Kitabı oku: «Romancing The Runaway Bride»

Chapter One

Cowboy Creek, Kansas June 1869

There was a blindfolded woman in the boardinghouse kitchen.

Adam Halloway’s training kicked in. He reached for his gun out of habit, only to come up empty. His gun belt and Pinkerton detective badge were tucked away in his saddlebags, where they’d stay for the duration of this investigation.

He scanned the spacious room. It looked like an average kitchen with the usual equipment. Sunlight streamed through filmy lace curtains, painting the bulky working table and floorboards in innocent light. No evil villains lurked in the corners.

His narrowed gaze returned to the woman and made a quick assessment of her appearance. Short of stature, brunette, young. How young was impossible to say with part of her face hidden by a swath of black material. Her posture didn’t scream distress.

He finally noticed the twin saucers of unfrosted cake on the table in front of her. Bowls of assorted sizes littered the far end, and baking tins crowded the hulking stove behind her. With one foot in the kitchen and one in the hallway, he watched as she lifted a bite to her mouth and chewed. A pleat furrowed her brow. She cocked her head to the right. Chewed some more.

What on earth was she doing?

The sense of urgency passed, and he did a more thorough inventory. Her hair was clean and shiny, parted in the middle and arranged in neat rolls. A perky purple and yellow flower was nestled above her left ear. The white apron she wore contrasted with her lavender cotton dress. Below the blousy sleeves, her arms were slender and pale, her hands fine-boned and smooth. Those hands spoke of a life of leisure. The delicate gold chain draped around her wrist and the tasteful diamond earrings winking at him couldn’t be acquired on a cook’s salary. Perhaps she had a wealthy husband who indulged his wife’s desire to work? But there was no gold band to indicate she was married.

She was sampling the second cake when he spoke.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the proprietress, Aunt Mae. Can you tell me where to find her?”

A garbled yelp escaped her. Fumbling to remove the blindfold, she got it off with an impatient tug, slightly mussing the neat strands of her hair. Wide, heavily lashed eyes the hue of polished golden topaz settled on him.

“You’re new.”

“I’m looking for the owner to ask about a room.”

“I meant you’re new to Cowboy Creek.”

He eased farther into the kitchen. “How do you figure? A cattle town such as this one must see its fair share of folks passing through.” A fact that made it easy for a criminal like the one he sought to blend in.

“A man as picture-perfect as you wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.” The second the words were out, she blushed to the roots of her hair. “I shouldn’t have said that. Lucy wouldn’t have given in to the urge.”

“Lucy?”

“My younger sister. She is the definition of proper.”

“Ah.” Adam couldn’t help but be charmed. “I apologize for interrupting your...” He flicked his fingers in the direction of the cake. “Um, what exactly did I interrupt?”

Her hands fluttered, the limp blindfold flapping against her waist. “I was trying to decide whether or not to include ground cayenne pepper in my chocolate cake.”

“Cayenne pepper? In a cake?”

She shrugged. “I like to experiment with different flavors.”

“I’m Adam Draper, by the way.” The false surname left his lips in smooth sincerity. Working for the National Pinkerton Detective Agency since the war’s end four years ago, he’d assumed dozens of personas in his pursuit of criminals. This time, he wasn’t doing it for the Pinkertons. He was here for personal reasons.

She placed her hand in his outstretched one and offered a bright smile. “I’m Deborah, a boarder here. Aunt Mae hired me to bake desserts. I do it in exchange for room and board.”

For long moments, Adam became ensnared by her beauty. Her eyes, almond-shaped and almost too large for her face, sparkled with optimism not readily found in his line of work. She had sleek, dark brown eyebrows that punctuated the lightness of her irises. Her nose was straight, her mouth small and dainty, her teeth white and even. The slight cleft in her rounded chin called for his thumb to rest there.

Her name is Deborah. With a D. The scrap of a note he’d discovered in the last known residence of Zane Ogden, the very note that had led him to Kansas, had been written by someone whose signature began with a D. The rolling script belonged to a woman, he was certain. And this one had failed to offer her last name, an unusual omission.

He ended the handshake more abruptly than he’d intended. “Do you have a last name, Deborah?”

Her smile faltered. “Frazier.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Frazier. Or is it Mrs.?”

She blanched. “I’m not married.”

Why would an innocuous question net that reaction?

Clamping down on his rising apprehension, he smoothed his expression. “I’ve come to Cowboy Creek in search of land. I read about the three men who founded the town and how it’s grown by leaps and bounds. Have you been here since the beginning?”

Her gaze slid away. “Not quite. I arrived a couple of months ago.” Picking up the saucers, she held them close to his nose. “Do you like cake? I could use an objective opinion.”

Adam allowed the attempt at diversion. “Which one has the pepper in it?”

“I can’t tell you. That would alter the outcome.”

“This all sounds suspiciously scientific.”

