To Know Her by Name (15 page)

“Who cut your hair?”

“Camille Wallace always does.”

He continued to study her, his eyes moving all over her features and then back to her eyes.

“Did you know I was going to be at the bank today?”

“No.”

“And here, did you know I lived here?”

“Not until I walked through the front door last Thursday night.”

McKay shook his head in amazement. “You were incredible today.”

Pup shrugged, but she was pleased. “It's all part of the job.”

“Nick says you're the best he's got.”

Again she shrugged, but didn't look shy or deny the compliment.

“Were you really involved in the war?” He had to ask.

Nick had done more talking than Pup thought he ever would, but she still answered.

“Yes, I was very young and saw awful things. I don't think I would ever do it again.”

“And that's how you met Nick?”

“I was his aide. It was fascinating, but like I said, not something I want to repeat.”

“Why as a man, Callie?”

“You can't call me that, McKay. You can't think of me as a woman.”

“But why as a man?” he persisted.

“You can look at me and ask me that?” she challenged softly.

McKay nodded his head. “Yes, I can. I don't think you look like a man.”

“But everyone else does, and that's my job,” she explained simply. “I'll tell you, McKay, people see what they want to see. Camille has been saying that for years. I don't look like a man. But people see the clothing and they don't really look any further. I don't have any facial hair, but many men don't have heavy beards.” In a bold move she brushed a finger across the day-long stubble on his jaw. “You could never pass for a woman.”

“Thank you,” he said dryly, “I think.”

Pup smiled cheekily at him, but his eyes were serious.

“I won't continue to bring this up, Callie, but I have to say it one more time. I'm sorry about your brother.”

“Thank you, McKay. I know it wasn't malicious. You were doing your job.”

He nodded and continued to study her.

“Speaking of jobs,” he now asked, “how long will this one be?”

“I don't know. Nick wants Duncan. He wants him badly. I'll probably be here for a while. How about your end of it?”

“Just a few weeks. I went all the way back up the mountain looking for you,” he said suddenly.

“You did? Why?”

“I had some things to say and some questions to ask. I still do.”

Pup smiled, feeling completely in control of the situation.

“They'll have to wait,” she said simply. “I'm tired and headed to bed.”

“But you do understand that we're not done, don't you, Mr. Daniels?”

Pup ducked under his arm and went for her spectacles on the bed. When they were in place she glanced around the room.

“Did you hear what I said to you?” McKay tried again, but he was ignored. He watched as she grabbed the bar of soap from his washstand. Without warning she opened the door.

“Th-thank you f-for the s-soap, M-Mr. H-Harrington,” she stammered, her voice back to normal level.

“That's my last bar,” McKay hissed at her.

Pup took a swift peek into the hall. It was empty. She leaned toward him long enough to hiss back, “You should have thought of that before you dragged me in here.”

With that she was gone. McKay stood in his room and watched her use her key in her lock and then slip inside. She glanced up at him just before the door shut, and he thought he caught a smile on her face.

McKay swung his own door closed. He stood for a long time thinking about their conversation. His head shook and a smile slowly formed. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but it was certainly going to be fun.

13

Pup worked hard the next two weeks, often with McKay directly across the table from her. On Friday of the second week, she was asked to lunch with Mr. Conway, something rather unusual if bank gossip could be believed. She went along and thought she caught some additional interest on his part. He questioned her extensively as to her background, in a very polite way of course, but Pup had seen this type of operation before and was not easily fooled. He was working up to ask her a favor—maybe not today, but soon.

She caught momentary looks of frustration over the way she struggled to express herself, but he was swift to recover his composure. This, more than anything else, told Pup he was after something. Indeed, by the time they left to return to the bank, he gave her a compliment she was supposed to take as high praise.

“I can see you're a real bank man, Daniels. There's a great future in this company if you know what I mean.”

Pup stuttered out a thank-you as they exited the restaurant, and she looked shyly pleased as they drove back to work in the small carriage Mr. Conway had hired to take them across town. McKay was back at the table ahead of her, and she broke character for the first time in ten days of working together.

“Are you headed back to the office tonight?” she whispered, her eyes still on the figures in the book.

McKay was so surprised that he almost looked up.

“Yes,” he whispered back, careful to keep his eyes on his own accounts.

“Get word to Nick that I'll be at the house tomorrow.”

McKay opened his mouth to say something, but they were interrupted.

“Mr. Phipps would like to see you, Mr. Harrington.”

