by Lynn Donovan
He smirked and turned from her. “Annie deserves a chance to see her dreams come true.”
Katheryn reached toward his retreating back, but didn’t touch his shoulder. “I’m not arguing with ya. I just don’t see how—”
He glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “Perhaps the Good Lord will provide a way.”
Katheryn nodded as Raymond left the house. Silence engulfed her thoughts. She looked around the kitchen. Everything was clean and put away. She wandered into her bedroom and knelt beside her bed. “Dear Lord, if it be thine will, show Raymond and me a way to help Annie Kate.”
A gust of wind blew hard against the window, rattling the pane and shaking the wall. The oval framed photo of her and Ronny, Senior, at their wedding swung from the nail and fell onto her cedar chest. Katheryn stared at the exposed nail, the ghostly shadow where the picture had hung for nearly fifty years, then let her eyes drop to the fallen frame lying on the chest. “Oh Lord. Not my blue-ribbon quilt. I promised her momma I’d save it for her weddin’.”
Katheryn slowly, laboriously rose to her feet, and walked to the chest. Harriet Oleson had always admired that quilt. Her daughter’d come of age to marry, too. Even if she didn’t want it for herself or Nellie, she could sell it in her store. Everyone in four counties knew and loved that quilt. She’d buy it from Katheryn in a heartbeat for a song. Katheryn sighed, sorrow heavy in her heart. “But I need more than a song for this quilt, Lord.” Tears clotted her throat. “I need a train ticket to Denver.”
Katheryn pulled the bundle from the chest and sat it on top of the lid. “Tomorrow when Raymond goes to town to sell his pig, I’ll go with him, to see how Mrs. Oleson’s getting along.”
She changed into her night clothes, braided her rusty grey hair, and crawled under the covers. “Dear Lord, watch over Annie Kate. Don’t let no harm come to her when she becomes a Pinkerton Agent. Bless the man who put that ad in the paper. And Bless Raymond and me when we are left all alone after Annie Kate leaves.” She choked on her tears and mumbled, “Amen.”
She turned over and stared at the picture she had returned to the nail on the wall. “Good night, my darling. I miss you. If you’ve got any influence up there, please help us find a way to help Annie Kate.”
CHAPTER THREE
Steam washed over Annie as the train rolled past. She rocked up on her toes, squeezing back the squeal that longed to be released. Her grandma’s carpet bag clutched close to her waist with both gloved hands. Grandma had loaned her the bag and the gloves.
The steward stepped out, set a little step stool down, and put out his white-gloved hand to assist her into the passenger car. She knew she was grinning like a mad woman, but she just couldn’t help herself. Moist cheeks stung from the tears she had shed kissing Grandma Hinkley, Raymond, the Olesons, and so many other friends who had come to say goodbye at the depot. Everyone knew this was her dream, and it took the village to get her on this train to fulfill that dream. The rest was up to her. She was determined to be accepted by the Mr. A. Gordon.
She turned at the top of the landing to wave one last time. Nearly every person she knew in town stood in a cluster just past the covered platform and waved. Grandma Hinkley dabbed at her eyes with the pretty embroidered hanky she stored between her bosom. Raymond stood the tallest, his hand reached the highest, as he shook it from side to side like an up-side-down pendulum in the old grandfather clock.
Something heavy slammed into Annie’s heart and her breath hitched in her chest. This could very well be the last time she ever saw these people alive.
A woman stepped up behind Annie, waiting to board the train car. Annie tore her eyes off her family and friends, and met the woman’s impatient glare. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
One last all-encompassing glance, then Annie forced herself to move… farther… into the car, as her heart slid to her feet like an axe head in a pond. She sat hard in the seat still clutching the carpet bag. Her gaze went immediately to the window where she watched her family wave and blow kisses through huge distorting puddles of tears.
She sniffed.
Should she get off the train? Go back to the ticket master and get the money back? Would he give her the money back?
Petticoats swished as someone sat in the seat across from her. Annie tore her gaze from the people outside the train. The woman who had rushed Annie to enter the passenger car. Right now, Annie hated her for forcing her to stop waving to her dear family. Did she not realize this could be the last time Annie saw her sweet Grandma Hinkley or darling Raymond?
