by Laura Beers
Warren glanced down and saw that she had stepped into a large pile of fresh manure. Stifling a laugh, he brought his hand up to cover his mouth.
She lifted her skirts, yanked out her dung-covered boot and pursed her lips. Without saying a word, she continued walking toward the hotel with her head held high. He admired her gumption, but he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Attempting to keep her dignity, Audrey kept her skirt from touching her dung-coated boot as she marched toward the Dusty Coal Hotel. It was a two-story, wooden structure, painted white, with a rickety porch in the front.
As she stepped onto the porch and reached for the door, Warren’s hand suddenly moved in front of her. “Will you please allow me to be a gentleman?” he whispered into her ear.
Forcing a smile, she nodded. “If you insist.”
“Thank you,” he murmured as he opened the door and stood aside, waiting for her to enter.
To her pleasant surprise, the entry hall was nicely decorated, and fresh flowers sat on an entry table. An older woman walked into the room and smiled warmly at them. “Welcome to the Dusty Coal Hotel,” she said, her frail voice holding kindness. “May I get you a room?”
Feeling immediately at ease, Audrey returned the woman’s smile. “Actually, may we get two rooms?”
“Oh?” The woman’s smile dimmed as she glanced between them. “Are you two not married?”
Realizing her blunder, she held her breath. Warren quickly slipped his arm around her waist and chuckled. “Yes, we are married, but my wife was hoping to get a spare room for the four trunks that she brought along.”
An understanding smile came to the woman’s expression. “I apologize, but we only have our honeymoon suite available tonight.” Walking over to a desk, she explained, “It should be adequate space if you stack your trunks in the corner.”
Trying to stifle the growing panic building inside of her, Audrey kept silent. How was she going to sleep in the same room as a man? Yes, he was legally her husband, but…
“That will be perfect,” Warren said, tightening his hold around her waist. “My wife and I are only newly married, so the honeymoon suite sounds perfect.”
The woman pulled out a ledger and placed it on the desk. “How recent?”
“Only a few days.” He dropped his arm from her waist and approached the desk. As he signed his name on the line, he added, “We are looking for an investment opportunity and decided to mix business with pleasure.” He winked at Audrey and smirked, clearly enjoying her discomfort.
“Yes,” she managed to say, “more business than pleasure, I’m afraid.”
Warren waggled his brow. “We’ve had plenty of pleasure though.”
Her mouth gaped at his inappropriate words, but she closed it when she heard the proprietress laugh. “Men love to tease their brides,” the older woman stated, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Just ignore him, dearie.”
“Thank you, Mrs.…” Her voice trailed off, implying the question.
“Mrs. Henderson,” the woman said. “Please ignore my rude manners, but it is nice to have another woman in this town, even for a few days.”
Audrey smiled at Mrs. Henderson. “It will be nice to talk to someone that is not my husband,” she said, giving Warren a knowing look.
Closing the ledger, Mrs. Henderson asked her, “Are your trunks at the train station?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Splendid,” she responded. “I will have them picked up and placed in your room shortly.”
Mrs. Henderson pulled out a key from under the desk and extended it toward Warren. “Here is the key to your room. You are up the stairs, last door on your left.” As she came around the desk, she added, “The dining room is open from six to eight for breakfast and again from five to eight for supper.”
Warren smiled as he shared, “We plan to eat supper with Mayor Brown at six.”
“You are in luck, then,” Mrs. Henderson exclaimed. “Our cook is preparing his specialty tonight.”
“Which is?” Audrey asked, her stomach grumbling a little.
“Venison chili,” Mrs. Henderson informed them with a smile.
“We have something to look forward to, then,” Warren said.
Smoothing out the bodice of her dress, Audrey moved toward the stairs and placed her hand on the banister. Warren walked behind her, then caught her elbow as she stepped on the first stair. Together, they walked to their room. After he unlocked the door, he pushed it open and stood aside, waiting for her to enter.
