“Why not just tell Mr. McGuire the truth?”
“What? The man’s a mountain, and he doesn’t appear to have much of a sense of humor. I might fare better with a bear. No, I simply can’t throw myself on his mercy when I’m not sure he has any. It’s really a cryin’ shame because I did so want to get married and have a family of my own. Angus seems like the kind of man who would protect his woman with his life and I wouldn’t have to be afraid of anyone. Now I’m afraid of him,” she finished sadly.
““What about telling him he has to marry you before you go up the mountain? That way by the time he finds out you lied, it will be too late to get rid of you,” Martha suggested.
Molly laughed.
“Martha, I’m surprised you would even suggest something so underhanded, but I couldn’t do it anyway. He deserves to get what he paid for and that’s not me. No, it’s best if I just disappear. Maybe then he’ll up and marry one of the other girls.” Molly wiped a tear away from her cheek and stiffened her spine.
‘Maybe none of them can cook either,” Martha offered.
“Most any woman can cook,” Molly snorted.
“Yes, but not everyone can provide meals for forty men, three times a day.”
“That’s true, but at least Angus will know it before he weds. With me, it would always be between us, knowing I tricked him into sending for me and marrying me.”
“All right, I won’t argue with you about this anymore today,” Martha sighed unbuttoning the cuffs of her shirtwaist and pushing up her sleeves. “And I won’t tell anyone either, but only if you wait until after the ball Mrs. Jordon is planning.” Reaching into the ice box she pulled out a ham. “Maybe you will catch someone else’s eyes who won’t care if you can cook or not. See if you can find any cabbage and a few potatoes. I’m sure we can come up with something for supper between the two of us.”
“I’ll wait as long as I can,” Molly promised, “but no matter what happens, I’m glad you’re my friend, Martha,” Molly said with a watery smile.
“Molly, can you sew?” Martha asked on a hopeful note. If she was forced to open a new shop to support herself, maybe Molly could work for her.
“About as well as I can cook,” was the muffled answer as Molly stuck the upper half of her body in a huge wooden bin and began to gather potatoes.
“Oh, that’s too bad.”
*
By the time their train neared the station in Omaha, both Effie and Grace were convinced Jonah Blackthorn had more than a passing interest in Grace. Each time they left their compartment he magically appeared full of compliments as well as questions. No matter when they went to the dining car, and they tried multiple unusual times, there he was.
At first Grace was flattered, but as the train took them further west, she began to see his questions about their background and destination as much more than curiosity. Despite his good looks and charming manner, he’d become a prying annoyance and she’d told so many stories she feared she’d never be able to keep them straight.
“You were right all along, Effie,” Grace whispered, nodding as Jonah approached their table and pulled out a chair.
“Well ladies, we should be in Omaha in a couple of hours. I take it you’ll want to go directly to the fort to see your father, Miss Brown,” he remarked, pouring coffee from the pot the porter brought to the table.
“Yes, I imagine so,” Grace replied, watching Effie for guidance.
“Good. I hope you’ll allow me to escort you. I’d very much like to meet your father and I have business there.”
Effie gave a tiny nod and Grace replied.
“It’s very kind of you to offer, Mr. Blackthorn.”
“Please, Miss Brown. I thought we were beyond the formalities. Don’t you remember you agreed to call me, Jonah?” he asked, smiling as he gently teased her.
“Of course, Jonah,” she murmured.
“That’s much better. Miss Crumb, will you be traveling to Fort Omaha also?”
Effie narrowed her eyes before forcing herself to relax.
“Oh my yes, I wouldn’t dream of abandoning my dear friend at this stage of the journey. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have some packing to do.” Laying down her napkin, Effie rose from her seat.
“Certainly,” Jonah replied as he stood. “I don’t want you two ladies to worry about a thing. I’ll arrange for a carriage and meet you inside the station where you can wait out of the hot sun.”
“Thank you.”
“What are we going to do?” Grace hissed as they made their way back to their compartment. “I think you were right all along, he’s a Pinkerton,” she continued sadly.