“You’re first train trip?” The woman smoothed her skirts and folded lacy-gloved hands in her lap.
Annie refused to look at her. The train jerked into motion and the people in the car swayed in the opposite direction like wheat in a breeze. Annie leaned into the window, keeping Grandma in her sight. She waved close to her face so they could see her hand. “Bye,” she murmured softly, knowing they couldn’t hear. “I love you all!”
The train gained speed, moving away from the little depot and all those whom Annie held dearest to her heart. She remained pressed against the glass until she couldn’t see them anymore. Would she ever again?
Turning to the woman with a huge intake of air and courage, Annie sat back. Kate Warne was the bravest woman Annie knew. She had to be brave, too. A tear betrayed her resolve. She quickly swiped it from her cheek and lifted her eyes to the woman. “I’m going to be a Pinkerton Detective in Denver, Colorado. Where you going?”
An uncertain eyebrow rose on the woman’s forehead. “I’m going to visit my sister in Denver. She’s having a baby and needs my help with her other four, very energetic and feisty boys.” She smiled reflectively. “It’ll be nice to have a companion for the entire trip.”
Annie tried to smile, but it took too much effort to stay the tremble in her lips. Her family and friends had sacrificed so much for her to be on this train. Could this woman understand the importance of today? Her lifelong dream of being like Kate Warne, a Pinkerton National Detective, hovered just out of her grasp.
Only a week ago she learned the office in Denver, Colorado had begun accepting applications from women. The thought still made her want to squeal with delight. What an opportunity! But what a dilemma. The Hinkley’s were poor farmers. They raised cows, pigs, and chickens; a vegetable garden, but only enough to feed themselves, nothing more.
When Annie saw the ad in the paper, her heart soared, but it soon plummeted and crashed. She went to her room, as her Grandma had asked, but didn’t read the dime novel that Raymond had bought her. Birthday or not, she stewed and fretted all night, not sleeping a wink. Come daylight, she saddled up T.C., her chestnut bay, and rode into town. Little did she know her Grandma Hinkley and Raymond had been making similar plans. They all ended up at the Olesons’ General Store, prepared to sell the one thing they each owned that might bring enough money to buy Annie a train ticket to Denver.
Annie sold the mother-of-pearl comb, her only possession of any value. She had wrestled with the idea all night, but in the end decided Momma would have wanted her to sell the comb if it would get her to Denver to apply with the Pinkerton Agency. Grandma Hinkley had sold her blue-ribbon quilt. Annie’s heart broke into a dozen pieces when she realized what Grandma had done. She knew how much that quilt meant to her and without saying anything to her grandma or Mrs. Oleson, Annie vowed someday she’d buy it back. Raymond sold his pig before he’d had a chance to fatten him up and enter him in the fair. Her girlfriends had gathered various trinkets and bobbles and sold them to Mrs. Oleson, giving all the money to Annie Kate. She carried the precious coins in her reticule. Hearing them jingle reminded her of the love that followed her to Denver.
Grandma Hinkley, Raymond, and Annie Kate ran into one another at the train depot. Each was checking to see if they had enough money for the ticket. It was a bitter-sweet discovery. Annie had found out the money for the comb wasn’t enough and had just turned from the window when Grandma stepped up beh
ind her. Annie hugged her grandma, knowing what a huge sacrifice she’d made.
The two of them turned back to the ticket master and offered their collective funds for a ticket. It was just enough. But then Raymond stepped up and told the ticket master to upgrade her ticket to include the dining car and a sleeping berth, and gave Annie a little more for spending money.
Annie had shed even more tears as she jumped to hug Raymond around his neck. Now all she’d need was a traveling gown and some decent shoes. Raymond had enough for both. They walked together back to the Olesons’ store to make that purchase before returning home.
Annie smoothed the skirt of her dark blue traveling gown. Her Sunday shoes weren’t as comfortable as her old boots, but with time, they’d get broke in and be fine. She’d make do until she received her first paycheck.
A paycheck!
As a Pinkerton agent!
She’d endure any inconvenience, any discomfort, if it meant she could be a Pinkerton. Besides, the ad said she’d receive a uniform. Between that and this new gown, she would be fine.
Fine— and— dandy!
She smiled at last, heaving a huge sigh, and turned from the countryside sweeping past the window to the woman across from her. “I’m glad to have you for a traveling companion, too. Tell me about your sister.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Bruno Thomas jotted last-minute notes in a leather-bound journal. When he got back to the Pinkerton National Detective office, he would sit down and transcribe the legible-only-to-him notes into a formal report. His mission had been successful and he had left the embezzlers behind bars in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. He sighed and rubbed his cauliflower ear. A habit he’d developed ever since the injury. He bore many disfigurements from his years as a bare-fisted boxer. The bridge of his nose was crushed, leaving him with a stuffed-nose sounding voice. His right cheekbone had been broken four times, a few teeth were missing, and his fingers had been broken so many times his knuckles looked like a gnarled oak branch. He knew he was an unsightly man, but the ugliness of his appearance made him a threatening detective, so that worked in his favor.
The landscape out his window looked familiar. How close to Denver was he? Just then, the steward came through the car announcing, “Next Stop! Denver City!”
It was ridiculous how those words exhilarated his soul. Home. It was so good to have a home to come to at the end of a mission. Flashes of dirty animal stalls where he had been expected to survive between matches rolled through his mind. It had been a little over a year since Archie Gordon found him and offered him a job with the Pinkerton Agency. What a blessing Mr. Gordon had been. Bruno hated his life back then. Hated what he had to do to stay alive.
As a kid, he was forced to do unspeakable things. His size had become his salvation from that cesspool life. Frankie Evans didn’t care how he made his money with the orphans he took into his “care.” Bare-fisted boxing was a relief, of sorts. At least it gave him a way to express his anger. And he wasn’t expected to actually kill anyone.
Mr. Archie Gordon found him in the muck of his life, recovering from an especially brutal loss. Gordon asked one vital question. “Is this what you want, lad?”
“No sir! But what choice do I got?” Bruno had hung his head in shame.
“Listen to me, lad. I’ve been where you are, in a way. You got choices. How old are you?”
Even though Bruno was bigger than most men his age and his face bore evidence of many scares and broken bones, he retained a boyish look that gave away his lack of years. He had answered defensively as always. “I’m old enough.”
Mr. Gordon had smiled at that. “I’m believing you on that one. Come with me, lad. I’ll teach you to solve crimes and live a better life, an honorable life. Come with me and be a Pinkerton Agent.”
Bruno smiled painfully. “Deal!”
Bruno never looked back. He learned everything he could from Archie and the other agents in the Denver office. Strategy and defense. Offense and protection. A client’s safety came first and foremost. He made a sacred vow to God and to Mr. Gordon, to protect whatever client he was assigned. Even if that meant with his own life. He could serve as a human shield if necessary.
He had gone to the priest to give his confession and receive absolution. He was ready to die in the line of duty. It certainly was better than dying in a pool of his own blood on a dirty stall floor behind a fighting ring.
If all else failed, with his brute strength alone, he knew how to kill the average man with one solid punch to the chest, as long as he could stand toe to toe with his opponent. He’d learned to shoot a gun with precision, between heartbeats. Pinkerton Agent Blake Bentley had taught him that. Agent Bronson Wauneka taught him how to throw a knife with absolute accuracy.
Bruno learned everything he could from the agents. He did not ever want to go back to the life he had before the Pinkerton Agency. This had been a year of freedom. For once in his life, he felt good about what he did for a living.
The train slowed, jerking to a stop, bringing his thoughts to the present. He stood with the other passengers. Towered over them more like, waiting for the stewards to open the doors and let everyone off. Bruno planned to hail a taxi and go straight to the office. His stomach growled. Hopefully Pearl would have something hot on the stove. Even her leftovers were good fixin’s in Bruno’s culinary opinion.
He ducked to clear the top frame and stepped out of the passenger car, surveying the crowd before stepping down— like Archie had taught him. Always be aware of what’s around ya, lad. No matter where you are. Look for trouble and then trouble won’t surprise you.
