A Changed Agent (10 page)

Will sat up tall in the saddle and took in the deserted house and barn. This had to be the place Lily had told him about. Dismounting, he led the horse along while he checked around. He came across more pieces of fallen siding, a broken wagon wheel, and what looked to be the remains of a woodshed. He knelt beside a set of animal tracks. Rubbing his hand over the indentations, he thought they could be from a deer. He’d seen small herds of them out in the back fields on the outskirts of town.

Standing, he looked toward the old homestead. The nape of his neck itched. Will couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary here. And yet his senses were telling him something different. The horse looked at him as if to ask, “Are we done here?”

Leading the horse out into the open, Will walked up an overgrown pathway that stopped at the remains of a front porch. An old hitching post listed to one side near the bottom step. Will looped the reins around the post and left the horse. A thick forsythia bush hid half of the bottom step. Will picked his way around it. Climbing along the edge of a rickety board, he stepped up onto the porch.

He jiggled the handle on the front door, surprised when it gave way. Pushing the door halfway open, he looked through the shaft of light into what used to be a hallway. Dust motes floated through the musty air. He caught the scent of old decay. Off to his right stood a staircase covered in cobwebs. Wandering over to the base of it, he noticed that none of the webs had been disturbed. Their wispy tendrils wove unbroken over the steps connecting to the newel post.

Turning away from there, he walked along the opposite wall until he found a doorway. Looking inside what appeared to be some sort of a sitting room, he saw an old ladder-back chair. The caned seat had long ago been worn through. From the light slanting through the boarded-up windows, he could see a thick layer of dust covering the floorboards. A trail of mouse tracks meandered around the walls of the room.

Satisfied there were no signs of human life here, he poked his head into two more rooms. At the back of the house he found a room with a low, slanted ceiling. A rusty cook
stove took up half of one wall. Next to that was a door that he assumed led to the backyard. But that was not what caught and held his attention. Moving to the stove, he knelt on the hard-packed dirt floor to inspect a lopsided stack of wood. The pieces of wood weren’t logs at all. They were sticks and twig branches that looked as if they might have been collected from the surrounding woods.

There wasn’t a cobweb or speck of dust on them. He put his hand on the front of the stove. It was ice cold to his touch. He ran his fingers over the dirt floor, trying to find any sign that someone had been here recently. It was hard to discern whether the indents he felt were from a boot or just another sign of the aging property. Standing up, he went out the back door. Slowly he walked around the outside of the house, coming full circle back to the hitching post.

The mare nickered, pawing her front hoof along the ground.

Will patted her side. “I know you’re ready to get moving. I’ve got one more thing to check on.”

He repeated his earlier movements around the perimeter of the barn. Here and there he knelt down for a closer look at the patterns in the hard earth. Shaking his head, he finally came back around to the front of the barn, satisfied that no one had been here in a while. Maybe the wood pile in the house had been gathered by a vagrant.

He gave one last look around, thinking that maybe whoever had been here had moved on a long time ago. Even if that were the case, Will decided he would come back out here in a few days to check on things. Going back to the mare, he released her from the hitching post and swung up into the saddle, turning the horse toward town.

From the back of the barn, Virgil waited for the man to ride off the property. A trickle of sweat dripped off his forehead. Stepping out from behind the stack of hay bales, he crept to the front of the barn. Pulling back one of the doors, he stepped outside. That man had come out of the hills. Virgil didn’t know who he was. But one thing was for certain: the way he looked around, kneeling to check the tracks on the ground—snooping inside the house—he moved like a lawman.

Stepping out into the shadows, Virgil walked to the house—the house where he’d been born and raised by his God-fearing parents, gone nigh on five years now.

Careful not to make any new tracks, he stepped inside the footprints the man had left behind. He entered the back door. His gaze fell on the wood he’d collected earlier. Now that the man had been poking about, Virgil couldn’t risk having a fire in the cook
stove.

Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a hunk of the hardtack. He sat cross-legged on the floor with his back up against the wall. Sticking the shoe leather–like substance between his teeth, he tore into it like a starved animal.

He stuck his tongue out, running it along the edge of his lip, feeling the ridge of the cut he had gotten last week. The night he’d been in a fight in the Albany alleyway was still fresh in his mind. It’s why he’d come back to the Adirondacks. Time was running out.

He’d been evicted from the prestigious Saint Anthony Hotel on State Street three weeks back for failure to pay his bill.