“Whether he is or he isn’t, he’s showing entirely too much interest in our plans for my peace of mind,” Effie said as they closed the door behind them. “For all the talking he’s done in the last few days, he’s told us very little about himself. I don’t trust a man who looks as good as he does and is a smooth talker besides. We need to get rid of him.”
“What do you mean ‘get rid of him’?” Grace gasped, grabbing Effie’s arm.
“Relax, I’m not going to shoot him, just arrange for a little delay,” Effie said with a laugh. “For heaven’s sake, Grace. Oh Porter, how far is the fort from the station?” she asked, opening the door and stopping the man who had taken care of their needs since leaving Chicago.
“Not far ma’am. I say less than ten miles, probably more like eight.”
“I see, and how long is the wait before this train leaves to continue west?”
“We are in the station for about ninety minutes. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No… wait, I believe there is. I want you to make sure our baggage does not leave this train under any circumstances,” she continued, turning to reach into her reticule. Pressing money into the man’s hand she closed his fist around it. “Do you understand? We will be leaving the train for a short period of time, but we will return in time to board. I would appreciate it very much if you don’t mention this conversation to anyone, and if anyone try’s to remove our things, tell them someone from the fort will be along to take care of it.”
“I understand, ma’am.”
“Thank you, I’m counting on your discretion.”
Closing the door, Effie sat and tapped her finger against her chin. “Hmm, that doesn’t give me much time.”
“Please don’t tell me what you’re planning, Effie,” Grace said with a shiver. “I have a feeling I won’t like it.”
“You probably won’t, but it’s the only way we can be sure Jonah Blackthorn is not on this train when it leaves.”
“You’re not going to injure him are you?” Grace asked, fearfully.
“Not unless I have too.”
“Oh dear, I think I may be ill.” Fanning her face, Grace fell back against the seat.
“Oh buck up, Gracie, things are just starting to get interesting,” Effie said with a grin.
Approximately two and a half hours later, Jonah lifted Lacy onto the seat of the only carriage still available for hire when he got to the livery. Miss Crumb happily agreed to sit in back, giving Jonah the pleasure of having Lacy all to himself. If there was a nervous warning traveling down his spine, he chose to ignore it and instead concentrated on enjoying the undivided attention of a young woman he found captivating.
It wasn’t until they were a few miles out of town, near a stand of cottonwood trees that he realized his mistake. The gun pressed between his shoulder blades made it abundantly clear he’d been hoodwinked.
Chapter Seven
“Kindly remove your gun belt, Mr. Blackthorn and hand it to me carefully,” Miss Crumb instructed.
“I don’t understand,” Jonah replied, reaching to unbuckle his belt.
“No, I don’t imagine you do, but unless you follow my instructions to the letter, things will be come much clearer.”
Jonah handed the belt behind him and heard her drop it to the floor of the wagon. Under normal circu
mstances he would have taken the lady on in a very uncivilized manner, but the look on Lacy’s face stopped him. She was scared to death.
“Miss Crumb,” he said sternly. “I strongly suggest you stop this foolishness immediately before someone gets hurt. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“Oh, I think I do, Mr. Blackthorn and I’m sure I’ll know much more in a moment or two. Now get down from the wagon and remove your clothing. And don’t pull any heroic moves if you please. I’d really hate to shoot you.”
Jonah jumped off the seat, intending to roll under the wagon and catch Miss Crumb off guard until he could get his other gun out of his boot.
“I mean it,” Effie said, keeping her pistol trained on his chest. “My friend here seems to have taken a liking to you and it would cause me great pain to kill you, but I will if need be. Now why are you following us?”
“Following you?” he demanded. “I’m not following you, I just happened to be going in the same direction.”
“Stop lying and get those clothes off,” Effie snapped, cocking the gun. “Who do you work for, Mr. Blackthorn? Toss those breeches up to Lacy and the boots too.”
Furious, Jonah toed off his boots, his last hope of coming out of this on top crushed as the small gun fell out and hit the ground.
“Kick it away, Mr. Blackthorn and make it good.”
Following her instruction, he glanced at Lacy, noting the pasty white skin and shocked eyes.
