Chapter 24
Morning Fawn trembled as she plunged through the buffalo grass, the wispy heads of grain parting like waves. Devon was a Yankee. And a spy. A warrior taking a terrible risk.
He said he had feelings for her. Why, he’d almost looked as if he could kiss her today.
He had kissed Frieda. Not on the lips, but still, the thought scraped over her nerves like the sharp edge of a shell.
And goodness knows, he’d said plenty of pretty words before without them translating to faithful actions.
But today, he’d told her his secret. At least one of them.
He was trusting her with his life. She wouldn’t give up until she found a way to assist him and prove herself.
For the first time since her arrival in this society, she had a real purpose—two, to be exact.
She’d help Devon spy on the Rebs, and together, they’d help Lucy and Ned.
For eighteen months, she’d had nothing to wake up in the morning for except the hope of escaping.
And she’d failed at that, though she had only put half her heart into it.
The distance was too great on her own with no certainty of what awaited on the other end. But this was different.
If only she hadn’t made such a spectacle of herself today. Clearly, she’d demonstrated she didn’t have a clue about behaving in a ladylike manner. The man probably thought she was better suited for jawing over a spittoon than dancing at a ball.
Gnats hovered around her head. She swatted at them.
Frieda Schramm had better keep her hands off Devon.
She hitched her trousers as she neared the buildings. A couple of the soldiers behind the depot paused in their work and stared her way.
Best get back to the main street and blend in, then she could cut through the alleys to the other side of town where she left her horse.
She lowered her hat over her eyes and hurried onto the pebbled path.
Pain pricked the soles of her injured feet.
A sign of softness. They’d once been as tough as hide.
“Hey, boy, what you been up to down there?” A soldier with a scraggly beard hollered at her.
“Doing my business. Couldn’t find an outhouse.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and hurried faster.
“Hope you didn’t leave anything for me to step in.”
The redheaded man beside him straightened. “Didn’t I see you being chased?”
“Didn’t want a whipping,” Should she hurry by them or head for the other side of the building? Her feet weren’t up for another chase. “Fellow said I stared too much at his girl.”
The one with the beard chuckled. “How old are you, anyhow?”
“Old enough.” She hastened past. “Gotta get home. Ma’ll have a fit.”
The redhead’s silence didn’t bode well. Morning Fawn picked her speed up to a jog.
The street, safety—a lady with a baby carriage, a slave woman walking behind her mistress, another solider, two men in suits.
She bolted through onto the planked walkway and ran smack dab into a man’s hard muscular chest.
She stumbled backward and landed on her rear end with her legs splayed wide. A few strands of hair fell from beneath her hat.
Nicholas gaped down at her.
Her face flamed. She jabbed her hat down and scrambled to her feet. A sinkhole would come in mighty handy right about now. “Excuse me, sir.” Her voice warbled instead of dipping low.
The lady with the baby carriage stopped to stare, but the two businessmen mumbled and strode past.
Morning Fawn pivoted to the street, ready to dash.
Nicholas locked onto her arm and turned her toward him. He reached for her hat.
“Please don’t. Not here.” Panic laced her whisper, her voice undisguised.
“Miss Beth?” His eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
She tugged her coat across her front and nodded.
“You said miss?” The lady’s brow furrowed.
“Miss Beth’s servant boy. Good day, ma’am.” Moyer glared at the woman until she continued on her way, servant in tow. He stood back to take Morning Fawn in. “What the devil?”
She mumbled under her breath. “Spying. Trying to find out if Reynolds was a lying snake.”
Nicholas scoured Morning Fawn with his gaze. “Spying on Reynolds?” A grin erupted across his face. “You’ll have to tell me more. But not here.” He tucked the loose strand beneath her hat rim. “Come along, boy. I’ll teach you to run into me.”
He didn’t release her until they were behind his closed office door.
As soon as his hand fell away, she dusted off the spot where it had rested on the coat.
She should have kept her mouth shut. But she had to say something, and the truth had popped out.
Lies took more time. She’d better be prepared to spin a skein full.
Hair slicked back, mustache waxed, and his fine wool trousers and frock coat spotless, the man belonged with Miss Perfect. Only, he’d never take a second look at Frieda, and if he did, his fox-like nature would probably spook her back into her chicken coop of a life.
