Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (62 page)

After supper, Hiram excused her to her rooms, and the men left for the parlor to drink their after-dinner brandy. That was the time when business was discussed. Kate dashed up the stairs. She had to listen in on what was going on. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. She’d never done anything like what she was about to do.

In her bedchamber, Mary Jane unlaced the tight corset with swift jerky movements, and Kate inhaled a deep breath for the first time all day. How she had ever considered it normal to wear one of these contraptions, as Kyle would call it, she had no idea. There would come a time, she vowed, when she would toss each and every one she owned in the fireplace. Fresh tears threatened. Memories of Kyle surfaced everywhere.

“That’ll be all, Mary Jane. I’m rather exhausted. I’ll finish getting ready for bed myself.”

“As you wish, mistress,” the stern maid curtsied, an awkward movement from the tall and stiff woman. She pursed her lips, and shot one final glare at Kate, then turned and left the room.

Kate waited five minutes, and hastily donned her nightgown, then pulled on her robe, and tied the sash around her waist. Slowly, she opened the door to her room, and listened. All was quiet in the hall. She turned her head to the right once more. Satisfied that Mary Jane wasn’t lurking nearby, she tiptoed barefoot from her room, and headed for the staircase down the hall. If Hiram discovered her, she didn’t know what would happen, but it would be worth the risk. If anyone questioned her wanderings, she would simply explain she needed a drink of water from the kitchens.

Kate darted past the dining room, which was now unoccupied. From there, she headed into Hiram’s library, which was adjacent to the parlor. It was risky for her to be in this room. What if Hiram decided he needed something from there? She shrugged off her apprehension. She knew the air vents in the library were connected to those in the parlor. This was the best place to be if she wanted to overhear the men’s discussions. She had been in this room once before, and overheard some maids gossiping in the parlor. It would be easy in here to overhear someone.

Kate sank down in the corner of the library, behind Hiram’s large oak desk. If anyone looked in on this room, she would be well hidden. She inhaled deeply to calm her nerves. Kyle had called her a demure church mouse at one time. She smiled softly. What would he think of her now? She closed her eyes to ward off the fresh tears that threatened to spill.

“I hope there’s something I can find out here that will help your cause, Kyle,” she whispered. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened as men’s voices drifted from the other room.

“We have enough votes to impede the conservationists in their plan for a national park. You’re sure, Hiram, that the area is as valuable as you say?”

“I have been through the area. Commercialization is the way to go. We build hotels in strategic places within the area, along with some towns that will accommodate the railroad. With your votes in my favor, I guarantee you gentlemen will be millionaires within a year.” Hiram’s voice was loud and raspy.

“Let’s see your proposal, and guarantee for profit, Hiram. Then we’ll sign and pledge our votes.”

Papers rustled. If Hiram had forms for the senators to sign, he would surely bring them in here for safekeeping. The library was where he kept all his important papers. She had heard enough. Her husband was bribing members of Congress to vote against the park idea, so they could all gain financially from commercializing the area.

Quietly, Kate darted from her hiding place, and rushed back to her bedchambers. Her mind raced wildly as she slid under the covers of her bed. She was too keyed up to sleep, but just in case Mary Jane came to check on her one more time, she wanted to avoid an explanation as to why she was not in bed.

Staring at the ceiling, clutching her covers to her chest, she mulled over what she had heard. Kyle’s dreams could not end like this. She had to do something. She had no idea who the people were whom Kyle had been in contact with.  She remembered him talking about a geologist who had surveyed the area, and several other prominent men, but names eluded her. Somehow, she had to get hold of the evidence that proved her husband was engaged in these illegal schemes. Then she had to present the evidence to someone who would know what to do with it. Slowly, an idea began to form in her mind.

“I won’t fail you, Kyle. I’ll make sure your dream doesn’t die at the hands of my husband.” Kate closed her eyes, fresh tears escaping down her cheeks. Perhaps Kyle would visit her in her dreams, and for once it wouldn’t turn into a nightmare.

Chapter 30

Kate expelled her breath in a long sigh of relief.  Mary Jane had finally left her alone. She stood at her bedroom window, gazing out into the distance. Her husband’s stables, filled with fine thoroughbreds of the best breeding lines, offered a relaxing view in the distance. She loved to stroll the barns and talk to the horses. She missed Rosie, Kyle’s faithful mountain pony. None of the sleek animals in Hiram’s barn would ever be capable of traversing the Montana mountains like Rosie could. For starters, they didn’t have the calm disposition required of a sure-footed mountain horse.

She stepped away from the window, her heart racing. She thought about the plan that had formed in her mind since overhearing her husband and the senators’ schemes. It would have to be now or never. Kate had waited almost a week for an opportunity such as this. Hiram had left for a business meeting in Baltimore two days ago, one that would keep him out of town for the remainder of the week.  Mary Jane, her watchdog, had the afternoon off.

