A Changed Agent (7 page)

Will pondered his statement. He’d have to be extra careful around Mr. Moore.

“You going to be heading up to Oliver’s lumber camp anytime soon?”

“As soon as I have a full crew,” Will embellished. “I was hoping some of the men might have arrived by now.”

“Nope. Only people who got off were city people heading up to the Great Camps. They arrive here in their fancy clothes, thinking there will be coaches taking them. The one camp only sends down a buckboard, and it’s not even covered! The men don’t seem to mind the elements. The women, they complain and squawk like a bunch of chickens in an overcrowded henhouse.”

Tipping his hat back, Will studied the man. “You sure you didn’t see anyone who might not have been going up to the resort?”

“Not a one.” He pushed up from the chair. Standing in front of Will, he said, “Tell John his supply list will be filled by day’s end tomorrow.”

Just because Mr. Moore hadn’t seen anyone unusual get off the last train didn’t mean the person Will was looking for hadn’t come into town on horseback. Though remembering the trip up from Albany, he imagined coming here by horse would be a long, tiring trip.

Will made his way down to the livery, and after asking the same questions, he discovered there had been no odd horses boarded there in recent days. He went back to the house to wait for the children and Miss Mitchell.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him he had to get the fire in the stove lit. He hoped Miss Mitchell was true to her word about cooking up a proper meal. Right now he felt as starved as a bear coming out of hibernation. The cinnamon roll had barely filled him.

Grabbing an armload of wood, he carried the cut-up logs through the back door into the kitchen. Finding some leftover kindling, he began to build up a decent fire. Once he felt certain the fire would take, he washed up at the sink and then headed into the front parlor. Standing in the doorway, he put his hands on his hips, surveying the mess. No point in procrastinating.

To start, he piled the tossed clothing back into the children’s trunk, closed the latch, stood, and hefted it over his shoulder. Going upstairs, he deposited it in the first bedroom off to the left. He knew full well that this was not where Harry and Minnie wished to be; however, he needed to get a solid night’s sleep. He hoped that Miss Mitchell would be able to convince them to spend the night here.

Leaving the trunk at the foot of the bed, he went back downstairs, and after setting his things right, hauled his trunk up to the bedroom across the hall from the children’s.

The bed linens sat in a rumpled heap in the middle of the mattress. Will tugged and smoothed the covers as best he could. He had just tossed the pillow on top of the blankets when he heard voices and footsteps coming up the front walkway.

Closing the bedroom door behind him, Will headed downstairs to greet Harry, Minnie, and Miss Mitchell.

Will stood on the threshold, taking in the sight before him. Harry led the way, with Minnie holding on to Miss Mitchell’s hand and walking at a slower pace behind him. They looked like the perfect family returning home after a day of school and work. Normalcy, something Will hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He caught the smile Miss Mitchell gave the little girl, and for one brief moment he wished the look had been directed at him. Instead, when she lifted her gaze to meet his, she gave him a more cautious half smile.

She had to be feeling much as he was, wary of this new living arrangement. He’d no doubt the children would thrive under her care.

“Uncle Will! We’re home!” Harry rushed past him into the house. “Miss Mitchell promised us a snack if we helped her clean up the classroom.”

Will took the heavy book from her hand, saying, “I take it Harry was a great help.”

“He erased all the chalk from the chalkboard and made sure all the window shades were drawn. I’d say he was a big help.”

Will stepped aside to let her enter the house ahead of him. Blowing out a breath, he wondered what she was thinking of the place now that she’d be living here.

Stepping over the boy’s jacket that had been tossed in a heap on the floor, she carefully took her coat off and hung it on the peg near the door.

“Harry, could you come back here?”

Poking his head out from the kitchen, Harry answered her with his mouth half-full of a sugar cookie. “What?”

“Where did you find that cookie?” Will wanted to know.

“In the basket where Miss Mitchell said they would be.”

“Oh.” It never occurred to him to look inside the basket. Perhaps if he’d done that earlier, he wouldn’t be standing here with hunger threatening to eat away his stomach lining.

“We don’t talk with our mouths full, Harry. And I need you to please come hang your coat on the hook where it belongs when you’re not wearing it. And then we are going to talk about some rules that everyone will need to abide by.”

Remembering all the ones she’d imparted to him yesterday, Will didn’t think he could take any more of her rules. He frowned at her. Harry came into the room and stood dutifully before Miss Mitchell.

