A pang filled her chest. Now she understood a bit better why Dad had reacted the way he had on her birthday. She’d turned twenty-six this year. Her mother had died at twenty-six.
Third, if anything happens to me, you know where most of the important documents are. But I’ve held back one box for you. With help for your future and keys to your past. To find it, you’ll have to remember, “A thousand times the worse to want thy light.” He who speaks shelters the treasure that I hope to share with you one day—prayerfully in my old, old age. But until then, I’ll keep it hidden. Just in case. It’s my back-up plan in case I do not garner the courage to tell you in person.
What? The quote made absolutely no sense to her. What was Dad up to? And why was he suddenly interested in keeping some sort of box hidden? His words were so different from anything else she’d ever seen from her father. Maybe he’d become a bit sentimental as he’d grown older.
Perhaps I’ll be brave and tell you in person one day, but I kind of enjoy the thought of sending you on a treasure hunt. You always loved adventures and beautiful things. I wish I could have given you more.
Oh Dad. He’d given her more than she ever could have wanted. Her heart clenched.
I always wanted to be a better father. If you’re reading this, hopefully I’ve achieved that before I leave this world.
Follow God’s Word. Live with joy and happiness. Don’t grieve for me, for if I’m dead, it simply means I’m with my heavenly Father. And your mother. Which is glorious to even think about.
Don’t forget that I love you and that you’ll always be my little girl.
All my love,
M.R.
Jackie read the note again, then refolded it and tucked it into her pocket. A smile spread across her face as she recalled his strong script. How she missed him. Opening the ledger back up, she went to the pages where Dad had tucked the letter. Sure enough, his check marks showed where he’d caught up balancing the books. She’d put off the job since his death, dreading the effort it took. But between the pages and in the middle of his work, he’d taken time to write her a note. She ran her hand down the page and wished she’d found the message earlier.
The thought of big, strong Marshall Rivers sitting down with pen and ink to tell her he was afraid of telling her the truth puzzled her.Whatever the truth was didn’t matter. He’d been a wonderful father, and she’d adored him. That he wanted to send her on a hunt for something he’d left for her was wonderful and gave her heart a lift.
But the more she pondered his clue, the more confused she became. Dad had been a simple man. For him to go to such lengths was out of character. Then again, he’d done a lot of things out of character for his little girl. The thought made her love him all the more.
Turning back toward Elijah, she realized she hadn’t been looking in the ledgers to help him. So she laid down the most recent book and picked up the ledger that continued from November 1834. As she glanced through the first two pages of entries, she noticed that “HM and infant” were listed in the same guest room for several days.
“Elijah, I think I’ve found something.”
He lifted his head and looked at her. “Is it a woman and child?”
“I believe so, but it’s just the initials ‘HM’ and ‘infant.’ Apparently they started off this ledger staying in room 3. Could you check the end of yours?” She brought the book over to the table where he’d been studying the ledger.
It appeared that he’d made it through the first third of the book. Marking his place, he then went to the back of the ledger. “You’re correct. Room 3 has ‘HM and infant’ listed.”
“Let’s trace it back to the first stay—perhaps he wrote the full name on the first night.” Excited that they’d found a clue so quickly, she couldn’t wait for him to turn the page back.
But as he placed his finger at the top of the previous page and slid it down, she saw the same thing listed at the top with ditto marks written beneath.
Elijah turned back another page, then another. After he turned back the fourth page, his finger stopped. “Look!” His voice was animated.
Jackie leaned in. “On the eighteenth of October 1834, a woman named Hanna Morris signed in with her infant.” The words in front of her made her pause. Hannah was her mother’s name. But it was spelled differently. How strange. Hannah was a common enough name.
“That’s got to be her.” Elijah’s words ended on a sigh.
“How can you be so sure?” She hated to squash his excitement, but it couldn’t be that easy, could it?
