by C. A. Asbrey
“Great work. You can relax now. Clancy sent Mrs. France home. She’s prepared dinner and it’s keeping warm, so all you have to do now is let me know when you’re ready. He’s gone to the hotel. He’s having dinner there with his fiancée.”
Jake leaned back on the sofa, warming both hands on the cup. “I wondered why you were wanderin’ around in a frock again.”
“Do you need anything else?” She set the pot on the hearth.
“A hot bath wouldn’t go wrong.” Jake sighed.
“I’m way ahead of you. There’s one in the kitchen.”
Nat’s eyes gleamed. “Don’t toy with me, woman. I’d kill for a hot bath.”
“I’m not. There are pans of water on the range to freshen it too. Who’s going first?”
“Want to toss for it, Jake?”
The older man stood. “Nope, I know the tricks you play too well. I’m goin’ first.”
“How is that fair?” Nat protested.
“I’ve got a gun and you don’t have to see me use it. That’s as fair as you’re gonna get. You went first last time.” He stood. “Drink your coffee. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Nat turned back to Abigail. “The sheriff’s signed us as deputies. Me with a star. Can you believe it?”
“I can, actually. You’d have been a good lawman.”
His gaze dropped momentarily before the twinkle returned. “It’s a good thing he did, really. We were getting really low on funds. We were honest about it, and he paid us a day’s wage already.”
Her brow creased. “Why didn’t you tell me? I have money. I could have helped.”
“I don’t take money from women, Abi.”
“Huh?” She snorted. “You’ll take money from almost anyone. You’re famous for it. They write dime novels about it.”
He leaned forward. “No, I don’t. I take from railways and banks; places with insurance, and I’ve got a good reason for doing it, too. I never take from ordinary people. Not ever.”
“A good reason? I want to know more about that.” Abigail frowned at his vociferous tone. “But, fine. I apologize. Still, I could have helped. It’s not stealing if someone gives it to you.”
“Nope.” He shook his head, his tired face still ruggedly handsome after the exertions of the long day. “I don’t take money from women.”
“Not even a loan?”
“What part of my last sentence don’t you understand?”
“I’m not just any woman.” She stood and took the pot over to top off his coffee. “You’d take money from Jake.”
He held out his cup. “He’s my uncle. It’s not the same.”
“I’m your friend.” She put the pot back down by the fire.
His mouth firmed into a line. “No, you’re not. I’m not quite sure there’s a word for what you are, but friend doesn’t cover it. It’s not enough. There’s something about the idea that makes me feel hollow and lonesome. If the time or place was right, you’d be my whole world…but it ain’t. There’s a just a big, empty hole we pretend ain’t there.”
“Oh!” Her eyes rounded and she dropped into the nearest seat.
He drank deeply, staring at her over the rim of his cup. “You know that as a well as I do. It’s why you’re here. Now I’m left to wonder exactly why, because this damned case has gotten in the way. You had a long journey here from New York. You had weeks to decide what you wanted to say.” He arched a brow. “We’re alone now, so let’s have it. Talk, Abi.”
“I know. I—” She paused. “I wanted to come here and thank you for helping to save me yet again. I wanted to ask about the emotion they told me you showed. I wanted to say you matter. I wanted to tell you you’re unique and special. It all sounds so weak and stupid now.”
“Stupid? That doesn’t sound stupid.” His eyes danced with humor. “I am unique and special.”
“Surviving that bullet changed me. It makes me feel like I have to grab life by the throat and snatch at everything which mattered. You matter—more than I was prepared to admit.” She stood, wandering back and forth. “I wasn’t anything but a human being right after that incident. I was living in the moment. I wasn’t a Pinkerton, a daughter, or anything else. I was a woman who had nothing to do but follow my instincts. They brought me here. I didn’t know what I was going to do once I got here. I thought those blanks would somehow fill themselves.”
“So?” His brows met in a deep frown. “Why not be that woman?”
“It’s difficult.” Her shoulders sagged. “It’s a leap into the dark.”
