by Megan Besing
“A hunch, mostly,” Mr. Pinkerton said. “Where a key figure in the family is missing, I tend to wonder why. Just like when a man has millions at his disposal and he neither acknowledges it nor tells the woman he loves, I have to wonder why.”
“I thought I would get to that eventually, but the subject never came up. For some strange reason, my sister has cooperated.” Jeremiah frowned. “I will tell her, but not until I know she would marry me even though I am a destitute Pinkerton detective.”
Mr. Pinkerton’s brows rose. “Have a care, Bingham. I pay my detectives well.” Jeremiah laughed. “Which is why I will not worry if you fire me. We’ll live off May’s paycheck.” He stopped to consider his words carefully. “She will be able to continue as a detective after our marriage, won’t she? If she wants to, that is.”
“In my experience, marriage neither decreases a woman’s ability to reason nor to act as a detective for my organization. Miss Conrad may remain in my employ so long as she wishes, even after she becomes Mrs. Bingham.”
“Thank you, sir.” The mantel clock chimed. “Wish me luck.”
“No luck needed,” he said as he went back to his paper. “God bless the both of you.”
After two weeks of nothing but conversation and walks on the Galveston beach with her father, May was stunned to see Jeremiah at her doorstep this evening. Even more stunned when Papa welcomed him in like an old friend.
Ever since she agreed to an assignment with the Pinkerton Agency, Papa had been wary of the handsome Texan. He’d warned her there was more to Jeremiah Bingham than she knew about. Of course, he was right, although what she learned through her detective skills made no difference in how she felt about the man standing before her.
Because somehow, despite her best efforts to the contrary, she had fallen madly, crazy in love with the fellow who had taught her to reason out puzzles, interview suspects, and shoot better than he could.
So in that regard, Papa had every right to be concerned.
“Let’s walk,” Jeremiah said as he led her down toward the beach where the sun was setting, leaving faint smudges of orange and purple on the horizon.
With the sand beneath them and a carpet of stars thrown across the sky above, Jeremiah took her into his arms. He smelled of soap and sunshine, distinctly him. “Moonlight suits you, May,” he said against her ear.
“Seems I’ve heard that before.” She snuggled against his broad shoulder. “Would you just kiss me now?”
Jeremiah leaned back and grinned. “Since our first case, I have admired how plainspoken you are. But not yet. I have something to discuss with you.”
“And until now I admired how you appeared to prefer to use few words.” May offered a disappointed look. “Why are you still talking?”
“Because we’ve got another case, an important one.”
“So that’s why you’ve interrupted my visit with Papa.” She stifled a groan. And this had been going so well. “What kind of assignment does Mr. Pinkerton bring this time?”
“More of a blessing, actually,” he said. “But I should begin at the beginning. I’ve withheld some things from you, May, and I should admit to them.”
“You should,” she said, “especially the parts about me not really being a Pinkerton detective at first. An expense account? Really, Jeremiah, I am still waiting to be reimbursed and so are the dressmakers in New Orleans.”
“They are not,” he said with mock horror. “They were paid the next day.”
“No doubt with funds from Bingham Mining,” she said with a grin.
He shook his head. “When did you find me out?”
“Well, after I fell in love with you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said. “And the fact you live on a detective’s salary might horrify your sister, but I personally think it’s merely interesting.”
“Merely interesting?” He shook his head. “I don’t follow.”
“No, you wouldn’t. A man who pays his own way in the world? I find that quite…” She paused, searching for the word.
Jeremiah stepped out of her embrace and knelt before her on the sand. “Worthy of marriage, which I have on good authority will not disqualify you from your continued employment by the Pinkerton Agency?”
“You spoke to Mr. Pinkerton about this?”
He shrugged. “Him and your father. Both offered us their blessings.”
“Oh Jeremiah, stand up and kiss me,” she exclaimed.
“Not until you answer the question.”
“Then I shall come to you.” She laughed and tumbled beside him onto the sand, taking Jeremiah with her. “Of course I will marry you, Detective Bingham. Now please shut up and kiss me.”
And he did.
Bent Facts: An Author’s Note
I hope you have enjoyed your historical trip through one of my favorite cities in the world, New Orleans, Louisiana. Because I am a historian at heart, I take the factual events of history very seriously. On occasion, however, I have had to bend the facts slightly to allow my fictional characters to live, work, and fall in love in a “real” world. Did you notice the following bent facts in Mail-Order Mistake?
Despite the fact that tintypes of May were sent to her suitors, in reality, they were not widely available until two or three years later.
A New Orleans sandwich made up of fried oysters and crispy French bread was called an oyster loaf until the early 1900s. That sandwich would evolve into the famous po’boy sandwich.
Although telegrams are exchanged between Jeremiah and his boss, Mr. Pinkerton, in this story, actual widespread use of telegrams did not happen until a few years later due to high costs.
One fact that was not bent was the use of female detectives by the Pinkerton Detective Agency, most notably the detective Kate Warne who went on to save the life of the incumbent president Abraham Lincoln.
Bestselling author Kathleen Y’Barbo is a multiple Carol Award and RITA nominee of over eighty novels with more than two million copies in print in the United States and abroad. She has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award as well as a Reader’s Choice Award and is the winner of the 2014 Inspirational Romance of the Year by Romantic Times magazine. Kathleen is a paralegal, a proud military wife, and a tenth-generation Texan, who recently moved back to cheer on her beloved Texas Aggies. Connect with her through social media at www.kathleenybarbo.com.