He leaned back into his chair. “Her name was Anna. I know that much. Could your father have misunderstood her name and written Hanna instead?”
“No. Dad was pretty accurate. Why do you think it’s the same person?” She pointed to the page. “It’s clearly written as Hanna here.”
“Because the time period fits.” His brow lowered and he came forward again. “Let’s check your book. How long does she stay?”
Caught up in the fun of the mystery, Jackie placed her ledger on the table. Flipping through the pages, she discovered that the same guest room was occupied with only ditto marks through the entire ledger! “So our mystery woman stayed here for”—she checked the back of the ledger—“two years?”
They exchanged glances and both went to grab the other ledgers.
Elijah opened the next one and flipped through it quickly. “There’s not even a listing for room 3 in this one.”
Jackie was discovering the same thing in the first few pages of the ledger that followed. “It’s not in this one either.”
Elijah held up his book for her to examine. “But he obviously had a busier stage stop, because this one fills up after nine months. See?”
She looked at the dates as he pointed to the beginning and end of the ledger. It was true, their stage stop must have been a busier route starting that year. Jackie went back to the one she held. She continued to flip through the pages. Room 3 wasn’t listed on the first ten pages. But then, on page eleven, it appeared again. She gasped. “Look!”
He leaned over her shoulder. “September 1837. All of a sudden room 3 is available again.” Elijah backed away and Jackie studied his face. What was he thinking?
As he sat down in his chair, he looked from book to book. “Almost three years …” His words were mumbled.
“What? What are you thinking?” Now she was completely intrigued. Who was this woman, and why were Elijah and his boss so interested in her? Better yet, why had she stayed here, of all places, for close to threeyears? Hanna or Anna? It didn’t make sense.
“It couldn’t be….” His gaze shot to hers. He didn’t say anything else. Just studied her. A look of marvel on his face.
As she stared back at Mr. Elijah Johnson, she started to feel uncomfortable. What was he up to?
His scrutiny had made her uncomfortable. He could see unease etched clearly on her face. “My apologies, Jackie. I was thinking it all through.” Shaking his head, he tore his eyes from her, smiled, closed the ledger, and patted it. “Thank you so much for taking the time to help me, but I believe we found what I was looking for.”
She gave him an odd look. Like she didn’t quite believe him. “Of course. It’s been my pleasure to help.” She gathered the books toward her. “Will there be anything else you might need?”
He breathed deeply. “No. I don’t think so. But I might like to look at those again, if you don’t mind.” He backed away from the table. He couldn’t allow her to know what he was thinking.
A frown furrowed her brow at his retreat. “I won’t mind. Just let me know when.” Her voice sounded hurt as she hefted the stack of books into her arms. She looked young, innocent, and like a girl carrying her books to the schoolhouse with her thick blond braid curling over her right shoulder.
“I appreciate it. Now, if you don’t mind, I believe I will head to my room.” He gave her an awkward bow. “Thank you. Good night.” He couldn’t bear to look at the puzzled loo
k on her face anymore, and while he hated to distance himself, he had to think. He took quick steps toward the guest hallway and followed it down to his room.
Once he closed the door, he leaned against it with a sigh. But he couldn’t stand still. So he paced the length of his bed and back.
One question haunted every step and thought.
Could Jackie be Charles’s daughter?
The thought was almost too much to absorb. He’d dismissed it easily enough when he first arrived, but now?
The woman who came here with an infant could very well be Anna Vines. Even though her name was written in the ledger as Hanna Morris. A few other thoughts raced through his mind, so he went to his case and looked through his notes. Anna Vines’s maiden name was Morrison. Could she have shortened it so it would be easy for her to remember yet still familiar? But could it be that simple? She’d gone to great lengths to cover up her identity as she fled. Why would she give a name so similar to her own? So she would recognize it if someone called out her name?
If only he could talk to Anna or Hanna herself. If only she were still alive, the mystery could be solved.
