Flora's Wish (12 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Y'Barbo

BOOK: Flora's Wish
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At least she intended to be there. And if Will Tucker was not, at least now she knew how to get a message to him. Either way, it was an excellent plan.

Full steam ahead to Natchez, indeed.

Should the missing Mr. Tucker prove impossible to locate in Eureka Springs, Mr. Jack Wilson of Natchez Under-the-Hill had best be prepared to explain just exactly what his connection to her fiancé was and how she could locate him.

“Can't see as how it would hurt,” Seamus said. “Though if Mr. Tucker comes back to ask me where his receipt is, I will have to tell him I gave it to you.”

“Yes, would you?” she said. “I welcome another visit with him, and I promise I'll keep the receipt right here in my reticule.” She gestured to the purse at her wrist and quickly covered it with the receipt lest either of the men notice the handcuff she was hiding.

“I'd be pleased to,” he said as he offered his goodbyes to the desk clerk and slipped out the door.

Flora felt Henry watching her. “Miss Brimm,” he said slowly, “I ought to tell that Pinkerton man about what Seamus gave you. After all, he is looking for the fellow, and he is the law.”

With her best boarding school manners, she regarded the man who just might give her whole plan away. “Of course, I can see how that would appear to be the best way to handle the situation, but I wonder if I might appeal to your discretion in the matter.”

“I don't think I know what you mean.”

A burst of laughter on the other side of the glass temporarily ended the possibility of discreet conversation. She pressed her finger to her lips and then motioned toward the manager's office.

“I ask your discretion,” she said when he stepped inside the office, “because the matter of Mr. Tucker and myself is a bit problematic.” Flora paused to decide how much more to say. “You see, Mr. McMinn—”

“That's the Pinkerton?”

“Yes,” she said. “As I was saying, Mr. McMinn has learned of my engagement to Mr. Tucker and is quite unhappy about it.” All true, though Flora hoped she would not be questioned any further on the details of the statement. “Mr. McMinn has certain erroneous beliefs regarding my fiancé's activities, but at the moment I cannot correct them.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I can only say it is a matter of utmost importance to the Frisco Railroad.”

“The Frisco? I worked for them for ten years before I settled down here in the Springs and married my wife. You mean Tucker's a railroad man too?”

She ducked her head and then peered up at him. “I fear I cannot answer that officially due to the nature of his business. I'm sure you understand.”

“Of course. I'm guessing he's one of those railroad detectives. We get them here sometimes. You know, a little rest and relaxation before heading back on the rails to keep folks safe.”

“Or to elope.”

“Elope? Well, of all the…” He shook his head. “Why didn't you say so?”

“Actually, due to his special duties for the railroad, Mr. Tucker and I felt it important to—”

“Never mind,” he hurried to say. “Forget I asked. I wouldn't want you to betray any confidences. Just tell me how I can help you and your intended.”

Flora smiled. “Are you certain?”

Henry adjusted his cap and put on his broadest smile. “Anything for a fellow railroad man.”

“Well, in that case…”

F
lora turned the key, took another look down the hall to be sure she hadn't been followed, and then slipped inside her suite to find the parlor blessedly empty of Grandmama and her entourage. The door on the other side of the room was shut tight, a good sign that her grandmother was away or indisposed.

Either option was fine as long as Flora kept her solitude a little longer. She knew eventually Lucas McMinn would come knocking at her door. The weight on her wrist bore the truth of that. And when he arrived, he had best bring the key that would rid her of the ridiculous restraints. Once he stomped and sputtered a bit, which as a man—and a lawman at that—he was entitled to do.

She smiled at the thought of besting him. Surely he would not expect to find her released from the prison of the manager's office. And yet she hadn't run. Rather, she'd happily allowed the clerk to escort her to the elevator and promised to stay put in her rooms until Mr. McMinn returned.

Easing the strings of her reticule over the remaining handcuff and off her arm, Flora held the empty cuff and tried to figure out how best to hide it until the Pinkerton agent arrived. Shoving the thick metal ring up her sleeve proved difficult, but under the circumstances it appeared to be her only choice.

She held her arm down at her side to be sure the evidence did not show. The final result left much to be desired, including the fact she now bore a large and suspicious lump beneath her left wrist.

At least she'd done a passable job of disguising her current situation—or so she hoped. Flora went to the mirror in her dressing room to look and decided that only Grandmama, who never missed a single errant detail, would notice.

