An Agent for Alexina

by Laura Beers

  A short, red-haired young woman answered it. “May I help you?” she asked in a kind voice.

  “I have a meeting with Mr. Gordon, ma’am,” he announced, tipping his hat toward her.

  “Of course,” she said, opening the door wide. “May I get your name?”

  “Dawson Wayne.”

  She smiled. “Mr. Wayne. I should have known. My name is Marianne, and I am Mr. Gordon’s assistant.” She turned toward the hall and beckoned him to follow her. “Your partner just arrived. She’s in with Archie as we speak.”

  His steps faltered at that unexpected news. “My partner is a woman?”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she asked, “Were you expecting something different, Mr. Wayne?”

  “I tend to work alone,” he admitted as she came to a stop at a closed door.

  Marianne laughed. “Don’t we all.” She opened the door and announced, “Mr. Wayne just arrived.”

  “Send him in,” a man’s voice instructed from inside.

  Marianne gestured toward the door and smiled. When he passed by her, she whispered, “Good luck.”

  Taking off his hat, Dawson ducked under the low door frame and entered the room. A red-headed man stood behind the desk, and a beautiful woman with dark brown hair was standing next to the window, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her tall, slender frame enhanced by the alluring tightly fitted bodice that highlighted her thin waist.

  “Thank you for coming so soon, Mr. Wayne,” the man behind the desk said, drawing back his attention.

  “It was my privilege, sir.”

  The man tipped his head approvingly. “I’m Archie Gordon, and I run the Denver office.”

  Twisting the hat in his hands, Dawson replied, “Thank you for hiring me. I’m anxious for my first assignment so I may prove myself as an agent.”

  “Excellent,” Archie said, pointing toward two chairs. “Please have a seat, and I can explain your first case.” He looked expectantly at the woman. “Would you care to join us, Miss Kimball?”

  She gave him a weak smile. “I suppose I must.”

  The men watched as Miss Kimball moved toward a chair and gracefully sat down, despite her high bustle. Once she was seated, they sat, as well.

  “Allow me to get the introductions out of the way,” Archie said. “Miss Alexina Kimball, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Dawson Wayne.”

  They turned toward each other and tipped their heads in acknowledgement.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Dawson acknowledged, feeling a need to crack through Miss Kimball’s stony demeanor.

  “Likewise,” she muttered, her voice tight.

  “This is a rather intriguing case,” Archie declared, reaching for a file. “The mayor of Hidden Ditch, Kansas, sent an urgent wire, pleading for us to dispatch Pinkerton agents there. He’s even agreed to pay an additional fee for prompt service.”

  “Hidden Ditch is a small town. I’ve seen it from a train window while traveling through on assignment. It doesn’t even have a proper train station,” Alexina shared.

  Archie opened the file and laid it down in front of him. “The Kansas Pacific Railway built a water station in Hidden Ditch, and then purchased the site under the Homestead Act. Two years later, in 1871, a post office was opened, and that was followed by a depot, a hotel, and a few shops. The first church opened later that year and the school opened five months ago.”

  He looked up from the file. “Hidden Ditch is a cowtown, serving as a shipping point for cattle herds from the south.” He grimaced before adding, “It is also a sundown town.”

  “How distasteful,” Alexina murmured.

  Dawson spoke up. “What’s a ‘sundown town’?”

  “It’s a place where blacks are not welcome after dark,” Archie explained.

  “I see.”

  Removing a paper from the file, Archie held it in his hand as his gaze landed on him. “If my memory serves me correctly, you were a schoolteacher before you became a deputy.”

  He bobbed his head. “I was. For two years.”

  “Good, good,” Archie muttered. “This assignment will require your background as a teacher.”

  “It will?” Dawson asked, not sure he’d heard correctly.

  Extending a paper toward Miss Kimball, Archie explained, “The school opened five months ago and already two female teachers have been abducted.”

