To Know Her by Name (13 page)

“I've got chocolate cake,” she announced a moment later. “Anyone interested?”

They all were, of course, and with pride she cut large slices and passed them around. McKay's was larger than the others.

“You're still a little thin, