An Agent for Arielle (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 12)

by Parker J Cole

  He glanced down at Arielle who looked up him. Then he bent and whispered in her ear. “Lesson number one: we don’t get caught in other folks’ shenanigans.”

  In a single movement, they turned and went back into the kitchen to wait out the fight.

  A couple of hours passed while the fight ended and the agents and their wives retreated to clean up and obtain new clothes. A number of the agents were heading out that day to work on cases. Caleb knew he and Arielle would be traveling with Bronco and his new bride, Claudette on the train.

  Arielle had gone to the boarding house where she had stayed to settle her bill and retrieve the rest of the items she’d brought with her. He was glad to have a few moments to himself. Arielle reminded him of fire in more ways than one. Most of his life he had been cautious, careful to stay in his ‘place’.

  His wife…no, his partner, blazed forward like a forest fire he’d seen some years ago. If they were going to try to find out who it was that had threatened Matthias Blackburn’s life, then she was going to have to act like a servant.

  “Caleb, may I come in?”

  “Of course, Marianne.”

  She opened the door. “Archie needs to see you right away. There’s a problem with the case.”

  He was up before she finished. Down the stairs he went, two at a time. Had Matthias been harmed? Injured? Had his killer followed him to Colorado?

  Pushing open the office door, he was relieved to see the politician alive and well, even though lines of worry etched his face. Archie stood above his desk, looking much better for the lack of food and wedding cake on him.

  “Mr. Blackburn,” he greeted, giving the man’s hand a brief shake. “What happened?”

  “We can’t leave yet. My bride is missing.”

  Caleb slumped into a chair. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “No sorrier than I am,” Matthias muttered. “I’ve waited two long years for her and now this. “I need your assistance in finding her.”

  “We’re at your disposal, Mr. Blackburn,” Archie assured him.

  The man’s shoulder’s relaxed. “Thank you.”

  “Caleb?” Archie motioned with his head.

  He’d already gone for the small notebook on the table. “All right Mr. Blackburn, let’s start off with her name.”

  “Arielle Bradford.”

  Chapter Five

  The lead tip of the pencil broke on the paper. Caleb barely took note of it as he stared open-mouth at Matthias.

  “What did you say her name was?”

  Matthias frowned. “Arielle Bradford. Do you need me to spell it for you?”

  Caleb and Archie both shared expressions of shock. Of all things to discover. His wife…partner…was this man’s betrothed.

  “Gentlemen, what is it?” Matthias looked back and forth between them. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Can you describe her to me?”

  Matthias did so and Caleb frowned as he noted the details. The description of the woman didn’t match Arielle. There were similarities but nothing that pointed a finger that Arielle and this person were the same.

  But how did they get the same name? Surely there weren’t a number of mulatto women all sharing the same name?

  “You’re certain that’s her name, Mr. Blackburn?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. I’m in love with the woman, I wouldn’t forget her face!” He walked around in a circle. “What is going on?”

  Caleb looked at Archie who nodded. “Mr. Blackburn—”

  There was a brief knock and then Marianne poked her head around the door. “I thought it best if both of you were present to help Mr. Blackburn.” The door opened wider and Arielle came in. She’d changed her clothes, fresh and neat.

  When she saw Matthias, she froze. “Matthias!”

  The characteristic haughtiness slide from her face.

  Matthias lifted an eyebrow. “Do I know you?”

  Caleb set his broken pencil and paper pad down. What in the world was going on?

  She drew back, looking at the politician as if he’d grown two heads. “Of course, you know me.”

  “I believe you must be mistaken,” he answered, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

  “I’m mistaken?” Arielle squeaked. “Matthias, you asked my father for my hand.”

  “Your father?”

  A smattering of indignant French came spewing out of her mouth. Caleb had no idea what she was saying. Then she swallowed and took in a deliberate breath. “My father, Brutus Bradford.”