“I’m here to catch you, darlin’. I’ll make it a real soft place for you to land.”
Her eyes closed slowly, before she gazed at the carpet. “It’s a big step. It’s throwing everything in my life away.”
“Yes.” His gaze gathered in intensity. “But you’re not doing it alone.”
“But where are we going? Where will we live? What will we do? I need answers. My past is full of death and emptiness, but I can’t step into a void. ”
“Death?”
Abi gazed into the flames of the fire for a few seconds before she spoke. “My father was…was murdered. It’s why I became a Pinkerton.” She met his eyes once more. “I’m not like other women. I’m independent and what the Scots call thrawn. It means stubborn and intractable, with a touch of absolute conviction. Men generally aren’t interested. I live in a world of isolation and disdain. I’m not looking for a man who can keep me or provide for me. I can do that for myself. I’m interested in a man who can meet me as a full partner and give me as much as I give him.”
His dark eyes glittered with temptation as he stood to face her, the room filling with unspoken passions and want. “And you’re here. Looking me in the eye. What do your instincts tell you now, Abi?”
“Yes, my instincts.” She bit into her lip tentatively. “They tell me to ask you—”
The door opened. “Right, the bath’s all yours. I put another pot on the stove for you so it’s good and hot now.” Jake strode into the room and tossed a towel at his nephew. At the pregnant silence, he looked around. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Nat sighed, the moment gone. “I’ll go bathe.”
♦◊♦
Jake stood at the door and buttoned his sheepskin coat. “I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?” asked Abigail.
He picked up his hat. “Out. The saloon.”
“Without me?” asked Nat.
“Definitely without you. You two need to talk, and this is the first chance you’ve had to be alone since she arrived in Pettigo. We’ve had dinner and the doc ain’t back. You carry on with whatever you were talkin’ about before I barged in.” He slipped his hat on and headed for the door. “I’ll be back about ten.”
She turned to Nat, who reclined on the sofa, one leg crossed at right angles over the other. “Did you tell him to do that?”
The lamplight made the auburn highlights in his brown hair glow brightly in a warm halo. “Nope. He knew. He’s real smart, but you’d have to be dumb as a box of hair not to realize he’d walked in on something.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Come. Sit. Talk to me.”
He watched her carefully, examining her as she steeled herself for the coming conversation. “There’s no need to be scared. You came here to do this, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but it was all easier in my head.”
Nat reached out a hand, his fingers curling around hers. “I knew something had hurt you, Abi. Hurt you so bad you didn’t care about your own life. Jake and I both saw that in you, we talked about it. Were you close to your pa?”
“Very close. My mother always said I was like him in a frock. We thought the same way. I miss him.” She nodded. “I suppose that’s true, too. Work was a diversion. I thought I’d found something I could throw myself into.” She turned to him. “Then you walked into that potato I was carrying in that railway station. What a way to meet.”
His cheeks dimpled. �
�Yeah, you don’t deny the moment we locked eyes now, huh?”
A smile twitched at her lips. “No. It was a kick from life, telling me to wake up and live.”
He nodded. “I denied you mattered, but you sat at the back of my mind, constantly coming up to bother me. You were the one thing I tried to escape the most, but you were the place I kept heading back to.”
“It was the same for me.” Her grasp tightened around his hand. “I put it aside, thinking it was only me who felt like that until Everlasting. Then…we couldn’t deny it anymore.” A tinkle of laughter escaped her lips. “Everlasting. What a name!”
“Yes,” Nat answered. “Perfect for the place to realize you lost the rest of your life before you had the sense to grab it. I thought you were dead and everything slipped away from me. I never thought of the future until fate rubbed my nose in a life without you.”
She sighed, turning to him. “Oh, Nat. What a mess. What can we do?”
“Do?” He leaned in inches from her face, his hot breath hitting her flesh. “We have another chance. We grab it with both hands.”
