The Detective Bride

by Sylvia Damsell

  “I want to see them,” Becky said, looking up at Susannah.

  “We’ll go very soon but today we’ll get things from the mercantile. You could choose some clothes and toys. Would you like that?”

  They obviously would and seemed happy to help Susannah unpack. When she sat at one point in a comfortable armchair in order to change her shoes they both scrambled on her lap, leaned their heads on her shoulders and put their fingers in their mouths.

  How could the lout do this to them? How could he drag them from one environment to another, making them think they would be in a happy family, and then discard them as if they were just props? Which was what he was using them for in order to set the scene so she and he could solve what was going on here. Susannah held them closely and felt almost maternal.

  But not maternal, of course, and she was also playing a role, just as she would if she was acting in a play. Except that this role involved vulnerable little children. She felt them relax and they had both obviously gone to sleep.

  Hadn’t they been sleeping? One night with Blair and how had he been with them? In fact, they would have been on the stagecoach coming from Los Angeles and that would have taken a few days. She thought for a moment when he pushed Dan that he was going to hit him. Had he hurt them at all?

  She slid forward in her seat and somehow managed to place the two children beside each other on the wide bed which would be hers. She was terrified they would wake but they did not and she covered them both with a blanket each before returning to her unpacking. When they woke she would take them to the mercantile and then maybe they would visit the house Blair was renting.

  What would Noah be like with children, she wondered. Would he be patient and would he have devised the kind of plan Blair had devised in order to fulfil his role? It had been so unnecessary because Blair could easily have been a widower without having children to make him more convincing. He didn’t even have to say he was a widower.

  Well, what ever the situation it could not be altered. In fact, maybe Susannah could find real parents for the children because the Ballards said that quite a few children went from the New York orphanage to this area where they were adopted. All of them had settled well, Sarah told Susannah.

  She hadn’t slept a lot on the stagecoach and the bed looked really inviting. Maybe she could have a snooze also while the children slept. She stretched on the bed next to the double one where the children were lying, shut her eyes and all three of them did not surface for ninety minutes.

  Chapter 7

  Noah opened the door at the bottom of the steps which led up to the offices of the detective agency, shut it behind him and took the stairs three at a time. Walking up them one step at a time he found tedious with his long legs, legs which enabled him to cover distances far quicker than many men. He went through a door a little way down a corridor and nodded to the receptionist.

  The flowers looked nice, he thought, but now Susannah had gone probably nobody would replace them. Women did have a way of making their environment homely. He knew that from younger days when his mother visited her parents for a few weeks. The house had becoming increasingly dusty without her there and with no added feminine touches. Just before she returned he and his stepfather dusted, did a bit of cleaning and picked flowers from the garden to put in vases. His father bought chocolates.

  But that was only because she was returning and he dreaded to think what the house would have been like if it hadn’t just been a few weeks.

  He lived in just three rooms now, a living room, bedroom and kitchen. There wasn’t even a bathroom as his parents had and he had to put water in a huge tub which he heated to a lukewarm temperature. As he bathed every day he often couldn’t be bothered to warm the water and used cold instead.

  If he ever built a house he would make it a bit luxurious, he had decided. A living room, maybe a parlour, a kitchen and definitely a bathroom with running hot and cold water. That was, if there was that sort of thing where he would build it. He would have at least three bedrooms, maybe four and if it was in the country he might have a few animals, which would include a dog and a cat. Of course that couldn’t be in New York because it was a bit overcrowded where he lived and not that good a neighbourhood. He could look after himself but he wouldn’t want a wife and children to be in such a place. Maybe at the edge of New York? What would California be like?

  A wife and children. Why was he thinking of such things? Being on his own was fine. In fact, it was better than being saddled with such responsibilities. Wives were all very well but if his wife had the kind of tastes Susannah had he would never have any money. If she had the yen for adventure which Susannah seemed to possess he would never see her or he’d be following her around in order to make sure she was alright. He might as well just live in a tent or in a wagon to make movement from one place to another easier.

  In a tent or wagon with Susannah. There were hundreds of worse things he could possibly think of. A picture of her face rose to his mind and the way she felt when he put his arms round her and kissed her. Nice, really nice, but then she was a woman so it would be nice.

  How was she doing at this minute? She might think she was capable of standing up for herself in a man’s world and had actually proved it, but a woman on her own was more vulnerable. The problem was, once she arrived in the Lone Pine area she wouldn’t be alone. She would be living as someone’s wife in the same house as him.

  Would she cook for him? He smiled at the thought. Probably not because she wasn’t the type of woman who would fuss round a man and particularly one with whom she was not romantically involved. She would tell him precisely what she thought of him if he expected her to be more than a co detective.

  But what if he wasn’t a gentleman? What if he made unwanted advances? What if she became fond of him and he of her? The first two Noah rather felt Susannah would deal with and certainly not gently. The last thought was rather bleak.