  “Abducted?” Miss Kimball asked, scanning the paper that Archie had given her. “This paper states that both women were in their early twenties with lively personalities.” She lowered the paper to her lap. “How do we know that these women just didn’t run off to get married?”

  Archie picked up another paper from the file. “Next to the school is a small cottage, where the teacher lives. In both cases, there was a struggle in the cottage. The sheriff determined there was foul play and formed a posse to search for them.”

  “With no luck?” he asked.

  “None,” Archie responded. “That’s where you two come in.” He leveled his gaze at them. “The mayor has agreed to hire you both on as teachers. With any luck, Alexina can lure out the abductor with her feminine wiles, and you, Dawson, will be able to protect her, assuming the need arises.”

  “This assignment sounds simple enough,” Alexina declared. “I’d be happy to work this case alone.”

  “No,” Archie stated firmly. “You two will work this case as partners.”

  Alexina gave him a long, hard stare. “How exactly will the mayor explain the reason for two teachers at the school?”

  “Easily,” Archie said. “Mayor Sunders will explain that he hired a brother and sister teaching team because of the other two women’s abductions. You will be the interim teachers until a male teacher is hired.”

  Dawson frowned. “You want us to pretend to be brother and sister?” He glanced over at Alexina and admired her oval face, straight nose and white, flawless skin. Whereas, he had a square jaw, a slightly crooked nose and a darker complexion. “We don’t look anything like each other.”

  “No, you don’t,” Archie agreed. “But I am confident you two will create an appropriate back story.”

  Alexina huffed. “Why not just play the role of married teachers?”

  Leaning toward her, Dawson revealed, “Women aren’t allowed to teach if they’re married. It’s written in their contracts.”

  “That’s absurd,” she remarked.

  Dawson nodded. “I agree with you.”

  Alexina gave him a grateful smile, and he found himself distracted by her beautiful face. Why did his partner have to be an attractive woman? Why couldn’t he have been assigned to a snaggle-toothed old hag?

  “It’s already been decided that you two will work together as teachers until you find the missing women,” Archie stated matter-of-factly. “Mayor Sunders is concerned that the families of Hidden Ditch will move on to neighboring towns if we don’t reopen the school soon.”

  “If we are to pose as brother and sister, there’s no reason for us to get married,” Alexina surmised.

  “What?” Dawson shouted, turning toward her. “Why would we get married?”

  Alexina smirked. “I take it that you weren’t informed of that detail either.”

  “I was not,” he said, bringing his expectant gaze back to Archie.

  Archie threaded his fingers together and rested them on top of the desk. “Originally, this rule was created when a newly-hired female agent was paired with a more seasoned male agent. For propriety’s sake, we made them get married, but they could seek an annulment after the training was completed.” Archie pressed his lips together before adding, “Your situation is reversed, but I still feel it would be appropriate for you two agents to marry, considering the circumstances.”

  “Am I to understand that Miss Kimball is to train me as a Pinkerton agent?” Dawson asked in disbelief. A woman was going to train him on how to be a Pinkerton agent. That was the most insane thing he had heard all day.


  “You are correct,” Archie answered. “Miss Kimball has been an agent for ten years and was one of the top agents at the Chicago office.”

  Dawson rubbed his hand over his mouth in disbelief. “I’ve worked as a deputy for eight years and was even offered a position as the sheriff of Watersprout. Surely I don’t require a trainer.”

  “You do, at least on your first case,” Archie said, his tone brooking no argument.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Miss Kimball trying to hide a smile behind her gloved hand. At least, she found this humorous.

  Archie rose from his chair and extended Miss Kimball a thick file. “We’d better hurry and get you two married so you can catch the afternoon train. Hidden Ditch is just across the Kansas border and shouldn’t take you more than a few hours.”

  Holding the file in one hand, Miss Kimball used her other hand to pick up a worn carpetbag from the ground. “We should be able to wrap this case up quickly,” she said.