  “Yes,” he said slowly, “I did ask Brutus for Arielle’s hand. I have no idea who you are. Although, I suppose you do look vaguely familiar.”

  “I am Arielle Bradford.” She stomped her feet and another wave of hot, angry French fell from her mouth.

  “You can’t be Arielle Bradford. You don’t look anything like her.”

  “Describe her.”

  Matthias did so and Arielle’s scowl deepened. “I can’t believe she would do something like this.”

  “Who?” Caleb asked along with Matthias and Archie.

  “My sister. Her name is—”

  “Don’t tell me,” Matthias interrupted, lifting his hand to stop her. His face had taken on a hard, angry mask. “I know exactly who she is. Two years of waiting and now this…delay.”

  Caleb sat back in his chair, understanding this whole thing had been a case of mistaken identity.

  “I should have known something was amiss when the men your father sent to protect you couldn’t find you. If you were my Arielle, the one I believed you to be…you would have run straight into my arms.”

  “Is that how it is, then?” Arielle asked.

  Matthias gave an imperceptible look. “That’s how it always has been.” He clapped his hands and then said briskly. “Well, now that this is solved. Miss Bradford, I’ll be happy to escort you back to your father’s men. They’re worried sick about you.”

  “It’s impossible for me to return.” Arielle pressed her lips together.

  “Why is that?”

  “I’m a Pinkerton agent.”

  “In training,” Caleb added, ignoring the nasty look she gave him for that clarification.

  “Miss Bradford, well, Mrs. Smith,” Archie coughed, “Recently accepted a position as one of our new recruits. Caleb here will be training her.”

  “Mrs. Smith?” Matthias’s eyes darted around the room.

  Archie spent a few precious minutes discussing the circumstances behind their marriage while Caleb observed Arielle hoping from one leg to the other. She was so anxious to be about the case.

  “I can’t allow this,” Matthias stated emphatically. “Arielle, you are the daughter of a friend. I can’t allow you to do this. It’s dangerous enough as it is. Someone is trying to kill me. If something happens to you, I’d never forgive myself. Not to mention your father would be heartbroken.”

  “Being your wife would be just as dangerous, Matthias,” Arielle replied. “I read the letter and saw the way you asked her to come to you to assist you with your work.”

  “But I would protect her.”

  “And Caleb, my husband, and fellow agent, would protect me.”

  The level of confidence in her voice at her certainty that he could protect her had him sitting straighter.

  Matthias sent a speaking glance his way that Caleb interpreted well.

  “Fine. I don’t have time to make any more changes to the plan. The governor is expecting me back. I will see you in a few days.”

  When the politician left, Archie invited Arielle to sit down and then gave her a crooked grin behind his red beard. “That was a bit of a sticky one, wasn’t it?”

  “An understatement,” Arielle said.

  “You’ll be traveling with Claudette and Bronco tomorrow. They’ve already been given assumed names for the first half of the train ride. Due to the special circumstances regarding this mission, you may have to work in tandem with them. Understood?”

&n
bsp; They both nodded.

  “Caleb, Arielle, do what you can to keep him alive. Okay?”

  Caleb paced up and down the hallway floor as he waited for his wife to finished changing for the night. He hadn’t counted on this at all. During his enslavement, the women barely had enough clothes to cover themselves. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen the naked female form before.

  But this was different. The woman behind the door was his wife. It shouldn’t have made a difference but it did.

  After another five minutes, Caleb knocked on the door. “Are you finished?” he called out.

  “Oui.”

  He figured that meant yes, so he turned the knob and entered his room.

  Dressed in a white cotton nightgown that reached to past her feet, Arielle had taken her long wavy hair and braided it into two pigtails. Its high neck made the entire gown very demure.

  “Where are you sleeping?” Arielle asked.

  “In here,” he returned.

  “I know that, Caleb. But where?”

  He went over to the ledge in front of the now curtained window and sat down to take off his shoes. “In the bed.” One shoe came off and he set it against the wall.