“I believe you’re upsetting your good friend,” he drawled as he unbuttoned his coat and shirt and tossed them into the wagon.
“She’ll survive; Lacy look through his pockets for some identification. I’m sorry but we don’t have much time so hurry along with those pants. I want your socks too. If you cooperate, I may let you keep your underthings,” she offered with a smile. “Is there anything important in his pockets, Lacy?”
“Just some money and his Pinkerton identification,” Lacy sighed, rummaging through his clothing. “There’s also a photograph of some red haired girl and a reward posting for five thousand dollars for her safe return,” she whispered.
“Just so you know, Ladies, I’ve been aware of who you were from the moment I stepped on the train. Grace, I could have taken you into custody at any time, but I was trying to do the right thing and allow you to have an uneventful journey.”
“And what were you going to do with me once we reached San Francisco?” Grace demanded, standing and leaning toward him.
“Why turn you over to the authorities, and collect my reward of course,” Jonah shot back, struggling not to be moved by the stricken look on her face.
Grace gasped.
“Shoot him, Effie! He’s a scoundrel of the worst sort, acting like he was interested in me when all he was after was the money. He didn’t concern himself one whit about why I ran away or the horrible things Horace tried to do to me. Shoot him.”
“I wish I could Gracie, I really do, but the most I can do is wound him. Would that make you happy?” Effie asked, sympathetically.
Grace appeared to think this over, while Jonah wanted to kick his own ass. Not only had he screwed this entire case up by getting personally involved, he’d hurt a young woman who’d obviously already suffered at the hands of a man.
“Give me your side of the story, Grace. Tell me what happened to make you run away and maybe I can help you,” he pleaded.
“No, I could never trust you now,” she said sadly. “I’ll bet your mother’s name isn’t Grace either!”
“It most certainly is.”
“Is she dead? Did she pass away waiting for her long lost son to return to her side?” Grace asked with a sneer.
“No, she’s very much alive and living in Baltimore,” he admitted, fighting to keep the sheepish expression from his face. These two miscreants already had the upper hand. He’d be damned if he’d give them any more satisfaction.
Grace gasped.
“Toss your pants up here.”
Jonah complied. There was nothing else he could do at the moment.
“Start walking,” Effie ordered, motioning with her pistol.
Head down he trudged away toward the fort, yelping each time his foot connected with a sharp stone. When he was a substantial distance away, he looked over his shoulder and watched Effie lift her skirts and climb over the seat, turn the rig around and crack the reins. Soon they were hell bent for election headed back to the station.
*
“Toss his clothes out along the side of the road,” Effie instructed just before they reached the outskirts of town. “We don’t need any suspicious questions when the carriage goes back to the livery.”
Grace tossed an item every few feet until all that was left was his coat which she brought to her nose taking a big sniff of his cologne before she sent it sailing.
“Are you all right?” Effie asked gently.
“Yes, I just wish we’d taken his underwear too.”
“Whatever for?” Effie asked, shocked.
“Then I would know if he has a hairy ass.”
Effie was still laughing when they pulled up to the station. Climbing down, she tossed a coin to a boy and asked him to take the rig back to the livery. By the time they were back in their compartment and the train was pulling out of the station, she figured Jonah was beginning to locate his clothes.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” Grace sighed, stripping off her wig and shaking out her red hair. I’m almost sick of being a brunette. At least we got rid of him.”
“Oh we’re not rid of him, not by a long shot. Believe me, Grace he’ll be hot on our trail in no time. It’s strange, but I have a feeling he would have let you go if he knew the whole story and were it not for that reward. Imagine that weasel Horace putting a five thousand dollar price on your head, as though you were a criminal,” she said indignantly. “I’ll bet by now Mr. Blackthorn isn’t the only one hunting us. I’m sorry, but I think you’re going to have to keep that wig.”
Grace was thoughtful for a long while before she spoke.
“I’m sorry I got you into all this, Effie,” she said sadly. “Maybe when we get to San Francisco, I should just turn myself over to the authorities and you should go on to Seattle. Amelia needs you and I’m only going to slow you down if we have to watch our every move and sneak around.”
