An Agent for Clementine Page 5

  “My wife and I would like two rooms please. I’d like a bath sent up for her and a new gown please,” Jericho asked the middle-aged lady behind the counter. Her eyebrow arched knowingly and he was mortified to see her look over his shoulder at Clementine.

  “You okay, honey?” Maisie asked Clementine baldly. Her stark expression blushed beet-red with mortification at the implication that something illicit had happened between them.

  “Yes. My husband and I were thrown earlier, forcing us to walk all the way here. I’m just tired and filthy.”

  “Are you hungry too, little one?” he asked. Jericho felt a pang of guilt that burned his chest as Clementine’s eyes darted to him at his words. Her large brown eyes filled with tears as she nodded silently.

  “Can we get a meal for my little bride too?”

  “If you’ve got money, you can go on and head upstairs,” Maisie said gently. “Your wife is about to drop from exhaustion.”

  “I know,” he admitted. “So far I’ve been a pretty awful husband.”

  “No,” Clementine said softly behind him. “It’s just an awful situation we are stuck in.”

  Jericho knew what she meant by her words. No, he wasn’t her husband yet and she honestly thought it was a terrible mess they were trapped in by their families long ago. Maisie took her words different. Maisie’s weathered face split with a smile, thinking that Clementine was arguing that he was a good husband. Jericho felt like the lowest fool ever.

  “I’ll bring the meals up and hot water,” Maisie shooed, pushing two sets of keys in his hand. Jericho paid the woman and turned to Clementine to see her nodding off in the chair. Looking back at Maisie, he smiled tenderly.

  “How about we wait until morning for that bath and meal? I think she needs to sleep first,” he countered. At Maisie’s request, he waited just a second while she fetched a pitcher of water and a board with cheese. Maisie took the keys from Jericho and went up the stairs first, unlocking the door.

  Jericho scooped up Clementine’s worn body in his arms and felt his heart swell in his chest. He should be carrying her like this on their wedding night, not after a train derailment. He was just glad that she was alive and well to have this moment with her. She lay her bedraggled head against his chest and didn’t even fight him.

  At the top of the stairs, he carried her into the bare room and lay her gently on the bed. Clementine barely stirred. He unbuttoned her boots and slipped them off, covering her lightly with a blanket. Maisie stepped around him, setting the pitcher and tray on a small table nearby.

  “Thank you for everything,” he whispered, afraid to wake Clementine.

  “Of course,” Maisie said gently with a note of wistfulness in her eyes. Jericho knew then that her husband had passed away. “My Edward used to look at me the same way- how could I not let you take care of her when you two remind me of us?”

  “How long were you married?”

  “Twenty-three blissful years.”

  “I hope to have double that with my bride,” he admitted honestly.

  “I wish you both the best,” Maisie agreed with a nod. “I’ll send everything else up at daybreak.”

  8

  Clementine awoke sore and stiff the next morning to a rapping at the door. She was so exhausted and whoever it was could just wait.

  “Mother, I’ll be down in a bit,” she muttered aloud, shoving the pillow into just the right position under her cheek.

  “It’s not your mother, kitten,” she heard a deep voice respond and sat up immediately looking around. The hotel! The train! Flashback of memory ran through her mind, replaying everything. Jericho was at the door… and where were her boots?

  “You can’t come in,” she called out.

  “Maisie brought you breakfast and a bath, sweetie – unless you’d rather I went first in the bath?”

  Clementine could practically hear the taunting in his overly polite voice. She wasn’t going to let him have the hot bath. That would force her to wallow in lukewarm or cool bathwater. No, she wanted the steaming warmth to ease her aching body.

  Padding across the room in her stockings, she yanked open the door to see Jericho and the woman from last night. She assumed this must be Maisie. Jericho was carrying a large empty tin bathtub and Maisie had in her arms two large plates piled with food. Stepping back, she allowed the two of them into the tiny hotel room. Jericho sat down the tin tub and was quickly followed by a few girls carrying large pails of steaming water. Pulling the table away from the wall, Jericho took the plates from Maisie and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  “You are a lifesaver.”

  “You’re a scoundrel.”

  “That’s why my little minx loves me,” he said tenderly, looking at Clementine where she stood. Her mouth dropped open and she almost argued the point, only to see Maisie pat Jericho on the cheek affectionately.

  “Just like my Edward,” the woman said and walked out of the room.

  “Come sit down and eat while its hot,” Jericho ordered, pulling up a chair from the corner for himself. “I hope you like bacon, eggs, and grits. She asked me what you’d like to eat and I guessed.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Staring, Clementine watched as he took several bites and closed his eyes happily. She could practically see his utter enjoyment as he took another bite. The smell of sweet and salty bacon wafted up to tickle her nose. Her belly gave an obnoxious rumble at that moment, causing Jericho’s lip to upturn in a wry grin, but he didn’t say a word.

  Clementine sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed and picked up her fork, scooping up some eggs and taking a bite. Her body was ravenous and it was a reminder that she wasn’t taking care of herself. She’d been in such a rush to avoid her fate that she’d forgone some simple things, and ran right into the man she was to marry.