  Arielle’s face scrunched. “You can’t. I’m sleeping there.”

  He shrugged and started to undo the other shoe. “Well, I’ll be sleeping there, too.”

  “You can’t,” she said again.

  “I will,” he told her. Taking off his jacket, he laid it down and began to unbutton his shirt.

  Arielle’s eyes were riveted onto him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he could feel the heat of her gaze traveling over him. When the first two button were unclasped and he went to unhook the second, she stopped him.

  “Wait.”

  He paused. “What do you need?”

  “You can’t mean this.” She brooded. “We may be married but I’m not allowing you to touch me.”

  Caleb went on unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m not going to touch you, Arielle. However, I spent the majority of my life sleeping on the floor. Freezing in the winter weather, or sweating in the hot summer. Now that I have a bed, I’m going to use it.”

  A wounded expression filled her face. So vulnerable and lost, he asked, “Are you all right?”

  “You’re…you’re really not going to give me some privacy.” Little tiny beads of moisture dotted the corners of her eyes. “I’ve never been in such a compromising position before. I know you’re my husband but…” A tiny little whimper accompanied the words. For a moment, just a moment, Caleb considered retracting his stance but then he shook his head.

  “If you like, you’re more than welcome to sleep on the floor.”

  Just like that, the wounded whimper and tears dried up. “Oh, you’re impossible!”

  Caleb blinked. Had she been pretending?

  “Fine,” she retorted, the little girl whimper gone. “We’ll just have to make do because there is no way I’m sleeping on the floor.”

  He unbuttoned the last button. “It’s nice to have a choice, isn’t it?”

  She leapt up from the bed and stomped over to him. “Stop doing that!”

  “Doing what?” he asked innocently though he knew what he was doing.

  “Calling attention to our differences. You’re…lording your past over me.” She waved her hand erratically. “Trying to make sure I know how much you’ve suffered. Why are you doing this?”

  Why indeed? He rarely spoke about his past to anyone. Never. The only one who knew most of it was Cathay and she wasn’t likely to tell anyone.

  So why was he being so talkative? Especially to her?

  “Caleb, can we at least try to work together? Please? I know neither of us asked for these circumstances. Let’s just make the best of it as we can. Please?”

  He heard the sincerity in her voice. “All right, Mrs. Smith.”

  Dragging off his shirt, he stretched his bare arms and yawned hugely. It had been a long day. It would be an even longer one tomorrow.

  When he looked back down at Arielle, she had averted her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Going over to the bed, she climbed in and scooted to the other side. Caleb allowed a small grin. “Believe me, Mrs. Smith. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I said you ain’t getting on the train and that’s that.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Arielle shot back.

  The trainman eyed her, looking at her as if she were some disgusting bug. “I think you better remember your place, gal. Don’t get beside yourself now.”

  Arielle wanted to cry. She’d hardly had any sleep last night. Caleb’s massive body had taken up most of the bed. Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable and keep distance between her husband and herself had been an exercise of futility.

  Her travels to America had gone smoothly but now the trainman was refusing to let them on board even though they had paid for tickets.

  “You don’t speak to her that way,” Caleb warned in a dark voice.

  “Who do you think you talking to, boy?”

  Arielle couldn’t help but notice the disparity. Caleb, seven feet tall with shoulders as wide as a barn. This little man barely topped her own height. How could he be a ‘boy’?

  “I’m talking to you.” From his profile, a muscle was leaping in his cheek.

  “What did you say to—”

  “Matt!”

  The trainman turned at the sound of his name. Another man, dressed like a conductor came running, panting hard. “What, Vick?”

  “Let them pass. Some hoity-toity lady down there saying they her house servants.”

  Arielle stiffened but kept her face impassive. Who could it be assisting them?

  “Is that so?” the trainman sneered at them. “That’s supposed to make a difference?”

