An Agent for Opal

by P. Creeden

  Dudley peered at her with a busted lip and both his eyes barely cracked open through swollen lids. He shook his head. “Opal, I told you to stay out of this.”

  The ruffian lifted a brow and released her cousin’s collar. A smile tugged on his lip as he backed away. “Opal, huh? So, you two know each other.”

  She hissed at her situation and grabbed hold of her cousin’s arm. “Don’t follow us, or you’ll make me use this pistol when I don’t want to.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” the man said, shaking his head.

  Together, she and Dudley boarded the train, but her eyes never left the man who stood in the station, while the other two ruffians woke and stood. The man’s gaze never left hers, either, his smile unwavering. She swallowed, relaxing only once the train started pulling out from the station with the man still on the platform. She let out a breath, sure that the man’s face was ingrained in her heart and would haunt her for quite a while.

  Chapter Two

  Dudley insisted that they stick to the arrangement and separate once they reached the station in Winston. Opal didn’t like it. Although they had gotten ice from the conductor to bring down the swelling in his eye lids, Dudley still looked worse than he ever did. According to plan, they left each other at the station in Winston. Dudley headed for Atlanta, Georgia, while she continued her original plan and headed for Denver. During the several days journey on the train, Opal spent time rereading the dime store novel and praying that the Denver office of the Pinkertons might just give her a chance. When she arrived in Denver, she found a boarding house just for ladies and rented a room there.

  Although she missed the sea breeze from Atlantic City, the summer in Denver was dryer and the sun plentiful. She didn’t mind that her curls were easier to tame in the weather there. Her first morning in the city, she spied out where the Pinkerton Office was located, and marveled at the large building which housed the offices. She walked past it several times, trying to decide how to best approach the situation. On her fourth time past, two gentlemen came down the street and spotted her. One of them approached her, hat in his hands, but his sandy hair flattened where the hat had made its home. He smiled at her, has green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Excuse me, Miss. Is there anything you need help with?”

  She blinked up at him, naturally batting her eye lashes. “Would you know who I can talk to in the agency here about a delicate matter?”

  One of his eyebrows lifted, shifting the scar that sat right over it. “Absolutely. If you’ll come with me, I’ll introduce you to Marianne. She’s the secretary in charge of just about everything in the agency. She’ll be able to help you, for certain.”

  Her heart swelled as she thanked God that she would be speaking to a woman instead of a man about the situation first. But though this stranger in front of her looked trustworthy, she wasn’t sure she should just follow him wherever he decided to lead her. She tilted her head. “Sir, I’m not in the habit of following strangers.”

  He huffed a laugh, and a bit of color tinged his cheeks. “Forgive me for not introducing myself. I’m Caleb Wade, an agent of the Pinkertons, myself.”

  Her heart flipped. She’d met a real, live agent. And with his Hessian boots and britches, he looked like he’d stepped straight out of one of her novels. She swallowed and offered him a hand. “Opal Cahill, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Wade.”

  Electricity shot through her arm at the touch of his soft but rough-skinned hand. When he pulled his hand back, her palm immediately missed the warmth of his touch. He nodded to her, his smile never leaving his lips. “If you’ll come this way.”

  The other man who’d waited a distance away nodded her direction as she approached. His dark bangs fell over his brow and covered the top portion of his brown eyes. “I’m Ben Mercer, an agent as well. Lovely to meet you.”

  She nodded toward him and offered him a hand, but the moment turned a little bit awkward and the three of them bowed together and laughed. When they entered the main building, she ogled the fine furnishings within, making her feel as though she’d stepped into one of those expensive hotels in Atlantic City that her cousin enjoyed staying at. Her nerves fluttered in her stomach. Why would the Pinkertons want a nobody like herself in this position? She wasn’t educated. She wasn’t lady-like. She was just a cousin to a gambler who owed money to demon lenders. She let out her breath slowly. And this was her chance to put that short bit of regrettable history behind her.