“Harry. First things first. When you come into the house, please wipe your feet and then
hang
up your coat and hat.” Folding her arms, she waited while Harry picked up his coat and hat and then, standing on tiptoes, stretched his arms, attempting to reach the hook high above his head.

Taking the things from him, she said, “Your uncle can install some lower hooks for you and Minnie to use.”

Will added the item to the mental list he’d been keeping.

“And Harry, I know you don’t need to be reminded to wash your hands before touching any food.”

Pushing his hands into his front pockets, Harry nodded.

Helping Minnie off with her coat and bonnet, she then took off her own overcoat and hung everything up. Smoothing down the front of her dress, she walked into the kitchen and began unloading the basket her father had left this morning.

“Miss Mitchell?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“You said we had to wash our hands before we handled any food.”

Cocking her head, she let out a little laugh. Then she reached out and rumpled his hair. “You’re absolutely correct. Thank you for reminding me.”

After she completed that task, she set about cooking the best meal Will had had in months, possibly even years.

A roasted chicken, compliments of her mother, mashed potatoes, and carrots graced the tabletop, along with thick slices of bread from the loaf he’d purchased at the bakeshop. As Will sat there in the glow of lamplight, finishing up the last of the meal, he was reminded of Miss Amy telling him about her friend’s breakup. Watching Elsie with the children and seeing how at ease she was in the kitchen caused Will to wonder what had been wrong with the man who, according to Miss Amy, had broken Elsie’s heart. And these observations didn’t even take into account that the young woman was pretty. She didn’t have any pockmarks, her hair was shiny, and her eyes lit up every time she looked at Harry and Minnie. A man couldn’t ask for much more than that in a woman.

“Mr. Benton? Is there something wrong?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been staring at me for several minutes now. I thought maybe I had something on my face.”

“No. You’re fine.” Embarrassed that she’d caught him, Will scraped his chair back and stood. “I’ll bring in some more firewood. I need to light the fire in the parlor stove in your apartment.”

“Thank you.” Rising from her chair, she proceeded to clear the table.

Will left her and went to fetch the wood. On his way out to the side yard, he heard her giving soft instructions to the children. Apparently, they had some schoolwork to tend to. Once out in the fresh air, he went to the wood pile, looking up when a shadow crossed his path.

Chapter Seven

Will reached around to rest his hand on the butt of his pistol.

“Evening, Will.”

Recognizing John Oliver’s voice, Will relaxed. “Evening.” He joined the man by the large oak tree.

“I was just out for my evening walk and wanted to see how you and the family were settling in.”

Doubting that the man had simply decided to take an evening stroll, Will replied, “We’re fine.”

“Good. Did you learn anything at the saloon?”

“I found Lily Handland. I didn’t know you were bringing her in on this assignment.”

John shrugged. “She’s between jobs.”

“Well, she’s keeping an eye on things. Promised to let me know if anyone of interest comes in.” Pushing a hand through his hair, he added, “I don’t need to be checked up on.”

“This is a small town. Word gets out when there’s a stranger about. And right now you’re still considered one of those. Didn’t help matters that Miss Mitchell came upon you there.”

Will hoped to be able to blend in. He certainly wasn’t used to other people knowing his whereabouts. It looked like he’d have a lot of adjusting to do—first having Harry and Minnie thrust upon him, then Miss Mitchell, and now being under the watchful eye of John Oliver. How was he supposed to get this job finished with so many people in the way?

“I assure you I can do this job, Agent Oliver.” Will wasn’t used to defending himself. It didn’t sit well with him that his superior might not trust him. He knew the other agents wanted to find the bond thief just as much as he did. Will had to focus his attention. It gnawed at him that this might be the one job he wouldn’t be able to see through to the end.

“Do you need anything for the house?” John asked.

“No. The house is in good condition for not having been lived in for all those months.”

“I’m glad the property is suitable to you and your family.” Pulling his collar up against his neck, John turned his back to the cold breeze coming down from the mountains. “I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. We can discuss what I’ll be needing you to do at the lumberyard.”

Shivering at the chill in the air, Will said, “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

“See you tomorrow.” With those words the man turned, walking off into the darkness.

Elsie dried off the last plate. She pulled the curtain aside, looking out into the dusk-filled yard, wondering what could be keeping Mr. Benton. He’d been gone a long time. She could see the woodpile and the lantern sitting on one end of it, casting shadows along the pathway. She rose up on her toes to get a better look out the window. There was no sign of him.
Where had that man gone off to?

“Miss Mitchell, I can’t decipher this problem. Can you help me?”

Setting the dish towel on the edge of the sink, Elsie joined Harry at the table.

