Chapter 12

The three days were up.

Three days of conversations. Three days of her falling asleep on his shoulder. Three days of holding sweet Mary Margaret’s hand whenever he could.

And now their journey was almost to an end. Could he let it end?

Charles rubbed her knuckles as she slept on his shoulder one last time. They’d be pulling up to Denver soon, and he’d have to take her straight to the courthouse.

If he thought they’d built a friendship before, it had grown into so much more as they’d traveled for miles on the train. But he couldn’t be selfish and think of that now.

When he’d gone to the station in San Francisco, he’d been hit with a genius idea. So he’d traded in his tickets for a later train and then stayed to watch their mystery guest board the train they were first going to take.

Now he just needed to get Mary Margaret off the train and to the courthouse without mishap. And that was easier said than done.

He’d purchased a private compartment to keep her as concealed as possible—and selfishly so he could be with her and hold her hand—but there were sure to be people at the station watching and waiting for them.

The train slowed, and she lifted her head and stretched. The travel had at least been restful for her. “Are we there?”

“Just about.”

Quiet engulfed them as he retreated to his own thoughts. But as the train came to a stop, he knew his time was up. “Mary Margaret.”

“Yes?” She squeezed his hand and didn’t reprimand him for not calling her Martin.

“There’s something I really need to tell you—some—”

The door to their compartment burst open. “It’ll have to wait.” The man who’d been following them pointed a gun at Mary Margaret. “All right, let’s get a few things straight. You’re going to get your bags, keep your heads down, and get off the train like nothing is out of the ordinary. If you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in little Miss Heiress here. Got it?”

He nodded. Didn’t want to give the guy any thought that Charles would try something—which of course he would. Just needed the right moment.

As they exited the train, Charles looked for a distraction.

A police whistle sounded behind them.

Something poked into his back. “Move!” The kidnapper’s voice snapped with anger.

“Oomph.”

The pressure on his back disappeared. Charles turned around and so did Mary Margaret.

“Uncle!” She hugged the man.

Sure enough, Dillard stood there with a policeman’s club in his hand. And their kidnapper lay in a heap on the ground.

“Thank you.” Mary Margaret hugged her uncle again. “I know Charles was trying to find a way to get me away from the man. How’d you do it?”

“The policeman gave me this. And so I just bopped him on the head.” Dillard shrugged.

“But how did you find us?” Charles shook the man’s hand. “I hadn’t heard anything more from you.”

Dillard laughed. “Let’s just say that I had a man watching this man who was watching you.” He took Mary Margaret by the arm. “I don’t want to waste a minute. Let’s get to the courthouse. Everyone is already there.” He gestured to another man beside them. “Oh by the way, Charles Delaney, this is Judge Graham. He will be assisting today.”

Charles shook the other man’s hand, and then all four climbed into a buggy.

The courthouse teemed with people. What was going on?

Dillard leaned toward Charles. “There’s also a murder trial going on.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

“I was hoping it would help us sneak her in.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Judge Graham had Mary Margaret on his arm. They must be old friends, because she talked to the older man as if she’d known him all her life.

When the judge opened the door to courtroom B, a cacophony of voices filled the air. Yelling from every direction.

The judge on the bench banged his gavel.

“Exactly why have we been summoned here today?” The nasally voice came from a short woman on the right side. “It’s apparent that our sister’s not returning. Why do we have to wait?”

“It’s our money, too!” A lower female voice.

Those must be the sisters. Martha and Mabel.

Charles stepped forward, but Mary Margaret’s hand shot out and stopped him. She removed her hat, letting her hair tumble down, and walked forward. “Sorry to disappoint you. But I’m very much alive.”

The women and the men beside them all gasped. And then started yelling again.

Charles covered his ears. How could these women be even remotely related to Mary Margaret and Arnold Abbot?

The judge’s gavel banged five more times. “Order! I demand order.” He pointed to Mary Margaret. “Now come forward. How do we know you are in fact the Miss Mary Margaret Abbot? You could be an imposter.”

The sisters agreed from their corner.

Charles just rolled his eyes.