  Mr. Wade led her to a wide desk where a woman sat, her hair pulled back from her face. The woman was strikingly pretty, her eyes crinkling in the corners when she smiled toward her. It was hard to tell the woman’s age exactly. Mr. Wade leaned toward Opal. “Opal, this is Marianne, she is just the person you’re looking to talk to.” Then he turned to the woman standing behind the desk. “Marianne, this is Opal Cahill. Ben and I found her pacing outside the agency. She has a delicate situation she’d like to discuss with you.”

  Heat rushed to Opal’s cheeks. Why had she said it that way? It wasn’t really a delicate situation exactly, but by saying it, she’d hoped that the agents would lead her to a woman and let her alone. She didn’t want to cause their laughter or derision because she was so very late in coming to the agency to answer the advertisement. She let out a slow breath while the two gentlemen bowed and made their exit. Mr. Wade turned back to her just as he was getting ready to duck out the door and shot her a wink. That same electric feeling she’d had when they’d touched hands shot through her again, curling her very toes. A hand fluttered to her chest, where she tried to calm herself after sucking in a quick breath. When her gaze returned to Miss Marianne, the older woman raised a brow at her and had a knowing half-smile. Opal’s blush deepened.

  “Miss Cahill, please have a seat,” Marianne gestured toward the chair across from her and took a seat in her own chair at the same time as Opal sat. “What can I do for you today?”

  For a moment, Opal’s dumb tongue refused to move and the words she wanted to say got lodged in her throat. She bit her lower lip, hard enough to sting the backs of her eyes with tears. That got her out of her stupor. “Miss Marianne, I’m sorry to disturb you today. I know that it’s far past the date of interviews on the agency’s advertisement for female agents, but I was wondering, if at all possible, your agency might still be looking for a few?”

  Marianne tilted her head and studied her for a moment. “You’d like to be an agent?”

  Opal swallowed. “I know that I’m young, and haven’t seen much of the world yet, but I’m a hard worker and I learn things quickly.” She reached into her bag and pulled out the dime novel and removed her bookmark, not worrying about where it marked her page, for she’d memorized the spot already. “Ever since I saw this advertisement, I’d dreamed of coming out and answering it. But I’d never been farther west than Richmond, Virginia at the time, and coming out all this way, alone, was scary to me. I’m sorry that it took me several months past the deadline in order to muster up the courage, but I felt that I should at least try to speak to someone and ask.”

  One finger tapped against Marianne’s chin as she studied Opal for several moments. Then she reached in a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. “I can’t make any promises but go ahead and write a resume of your abilities. If you’re able to speak a foreign language or shoot a gun, please make a note of it in your resume. Consider your strengths and weaknesses. Bring it back to me when you’re ready, and I’ll take it to the head of the office, Mr. Gordon.”

  “Thank you so much,” Opal said, reaching for the piece of paper. “I can fill it out now and have it back to you in just a few minutes.”

  Marianne laughed and shook her head. “As much as I love your enthusiasm, please take the application with you and think on it fully. Don’t rush matters. Come back tomorrow and I’ll take your resume then.”

  Opal pulled the application to her chest and wrapped her arms around it. She stood slowly at the same time as Mari
anne did. “Thank you so much for this opportunity. You won’t regret it.”

  The smile on Marianne’s face widened, and she nodded her head toward Opal. Still clutching the paper to her chest, Opal started to exit the same way as she came. Excitement colored everything she saw with a newer, happier light. She wanted to head directly back to the boarding house and get started on the application, but when she stepped out of the door into the sunlight, a pair of green eyes met her just outside. A gasp escaped her.

  Mr. Wade bowed slightly and stepped back once. “I didn’t mean to surprise you, Miss Cahill, but I wanted to make sure you were able to get the help you needed.”

  She swallowed to calm her fluttering heart. “It’s all right. Yes, Miss Marianne was exactly the person I needed to see. Thank you so much for your help as well.”

  A huge grin split his face. “My pleasure. Would you like an escort to walk you back to the boarding house, Miss Cahill.”

