“Ye…” She hadn’t even finished her answer when he pressed his lips firmly against hers. Not that she was complaining. She didn’t think she would ever tire of kissing her husband.
Loud clearing of throats came from next to them, forcing them to draw apart… only slightly.
“Do all Pinkerton agents kiss each other once they finish their assignments?” Deputy Charlie asked, shuddering.
“Apparently so. It is revolting, though.” Sheriff Walton winked at her. “Agent Brooks, would you mind caring for Miss Holmes?”
“I’d be glad to,” Rosalie said, walking over to Emeline, who had her arms wrapped around her waist.
As Rosalie helped Emeline back to where they had secured their horses, she glanced over her shoulder and watched as Paden helped escort the criminals.
It was over, even though Bill Garrett was not dead. He would pay for his crimes, and he no longer had power over her.
A feeling of contentment washed over her. Paden had loved her so much that he had come after her; he had fought for her. He had saved her from herself, and she would spend the rest of her days proving to her husband how much she loved him. Her husband. Even though it had taken her longer than she had intended, she was finally back where she belonged… in the arms of Paden Brooks.
Epilogue
Paden kissed his wife’s hand as she anxiously looked out the train’s window. “Are you nervous, my love?” he asked in a teasing voice.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been home,” she confessed, nibbling on her bottom lip.
Placing his finger under his wife’s chin, he forced her to look at him. “Are you worried that the townsfolk will revolt and shoot you the moment you step off the train?”
She laughed as he hoped she would. “No. I left without saying goodbye. I worry that my friends will be angry with me.”
“If you prefer, we could always start our next case early,” he said, tapping his finger on the file sitting in his lap. “I am sure the Clancy Brothers Gang wouldn’t mind going to jail a week earlier.”
Rosalie smiled. “I’ve read the case file. My guess is that the sheriff is crooked, and he’s harboring the fugitives in his town.”
Lifting his brow skeptically, he asked, “You got all that from the two documents in the file?”
“Didn’t you?” she replied cheekily.
Paden felt like his heart would burst with joy, and he hoped his wife felt the same. “Are you happy working as an agent? Or do you miss being a bounty hunter?” he asked, slipping his arm around Rosalie’s shoulders and tugging her close.
Reaching into a pocket of her green, fitted bodice, she removed her Pinkerton badge and ran her fingers over it. “Well, I have been a Pinkerton agent for less than a week, and I find there are a lot more rules associated with being an agent. Furthermore, the pay is substantially less than a bounty hunter.” She smiled. “But I have a remarkable partner and that makes all the difference.”
Paden kissed her soundly on her lips, causing an old lady across from them to clear her throat. He smiled, unashamed. “When I wired Archie that we solved the case and that Bill Garrett was in custody, along with the members of his gang, he was so pleased that he gave us a whole week off.”
“Don’t you usually get time off between cases?”
He chuckled. “No. That’s a luxury only bounty hunters have.”
“Pity,” she replied. “If I had been a bounty hunter, I could have collected the five-hundred-dollar reward for Bill Garrett’s arrest.”
The train came to a stop outside the Waterglen station, and Paden offered his hand to assist his wife as she rose. As they walked down the steps of the train, Rosalie’s disappointed eyes scanned the empty platform. “I had assumed my nana would have met the train.”
“Something must have come up,” he said as he watched their trunks being unloaded at the far end of the platform. He walked over and requested that they be delivered to Lois Addis’ house.
Rosalie’s back was rigid as she stared at the town of Waterglen, Colorado. He approached her and asked, “Is there a problem?”
“Where is everyone?” she questioned. “No one is walking down the boardwalk, and I don’t see any businesses open. It looks like a ghost town.”
Paden offered her his arm. “You are a detective now. Shall we investigate, Agent Brooks?”
They stepped down onto the main dirt road and a line between Rosalie’s brow appeared. “It’s nearly noon, but no one is out today. This is so odd.” She tugged him toward the sheriff’s office. “We need to go speak to the sheriff.”
“Good idea,” he replied, attempting to hide his smile.
Arriving at the sheriff’s office, they saw a note nailed to the locked door. It read, ‘Meeting at the Hotel - 12 pm.’
Immediately, Rosalie tugged him toward the hotel on the opposite side of the road. “What could be so important that they called a town meeting?” she murmured under her breath.
“Are you talking to me or are you asking yourself?” he asked in amusement.
She stopped in front of the main doors of the hotel. “What do you suppose is wrong?” she asked, her voice strained.
Paden reached out and opened the door. “Let’s go and find out, my love.”
She nodded and walked into the hotel’s lobby without saying another word. A nice young man greeted