  Well, it was none of his business and she didn’t need a keeper, just as she had told him. She was a clever, smart, innovative woman who had the ability and brains to do what she was now doing which was something she enjoyed. In no time she would sort out what was going on in Lower Pine and would return to New York where there was more action on the detective front.

  So he was going to forget about her and carry on with his work without worrying about her. After all, he had only known her for a few weeks and if she was a man he wouldn’t be worried about her. But then a man wouldn’t be partnering up with someone as in man and wife. He would have to find some other role which took suspicion off him and what he was doing away from him.

  Which Clark could have arranged for Susannah if he’d had a bit more ingenuity. Why did he need to send a woman, anyway? He knocked lightly on his door and Albert Clark was sitting in an easy chair reading.

  Albert looked up. “Harold has to check on something in a notoriously noisy and dangerous saloon tonight,” he said. “I need you to meet him at seven outside it.” He nodded towards his desk. “The information in the envelope will be helpful. Then tomorrow morning he’s tailing a man who is annoying his wife. You need proof of abuse and he’s also been involved in petty larceny which so far cannot be proved. That will get him into prison for a while which will give her time to get away. Maybe you can catch him out in something bigger or create a situation.”

  “Like letting him shoot me?”

  That had happened a couple of times and he hadn’t liked it. He had a scar on his shoulder from one incident and another on his thigh from a further one.

  “Maybe. Play it by ear. She’s a nice lady and should be treated with respect.”

  One thing Noah had to give Clark was his protection of ladies and his slowness in providing proof to male clients of any of their indiscretions. He would get paid, whether the client was proved wrong or not and Noah rather suspected that he warned the ladies involved to be more discreet in their activities. Which maybe was why he had been willing to employ a f
emale detective and Noah knew he found Susannah’s presence welcome. He probably missed her, but then Noah did too.

  “I’ll be at the saloon on time,” he said. “But then I want to be away for a while.”

  Albert Clark frowned. “I need you here.”

  “I have a friend who will fill in for me. He’s between jobs at the moment but he’s done this kind of work and is an astute gentleman.”

  Clark raised his eyebrows. “Gentleman? I’m not sure I want such a person in my employ, either as a detective or a bodyguard.”

  “You have a lady.”

  Clark smiled. “Who, I suspect, can be less than a lady if required.”

  “She brightens the place. Are you going to buy flowers when the ones she left wilt?”

  “I’ve asked MacIntyre to purchase some tomorrow. Susannah is right. People need to feel at home when they come in, and particularly the women. Someone is also coming in to buy new curtains and paint the walls. I may even purchase a few more comfortable chairs.”

  “Good. Why don’t men think of these things?”

  “I don’t know. Some do, I suppose. Ask your friend to come in and I’ll see what I think of him. What’s his name?”

  “Kevin Want.”

  “How long will you be away?”

  “Not too long. I’m not exactly sure.”

  Albert bent his head to start reading again and Noah knew he was dismissed. He wasn’t a bad employer but sometimes Noah wished he could be answerable just to himself. There was nothing in New York, however, that interested him and maybe when he returned he could see if he could purchase or build a house on the outskirts.

  In the meantime he would do the assigned job this evening and hoped he could carry it off without injury. He ran down the steps, made his way to the bank and afterwards purchased a ticket at the railway station.

  Chapter 8

  “Where did they come from and who were their parents?” Susannah asked from where she stood at the door of the house which Blair had rented while she watched the children kicking a couple of balls round the garden.

  “An orphanage in Los Angeles.”

  “And how is it they let a single man have them?”

  “I’m not going to be single. Remember? Would you like to make us a cup of tea?”

  She turned slightly to where he stood a couple of feet behind her. “No, I wouldn’t. Make it yourself.”

  “You’re certainly not the shy retiring mail order bride you want everyone to think you are,” he said, making for the hob where some water was boiling.

  “And you’re certainly not a widower or a loving father. I just can’t get over how stupid and cruel you are.”

  His tone was hot. “I’m not cruel! I haven’t hurt them.”

  “You’ve made them think they’re going to have parents. Not that they care about you at all but they’ve started relating to me. I don’t want children. I don’t even want marriage. I don’t want to hurt these children anymore than they’ve been hurt in the past. Tell me about them.”

  He reached up to take an envelope from a high shelf. “It’s in there. Read it for yourself.”

  “While I’m doing it cut some cake for us all from the one I bought and make the children hot milk. Not too hot or they’ll burn their mouths.”

  “You’re bossy,” he said.

  “I’m on an assignment, as are you, and you’re certainly not thinking straight.”

  She took the papers from the envelope and started to read. The children came from a family where the father had died recently, she found. The mother was not mentioned.

  Not mentioned, which meant she might still be alive. “Have you read this file?” Susannah asked.

  “I skimmed over it. I’m a busy man. I had enough to do where preparing for this assignment is concerned.”

  “Do!” Her tone was sarcastic. “Well, I’m not sure what that involved but it certainly didn’t include your brains. There is no mention of the mother so she could still be alive. We are going to find out where she is. I would say, and then you can marry her to make up for what you’ve done, but I wouldn’t wish you on anyone.”

