Undercover Bride (34 page)

“Samson?”

“Yeah, you know, the hairy man in the Bible.” In an effort to work her badge in position, she twisted her wrists until tears sprang into her eyes.

“Yeah, well, ole hairy didn’t have to contend with a former Andersonville prisoner.”

Holding the badge between two fingers she sawed back and forth. She could hardly move her hands, so she didn’t expect to see much progress. At least not for a while.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“We learned a trick or two from our rebel guards about tying people up.”

“Rikker was the real expert. I just wish he was here.” Just thinking of her partner filled her with such pain she could hardly breathe. “He always knew how to escape.”

She felt Garrett jerk and heard his intake of breath. “Maggie, I’m sorry about Greenwood.”

She blinked away the tears, and anger ripped through her. This was supposed to be a simple, routine job. Now she’d lost the best partner and friend she’d ever had and ever hoped to have.

She shook her head. Mustn’t think about that. There would be time enough later to grieve. Right now she had to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Of all the women I could have chosen as a bride,” Garrett said, as if talking to himself.

Her hand stilled. “How many women answered your ad?”

“I don’t know. A few dozen.”

She moistened her lips. “Why did you pick me?”

“I liked your handwriting,” he said, his voice hoarse.

For some reason his answer affected her deeply. The principal had dictated each carefully chosen word, but it was her own hand that caught Garrett’s attention.

Gripping the shield until her fingers ached, she continued sawing. “How’d Cotton spring you from jail?”

“With a gun. He kept muttering something about money. I didn’t know what he was talking about. But then he saw where the earth had been turned over and was convinced that I had buried it. Where do you suppose he got a cockamamie idea like that?”

She blew out her breath. “I’m afraid he got it from Rikker and me. We were trying to force his hand.”

“You forced his hand all right.”

“Why don’t you just come out and say it? You blame me for everything that happened.” She certainly blamed herself.

“I’m just as much to blame,” he said quietly.

She stilled. “Why do you say that?”

“When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And you—”

Her vision blurred with tears, but still she resumed sawing. She’d played her part well—too well. And they both fell into the trap she’d set.
Oh, God, where are You? Why do You feel so far away? Do You blame me, too?

She paused to rest her sore fingers. “I never meant for any of this to happen,” she whispered.

“Yeah, you did. You wanted to prove that I did the things they say. Prove me guilty.”

“You’re wrong.” She tightened her grip on her shield. “From the moment I set eyes on you, I wanted to prove you innocent.”

“Why?”

“Because…” There were so many reasons why, it was impossible to choose just one. Never had she met a man quite like him. Not only was he the kindest man she’d ever known, her body fairly tingled whenever he walked into the room, and he was the reason she smiled in her dreams.

“Because of the children,” she said aloud. Admitting the real reason would only result in more rejection. Forcing herself to breathe beneath the confines of the rope, she suddenly remembered something.
Toby!

Panicky now, she frantically sawed, but with little progress. At this rate it could take all night.

She felt something snap and, looking over her shoulder, saw Garrett rise out of his chair.

Her mouth fell open. “How’d you do that? How did you get free?”

“You’d be amazed what you can learn in prison if you put your mind to it.” He lifted a stocking foot. “Fortunately, Cotton forgot to remove my shoes before he tied me up.” Garrett wore the easy slip-off type, an advantage over her high-button boots, and had slipped his feet right out of his shoes and then the ropes.

“Speaking of shoes, would you mind reaching into my boot for my knife?”

He dropped on one knee in front of her and reached into the shaft of her boot. The heat of his fingers reached all the way down to her toes. Knife in hand, his eyes held hers for a moment before cutting her free.

“Now what?” he asked.

She rubbed her sore wrists, but before she could answer, she heard something. Someone was coming. Garrett heard it, too, and he held a finger to his mouth.

Ever so quietly she rose from the chair and grabbed the poker from the fireplace. Thus armed, she flung herself against the wall separating the parlor from the kitchen and held her breath.

T
oby burst out of the kitchen. “Pa!” He cleared the distance in an instant and threw himself in his father’s arms.

More footsteps and a voice entered the room first. “You can put the weapon down, Duffy.”

She dropped the poker. “Rikker?”

He stepped through the doorway and grinned. “The one and only.”

Without thinking, she flung her arms around his grizzly neck.

“Whoa,” Rikker said, looking embarrassed. She pulled away, blubbering like a kid whose candy had been stolen.

Rikker handed her a handkerchief. “Sorry to be late for the party,” he said. “I would have gotten here sooner, but I was detained.”

She wiped her tears away. “Cotton said you were dead.”

He raised a bushy eyebrow. “You didn’t fall for that old trick, did you?”

“Of course not,” she said with a sniffle. She should have known. Telling a hostage a loved one was dead was one way to ensure compliance. “So where were you?”

“Visiting the stars,” he said. “Someone hit me over the head, but fortunately your friend Linc found me. I’d have gotten here sooner, but I met Cotton coming the other way.”

“You met Cotton?” Garrett asked.

“I did, and I gave him two choices. Either turn himself in like a gentleman or die like a coward. Unfortunately, the man had no sense of pride.”

“This generation of criminals never does,” she said.

According to Pinkerton files, no crime was more hazardous than holdup robberies; two-thirds of those engaging in such crimes died with their boots on. Too bad Cotton failed to beat the odds. Now they might never learn the name of his partner.

“Looks like he took a bit of you with him,” she said. Rikker had a nasty-looking lump on his forehead.

