To Know Her by Name (36 page)

She'd been on Ginny's back for close to two hours when she looked down and saw some food marks on the lap of her dress. They immediately made her think of McKay. She wanted to laugh, as she knew he would have had he been present. Chagrined, she slowly shook her head. It had taken all she had not to forget herself during the meal, but clearly she hadn't been as successful as she had believed. Her next thought took the smile from her face and melted her heart to tenderness.

“I wouldn't be a mess if I'd gone to Longmont,” she now told Ginny softly, the deep woods surrounding her. “McKay would have taken care of me. He would have wrapped a cloth around my neck and reminded me not to spill on my dress.”

It was at that moment that Pup knew she must be tired. If she had not had hours still to go she would have stopped Ginny on the spot and sat down for a long, hard cry.

30

Silver Plume

McKay and Trent Adams, an agent he worked with on occasion, left the horses tied to a bush and walked behind the old-timer they'd tracked down at the boardinghouse in Silver Plume. He'd been a talker from the moment they approached him, and he didn't seem to have anything better to do. The incline up the mountain was proving to be steeper than expected, but they'd taken the horses as far as they could go and now set out on foot. Jed Cawley, 60 if he was a day, had told them he knew where the mine was located. He'd even offered to take them. McKay knew it was going to cost him, but it would be well worth every cent if this lead panned out.

Trent's hat came off for an instant, and he sighed as he wiped at the sweat on his brow. McKay was equally warm, but he'd been with this case so long that his interest and enthusiasm to solve it made the sun on their backs and the exertion of the climb seem insignificant.

“There she is.” Cawley stopped and pointed. McKay noticed that the old miner didn't seem winded at all. “The William Tell.”

“That's the William Tell mine?” McKay questioned; he had to be sure.

The smile Jed gave was gap-toothed. “I could have told you you fellas would be disappointed, but I knew you wouldn't have believed me. Hasn't been worked for ten years or better. The valuable mines are located in Brown Gulch. Why, you can practically hear the machinery from here!” The old man, who did in fact have time on his hands, stopped when he saw he'd lost the men. Their eyes were on the mine's opening and then on each other.

McKay was the first to lead off, moving farther up the incline to the mouth of the mine. He stepped gingerly to the opening. It was dark, and Jed was certainly right: No one had been here, let alone worked the mine, for a long time. McKay was on the verge of stepping into the gloomy interior when he saw the sign. It was on the ground and half-covered by dirt and rock. McKay picked up the board. In faded letters, it read simply, “William Tell.”

“If you're thinking of buying, I'm sure someone will sell to you,” Jed offered, his voice rather gleeful, “but you fellas look smarter than that. Now down in the gulch, that's the place to invest.”

Trent had made the mistake of looking at the old man, so he rambled on for a time, but McKay wasn't listening. His mind was going over the things he had seen in Richard Stuart's bank—mining stocks in particular. Silver Plume was not what you'd call a stone's throw from Longmont or Denver, but this was the first mine listed in anyone's books to have been located within a reasonable traveling distance. The various mines and properties belonging to Duncan Phipps had been completely out of the area and sometimes out of the state. There were agents in those cities and states who could certainly check things out, but new assignments and the passing along of confidential information was not his job.

McKay looked back at Trent, who was listening to Jed with barely veiled tolerance. A few more checks in town, maybe with the old man himself, and they could head home and write up their report. McKay felt his heart swell with pleasure. Carlyle and even Nick were sure to be pleased.

Boulder

Wednesday did not begin well for Pup. She started, as she had the other mornings of the week, by beginning breakfast preparations and then reading in her borrowed Bible. This morning, however, she didn't reckon with the strips of bacon she left too close to the flames. Before she knew what was happening, she had a grease fire on her hands—not overly large, but a grease fire nevertheless. In trying to control things she lit a drying cloth on fire. The cabin was uninhabitable by the time she was through.

She knew she would have to clear things up and make some attempt to clean the black mess from the stove, but for now she picked up the Bible and went to the front porch. She didn't open the book but sat in the cool morning, the Bible on one side of her, her gun on the other.

She had read early that morning in the Psalms that God's creation alone declared His glory and the labor of His hands. Pup had long been fascinated with the workings of the forest and wildlife, but never had she thought about God's direct involvement and the way He ordained every leaf and twig. A tiny pinecone sat on the step near the toe of her boot. She picked it up and marveled anew at the miracle of it. The symmetry and smell of the cone intrigued her. She loved the smell of the pines, but never had she given God the credit and glory for their design and aroma.

