by Cox, Carol
“Aye, Lad.” Red gave him a look full of sympathy. “I know it won’t be easy for you. But remember, we have a partnership to think of, and don’t think for a moment that it came about by chance. I don’t believe in chances. God had a purpose for bringing the three of us together, and I’m looking forward to finding out what it is. Maybe it’s only to stand by young Jenny and show her there is still room for trust and hope in this world.” His eyes took on a mischievous gleam. “Or maybe He has plans yet for an even greater partnership for the two of you someday. Whatever the case may be, I think it’ll be worth watching this play unfold.”
He turned the empty bottle in his hands and fixed Andrew with a piercing gaze. “Are you willing to walk this path not knowing what God has in mind in the end, even if it means friendship is all you’ll ever have between you?”
Am I? The question made Andrew take a long look at the innermost motives of his heart. Could he stand back and offer Jenny his friendship, knowing he might never have anything more? Could his love for Jenny be refined in the fire of self-denial until it shone forth as a reflection of God’s love for her? He nodded slowly, meeting Red’s gaze. “I’m willing.” But I’ll need Your help, Lord, and a lot of it.
seventeen
Manuel bustled up to the corner table where Jenny was working. “My mother wishes to know if she can leave a few minutes early and let me finish cleaning the kitchen for her. Mi abuela, she’s sick and my mother is worried about her.”
“Your. . .oh, your grandmother,” Jenny said, recognizing one of the Spanish words she had picked up from her employees. “Of course, Manuel. Tell her to go, and I’ll help you clean up.”
“It is not necessary.” He puffed out his small chest. “I am a good worker.”
“A very good worker,” Jenny agreed. “Now go tell your mother she can leave. And have her take some of that barley soup. It ought to be good for your grandmother.” She watched Manuel scurry back to the kitchen, her thoughts returning to the dilemma posed by Evan’s allegations against Andrew.
To her surprise, the doubts raised by those allegations wrestled against an unexpected desire to believe Andrew Garrett was everything he purported to be. The struggle haunted her waking moments and interrupted her sleep at night. How could she believe such outrageous claims? But how could she give Andrew the trust necessary for their partnership to succeed unless she knew for sure whether they had any factual basis?
I have to know. Despite Red’s confident assertions, she couldn’t just accept Andrew’s innocence on faith. She needed proof—needed it now, before too many more sleepless nights took their toll. But how could she hope to get it?
She couldn’t very well go up to Andrew and ask. Nor could she follow him and keep watch, hoping to pick up information that would prove or disprove his innocence once and for all.
She made another entry in her ledger, then laid her pen down and considered her options. What if she could find someone to act for her? Someone she could trust to investigate without letting Andrew know of her interest. She turned the idea over in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to do it. But where could she find someone she could trust who was clever enough to pursue Andrew unnoticed?
Manuel cleared away more of the lunch dishes, slipping in between the tables with grace. Jenny stared after him, an audacious thought forming in her mind. No. She couldn’t possibly. The idea was ridiculous. And yet. . .
He returned and started wiping off the empty tables. Jenny watched him work. Small for his age, he could easily give the appearance of a little boy interested in nothing more than childish pursuits, thereby keeping him from danger. Clever? Without a doubt. And his ability to hear conversations, whether or not they were directed at him, was legend around the Pueblo.
Would he be willing to perform such a task? She thought of his glee whenever he passed along some tidbit of information he’d overheard from one of their customers. He’d love it. Now all she had to do was convince him he had to stay safe.
After she ushered their last customer out and dropped the bar on the door in place, Jenny swept the dining room, over Manuel’s protests. “Let me help,” she told him, trying not to laugh at his offended scowl. “We need to finish quickly. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
A gleam of curiosity replaced Manuel’s frown, and he peppered her with excited questions. “Is something special going to happen? You are planning a party, perhaps? Can you tell me about it while we work?”
“No, no, and no,” she replied to his entreaties. “Let’s get this work done so we can talk.”
With the cleanup finished in record time, she carried a cup of coffee and a glass of milk to a table and gestured for Manuel to sit down across from her. “I have a job that needs to be done by someone I can trust,” she began, scooting the milk over to his waiting hands. “Would you be interested?”
He lifted the glass to his lips and swallowed deeply before setting it down again. A milk mustache decorated his upper lip. “What kind of job?” he asked. “Something you need a strong man to do?”
Jenny took a sip of coffee to hide her amusement. The combination of masculine pride and the white streak above his mouth would be her undoing if she weren’t careful. “Definitely,” she told him. “I need you to get some information for me.”
The boy’s expression clouded. “Why do you not just ask for it yourself?”
Why, indeed? Jenny pondered the best way to answer and decided to be candid. “It’s information about a person. Information he might not be willing to give me if I asked.”
“Ah!” Manuel’s eyes lit up. “It is something secret, then?”
“It could be. I’m not certain exactly what we may find.” She studied the little boy’s face. “Do you think you’d like to try?”
“It sounds exciting,” Manuel said. “What do you want me to do?”