Nicholas pointed to the high-back chair across from his desk. Morning Fawn practically dove in it. A single chair, much better than a sofa for distancing herself from him. Her hat slipped, and she yanked it off. Hair cascaded across her shoulders and onto her back.
Grin still wide, Nicholas shoved his cigar box aside and leaned back against the front of his desk, half resting on the beveled edge. He shook his head as he gave her another look over. “What happened to your feet?”
She tucked them under the chair. “Reynolds caught a glimpse of me spying on him. I took off running. Didn’t want to be caught.
Discarded my boots along the way. I left him wandering in the woods, with no clue.
That’s…when I bumped into you. That’s why I was in a hurry.
” She shrugged, but her heart felt as if it’d pound out of her chest. Devon’s life was at stake here.
Dear God, help me. Did the Lord help people lie? She couldn’t afford to mess up.
“Obviously, you’re not the girl I thought you were.” A fire burned in his eyes. Was that good or bad?
She rubbed her hands on her scuffed trouser legs. “I reckon I’m not. Too many years on the frontier with the Comanche. I should go—”
“Go? I’m dying to hear what you discovered about our lieutenant. Less than two weeks ago, you told me he was the epitome of virtue, and now I see you…” He waved his hand toward her. “And now you’re playing detective and dressed like Sally Skull.”
“Sally who?”
“Toughest cotton teamster this side of the Rio Grande. And a good shot. A wise man doesn’t touch her cotton or get in her way.” He unbuttoned his coat, revealing a charcoal-colored waistcoat. “But you’re a much finer lady than she could ever hope to be.”
Fine lady? Morning Fawn smothered a sputter as she glanced down at her attire.
“I can see you still underestimate yourself.” The words flowed smoother than milk. “But I digress. I’m dying to hear about Reynolds.”
She swallowed. Keep it close to truth. Throw this man off the trail.
“I was tired of his lying, sneaking ways. You…you were right about me having an interest in him. He’d be sweet as pie on some moonlight walk or sharing hymnals in church, but then he’d disappear off to Alleyton and not have a word for me.
I knew there was someone else. A doctor’s daughter.
Frieda. ‘Miss Perfect,’ that’s what I call her.
Always after him to have some lemonade or cookies.
But I’ve seen the way they looked at each other, and the way he went to calling her by her given name ten minutes after they met. ”
She curled her fingers inward at the thought of it. “And then him telling me he was going to Alleyton on business and that I was his one and only. Well, I got tired of being taken for a fool. I snuck off the plantation, got me some clothes and a horse, and came to find out for myself.”
“Amazing.” He gnawed his lip. His expression faded to dead serious. “What did you discover?”
“I caught them hanging all over each other…and kissing. More than I could stomach.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m finished with that man. Miss Lemonade and Cookies can have him.”
Nicholas stroked his thin mustache, pressing the curled ends against his short beard and then releasing them.
Had she said too much? Would he read more than Frieda into why Devon was coming to Alleyton? Sweat slicked her palms, but she willed her hands to be still. She needed to appear angry, not nervous.
“Have you found out anything else about him?” He arched his eyebrows. “I’ve sent inquiries—”
Her heart sank. “Inquiries? Any word back yet? I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you a couple weeks ago.”
“Too bad you wasted your affection when you had another beau faithfully seeking it.”
She squirmed in her seat. What was she supposed to say to that? “I reckon I got what I deserved.”
“I reckon you did.” He withdrew a cigar from the box at his side. “There was something about the man that didn’t set right with me from the first day I laid eyes on him. I’m still waiting to hear from my agent, but I’m sure he’ll dig—”
“There was one more thing.” Her chest tightened. She had to steer this weasel off course. This was her chance. What to say? Devon was depending on her to get it right. “I wouldn’t necessarily trust your agent.”
“You don’t know anything about my agent.”
“I know what I overheard Dev—Reynolds saying to Miss Perfect.”
“What?” He leaned forward.
“That he has men inside your circle. That he’s here from Confederate headquarters. Spying on you.”
He shot up off the desk. “Spying on me?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you.”
“And why the devil not?”