  She frowned. “How did you know I was staying at the boarding house?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and offered her a sheepish smile. “It was an educated guess, Miss. Your accent says that you’re not from Denver, and because you were alone in front of the agency, I thought you might be traveling. There are only two places where a young lady, as yourself, might stay alone in town, and the boarding house is closer.”

  She blinked at him. Why did she feel so surprised? He was a Pinkerton Detective after all. She eyed him. His demeanor and looks were deceiving. Although Mr. Wade seemed young and handsome and that he’d have more brawn than brains, she’d been mistaken in her first impression of him. Still, she shook her head. “I’m fine. I can handle myself quite well.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure? You’re not accustomed to the area, and I’d hate if you got lost or stumble into a wrong part of town.”

  “I have an excellent sense of direction.” She smiled up at him and began walking away.

  He skipped forward to catch up with her. “If you don’t mind me asking, what business did you have with Marianne?”

  She eyed him but kept walking. “My business is my own, Mr. Wade, but if you must know, I was asking about the advertisement for Lady Agents.”

  He stopped walking. After taking a couple more steps, Opal turned about to see a surprised expression on his face. He blinked. “You? A female Pinkerton Agent?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, placing a fist on her hip. “Do you think I’m incapable?”

  His brow furrowed. “I’m not so sure any woman is capable of being an agent.”

  She blinked at him for a moment, her mouth agape. Then she closed her jaw with a click and turned about, marching forward and leaving Mr. Wade behind. Every step she took made her angrier. She had expected more from Mr. Wade. As a Pinkerton, he should have already grown accustomed to the female agents around him. Instead, he voiced the same kind of opinion Dudley did. But she’d prove them wrong. Both of them.

  Chapter Three

  Caleb watched Miss Cahill leave in a huff. Regret immediately poured over him. His biggest fault had always been saying how he felt before thinking for a moment whether he should keep his feelings to himself. He pulled off his hat and rubbed a hand through his hair. Maybe he should’ve hurried after her and apologized. But it wouldn’t have been a good time. He doubted he could make the apology sound sincere when he truly felt that women weren’t capable of being detectives in the agency.

  Being a Pinkerton Detective was hard work, sometimes they had to sleep in the street. Sometimes they weren’t permitted to sleep an evening at all. Occasionally they had to do without meals. And even after all those inconveniences, an agent still had to be ready to fight or deal with belligerent men. Either way, how could a woman handle a fight with men who would rather resist than give in to being arrested by the law. Can a woman chase after a man? The physical demands of the job were far too much.

  But she sure was pretty. There was a sparkle in her eyes that he couldn’t deny made his heart skip a beat. And when they took hands with one another, electricity had run through his body in a way that he’d never had happen before. He blew out a slow breath. She’d be worth leaving the agency and marrying if he was the kind to do that. He shook his head and turned about on his heel to head back toward the Agency. He’d known they had interviewed and accepted new female agents in the Pinkertons last spring, but he’d been deep undercover in Chicago at the time, working with Allan Pinkerton.

  But not every woman could be a Kate Warne. Certainly not likely that Opal would be. She was far too young. Her eyes held too much hope and innocence. When he got back to the agency, he headed straight to the back and the bunkhouse. When he got there, he heard a shout. Ben Mercer yelled, “Marriage? No way. There is no way that was what they had in mind all this time.”

  “It’s worked out so far. Most of the agents are staying married when the get back, but they still have the option to annul the marriage in the end,” Logan Howard said with a shrug. “I’m kinda getting used to the idea.”

  “Ha. Of course, you are. You’ve got no prospects for marriage in the future anyway,” Ben said with a growl.

  Logan stood from the chair where he’d been sitting. His crooked nose and narrow eyes giving him an even more menacing look than the former pugilist already had. “You take that back.”

  Caleb stepped between the two of them. “Now, I don’t know what’s going on, but you both need to settle down. No one needs to get to throwing blows here.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Ben shook his head. “You don’t know what’s going on. When you do, you’re going to be as angry as I am.”

