Love in Disguise (7 page)

After two steps, she came to an abrupt halt. What was she thinking, marching along like a young woman when she was supposed to be a widow of mature years?

She glanced around to see if anyone had taken notice of her nimble movements. When she found no one paying her the slightest attention, she ducked her head slightly and moved forward again, this time at Lavinia’s more halting pace.

Better. Much better.
Ellie congratulated herself as she approached a man she took to be the station agent, who was taking the luggage handed to him by the driver and stacking it on the boardwalk.

He straightened and touched his hat as Ellie drew near. “Afternoon, ma’am. Which of this lot is yours?”

Ellie pointed out her trunk and the costume hamper, and the man separated them from the rest. “Want me to send it over to the hotel?”

Ellie spoke decisively, in her best Lavinia voice. “Not the hotel. I’m staying on in Pickford. I’ve made arrangements for a house here.”

The agent’s wiry eyebrows soared toward his hairline. He glanced around, taking in the other passengers. “Did your husband travel with you?”

“No, I came alone.” Ellie allowed her head to droop. “I’m a widow, you see.”

The station agent tugged at the brim of his hat. “Sorry to hear that, ma’am. Where’s your house? I’ll have your things taken there right away.”

“It’s on the corner of Charles and Second.” Ellie recited the location from memory, thankful that Fleming and Gates had assumed responsibility for arranging that detail and hadn’t left her to scout out lodging on her own.

The man brightened. “The Cooper place. I know it well. I’ll have the boys take your things right over and show you where it is.” He whistled, and two teenage boys appeared from the adjacent building.

A snippet of her briefing jogged Ellie’s memory. “I need to send a telegram first.”

“That’s no problem. They’ll deliver your luggage while you’re sending your wire.”

“But . . . I don’t have the key with me,” Ellie stammered. “I’m supposed to get it from the banker.”

“Don’t give it a second thought. I’ll send one of the boys to get it.” His rugged face softened at Ellie’s surprise. “I guess we do things a little different out here than you’re used to back east. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you.”

Such a casual way of doing things. Further confirmation, as if she had needed it, that she had left the East behind. Ellie swallowed back her astonishment and forced a smile. “Thank you, sir. That’s very kind of you.”

The interior of the telegraph office the agent pointed out to her appeared to be a duplicate of the one in Kansas City—small, dark, and manned by a clerk who looked as though he were half asleep. Ellie stepped up to the counter and cleared her throat. “I’d like to send a wire, please.”

The clerk yawned and scratched at his receding hairline before sliding a form and pencil over to her. “Here you are.” His mouth gaped in midyawn when he looked up.

Ellie nodded her thanks and gripped the pencil between her fingers. The Pinkertons had instructed her to have Norma wire the home office upon arrival so they would know their team of operatives was in place.

She had spent the three-day trip from Kansas City mulling over the wording of her message. The Pinkertons had surely heard about Norma’s hasty marriage by now, and she could only imagine the uproar when they learned their newest recruit had ventured off on a solo mission.

This message, therefore, would be crucial to her future. She needed to send a communication that would inspire confidence in the home office and assure them she was capable of handling the job on her own. Rather than launching into a lengthy explanation and pleas for forgiveness, she decided to opt for something brief and optimistic.

Using the coded phrases she’d worked out with Fleming and Gates prior to her departure, she began to write:

Arrived safely this afternoon. Will begin looking at investment possibilities straightaway.

Lavinia

She looked over what she had written and crossed out
this afternoon
. Chewing on her lower lip, she reviewed the message again. Yes, that ought to do it.

She smiled at the clerk, who was now staring at her with ill-concealed curiosity. Ellie could hardly blame him for his display of poor manners. Sitting in a backwater town with nothing to do but listen to the clacking of the telegraph key must make any departure from the norm a welcome distraction.

The telegrapher’s pale blue eyes lit up when Ellie met his gaze, and his lips parted to reveal several gaps in his teeth. “Just passing through, Miss . . . Miz . . . ?”

“It’s Mrs. Stewart. No, I’ll be staying here for a while. I need to let my cousin back in Chicago know I got here safe and sound.”

