Something Borrowed

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

  "I don't know," Mary answered honestly. "I haven't been to the mine yet and neither has my husband. We haven't yet spoken to the mine engineers about the possibility of reopening."

  "Would you consider it?" Silver asked.

  "Of course, we'll consider it," Mary told her. "The mine is Madeline's inheritance, and we would like to have it operating and earning income not only for Maddy but for Utopia."

  "That's all I'll ask," Silver promised. "You see, Mrs. Kincaid, I really want to stay in Utopia and so do most of the girls. But we don't have very many customers these days. I'm lucky. I've been operating the Silver Bear long enough to have made my fortune, but the girls haven't. They're bored with nothing to do and no money to spend. And if Utopia dies, so does my business: I won't be able to keep the girls on. That's the problem, because most of my employees can't read or write. Farming and ranching and the kind of work they're doing is the only thing they know how to do. But none of them are likely to meet a farmer or a rancher in Utopia. So, when Jed mentioned that you were starting a school, I realized it might be a solution to my problem. If the girls had an education, they could find other work in other towns and wouldn't be dependent on places like mine."

  "So, you're asking me to enroll your girls in school so they can have an opportunity to better themselves."

  "That's it. Exactly." Silver nodded, the blue feathers on her hat bobbing up and down. "I'm asking you to clear the way so the miners' wives won't raise an outcry if my girls show up at your school."

  "How many girls are we talking about?" Mary asked, already making a mental list to see if she needed to order more desks and more supplies.

  "Three or four," Silver answered. "I have two seventeen-year-olds, one eighteen-year-old, and one who swears she's sixteen, but I suspect she's younger—thirteen or fourteen."

  Mary stared at the madam, a stern schoolteacher expression on her face.

  "I didn't recruit them into the business, Mrs. Kincaid," Silver said quickly. "One's pa left her on my doorstep and rode away, two are orphans I found starving on the streets in Denver, and one came begging me for a job and food and shelter. I couldn't turn them out any more than you could discontinue Tabitha's Gray's practice of feeding the town." She came to a stop outside the door to the Ajax Saloon, Bank, and Assayer's Office.

  "No, I guess you couldn't," Mary agreed.

  "Will you take them on?"

  "I plan to have uniforms made for all the students—two dresses of navy serge for warm weather and two dresses of navy wool for cold weather and trousers and shirts for the boys—so the mothers don't have to worry about providing decent school clothes. Your girls are accustomed to wearing… different kinds of clothes. Will they agree to the uniforms and the rules?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Silver said. "And since I'm quite a good seamstress, I'll help you make the uniforms. I'll make certain the girls are in school every day and on time and scrubbed clean like the other girls. And I'll see that they do their homework and go to bed early."

  "What about their jobs?" Mary asked. "How will they earn money?"

  Silver laughed. "We haven't had enough upstairs customers lately for it to matter. Just saloon business. But I've already thought about the money and I decided to pay the girls to go to school, at a reduced rate of course, but at least they'll be making something."

  "Can you afford to do that?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Like I said, I've put aside some money for my old age." Silver extended her hand. "I'll take care of opening your bank account for you whether you take the girls on or not, but I'd like to know if we have a deal so I can go home and tell the girls about it. Have we or haven't we?"

  Mary reached out and shook the other woman's hand. "It's a deal, Miss Delight."

  Silver pumped Mary's hand several times. "Call me Silver. No, never mind that, call me Syl. My real name's Sylvia."

  Mary laughed. "Call me Mary," she said. "I think we're about to become friends as well as business associates."

  "Who would have ever thought it?" Silver asked. "A madam and a schoolteacher becoming friends." She laughed along with Mary, then turned and entered the Ajax Saloon.

  Minutes later, Mary Alexander Kincaid became the first half-breed Indian to have an account at Hugh Morton's Ajax Saloon bank.

  * * *

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Hello, Edwin," Lee said as he entered the Pennsylvania Avenue office of Edwin Carraway, Comptroller of the Currency of the United States.

