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Sarah continued to puzzle over what she’d just seen. Had Mark already finished his interview with Mr. Baldwin and decided to check other places to see who might be hiring?
Then it hit her.
He was already working . . . as a Pinkerton detective.
That’s why he’s here.
The ice cream she’d just eaten felt heavy on her stomach as she let the realization settle. He wasn’t here for her wedding at all. And Felicia? If Sarah didn’t know that Jessica Bryant had been hired on as a female agent at one point, she would’ve firmly dismissed the strange idea that was planting itself in her head. But Jessica worked with Chas, who had recruited her as his partner when Mark hired him to find the men who had tried to murder her parents.
Suddenly all the pieces fit. Why Mark was acting so strangely. And why he had brought a woman as a guest for people neither of them had ever met. And why their expressions of love seemed so stilted?
Hmm.
Her brain in a fog, she blindly followed the other two girls out of the shop and down the street. Maddie’s cry of delight brought her out of her reverie.
“Oh, look! That must be the man who was drawing at the train station. He’s drawing in front of the café again. Can I go look?” She lifted a pleading expression up toward Sarah.
Sarah chuckled. The other women still weren’t back yet, so she said, “Let’s go have a peek.”
The man had drawn a small crowd around him. When the three of them got close enough, he said, “Good morning. Or is it afternoon? I lose track of time when I draw.”
“So do I,” Maddie said enthusiastically.
The man eyed her, smiling. “Well, now, a budding artist. What do you like to draw? Do you paint, too?”
Maddie moved forward, her eyes bright and her mouth stretching as wide as her face. “Yes. I like to draw the flowers in our garden, and sometimes the animals, too, if they’ll stay still long enough. What do you draw?”
The man had brown hair and a short beard and wore glasses. “I draw nearly everything I see. I’ve been visiting some of the cities out west. I went up north to Washington, then Oregon, and down into California, and spent time in San Francisco and Sacramento. Then I ventured into Nevada and Utah, spending time in the Salt Lake Valley. Very interesting people there, the Mormons. And now I’m here, at least for a few more days. Next I’ll be taking the train north to Cheyenne.”
Maddie gasped. “A few days? Can you come to my house before you leave? I would like you to see my drawings. I want to know if they’re any good, although I can already tell they’re not as good as yours.”
The man chuckled. “I’ve been practicing for many years.”
“What are you planning to do with your drawings?” Sarah asked, feeling alarmed that Maddie had so boldly invited a stranger to her house, and right before the wedding.
The man held out his hand for her to shake. “I’m actually not a sketcher so much as I am a painter. I exhibit in the Boston Museum of Arts. Frank Showalter is my name.”
Sarah stared at him, nonplussed. She had heard of him. His lovely painting of the sun peeking through the trees on Bunker Hill and another painting overlooking the battlefield at Gettysburg from Devils Den caught her attention when she visited the museum.
She found herself echoing Maddie’s invitation. “Might you have time to drop in at the Baldwins’ residence before you leave town, Mr. Showalter? We would love to see more of your drawings. I saw a few of your paintings back East.”
“Did you now?” A pleased smile made its way onto Mr. Showalter’s face. “And what did you think of them?”
“They’re brilliant. The way you use light to bring out the various colors on your subjects is very intriguing.”
Using the tip of his finger to push his glasses more firmly onto his nose, he said, “Thank you. I’ve learned over the years that I generally see things in a different light than most people.”
“I’ll ask my mother if you can come for supper tomorrow night,” Maddie offered.
“Why, thank you, miss . . . what is your name?”
“Maddie Baldwin.”
“Miss Maddie,” he repeated. “From one artist to another, I’m pleased to meet you. And I’ll look forward to seeing your drawings.”
“Yay!” She clapped her hands. “I still haven’t shown them to you, either, Sarah.”
“We’ll need to remedy that soon, won’t we?”
“Remedy what soon?”
Sarah turned to find Mark standing behind them. How had he snuck up so quietly? Amy’s face lit up when she saw him, and Sarah’s jaw went slack. Could it be? How had she missed it before? Amy liked Mark as more than a friend.
The thought both startled and angered her. First, she’d thought Mark and Felicia were together, and now the idea of Mark with Amy was churning her stomach. Of course, they would make a fine couple, and she loved each of them dearly, but . . .
Putting a hand to her forehead, she took a step back. Concern shone on Mark’s face. “Are you all right?”
“Y-yes, I . . .” She gulped, then waved her hand in her face. “It’s warm out here, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Not overly so. The weather’s just about perfect here, actually. A refreshing change from Virginia, especially in the summer.”
“There you girls are. We were wondering where you had wandered off to.”
Mrs. Baldwin and the other women came walking down the boardwalk, seeming in a hurry. “Shall we head over to the Hillburn now?”
“Mrs. Baldwin,” Sarah began, “I would like you to meet Mr. Frank Showalter, a painter from back East.”
Mrs. Baldwin’s greeting seemed more perfunctory than cordial. Maddie tugged on her sleeve. “He would like to come see my drawings sometime, Mama. Perhaps he could give me a few tips on how to draw better.”
“Maddie,” Mrs. Baldwin said in exasperation, “we’ve been over this before. While I’m glad that your drawings allow you to amuse yourself and spend time in nature, it’s a frivolous pursuit. Only the most talented artists make any money at all in such endeavors.”