Now, to hide the remainder of the evidence. She reached into her reticule to retrieve the receipt and then walked over to stoke the embers in the sitting room fireplace. A moment later, Flora dropped the paper into the flames and watched until it burned completely to ashes.

Next she found the pink ribbon and then went looking for her Bible. It had been moved from her bedside table to the chair beneath the open window. The window above the rooms Will Tucker had taken for himself.

Her fiancé had been here. In her room.

How dare he?

Outrage mixed with curiosity coursed through her as she picked up the Bible. Flora sat down and thumbed through the pages, intending to put the ribbon back in place. In the spot where the bookmark had been, she found a folded slip of paper.

Pulling it from its hiding place, she unfolded it to see the letterhead of the Frisco Railroad emblazoned across the top. Beneath it were bold letters:
Until tomorrow. W.T.

Tomorrow. Flora smiled as the tension between her shoulder blades relaxed. He had left a message before making his escape. Wherever Mr. Tucker had gone, he intended to return for their marriage vows. That he'd gone to such lengths to let her know was a comfort, but Flora couldn't help wondering why he had chosen this course of action.

Somehow his shadowed life as a railroad detective no longer seemed glamorous or exciting. Instead, the man's penchant for disappearing without warning was becoming a little troublesome.

But more than that, Flora heard a whisper of worry that until now she'd managed to silence. Was this man God's best for her? Was he God's choice?

“Beg pardon, ma'am,” a soft feminine voice said.

Flora fumbled with the Bible, dropping it on the rug at the maid's feet. “Goodness, how did you get in here so quietly?”

“I'm terrible sorry, Miss Brimm.” She picked up the Bible from the carpet and handed it to Flora. “Your grandmother sent me up to ask if you would like to take tea with her at the home of the general's wife. She's down in the carriage and in a bit of a hurry. She said you shouldn't tarry if you would like to come along.”

“Please tell my grandmother I must decline due to a previous commitment.” Flora held the Bible against her chest, her heart still beating at a mad pace. “And that I send my best wishes to the general's wife.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The maid curtseyed but remained in place.

Flora looked up to see her staring, her expression oddly confused. “Is there anything else?”

“No, Miss Brimm,” she said as she hurried off. “I'll see that your grandmother is given the message.”

Only when the girl was gone did Flora realize that the handcuff she'd so carefully hidden had come loose from her sleeve and was dangling free. She hurried to the door, but the maid was gone.

“Oh, well,” she said under her breath. “Either Grandmama will come upstairs to set the situation to rights or I'll be left alone until Mr. McMinn returns.”

Neither option appealed.

And yet she'd given her word to the clerk that she would remain in her suite until released by the lawman from her prison. She slid the folded page from her Bible and set the book aside.

“Until tomorrow,” she said softly.

Once again, thinking of her wedding as an appointment set poorly with Flora. Knowledge that she might have traveled a few steps ahead of the Lord on her path toward marriage gave her too much to consider.

She wandered into the sitting room. She would burn this piece of paper too, but knowing Mr. Tucker had somehow managed to place it in her Bible…

Flora shook her head. How had he managed all of that? How could he have known she would find the pink bookmark on his ledge? That she would go to the Bible and find the note?

Her finger traced the edge of the marble fireplace as she tried without success to fit the pieces together. Finally, she crumpled the note and threw it into the fire.

Orange flames reflected against the cold silver of the handcuff as she watched the small piece of paper turn to ash. If Grandmama had been told about the handcuff, she'd likely arrive soon. If the maid chose to be discreet, Flora knew she would have a bit more time to await the Pinkerton agent.

And if Will Tucker was the Lord's choice for her, He would see that she and the railroad detective successfully repeated their vows. “Close this door if I'm not to walk through it,” she whispered even as she silently prayed that nothing would stop tomorrow morning's wedding.

Lucas stalked across the lobby toward the elevator, his temper rising with each step. He should have known the woman would talk her way out of the manager's office. If he didn't find her in her room, others beside Miss Brimm would pay the price.

Starting with the deputy he'd hired to shadow her. It hadn't helped much that the man had fallen ill. Lucas wouldn't have had to leave the Natchez belle under such unprofessional care as the hotel desk clerk otherwise.

Then there was Tucker. With no sign of him at the depot and a pair of deputies watching the roads in and out of town, there was little else Lucas could do to find the man today. At this point, his best option was to shadow Miss Brimm until tomorrow morning's supposed wedding. If Tucker showed, he'd be jailed on the spot. If he didn't, the next move would be to shadow Fatal Flora until she led the law to him.

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