She laughed. “It’s just cake.”

He moved closer and bent to sniff the first slice. Pinching off a corner, he popped it in his mouth. “It’s good.”

Deborah’s brows lifted in a silent bid for more. He took a second, larger bite. “Very good. The chocolate flavor is there. Not too sweet.” What else did she expect him to say?

“Try the other one.”

Since he didn’t detect even a hint of heat in the first sample, he reluctantly did as she instructed. Cayenne pepper in dessert. Who would’ve thought to put—

“Oh.” The combination of rich chocolate melded with a layer of subtle spice to tease his taste buds. “That’s interesting.”

“Do you like it? Is it too much?” She put the plates down with a clink. “I was aiming for the perfect balance. This is my third attempt. Be glad you weren’t around to try the first.” Her nose scrunched. “I must’ve drunk four glasses of milk that night, trying to cool my tongue.”

Adam was glad, too. “I like it. It’s unexpected.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she looked pleased. “The unexpected can be fun.”

“Or painful.”

“True, but success is rarely achieved on the first attempt.”

Their gazes locked across the expanse of cooking utensils. A breeze wafted through the open windows on their right, scented with the blossoms crowding the painted wooden boxes affixed to the outside sills. In her pretty pastel dress, the bloom tucked against her hair, Deborah Frazier was like a nostalgic summer dream. Adam’s thoughts started to drift from his task.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d met a woman who made him think about moonlit strolls and picnics by the water. At eighteen, he’d escaped his family’s Missouri ranch—and the devastation wrought by Zane Ogden—to join the Union army. There’d been no chance to think about romance during those long, cruel years. And once he’d hung up his uniform, he’d accepted an offer to join Allan Pinkerton’s detective agency. Rooting out criminals and dispensing justice had consumed him, mind, body and soul. He couldn’t rest until he put the man who’d destroyed his family behind bars. That meant no distractions.

Deborah Frazier wasn’t comfortable with his questions. Nor did she offer the slightest bit of extra information about herself. His instincts insisted she had secrets to hide. If she turned out to be the person aiding and abetting his quarry, Adam would personally see she got the punishment she deserved.

He scraped his hand along his jaw, startled when skin met skin. He’d decided to shave his substantial beard for this case. He’d also traded his usual attire for a formal three-piece suit, complete with bolo tie and a pair of bona fide cowboy boots. Adam Draper, Missouri cattleman, had pockets that were well-lined. And he wouldn’t allow an opportunity to flirt with a beautiful woman pass him by.

He affixed a teasing smile on his face and, reaching across the table, brushed a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth. “If I were able to secure a room here, would I be required to sample more desserts?”

Surprise lit her eyes. She pressed trembling fingers to her cheek. “Well, I suppose I could use someone to assist me in that manner. If you wouldn’t mind...”

Adam straightened. She wasn’t accustomed to flirtation, then. Why the notion should please him, he couldn’t say. Steady, old boy. Remember, the best criminals are sometimes the most accomplished actors.

The door in the far corner that led to the rear stoop opened and closed. A woman he guessed to be in her sixties bustled in. She took one glance at the pair of them and, plopping her sacks on the counter, jammed one fist against her ample hip.

“And who might you be?”

* * *

Deborah watched as the handsome stranger softened Aunt Mae’s bristling attitude with a dazzling smile and earnest manner. He indicated that he was in town to scout out potential locations for his expansive ranching operation and would need a room indefinitely. The promise of steady income pleased the businesswoman, of course.

As the pair made to exit the kitchen, the look Adam Draper shot over his shoulder at Deborah remained seared in her mind the rest of the afternoon. There’d been a flicker of something so dark and forbidding, it struck fear in her heart and sent her thoughts scattering to St. Louis and the arranged marriage she’d escaped with hours to spare. Her father was still furious, according to her sister’s telegrams, and still scouring the state for her. But Cowboy Creek was so new it wasn’t on the map. Surely, he wouldn’t think to look in Kansas.

By the time the evening meal had been placed on the table, she was convinced she’d misinterpreted things. Mr. Draper was the first of the guests to arrive. He entered the wide, airy dining room and greeted her with an easy grin. His deep brown eyes hadn’t lost their intensity or intelligence, but they weren’t locked on her in suspicion, either.

Her stomach dipped. Yep, still devastating. Her mind hadn’t mistaken that fact. He was tall, tanned and in excellent physical condition. The pressed navy suit he wore fit his rip-cord-lean frame to perfection. His straight, nearly black hair was brushed off his face, the better to savor his sculpted features. He had an aristocratic nose, defined cheekbones and unyielding jaw. That stubborn set to his jaw made her question if his charm was just an act.

“Good evening, Miss Frazier.” He strolled around the square-shaped room taking its measure, peering through the window glass at the street traffic, running his fingers along the fireplace mantel, admiring the landscape paintings on three of the four walls.