The gap-toothed grin widened. “Amos Crawford, at your service. Always happy to see a new face.” He leaned forward over the counter. “Especially when it’s one as pretty as yours.”

Ellie’s jaw sagged. Had he just complimented her looks? Of all the times she had yearned to hear flattery from some man’s lips, it finally came from someone old enough to be her father . . . or her grandfather. While she was made up as a woman of advancing years, no less.

Before she could formulate a suitable reply, he turned to pull a slip of yellow paper from one of the pigeonholes over his desk. “Stewart, did you say? This must be for you.”

Ellie glanced at the telegram he placed in her hand. Sure enough, it was addressed to Lavinia Stewart and/or Jessie Monroe. She unfolded the paper and read the brief message with a growing sense of dismay.

AWAITING NEWS OF SAFE ARRIVAL STOP WIRED FUNDS TO LOCAL BANK STOP ACCOUNT OPENED IN BOTH YOUR NAMES STOP

COUSIN HENRY

Both names? Ellie’s fingers lost their grip, and the paper fluttered to the floor. Apparently Norma hadn’t contacted the home office yet, and they weren’t aware of the change in her status.

The telegrapher scuttled around to scoop up the message and return it to her. “Sounds like your cousin’s worried about you two ladies traveling out here by yourselves.”

Ellie nodded, her mind racing. Of course, he had taken down the message. He knew two women were expected. Now what?

She crumpled the form she had just filled out and tucked the wad of paper inside her reticule. “Could I have another, please? I’m afraid I’ve made a mess of this one.”

Taking the new paper, she tried to collect her whirling thoughts sufficiently to compose a message that would give enough information without causing undue alarm.

Arrived safely. Jessie delayed. Will begin investigating opportunities straightaway.

Lavinia

It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best she could improvise at a moment’s notice.

She paid the fee and watched while the telegrapher tapped out the words. After the final click, she bade him good day and turned toward the exit. Just before she reached the door, she realized she had no idea where to go next.

Ellie turned back and pushed her spectacles higher on her nose. “Could you direct me to the Cooper place?”

“That where you’re staying?” The clerk nodded as if making a mental note. “Sure. When you leave here, turn left and follow Grant Street until you get to Second. Then turn right. After you cross Douglas, the next street you come to will be Charles. You can’t miss it, but if you’ll give me a second to put things to rights, I’d be glad to escort you.”

Ellie stifled a gasp. “No, thank you. I’m sure I’ll be able to find it on my own.”

As she turned to leave, he called out, “It’s kinda chilly out there. Are you going to be warm enough in just that light shawl?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.” Ellie ended the conversation by stepping out into the brilliant blue afternoon. Chilly? She shook her head. People in Arizona had no idea what cold was.

She followed the telegrapher’s directions, strolling west along Grant. After three days on the train and half a day spent jouncing along in the stagecoach, it felt marvelous to stretch her limbs, as much as Lavinia’s leg wrappings would allow.

For once, she appreciated the need to shorten her stride and take her time. The slower pace of an older woman gave ample opportunity to observe close at hand the terrain she had been viewing through the stagecoach windows. Everything, from the rough-cut lumber that made up buildings and boardwalks to the gray-green cactus studding the surrounding hills, seemed to warn her to keep her distance. And over everything lay a coating of dust.

With her mind distracted by the scene in front of her, Ellie’s heel caught on the uneven boardwalk, and she scrambled to get her footing. Disaster averted, she continued toward her house, reminding herself to quit gawking and keep a closer watch on where she was walking.

When she turned right off of Grant Street onto Second, her heart sank at the sight of a row of dwellings that looked as though they’d been slapped together from cast-off lumber and sheets of canvas. Lavinia and Jessie were supposed to be ladies of some substance. Surely the Pinkertons wouldn’t have chosen to house them in a hovel.

The next block featured somewhat larger shacks that appeared to be made of mud bricks.

Ellie shuddered. She had slept in some odd places during her travels with Magdalena but never in anything that resembled these decrepit dwellings. She stopped on the edge of the street, wondering if one of these was to be her new home. Unbidden tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision.