  A tall, spare man with graying hair and spectacles, Edwin Carraway came from very wealthy Maryland family—a family that had managed to stay loyal to the Union during the war. And Edwin Carraway had lived to see his loyalty rewarded by receiving a coveted Cabinet post from President Grant.

  "Hello, my boy." Edwin rushed over to Lee, gripped his hand in a firm handshake, then embraced him.

  "It's been a long time," Lee said as Edwin released him.

  "It has indeed." A sheen of tears sparkled in Edwin's brown eyes. He walked back to his desk and sat down. "I've kept up with your career through the years, up until recently. I know a lot about you, Lee. I know you travel a great deal, that you take needless risks at times, and that you've barely touched the money. I know almost everything about your career. My friends have kept me informed. Allan Pinkerton kept me informed. You're looking very well, my boy. Very well."

  "So are you." Lee continued to stand in the doorway, awkwardly gripping the brim of his hat. He hadn't realized until this moment how much he liked and trusted Edwin Carraway and how much he had missed his companionship.

  Edwin motioned him forward to a chair. "Now, come in, my boy. Come in and sit down and tell me what brings you to see me after all these years."

  Lee sat down on the chair across from the desk and stared at Edwin. For four brief months, from April to July, back in sixty-one, Edwin Carraway had been his father-in-law. And in the twelve years since that time, Lee Kincaid had been ashamed to face his father-in-law. "I've come on business, Edwin. And I've come to ask a favor."

  "I see." Edwin sat back in his chair, rested his elbows on the chair arms, and steepled his fingers in front of his face. "I'll do my best to help you, Lee, you know that. Are you still with Pinkerton?"

  "Yes," Lee said. "But I'll be retiring soon. I'm working on my last case."

  "Tying up loose ends before you move on again?" Edwin asked, probing but not pushing for answers.

  Lee took a deep breath. "No, Edwin, this time I'm tying up loose ends before settling down."

  Edwin nodded silently.

  "What do you know about Senator Warner Millen?" Lee asked.

  Carraway smiled. "I heard someone had been asking questions about the late senator, but I had no idea you were in town doing the asking."

  "I was asking questions before the senator's death," Lee informed him. "Someone else has been asking questions since his death. But it's nice to know the Washington grapevine is fairly accurate."

  "I'd met the man many times," Edwin said. "Socially and once or twice on business. But I can't say I ever actually knew or liked him."

  "What do you know about his business dealings?"

  "I heard he had become involved with some rather questionable individuals and made several questionable business deals. I heard he was losing rather large amounts of money at the gaming tables."

  "Losing or paying out?" Lee asked.

  "I heard he was losing money at the tables," Edwin answered. "But I remember thinking it rather odd, as I had never heard anyone mention seeing the Senator at the usual gambling dens in and around Washington."

  Lee knew that his former father-in-law knew just about everybody in Washington. Carraway was respected and well-liked, reliable, and a man of impeccable reputation. People trusted Edwin Carraway and they tended to say things in his presence, things they would ordinarily keep to themselves. Carraway was the type of man Pinkerton loved, the type of man Pinkerton tried to recruit. And Lee was aware that Edwin would never betray a confidence—t
hat he was only talking to Lee now because they were old friends, and because they had once been family. Almost father and son.

  "And what have you heard about a man named Sarrazin? James Sarrazin?"

  "Millen's secretary?"

  Lee nodded.

  "Not much, although I personally find him to be rather repulsive." Edwin made a face. "He rather reminds me of a snake, always slithering around, doing his best to blend into the background. He's the sort of fellow the average person would choose as a spy. Not at all like the real thing, of course." Edwin winked at Lee.

  "Have you heard of Sarrazin going on any spending sprees lately?" Lee asked.

  "Not at all. But then, I confess I haven't been paying much attention to the likes of James Sarrazin. I've been busy with this cabinet appointment and the rash of counterfeit bills we've been getting in."

  "Counterfeit bills?"

  "Aaha!" Edwin exclaimed, "Now I can ask you a favor. I understand you're something of an expert in the field. At least Pinkerton thinks so." He opened his top desk drawer, removed a small stack of bills, leaned forward and handed them to Lee along with a large magnifying glass. "What do you think of those?"