“Good evening, Mr. Draper.” She shifted the salt and pepper containers closer to the ceramic candleholders and fiddled with the folded napkins. “Did you find your room agreeable?”

He took up position behind a nearby chair, his hands curled around the topmost wooden slat. There was no gold ring, nor a line to evidence he’d ever worn one.

“I did, indeed. Aunt Mae put me on the second floor. I’ve a corner room overlooking the main thoroughfare, which means I’ll have a bird’s-eye view of events.” He winked.

He was in the room opposite hers, then. While Aunt Mae preferred to keep the men and women in separate areas, the house wasn’t large enough to do so. Deborah wasn’t sure how she felt about his continued presence in what had become more than a temporary hideout. The memory of his thumb sweeping over the edges of her lips caused her skin to prickle with awareness. He’d already caught her in an unusual situation...how long he’d observed her unawares was anyone’s guess. She didn’t wish to imagine all the different ways she could embarrass herself in front of him.

He indicated the various platters boasting roasted beef and potatoes, sautéed cabbage and other assorted vegetables. “This looks tempting. Are there any unusual ingredients I need to be concerned about?”

“Aunt Mae does the majority of the cooking. I assist her sometimes, but mostly I’m responsible for the desserts.”

She was thankful for the chance to earn her keep while doing something she enjoyed. That meant she could save the funds she brought with her for other necessities.

His eyes twinkled. “And are we having chocolate cake this evening?”

“Not tonight.” She didn’t serve a new dessert until the recipe was perfected. Following their strange exchange, she hadn’t had the fortitude to experiment with icing.

The arrival of another boarder, Sadie Shriver, brought a sense of relief. Having the cattleman’s intense focus directed at her amplified her self-consciousness. There was a reason she’d chosen to slip out of her father’s grand parties and spend the evenings in the kitchens with the staff. She was prone to say or do the wrong thing and embarrass both herself and her father.

Adam Draper had the same effect on Sadie as he’d had on Aunt Mae. Except, the telegraph office clerk didn’t need softening. She was a kind, sincere young woman, sensitive to others’ feelings and always putting others’ comfort above her own. She’d become a particular friend. They’d met on the infamous bride train. During the arduous journey, Sadie had noticed Deborah’s disquiet and, believing it was associated with the prospect of potential grooms, had set out to distract her. While Deborah hadn’t confessed her true reason for being on the train—that would have to remain a guarded secret—she had appreciated her efforts. It had been nice to have a friend, even if she couldn’t be completely open about herself or her past.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Draper,” Sadie said when the gentleman introduced himself. “I see you’ve already made Deborah’s acquaintance.” Sadie shot her a significant glance. “She and I arrived on the bride train together. She’s established quite a reputation for herself. Folks clamor for a taste of her baked creations.”

His startled gaze shifted between them. “Bride train?”

Sadie chuckled. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Each of us came here in search of a fresh start, at the behest of the town officials. Cowboy Creek has an abundance of marriage-minded men and not enough ladies to choose from, so they advertised in other states and offered to pay our train fare.”

Deborah clamped her lips together. She wasn’t here to snare a groom. She was here to evade one!

“So neither of you have found your perfect match yet,” Adam said.

Soft color brushed Sadie’s apple cheeks. “On the contrary. I’ve entered a courtship with a wonderful man.”

“Much to the local bachelors’ dismay,” Deborah inserted. “Walter Kerr is a professional photographer who was invited to visit by his friend Will Canfield.”

“One of the original town founders, correct?” Adam supplied.

Deborah nodded. “And our current mayor, though he’s set his sights on Washington. Sadie has become Walter’s favorite subject. I’ve lost count how many times she’s posed for him.”

The buxom brunette’s smile radiated happiness. “If only you would give some young man the time of day, Deborah, you too could have your share of romance.” To Adam, she said, “She’s refused no less than ten men’s invitations. Two of them offered marriage proposals upon sight.”

“Is that so?”

Adam’s expression revealed nothing of his thoughts. Even so, Deborah felt the urge to bolt.

Leather soles whispering across the polished floor heralded another arrival. The waft of rose water meant it was none other than Hildie Vilhelm, yet another potential bride who rode in on the train. Resplendent in a periwinkle outfit that complemented her fair hair and skin, she came to stand beside Sadie, her big blue eyes fastened on their new boarder with unconcealed interest.

“Our baker’s refusal to give any man a chance is a common cause for debate,” she said. “Especially considering she rode the train in her wedding attire.”

A headache blossomed behind Deborah’s eyes. She edged toward the exit.

Hildie introduced herself. “Tell me, Mr. Draper, what’s brought you to Cowboy Creek?”

“I’d be happy to.” He turned his piercing focus to Deborah. “But first, I think it only fair to give Miss Frazier a chance to defend herself. What do you say? Will you solve the mystery once and for all?”