Last night, while everyone slept, she had snuck into Hiram’s library. It hadn’t taken long to find the papers she sought. She’d found them in a folder at the bottom of the top drawer in his desk. Hiram obviously wasn’t worried about anyone going through his things. She knew he kept a safe hidden in the library where all his valuables were stored. That anyone in his household would go searching for incriminating evidence to illegal schemes had obviously never entered his mind.

Kate had carefully removed the sheets of parchment, folded them up, and hidden them under her mattress. Mary Jane would surely not find them there. Wash day was a few days away, when the maid usually changed the bed sheets. Today was the day to implement the second part of her plan.  Pulling a shawl around her shoulders, she left her room, and hurried down the wide and sweeping staircase. She bypassed the front door, and headed for the kitchens. Delicious smells wafted to her nose, reminding her she had not eaten her afternoon meal. She shrugged it off. With her nerves on edge, she wouldn’t be able to swallow a bite.

She opened the door to the kitchen, and scanned the large galley. Two maids sat on stools, peeling potatoes, and the head cook stirred a long spoon in a large kettle over the stove.

Everyone looked up when she walked in. “Mrs. Devereaux, what a pleasant surprise.”  Winifred Rogers, the cook, wiped her hands on her apron, and looked at Kate expectantly. “Is there something we can get for you? Your dinner was not to your liking?”

Kate shook her head. “No, no. Everything is fine. Your culinary skills are to be commended, Winifred. I simple wanted to ask for some carrots. I wish to visit the stables, and the horses enjoy their treats.”

Mrs. Rogers’ eyes narrowed in a disapproving look, and she pursed her lips. Kate hadn’t meant to insult the woman with her request for kitchen fares for the horses. “I suppose we can spare a few,” she grumbled, waving her hand at one of the maids. The girl hurried off, returning moments later with a parcel of carrots. 

“Thank you. I much appreciate it,” Kate said with a smile on her face, and quickly left the kitchens. She’d come in to ask for carrots before, but never from the head cook. Obviously, the woman didn’t relinquish her ingredients willingly. She headed out the back door, and down the gravel path to the first of three barns. Horses snorted and nickered from their stalls. Heads popped over the doors one by one, and Kate made sure each animal received a tidbit. Smiling softly, she watched the animals. They were all beautiful to look at, but she held none of the fondness for any of them that she had for Rosie.

Kate lingered in the barn. She knew young Fred, one of the grooms, would be along shortly to make his afternoon rounds. A twinge of guilt nagged at her. She was well aware of the boy’s admiration for her. Often, she had seen him discretely glance her way when she visited the horses. She’d tried to engage him in conversation on a few occasions, but the shy youth had tripped all over his words. Today, she meant to take advantage of his infatuation with her.

She didn’t have long to wait. Stroking the soft black nose of the horse in the corner stall, she watched the youth enter the barn. He stopped when he saw her, surprise registering in his eyes. Kate quickly scanned his form. Yes, she’d been right. He couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen years old, and matched her in size, his body not yet filled out.

“Fred,” she smiled, and stepped away from the horse to face him. “How are you?”

Fred glanced over his shoulder, as if wondering if Kate had actually been addressing him, or someone behind him. “I . . . I’m fine, ma’am,” he stammered. Kate boldly walked up to him.

“I have a favor to ask, and I was hoping you could be of some help, Fred.”

“Me?” he pointed at his chest, his eyes growing large.

Kate nodded.  “I have an errand to run in town, and I don’t want anyone to know about it. Can you keep a secret, Fred?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered eagerly.

“You see, I am planning a surprise for my dear husband, and you know how maids are apt to talk if they get wind of such things. Gossip abounds, and I’m afraid if I make it known I need to go to Boston without a proper escort, Mr. Devereaux will find out, and the surprise will be spoiled.”

Fred’s youthful face grew serious, and his eyebrows furrowed. “How can I be of any help, Mrs. Devereaux?”

“Oh, please, call me Kate,” she said, flashing a wide smile. She waved her hand in the air dismissively. The boy’s face turned crimson.  She swallowed, and took a deep breath. She knew Danica Jensen would be proud of her with what she was about to do. “I need to borrow your clothes.”

Fred’s mouth dropped open. “Pardon me, ma’am?” he asked.

“Do you have a spare pair of britches, a shirt, and a hat perhaps?” she asked quickly. “Oh, and another set of boots?” The youth stared at her as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns and a tail. “I don’t want anyone to recognize me, and possibly tell Mr. Devereaux that they saw me in town. It would raise his suspicion, you see. I thought if I disguise myself, I could take care of what I need to do, and no one would ever know. I so want to surprise him.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Fred’s eyebrows rose, and his gaze traveled up and down her body. “Beg pardon, ma’am, but I don’t think you would pass for a man.” He turned quickly and stared at the ground, apparently embarrassed by what he’d just said.

Damn! Kate didn’t think it would be this difficult to convince him. She was wasting time if she wanted to get to the telegraph and Wells Fargo office today. Should she just abandon the idea of a disguise, and simply hope no one would recognize her?

She sighed dramatically. “Very well. I guess I’ll just take my chances, and hope no one sees me.” She turned to leave.