“And do what?” Her eyes glittered with inquiring intensely. “I still won’t be involved with a criminal. I won’t live life on the run.”
He reached out and stroked her cheek, his smile slipping so easily into the feral. “But you’d be so good at it.”
“I’m not joking, Nat. We both know there’s something deep here, but it’s not a relationship until we move things on. Falling in love is a big enough gamble as it is without making things more dangerous.”
He arched his brows, his face lighting. “Love? You love me?”
“One of us had to say it, and I’m no coward.” She tilted her head proactively. “You have all the missing pieces of my soul. The question is, do I complete the puzzle and accept them?”
“Oh, neither of us have a choice in that. It’s whether we learn to live with it or fight it.” He rolled a hand into her hair, threading it between his fingers as he grasped the back of her head and pulled her to him. His kiss was fierce, flooding her senses and causing the world to fall away beneath her. He pulled back staring straight into her with an honesty more frightening than his lies. “Which is it?”
Her brows met in consternation. “I just told you I love you. Is that all you have to say?”
The lights in his eyes danced, the way only his devilment could. “Abi…of course I love you. Haven’t I told you so in every breath since we met? Love isn’t only a word. It’s what we do.” His fingers trailed lazily over her cheeks and down to her neck. He brushed her earlobe with velvet lips, moving to her neck. Her head rolled back and her lips parted involuntarily as he toyed with sweet spot on her neck. He was playing with her, making her wait for the crashing crescendo to flood her senses. His mellifluous baritone floated in her ear. “Come with me, Abi. Let me show you more.”
His fingers interlaced with hers and he stood, pulling her to her feet, embracing her like a dancing partner. “Let me show how much I love you.”
She reached out and drew him into a sensual kiss, running her hands through his thick hair. His hand dropped to her hip, moving her inexorably toward the door. It settled there and pulled her close to his hard chest. She groaned, anticipating his next move. She slipped one foot behind his and pushed hard.
Surprise crowded his face as he tumbled backward onto the floor. “What the hell—”
Her generous lips tugged into her lopsided smile. “You think I’m going to fall into your bed? Think again, Mr. Quinn. If you want to show me love, you can think of a way out of this mess first. Do something to show you deserve me.”
He propped himself on his elbows, his brows gathering in a knot. The consternation was dispelled in an instant, quickly replaced by his trademark dimpled mischief. “You can’t blame a man for trying, Abi.” He clambered deftly to his feet, and arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t lie to you. You might not like the truths I tell you, but I’ll never lie.”
She sighed heavily. “You’ll excuse me if I reserve judgment on that? It’s not unreasonable to expect you to prove yourself. Not under the circumstances.”
They turned at the sound of the front door opening and someone walking along the hall. Clancy’s smiling face appeared at the door. “Good evening. Was your meal good?”
Both of them quickly slipped into a front of normality as though they had years of practice. “Wonderful, thanks. We’ve done the dishes and cleaned the kitchen for Mrs. France,” said Abigail.
“Jake’s gone out to the saloon. He said he’ll be back by ten,” Nat answered.
“Left you to clean up, did he?” Clancy chortled. “Maybe I could tempt you to a nightcap? Brandy anyone?”
“A drink? That sounds great.” Nat grinned.
“I could be tempted,” Abigail answered.
Nat dropped his voice to a whisper as Clancy walked over to the sideboard and lifted a bottle. “I’m counting on that, Abi.”
Chapter Fourteen
Clancy held the test tube which showed a clear, brown ring sitting in straw-colored liquid. “This shows it’s a nitrate. Now, let’s see what else is in there.” He took a metal implement with a thin loop of wire at the end and dipped it into a jar marked ‘Hydrochloric Acid’ then pushed the loop into the flame of a Bunsen burner. “Now. Let’s see what this does.” He dipped the wire back in the acid before dipping it into the granular salts. He then held it into flame. It flickered and flared a bright lilac before dissipating back to a normal flame again.
“It changed color,” said Nat.
“Yes. The color tells us which alkali metal is in here. This is potassium nitrate.”
