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Mark drank in the sight of Sarah, looking like the beautiful horsewoman she was with her eyes sparkling like sapphires in the sunlight and her golden hair woven into a thick braid. Somehow, too, the blouse and split skirt she wore seemed a better fit against the backdrop of mountain peaks that jutted high up into the deep blue sky more than they had against the rolling hills back home. The thought startled him.
“Hi, Sarah.” He wasn’t sure how she would greet him, given their rough farewell.
He was disappointed, and yet couldn’t blame her, when she hung back. With a polite nod, she said, “It’s good to see you again, although I have to admit I didn’t expect you here. What brings you this way? I thought you were starting a new job.”
“It didn’t work out,” he replied with a shrug.
“Does that mean you’ll be heading back to Dreviston?” Amy Flanders asked from behind Sarah.
Remembering their uncomfortable exchange from a few weeks before, he lowered his gaze and shook his head. “Not just yet. Think I’ll stick around here for a while, look for another job.” Mark shouldn’t have been surprised by how easily the lies came to his lips. He’d had to fall back on falsehoods in order to survive before, but he’d broken the habit once he found a place he could call home with the Packards and Bryants.
A place I thought I could call home, he thought ruefully. That was all gone now.
Just then, Felicia’s hand landed possessively on Mark’s arm and he almost jumped out of his skin. Oh, yeah. He was supposed to be pretending she was his sweetheart.
Mark didn’t miss the way Sarah’s eyes darted toward Felicia before coming back to him. Or the downward turn of her lips when Felicia had moved her hand there. A spark of hope lit up inside of him even though he tried to tamp it down.
Another spark of hope came when she asked, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your, uh, friend?”
Gulp.
Double gulp as Sarah’s fiancé, Derrick, came walking up behind her, his eyes narrowing when recognition hit. “Sarah, this is your friend from Virginia, right?”
Turning to face him, she answered, “Yes. Mark Wilson. And he’s brought a friend.”
“So I see,” he said easily, yet there were hard little lines at the corners of his mouth.
Feeling out of his element, Mark would’ve taken a step backward had Felicia not tightened her grip on his arm and twisted her head to gaze up at Mark in an adoring manner. She even batted her lashes a few times, making Mark wonder what kind of strange realm he’d stepped into.
“Yes, honey. Introduce me to your friends, now would you?” Felicia pleaded.
O-kay.
“Felicia, this here is Miss Sarah Packard—”
“Soon to be Baldwin,” Derrick cut in, wrapping his arm around Sarah’s waist and tucking her into his side. Was it Mark’s imagination or had Sarah resisted a little at first? Interesting.
Gathering his courage, he turned an affectionate smile on Felicia and spoke more confidently. “And this is Mr. Derrick Baldwin, Sarah’s fiancé. They’re the couple whose wedding we’re here for.” Standing near Amy in the background, her eyes round with surprise, was a girl of about ten that he didn’t recognize. But judging by her blonde hair and bright blue eyes, he guessed that she was related to Derrick somehow.
Raising his hand toward Amy, he said, “And this is Miss Amaryllis Flanders, my childhood friend—” he didn’t miss the way Amy’s hands came to her hips at the use of her full name— “and I’m not sure of this little gal, but she’s cute as a button.”
The girl smiled and said, “I’m Maddie. What’s your name?”
“Mark Wilson, and this is my sweetheart, Felicia.”
Sarah and Amy both gasped, but it was only Sarah’s reaction that Mark was concerned about. “Y-your sw . . .” She couldn’t seem to get the words out. Mouth hanging open, she stared at Mark for a moment before eyeing Felicia again with a frown.
“That was quick, Wilson,” Derrick said with a smirk.
Funny. He hadn’t looked all that confident a few minutes ago.
“Are you getting married?” Maddie blurted.
Just like that, Mark felt like he’d been sucker punched. “Uh . . .” he stammered.
Thankfully, Felicia saved the day with her quick thinking. “Not yet, child. We’re still getting to know each other. Courting, as it’s called. But when Mr. and Mrs. Packard invited Mark here for the wedding, Mark was loathe to leave me all by my lonesome. So I came with him. Hope that’s okay with you all.” She included Sarah and Derrick in her entreaty.
“Oh, of course,” Sarah stammered, still obviously ill at ease. With a stiff smile, she addressed Derrick. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you, darling?”
“Not a bit,” he said easily, his smile wider than it had been a moment ago. Leaning over, he placed a lingering kiss at her temple.
Mark barely kept himself from slugging the guy.
“Maddie, go on in for supper,” Derrick directed his sister. “We’ll be just a moment.”
“But I was going to show Sarah my drawings.”