A young girl clung tightly to a carpet bag. She approached a line of taxi carriages that waited along the depot building. Dressed in a dark-blue traveling gown, she looked as if she were older than he, but somehow he knew they were about the same age. The taxi drivers weren’t fooled either. They ignored her attempts to hail their services.
“Excuse me!” She stepped up to the driver, but he pulled his vehicle forward after the one in front of him boarded a paying customer, disregarding her pleas.
“I need to go to four-twenty-seven Chain Bridge Road.” She ran alongside the moving carriage. “Please. I have money to pay.”
She fell back from another carriage that moved away from her. Bruno took a step toward the long line of taxis just as the girl hiked her skirt, gripped a handle on the front of a carriage and climbed toward the unsuspecting driver, who turned in surprise at her boldness. “Now look here! I need to go to the Pinkerton National Detective Agency Office and I got money to pay you! Now take me to four-twenty-seven Chain Bridge Road!”
She held out coins in her palm and forced the driver to take it. He nodded. She climbed down, straightened her skirts and stepped into the carriage with a most dignified lift of her chin. Bruno reached the driver just before he flicked the reins on his steed and held the horse’s bridle. “Uh. Excuse me. I believe I heard you say you were going to the Pinkerton Office. I’m an agent, ma’am. May I accompany you there?”
She peered out of the window with terror-filled eyes. A common reaction from people who saw him for the first time. But fear turned to a glare with a flame burning behind her icy golden-brown eyes.
Not a common reaction.
A mischievous desire rose in him to stoke that fire. He cleared his throat. As a Pinkerton agent, he was duty-bound to be respectful. Why did this girl stir such inappropriate feelings in him?
What was this? She, a complete stranger? And yet he was drawn to her. An unrelenting desire to protect her bloomed in his heart. To make sure she got to Mr. Gordon’s office without so much as a scratch became his sole priority. Surely, she was seeking the Pinkerton’s help, bringing a case for them to solve. What such a young girl would have to resolve, he couldn’t imagine, but here they were, heading to the same location. Why not share the taxi?
“I believe, this taxi is mine. I’ve paid the driver and will thank you to find another.” She sat back with such con
fidence, Bruno had to laugh.
“Ma’am. We are going to the same address. I tell you what, I’ll ride up top, with the driver. You’ll be safe and I’ll get to work. Besides Mr. Gordon would skin my hide if he found out I didn’t protect a potential client as soon as I realized she sought his help.”
The girl’s mouth popped open. “I’m not a potential client. I’m—” She closed her mouth and sat back, staring straight ahead. “It’s none of your business what I’m doing or what business I have with the Pinkertons. Besides, how do I know you’re not lying?” Her burning eyes swept him from head to toe. “Just because you tell me you’re a Pinkerton agent, don’t mean you are one.”
Bruno smiled. “True. And that’s a good point, ma’am. Here. This is my badge.”
She glanced, then looked with earnest. “That a real Pinkerton badge?” Awe laced her words, then she resumed the unimpressed glare.
Bruno chuckled. He really liked her spunk. “Yes ma’am.”
She reached through the open carriage and touched the insignia. Her gloved fingers brushed his as he held the badge out for her to inspect. Something almost electric, like a static spark, tingled all the way up Bruno’s arm. “My- my name’s Bruno Thomas, ma’am. May I inquire as to who you are?”
“I-I’m Annie Kate Hinkley.”
“Well, Miss Annie Kate Hinkley, it would be my honor, as a Pinkerton Operative, to see that you arrive at my office safely. I will ride up top. You won’t even know I’m onboard. And then, I’ll see you inside the mansion. Miss Marianne will take over and see to whatever secret mission you are on— Deal?”
His gapped-tooth smile stretched his mouth wide, but he couldn’t help himself. There was just something about this spitfire of a girl. He could only hope whatever she needed from the Pinkertons, he could be the agent assigned to her case.
“Whatever you feel you must.” She touched her hair with the small gloved hand. “I see I cannot convince you otherwise.” She sat back and stared forward.