He shook his head and continued pacing. How long had it taken her to reach this place? The stage lines back then were nothing like they were today. And she hadn’t stayed on a coach. She’d purchased supplies and a wagon. If his assumptions were correct, she would have arrived at Carson Sink seven months after she’d left Kansas City. It was not an easy location to get to—especially back in 1834 with a wagon full of supplies and a baby—and it was truly out in the wilderness, away from society. Probably exactly why she chose to stay here. Hanna Morris had to be Anna Vines.
It was the only logical explanation. Jackie was blond with green eyes. Just like Anna. And the woman—Hanna or Anna—had stayed here. At Marshall Rivers’s stage stop. For three years. That would line up with about when Charles suspected she’d come down with the fever. All they had to go on was the letter he received that said his wife had died and the postal markings that traced it back to the Utah Territory. Elijah wished he could look at that letter. Maybe there was some other clue. They didn’t have exact dates to go on, but this couldn’t all be coincidental, could it?
Even though his instincts were telling him there was a very real possibility that Jacqueline Rivers was Charles Vines’s long-lost daughter, two obstacles stood in the way.
One—he didn’t have any proof.
Two—Marshall Rivers.
A man who sounded like the epitome of a wonderful husband and father. Jackie respected him—and mourned him—a great deal. How could Elijah possibly tell her that the man she loved—the man who had raised her—wasn’t her real father?
He couldn’t.
At least not yet. Not until he had proof. It would take time. But what if Mr. Vines didn’t have much time left? Could he break the old man’s heart by not following his instincts and finding out the truth as quickly as possible?
Jackie’s face floated to his mind. He’d only known her a few days, but he already held her in high esteem. He didn’t want to hurt her either. And pushing on such a delicate matter might drive her away completely. She’d said her mother’s name was Hannah. Did Anna change her name to Hannah? They sounded very similar. Was that why it was in the ledger that way? A last-minute decision as she was signing in? Just another piece of the puzzle.
As he sat on his bed, he shook his head and looked at the ceiling. Lord, what am I to do?
Allowing himself to admit the truth only added to his consternation: for the first time in a long time, he found a woman intriguing and quite appealing. He’d wanted to spend time with her and get to know her.
But if his gut was correct, he would have to shove his personal feelings aside. He couldn’t exactly tell Jackie the truth about his feelings when he was trying to find his boss’s heiress. If Jackie did indeed turn out to be Vines’s daughter, she might think the only reason he came was because he was after her money.
And who was to say that Jacqueline Rivers wouldn’t end up being exactly like Martha or even Laura? They’d both trampled all over him when the truth came out. It was the reason he had decided to pour himself into his work all those years ago—just like Mr. Vines.
But then, that was the reason he’d missed out on so much of life, wasn’t it? It was the reason he hadn’t settled down. Hadn’t searched for love. He had been hurt in ways he hadn’t even thought possible. Couldn’t Jackie be different though?
His mind volleyed back and forth with each argument until his head hurt.
Elijah sat on the bed and put his head in his hands.
Maybe getting to know her better wasn’t such a bad idea. He had to wait here for any word from his boss. He wouldn’t cause any harm by using the time to find out about her character. Not just for himself—but for Charles’s sake. And she might be able to help him discover other clues about the mysterious Hanna Morris who stayed here for so long.
Pushing his thoughts aside, Elijah knew he needed to let Charles know about his progress. If the man didn’t have a lot of time left, perhaps the hope that Elijah was getting close to discovering the truth would encourage him to keep gaining strength. Sitting at the desk in his room, he put pen to paper and wrote a quick note to his partner.
A knock sounded at his door. That was odd. It was getting late. He went to the door and opened it a crack.
Mr. Crowell stood there in his nightclothes and robe. “My apologies, Elijah. But I forgot to give you this.” He held out a piece of paper. “It’s the names of the contacts I need you to meet with.”
Elijah had completely forgotten about the job he had promised to do. “Oh, yes. Of course. When do you need me to go?”