“Another time, little mite.” Derrick tweaked her nose and sent her on her way. Before obeying her brother, though, she cast a look of longing at Sarah. Mark could relate. Sarah’s naturally generous nature, along with her sweet smiles, drew most people in like bees to flowers. It shamed him to realize how beastly he had behaved toward her over the past month. Sure, he’d been upset, but she didn’t deserve his wrath. Hopefully, with this assignment, he’d find a chance to apologize. Still, it would be absolute torture watching her say “I do” to this buzzard.
Dang! Only his second assignment and already he felt like his job as a Pinkerton agent was in jeopardy. Because there was no way on earth he would be able to keep his emotions in check throughout this investigation. He just hoped he and Felicia could find the person or persons responsible for the strange things happening to the Baldwins lickety split—before he said or did something else he might regret.
***
Supper was a strenuous affair. Although Mark had shocked her with his presence, Sarah was nonetheless glad to see him. But she knew that not everyone was, namely Derrick. While Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin seemed to take Mark and Felicia’s sudden appearance in stride, Derrick scowled like a little boy who had his favorite toy taken away. Sarah could certainly relate. The one thing she wasn’t pleased about was Felicia’s presence. If she didn’t know better, Sarah would think Felicia was assessing the Baldwins and their estate. Was she a gold-digger? Did she think Mark had a lot of money? Or at least friends with a lot of money? She seemed to be looking at the fine linen tablecloth and delicate china, the chandelier above and the crown molding. Then her gaze zeroed in on the brooch pinned to the ruffled lace collar at Mrs. Baldwin’s throat, and Sarah’s stomach clenched. Should she say anything to Mark? No. That would make her look like a shrew. Better to keep an eye on her, and then she could report any mishap to him should it occur.
Feeling a bit better, she took a bite of her pork chop, savoring the flavor. The cook had seasoned it just right. One thing about the Baldwins—their staff was top notch. Take Mathilda. Seeing a grass stain on Sarah’s split skirt when she came in from riding, she immediately offered to take the garment and scrub it before it set. It was hanging to dry on the line outside at this very moment. Sarah would put in a good word for her to Mrs. Baldwin. Perhaps the girl might receive a little extra pay.
“How was your day, Mr. and Mrs. Packard, and Mr. and Mrs. Bryant?” Derrick’s father asked. His pewter gray eyes matched his hair. He was a tall man, solidly built. A man that size most certainly would have to have his clothes tailored. He exuded confidence and a business acumen that was unsurpassed.
Sarah listened as her father and mother mentioned the picnic and tour of Denver.
Then Maddie chimed in as well. “Father, we saw a man sketching in town. I wanted to go over to where he was and get a better look at his drawings, but Derrick wouldn’t let me.”
Sarah smiled, recalling Maddie’s enthusiasm over seeing the man sketching. Little sisters, it seemed, were fun.
The scowl lifted from Derrick’s face long enough for him to say, “We didn’t have time, pet. And anyway, he had drawn quite a crowd around him. Perhaps another day.”
“Oh, can we?”
“May we?” Mrs. Baldwin corrected her.
Maddie rolled her eyes and then repeated, “May we?”
“We will have to see,” Mr. Baldwin said. “Exactly where was this man? And what was he sketching?”
“He was outside the cafe, sitting in a chair with a large pad of paper in front of him on an easel, and sketching one of the tall buildings across the street.”
Mrs. Baldwin paused while lifting her fork to her mouth. “Unless it was the Sunset View Lodge, I can’t think of anything else around here impressive enough to spend all afternoon sketching.”
Mr. Baldwin pulled on his beard. “Hmm. I wonder if it’s the same man who was sketching at the train station a few weeks ago.”
His wife looked at him askance. “What are you talking about, Tad?”
“You didn’t see him when we stepped off the train?”
“Heavens, no. I was too busy trying to stay upright when that urchin slammed into me.” The bite in her tone let Sarah know that she still smarted from the humiliating experience.
“He was in the corner, facing the eastern end of Wyncoop Street.”
“Hmm,” was all Mrs. Baldwin said, then took another bite of her supper.
After that, the conversation turned to other topics. Still pondering over the silent but observant Felicia, it took Sarah a few minutes to realize that Mark seemed to be directing the conversation in a certain manner. She was used to him chatting amiably about how his day had gone or some interesting new thing he had learned while tending to the horses, but his particular manner seemed different tonight. Or was it just that she hadn’t been around him for a while?
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to be able to come and celebrate Sarah and Derrick’s wedding with you all,” he told the Baldwins. “I was looking forward to landing a new job here and am utterly disappointed that the interview didn’t work out.” At everyone’s curious looks, he shrugged, adding, “But maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.”
A moment later, he let out a soft gasp and swiveled his head toward Felicia’s.
Her smile looked more like a grimace to Sarah.
“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. I was merely shifting my foot when it accidentally connected with yours,” she said sweetly.
Mark gazed at her, unsmiling, for a moment before lifting the corners of his mouth. “It’s all right, my dear. No harm done.”
