Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (47 page)

“You’re speaking in riddles.”

“When I should be solving them.” Sadie straightened her back and then snagged the tangles of her hair and began taming them into a thick braid. “Curious, don’t you think, that my father would just let me go with you so easily. Why do you believe that is?”

Her eyes collided with his, even as her fingers continued to work their magic with her blond tresses. She knew something or suspected it. Or perhaps she only wanted to be reassured that she should feel no guilt over her hasty exit.

“I think your father realized that your need to go was greater than his need to keep you.”

“Because I am a Pinkerton agent. Yes, I’ve thought of that.” She stilled her movements and held the tip of her braid between her thumb and forefinger. “But why you? Why allow me to climb aboard a schooner with a stranger when before he raised a fuss when I left with my uncle? And why was he amenable to a match between us? That was all rather sudden, don’t you think?”

He had thought the same thing, actually, although Jefferson preferred to attribute that to his persuasive talents. “All right,” he said. “What do you make of it?”

“That is the riddle I’ve not yet solved. Well, one of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was thinking about Valletta and—”

“Sarah Louise Callum,” he said in the sternest voice he could manage. “Just when I thought you were capable of forgetting you were a Pinkerton agent for a few minutes—”

“All right. I won’t say anything else about the case right now. But if I were going to comment, I would say that—”

“Sadie!”

She laughed, her fingers still clutching the end of her braid. “I was teasing,” she said as she plucked his Panama hat off of the floor of the rowboat, plopped it atop her head, and tucked her braid underneath.

The sight of the prettiest Pinkerton agent he’d ever seen wearing his hat along with a day dress covered in sand and saltwater made him laugh out loud.

“What?” She affected a pose. “Am I not glamorous enough for you? I suppose I’ll have to find something else to wear to Mamie Astor’s ball.”

“I wouldn’t hear of such a thing,” he said as he dug the oars into the crystal blue waters and propelled the rowboat toward the shore. “You far outshine anyone who could be in attendance. I cannot imagine that Mrs. Astor will be anything but jealous.”

“You, sir, are a rogue and a terrible tease.”

“I beg to differ. I am actually quite good at teasing. As are you.”

Sadie made a face but did not press the point further. Instead, she leaned back again, allowing her fingers to trail along in the water but keeping a watchful eye for any sea creatures that might swim too close.

“You didn’t answer my question, Sadie. About having time to do something again?”

She offered a smile. “No, I don’t suppose I did.”

Jefferson shook his head. “And you have no intentions of telling me now, do you?”

Soft laughter was the only answer he got.

“So,” she said a few minutes later, “you’ve been coming to Key West for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“No particular reason. I was just thinking about how lovely it is here. How peaceful.” Her focus returned to him. “I can see why your father would want a home here.”

Jefferson nodded. “Key West was always a stop for us when we visited Mobile. Being from England, my mother never quite understood the attraction, but she was a good sport about it.”

“Then I hope she is a good sport about the home she may be getting soon.’

Jefferson laughed. How little she knew Lizzie Tucker. “Trust me. My mother is always a good sport about the homes my father collects. If she doesn’t like one, she just doesn’t stay long.”

“A pity.”

Not the answer he expected. “What do you mean?”

“Someday, when I marry, I would hope that wherever I am, my husband would always be. And vice versa, of course.”

A proper response escaped him. Only a fool would wish to rid himself of the company of a woman like Sadie. So he said nothing even as he allowed his imagination free rein to consider just what it might be like to wed a woman like her.

They traveled back toward the beach in much this fashion, Jefferson rowing and Sadie contemplating whatever it was she thought of when she said nothing. As tempting as it was to prolong their seafaring adventure, he only slowed their progress slightly when he realized just how quickly they were making their way back to shore.

“Sadie,” he said, and then realized she had fallen asleep.

The waves were breaking closer to them now, and the rowboat shuddered as it rose and then fell again. Rivulets of water ran down the floor of the vessel, likely from a leak somewhere out of sight.

He should be hurrying them back to dry land. Should stop studying her face, shaded as it was by the brim of his hat, as she slumbered.

Soft breaths in. Soft breaths out. And still he rowed.

“Sadie?”

She moved but only to swipe at a lock of hair that had fallen across her face. And then she murmured something. Words so soft he could see her lips move but not hear what she said.

So he leaned down, closer to her and to the lips that spoke his name. “Sadie?” he said as moved nearer.

Lips he had kissed under the mangroves.

And he kissed her again. Softly. Gently. A brush of his lips to hers. Then he sat back and watched. Waited.

Her eyes flew open. “Jefferson?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he managed in his most casual tone.

She sat up and stretched before adjusting his Panama hat so that it rested just so on her head. And once again, Jefferson had the strongest urge to turn the rowboat around and head for open water with his passenger.