  Blair placed the mugs of tea and two beakers of milk on the table then went to fetch the cake which he cut in four. Susannah raised her eyebrows and had the urge to giggle. The man was an idiot in more ways than one. But before she could suggest smaller slices the children ran in.

  “There’s cake and milk for you,” Blair said. “Sit at the table and we’ll all have it.”

  Dan bit into his piece of cake and obviously appreciated it as he stuffed his mouth and started to gobble. Becky ate hers a bit more slowly though not a lot.

  “I like cake,” Dan said, his words a bit muffled with his mouth full of cake.

  “Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Blair said. Susannah kicked him under the table and he hurried on. “You might choke if you do, that’s why.”

  Dan looked at him briefly and continued to stuff. Susannah resisted the urge once again to giggle. This man really had no idea though she didn’t think he was cruel. He was just totally dense and didn’t think things through.

  “Let’s cut it into bite sizes,” she said, reaching forward to do so then doing the same for Becky. “If you eat a bit more slowly it lasts longer and you’ve got more time to enjoy it. We’ll make the pieces into little soldiers.”

  “Soldiers march,” Dan said, beginning to march one of the pieces round the plate.

  “They do and that soldier you have there is marching really well. Do you want to make faces on the cream?”

  “No.”

  “I do,” Becky said and took a spoon to etch out eyes, a nose and a mouth on each piece. Dan, obviously not wanting to be outdone, took another spoon and did the same with his.

  “Shall we make faces?” Susannah asked Blair. His expression she would have loved to commit to paper but he obediently cut his cake into pieces and did as she asked.

  “Mama draws pretty things,” Dan said, putting one of the cake soldiers in his mouth.

  “Mama’s in Heaven.” Becky put her hand briefly on Dan’s hand.

  “She’s not. Papa’s in Heaven.” Dan looked at Susannah. “Can you find mama?”

  “I will do my best,” Susannah said. “So will Blair.”

  “Who’s Blair?” Dan asked.

  “I am,” Blair replied.

  “Mrs. Higginbottom said you’re our new papa.”

  “We’re looking after you until we find your mama,” Susannah said. “However, I can’t promise you that she’s alive. When did you last see her?”

  “The naughty people took her,” Dan said.

  “Do you know who they were?”

  “No.” His bottom lip trembled ominously.

  Susannah put her arm round his shoulders. “You’re not to worry, darling. Just leave it to us and enjoy yourself. What would you like to do?”

  “Play with Larry and Tony.”

  Susannah looked at Blair. “They live on a ranch nearby but they’ll be at school,” he said.

  “Would you like to go to school?” Susannah asked. They looked a bit blank. “I tell you what. Let’s go to it and you can look round. What do you say?”

  “Alright.”

  They couldn’t have attended school in Los Angeles, Susannah thought. Hopefully they were taught at the orphanage. She fetched a couple of pieces of paper, two pencils and put them on the table. “Can you write your names and how old you are?” she asked.

  They picked up the pencils and wrote carefully. Becky Rivers. Five years old. Dan Rivers, seven years old. The writing was basic but fairly neat for their age so they had to have been taught. They looked at her expectantly.

  “Do you want to write my name?” she asked. “It’s Susannah with two n’s and an h at the end.” They wrote accurately. “Now Blair. It’s spelt b l a i r.” They wrote again. “You’re very neat. Go and get your jackets and we’ll go to the school.”

  “They’re going to tell them they�
�re not my children,” Blair said.

  “And you deserve everything you get. However, we’ll tell them you have them with a view to adoption. Have you signed adoption papers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’ll say you adopted them. They need school because they’ll get bored otherwise. Where is the school?”

  “In the middle of Lower Pine.”

  “Get the horses and the wagon then.”

  “You are bossy,” he said.

  “Only when people can’t think for themselves.”

  Susannah went for her coat and all Blair could do was fetch the wagon and horses. He brought them to the front, fetched his own jacket and they were soon on their way.

  The school was larger than Susannah was expecting, very clean and there were pictures hung up along the walls of the large corridor which, they were told by a lady they asked which way to go, were drawn by the pupils. Somehow it seemed welcoming, a fact which encouraged Susannah. They made their way to the principal’s office and a pleasant, middle aged lady stood to greet them.

  “We wondered if we might see you,” she said. “My name is Mrs. Harrison and I’m the principal.”

  Susannah took her outstretched hand. “Good morning. This is Becky and this is Dan.” She put an arm on each of the children’s shoulders. “We wondered if they could attend here.”

  “We’d be delighted to have them.” Mrs. Harrison bent towards them. “Hello, Becky. Hello, Dan. I’m pleased to meet you. Would you like to have a look round and maybe join in one of the classes?” They moved a bit closer to Susannah. “Maybe your mama and papa can come with us.”

  “They’re not our mama and papa,” Dan said.

  “Oh?” Mrs. Harrison looked at the couple.

  “I adopted them,” Blair said. “I’m a widower and got a bit lonely which is why Susannah and I are marrying.”