His instincts, what remained of them, had told him to keep his newfound secret stash hidden away. So he’d left the hotel, finding refuge in a hideous excuse for a rooming house, the stash secured. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d come by these reserves. A few months back he had stumbled upon a drunken hobo in a railroad boxcar he was traveling in. The fool had bandied about the fact that he’d come upon some stolen railroad bonds. Virgil had waited for the man to pass out and then fleeced him of the bonds. They were precious pieces of paper, and he refused to use them to pay for something as unworthy as simple room and board. He wanted to keep them for a bigger game. Except when he’d found and played the bigger game, he hadn’t been prepared.

Because he’d heard the rumblings and rumors about how those bonds were being hunted down by lawmen and bounty hunters alike, Virgil knew he had to hide them until there came a time to either sell them to another disreputable person or use them in a card game. He’d become aware that the Pinkerton Detective Agency had been hired to locate the bonds and knew time was of the essence. And then, in what he could only call divine providence, he’d run into his former fiancée, Elsie Mitchell.

Elsie may have still harbored resentment toward him for the way he’d jilted her, but she also had a weakness to forgive those less fortunate. His trust in that sent him to her the very next day, asking her to take the envelope where he’d carefully sealed the bonds.

If anyone had been following him over the past decade, they could have foreseen his downfall. From the time he’d been a young lad pitching coins in the school yard, Virgil had loved the feel of taking a chance. No matter what the stakes, what the cost, you could count him in the game.

Years ago when his mother had learned of his sins, she’d quoted from the Bible. “No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”

Virgil had chosen the latter.

Staring into the fading daylight, he started planning his next move. He didn’t know whether Elsie had discovered what she’d been keeping for him. What if she knew and decided to give the bonds to the authorities? What if his creditors were closing in? His head started to ache. He shivered. Laying himself on the floor, he curled up, trying to find any warmth he could. He looked at the cold stove, wishing he could have a fire. He closed his eyes and thought about getting the bonds back.

The walls were closing in on him. He shivered again, drifting off.

Chapter Nine

Elsie rolled over in her bed, blinking remnants of sleep from her eyes. Underneath the edges of the drawn curtains, the soft pink glow of dawn seeped into the bedroom. Snuggling deeper beneath her quilt, Elsie wiggled her toes, wondering what had awakened her at this hour on a Saturday. The one day of the week when she didn’t have to be up at the crack of dawn, and here she was wide awake. Her nose twitched. She smelled coffee. Pushing the covers aside, she sat on the edge of the bed. She heard the sounds of footsteps moving about the kitchen. Then came the distinct sound of the motion of the sink pump handle. A steady stream of water splashed against the bottom of the sink.

Poking her feet under the bed, she located her slippers. Sticking her feet in them, she stood up, took her robe off the bed post, put it on, and quickly made her way to the door. Cinching the belt securely around her waist, she slowly opened the door and peered out.

“Will! You’re home!” Surprise and relief flooded through her. Stepping into the kitchen, she noticed his pants were covered in dried mud. He stood in stocking feet. She could only imagine that he’d left a pair of equally muddy boots outside.

He turned around. “Elsie! Good morning. I’m sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet.”

The room was shadowed in the early light of day. Elsie quickly made her way to the table. Taking the globe off a lantern, she lit the wick. “Are you hungry? I could make you some eggs and bacon.”

She bustled about the room, gathering up two place settings. “The children collected the eggs from my mother’s henhouse. My father has offered up a portion of his flock to us. We were out there for dinner this past Sunday. They love the farm; it’s so different from living here in town. You should have seen Minnie running after those hens! I think she could be starting to trust others a bit more.”

“Elsie?”

She stopped moving and looked across the room at him. “Yes, Will.”

“You’re rambling.”

“I’m sorry. You’ve been gone so long, and there’s so much to catch you up on.” She went to the stove to start the kettle for her tea. “The children have missed you something fierce.”

She picked up her teacup and saucer, bringing the set to the table. Turning around, she watched Will wash his hands and then splash water on his face. Joining him at the sink, she grabbed a towel from the rack and handed it to him. Their fingers touched. Beside her, Will stilled. He gathered her hands inside his and gently gave them a squeeze. He looked as if he had something important to tell her. Instead, he released his hold and she dropped her hands to her side.

Wiping his face and hands dry, he hung the towel up, turning to face her again. “I’m sorry about the children.”

