Читать книгу A Western Christmas Homecoming: Christmas Day Wedding Bells / Snowbound in Big Springs / Christmas with the Outlaw - Kathryn Albright - Страница 12

Alice sank onto the porch swing and lifted a cup of coffee from the tray the marshal set on the railing. “Cream?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Sugar?” Again she refused, then watched him load his cup with two heaping spoonfuls. Aha. The man had a sweet tooth!

He made short work of his apple pie, and when she offered her own piece, he downed that, too. Apparently he hadn’t eaten well recently. Was he married as Mark had asked? Probably not, if his appetite was any indication.

He settled onto the swing beside her, nudged it into motion and stretched his long legs out in front of him. Marshals wore jeans like everybody else, she noted. The only thing that told her he was a marshal was the funny-shaped badge pinned to his leather vest and the gun belt around his waist.

“Alice, is there anything else you want to know about your sister’s death?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “When did she die?”

“She died instantly, as I told you at the sheriff’s office.”

She set her cup onto the saucer with a sharp click. “No, I meant how long ago was it?”

He gave the swing another shove. “Three weeks ago.”

“What took you so long to notify me?”

An expression crossed his face she couldn’t identify. “It’s not just a death, is it?” she said.

His face changed again.

“Is it?” she pursued.

“No, Alice, it’s not. It was a murder. I told you that.”

“Who did it? Do you know? Have they caught him?”

He released a breath and gulped down some coffee. “Nobody has been arrested yet. And no, we don’t know who did it.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated. “Alice, there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“I thought so,” she said. “Your voice gets quiet when you’re hiding something.”

He turned toward her, surprise written all over him. “Well, I... That is...”

She had to smile. “You know, Marshal Logan, people think of a librarian as someone with her nose always buried in a book. Actually, librarians are quite observant.”

“Obviously,” he murmured.

“So I ask you again. What took you almost three weeks to notify me? And why not just send me a telegram?”

“I...wanted to tell you in person.”

“What else is it you need to tell me, Marshal? And who is ‘we’?”

“You sure you want to talk about this so soon after you got the news?”

She bit her lip. “Yes, I am quite sure. Tell me.”

He jolted out of the swing and moved to lean against the porch railing. “‘We’ is the sheriff of Owyhee County, Idaho, and me. And the Pinkerton Agency in Colorado. As for what else I need to tell you, it’s this. The sheriff is stumped. He sent for a US Marshal, and that marshal happens to work for Pinkerton.”

“Why did you really come to see me, Marshal? It wasn’t just to tell me about Dottie, was it?” When he said nothing, she went on.

“Why is Dottie’s death of interest to a US Marshal and the Pinkerton Agency? Exactly why are you here, Marshal Logan?”

Rand stood and began to stack the empty pie plates on the tray. “No, it wasn’t just to tell you about your sister. We... That is, I need your help.”

“I thought so,” she breathed.

“It’s like this, Alice. Your sister lived in this little town that’s mostly a tent community of Idaho miners, and they’re tighter than ticks about sharing any information with outsiders.”

“I would be an outsider,” she pointed out quietly.

“You would be, yes. But we... I...think you might be able to succeed where the sheriff has failed.”

“Why?”

“Because...” He looked everywhere except at her. “Because you’re a woman,” he said at last.

“I see.”

“I tried to talk Pinkerton out of even mentioning it to you. I knew you’d need time to get over the shock, time to grieve. I wired the sheriff in Idaho that I wasn’t going to ask you because it wouldn’t be fair. That you wouldn’t want to do it no matter what.”

Alice took a deep breath. “Right now I would do anything to catch my sister’s murderer.”

Rand stared at her, a proper, delicate-looking girl whose face was still white with shock. My God, a woman could be tougher than he’d ever imagined. Suddenly he didn’t want to go any further with this. She wasn’t ready. She might even get hurt.

Then she surprised him again. “What is ‘it’?” she asked.

Oh, hell, here it comes. She wouldn’t even speak to him after he’d asked what he’d come four hundred miles to ask, much less sit in a porch swing with him. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

“Marshal?” She looked up at him, and all at once he noticed how blue her eyes were, how downright pretty she was.

“Marshal, what is it you need me for? You might as well spit it out before I lose interest,” she said with a soft laugh.

He resumed his place on the swing beside her. “Okay, Alice, here it is. Silver City miners are suspicious of strangers and they’re tight-lipped about everything, especially a killing. But they might open up to a woman. Someone who could work undercover.”

“Work undercover as what?”

“We figure they wouldn’t be suspicious of a, well, of a saloon girl.”

He waited for her cry of outrage. It didn’t come. Instead, she sat motionless beside him, her eyes searching his face.

“A saloon girl,” she echoed. “Do I look like a saloon girl to you?”

“Definitely not,” he said quickly.

“A saloon girl who would wear a low-necked gown and fishnet stockings?”

“Yeah, I reckon so. I know it’s a real far-fetched idea. Pinkerton came up with it as a last-ditch—”

“I’ll do it,” she said calmly.

He almost choked. “What? Alice, are you serious?”

She bit her lip. “Believe me, I have never been more serious in my life.”

“Miss Montgomery... Alice, I have to warn you it could be dangerous. It’s a long, hard trip just getting to Silver City, and a mining camp is a really rough place for a...” He swallowed. “For a librarian.” Unbelievably, he heard himself trying to talk her out of it.

She said nothing, just looked at him with a tired smile.

“Alice, I...”

She pushed the swing into motion. “When do we leave?”

Rand could scarcely believe his ears. Never in a hundred years did he think a woman like Alice would agree to such a scheme. He guessed he had a lot to learn about librarians. “Tomorrow.”

“I have one question for you,” she said. “I won’t go alone. Will you be with me?”

“Yeah, I’ll be with you.”

“Do you promise?”

He blinked. “Well, sure, Alice. You can count on that.”

She nodded and pushed the swing again. “Then it’s settled. I will be ready in the morning.”

He managed not to let his mouth fall open. After a long minute he risked his final question. “Now I have something else to ask you.”

She sent him an expectant look and waited.

Rand watched her face and crossed his fingers.

“Can you sing?”