“Let me take a look.” She glanced at his crooked handwriting. Checking his numbers, she said, “Ah. Here’s the problem. You forgot to carry the two. See? Now the answer is correct.”

“Thanks.”

The back door opened. Mr. Benton came in, carrying an armful of wood.

“I’ll put this batch by the stove in your quarters.”

“Thank you.”

Minnie, who had been sitting across the table from her brother, yawned, reminding Elsie about the lateness of the hour. Rising from the chair, she gently squeezed Harry’s shoulder.

“You finish up those last two problems while I start getting Minnie ready for bed.”

It seemed Minnie had other plans. Looking up at Elsie, she gave one frantic shake of her head and then propelled herself into her brother, who was just finishing another problem. She bumped into him so hard that Harry’s hand and pencil tore across the paper, ripping the sheet in half. Harry’s face reddened as he let out a shout, pushing her to the floor. Minnie started to whimper. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Elsie bent down, gathering Minnie close. The little girl shook with every breath she took.

Harry shoved his schoolwork aside and said, “I didn’t mean to push her, Miss Mitchell! She ruined my schoolwork.” He stood at the table with his lower lip trembling and his hands fisted by his sides.

Keeping one arm around Minnie, Elsie patted him on the arm and tried her best to soothe him. “Harry, I know you didn’t mean to scare your sister. But what you did was wrong. Boys don’t ever push girls—or anyone, for that matter. Do you understand me?”

He nodded.

“This is a difficult time for everyone. And we all need to work together to help each other. I know it’s hard for you because Minnie needs you right now. Do you think you can apologize to your sister?”

“I’m sorry I pushed you, Minnie.”

Minnie wiped the tears from her eyes and then hugged her brother.

“Thank you, Harry. How about you neaten up your papers?”

While he was occupied, Elsie pondered the best way to handle Minnie’s attachment to her brother. There had to be a way to give Harry the space that he needed and make Minnie feel safe. This situation wasn’t healthy for either of them.

Mr. Benton appeared in the doorway. “Is everything all right in here? I thought I heard someone crying.”

For the benefit of the children, she mustered up a halfhearted smile. “We’re fine. Just a little mishap, that’s all.”

Minnie stood uncertain between them. Elsie dared to smooth a few loose strands of hair from her face. When Minnie didn’t pull away, she took that as a good sign. Elsie wanted to tell her that everything would be better one day soon. She wanted Minnie to see that she could put trust in her . . . that she’d be safe and cared for. Every time she thought about what these children had suffered, she wondered anew at their daily strength.

Elsie said to Minnie, “Why don’t we get your pinafore off so I can freshen it up for tomorrow?”

Minnie let her help remove the garment and watched her from a safe distance as she took it to the sink and blotted a few spots with a damp cloth. Satisfied that she’d attended to the worst of the day’s wear, she draped it over the back of one of the chairs by the table.

When Minnie seemed to be fine with that, Elsie decided the best way to handle her might be to simply explain what she needed to do next. “I have a hairbrush in the next room. I can brush your hair if you’d like.”

Minnie gave a slight nod, and Elsie headed into her room to take the hairbrush out of her bag. When she returned, Minnie was still standing next to her brother. Mr. Benton was leaning against the sink, watching the scene with some concern.

Elsie took out Minnie’s braid and then brushed her long, curly hair. Reaching into her pocket, she took out a blue ribbon, pulled Minnie’s hair back, and tied it off.

“There. Doesn’t it feel better to have your hair all brushed out? This is exactly how I do mine every night.”

Minnie heaved out a tired sigh.

“It’s been a long day, hasn’t it? Let’s go on up to your bedroom.” Elsie picked up on her trepidation right away. “Harry, you can come, too.”

“What about my work?”

“I can tell you have a good grasp on the arithmetic. Tomorrow I’ll start you on the next section. But for now, it’s been a long day, so you should come along with us.”

Holding out her hand to him, she caught the sidelong look he sent to his uncle. Poor Harry. One day soon she would make sure he could do things by himself without worrying about his sister. First, though, she had to make Minnie feel safe and loved.

“Do as Miss Mitchell asks, Harry,” Will urged him. Looking at her, he asked, “Do you need me to help?”

“No. We’ll be fine.”

The children dutifully went with her up the staircase. When they made it to the second floor, the children quickly veered off to the room on the right. “No. Your room is over here.” Nodding to the room on the other side of the hallway, she started to lead them there.

“We slept in here last night with Uncle Will.”