  After lifting a brow and peering at Ben’s red face, he said, “I seriously doubt that.”

  “Archie is forcing us all to get married.” Ben huffed a laugh after he said it, though his expression held no mirth.

  “Very funny,” Caleb said, shaking his head and then casting a glance toward Logan. Logan shrugged again and smirked for good measure. Caleb shook his head. “You’re serious. That can’t be possible. Archie can’t force us to be married.”

  Logan slapped a hand on his shoulder. “The new lady agents are being paired up with agents with experience. In order to keep their reputations intact, each of them is married to an agent before they leave for their first case.”

  Caleb blinked. “That can’t be.”

  “It is. Archie and Marianne have already paired up over a dozen agents with lady partners. Most of them have come back and decided to stay married, so apparently the matches they are making are pretty good.”

  Caleb scoffed. “This really can’t be possible. I have no intention of getting married right now, and certainly would never come back without an annulment.”

  Logan shrugged. “Being married to a pretty, smart agent wouldn’t be all bad. It’d be easier than quitting the agency to get married. Agents and marriage don’t generally mix otherwise - women don’t like when you are constantly going to other towns for cases and staying for Lord-knows-how-long.”

  For once, it seemed Logan had a good point. It might actually be easier to be married to an agent than to a woman who didn’t understand the job. Was he actually agreeing with Logan? He shook his head. “Conveniences aside, we live in the modern age. Arranged marriages are fast becoming a thing of the past. We don’t have to sit down and take whatever we’re handed in this situation. This is America. We have rights.”

  “Thank you,” Ben said with a firm nod. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say all along.”

  Logan sat back down in his chair once more, shaking his head. “You both sound like all the rest of the agents out there... and yet they are all getting assigned females to marry at least temporarily. And, like I keep saying, most of them been staying married.”

  Caleb was getting tired of Logan’s repetition. He shoved his hat back on his head. “I’m going to go see what Pearl’s got ready in the kitchen.”

  He headed outside, where clouds had gathered overhead
and promised rain. The wind had picked up and the temperature dropped a few degrees. Caleb shook his head and pulled the collar up on his jacket as he marched across to the kitchen at the main house. Once inside, he was greeted with the smell of peach pie and found one cooling on the counter by the window. Pearl peered up at him as he entered. “Good to see you, Caleb.”

  He removed his hat. “You’re looking fine and healthy as always, Pearl. Do you have anything for a growing boy to munch on around here? I don’t think I can wait for supper.”

  She lifted a brow at him and shook her head. “I believe you stopped growing nearly a decade ago, Caleb. At your age, the only growing you can do is around your middle anymore.”

  With a frown, he patted his flat midsection. “I don’t see a problem there yet.”

  Then his stomach growled loud enough for Pearl to hear. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand while she giggled. “I suppose there’s at least a part of you that needs something to eat right now. Sit down at the table there and I’ll fix you something up quick.”

  He smiled at her and sat down, happy that Pearl was always generous with her cooking. When the door to the kitchen swung in behind him, he frowned at himself. He’d grown too comfortable with being back at the Agency. Normally, he’d have taken the seat facing the door for his protection and so he could see what might come in. But here, he’d automatically made himself vulnerable by putting his back to the door. When Marianne came around to the side of the table, he let out a relieved breath as the tension slipped from his shoulders. Then he remembered the conversation he’d just had with Logan, and his stomach soured. “Marianne, is it true what Logan’s been spewing in the bunkhouse? Are you and Archie now in the matchmaking business?”

  Marianne let out a tired sigh and then placed her palms on the table across from him. “Caleb Wade, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve had more than an earful of complaints from agents who protested the new policy, but policy is policy. Either you do your duty as a Pinkerton and take care of your new partner, if you’re assigned one, or you don’t do your duty and consider leaving the agency. You don’t get to pick your female partner any more than you would if she were male. The marriage is on paper. It can be annulled if you want when you come back from your assignment. It’s all simple. And I don’t want to discuss your feelings about the situation either, understood?”