I've been so blind, Lord,
her heart now cried.
I don't want to be blind anymore. I want to see things as they are. I want You to be real to me. I know that my understanding has been childlike and I know You understand that things take time, but I want to know more. This limit inside of me feels stifling. Show me, Lord, please show more of Yourself and Your Word to me.

For a moment her mind shifted to the Bible study that would take place the next night. She didn't know how she could work things to go down for that and be at church as well. Her head now tipped back and she looked at the woods around her.

Would You ask me to leave this cabin, Lord? Maybe take a place in town so I could be closer to others who believe in You?

She sighed, her mind running with questions. Was there any way to know if she should move? And if she did that, how would she come and go to work and still retain a low profile? Should she even continue her work for the treasury? McKay did it, but even he would be forced to admit that being sent on jobs broke up the continuity of one's life.

In the rush of emotions assailing her, Pup forced herself to stay calm. She told herself that God would not want her to pack her things immediately. It would be great to be at Bible study, but for right now she might have to make a choice. Her choice, at least for this week, was to be in church on Sundays.

She knew a peace then, but she was so deep in thought that someone had come nearly around in front of the house before she heard him. Her hand landed on the barrel of her gun just before Percy stepped into view. Pup had to stop her brows from rising at the sight of him. He stood uncomfortably for so long that Pup finally greeted him.

“Hello, Percy.” Her voice was kind.

“Hello, Pup. I thought I smelled smoke.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged as she explained, “I burned some meat. It's all over now, but the cabin is a mess.”

Percy just stared at her, and Pup thought she understood.

“The Bible is fine,” she assured him softly. “It wasn't anywhere near the fire.”

To her surprise he shrugged as if he didn't care. What Pup couldn't have known about was the big fight he'd had with his brother the day before. Percy knew it was his fault, but at the time the loaning of their mother's Bible was still eating at him. He told Mud he had expected to have it back by now and was headed down to demand it from their neighbor. Mud was so angry that Percy didn't recognize him. He thought Mud was going to strike him—something he'd never done, not even as a child. Instead his brother had yelled.

“Don't you see that she needs that Bible right now, Percy? What kind of inhuman fool are you? Her brother's been dead only a few months. Leave her and the Bible alone!”

“Her brother's dead?” Percy had questioned in surprise.

“I told you!” Mud had snapped at him, his patience gone.

“You did not. You said she had some shot-up man she was seeing to and might need your help. You never said anything about her brother dying.”

The fight raged on for Mud, who continued to yell at his sibling, but Percy had lost all spunk. He felt awful for not having told Pup of his sympathy. Mud had taken off for town; indeed, he wasn't home yet.

“I'm not worried about the Bible,” he now admitted to Pup. “I just thought I'd better check into the smoke.”

“Thank you,” Pup said quietly, but her mouth nearly dropped with surprise. She changed the subject. “Mud in town?” she asked.

“Yes. He went down last night. I expect he'll be back soon.”

“Do you want me to tell him you're looking for him?”

“No,” he shook his head. “If you see him, though, and there's any questions, you can tell him I said you should keep the Bible for as long as you need it.”

“All right. Thank you, Percy. I appreciate that.”

“I've got to get home.”

“I'm glad you stopped by.”

He raised a hand in a wave and turned from her, but he didn't move off. With his back to Pup and the cabin, he said, “I'm sorry about your brother, Pup. I didn't realize until yesterday.”

“Thank you, Percy,” she said again, and this time her visitor did walk away. He didn't speak or wave again but ambled quietly off through the trees. Pup pondered his visit for quite some time before she moved inside to clean up the kitchen. As she cleaned, the scene with Percy played over and over again in her mind.

I can keep the Bible for as long as I need. Imagine that, Lord.
She was just finishing the work on the stove when she realized she desperately wanted to tell McKay about what had just happened. For a moment she missed him terribly. She shook off her mood, put some coffee on to boil, and found pencil and paper.

Denver

“It was abandoned,” Carlyle stated, trying to assimilate the facts.

“Yes,” McKay told him, “and not just last week. It's been vacant for years.”

“And how many stocks have been sold?”

McKay stated a small amount, and he could tell that his superiors didn't understand why he was so excited.

“Have you contacted any of these stockholders?” Carlyle asked next, his tone telling McKay that this did not sound relevant.

“No, I didn't want to do that before I spoke with you.”

“But you do think it ties in?” This came from Nick, his voice skeptical.

“As a matter of fact, sir, I don't. At least not directly.”

Both men looked surprised, so McKay went on.

“I do think, however, that this is going to be Phipps' downfall.”

“But this is Richard Stuart's mine,” Carlyle reminded him.