But it was too late to turn around. The fisherman from whom he had rented the boat had seen them and begun wading out in their direction.

A few moments later, Jefferson jumped out and then reached for Sadie. “I can do it,” was her response.

“I’m trying to keep you dry. Cooperate, would you?”

Teetering on the edge of the boat, the current pulling against the rope the fisherman held, Sadie made a tentative move toward him. “All right. If you’re sure you will catch me.”

“I’m sure.”

She fell into his arms as a wave toppled them both. Jefferson emerged from the water with Sadie in his arms. “See, I told you I would catch you.”

“Oh, no!”

She slid from his grip and made a dive for the Panama hat that the tide was carrying away. When she missed it by inches, Jefferson lunged for it and caught the brim.

“Ouch,” she said as she leaned back and lifted her foot. “I think I cut myself.”

Jefferson saw blood and frowned. “Where are your shoes?”

“I left them in the boat.” Sadie glanced back. “Yes, I see them.”

“I’ll go get them.”

“No,” she said as she grasped his elbow to keep from floating away. “Let’s just get out of the water. I’m sure I’ve ruined them beyond repair anyway.”

“You’re certain?” At her nod, he handed her his hat. “Here, you take care of this and I will take care of you.”

“Jefferson,” she said, her tone filled with warning. “What are you going to do?”

Situating the chapeau back on Sadie’s head, he held her close against him and moved toward the sand, lifting her out of the water. While the formerly staid Pinkerton agent squealed with laughter, Jefferson marched past the fisherman and back to the shore.

Once on the sand, she attempted to wriggle out of his arms. “Thank you. I can walk from here. It is just a little cut.”

“Be still. I told you I would take care of you, and I plan to do exactly that. Do not make me trip or we will both be limping tomorrow.”

Though they must have looked a spectacle, Jefferson ignored the stares of those who watched them pass.

Sadie’s gown was soaked through, rendering it a less than adequate covering for her modesty. To let her walk would only draw attention to that fact. “I’m going to put you down just long enough for you to put my jacket on,” he said. “And I’ll not hear a word of argument.”

She glanced down at her skirts and then back up at Jefferson. When he handed her the jacket, she quietly complied.

“All right,” he said as he lifted her in his arms once more. “Off we go. I suggest you either smile or cover your face with my hat. I’ll leave the choice up to you.”

“Cover my face? What happened to the man who said nothing was certain? Who told me to live a little?” she said as her smile remained in place.

“Thank you for that reminder.” Jefferson greeted all who dared to look his way as he headed down the street to the docks and then carried Sadie all the way back to the
Lizzie.

As he stepped off the gangplank and made his way down to the main salon, he saw that his father had company.

“Mr. Callum?” he said when he stepped inside, still holding a dripping and laughing Sadie against his chest.

“Daddy?”

Thirty-Six

S
arah Louise Callum, what in the world has gotten into you?”

Once Jefferson had released Sadie from his arms, she kept her injured foot elevated slightly to keep from getting blood on Captain Tucker’s rug. She kept her eyes on her father as she braced herself against the wall and tried to decide what to say in response.

“Daddy, what are you doing here?” Then her gaze fell on the chair where she had sat with Jefferson last night. “Uncle Penn?”

Her uncle stood but remained by the chair. “Good afternoon, my dear. And to you as well, Mr. Tucker.”

Her attention went to the captain, who sat behind the desk with an expression that gave away nothing of what he might be feeling. Finally, she looked over at Jefferson, who seemed to be taking it all in.

The first rule of Pinkerton training was to take charge of a situation, and it appeared as though Jefferson might say something at any moment. Sadie determined to commandeer the conversation before he could.

“Daddy, I will ask you again. What are you doing here?” She put her free hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes just enough to look perturbed. “You followed me, didn’t you?”

“Well, of course I did.” He shifted his attention to his brother-in-law. “That was part of the plan, wasn’t it, Penn?”

Her uncle cleared his throat and then nodded. “Yes.” And then he cleared his throat again. “Yes, that was the plan all along.”

Sadie immediately suspected it was not.

Daddy took two steps forward and then stopped short. “Your mama made a fuss, as you and I both expected. I told her I would find you, and that she and the boys were to stay put while Penn and I headed out. It worked too. She stayed put and…well, I found you.”

Sadie shook her head. “All right. You found me. How?”

He looked perplexed. “I knew where you were going. Following wasn’t difficult, nor was finding the schooner docked here in Key West.”

A plausible answer, but only if Jefferson had told Daddy they were heading for the East Coast. She allowed that was possible and changed her line of questioning.

“Now what?”

He stood a bit taller, any sign of good humor gone. “What do you mean, now what? I will let your mama know I found you.”