“I received a note today on the Express. In five days’ time, you’ll need to meet with them. Will that work with your schedule?”
Nodding, he opened the paper and glanced at the names and locations. “That will be fine. So on the twenty-first I need to be there?”
“Actually, it is the twenty-second. My apologies. I leave for Carson City tomorrow and will hopefully return in a fortnight or less. I understand that is a long time, but things have come up that I must handle personally. If you need to leave before I return, would you please leave a sealed missive for me?” Crowell held out a hand.
Elijah shook the man’s proffered hand. “I’ll do as you ask. Perhaps I’ll still be here as well.”
Crowell smiled at him. “Good. Well, I should return to bed. Thank you, Mr. Johnson, for your assistance.”
As he closed the door again, Elijah narrowed his eyes and ponderedall that was going on. Too many mysteries intersected at this Express station in Carson Sink, Utah Territory. He’d already thought there were too many coincidences between Jackie and Mr. Vines’s wife and missing daughter. This couldn’t be another coincidence, could it? Or were they all connected somehow?
Virginia City
October 17, 1860
Carl fired off a clean shot into the man’s chest. As he holstered his Colt, he walked over to the man, whose shocked gaze was beginning to glaze over, and spoke to his still form. “Sorry about that, Mr. Williamson, but we don’t need you telling anyone the truth, now, do we?”
The man’s breath left him in a hiss and gurgle of blood. Then his eyes stared at nothing.
As he crouched over the lifeless body, Carl reached into the man’s waistcoat pocket and removed the papers. Perusing them, he found that the Treasury Department had learned more than he thought. They knew the treasury notes were being forged in this area. But at least the documents didn’t say anything about who was supplying the forgeries. “So they think they have it all figured out. Well, we’ll just have to make sure we send them in a different direction.” He stood up, brushed off his pants, and straightened his jacket.
A chuckle sounded from behind him. “Yeah. Your plan is really smart. Blame all the forgin’ and killin’ on a dead man while we head to Mexico.”
Carl looked over his shoulder at
his nephew. The goofy grin on his face needed to be wiped off with a good, hard slap. “I don’t want to hear you say anything about my plan out loud ever again. Especially not another word about Rivers. This won’t work if you can’t keep your trap shut. Do you hear me?”
The grin gone, the young man straightened his shoulders. “I hear ya.”
With a flick of his wrist, Carl threw the papers into the fireplace where a roaring fire licked at the pages until they were completely engulfed. He stared at the flames. “Good.”
“Want me to burn it down?”
The kid’s eagerness for destruction needed to be tamed. “No. That would bring unwanted attention. Besides, we need it. He’s a contact, remember? Which means that someone will be coming to meet him at some point.”
“Yeah.” His nephew nodded. “Do you wanna have me pretend I’m Mr. Williamson?”
Carl shook his head and laughed. “You? You couldn’t clean yourself up enough to play the part. Besides, you talk like you never made it past the first grade. No, this calls for someone who is a bit more … cultured.”
“You and your stupid clothes and fancy speech. Ya know I made it to second.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the gleam in his eyes a look of pure evil. “Who needs schoolin’ anyway? It don’t help me make money like stealin’ and killin’ does.” The younger man dared to step closer and puff out his chest. He was a big guy. Strong and scary. Exactly why Carl needed him.
Carl ignored his comments and stared at the fire. No. Schooling never helped him with his chosen line of work. But it did help him pass himself off as a gentleman. Something that the authorities seemed to miss every time. Seemed they always expected the serious criminals, thieves, and murderers to look the part. Filthy, disgusting, and uneducated. Just like his nephew here. Who stank to high heaven and hadn’t washed his clothes probably … ever.
The thought made him chuckle.
After this job was over, he’d be set for life. As long as he could keep this kid from doing anything stupid. Then he’d just get rid of him too.
The Express Bride Page 10