“I beg to differ, ma’am,” Mr. Showalter said quietly. “I have been fortunate to earn a living on my talents, but I would be just as happy for the opportunity to create art simply for the sake of creating it. It fills a need inside of me that nothing else can. Perhaps it is the same for your daughter.”
Mrs. Baldwin said nothing, her disagreement with the man written clearly on her face. “It was nice to meet you, sir. Now come along, Maddie.” Nodding to Sarah and Amy, she summoned a smile. “Come, let us enjoy a nice meal out of this sweltering heat.”
“Sweltering?” Amy whispered from aside Sarah. “She doesn’t know what sweltering means.”
Sarah dared not reply. After all, this woman was going to be her mother-in-law in two days.
Mark caught up to Sarah and Amy and cast Sarah a worried look. Summoning a carefree smile of her own, she tried to dismiss him the same way that Mrs. Baldwin had dismissed the artist. “We’ll see you later this evening, I’m sure.”
A flash of disappointment came over his face, then was gone. “Yes.”
Felicia turned at that moment and waited for Mark to kiss her cheek. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” he told her. “Enjoy your time with the other ladies.”
“I will, dearest.”
You’re not fooling anyone, Sarah thought in satisfaction. Now that she knew Mark was playing a part, she wanted to know why, and she decided right then and there that she would find out.
***
Sarah didn’t get an opportunity to ask Mark about his clandestine trip to the Denver Pinkerton office through the rest of that day. After the ladies’ excursion, Derrick met them at the entrance of the mansion and announced that he had afternoon games planned outside. Amy put the packages from the print shop on the receiving table, then hooked her arm through Sarah’s. “This will be fun.”
Indeed it was, at least for a little while. Though she wasn’t as good at playing croquet as she was at riding a horse, she still had a good time being outdoors with the others. The air turned a bit nippy, however, and they finished their game and moved indoors before the sky darkened with thunderclouds. Soon it began to pour.
More games such as chess and whist were played in the billiard room. Felicia, in particular, surprised Sarah with her astuteness. She won most of the games she participated in. We each have our talents. Guess hers is billiards.
Just then, Parley came into the room and announced, “Mr. and Mrs. James Poplin have arrived."
“Phoebe!” Maddie squealed. Without warning, she dashed out of the room and ran down the hall to the grand entrance while the rest of the group followed at a more sedate pace. At the end of the hall, Maddie’s feet caught in her hem and she went tumbling.
“Oh, no!” Sarah raised a hand to her mouth and rushed forward. “Are you all right, Maddie?” She bent to help the girl up.
“Madeline Marie Baldwin!” Hazel scolded. “That was most inappropriate, young lady.”
The woman standing in the entrance bubbled with laughter. “Oh, Mama, she was just excited.”
“That she was,” the man standing beside the woman said. “So excited that she might have jarred you and little Eve here.” He nodded, indicating the baby Phoebe was holding in her arms.
“She’ll be careful, James. Won’t you, Maddie?” Phoebe said, bending down to let her sister see the sleeping babe.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Phoebe. Sorry, James.”
“It’s all right, pet.”
Derrick leaned over to kiss Phoebe’s cheek. “Welcome, sis. I’m glad you made it for the wedding.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it,” she said with a smile.
After Derrick shook his brother-in-law’s hand, he introduced Phoebe and James to Sarah.
“You’re as beautiful as Derrick described in his letter,” Phoebe proclaimed. “I’m so glad we’ll be sisters.” Then, noticing Amy and the Bryants, as well as Sarah’s parents and Mark and Felicia among the group, she added, “Please introduce us to your other guests, Derrick.”
As Derrick happily obliged, Hazel turned to her youngest daughter and said in a low tone, “You may go to your room and stay there, young lady.”
Maddie’s eyes welled up with tears. “And miss supper?”
“Yes.”
“But, Mama, I didn’t mean to—”
“What you meant to do and what actually happened are two different things. How many times have I reminded you that you are too old for such tomfoolery?”
Maddie hung her head and said nothing.
Sarah’s heart plummeted. Poor Maddie. “Mrs. Baldwin,” she cut in, “Maddie was planning to show me her artwork later on.”
Mrs. Baldwin seemed to relent, but then she squinted at Sarah and refuted. “Well, she can’t now, can she? Perhaps tomorrow.” Turning back to her daughter, she added, “And perhaps this will help you to remember how a young lady should behave at all times.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said in a subdued voice, then turned and walked up the staircase.
Both women watched until Maddie was out of sight. It wasn’t until a door closed overhead that Sarah realized everyone else had stopped to watch the interaction. In the awkward silence that followed, Sarah offered a tentative smile. She could think of nothing to say.
Mrs. Baldwin seemed to assess her. Even Derrick gave her a long look, and Sarah felt like she was in the schoolroom again, being called on by the teacher to recite her sums. Then, without warning, Mrs. Baldwin’s face broke into a smile and she said, “Come, everyone. The staff has dressed two geese for us, and prepared wild rice soup and rolls for us tonight. Mr. Baldwin should be home from work shortly.”
Maybe later tonight, she could sneak into Maddie’s room so she could see her drawings. If she was going to do that, she might as well bring some food from the kitchen.
“What are you thinking?” Derrick whispered in her ear.
Knowing he probably wouldn’t like what she was thinking, she murmured, “Mmm, I’m thinking about that soup and those geese.”
“Famished after our rout over Mark and Felicia during croquet, are you?”
It wasn’t as much a rout as Derrick was suggesting, but Sarah didn’t see the need to argue. “Yes.”
