Chapter Ten

Standing in the far corner of the dining room, Brenna heard the door open and felt a blast of frigid air. She leaned far enough to watch two tall figures, bundled against the cold, stamp into the lobby.

“Come in and get warm.”

“Can a man get something hot to eat?”

Micah! Brenna’s heart leapt at the sound of his voice, but then she remembered the last night they’d seen each other, and it quivered in pain. What they’d had was over.

She’d even gone so far as to hint around town that Holly Hill was for sale. As far as she was concerned, the sooner Christmas was over and she could flee from Clarissa Lawrence’s sight again, the better.

“I’ve a pot of stew on the back of the stove. Sit down, and I’ll bring you a bit.”

“You’d better bring more than a bit. And more than a bit for my sister here. I think she’s so cold she’s lost the power of speech.” He removed his coat and hat and took them to warm by the fire.

“Have I said a word about being cold since we started riding?” a peeved feminine voice retorted.

“You didn’t have to. Your teeth were chattering.” Micah held out his hand for his sibling’s coat. “But you didn’t say anything else either. I’ve never known you to go more than half an hour without something to say, and that includes when you’re asleep. Got any coffee on, Brenna?”

She stepped out into his line of vision. How could he come in here and act so—normal? “Have you ever known me to go half an hour without brewing a pot—unless I’m asleep?”

“Brenna, this is my sister, Susanne.” He put a hand on the other woman’s back and nudged her forward.

He could have saved those words. Anyone with eyes could peg this woman as a Trent at first glance. The height, the honey-brown hair, the narrow face with the strong jaw.

“He said you’d hold a room for me.” Susanne smiled at her.

“Not much holding to be done since I’ve not a guest in the place.” Brenna motioned them both into the dining room.

“Why’s that?”

She thought Micah intended the question to sound more causal than it did. A note of worry hung under the words.

She shrugged. “I had two yesterday, but like most others, they’re wanting to be settled in before Christmas. Weren’t many for dinner, either. Just Jeb and Clancy. I think they took a deck of cards over to the smithy. Tom went with them, if you’re interested.”

He shook his head. “What I’m interested in is a bowl of that stew and seeing if my sister has had enough time to ponder her latest case and tell me if she’s come to a conclusion.”

Brenna couldn’t hide her interest and turned back to Susanne. “Your latest case? You’re here on Pinkerton business?”

Susanne slid into a chair and shot a sidelong look at her brother. “I’m here on a hunch. But I’m still waiting on one piece of information. Did a telegram arrive for me today?”

“No.” Brenna answered. She would certainly have given something as important as a telegram to her straightaway.

Micah sighed and started back to where he’d left his coat by the fire. “When it’s this cold, Old Fred’s rheumatism kicks up, and he’ll wait until he can con someone to make his deliveries. Dish me up some of that stew, Bren, I’ll be right back.”

He swung his coat on with a flourish and struck out into the weather again.

“I could have gone,” Susanne complained, her gaze following his path. “I’m not some helpless, delicate flower.”

Brenna studied this woman who would have been her sister-in-law. What was it Micah had said? Sometimes you are so much like my sister. Stubborn, bull-headed. Doing everything her way and doing it all alone. Well, she’d known Miss Susanne Trent less than ten minutes and liked her already. And if she didn’t think she was so much like her, when she left Jubilation, she would need to be.

“I’ll go get the stew,” Brenna excused herself. “The telegraph office is only a few buildings down. He’s likely to be back before I am.”

She filled two bowls to brimming with the meaty mixture of meat and vegetables, cut a half loaf of fresh bread, scooped up a bowl of butter, and set it all on a tray. She returned to the dining room just as Micah came through the door, frowning at the paper in his hand.

“This makes no sense at all,” he said, handing the telegram to his sister.

“That’s because it wasn’t meant for you,” she smiled enigmatically and took it. After she read the message, she put up a hand to stop Micah from removing his coat. “You might want to go get Jeb. He might have some ideas on how to close this.”

****

Micah found Jeb, Clancy, and Tom huddled near the forge, all fiercely considering the cards they held.

“You back?” Jeb glanced up as he walked in. “Did you meet up with Susanne?”

Micah nodded. “We stopped by the hotel on the way in. She sent me to get you.”

“Is she tired of you already?” Jeb folded his hand.

“Now hold on there,” Clancy, the stagecoach driver, griped. “I ain’t hardly had a chance to win back any of my pay. You had this all planned didn’t you, Trent? Lure me over tellin’ me you got a bottle and we’ll have just a friendly game and just when I’m down, your brother comes and breaks up the game.”