As Audrey stepped into the room, her steps faltered. This room was smaller than her closet back home in Cincinnati. An iron-framed bed dominated the room and sat between two tall, narrow, open windows that had simple, white curtains flowing in the wind. Besides a wooden chair in the corner, there was a washstand with a water basin and pitcher, a wall-mounted mirror, and a lamp sitting on a nightstand near the bed.
Warren nudged her forward as they walked into the room. He dropped his bag near the door. When he sat on the bed, he sank into it, made a face and chuckled. “I think this mattress is stuffed with straw and goose feathers.”
“Excuse me?” she asked. “Why would anyone stuff straw in the mattress?”
He looked at her in disbelief. “You are teasing me, right?”
Edging herself away from the bed, she replied, “I don’t have a lot of experience with hotels.”
Despite what she said, Audrey had spent considerable time in hotels when she traveled in Europe, but they were elite hotels that catered to the rich. She doubted that Warren would appreciate that detail about herself.
Warren brought his right leg up to rest on the bed as he watched her carefully. “Not only is this honeymoon suite almost twice the size of a normal hotel room, but this bed is the largest one that I have ever seen.”
“You can’t be serious?” she asked, walking toward the window. She noted that she could see the sheriff’s office from their room.
“It’s true,” he said with a serious expression. “Besides, typically, the mattress is stuffed with horsehair and is thrown on wooden slats.”
Staring out the window, Audrey attempted to school her expression. She had been raised in privilege and had never experienced such rough circumstances. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t. If she wanted to be a Pinkerton agent, she needed to accept that she would be staying in primitive conditions.
A strong, distasteful odor came from outside, and she closed the window. “Regardless, we can’t possibly share a room.”
“We are legally married, dearest,” Warren stated firmly.
She turned to face him, her voice hushed. “It is improper, and we both know why.”
Warren sighed as he dropped back onto the pillow, placing his hand on his stomach. “If this is too much for you, I can send you back to Denver on the next train.”
Straightening her shoulders, she pressed, “Can’t you just sleep outside?”
“No.”
Looking over at the faded floral wallpaper, she tried again. “Then, at least sleep on the floor.”
He tilted his head and looked at the nicked wooden floors. “Naw. I will just sleep on the bed.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “We are both adults, and we can both sleep on the bed.”
“Really?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
She tentatively lowered herself down on the bed and reached for the two pillows, placing them between them. “You will stay on your side, and I will stay on mine.”
He rolled to his side and onto the pillow barrier. “I should warn you that I move in my sleep.”
Pushing him back, Audrey laughed. “You are already encroaching on my side.”
There was a knock on the door, and Warren grabbed his pistol, sliding it under a pillow. “Come in.”
The door opened, and two workers carried in her trunks. Once they were stacked up against the wall, there was very little walking space in the room. Audrey arose and walked over to her trunks. Sh
e removed from the trunk one of her favorite maroon gowns with ornate ruffles and lace that fit her body perfectly.
Placing it on the bed, Audrey informed Warren, “We should probably start dressing for dinner.”
“I’m already dressed,” Warren informed her as he slid up and rested his back up against the iron headrest.
“Well, I am not.”
He smirked. “Go ahead.”
She tossed a pillow at him. “Will you please step outside?”
Warren rose and said, “All right. I will go use the outhouse.”
“Outhouse?” she asked, horrified. “There is no indoor bathroom at this hotel?”
Warren laughed loudly as he stepped to the door and opened it. He looked back over his shoulder and shook his head. “Bathroom,” he murmured, laughing again.
After he closed the door, Audrey rolled her eyes as she heard him laughing down the hallway. Why was it so unbelievable that she had never used an outhouse before? Her townhouse in Cincinnati had indoor plumbing.