Dillard and Judge Graham walked forward and approached the bench. Judge Graham sent a serious frown to the presiding judge and then whispered for a minute or two.

The judge on the bench went ashen.

Police filled the courtroom.

Charles watched in awe as the sisters, their husbands, and the judge were all arrested.

Dillard smiled and patted Charles on the back. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”

Mary Margaret walked to him in her boyish getup and took his hand.

Judge Graham joined them. “Judge Scoggins has been suspected of taking bribes for some time. We are grateful for your assistance in helping us put this case to rest once and for all.”

“What about Martha and Mabel?” Her sweet voice shared her concern for her sisters, even though they’d been horrid.

“They—along with their husbands—have been arrested for conspiracy to commit murder and a few other small charges, like falsifying papers, forging documents, stealing, and bribing a US court judge.”

“Will I be allowed to visit them?”

“Of course. But do you really want to?” The judge furrowed his brow and shook his head.

Mary Margaret looked to Charles. “Yes, I think I do. Will you go with me, Charles?”

“When the time is right. Yes, I will gladly accompany you.” If he could just keep his temper in check. He’d have to pray a lot about that one.

Dillard walked back toward them and kissed his niece on the cheek. “I’m so glad you are okay.” He chuckled. “But how you ever passed as a boy when you smell so much like lavender is beyond me.”

Charles and Mary Margaret shared a look. He winked at her. “You should have smelled her last week.”

Two crazy days passed with legal paperwork and visits to the local jail. Mary Margaret slept a lot, too. But Uncle Dillard said that he’d kept Charles occupied with business talk whenever she wasn’t around.

As she waited for Charles now, she anticipated talking with him alone. There was so much she wanted to say. So much that filled her heart and her mind.

“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘All that glitters is not gold’?” Charles’s voice from behind her on the veranda made her smile. She turned to him and took in those beautiful gray eyes.

He lifted her hand and kissed her palm.

Heat flared up her arm. “Yes, I have. Merchant of Venice … Shakespeare.” She smiled. It was unexpected, but oh, so glorious. She loved this man. Yes, she did. And she couldn’t wait to tell him. “So…?”

“Well in gold mining, in the panning process, we find a lot of fool’s gold—pyrite.”

“Go on.” Her heart beat a little faster. She knew him so well, she had already figured out where he was going. But she longed to hear him say it. So she forced herself to remain patient and bit her lip.

“Pyrite is much more reflective of light than real gold. So a lot of people would get excited to see glittering, golden specks—only to find out what they’d discovered and worked for was actually worthless.” He took both of her hands in his. “But the real gold—the truly precious metal—appeared to be dull in its raw form to most people. Because they didn’t realize what they were looking at. They didn’t appreciate it and got distracted by the glitter.” He paused.

She peered up at him and hoped he saw the admiration she felt for him.

“Too many are looking for the glitter. But I’m looking for the real thing.” Charles went down on one knee. “You are the real thing, Mary Margaret Abbot. And I love you with all my heart. You shine and reflect the True Light, you glitter with beauty, wit, and charm, and underneath it all—you are pure gold. Will you marry me?”

She only had to lean down a few inches to kiss him. And she did it with gusto. When she pulled back, she couldn’t keep a grin from her face. “On one condition?”

“Oh boy. What is it?”

“That we hire someone to work with Uncle Dillard to run the companies here when we are not in Colorado.”

His brow crinkled. “I don’t understand. You don’t want to stay?”

She shook her head. “At least not right now. I’d like to go back to Alaska and have a real funeral for Father. But I want it to be more of a celebration of his life, and a celebration of our new life together. And then we can run the mines up there for a while. I can watch you work. Learn all about it. That kind of thing.” With a wink, she tugged him toward the door. “It could be an extended honeymoon, an adventure.”

“Haven’t we been on enough adventures already? Where you almost died?”

Laughter bubbled up out of her, and she waved his comment away. “It’ll be fun. Besides, we’ll be together, and that’s all that matters.”

He stopped and pulled her back into his arms. Kissed her nose. “I love you, Mary Margaret.”

“I love you, too. But how many times do I have to tell you … just call me Martin.”