  Once they’d finished eating, she assumed he would make some coarse remark about bathing or something else but he didn’t. He simply stood up and excused himself, leaving her alone. She sat on the bed half expecting him to walk back in and surprise her as she was undressing. Moments ticked by and she stared at the steaming bath waiting for her enviously. A knock on the door made her jump and she marched over, yanking it open only to be surprised.

  Maisie stood at the door with a blue calico dress draped over her arm. Her eyes widened in shock at the door being opened so aggressively.

  “Were you expecting someone?”

  “No. You surprised me.”

  “Your husband asked me to get you a dress to replace that one. I don’t think those stains will come out of it, but I will sure try to remove them.”

  “He asked you to get me another gown?”

  “Yes,” Maisie said with a knowing smile. “He said that he hoped I could find something blue to compliment your hair. That man truly loves you.”

  Clementine didn’t know what to say. This all felt like such a farce to her and she hated deceiving the woman. She understood why they were claiming to be married but the lie tasted sour all the same.

  “Thank you for all your kindness.”

  “Do you need more soap?”

  “I think one of the girls left a bar for me.”

  “Just holler if you need anything.”

  “Thank you again.”

  Clementine shut the door firmly and set the lock on the door. Eyeing the bathtub, she carefully removed her dress, feeling infinitely cooler as each layer came off. The outer dress, the underpinnings, the large bustle held with tapes to create a fashionable shape, and then her corset. Finally freeing herself, she stepped into the tub and sighed happily. Yanking off her sweaty chemise, she quickly darted down into the water to cover herself.

  She was so relieved to have clean clothing to get into after wearing all the trappings she’d donned for the trip. She’d wanted to present herself properly for Archibald Gordon when she asked for the position, hoping to make an impression. That wish didn’t change; it was only modified slightly with the need to send a telegrap
h to the man.

  She still intended to go to Colorado in pursuit of the job. It was just a matter of whether or not she could convince him – and Jericho. If he supported her, it would be such a boon to have the endorsement of another agent who’d been accepted into the Agency. There had to be some redeeming factor to him that made the Pinkertons want him as part of their team.

  The temptation to soak for hours – or at least until the water cooled- was great since she knew that Jericho would be next. He’d been good to her and it wasn’t like her to be spiteful. Plus, she was concerned that someone else might have a key to her room or barge in unexpectedly. Washing up quickly, she tediously laced herself back into her corset and underpinnings before pulling the calico dress over her head. The day dress had a very modest square neckline that exposed a little more skin than she was comfortable with since her dresses almost always buttoned up to the throat. It was infinitely cooler and would be comfortable to travel in once they got started towards Colorado again. First thing to attend to was sending that telegraph.

  A slight rap at the door had Clementine immediately smoothing her clothing to make sure everything was secure and decent. She quickly plaited her hair into a simple braid in order to keep it neat until it dried. Opening the door, she saw Jericho standing there leaning on the frame with a smile on his face that made her toes curl happily.

  “I was afraid you’d turned into a little mermaid,” he teased intimately. “But then I realized that stench was just the lye soap.”

  “Are you telling me that I smell?”

  “Nope, just teasing you about your bath. Is it completely cooled off now?” he asked, walking past her into the room. Clementine sputtered indignantly at the domineering way he simply barged in.

  “You need to leave.”

  “It’s my turn for a bath.”

  “Not in here, you don’t!”

  “Dumplin’,” he said in an exaggerated mocking tone. “The baths cost money and I don’t want to wait for them to heat more water. Besides, you are my wife.”

  “I’m your betrothed.”

  “Close enough,” he said, yanking his shirt over his head. Clementine slapped her hands over her eyes and did an about face. Using her hands as blinders, she quickly walked into the hallway looking for a place to hide from him. She could not stay in there!

  “Shut the door, pumpkin! There’s a draft.”

  Horrified, she slammed it shut. His laughter and sounds of water splashing carried through the wooden door, making her cheeks burn something fierce, but it also made her heart flip-flop wildly with a feeling she wasn’t ready to identify…

  Happiness.

  As they strode through the streets of the small town, Clementine didn’t want to be the one noticing how nicely Jericho cleaned up. He was handsome in a way that made her stomach do somersaults. His blond hair was slicked back with a comb, but as it dried and the wind picked it up, it feathered against his skin. Heading in to the telegraph office, she listened warily as he rattled off directions for the message. She expected him to take credit or make some remark that was uncouth since he had a rawness about him that made her crazy, but he was all business.

  Train derailment by James-Younger gang in Adair, Iowa

  On my way to Denver - Do I pursue?

  Excellent candidate for Agency with me

  She can explain details on derailment

  Awaiting directions

  She winced at the extravagant cost of the telegram. Last thing she wanted to do was visit a bank to have money wired to her. That would only reveal her location and open up more questions as to when she would be home for the wedding… A wedding she didn’t mind so much now, but would never admit.