“Are you kidding, I’m having the time of my life,” Effie replied with a laugh. “I wanted adventure and we are certainly having that. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to outwit a pompous male who thinks he has a superior mind. I’ll bet Mr. Blackthorn is cursing the day he ever accepted this assignment.” Taking off her own mousy brown wig, she ran her fingers through her blonde curls.
“But what about when we get to San Francisco? There may be others watching and waiting for us. How are we ever going to get around the city without being discovered?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Effie said opening her reticule and pulling out a wad of money. “Do to the kindness of Mr. Blackthorn, we now have some extra money to fund our travels. I think a trip to the theater is in order as soon as we arrive.”
“The theater?”
“Yes, I have a plan. Here,” she said, tossing Grace Jonah’s identification. “Would you like to keep this to remember him by?”
Grace caught the packet and stared at it before dropping it into her bag.
“I’ll keep it, but only to remind me a handsome face and attentive manner does not make a man a gentleman. I doubt I’ll have any trouble remembering Mr. Blackthorn,” she finished with a sigh.
“Oh dear, you haven’t fallen in love with him or anything like that, have you?” Effie asked fretfully.
“No,” Grace insisted. “In fact, if I ever see him again I may shoot him myself,” she continued, turning away to wipe a tear.
*
Jonah stumbled along, cussing each time his foot came in contact with a sharp stone. Walking on the side of the road was no better as there was plenty of br
ush to stab thorns into his tender soles. His driving motivation at this point was to get his hands on Miss Crumb or Miss Lane, or whatever the hell her real name was.
Never in his career had he been outsmarted by a woman. The fact that the two culprits were not even out of their teens was a bitter blow. Grace Wentworth he could overlook to a certain extent. She was lovely and sweet and it was no wonder he became blinded by her stunning figure and unassuming way. No, it was the little brat who got the drop on him that infuriated him. Someone better damn well put a stop to her shenanigans before she got herself hurt.
Even in his anger, he had to admit it was admirable, the way she defended her friend, but that was no excuse for her behavior. He could just have easily been a lying, low-life criminal of the roughest sort, who would have knocked her ass over teakettle out of the wagon in a heartbeat. Had she been a man, she would have gotten a stiff elbow in her belly that sent her flying. It was only that he didn’t really want to hurt her, or have a stray shot from her gun accidentally hit Grace that stopped him from turning the tables on her. A different type of man might have taken both their money and their virtue. Somebody needed to give that girl a spanking the likes of which she’d never seen. In his opinion, it would straighten her out and right quick too.
His anger faded slightly with each piece of discarded clothing he discovered along the way. By the time he reached town, he was fully dressed but for one missing sock and a painful blister was beginning to rise on his left heel. Stomping to the telegraph office, he talked the clerk into wiring the agency for assistance and proceeded to cool his heels for the next two hours awaiting a reply. Finally it came, and he was off to the bank to secure funds before returning to the depot to purchase another ticket to San Francisco departing the next day.
It wasn’t until he was resting on his bed after eating an enormous steak dinner that he began to wonder what had driven Gracie to flee from her obviously wealthy fiancé. She didn’t appear to be a non-compliant sort of young woman. In fact, she was extremely congenial as far as he could tell. Soft-spoken with impeccable manners, she was even adorable while she was lying through her teeth. Each time he’d maneuvered her into expanding on her story; her face would pale, making the smattering of freckles across her nose stand out. It was fascinating to watch and he found himself forcing her into such a position over and over again. Twice she’d come to the dining room without remembering to darken her eyebrows, a sure sign she wasn’t used to deception. Now he had to wonder what would make a girl like Grace run away. What was so elementally wrong with Horace Remington that she would put herself at great risk to escape him? When he caught up to them, and he would, that was the first thing he was planning to find out. Finally he let his body relax. They only had about a twenty-four hour jump on him. How much trouble could they get into in that short amount of time, he wondered as he dosed off.
Grace (The Marriage Market Book 2) Page 6
