Undercover Bride (25 page)

For several moments all she could do was stare.
God, no!
She’d wanted so much to believe in Garrett’s innocence. The moment she had waited for—prayed for, worked for—now felt like a nightmare. The case that had stifled Pinkerton operatives for two years had now been solved. But at what cost? Dear God, at what cost?

Not wanting Elise to think she’d done something wrong, Maggie took hold of her small hand. No matter her feelings, no matter how much it hurt, she had a job to do. Interrogating a witness came easy to her, but never had she questioned one so young.

“Did you and Toby give money to help build the new school?” she asked, keeping her tone soft and voice gentle.

Elise nodded. “Our teacher said if they didn’t build a new school she’d have to go back to Boston, and that made her sad.”

Anxious to return to his mechanical horse and completely unaware that his life was about to take an alarming turn, Toby scooted back to his corner on hands and knees.

“What about the beggar?” Maggie asked, forcing a light tone. “Did you give him money, too?”

Again Elise nodded. “You said God wants us to help others.”

“He does,” Maggie assured her. “I guess that means you helped Linc.”

“Uh-huh.” Elise scratched her side. “Toby said we can only give money to people who need it. We can’t spend it on ourselves.”

Maggie released the small hand. “That’s… that’s good.”

All the pieces fell into place, including the sudden and puzzling appearance of stolen money.

She reached for a packet of greenbacks, but Elise pushed her hand away. “You can’t have any. It’s not ours.”

“It’s not?” she asked, feigning surprise. “Well, then whose money is it?”

“It’s Pa’s,” Toby called with a pound of his hammer. “The money belongs to Pa.”

Elise fiddled with the clasp. “And he don’t want anyone to know about it.”

N
ormally Maggie would have gone straight to the sheriff after discovering the stolen money, but nothing was normal about this case. Her first thought was for the children. After thinking it over, she hustled them back to the house and, keeping up a stream of mindless chatter so they wouldn’t think anything was wrong, she tossed their clothes into a carpetbag and discreetly packed her own.

She threw the last of the carpetbags into the back of the rig and ordered the children to take their seats.

She climbed into the driver’s seat. “Toby, hold on to Whitewash. Don’t let him get away.”

The children had such somber expressions she asked lightly, “What do elephants and trains have in common?”

“I give up,” Elise said.

“They both carry trunks.”

“Are we going on a train?” Toby asked.

“Not today,” she said, releasing the brake and giving the reins a shake.

A half hour later, she pulled up in front of Aunt Hetty’s house. The still-brown sky turned the setting sun to a dull bronze color. The windstorm had ended, leaving behind only an intermittent gust that fanned her fevered brow but did nothing to settle her nerves.

“Why do we have to stay here?” Elise asked.

“It will just be for a short while,” Maggie said.

“But why can’t we stay with you and Pa?”

“They want to be alone so they can kiss,” Toby said from the backseat.

The boy’s comment was followed by an echo from the past.
“I believe it’s traditional for a man and woman to seal a moment like this with a kiss.”

Giving her head a shake, she clamped down on her thoughts. No matter how much she wished things were different, she could no longer deny the evidence against him. Allan Pinkerton had been right all along. Garrett Thomas was a thief and very possibly a killer.

She yanked on the wagon brake, but putting a brake on the memory of being in Garrett’s arms was harder. Harder still was forgetting the memory of dancing with him.

“I’m scared,” Elise said.

Maggie’s control began to slip. “Why are you scared?” She’d tried hard not to let on that anything was wrong but had apparently failed.

Elise’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know.”

Maggie took the trembling child in her arms. She had every reason to be scared; they all did. “I want you to be a good girl for Aunt Hetty and to be brave.”

Elise knuckled the tears away with both hands. “What does brave mean?”

Toby scrambled out of his seat and ran up the path to the door with Whitewash at his heels. “It means not telling anyone you’re afraid.”

Maggie retied the ribbon on Elise’s braid. “Actually, it’s okay to say you’re afraid. It’s even better to tell God. Remember how I taught you to talk to Him?”

Elise nodded, and Maggie kissed her on the forehead. “Come along. Last one to the door is a purple frog.” Her ploy worked because Elise scrambled out of the wagon and ran ahead of Maggie, laughing.

Maggie sighed. What she wouldn’t give for the resilience of a child and the ability to go from tears to laughter as easily as the wind changed directions.

Aunt Hetty came to the door in robe and slippers and looked surprised to see them. “I’m so glad you came.” She checked that both children were healthy and not harboring any diseases before letting them inside.

“You can’t be too careful with all this wind,” she said. “What brings you here on a day like this?”

“I have business to take care of.” Maggie tried to smooth down Toby’s cowlick, but only so she didn’t have to look the older woman in the eyes. “I wonder if you’d mind watching the children for a day or two.” It would be for much longer. The children might even have to stay there permanently, but she didn’t want to say that. Not yet.

Aunt Hetty’s eyes bored into her. “Is everything all right?”

“Pa and Miss Taylor just want to kiss,” Elise said.

“Oh.” And after thinking about this for a moment, Aunt Hetty repeated herself, this time with more meaning. “
Oh!
” She lowered her voice. “You and Garrett promised to wait until
after
the wedding.”

“It’s not what you think,” Maggie said, blushing. “We… uh… just want to talk.” She hated lying to his aunt, but she didn’t want to upset the children.

“I see,” Aunt Hetty said, though it was obvious by her dubious expression that she knew something was afoot. “It’s actually a good thing you came. Would you mind mailing your wedding invitations? I don’t dare go outside.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “All that dust from the wind.”