“Mrs. Devereaux . . . Kate, wait.”

She closed her eyes briefly, and smiled. Had she succeeded after all? Slowly, she turned to face the youth.

“All right. I’ll . . . I’ll be right back with some things,” he said, shaking his head.

“Thank you, Fred,” She reached out and touched him on the arm. “I’ll remember this. If you ever need a favor, don’t hesitate to ask.” He nodded, and hurried from the barn.

An hour later, Kate stood in the telegraph office in Boston, and handed the clerk the note she wished to send. She hoped the tremble in her hand would go unnoticed. The clothes Fred had brought her were too large, but a rope tied around the waistband kept the pants up, and she’d tucked the shirt loosely down the waist. At least it would disguise her feminine form. The man peered down at her over wire-rimmed spectacles. She quickly pulled the cap Fred had given her more firmly over her head, hoping her hair stayed tucked up underneath it.

“Montana Territory, eh?” The clerk said. “Got a cousin out that way. Tried to strike it rich in the gold fields some years back.”

Kate grunted, hoping she sounded convincing. She dared not speak. She had no interest in striking up a conversation with the clerk.

“Cat got your tongue, boy?” the clerk smiled. Kate merely shrugged, and dropped some money on the counter.

The clerk cleared his throat, and readjusted his spectacles on his nose. “Let me read this back to you, and make sure it’s right.” He held the paper in front of his face. “To Mr. Chase Russell, Virginia City, Montana Territory. Stop. I am sending important papers via overland post. Stop. Please advise proper authorities. Stop. Miss you all, especially Kyle. Stop. Kate. “ He peered up over the note. “Is that correct?”

Kate nodded. She wanted to send the telegraph, so that Chase would know to expect something in the mail. She deliberately kept her message short and vague. She had included a lengthy letter, explaining what she’d learned, with the documents she’d dropped off at the Wells Fargo office earlier. She hoped Chase or Samuel would know who to contact, and expose Hiram’s illegal activities. She’d expressed her deep sorrow at Kyle’s death and how much she loved him, and concluded with the hopes that she would see them all again some day. She hurried from the telegraph office. It was getting late, and she would surely be missed soon.

*****

Chase Russell strode into the kitchen, a broad smile on his face. He scanned the room, his eyes resting on his wife, who stood kneading bread dough at the counter. When Sarah looked up and met his eyes, he winked at her. “The package came today.”  He stood next to her and kissed her cheek, holding up a thick brown parcel. “From Kate,” he added as an unnecessary reminder. Sarah’s head turned quickly to look at the closed door that led to the living room.

“It came quicker than expected. I wonder what she could have possibly sent,” Sarah said.

“He’s not in the house, Angel.” Chase noticed the direction of Sarah’s gaze.  “He’s out with Sam, unloading that shipment of grain.”

“What?” Sarah’s eyes widened. “Why are you allowing him to lift heavy sacks of grain, Chase?”

“Stop babying him, Sarah.” Chase wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him. “He’s fine. A man’s gotta build his strength again sometime. His body’s healing. He needs the exercise.”

Sarah glared at him. “He got shot in the chest, Chase, and God only knows how he survived that wound. And need I remind you that the fall from the window broke both his legs, and his arm. It’s too soon for him to be doing heavy work.”

Chase kissed his wife. “He’s tired of lying around, Angel. He’s heading back east in a few weeks when those hearings in Congress begin, and to get his girl back. You had your chance to coddle him for more than two months.” He rubbed her arms reassuringly when she continued to frown at him.  “He’s a grown man, Angel. Let him regain his strength. He doesn’t want to show up on Kate’s doorstep as an invalid.”

Sarah nodded in defeat. Chase gently squeezed her arms. He eyed the parcel he’d thrown on the counter. “Should we open it, or give it to Kyle?” he asked with a grin. “It’s addressed to me, but somehow I think it belongs to our son.”

“Kate thinks he’s dead, Chase. What else could she think?  Without an address, we haven’t been able to contact her all this time.”

“It’s like Kyle said, Angel. Best not to send her a letter. Devereaux probably would have intercepted anything she receives. It’s better he thinks Kyle is dead.”

Sarah picked up the parcel, and stared at it. “Let’s take it to him. Anything from Kate will brighten him up.”

Chase followed his wife out of the kitchen and across the path to the depot. A wagon stood parked in front of the entry. Samuel pulled a heavy burlap sack from the back, and looked up. “You could come lend a hand,” he called.

“Be right there,” Chase called. “Where’s Kyle?”

The man in question emerged from inside the depot at that moment. He walked with a pronounced limp, his strides shorter than normal. Chase watched his son. The doctor had given him no chance at survival the day he got shot. He’d removed the bullet that had thankfully been stopped by a rib, or it would have hit his lung. That wound had healed faster than his broken bones. He’d been bed-ridden for over a month. With a broken humerus, his arm had been in a sling, making it impossible to move around on crutches. Chase and Samuel had built a wheelchair for him to move around in, which had also proven to be difficult.