“Mrs. Stewart? Over here.”

Ellie blinked the tears away and looked ahead to see one of the delivery boys waving from the end of the street. Behind him stood a small white clapboard house with a neat shake roof. With as much haste as the leg wrappings would allow, Ellie closed the distance between them, arriving just as the second young man jumped off the front porch.

“This is the Cooper place? I mean, my new home?”

Both youths tipped their hats. “Yes, ma’am,” the taller one said. “I think you’ll be comfortable. I’m sure glad they found someone to live here. It’s too nice a house to have it just sit empty and—”

A scowl darkened his face. “Shoo!” he bellowed in the direction of a small lilac shrub under the front window. “Get out of there!”

Ellie clutched at her throat. What sort of creature was lurking there in the bushes?

The lilac swayed, and a skinny towheaded boy about ten years of age emerged. “What’s the matter? I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.”

“Nothing except peekin’ in the windows.” The delivery boy pointed toward a little wooden house across the road. “Get on home. And don’t be bothering Mrs. Stewart. She’s a lady, and she doesn’t need any pestering from you.”

The youngster puffed out his chest but decided to abandon his show of bravado when the delivery boy started after him. He scurried to the house across the street, where he took a wide stance and glared at them all.

Ellie’s protector shook his head. “Sorry about that, ma’am. That Taylor kid is always up to some kind of mischief. You’d better keep an eye out for him.”

Without missing a beat, he added, “We laid on a fire for you. All you have to do is light it.

Ellie shook her head and dug in her reticule to pull out a few coins for each one. Be it ever so humble, it appeared she was home.

7

E
llie took a deep breath and mounted the three steps to the porch that spanned the front of the house. Deep red curtains covered the windows, and a climbing rose twined its way up one of the porch supports. A pair of wooden rocking chairs invited her to sit and rest. Someone had obviously spent time and effort in making this place a home.

She bent over and plucked one of the rose leaves, still shiny and green even in the middle of winter. She tried to imagine sitting on the porch in the spring months, enjoying the desert breeze and the scent of rose blossoms. What color would they be?

She shook herself out of her reverie. If the investigation went as planned, she wouldn’t be around long enough to see the roses bloom.

The front door swung open with a slight creak of the hinges. Ellie stepped inside and couldn’t hold back a smile at the charming scene before her. The parlor took up half the width of the house, with good-sized windows on the west and south walls. She pulled the curtains back, letting sunlight spill into the room.

A small pedestal dining table divided the space between the kitchen and the parlor, where a tufted sofa sat in the center of an oval braided rug, flanked by a matching side chair on the right and an upholstered armchair on the left. A round marble-top table holding an ornate oil lamp separated the sofa and armchair. Ellie ran her fingertips over the delicate etching on the lamp’s cranberry glass globe, feeling a surge of delight. What a perfect dollhouse of a place.

Peering through the doorway that opened off the opposite side of the kitchen, she saw a neat bedroom, complete with walnut dressing table, matching wardrobe, and a cozy bed with an iron headboard painted white and ornamented with rosettes, vines, and leaves. Her trunk and the costume hamper stood at the foot of the bed. A quick glance into the remaining room to the left of the parlor showed her a smaller bedroom, furnished in similar fashion. A smile touched her lips. Lavinia and Jessie would each have their own room.

The house was set up just the way Ellie would have arranged a snug home of her own. The Pinkertons really did think of everything, and this was yet another indication of their efficiency.

Which meant they would expect her to be equally efficient in her efforts to identify the silver thieves.

Her elation faded as the thought brought her back to her purpose for being in Pickford. She had succeeded in her efforts to find a job to sustain her and escape the bitter Chicago winter. Now she must perform equally well in carrying out what she’d been hired to do.

But first . . .

Ellie darted toward the front of the house, slowing her steps as she opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. Those rocking chairs and the springlike temperatures were simply too inviting to pass up. Besides, in building a credible character, actions were just as important as appearance. It would be perfectly in character for Lavinia to sit and enjoy a few moments of quietude after her long journey.