Before she changed, she removed her boots and tossed them into a corner. Fortunately, she’d brought multiple pairs of shoes and didn’t have to clean her dirty boots just yet. She made quick work of changing into her dinner dress before heading toward the hotel’s dining room. At the bottom of the stairs, Warren was waiting for her. He smiled his approval when he saw her.
As she stepped on the last step, he offered her his arm. “You look lovely, Audrey.”
“Thank you,” she replied, finding herself immensely pleased by his compliment. Instead of escorting her to the dining room, he began leading her toward the main door. “Why are we going outside?”
He led them outside and escorted her toward the back of the hotel. “It is time for more training,” he said as he found a path that wound through a stand of pine trees. “During dinner, you will need to follow my lead and try to remember everything that is said.”
Warren glanced over at her. “Also, make sure you take heed of their body language. It’s as important as what is said. A deceptive person will try to anticipate your questions, so their answers sound instinctive and natural. You should leave the questions to me, because I am prepared to ask them something they don’t expect.”
“I see,” she murmured, feeling anger building inside of her as they strolled between the trees. “And would you like me to take notes?”
“No,” he responded, shaking his head. “That won’t be necessary, but I like your enthusiasm.”
She pulled her arm out of his and stopped, facing him. “You want me to just sit there and observe?”
Warren rubbed his hand over his chin, thoughtfully. “You are right. Perhaps it would be best if you just engage Mayor Brown’s wife in idle chit-chat and leave the mayor to me.”
She bit her lower lip before saying, “If I understand my role correctly, you would like me to act as your secretary on this investigation.”
He gave her a puzzled look. “I never implied…”
“You did,” she stated, cutting him off.
Stepping closer, he defended, “What do you expect me to say? You have no practical experience, and my job is to train you.”
“How are you going to train me as an agent if you refuse to let me work beside you?”
He stepped closer until no distance was between them. “I am trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection,” she declared.
Warren’s hands came up to her shoulders. “You do,” he insisted, as his eyes sharpened. “Were you even aware that every man in town has been staring at you since you arrived?”
“That does not matter.”
“It does! You have to be aware of your surroundings at all times, constantly assessing potential threats that may come your way.”
“I have been,” she assured him. “I already found the fastest escape route from our hotel room, and I discovered where the sheriff’s office is.”
Warren removed his hands from her shoulders and stepped back. “Did you bring your derringer?”
“I did.”
Looking down at her skirt, he ordered, “I want to see you draw it.” By the time she pulled out her derringer, Warren was pointing his gun at her chest. “Again. Faster this time.” He tucked the gun back into his belt and covered it with his coat.
Over and over, she practiced removing her gun until Warren seemed satisfied. Finally, he said, “Tomorrow we will see how accurate you are.”
Placing the small pistol back into her pocket, Audrey smirked. She always hit her mark.
Chapter 5
Escorting Audrey into the small, square dining room, Warren could not help but notice her stiff body language. She was angry with him, and he did not understand why. Couldn’t she see that he was trying to protect her? Audrey was not ready to be tested in the field.
“Mr. Kimball!” A booming voice came from across the room.
Mayor Brown stood next to a table, waving him over. “Remember, we are in love,” Warren remarked under his breath.
With a forced smile, she started to mumble, “I would never be in love with such a male chauvinist…”
“Mayor Brown!” he exclaimed loudly to cover Audrey’s voice as they neared the table. “How are you?”
“I am well,” the mayor replied. He gestured toward a woman sitting at the table. “May I introduce my wife, Ruth.”
A little, round woman with dull, brown hair rose and smiled kindly. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Looking down at Audrey’s dress, Ruth said, “My husband told me you were a pretty thing, but his description did not do you justice. You are exquisite, my dear. Just like the models out of the magazines from the East.”
Audrey placed her hand over her chest. “You are too kind.”
Warren was surprised at how genuine Audrey’s response sounded. It almost appeared that she was unaccustomed to such praises. Which was ludicrous, of course.