Elsie studied his face, noticing right away the week’s growth of beard covering his strong jawline. Fine lines fanned out along the edges of his dark eyes. He looked tired.

“They’ve been through so much over the past few months. They need continuity. They need to see you more than once or twice a week.” Softening her voice, she added, “They think of you as a parent, Will.”

Will’s face paled. For a fleeting moment Elsie saw something in his eyes. Panic or fear? She couldn’t tell.
“Will,”
she raised her voice. “You had to have known they were beginning to feel this way.”

He pushed away from the sink and walked over to the stove. Taking one of the tin cups from the shelf, he poured the coffee into it. His shoulders moved up and down as he took in and released a deep breath.

“I’m doing the best I can.”

Elsie knew he was working hard to make a better life for Harry and Minnie. Still, they needed more than food on the table and a roof over their heads. They deserved to feel as loved as they did when their parents were alive.

She shook her head at him. “I don’t understand how you can keep holding them at arm’s length.”

“I’m trying, Elsie. Isn’t that enough?”

She bit her lower lip in frustration. She knew he meant well, but sometimes, especially where children were involved, a person had to make a firm commitment to doing the right thing. She would give him a little more time to see how things ought to be. Eventually, William Benton would need to figure out where Harry and Minnie fit in his life.

He took his place at the head of the table. “I’m here right now.”

“For how long?”

He took a sip of coffee and replied, “I don’t have to go back up to the camp for a few days.”

That wasn’t the answer she’d hoped for. But if that was all he could commit to right now, then it would have to do. “Minnie and Harry will be happy to find you here when they wake up.”

They didn’t have to wait long for the children to join them. Harry came downstairs first. Entering the kitchen, he rushed to Will’s side.

“Uncle Will! You’re home! You’re home,” he chanted, running in circles behind Will’s chair. “I prayed last night that you would come home! And here you are.”

Elsie laughed. “Harry, you’re making us dizzy with all of your running around.”

Will surprised her by grabbing Harry up in a bear hug. She hoped this meant he could see their need. Snuggling his nose alongside Harry’s neck, Will said, “I missed you, too, Harry.” Harry leaned against him, smiling like he’d just gotten the best gift a boy could ask for.

“Harry, sit down next to your uncle. Is your sister awake?”

He shook his head. “I think she’s still sleeping.”

“I’m going to go check on her.”

Before Elsie could move, she caught Will tilting his head in the direction of the stairs. Elsie walked over to find Minnie standing on the last step.

“Well, good morning, Minnie.” Elsie reached for her hand. Minnie slid hers into Elsie’s. They walked into the kitchen. Elsie said, “Your uncle Will is home.”

Minnie let go of her hand and walked over to Will. She stopped just short of where he sat. She cast a lopsided smile up at him and then sat in her chair. Elsie dared to meet Will’s gaze. His face softened. Elsie hoped he felt the same way she did. Happy and content. These children brought light into their lives . . . into his life. Will wouldn’t always have her as his buffer between the children. He needed to let them into his heart.

Tying on an apron, Elsie set about making breakfast. While the bacon sizzled in a pan on the back burner, Elsie broke half a dozen eggs into a bowl. Picking up a wooden spoon, she broke the yolks. Stirring the eggs together, she said, “I have a meeting with the Lord’s Acre Picnic committee today. Perhaps, Harry and Minnie, you’d like to stay here with your uncle while I’m gone.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Will said.

Elsie had half expected him to say no. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“Then it’s settled.” Dishing the eggs and bacon onto plates, she set them on the table.

“What’s this Lord’s Acre Picnic?”

She brightened at his interest. “The picnic is an annual event, held the last Sunday in June. Everyone in the town comes. After our worship service, we gather outside for a large potluck. There’s everything from turkey to apple dumplings. We set all the food out on long tables. There are games for the children. And someone always starts up with a bit of music. I’ve never missed one.”

“Sounds like a good time to me.”

“I’m glad you think so, because we’ll need plenty of help setting up. I’ll be sure and put your name on that list.”

“Elsie,” he said in a warning tone. “You know I can’t plan that far ahead.”

Ignoring him, she ate her breakfast. After they finished, Elsie accepted Will’s offer to clear the table. She washed up and changed, and realizing time was getting on, she rushed to help Minnie and Harry get dressed. Coming back downstairs, she joined Will on the front porch.

“The meeting should take only a few hours.”

“Don’t worry.”