  Lee studied the bills under the magnifying glass. "They're very good. Damn near perfect. But he has a little problem with the eyes. They're not quite right. I've seen bills like this before." Lee put down the magnifying glass and looked at Edwin. "Where did you get these?"

  "From the western territories. They were in circulation in Denver, Cheyenne, Omaha, and Council Bluffs."

  "Cheyenne and Omaha are on the Union Pacific main line. Council Bluffs is at the intersection of the Chicago Rock Island, Sioux City and Pacific, and Kansas City St. Joseph railroad lines. Denver is located on the spur line Denver Pacific which joins the Union Pacific at Cheyenne." Lee paused and thought for a moment. "My guess is that your counterfeiters are working in or around Cheyenne or Denver. Probably Cheyenne."

  "That's what Pinkerton said when I contacted him," Edwin told him. "Are you interested in taking on the case?"

  Lee shook his head. "I'll do what I can to help you, Edwin, while I'm with the Agency, but I plan to resign in less than ninety days. After that, someone else will have to take over."

  "Fair enough," Edwin agreed. "Do you have a replacement in mind? I want the best and I need to know for whom to ask."

  Lee grinned at the older man and his mustache tilted to one side. "Willis. Daniel Willis."

  "Thank you," Edwin replied, quickly jotting down the name. "Now, is there anything else you want to ask me? Any other gossip you can pry out of me?"

  "Just one more thing," Lee admitted. "Have you heard anyone mention David Alexander's name lately?"

  "David Alexander… Alexander… where did I hear that name?" Edwin snapped his fingers. "I've got it! David Alexander was the name of Senator Millen's attorney. The attorney the senator practically ran out of Washington. What's it been? A year or two ago?"

  "That's right. Have you heard anyone talking about him during the last couple of weeks? Since Senator Millen died?"

  "No." Edwin shook his head. "Nothing except the usual gossip. Rumors of an intimate relationship between Alexander and the senator's daughter. I doubt that there was any truth to the rumors, though. The majority of the stories came from the senator and his cronies. And I can't give much credence to the truth of such rumors when a man is dragging his own daughter's reputation through the mud."

  Lee nodded.

  "Is this Alexander fellow a client of yours?" Edwin asked.

  "Yes," Lee answered. "A client and a very good friend." He paused, gathering his thoughts, trying to decide how to break the news to Edwin. Lee took another deep breath and slowly let it out, then plunged ahead. "There's a reason for my sudden retirement from the agency. The truth of the matter is that David Alexander is not only a client and a good friend, he's my brother-in-law. I remarried a little over a week ago."

  Edwin stared at his desk blotter for a few moments, then looked up at Lee. Tears shimmered in his eyes once again. "It's time, my boy. It's past time. Twelve years." He nodded. "Twelve long years. Congratulations, Lee, I'm sure your bride is a fine young woman."

  "Thank you, Edwin." Lee felt awkward, and yet he felt Edwin Carraway deserved an explanation. "I felt it was time to settle down—again."

  Edwin stood up and walked around his desk to stand beside Lee's chair. "I have a meeting with the Secretary of Treasury in—-" He took out his pocket watch, snapped open the lid, and checked the time. "About fifteen minutes. I hate to cut this short, my boy, but you know where to find me if you need to ask me more questions. It's good to see you again, Lee. I've missed you. Promise me you won't wait another twelve years before coming to see me again."

  Lee didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on the twin photographs in the cover of Edwin's watch. Jeannie Carraway and her mother, Joan. Jeannie Carraway, the girl he had promised to love, honor, and protect. Edwin's only child, his only daughter. But Lee had failed in his duty. He had loved her and honored her, even honored her memory, but he had failed to protect Jeannie—failed to protect her from herself, and that headstrong willfulness of youth.

  Edwin quietly snapped the lid of his watch closed, then placed his hand on Lee's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Lee. And God knows, you've never done anything to disappoint me. I'm as proud of you now, of the man you've become, as I was the day Jeannie married you."