A middle-aged man with sandy hair and broad shoulders rose from his seat at the table. “We don’t get too many women in these parts, and it is always nice to see a fresh face.”
The mayor gestured toward the man who had just spoken and introduced him. “This is Mr. Douglas, our distinguished banker, and,” he paused, nodding toward the last man standing, “this is Sheriff Walker.”
Warren walked to the white-haired, weathered sheriff and shook his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet a man of the law.” Then he shook Mr. Douglas’s hand. “And I am thankful for such a welcoming reception and for…” His words stopped when he heard Audrey laugh from across the table at something Ruth said. Why did her laughter always sound so light and unguarded?
Warren cleared his throat, tearing his gaze from her and turning back to Mr. Douglas. “As I was saying, we were looking for an investment property in Wyoming territory.”
Pulling out a chair for Audrey next to his wife, the mayor waited for her to sit down before he returned to his seat. Warren sat next to Audrey and was surprised when she spoke up. “Ever since the Union Pacific Railroad entered Wyoming, we have heard of the successful ventures in coal, iron, and timber productions. And now that the railroad hauls copious amounts of mineral resources to the Eastern market, we feel it would be an ideal time to invest in established industries. Northern Wyoming does lay at the crossroads of the northern Rockies, which I understand has an abundance of untapped resources.”
Mr. Douglas held up his glass, and approval shone in his eyes. “You are well informed, Mrs. Kimball.”
“Thank you, Mr. Douglas,” Audrey said. “However, I must admit that Governor Campbell personally reached out to certain families in the East, hoping we would invest in Wyoming’s future. My father was one of the men approached. Since Warren and I were planning to honeymoon anyway, he asked us to combine business with pleasure and see for ourselves what the opportunities might be.”
The mayor looked at her in surprise. “Our governor asked your father to come to Hickory Creek?”
“In a way,” she adm
itted, smiling. “He sent a gift basket with the reports. He hopes that Hickory Creek will grow and one day become larger than Cheyenne. Perhaps Hickory Creek might even replace Cheyenne as the capital. Who knows?”
Mr. Douglas pushed his plate aside and placed his forearms on the table, his eyes focused on her. “I have a few lucrative deals that you would be extremely interested in. We are headed for an explosion of growth, if we can adequately finance the mining industries.”
Audrey placed her hand on Warren’s forearm and turned toward him with pride reflecting in her eyes. “My husband handles all of our business transactions now.”
A server arrived to take their orders, and Warren took that moment to lean closer to Audrey, his lips brushing up against her ear. “Did Governor Campbell really send a gift basket?”
“No,” she whispered. “He traveled to meet with my father and Mr. Rockefeller, who owns a refinery in Cleveland.” Her lips curved upwards. “They had the meeting on a golf course since they are all avid golfers.”
“I don’t know anything about coal, iron, or timber,” he admitted nervously.
“Neither do rich people. We just pretend we know everything.”
Warren chuckled and leaned back as he gave his order for venison chili. Turning his attention back to Mr. Douglas, he asked, “Would it be possible to schedule a tour of these operations?”
Mr. Douglas nodded. “Yes, but we will need to bring along Sheriff Walker, since the tensions with the Indians are running high.”
“It would also provide a chance for me to give you a tour of the town and hopefully convince you to stay,” Sheriff Walker added.
Audrey lifted her drink and asked, “Aren’t you needed in town, sheriff?”
He smiled kindly at her. “I will leave my deputy behind to keep an eye on things.”
She took a sip of her drink before placing her glass back on the table. “Coming from the East, we have heard relentless stories of the Wild West and rampant crime sprees. Is there any truth to that?”
Leaning back in his seat, Sheriff Walker watched Audrey with amusement. “Those stories are grossly exaggerated, ma’am. Hickory Creek has the same disorderly behavior, shootings, thefts, and stabbings, as the larger cities in the west, but that happens mostly when the cowboys and lumberjacks ride into town.”
