An Agent for Alexina

by Laura Beers

  “Just go,” she muttered.

  To her surprise, he swooped in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for making breakfast, babykins.”

  Before she could react to his outlandish move, he smirked and headed for the door.

  What a bold, irritating man, Alexina thought as she stared at his retreating figure. Unconsciously, her hand rose to touch the cheek where he had kissed her.

  Standing inside the schoolhouse, Dawson tugged down on his black vest as his eyes took in the empty desks, chairs, and hooks on the walls. He’d enjoyed being a teacher, but it had lacked the excitement that he so desperately craved.

  Turning his attention toward Alexina who was standing next to the brick fireplace, he watched as she placed a hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she was nervous, which would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?

  He walked up next to her. “Are you nervous about teaching?”

  “No.”

  “You appear nervous.”

  “Do I?” she asked, her voice sounding shaky.

  “You do.”

  She bit her lower lip before admitting, “Yes, I’m nervous. Happy?”

  “May I ask why?”

  “No reason,” she responded, ducking her head as she went back to stirring the oatmeal hanging over the hearth.

  “I’ve only been a Pinkerton agent for two days now, but I feel as though you are keeping something from me, wife,” he prodded in a jesting tone.

  Alexina looked up at him, her eyes filled with vulnerability. “I’ve never been inside of a schoolhouse before.”

  “Never?”

  She shook her head.

  “What about at the orphanage?”

  “Education was not a top priority at the orphanage,” she replied with a dry laugh.

  He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Do you know how to read and write?”

  “Of course, I do,” she declared, frowning. “But I didn’t learn until I was nearly fourteen.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” he asked, remaining close.

  She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I can catch criminals, but I am terrified about teaching children. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “That’s your problem?” he asked with amusement in his tone.

  Alexina bobbed her head.

  He chuckled. “A woman that can remain calm around a mountain lion is afraid of teaching children?”

  “I should never have confided in you,” she huffed, moving to brush past him.

  He reached for her arm and held her in place. “Hold on now. I just find irony in it.”

  “Are you going to tease me relentlessly about this?” she asked, the hurt obvious in her tone.

  “No,” he said, turning to face her. “I’m going to help you become a phenomenal teacher.”

  She pressed her lips together, and he suspected that she still thought he was baiting her. Moving his hands to her shoulders, he leaned down to meet her gaze.

  “The most important thing about being a teacher,” he said, “is proving to them that you care. Be loving, but firm. Be kind, but not weak.”

  “I fear that you’re just spouting useless knowledge,” she replied with a timid smile.

  He returned her smile when genius struck. He had an idea! And it was brilliant.

  “I want you to teach each one of these children as if they were a Pinkerton agent recruit,” he ordered.

  “I thought you were supposed to be nice to children,” she said, furrowing her brow.

  “No, my dear. They will eat you alive if you show them any mercy.”

  He felt her square her shoulders. “I can do that.”

  “Excellent,” he replied, maintaining his gaze.

  Dawson found he rather liked being this close to Alexina. He saw a sprinkling of freckles on her right cheekbone that he’d never noticed before. Her vivid green eyes captivated him. In them, he saw secrets, and he wanted to discover each and every one of them.

  He must have been staring longer than he’d intended because he noticed a lovely blush creep across her face.

  A loud clearing of a throat could be heard from the doorway. “Mr. Wayne… Miss Wayne?”

  They jumped apart and both turned toward the door. A burly man in overalls stood at the door with his hand on a young boy’s shoulder.

  Alexina recovered first and walked closer to the child. “Hello, young man. What’s your name?”

  The boy immediately hid behind his father’s back.

  “I apologize for Timothy. He’s eight,” the dark-haired man said. “A couple weeks ago, he stopped speaking, and I haven’t figured out what has him so upset.”

  “Never fear,” Dawson stated, coming to stand next to Alexina. “We shall take care of our new recruit.”

  “Recruit?” the man mouthed.

  Taking a few steps closer, Alexina crouched down next to Timothy and whispered something in his ear. The boy looked at her in surprise before he nodded his head. Alexina put her hand out, and Timothy hesitantly slipped it into his.

  “That’s a good boy, Timothy,” she murmured as she led the boy over to a desk.

  The man’s brow lifted. “How in tarnation did you just do that?”

  Alexina smiled. “I just asked really nicely.” She glanced down at Timothy, and his lips twitched.

  “My name is William Barrow,” the man said, extending his hand to Dawson. “I’m the blacksmith in town.”

  Dawson shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. My sister and I are the interim teachers until a new teacher is hired.”

  Mr. Barrow’s eyes roamed over Alexina with interest. He lowered his voice to keep his next words private. “Would you mind if I asked your sister to have supper with me at the restaurant?”

  “Not at all, Mr. Barrow,” Dawson replied through gritted teeth. Why did the thought of her sharing a meal with this man irritate him?

  Luckily, a group of children chose that moment to run up the stairs and into the schoolhouse. They started filing past Mr. Barrow.

  “I’m afraid you will have to ask her after school,” Dawson said. “We are about to start.”