  “Look, we don’t need no trouble. They’re of the richest families this side of the Rio Grande. You know how rich folks get when they can’t get their way.”

  Matt eyed them. “All right, we’ll let ‘em go.”

  The conductor waved them onto the train. Caleb’s face still wore a hard-ridged mask. Arielle stayed quiet, lost in her thoughts. She’d never experienced anything like that before. It was humiliating.

  As they went down the narrow aisles, the sound of a female causing all sorts of ruckus filled the air. Her shrill voice sounded familiar though. When Arielle recognized who that voice belonged to, she had to suppress a smile.

  Claudette.

  Sure enough, when they came to the compartment, she heard Claudette wail. “I was just telling Albert here that I don’t know how I’m going to rest if there are other people in my cabin.”

  Bronco, the Indian Pinkerton agent stood at her side, saying nothing but Arielle had the distinct impression he was amused by all the shenanigans.

  The conductor glanced at she and Caleb. “But you…”

  “I told you, Virginia is my ladies maid. She’ll make sure I get my tonic for the trip.” Claudette made a little gesture to the stunned people who had originally shared her compartment. “Now how about you show these kind folks to the dining car and allow me to pay for their dinner?”

  The conductor looked a bit lost. Arielle admire the ingenuity of the fellow Pinkerton in training. It wasn’t too dissimilar from what she’d done in the past herself.

  “Of course. Sir, ma’am would you follow me this way? Let’s get you seated in the dining car and then I’ll find you some more suitable accommodations.”

  When the other couple left, Claudette gave a tremulous smile. “I so appreciate it, Mr. Brown. I’ll be sure to tell the railroad what a fine job you did taking care of us.”

  She dismissed the conductor with the haughty negligence of royalty and then said in a high voice, “Virginia, Sam, please put my bag on the top. It doesn’t appear there is much room. Come, Albert, we should get settled.”

  Taking the bag from Claudette, she did as requested. Once the curtains had been drawn and the
doors shut, they all settled down

  Bronco gave his agent wife a look. “Albert?”

  Arielle had to add, “Virginia and Sam?”

  Claudette pulled off her gloves. “I couldn’t think of any other names and those came easily to me. Besides, all that matters is we are now together in this car.”

  “Quick thinking, Claudette,” Arielle praised her.

  Bronco made some more comments as he sat across from Caleb. Arielle studied the man by his side. Caleb was strangely quiet. Was it because of what happened this morning at the dormitory?

  He glanced her way but she refused to look at him. Instead, she tried to take in the scenery of the outside as the train made its way to their destination.

  Perhaps it was a good thing that trainman had been so horrible to them. It had broken the strain which had encapsulated them.

  When she’d awakened after the blessedly few hours of sleep, she opened her eyes to find herself pressed tightly to Caleb’s massive frame. Heat poured off his body like a tiny sun.

  It had shocked her but she couldn’t find it within her to move away.

  Though his night shirt covered his chest, she could still see the outline of his muscles against the thin material. With something like fascination, she reached out and very gently touched his chest. The drum of his heartbeat against her palm had been steady.

  Arielle didn’t know what possessed her. It wasn’t enough to just explore the expanse of his chest, which seemed to go on forever. No. Her fingers, as if they had a will of their own, traced the corded veins up and down his arms. Muscles, rigid and hard. His fingers were splayed across his thigh.

  When she glanced back at his face, it was to find his dark honey eyes upon her.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Smith,” he said in a husky voice, heavy with sleep but his eyes were alert.

  “Good morning, Caleb.”

  He caught her in the act of exploring him. What did he think of it?

  So much had changed in the week she’d been in America. The heady self-confidence she had her whole life had disappeared. Men did not find her the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen. She’d experienced a racial prejudice she hadn’t experienced before.

  Last night and this morning, she shared a bed with a man for the first time. Her trainer and temporary husband. This escape to America wasn’t the adventure she’d thought it would be. And there was still more to come.