  “Allow me,” Dawson offered, reaching for the carpetbag.

  Miss Kimball reacted quickly and placed the carpetbag behind her. “I carry my own bags, Mr. Wayne.”

  He put his hands up in front of him. “I was just attempting to be a gentleman.”

  “Well, don’t be,” she replied curtly. “We’re partners on this case, not courting.”

  “I understand.”

  Stepping to the side, Dawson hadn’t thought anything could dampen his mood today. Apparently, he was wrong. Not only was he assigned a parsimonious woman partner, but they had to get married so she could train him.

  Unfortunately, he was forced to acknowledge that being a deputy had been much simpler, and it hadn’t required a wife.

  3

  Sitting in a jerky wagon, Alexina could feel the tension in her shoulders as they made their way toward the train depot. Perhaps remaining cold and aloof to her new partner wasn’t the most logical course of action. After all, she was required to train him and that did require a certain level of trust.

  She glanced over at her partner… er, her husband now. It wasn’t his fault that they were assigned to work together. If she had to be saddled with a husband, then she got rather lucky. Dawson was a remarkably handsome man. She’d immediately noticed the tall, muscular frame under his gray suit when he’d walked into Archie’s office.

  Dawson caught her gaze and gave her a curt nod before turning his attention back to the street.

  Feeling that the silence had gone on long enough, Alexina decided she should at least attempt to engage her partner in conversation.

  “Mr. Wayne,” she started slowly, “would you kindly tell me about yourself?”

  Adjusting the reins in his hands, he asked, “What exactly would you like to know?”

  She paused. What did she want to know about him? It would probably be best if they started from the beginning.

  “What was your childhood like?”

  “It was lovely,” he murmured, his face brightening. “It was filled with laughter and love.”

  “That sounds perfect,” she replied. “Are your parents still alive?”

  He nodded. “They live in Hope’s Landing, Colorado.”

  “Is your father a lawman as well?”

  Dawson gave her a sidelong glance. “He was. While I was growing up, he was the sheriff, and he would let me come into his office while he was working on paperwork. Hope’s Landing was a sleepy town without much crime.”

  “Are you an only child?”

  He chuckled. “Heavens, no. I have two older brothers and two younger sisters.”

  “That must have been nice,” she said with a wistful expression.

  “Growing up, I hated being the middle child,” he confessed, leaning back against the bench. “My brothers would tease me unmercifully, and my sisters wanted me to play dolls with them.”

  Alexina grinned. “That must have been awful for you,” she teased.

  “Finally, someone that recognizes my plight!” he declared, smiling. “My parents would always tell me that one day I would look back on those days with fondness.”

  “And do you?”

  He nodded. “Very much so, especially since my sister, Linda, died a few years ago.”

  “I am sorry for your loss,” she replied.

  “Thank you,” he said, meeting her gaze. “It was rather unexpected. She died during childbirth.” His eyes reflected sadness before he blinked away his emotions. “What about your childhood?”

  “Mine was lonely,” she admitted, turning her gaze toward the bustling street.

  “Lonely?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you care to expand upon that?”

  “Not really.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “For what purpose?” she asked, seeing no reason to share more than she needed to.

  Dawson huffed. “For what purpose?” he repeated. “It’s only fair since I answered your questions.”

  “Fine,” she agreed. “I was dropped off at the age of four at an orphanage in Springfield, Illinois. I have no parents or siblings.” She lifted her brow. “Happy?”

  “Not really,” he replied. “If you were only four, why weren’t you adopted?”

  “Because no one wanted me. I watched children come and go, but no family wanted me,” she shared, attempting to hide her growing bitterness.

  Dawson looked at her in disbelief. “Why would no one want to adopt you?”

  She shrugged. “At first, I thought it was because I wasn’t a boy. Lots of the farmers adopted boys of all ages.”

  “It sounds to me like the farmers wanted free labor.”