Maggie glanced at the stack of envelopes on the table by the door, and her already low spirits fell another notch. It looked as if the whole town had made it onto the guest list.

“All you have to do is drop them off at the post office,” Aunt Hetty added.

“Yes, all right.” Maggie turned to the children. “Be good for Aunt Hetty, and don’t give her any trouble. And Toby, stay away from matches.” Resisting the urge to take both of them in her arms and hold them tight, she rushed to the door before tears threatened to give her away.

“Don’t forget the invitations,” Aunt Hetty called.

Maggie grabbed the stack of envelopes and raced outside.

Garrett was anxious to close up shop and go home to his family. The thought made him smile.

Following Katherine’s death, he never thought he’d be happy again. Never thought it possible. How lucky can a man get?

Maggie.

Just thinking her name made him want to jump with joy. He never believed that God had a plan for his life, but it sure was beginning to look that way.

In little more than two weeks they would be husband and wife. Two weeks would be the beginning of a whole new life. Wait till she saw what he planned for their honeymoon.

Counting the minutes until he saw her again, he focused on the task at hand. The sooner he finished this order, the sooner he could leave.

Fort Verde wanted three dozen tin drinking cups, and he had only one more left to make to complete the order. Apparently tracking Apaches was hard on utensils as it was the second such order this year.

His apprentice thought making cups a bore. Panhandle much preferred working on more intricate pieces. That’s because he was never deprived of a cup or fork or spoon or plate. A cup—a crudely made cup chiseled out of rotting wood—helped restore human dignity. Nothing boring about it.

The year spent in Andersonville sure did teach him to appreciate the simple things in life, that’s for sure.

Whistling to himself, he shaped the tin on a bar holder and grooved the seam on the Roys & Wilcox grooving machine. Next he turned the lip on the turning machine. He held the cup up to the light, and satisfied, he snipped off a piece of wire.

The wire made the lip stronger; it also prevented a user from cutting his or her mouth. Stepping over to the wiring machine, he set the tin tube on a roller.

The jingling bells announced a customer. Pulling away from his workbench, he walked out to the shop and halted in the doorway. The last person he expected to see this time of day was Maggie.

T
he shop was empty when Maggie walked in. It was almost closing time.

Neither the sheriff nor Rikker wanted her to face Garrett alone, but she insisted. She owed him that much.

Stepping from his workshop in back, his face lit up at seeing her. Even now, his smile affected her. She tried staying cold and emotionless but failed miserably. Her lower lip quivered and a lump settled in her throat. Even now that she was certain of his guilt, her pulse leaped at the sight of him.

His smile faded a little, and a shadow of worry touched his forehead. “You’re in town late,” he said. “Everything okay? The children?”

She nodded. “They’re with Aunt Hetty. I… I had some things to take care of.”

“I see.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe she won’t mind keeping them for a while longer. We can have supper at the hotel. It will give us a chance to talk. I planned to show you this tonight, but since you’re here…” He reached for a leaflet on the counter.

She stared at it a moment before taking it from him. “What is this?”

“Flagstaff.”

She looked up, and his grin widened. “There isn’t much there, but they have a halfway decent hotel, and it’s only a couple of hours away from the most magnificent natural site you’ve ever seen. They used to call it the Big Canyon, but now they call it the Grand. I thought it would make a perfect place to spend our honeymoon.”

The flyer slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.

He glanced at the leaflet. “We don’t have to go there if you don’t want.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?” A worried look crossed his face. He cupped her elbow. “Maggie? What’s wrong? Tell me.” He released her arm. “Your family? Have they lost the farm?”

She stared at him in confusion. What family? What farm? Her mind was in such a muddle it took her a moment to remember yet another lie she’d told. She shook her head.
Oh, God, help me. This is so hard.

She yanked the ring off her finger and held it out to him. He made no effort to take it from her, but the eyes staring back were dark as night. “What’s going on?”

“Take it!” she pleaded. “Take it.”

His mouth in a straight line, he took the ring and stared at it a moment before lifting his eyes to hers. “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“I’m not who you think I am.” Her voice wavered, and forming the words felt like spitting out rocks. “My name isn’t Maggie Taylor.” She faltered but kept going. “It’s Maggie Cartwright.”

He shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?”

Before she could answer, the door flew open and Sheriff Summerhay walked in, followed by Rikker.

“I’ll take it from here,” Summerhay said, striding up to Garrett. He reached for the handcuffs hooked to his belt. “Garrett Thomas, I’m arresting you for robbery and the murder of one Joseph A. Beckett.”

Color drained from Garrett’s face. He looked like a man who’d just been shot. “What are you talking about? Robbery? Murder? I don’t even know anyone named Beckett.”

The sheriff scoffed. “Not much you don’t. He’s the guard killed during the Whistle-Stop robbery.”

“The Whis—” A look of disbelief crossed Garrett’s face. “Surely you don’t think that I had anything to do with that.” His earnest eyes sought hers. “Maggie? What’s this about? How could you think—?”

She wanted to die. She’d insisted on being present at his arrest, but now she knew what a mistake that was. Rikker had tried to talk her out of it. She should have listened.

Summerhay answered for her. “Case you don’t know it, the lady’s a Pink.” He chuckled. “Don’t that beat all? A woman detective, of all things?” He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it himself.

Garrett stared at her in astonishment. “Maggie?” His voice broke. “Is this true?”

She nodded and struggled to find her voice. “I was sent here to investigate the train robbery.” She pulled her metal shield from the waistline of her skirt and held it up for him to see. She indicated Rikker. “This is my partner, Mr. Greenwood.”

Garrett glanced at Rikker before turning back to her, incredulous. “I don’t understand. None of this makes sense.”