“All right,” McKay spoke and pushed his chair back. The clerk was waiting for him, so with only a glance at Pup's bent head he was forced to leave her alone.

“Nick is looking for you,” Camille commented as she came into the bedroom the next morning.

“This water feels too good, Camille. Besides, I thought we were going to talk after lunch.”

“I thought that was the plan, too, but now he's got a man down there.”

“Oh,” Pup had to think about this. “So do I go down as Peter Crandall or Bryan Daniels?”

“Why don't you go as Callie Jennings?” Mrs. Wallace asked with innocent eyes.

The sponge froze in Pup's hand. “Camille,” she asked with great patience, “who is this man?”

“McKay Harrington.” She became suddenly eager. “He's very good-looking.”

“And he's already seen me in a dress, so there's no need to bother.” She went back to soaping.

Camille dropped onto the edge of the bed as though a prize fish had just gotten away.

“When was this?” she demanded in a disappointed tone.

“When he got shot and had to live at my place in the hills for three weeks.”

“That was McKay?”

“Um-hmm—” Pup said absently while lathering the length of one long leg. “I can't believe Nick didn't tell you.”

“He told me it had happened, but not who it was. Are you sure you won't come as Callie?”

“I'm sure, but I am tired of the glasses, so warn Nick to call me Peter.”

Camille sighed. It was no use. Pup's mind was always on the job. Her husband's top undercover agent simply had no desire to be attractive to men. McKay Harrington was so polite and handsome. And what could be more convenient than the two of them working for the treasury department? Again she sighed but decided to let the matter drop. If she didn't go now, she'd forget to tell Nick that Peter was arriving. She let herself out into the hallway, passing Miranda who was bringing more towels to Pup. Camille Wallace asked herself if there was another woman in all the state of Colorado whose life was quite like her own.

“Peter,” Nick spoke the minute he saw Pup, “it's good to see you. Come on in. I think you met Carlyle Crawford a number of years ago.” Nick paused while the two shook hands.

“It's good to see you, Mr. Crawford,” Pup said.

“The pleasure is all mine, and please call me Carlyle,” he said graciously, silently awed by her appearance. She looked like a finely dressed young man, tall and slim, ready for a day in the city. There was a smooth confidence about her that never even made him suspect it was a disguise.

“And this is McKay Harrington,” Nick went on, a twinkle in his eye.

McKay was smiling as well. “I tried to tell Bryan yesterday that I would be here, but we were interrupted.” He paused in order to give up the pretense. “And then you weren't at dinner last night.”

Before answering McKay, Pup glanced at Carlyle to see if he had been informed. “No, I wasn't,” she said. Then she readily admitted, “If I keep eating Mrs. Meyer's cooking, I'm not going to fit into any of my pants.”

McKay smiled a little more, but then asked out of frank curiosity, “Where do you get your clothes?”

“Camille gets most of them for me, but I do shop for accessories.”

“Something to drink, Pup?”

“No thank you, Nick,” she said, taking a seat on the sofa. McKay declined a drink as well and sat opposite her. Carlyle and Nick took the chairs.

“Camie's planning to put a meal on the table in about 30 minutes, but I want to know what you've got,” Nick began. “McKay mentioned that you'd gone to lunch with Conway. Any news?”

“He told me that I had a promising future if I could catch his meaning,” Pup explained briefly. “I did, but all I said was thank you.”

“He wasn't more specific?”

“No, but McKay was called into the office right after I got back. My guess is that they won't move on me until he's out of the way.”

McKay's admiration for her grew. That was exactly why Duncan had called him into the office yesterday—to inquire in a not-so-sweet tone as to when the bank would be seeing the last of McKay Harrington.

“When can you finish up, McKay?”

“Two days, three at the most.”

“Good.” Nick looked satisfied. “Can you manage the boardinghouse a bit longer, Pup?”

“I think so. It would help if the man across the hall didn't snore.”

“How do you know it's me?” McKay wished to know, his head turned to look at her.

“Because it didn't start until you returned from your weekend out of town.”

McKay shook his head as though addressing a simple child, “I'll have you know, Miss Jennings, I never—”

“That's Mr. Crandall to you,” Pup corrected him pertly, and back and forth they went.

Nick and Carlyle sat and stared in wonder at the two of them. At one point Nick looked up to see that Camille had come into the room. One look at her and he knew that she was observing the sparring couple as well.

“Lunch is ready,” she announced, and although Nick was certain no one else noticed, he couldn't help but hear the smug tone in her voice. She would wait until everyone was gone before she would bring it up, but Camille definitely had something on her mind.