They had arrived at the sticky part. “Do you know Mr. Garrett?”
“Ah, Señor Garrett! He is the tall man, sí? The one whose eyes glow like candles when he looks at you?”
Jenny stared, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”
“And when he comes into the room, your face does this.” Manuel twisted his own features into a look of unbridled rapture. “That is the one, yes?”
Jenny pressed her hands against her cheeks, feeling them grow warmer by the second. “I do no such thing!”
“Ah, but you do, Señorita Davis,” Manuel continued, unperturbed by her agitation. “My mother has noticed it, too. She told Aunt Rosa only the other day that she would be surprised if you two were not married before the year is out.” He looked at Jenny with a happy smile. “That is the man you mean, is it not?”
“No. That is, I don’t. . . Yes, I suppose it is.” Surely she didn’t look as calf-eyed as Manuel’s imitation would have her believe. “But it isn’t what you think. It isn’t like that at all.” She straightened her shoulders in her most businesslike manner. “I need you to find out everything you can about Mr. Garrett. Follow him if you need to, but don’t let him catch you at it. Or if he does, make sure he doesn’t suspect what you’re up to. Do you understand?”
Manuel nodded gravely. “You think he may have another sweetheart, and you wish to know for sure.”
“No!” Jenny looked at Manuel in horror. “I barely know the man. I don’t know whether he has a sweetheart, and I don’t care one way or another. I simply need to know what he’s up to. Businesswise, that is.”
Manuel crinkled his forehead. “But you and he do business together, no?”
Jenny searched for a way to explain. “It is possible,” she said, choosing her words with care, “that Mr. Garrett may be involved in selling stock for mines that don’t exist. I don’t know this for sure, you understand, but I would like very much to find out whether it is true.”
“Aah.” Manuel released a long, happy sigh. “You wish me to be a. . .a spy, is that the word?”
“That’s the
idea,” Jenny agreed reluctantly. “But I don’t want you to do anything that would put you in any danger. Do you understand, Manuel? I want you to be very careful, or I won’t let you do this at all.”
Manuel drew himself up with every indication of wounded dignity. “Of course. He will never know what I am about. I will be like the cougar that stalks its prey.”
“Better be more like a little mouse that hides in a corner,” Jenny replied. She felt a sudden prick of doubt about the wisdom of this course of action. “Do you think you can handle it?”
Manuel rose and placed his hand over his heart. “Señorita Davis, I will be the finest spy ever.”
❧
Andrew shielded his eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun as he wended his way back to his rented house. Once he went over the assay reports he had tucked in his coat pocket and sent in his final report, his obligation to the Denver Consolidated Mining Company would be completed. The prospect of be-ing free to concentrate on his own interests here in Tucson—business and personal—put a spring in his step.
A lumbering freight wagon bound for Lord & Williams’s warehouse rounded the corner and headed toward him. Andrew pressed against the wall of the building behind him to let it pass on the narrow street. He had just started on his way again when he heard a voice call his name from a small plaza up ahead. Andrew squinted against the sun and grimaced when he recognized the three men who hailed him with genial smiles.
“Garrett!” the tallest one called again.
Andrew sighed and crossed the road to join the three where they clustered underneath a mesquite tree. A small boy pattered up behind him and squatted in the dirt at the base of the tree. Andrew took a second look at him, recognizing Jenny’s helper, Manuel. Where did he get those ragged clothes? Andrew wondered. He’d never seen him wear anything like that around the restaurant.
Manuel paid no heed to the men around him but scooped up a pile of mesquite beans and laid them out in an intricate pattern, apparently intent on some child’s game. Cute kid, Andrew thought. He wished he could spend time talking to him instead of the men now grinning at him eagerly.
“Have you had a chance to look over the papers we gave you?” The tall man apparently served as the spokesman for the group. The others merely watched Andrew, awaiting his answer.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I’m afraid the claim you’re offering just doesn’t fit the criteria the Denver Consolidated has set.”
All three men shook their heads in disgust, then the leader spoke. “You’re making a mistake. That’s a prime claim sure to make money for whoever owns it.”
“Sorry,” Andrew said again. “There’s nothing I can do. Good day.” He gave a curt nod and continued on his way. He’d gone over their papers, all right, and every instinct he possessed told him the claim was likely to be fraudulent. The assay report they’d given him didn’t line up with what he saw on reports from the neighboring claims. He wasn’t about to risk the group’s money on something as suspect as that.
If he had his way, every seller of bogus mining stock would be run out of town on a rail. They preyed on the dreams of the gullible but only enriched themselves. Human nature being what it was, he knew there would always be both cheats and willing victims.
But he didn’t have to like it.
❧
“Señorita Davis!”
The sharp whisper caused Jenny to look up from her comfortable seat on her sofa. She rose and crossed to the door. “Who is it?”
“It is I, Manuel. May I come in? I have news.”
Excitement coursed through Jenny when she remembered the job she’d given him. “Of course!” She drew back the bolt and swung the door open wide.
Manuel looked over his shoulder, then flitted inside like a shadow of the night. He stood tall and erect before her, eyes flashing with pride. “I have found the answers you wanted.”
