“You’ve struck the nail square on the head, dear sister-in-law,” said Trace. “My wife is the kindest, most thoughtful creature God placed on the earth.”
Gen could see that Trace was enjoying this charade and playing it to the limit. It made her feel slightly sinful, but, at the same time, understood secrecy was of the utmost importance. On certain occasions, their lives might depend on no one knowing they were Pinkerton agents. She sighed, realizing she had no idea how the agency worked, and sadly, that left her at Trace’s mercy.
Trace turned to his wife. “Such a heavy sigh, my dear. You must be exhausted.” He addressed the family at the table. “I’m afraid we must eat and run. Gen needs to pack her things and get settled into her new home before nightfall.” Gen clung on every word, particularly interested to hear this part of his story. In the whirlwind confusion of the day, where she would hang her hat after walking away from the Trafton family farm had not entered her mind.
“Where are you taking our sister?” asked Saul.
“Not far,” said Trace. “I have a small house in Denver. We will be there off and on, but my job takes me on the road a lot. But I have the privilege of bringing my wife along, which thrills her. We consider it a wonderful opportunity to see our great nation first hand.”
“Oh, I’m so jealous,” said Ruth. “I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“Perhaps your future husband will have a mysterious job and will traipse around the country with you as well.” Jethro pushed his chair back and stood. “Me, I never want to leave the farm. I was born here, and this is where they’ll bury me.”
“Father would be so pleased to hear that, Jethro,” said Gen. “I promise to come back and visit whenever I can.”
“That’s all we can ask from a married woman. You have a new home now and I know that Trace will benefit greatly from our loss.”
Gen did the rounds, hugging her siblings and drying tears from her sisters faces. They followed her into her bedroom and watched her fold clothes and place them in a trunk. Toiletries and a few special items were tossed in so she’d always have memories of her family. Inside she feared the inevitable. Where would she live when the convenience of the team-front wore off, and Trace had their marriage annulled? What story would she tell her family when she returned to her roots, abandoned and alone?
She immediately dismissed those depressing thoughts. They hadn’t even begun to live the adventures, and she already dreaded the end. Regardless of how long her career lasted, she’d never return to this home. Leaving was a finality Genevieve must face today. The decision had been made to strike out on her own, for better or worse, and nothing would deter her from the path she’d chosen, no matter how spontaneous.
Trace carried her trunk and case outside. They borrowed the family wagon to take the load to town, but her husband promised to return it tomorrow. Everyone gathered on the front porch to wave goodbye. When Gen finally twisted around on the wooden seat, her past fading behind her and the future looming ahead, she fought back the tears. Optimism faded from her face as she focused on the passing trees to regain her composure.
“Regret your decision, Mrs. Stapleton?”
Gen sat erect to face Trace. “Not at all, Mr. Stapleton. You managed to communicate a convincing story to my family. Thank you. I believe I’d have vomited halfway through the mountain of lies.”
“It’s part of the job, Gen. We will have to portray many faces while solving cases together.” He tapped her hand lightly. “You put on a brave front. No one suspected that your heart was breaking.”
Gen regarded the man at her side. Such keen insight for knowing her only one day. The skill would help in their working careers; still she feared it might cause unnecessary stress when trying to maintain distance in their relationship. One-sided transparency was not her idea of an ideal partnership.
Twenty minutes later, Trace pulled up to a cabin located on the edge of town. It had a white picket fence across the front of the property and a gate. He helped her from the buckboard, and as she slid to the ground, their eyes met, and for a brief second, she melted into a pool of embarrassment. His hands tightened on her waist, and she pushed away.
“Please, don’t misread anything you might think you see beyond my prim exterior. As you suggested earlier, my emotions are mush at the moment. I believe I’m homesick already.”
“Understandable.” Trace took her hand. “Let me show you inside. Feel free to make it as homey as you like. I’m not here much so you can have run of the place.”
“But I’ll be gone when you are. This is simply our Denver location, right?” Gen asked.
“Right, but the offer still stands. I would prefer us to be as cordial as possible. Makes the job and life so much easier.”
“Spoken from experience,” she said, unable to shake her mind free that this man had been married twice before her. Was she jealous – surely not? It was part of the job, and she’d best wrap her head around it quick.
The spacious front porch enticed her. If she spent no time inside Trace’s house, this verandah would serve to satisfy her soul. Inside, she found the kitchen well equipped and a shiny blacktop for her to cook meals. A small table and four chairs sat in the middle of the space.
But it was the parlor that took her breath away. “Oh, Trace, what a wonderful fireplace.” She held her hands next to her heart and gaped openly at the colorful display of rounded stones that