  “Is there anything I should add?” he asked Clementine. She started, lost in thought and quickly shook her head. There was no reason to add to the price with more wording. She considered sending a message to her family to let them know she was safe, but that would wait until she arrived in Colorado.

  “Now what?”

  “We wait,” he said simply, handing the small slip of paper to the clerk. The telegraph was a quick way to get word across the country and once they knew their next move, they could come up with a plan.

  “She?” Archibald Gordon admitted with surprise under his breath before speaking to Marianne as she poured his tea. “Marianne, it seems that our newest Agent has found himself with another candidate – a woman.”

  “Archie, focus on the rest of the letter, if you please,” Marianne chided him gently. “The James-Younger gang has robbed a moving train? Tell me, is there no lengths that evil do-gooders will not reach? Just when I begin to think of how far we’ve come, I am taken aback.”

  “The telegraph doesn’t say how many were injured or how they managed to stop a train. It just asks if they should pursue them.”

  “And? Should they?”

  “No, I think not. Joseph Whicher or maybe John Boyle I believe may be better candidates. Both have more experience than Buchannan and I have a different mission for him in mind. Joe, what do you think?”

  “I can absolutely handle them,” Joseph Whicher announced confidently. Marianne had to keep herself from rolling her eyes in aggravation. The man was so arrogant it was sickening. He was a fantastic agent and always seemed to win the day – but that streak of success was bound to come at a price. He was brave to a fault.

  “See Marianne? Joe can handle the James-Younger gang. I’ve got complete confidence in him – and you should too.”

  “Of course, Archie,” Marianne said demurely, her eyes giving him a sideways glance as she admired the determination on his ruddy face. The man would uphold the law at any cost. “And the lady Buchannan is with?”

  “I won’t know until I speak with her,” Archie confessed, taking a sip of his tea. “I would like to have more details regarding this infamous derailment so the railroad can take measures to prevent a second or third instance.”

  “Archie,” she murmured. “If Buchannan is traveling with a young lady and they are working well together – why not give her a chance? I would pair the two of them up and marry them.”

  “Buchannan is betrothed to someone already, although your idea has merit. We shall see. I will send word that the first order of business is to get as much information as possible regarding the robbery. Both should attend me at once and then a decision will be made,” he announced, getting to his feet.

  “The woman Buchannan is with, what of her reputation? If they are traveling alone, it would make quite the scandal and doesn’t fit with the Pinkerton Code. We are to avoid scandalous situations.”

  “You don’t need to remind me of a code I live and breathe,” he said with an arched eyebrow. “You think they should be married immediately? Joe? What do you think?”

  “There’s no need to do something brash or reckless. Marriage isn’t the answer and we need that information on the train immediately,” Joseph interjected smugly.

  “You could solve two problems at once - especially if she is to be an agent. Another man might not take too keenly to his bride spending time alone with someone else prior to their wedding. The information will still be on the way and available to you both once they arrive.”

  “Even if it’s in name only?” Joseph sneered mockingly. “A piece of paper doesn’t save the world – action does. What is someone’s good name versus saving lives and upholding the law? Marianne, you’ve grown fanciful as of late.”

  “Archibald Gordon! You know that if their reputation is tainted or if word gets out, it will look poorly on the agency. Think of it, would you take a bride – in name only- if there was a shadow of impropriety?”

  “I wouldn’t and we’ve already discussed what I would want in a woman.”

  “I know we have,” Marianne said wistfully. She remembered that day and clung to his words. Someday he would know that she was the perfect woman for him, if he wasn’t so hard-headed and stubborn. She wanted to ruffle that smoothed beard and kiss his
brow sometimes – other moments she wanted to pour the tea in his lap.

  “If that will be all, Marianne? Joe, if you will excuse me – I’ve got work to attend to immediately. Prepare to depart within the week.”

  “Certainly. I’ll be ready,” Joseph confirmed, getting to his feet. He looked Marianne up and down, making her feel insignificant. She definitely disliked the man and his success with outlaws almost wasn’t enough to compensate for his arrogance.

  “Of course. You’ll make the best decision for the Agency, Archie. You always do.”

  She exited the office and tidied up nearby, listening to him as he spoke softly to himself as he composed a response to the telegram. Marianne found herself smiling at his words, knowing someday he would realize that she only had his best interests at heart.

  9

  Come to Denver – do not pursue.

  Candidate will be your partner

  Marry immediately

  Will explain on arrival

  Clementine’s hand shook as she handed the telegram back to Jericho. Had he betrayed her by telling Archibald Gordon of their betrothal? That didn’t seem possible because she’d read the original telegram that was sent. Could he have sent a second one?

  “Why would he say that?”

  “That we are to be partners?”

  “No, you clod,” she snapped, exasperated. “That we are to marry immediately.”

  “I don’t see a problem,” Jericho shrugged. “We are betrothed already.”

  “But I don’t want to marry you.”

  “I don’t think our parents asked us what we wanted to do. It’s been set in stone for years on end, Clementine, and truthfully – it would put our family’s minds at ease.”

  “You want this, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Did you arrange this?” she cried out, pointing at the telegram he still held in his hands.