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He’d like more than anything to formally court her, speak with her supervisor, and ask permission to do so. Since she lived away from her family, under the care and protection of the Harvey House, it seemed the right way to do things. Then he could walk up to the front door of her boardinghouse on her days off and escort her to the theater, the museum, and even the library where interesting meetings were often held.
As much as he wanted to do that, one thing held him back. For as sweet and tempting as she was, Miss Emily Cabot was a liar. Everything that had come out of her mouth tonight had been a falsehood. He would bet a month’s salary she’d never stepped a toe in Louisiana. Ten years of working with the Texas Rangers had honed his skills in listening when people talked. He’d also learned to watch what they didn’t say. The truth was there in how they moved their bodies.
She had a Texas accent strong and true, and squirmed so much in her chair he feared she would knock herself to the floor. He would also bet whatever she was hiding had nothing to do with her committing any type of crime. That he would have sensed immediately. There wasn’t a coy or unlawful bone in her body. Which left him wondering the answer to one very important question.
What kind of trouble is Emily in, and who or what is she hiding from?
Chapter 4
“All right, Uncle Jesse, what do you want me to do?”
Hunter and Michael had shaken hands and parted ways yesterday after two torturous weeks of pretending Hunter was happy working as a store clerk. He doubted this stint in Uncle Jesse’s office would be any better. But if this didn’t work out, he could always bug his brother-in-law, Rusty, for a job on his and Rachel’s ranch. Hunter’s leg would be a problem, but maybe he could do something—anything—outside, instead of being cooped up all day.
“What I have in mind is for you to do some investigative type work for me.”
That perked him up. Investigative work would be much more interesting, and at least would get him outside once in a while.
“But before we start, I think while you’re a member of my staff, you should just call me Jesse.”
Hunter shrugged. “That might feel strange at the
beginning, but I’ll try to remember.”
Jesse gestured in the direction of his inner office, and then led Hunter there. He apparently wanted to say something his office staff wouldn’t hear. Hunter took the leather chair in front of Jesse’s desk, while his uncle faced him, resting his hip against the desk. “I have a close friend, also a client, who believes someone’s trying to smear him.”
Hunter frowned and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Tell me some more.”
“Four times now in the past few weeks, little tidbits of false information have been printed in the gossip column of The Guthrie Sentinel.”
Hunter waited patiently as his uncle seemed to gather his thoughts.
“Each time, no one is named but by the description of the individual they’re hinting at, there is no doubt in my mind—or I’m sure in most readers’—that this client is the target of the blurb.”
“Can you think of any reason why someone is interested in smearing him?”
“Yes. A very good one. Let me give you a bit of a history lesson. Some time back, a delegation of representatives of both the Indian and Oklahoma Territories met in Oklahoma City for a joint statehood convention. After days of talking and negotiating, a petition was drafted, and presented to the United States Congress on March seventh of last year.
“We anticipate a vote sometime in September to settle the matter of whether the citizens of Oklahoma Territory want to be admitted to the United States of America. I am confident the vote will be positive. It is this client’s intention to run for State Governor when the next election comes up. And, I might add, he has the backing of the Party.”
Hunter expelled a low whistle. “And someone doesn’t want to run against him.”
“So it seems.”
Jesse rounded the desk and took his seat. “I have no idea if it’s someone from his party who wants the nod from the powers that be, or the other side. Either way, I can only assume the snippets of information will continue and most likely become more offensive.”
Hunter grabbed a piece of paper and pencil from Jesse’s desk. “Names. I want names of anyone you think might be behind this. I don’t care how upstanding they appear to be. I’ve learned from years in law enforcement that the most seemingly innocent individual can harbor the most vicious intentions. Oh, and I’ll also need the name of your client.”
Jesse wrote the name on a piece of paper and handed it to Hunter.
“I thought tonight we might take a stroll in the park.” Hunter took Emily’s hand and tucked it close to his side.
Since that night a few weeks ago at the Cafe, Hunter had never again questioned her about her background. She wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad. Either he had fallen for all her lies or he knew her to be a flat out liar and it didn’t matter.
What mattered to her was how her feelings for Hunter were growing. She’d been taking extra time with her hair each morning, then made sure it was not in disarray when she left for the evening. Before leaving, she stopped in front of the mirror at the back door of the restaurant to check her appearance, pinch her cheeks, and bite her lips for color.
As soon as the door closed behind her, she began to search for him. He constantly stood in the same spot, arms crossed, leaning against a gaslight. His face always lit up when he saw her, the way she assumed hers did as well. And if she had any doubt, the teasing she took from her co-workers put that question to rest.
“Emily, you meeting your beau tonight?” She heard that question just about every night as the girls finished up their duties.