Abigail frowned. “So? Where would we have potassium nitrate scattered all over the place?”
“It’s used in explosives and fertilizer. You can make it from clay, organic matter, or urine. It’s found naturally in the south of the county, but not so much here.” He scratched his head. “It’s valuable stuff, it must have come from a burst bag of fertilizer or something.”
“So a farm or a place where they make explosives?” Nat ventured. “Is there a place like that anywhere around here?”
“Explosives? No. Not anywhere I can think of.” Clancy looked at them in turn. “There are literally hundreds of places that use fertilizer. I guess that’s your job. I don’t envy you.”
“I guess it is,” Jake said. “The sheriff should know about explosives, or at least, know who to ask.”
“There’s one more obvious thing to follow up, too,” Abigail said. “His clothes were covered in brick dust and sawdust. There’s a brick works in town. They use straw and sawdust as packing materials to protect the bricks in barrels so they can be rolled by one man. At least, that’s what they do in Scotland. It’s easier than getting a block and tackle to move them like they would have to with packing cases. I suspect it’s the same here. That could account for two of the traces we found.”
“You sure know a lot about bricks, Abi,” said Jake with raised brows.
She shook her head. “The new buildings in Glasgow were being built when we moved there from the island. They were rebuilding the whole city. There were building sites everywhere. I watched them from our house when I was ill once. I used to be fascinated by the men rolling those huge barrels over ramps made of planks with almost no effort.” She shrugged. “I’m nosey.”
“No argument there.” Jake laughed.
“So, what’s the plan? You go and see the sheriff and I’ll go to the brick works? Abi’s supposed to be a boy, so she needs to go with one of us,” Nat said.
“You take her,” answered Jake. “She’s got a good eye. She might notice somethin’ there you wouldn’t.”
♦◊♦
The Cibecue Brick Works sat at the edge of town, near the spot where the river bent off into the trees. The edges of the confluence were set with gray boulders, softened occasionally by verdant fronds and the fizzing white lace of rushing water. The buildings were wooden, no more than s
loping barns, with the enormous, conical brick chimney of the kiln thrusting at least sixty feet into the air. The yard outside had long, snow-covered mounds and looked like stock had been piled ready for dispatch. Nat wore his deputy’s star, clearly visible, on the shearling coat which protected him from the biting cold, while Abigail’s disguise was bulked out by layers of jumpers and a borrowed blanket.
“Yeah? Can I help you?” The call came from a man in a bulky wool coat, with a scarf pulled over his hat and tied under his chin.
Nat raised his hand in a wave. “Hey, there. Who’s in charge?”
The man crunched his way over the freshly frozen snow. “That’s me, Oscar Janko. I’m the owner.” He frowned at the star. “The law? I don’t know you. How’d you get into town? We’re cut off.”
“Ben made me a deputy. I was got stuck here. He needed help when a body was found in the church hall, and I’ve been involved with the law before.” Nat’s creative instincts kicked in. “The name’s Nat.”
“So? What’s a body got to do with me?”
“We had the body examined. The clothes on the body were covered in brick dust and sawdust. We’re covering off the obvious. Nobody’s accusing anyone of anything.”
Janko’s eyes widened. “You’d better come on in.”
They followed him inside the nearest building buzzing with busy boys and men. At one end, boys slapped wet clay into wooden molds, and a little farther away, more adolescents turned them out when dried. Firing was an adult job, and the young men handed unfired bricks in a human chain to be stacked inside a huge brick structure with a domed roof, which culminated in the conical chimney they had seen from outside.
“Up here.” Janko indicated rickety steps which led to an office on stilts where the entire works could be overlooked at a glance.
They followed him to a little square wooden office. Two walls were covered in notices, invoices, and missives too dirty to read, while the other two sides were windows which afforded a perfect view of the factory. He planted himself in a filthy leather seat and kicked out at a chair. “The boy can have the box over there.” He frowned. “What’s he doing here, anyway?”