  "If I hadn't left her at the house with Patrick… he was supposed to look out for her. But I should have known he wouldn't stand firm around her. She could always twist him around her fingers. If I had insisted she go stay with you, then maybe…" Lee closed his eyes. It had been twelve years since he had last seen Jeannie Carraway. Twelve years since he'd dared to look at a picture of her because he had been haunted by his memories of her. But now, when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Mary. Mary pulling a gun on him the first time he met her. Mary dancing with him at David and Tessa's wedding. Mary standing at the altar in a white dress, solemnly repeating her wedding vows. Mary dressed in a white ruffled nightgown. Mary running down Utopia's Main Street to tie a red ribbon around his upper arm. Mary. Lee raked his fingers through his hair. After deliberately omitting a huge chunk of his personal history, how the hell was he ever going to work up the courage to tell Mary he had been married before? After telling her about Tabby and seeing her reaction to Tabby's ultimatum, how could he break the news about Jeannie Carraway? He glanced at Edwin and realized his former father-in-law was speaking. Remembering.

  "Jeannie was a strong-willed young woman. She had a mind of her own. She loved everyone and everyone loved her. We spoiled her, Lee. You and I, and even your father, Patrick. After you left for the war, she got it in her mind to ride out and watch the first battle. Patrick and I thought we had convinced her how dangerous it could be, that the battle to come wouldn't be an afternoon picnic. But she didn't believe that. She played along, Lee. She led us to believe she had forgotten all about riding out to watch the battle, then that morning, she did exactly what she wanted to do. She saddled her horse and rode out to watch her husband—her hero—whip the rebels. But it didn't turn out that way." Edwin wiped at the tears rolling down his face. "The Union forces lost that battle, and Jeannie was killed by a stray bullet."

  "It shouldn't have happened," Lee insisted. "If only she had listened to me, listened to you. If only Patrick had done what he promised to do."

  Edwin tightened his grip on Lee's shoulder. "You're right, it shouldn't have happened, but it did. And Jeannie's dead because she did something utterly foolish. She disobeyed you and me and Patrick. She got herself killed, my boy. We had nothing to do with it." Carraway sighed. "You waited long enough. It was time for you to remarry, Lee. Now, it's time for you to forgive Jeannie for being young and foolish and terribly in love with you, and to forgive me…"

  "I never blamed you, Edwin."

  "No," Edwin agreed. "You blamed yourself and you blamed Patrick for something he couldn'
t prevent. Lee, your father did his best to keep his promise. That's all any man can do. Forgive him, Lee. Forgive yourself."

  Lee listened to Edwin's words and braced himself against the gut-wrenching pain that always came to him at the thought of Jeannie, at the mention of her name. But the pain and guilt that had torn him apart, that had ripped at his heart for so many years, was gone. Today, there was only sorrow and, for the first time in twelve years, Lee Kincaid felt at peace. Now, he could remember Jeannie—remember loving Jeannie Canaway—and smile.

  Lee got to his feet and extended his hand in farewell. "Thank you again, Edwin."

  "You're welcome, my boy," Edwin grasped Lee's hand once again and squeezed it hard. "Don't stay away so long next time. I'm here and you're always welcome. You're family, Lee, the only family I have left. It's time you accepted that. When Jeannie married you, you became my son. And she may have died, but you remained my son. Come back to see me, my boy. Bring your bride and your little girl."

  A look of astonishment appeared on Lee's face as he stared at his former father-in-law.

  Edwin opened his desk drawer once again, removed several papers, and handed them to Lee.

  Lee recognized the stationery. The Agency's logo, the "Pinkerton Eye," stared back at him.

  "Like I said," Edwin winked, "my friends keep me informed. I knew all about Tabitha Gray. And I'm looking forward to meeting Mary and Madeline."

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  "My name is Lee Gordon," Lee announced to the very proper British butler who opened the door to the late Senator Millen's Georgetown house two days later. "And I'm here to see Mrs. Millen."

  "Mrs. Millen isn't receiving visitors."