“I haven’t seen my sister in two years.” Jeb tossed his cards down. “Let’s split the pot three ways and call it quits.”

“That ain’t right,” Clancy protested again. “I cain’t take money less’n I won it back fair and square.”

“You do what you want.” Tom was already counting out his third. “Me, I’d rather think I took charity than lose a week’s pay. In fact, I’m comin’ out two bits ahead.”

“Tom’s a wise man,” Jeb told Clancy sagely. “Another hour and you’d have both lost a month’s pay. Get my share there, too, son. I’m going on down to the hotel to see my sister.”

They’d only gone a few yards away from the blacksmith’s shop when Jeb said, “So what’s going on?”

“I thinks she wants to save her breath and tell us at the same time.” Micah told Jeb about the cryptic telegram Susanne was so confident about. Correct. Confirmed. Yes. No. New Year’s Eve. Nathan. Some kind of code, he supposed. And just who was Nathan?

Susanne had finished her bowl of stew and started on his when they arrived at the table.

“Didn’t want to save her breath. She wanted to get you out of the way so she could eat your supper.” Jeb hauled their sister up into a bear hug.

“You could have left some.” Micah snatched up a piece of bread and took back his near-empty bowl.

“Brenna said there’s plenty,” she informed him. “She’s making you another dish. This was going cold anyway.”

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that,” he grumbled.

“No, I want you to thank me for this.” She tapped her finger on the slip of the telegram.

Brenna spun out of the kitchen with a tray and put steaming bowls of food in front of him, Jeb, and Tom.

“Thank you for eight words? And who is Nathan, anyway?” Micah demanded. No matter how independent she was—and she was independent—she was still his little sister.

“Nathan Randall,” she said simply.

The name stunned him. “Nathan Randall? That rich stuffed shirt who’s kid I just tracked down?”

“The same,” she confirmed. Her cheeks turned pink.

“And what’s the nature of your relationship with this Randall?” he demanded.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Micah, that’s none of your business.” She wrapped her hands around a cup of coffee. “He’s a widower. I’m a grown woman. And you wouldn’t have known anything about him if I hadn’t given Desmond those dime novels and the little milquetoast hadn’t taken it into his head he could be a gunslinger.” She looked irritated about that.

“But—”

“Could we get back to the matter at hand, please?” Jeb interrupted in his easy manner. “Apparently, this Nathan Randall fellow has something to do with the strange happenings here, or Susanne wouldn’t have contacted him. Let’s hear that part.”

“Come sit by me, Brenna,” Susanne urged. “We’re going to need your thoughts on this, too.”

Brenna slid into the chair next to her, wondering why three Pinkerton trained detectives would need her thoughts on anything.

“Back in October,” Susanne began, settling back in her chair with her coffee while her brothers started to eat. “I went to my first—and last—society wedding as Nathan Randall’s guest. The groom was some sort of minor royalty from Belgium or Austria or some such place. I heard in the ladies’ lounge that the bride’s mother thought it was quite a coup. The girl’d been jilted a couple of years ago because her father’s death created the scandal of the season, and the mother thought she’d never make another suitable match.

“When you told me Brenna’s story, Micah, I was sure I’d been at Clarissa Lawrence’s wedding.”

Forgetting to feel betrayed by Micah revealing her secret, Brenna stared at Susanne in stunned wonder. Clarissa Lawrence was married? How could she be here in Jubilation?

Susanne tapped the first word of the telegram. Correct. “I was correct. And I also asked him to confirm that she had returned to her husband’s country with him.”

Brenna saw the second word. Confirmed.

“So you’re saying that Brenna isn’t being blackmailed?” Micah asked incredulously.

Susanne, like any good storyteller, held up a hand for his patience. “I didn’t say she’s not being blackmailed. I believe she is. But not by Clarissa.”

“Who then?” Brenna demanded. “I traveled hundreds of miles from New York so no one would know me. Until I spoke of it to Micah, I never so much as breathed a word. No one but Tom knew.”

Tom made a long-suffering, weary sound. “And you’re back to me now, are ya?”

“And,” Brenna went on, her narrowed gaze on her brother. “I don’t believe he had a thing to do with it.”

“Well, I daresay, he’s a candidate, but I have a more likely suspect,” Susanne assured her. “Alice Langdon.”

Micah, Jeb, and Tom looked as perplexed as Brenna felt. “Am I supposed to know this Alice Langdon?”

