yes.”

  “If the child was under ten years old, Dad would simply write ‘child.’ If it was a baby, he would often write ‘infant.’ Older than ten, he would put the name of the child.” She handed the book over to Elijah.

  He raised his eyebrows at the proffered book. “You don’t mind me looking through this by myself?”

  Her emotions were in tumult. She did mind. Well, maybe she didn’t. But she couldn’t straighten out her emotions at the moment. “Go ahead. But please be respectful of my father and his clients’ privacy. I trust you’ll only be interested in the people you’re searching for.” Keeping her head down, she didn’t look at her guest for fear he would be able to read the sorrow on her face.

  “Of course, I’ll be discreet.” He took the book over to the table and sat down with a hurricane lamp.

  Hoping that he was occupied with the ledger, she flipped through the others one at a time. Not reading anything. Not doing anything other than covering up her struggle to hold herself together.

  When they’d buried her father, the minister’s wife from Virginia City had wrapped her in a hug and whispered in her ear that grief could be a difficult road to navigate and that it took time to heal. Why hadn’t the woman warned her that it would come back weeks after and haunt her worse than when he’d first died? How would she overcome the anguish?

  She picked up the last book, and as she leafed through the pages, a paper fell into her lap. Her name was there. In Dad’s bold script.

  Her heart picked up its pace, and she looked over at Elijah. He appeared deep in thought as he looked through the ledger, so she turned toward the fire, putting her back to him, and unfolded the paper.

  Dearest Daughter,

  As I’m sitting here balancing the ledgers, I couldn’t he
lp but think of you and be overwhelmed with joy and gratitude that you are my daughter. I hope I have many years left on this earth before there comes a need for you to read this, but I figured it was time I put things in order. There’s so much that I wish to tell you, but I will take the time to write it all out because I’m much too scared to do it in person.

  The thought of the strong Marshall Rivers being scared of something made her let out a breath of disbelief. He was never scared of anything. At least, not that she knew of. Was he teasing her? She dove into the rest of the letter.

  First, you need to know that I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you as a baby. You captured my heart fully the moment you wrapped your tiny fist around my finger, and it has been yours all these years since. Always remember that. No matter what you think or feel when you find out the truth.

  The truth? What could he be talking about? Dad was never cryptic. First afraid and now this? Did he hold some horrible secret she didn’t know about? She forced herself to swallow and read on.

  Second, your mother was a wonderful person. I wish you could have known her, but I see so much of her in you. Perhaps I will get up the courage to talk to you about her in detail one day. I feel negligent in not raising you to know more about her, but it was such a difficult situation and I loved her very much. I still do. You’ll understand more when I tell you the whole story.

  The last sentence made her pause. Her mother had died of the fever when she was little. Marshall had never been a man who beat around the bush. Never one for secrets. He believed in honesty and speaking the truth. So what was his hesitation? For many years she’d simply thought he’d loved her mother so much that it was incredibly difficult for him to talk about her. But now? She couldn’t really say. This was a different side of him she’d never seen.

  She looked over to Elijah, who was still absorbed in the ledger she’d given him. She returned to the letter.

  As you’ve gotten older, I’ve been thrilled to see her again—in you. And I realize that you are now the same age that she was when she died. How has the time gone by so fast?