  “Most likely, but at least those children had a home to go to,” she said sadly. “After I turned twelve, I stopped caring about being adopted. I constantly ran away from the orphanage, but I was always caught and returned.” She glanced down at her hands as she admitted, “When I was sixteen, I was kicked out of the orphanage for what they described as ‘deplorable disobedience’, and I turned to a life of crime.”

  He looked over at her with an arched brow. “You were a criminal?”

  “I was a pickpocket,” she admitted proudly, “and a dang good one.”

  “How did a pickpocket become a Pinkerton agent?” he asked, frowning.

  “I made the mistake of picking Mr. Allen Pinkerton’s pocket.” She gave him a playful grin.

  “You stole from Mr. Pinkerton?” he asked, clearly not believing her.

  “I did,” she replied. “But I failed to notice that his female companion had observed me stealing his wallet.”

  “What did she do?”

  Alexina laughed lightly. “She followed me to the alley where I was living and offered me a job.”

  “As an agent?”

  “No, not at first,” she said with a shake of her head. “She would ask me to pick certain individuals’ pockets or have me search through their belongings. In return, she paid me generously for my work and even offered to let me use one of the guest bedrooms at her home.”

  “Was this woman a Pinkerton agent?”

  “She was.” She smirked. “It was Mrs. Kate Warne.”

  He looked over at her in amazement. “Let me get this straight. Mrs. Warne, one of the top Pinkerton agents, witnessed you picking Mr. Pinkerton’s pocket, and rather than turn you over to the authorities, she hired you?”

  “Yup,” she replied. “She was impressed because Mr. Pinkerton didn’t even realize his wallet had been stolen.”

  “Wow. Did you at least return the wallet to Mr. Pinkerton?”

  “I did, but Mrs. Warne let me keep some of the money for food.”

  Dawson pulled back on the reins in front of the train depot and set the brake before asking, “How long did you work for Mrs. Warne before you became an agent?”

  “A year and a half,” she answered, placing her hands on the side of the wagon and stepping down.

  Dawson huffed from the top of the wagon. “I really wish you would allow me to act
like a gentleman around you.”

  “No need,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt.

  Jumping down, Dawson came around to the back of the wagon and reached for her carpetbag. “I insist on carrying your bag.”

  She opened her mouth to object, but he added, “It’s common courtesy for a man to carry a woman’s bag.”

  Acknowledging the logic of his argument, she nodded her consent. “Thank you.”

  As they stepped onto the train platform, Alexina was surprised when Dawson placed his hand on her elbow to assist her. What surprised her the most, however, was how natural it felt to have him next to her.

  I must be lonelier than I thought, she admitted to herself.

  Dawson dropped his hand at the top of the platform and said, “I am going to get the train tickets.” He tilted his head toward an empty bench along the back of the platform. “Would you like to sit down and rest?”

  “I think I might,” she replied, touched by his thoughtfulness.

  “I am glad, Mrs. Wayne,” he drawled.

  She frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

  “Why not? It’s your name,” he paused, smiling, “at least, for the time being.”

  To her surprise, she returned his smile. “I suppose that is logical.”

  “I’ll be back shortly,” he said, tipping his hat toward her.

  She watched Dawson as he walked over to the ticket counter with two bags in his hands. She’d been partners with some difficult men over the years, but Dawson was nothing like any of them. He was a gentleman, and that was something she was unaccustomed to.

  She let out a sigh. What was wrong with her? When Dawson had started asking questions about her past, she’d confided in him, and she didn’t confide in anyone. She was a Pinkerton agent. Her job was to train Dawson, not become his friend.

  Following the conductor to their private car, Dawson tightened his grip on the two bags he was carrying. He was grateful that Alexina had finally agreed to let him carry her carpetbag. What a stubborn thing she was! His mother would have boxed his ears if she’d witnessed him letting Alexina carry her own bag to the wagon.

  The uniformed conductor stopped next to a door and pushed it open. “Here you go, sir, the May Bells car.”