“Probably not, unless you spent time at the Lawrence mansion, which is unlikely, given your relationship with Mr. Lawrence. The next thing I asked Nathan was if Alice Langdon had been Clarissa Lawrence’s maid.”

“And the answer is yes.” Brenna pointed to the telegram. “The next answer is no. No, what?”

“Has she been caught?”

“Caught for what?” Micah asked grimly, looking down at the paper himself.

“Theft. A day or two before the wedding, Alice took off with one of Clarissa’s steamer trunks, some cash, and a number of the Lawrence family’s heirloom jewels,” his sister answered. “Alice is an immigrant who didn’t want to go back to Europe, particularly if she was going to be part of the household staff of a nobleman,” His sister answered. “Widow Lawrence hired Pinkerton’s to track her down, since beyond the sentimental value, some of the jewels were worth a lot of money. I attended the wedding under the guise of the out-of-town guest of an old family friend.” She looked pointedly at Micah. “Nathan Randall.”

Brenna saw why this Alice Langdon was a more viable suspect than Tom for the crime, but… “How would she have found me? It’s not likely she followed me here when I came then trotted back to her position at the Lawrence household with no one noticing.”

For the first time, Susanne frowned. “That’s the part I haven’t worked out yet. Maybe she befriended someone in your family or watched your brother and little girl. But if she’s here, that part doesn’t matter at the moment, we just need to find her.”

“And what happens New Year’s Eve?” Micah tapped the telegram.

“Oh,” Susanne picked up the paper and tucked it in her pocket. “That’s the next time Nathan will be in Chicago on business.”

Her brothers’ faces drew into tight lines, and in spite of the situation, Brenna wanted to laugh.

Susanne pushed her chair back and rose, going to the sitting room to rifle through the pockets on the man’s duster she’d worn. Her hand emerged with a crumbled sheet of paper, and she returned to the table with a look of satisfaction. “Here. I took this from the Kansas City office. They’re so certain Alice Langdon is still in New York, they’d thrown it off to the side.”

Micah and Jeb studied it, shook their heads and handed it back.

Susanne gave it another glance then passed it to Brenna.

She gasped. The Pinkerton rendering wasn’t perfect, but she could recognize who it was supposed to be. “The mail-order bride.”

Alice Langdon had followed Tom and Martha.

“Who?” Tom leaned to look over her shoulder then snorted. “Oh, her.”

“You know her?” Susanne flicked a glance at Tom.

“Know her?” Tom snorted again. “Nah. She’s the type that won’t lower herself to look at the likes of me. But she was on the train from Kansas City and then took the stagecoach with us and Mr. and Mrs. Strauss. Didn’t say two words the entire time. Not even when Mrs. Strauss would offer her a sweet or half a sandwich.”

“But she’s still here in Jubilation?” Susanne pressed.

Tom shrugged. “Don’t know. Didn’t pay attention once she got out of the stage.”

“She left with a man,” Brenna provided. “And I did see her about a week ago at the mercantile, the day I bought the material for Martha’s coat.”

Susanne nodded. “That’s a start. Did you recognize the man?”

Brenna shook her head. “I just thought she was one of those women who’d come west to marry. She looked a little citified for life in Kansas.”

“You’re a little citified for life in Kansas,” Micah put in, too easily, too friendly.

She wished he would stop acting as if nothing had changed, as if they could go back to the way things had been before Tom, Martha, and Alice Langdon had arrived in town.

“What if the man’s a farmer? Some of them don’t come to town more’n four or five times a year. Makes sense Brenna wouldn’t know him,” Jeb offered in his lazy way.

Micah nodded. “But Alice Langdon’s been in town plenty. We just haven’t seen her.”

“Or she’s got help.” Jeb pushed away his empty bowl. “Remember, it was a boy who delivered the note to my shop.”

Susanne dismissed that with a wave. “You can get a boy anywhere to deliver a note for a penny. I don’t think that’s a clue. What about anyone else in town who might know where she is?”

“I saw her at Wilber’s store that day,” Brenna repeated. “But I don’t think Charles knew anything about her, but he might know if she’d been back. He’s been in knots since I told him that the box for the d-o-l-l was empty, trying to figure out where it’s gone. He said he’d packed the box before the store opened, as usual, and left it for Henry to deliver whenever he could. Maybe he’ll remember if she’d come in again.”

Micah nodded. “Jeb, deputy, tomorrow you talk to Charles. Brenna, Suze, and I will go out to Wilhelm Strauss’s place and talk to his parents. Maybe they’ll know where Alice is hiding.”