Jenny peered up and down the street before she closed and bolted the door again. She sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. Manuel shook his head and stood ramrod straight before her, like a soldier reporting to his commander. Jenny half expected him to salute. “What have you found out?” she asked.
“I will tell you about my day,” Manuel began. “I left the restaurant after we closed for the afternoon. You told me I could leave early to begin my duties,” he reminded her. “I went first to the house where Señor Garrett lives and waited across the street. Soon, he came out and I followed him. He went into the assay office, then came back out again. I stayed behind him until he joined some other men. They talked for awhile, then Señor Garrett left.”
“And no one noticed you?”
“They saw only a small boy playing in the dirt.” He dropped his military air for a moment. “I have decided it is not so bad not to be tall. It can sometimes be a. . .a. . .”
“An advantage?”
“That is something that helps? Yes, then. An advantage. My cousin Rafael could not have done this,” he said solemnly. “He is too big. And he is not as smart as I am, either. He would just stand there and look at the men and make them wonder what he wanted. But I,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I crouch down into a little ball to look even smaller. And I look all the time at the ground, never at them.” He beamed at his cleverness.
“That was very wise of you,” Jenny told him. “What did you hear?”
“They talked for only a moment, then Señor Garrett left.”
“And you followed, of course.”
“No, Señorita Davis.” He lifted his chin proudly. “I stayed.”
Jenny’s mouth fell open. “But why? You were supposed to find out what Andrew is doing.”
“I was getting ready to follow him,” Manuel explained. “I waited until he walked down the street, then before I could move, I heard something. Something that made me choose to stay.”
“Don’t drag this out, Manuel. What was it you heard?”
“Something one of the other men said. He was bragging to the rest, talking about ‘unloading more of that worthless mining stock,’ ” he parroted.
Jenny blinked. “The other man? Not Mr. Garrett?”
Manuel nodded. “I learned many things this afternoon. There has been much selling of this mining stock you talked about. They wait for new people to arrive on the stage, then offer them a share in a mine. The newcomers do not know there is no mine, only a piece of paper. The man who bragged even said he told the people the quality of the ore had been verified by Señor Garrett.” He wrinkled his brow. “Whatever ‘verified’ means.”
Jenny sagged against the sofa cushion. “Then it’s true. He really is involved in this.”
Manuel’s dark eyes gleamed and he bounced up and down on his toes, looking less like a professional spy and more like an excited little boy. “The stock is being sold, that is true. But it is not Señor Garrett who does this.” He peered over each shoulder, then leaned toward her and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “It is Señor Townsend.”
“Evan?” Jenny’s voice came out in a croak.
Manuel nodded eagerly. “Sí. He makes up the new papers for them to sell and tells them how much to ask for. The men I listened to call him their boss. They said it is his idea to use Señor Garrett’s name to make people feel safe in buying.” His face clouded. “Did I not do well, Señorita Davis? Why do you look so upset?”
“You’ve done a fine job, Manuel.” Jenny parted her stiff lips and tried to shape them into a smile. “That information clears up a lot of things for me. I just need to decide what I’m going to do about it.”
eighteen
Jenny beckoned to Manuel from her office doorway. She waited until the boy scampered into the room, then shut the door with a quiet click. She knelt to his level and spoke in a low voice. “Do you think you could spend more time listening to those men without them knowing what you’re doing?”
Her chest tightened when he gave an eager nod. If any harm befell Manuel, she’d never forgive hers
elf. But the more she thought about what she’d heard about Evan’s part in the mining stock sales, the more she wanted to know the whole story. She had to find out what was going on, and this looked like her only chance.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she ordered.
Manuel paused at the door and flashed her a happy smile. “Don’t worry. I am like the little mouse, remember?”
❧
Three days later, Jenny found herself in possession of more information than she ever dreamed could be gleaned in such a short time. Manuel’s keen hearing and knack for blending into the background had proven invaluable. From the overheard comments he relayed in his daily reports, she had pieced together an astonishing list of criminal doings by Evan and his associates.
Sitting at her desk, she pulled out the notes she had taken while listening to Manuel repeat what he had heard. She stared at the incriminating evidence spread before her. Manuel’s discovery of Evan’s involvement in the sales of bogus mining stock had given her a starting point for her investigation, thus opening a veritable Pandora’s box of illegal activity. Jenny fumed, her anger at his betrayal growing by the minute. Everything Evan had accused Andrew of doing reflected some wrongdoing he himself was engaged in.
She gripped the edge of the desk with both hands, trying to contain her fury. She had recognized Evan’s desire for easy riches from the start. But she had never, not for one second, suspected him of being capable of this kind of amoral action.
Was she more upset with Evan or herself? She had called herself a hardheaded businesswoman. How foolish she had been! Anyone who could so readily fall prey to his easy lies had no right to pride herself on her acumen.
She rose and paced the room from the desk to the far wall and back again, then stopped abruptly in midstride. If Evan’s character was so corrupt, could she trust any of the aspersions he had cast on Andrew?