  With a parting glance at Alexina, Mr. Barrow gave him a curt nod. “I’ll pick Timothy up after school.”

  Once the door was shut behind the blacksmith, Dawson clapped his hands together.

  “My name is Mr. Wayne,” he said sternly when he had each student’s attention. “My sister, Miss Wayne, will also be assisting in the classroom.”

  He took a moment to count twelve children, of varying ages.

  “If you turn your attention toward the blackboard, we will begin today’s arithmetic lesson.”

  As he walked to the front of the room, it didn’t escape his notice that Alexina sat in a desk next to Timothy, and he was still holding her hand.

  6

  “And that is how to properly clean your sidearm,” Alexina declared from the front of the room. She placed her pistol on the desk. “Are there any questions?”

  A boy’s hand shot up. “How many guns do you have?”

  “On me?” She smiled smugly. “Or how many do I own?”

  “On you,” he replied eagerly.

  Picking up her pistol, she slid it back into the folds of her skirts. “I’m afraid that is a carefully guarded secret, young man.”

  Dawson clapped his hands from the back of the room. “And with that demonstration, class is now over. We shall see you all bright and early tomorrow.”

  Alexina watched as all the children stood up from their desks and started filing out of the schoolhouse. A young girl in pigtails and a pink dress ran up to her and tugged on her skirt.

  “Yes, Emma,” Alexina asked, immensely pleased that she remembered the girl’s name.

  The girl looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

  “I will be.”

  Stepping forward, the girl placed a hand to the side of her mouth a
nd whispered in a worried tone, “Don’t let the bad man get you.”

  “Do you know who the bad man is?” Alexina asked as she crouched down lower.

  “No, but the bad man likes teachers,” Emma expressed. “He’s already taken Miss Jolley and Miss Price.”

  “Do not fear,” Alexina replied, placing her right hand on Emma’s shoulder. “I can take care of myself. Besides, I have my brother to protect me.”

  Emma sighed in relief. “Good. I like having you as my teacher.” Her smile revealed a missing front tooth. “You’re fun.”

  As the girl walked out of the schoolhouse, Alexina found herself smiling. She had enjoyed teaching these children.

  Dawson came to stand next to her, and she detected his familiar scent of leather and musk.

  “When I asked if you wanted to teach a section, I meant history or arithmetic,” he teased jovially. “I didn’t expect a class on how to properly clean your sidearm.”

  “The children seemed to enjoy it.”

  “That they did.” He turned to face her with a playful gleam in his eye. “What are you going to teach them tomorrow? How to handcuff a suspect?”

  “Perhaps.” She shrugged. “Are you offering to be handcuffed?”

  Dawson shook his head in amusement. “Did you enjoy yourself today?”

  “I did,” she replied honestly. “These children are so trusting and kind.”

  “Young children usually are.”

  “Not in my experience,” she huffed. “By the time I was ten, I had learned how to pick locks.”

  He chuckled. “Your experience is slightly skewed from living in an orphanage.”

  A knock came from the back of the schoolhouse, and she saw Mr. Barrow standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He had changed out of his overalls, into a blue suit.

  Not again, she thought to herself. At least, he wasn’t offering her eggs.

  “May I speak to you for a moment, Miss Wayne?” Mr. Barrow asked.

  She smiled graciously at him. “Of course.”

  Mr. Barrow stepped further into the room, and his gaze kept darting toward Dawson. Rather than take the hint, Dawson walked over to the desk, sat down in the chair, and reached for a book. He opened the book and started reading. But Alexina was not fooled. He was blatantly eavesdropping.

  Stopping in front of her, Mr. Barrow extended her the flowers. “I… uh… wanted to thank you for being so kind to my Timothy today.”

  She accepted the flowers and brought them up to her nose to smell. “Thank you for the flowers, but no thanks are necessary for being kind to Timothy. He’s a charming young man, and I was just doing my job.”

  “Timothy really seems to be taken with you,” Mr. Barrow expressed.

  She placed the flowers on a desk. “He didn’t speak to me, but he followed directions and was a delight to have in class.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Mr. Barrow muttered. “Would you care to have supper with me tonight?”

  “I thank you for the kind offer, but I am not available this evening,” she said, shifting her gaze toward Dawson who was watching their interaction. When he saw her gaze, he ducked his head back down.

  “Tomorrow, then?” Mr. Barrow pressed.

  She brought her gaze back to Mr. Barrow’s eager expression. “Tomorrow would be fine.”

  A bright smile broke out on his weathered face. “That makes me immensely happy. Would you mind it terribly if Timothy joined us?”

  “Not at all. I would prefer it actually.”

  He stood there smiling at her for a long moment. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five, if that’s acceptable.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Mr. Barrow started backing up and ran into a desk, knocking it to the ground. “Sorry about that,” he murmured as he picked the desk up. “Until tomorrow, then.” He turned and left the room without another word.

  “He seems quite taken with you,” Dawson teased as he rose. “I almost feel bad for the guy.”

  “I wouldn’t. He could be our suspect.”

  Dawson came to stand next to her. “I highly doubt it. He seemed rather awkward when it came time to ask you to supper.”