“I certainly hope not.”
The words, murmured so softly Sarah had to strain her ears to hear, unsettled her. One would think Felicia was merely referring to Mark’s foot, but there seemed to be some sort of undercurrent in the air.
You’re just being fanciful. You’ve read too many books where the characters were trying to pass a secret message on to someone else. This is Mark, the guy you know like the back of your hand. She scooped up a bit of mashed potatoes and forced them into her mouth.
“What kind of work are you looking for?” Mrs. Baldwin asked politely.
“Don’t really know,” he answered, shrugging. “I’m good with horses, so if anyone is looking for a groomsman . . .”
You had a perfectly good job as a groomsman, Sarah wanted to tell him. It seemed ridiculous that he would leave a secure position back in Virginia to come all the way here on an uncertainty. Something wasn’t right about all of this.
Mr. Baldwin entered the conversation for the first time. “Are you interested in machinery at all? Have some scientific know-how, by chance?”
Mark pressed his lips together for a moment before answering. “I’ve never actually tried my hand in that field.”
Chas Bryant spoke up for him. “Don’t let Mark fool you, Mr. Baldwin. He hasn’t had the opportunity to receive a formal education, but he’s smart as a whip. Capable of learning anything.”
Mark’s face lit up at Chas’s praise, but he said nothing.
Derrick, on the other hand, made a sound low in his throat. Noticing the others staring at him, he shrugged and said, “Sorry. I, uh, had a morsel of food stuck in my throat.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied, hoping that he could dislodge whatever had gone down his windpipe the wrong way.
That made her think of Ember. The poor horse had choked on something. Her death had been agonizingly slow. Struggling to rein her sorrow for her beloved mare in, Sarah sighed and turned her attention back to the conversation.
“I may have a job for you if you’re interested,” Mr. Baldwin told Mark. “I’m in the process of installing a series of telephone lines, not in Denver because that’s already been done, but in the surrounding areas.”
Mark gave a low whistle. “I’ve heard good things about the newfangled telephone that Bell and Watson designed but have never used one.”
“I haven’t, either,” Mr. Packard interjected. “Sounds like the way to go, however.”
“It is,” Mr. Baldwin affirmed. “There’s big money to be made in it.”
“And, of course, you want Denver to keep up with the latest innovations,” Mrs. Baldwin encouraged.
“And help the people stay connected to their families that live far away,” Sarah added.
“Yes, all of that, too.”
Mr. Packard swallowed his bite of food then said, “What a marvel to think that a person on one side of the country could telephone another on the other side and hear them speaking instantaneously. It wasn’t long ago that it took months or even years to hear from a loved one. Chas could certainly attest to that, seeing as how he used to work as a Pony Express rider.”
“I remember those days,” Chas murmured with a half-grin. “Glad they’re over.”
His wife smiled and nodded.
“I’ll bet you have stories to tell, though,” Derrick’s younger brother, Michael, said in awe.
“He doesn’t like to talk about ’em,” Amy said quickly. “Right, Chas?”
Chas shrugged and nodded. “It was a dangerous job. I did it because I had nothing else to do, no one else’s health and safety to worry about but my own.” He smiled at Jessica. “Now I have a family to love and care for, and I’m happy doing what I’m doing.”
“Back to this telephone business,” Mark said briskly. “How large will your operation be? How far are you planning to extend the lines?”
Sarah held in a laugh. Mark was like a dog with a bone. Still, she had to concede that a young man who was courting a young lady and possibly thinking about marriage—why did that thought shorten her breath?—would be concerned about landing a good-paying job.
As Mark and Mr. Baldwin talked shop, with Sarah’s father and Chas occasionally joining in, Sarah marveled at the speed with which Mr. Baldwin was planning on developing this complex system. He was a businessman through and through, as was confirmed by his own admission that he knew next to nothing about the telephone operation, but he’d been able to contact several people who could help him with the process.
Mr. Baldwin was still explaining several things to Mark that Sarah didn’t even begin to understand, something about switchboards and transmitters, when the doorbell rang. And rang again.
“Oh, my! That sounds urgent,” Mrs. Baldwin said, dabbing her mouth with her serviette.
“I’m sure if it’s important, Parley will let us know,” Mr. Baldwin said, lifting his fork up to his mouth. He was referring to the butler.
Less than thirty seconds later, Parley appeared. “An urgent matter needs your attention, sir.”
“Excuse me for just a moment,” Mr. Baldwin said before leaving the room to discuss the matter privately. He returned a few minutes later, looking harried. “I’m sorry. I must leave to take care of an important matter down at the storehouse.”
“Tad, what has happened?” Mrs. Baldwin asked, her voice strained.
He hesitated then said, “Someone broke in there and damaged our last shipment. I’m going down there to take a look.”