He touched his wound and then wiped the blood off his fingertips with a handkerchief. “I owe this to a certain young man who decided to give David from the Bible a bit of competition.”

Garrett stared over his son’s head. “Toby did that?”

Toby pulled out of his father’s arms. “I heard him coming up the ladder, and I thought he was Uncle Charlie.”

“You did good, Toby,” Maggie said. “Especially when you tried to save us from your uncle.” The rock had barely missed Maggie’s head, but it hit Cotton dead center on the chest.

Hand on his son’s shoulder, Garrett stared down at him. “We have you to thank for that?”

Toby nodded, and Garrett broke into a grin. “Well, now. What do you know?” He hugged his son again.

“Do you have to go back to jail, Pa?”

“I don’t know, son.” He leveled a look straight at Maggie.

“Do I?” She glanced at Rikker. “I’m afraid that’s up to the judge.”

Toby pulled out of his father’s arms and grinned at her. “Instead of going to the moon, I’m gonna be a detective just like you and Mr. Greenwood.”

Maggie smiled and ruffled his hair. “That sounds like a good plan,” she said. A hundred percent plan.

T
he next day Maggie took care of a dozen details. A full report had to be sent to Pinkerton headquarters after which she and Rikker met with the sheriff.

Rikker did most of the talking. “I was shadowing Cotton when someone hit me over the head,” he explained.

Sheriff Summerhay still wasn’t happy about working with Pinkerton detectives, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “Do you know who?” he asked.

“Haven’t the foggiest,” Rikker said. “All I know for sure is that it wasn’t Cotton.”

“What I don’t understand,” Summerhay said as Maggie and Rikker rose to leave, “is why Cotton thought there was still money to be found.”

Maggie shot Rikker her best “want to take this?” look.

Rikker slapped his hat onto his head. “Cotton wasn’t playing with a full deck. You might even say he was fifty-nine seconds short of a minute.”

He grabbed Maggie by the arm. “Let’s go and let the sheriff continue his fine and noble work.”

“Fine and noble?” she said as they stepped away from the building.

“Would you rather I said what I was really thinking?” He gave her a sideways glance and rolled his eyes upward. “Oh no, don’t tell me.”

She wrapped her arm around his. “I have a theory.”

He sighed. “Of course you do.”

“Hear me out.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Let’s suppose that Aunt Hetty’s friend, Mr. Dinwiddie, was Cotton’s partner.”

“So we’re still stuck on Dinwiddie, are we?”

“I can’t get past the timing. He’s lived in town for years but only recently decided to cozy up to Garrett’s aunt.” Aunt Hetty insisted it was the miracle of the moving cross, but then she had no way of knowing that the Holy Spirit got a little help from Toby.

“You’re forgetting one important aspect of this case. The witness described the man as being at least six feet tall and having a scar. Dinwiddie barely makes it to five foot five, and the only thing he wears on his face are his sixty-something years.”

“Well, he’s guilty of something,” she said stubbornly. Strange as it might seem, she had grown fond of Aunt Hetty and didn’t want to see her get hurt. “I intend to find out what it is.”

Linc wasn’t home when Maggie stopped at his house to thank him for helping Rikker. Instead, Mrs. Higginbottom opened the door to her knock.

“What are you doing here?” Maggie asked, surprised. “And where’s Linc?” He wasn’t at his usual corner selling newspapers.

“He’s at school.”

Maggie couldn’t believe her ears. “Really? That’s great news, but how?”

His grandmother stepped into the room, and Maggie hardly recognized her. Her hair was combed back into a neat bun and she wore a clean frock. Best of all, her faded blue eyes looked focused and clear.

“I told him that my momma didn’t raise no stupid child, and neither would I,” Linc’s grandmother said.

Maggie couldn’t get over the difference in her appearance. “You look wonderful.”

Mrs. Higginbottom lowered her voice to a whisper. “The doctor said she was suffering from malnutrition and dehydration. That’s why she was acting so crazy.” Aloud she addressed her next comments to Linc’s grandmother. “I better be going. If you like, I can pick Linc up on Sunday on the way to church. You can come, too, if you like.”

The older woman looked pleased, but still she hesitated. “We don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother,” Mrs. Higginbottom assured her. “I’ll be here at nine.”

Maggie followed Mrs. Higginbottom outside. “I can’t believe the difference in her. She looks and acts like a totally new woman.”

“She still has her moments, but don’t we all?”

Maggie smiled. “I appreciate your watching over Linc. He’s a good boy. He just needs some guidance.”

The woman patted her on the arm. “Don’t you worry none about Linc. The church’s Ladies Auxiliary decided to adopt him. Not officially, of course, but you know what I mean. We’ll see that he and his granny are well taken care of.” She lowered her voice. “If you ask me, that’s what that miracle with the moving cross was all about. Our church had become little more than a social club, and God decided to shake things up.”

Maggie smiled. “I guess He did that all right.” God had worked through Toby’s mischievous ways to change an entire church. Now
that
was a miracle.

“I heard you’re leaving,” Mrs. Higginbottom said.

“Yes. My job here is done.”

“Too bad. Hetty sure did have her mind set on that big wedding. Nothing she’d like better than to see her nephew happily wed.”

“Maybe one day she’ll get her wish,” Maggie said and felt her spirits drop. Some lucky woman was bound to win Garrett’s heart. She only wished that woman was her.

Mrs. Higginbottom nodded and started down the walkway. “Maybe so. You just never know what the good Lord has in mind, do you?”