She frowned, even though she knew they would be all right without her. “I’m not worried. I think you’ll be fine.”

Will stepped in front of her. Brushing his finger lightly down her nose, he said, “Oh, you’re worried. I can tell because you’re crinkling up your nose.”

“I don’t crinkle my nose.” She brushed aside his hand.

Will let out a laugh, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “If you say so.”

Harry skipped down the front walkway with Minnie trotting along behind him. Elsie started to call out to the children to not go beyond the gate when she heard a commotion on the street.

“Clear out of the way!” A man shouted. “There’s a runaway horse!”

Elsie and Will both ran back, but Minnie had already stepped out into the road. The horse charged toward her.

“Minnie!” Elsie screamed. Harry started after his sister, but grabbing his arm, Elsie pulled him to the side of the road. He struggled against her, trying to break free so he could go save his sister. Elsie held on to him for dear life.

Will pushed past them, running through the gate and into the road. He reached out and snatched Minnie right up off her feet, holding her fast against his chest. The beast galloped past, coming within inches of them, its hide covered in sweat and foam frothing at its mouth.

A man from the livery ran past them, shouting and waving his arms above his head. He called for the horse to stop. Eventually, another man ran out into the roadway, caught hold of one of the reins, and pulled the horse to a halt.

By now a few of the shopkeepers and some townsfolk had stopped to see what all the commotion was about. The man who’d been chasing the horse came over to them.

“I’m so sorry. The horse broke free while I was trying to get a stone out of one of his shoes.” Looking at Minnie and Harry, he asked, “Are the children all right?”

Minnie squirmed against him. Will just held on tighter. Not ready to let her go.

“We’re all okay.” His voice came out sounding gravelly. He swallowed down his emotions. “You’d best get that stallion back to the livery.”

The man apologized again and then headed off. Over the top of Minnie’s head, Will caught sight of Elsie and Harry. In two quick strides he went to them. Without thinking, with his free arm he pulled Elsie to his side. She leaned into him.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

“I was so frightened!” Her voice came out in a whisper.

“Me, too.” Looking down at her, Will saw his fear reflected in the depths of her violet eyes. Never in his wildest thoughts could he have imagined the feeling of fear that tore through him when he’d seen that horse bearing down on Minnie. It was as if time had stood still, and for one horrible moment he thought this sweet little girl would be taken from them. He knew Elsie didn’t think he had strong feelings for these children, but he did. The close call had proved one thing: Will would do anything for Harry and Minnie.

Elsie blinked up at him. “Thank you.”

Pulling her closer, he whispered, “You’re welcome.”

The heat of her body seeped through her cloak, warming him. Will’s heartbeat quickened. Between them the children squirmed.

Elsie rested a hand on Minnie’s back as if to reassure herself one more time that the child would be fine. She took a small step back, moving out of Will’s embrace.

Minnie still had her arms wrapped firmly around his neck. She surprised him when she plunked a wet kiss on his cheek. Gently, he set her on the ground. Squatting down to her eye level, he said, “You are one brave little girl.”

Minnie nodded.

He ran his hands over her shoulders and arms just to be sure she was really unharmed. Satisfied, he stood up. He watched Minnie go off to join her brother in the front yard. Then he looked at Elsie, who had been watching him the whole time. His hands shook. He shoved them in his pants pockets and gave her a crooked smile.

He asked, “Are you all right?”

She put a hand over her heart. “I think I had the life scared right out of me.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I’m glad. Because now I know one thing for certain.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, even though he knew exactly what she was going to say.

“You can’t deny your feelings for your niece and nephew.”

Turning, he rested his elbows on the gate, watching Harry and Minnie play on the walkway. He had never denied he had feelings, but until now he’d had no idea how deeply they ran. Keeping his back to the schoolteacher, he said, “I would have done that for any child.”

“William Benton, why are you being so stubborn?”

The wind kicked up again, sending a flurry of old dried leaves into the air. He wouldn’t take her bait, not today. Not after what had just happened.

And yes, he could be as stubborn as the day was long. Just to prove it, he asked, “Don’t you have a meeting you need to be getting to?”

He heard her huff.

“If you are quite certain that you will be all right, then I will take my leave.”

“We’ll be fine. And don’t worry, I won’t let them play anywhere near this roadway.”

“I know you will keep them safe.”

Thinking he’d been too hard on her, Will looked over his shoulder at her, set on telling her to have a good meeting, but she’d already walked out of hearing distance.