“I’m sure that was special because it was your first night in a new place. But your uncle needs his own room, and he’ll be right there if you need him. I’ll be sleeping downstairs in my quarters. You and Minnie are lucky to have this nice room right here.”

Silence filled the narrow hallway. With sagging shoulders, Harry stepped ahead of her into the bedroom. Minnie let out another tired yawn.

“I promise you if you need anything, your uncle or I will be right here.” Mustering up a tired smile, she said, “Now let’s get you settled for the night.”

Elsie knew it would be crucial to get them used to sleeping on their own. Judging from the way Mr. Benton looked this morning, sharing a bed with the youngsters meant he’d given up a good night’s sleep. Best to get everyone into a proper routine right away.

After locating their nightclothes inside the trunk at the foot of the bed, she helped them get ready for the night. Once they were tucked securely between the sheets, two woolen blankets, and a patchwork quilt, she had them say their nightly prayers.

Minnie folded her hands neatly under her chin while Harry said their prayers. “Thank you, Lord, for a good day. Thank you for bringing Miss Mitchell here to take care of us. Amen.”

“That was very nice, Harry.” After dropping a kiss on their foreheads, she started to blow out the bedside lamp.

“Wait! Can you keep the lamp burning? And don’t shut the door.”

Instead of blowing out the lamp, she turned it as low as the flame would go. Then she blew them a final good-night kiss and stepped into the dark hallway.

The tension of the long day settled against her shoulders. She knew her day had not come to an end just yet. There were still lessons to prepare for tomorrow and today’s papers to grade. She waited to be sure the children had settled for the night.

When a few minutes passed with no sound other than that of the night peepers outside the house, Elsie knew it was safe to go back downstairs. Taking hold of the railing, she stepped down the first stair tread. Suddenly, light filled the lower floor.

“I thought you could use some light to find your way.” Mr. Benton stood at the bottom of the staircase, holding the kitchen lantern out in front of him. He held his hand out.

Grateful for his thoughtfulness, Elsie placed her hand in his, stepping down into the parlor. “Thank you.”

“Do you think they’ll stay settled?” he asked, following her into the kitchen.

“I hope so. They’ve had a busy few days.” Now that they were alone, the reality of her decision to take on this job began to sink in. Biting her lower lip, she worked at quelling the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Her fingers still tingled from his touch. She found herself wondering what it might feel like to have his arms around her. Elsie knew she shouldn’t be having such feelings, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. William Benton wanted people to think him a hardened man. But she knew he wasn’t. A hardened man wouldn’t care about seeing to her comfort the way Mr. Benton just did. And a man like that would never let the children sleep with him when they were afraid.

When she decided to take this position, it had been with the intention of helping to care for this man’s niece and nephew. She hadn’t given any thought to the fact that she might have to spend time alone with him, or that being this close to him would evoke these feelings in her. Never one to have regrets, Elsie began to wonder if perhaps she had been a bit rash in making this decision.

Then her gaze fell to the pinafore drying on the chair back. Taking in a quick breath, she offered up a swift prayer for the continued strength to carry on this mission.

When she looked up, it was to find Mr. Benton watching her in much the same unsettling way he had earlier at the meal.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Mr. Benton, you clearly have something on your mind.”

Turning away from her, he offered, “Should I put the kettle on for some tea?”

Gathering up Harry’s and Minnie’s schoolwork, she replied, “Only if you’ll join me.”

“I don’t drink tea.”

“Thank you for remembering that I do.” Thinking his kind gesture meant he was warming to her, she said, “Perhaps you could just sit here. We could talk.”

“About what?”

“How our day went . . . about the children . . . about what you really expect from me.” The last words came out in a whisper, and for a minute Elsie thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her.

“I expect you to care for the children and this household.”

“I understand that. But what about us?”

“I am the children’s uncle and you are their schoolteacher. There is no
us
beyond that.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she refused to let him see how his icy words affected her. Brushing past him, she busied her shaking hands by preparing her tea. “Shouldn’t we try to be friends? I just meant to say it would be nice to talk at the end of each day. I could tell you how the children did at school, and you could talk to me about your work at the lumberyard.”

Her parents always spent the end of the day doing this. Elsie took great comfort in listening to those conversations. She thought perhaps it would be nice to carry on the tradition here in this house.

When the water in the kettle had come to a full boil, she turned the burner off and lifted it from the stove, pouring the steaming water over the tea leaves. Mr. Benton might not care to have this daily conversation, but she did. Surely he cared to know how his niece and nephew were faring. She would simply tell him whether he felt like reciprocating or not.