  “Precisely,” she mused. “He might just find it easier to abduct women.”

  “You don’t believe that, do you?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “An agent must always stay objective. Sometimes the most unlikely person turns out to be the suspect.”

  “You are a rather cynical person, you know that?”

  Placing a hand on her hip, she gave him an annoyed look. “Why didn’t you step outside when Mr. Barrow was speaking to me?”

  “I was merely chaperoning.”

  She frowned. “I am twenty-eight years old, Dawson. I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “As a good brother, it’s my duty…”

  She spoke over him. “We are trying to catch someone who has abducted single women. No one is going to abduct a woman with an overprotective brother, who refuses to let her out of his sight.”

  “Point taken.” He put his hands in front of him as a show of surrender. “Would you like to go speak to the sheriff now?”

  “Yes, but we must proceed with caution. Not every lawman is honest and stouthearted,” she remarked, walking toward the rear of the schoolhouse.

  Stepping outside, she waited until Dawson locked the door before stepping down the few steps.

  “I have been meaning to ask,” Dawson said as he offered his arm, “what did you say to Timothy this morning to cause him to take a seat?”

  She waved her hand dismissively in front of her. “It was nothing, really. I just told him that I had two guns on me, a knife in my boot, and I was very proficient at killing the bad guys.”

  “You are rather a clever woman.”

  “I try to be,” she replied cheekily.

  Dawson chuckled. “The sheriff’s office is on the opposite side of town near the saloons.”

  “I remember.”

  He flexed his muscles under his suit. “Just know that I will protect you if the need arises.”

  Alexina rolled her eyes as they stepped up onto the boardwalk. “You are a very cocky man.”

  “Just stating the facts, babykins.”

  “How is it that you haven’t gotten married yet?” she asked boldly.

  She felt him go rigid, and he didn’t speak for a long moment. “I suppose I haven’t found the right woman yet.”

  Hearing the tenseness in his voice, she decided not to ask him anymore personal questions. Instead, her eyes started scanning the empty boardwalk until they landed on the post office. “Tomorrow, I will send a wire to tell Archie of our progress.”

  “Have we made any progress?” he asked, glancing over at her.

  “No, but we will.”

  He chuckled. “And you say that I am the cocky one.”

  Loud piano music caught her attention as it wafted from the open windows of the saloons. As they passed by The Busty Woman Saloon, a cowboy exited and blocked her path.

  The man’s brown hair was poking out of the sides of his Stenson, and his red shirt and tan trousers were horribly filthy. “Hey there… pretty lady,” he said, his speech slurred.

  Dawson stepped in front of her. “Let the lady pass.”

  The man’s hand moved to rest on his gun belt as he glared at Dawson. “I just want to speak to her.”

  “And I say no,” Dawson growled.

  “No man speaks for me, Brother,” Alexina declared, her fists clenched at her side. She stepped out from behind him and fixed her gaze on the cowboy. “Furthermore, I am not interested in speaking with you.”

  “Why not?” he asked, his eyes straying toward her chest.

  “Let me pass,” she warned, stepping closer to the man.

  “Only if you let me buy you supper,” the cowboy said, licking his bottom lip.

  “No,” she replied. “This is your last warning.”

  The man chuckled dryly as he tilte
d his hat back on his head. “You are a fiery little thing.” He took a step closer to her, so they were only an arm’s length apart. “But I must insist on supper.”

  Reaching out, she grabbed his shoulders, yanked him toward her, and kneed him in the stomach. She stepped back and watched as he collapsed to the ground. “And I must insist that you let me pass.”

  With a smug smile in Dawson’s direction, Alexina stepped off the boardwalk and proceeded to walk to the sheriff’s office… unescorted. She was more than capable of taking care of herself.

  Dawson hurried to catch up to Alexina as she stormed toward the sheriff’s office. He reached for the handle just before she did and opened the door for her.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as she brushed past him into the small one-room office. A jail cell ran the length of the back wall, and a desk was in the far corner. Wanted posters hung on the walls.

  A man with a long, curly mustache and a receding hairline glanced up from his desk. “May I help you, folks?”

  “Are you the sheriff?” Alexina asked politely.

  “I am, ma’am.” He leaned back in his seat. “I’m Sheriff Washburn. And you are?”

  Dawson stepped next to Alexina and provided the introductions. “My name is Dawson Wayne, and this is my sister, Alexina Wayne.”

  Rather than flirt with Alexina, as Dawson had been expecting, the sheriff gave them a curt nod. “How may I help you today?”

  Alexina spoke first. “We’re the interim teachers, and we have been hearing whispers about the former teachers being abducted.”

  “What exactly have you been told?” the sheriff asked in a cautious tone.

  “That the women were abducted by a bad man that likes teachers, and that they have disappeared without a trace,” Alexina shared in a shaky voice.

  “I see,” Sheriff Washburn muttered, glancing between them.

  “We also heard that you have no suspects at this time,” Dawson added.

  The sheriff leaned forward in his seat and grabbed a fountain pen. “May I ask a question of my own?”

  Alexina nodded.

  “How long have you been in town?”

  “We arrived yesterday,” Dawson replied.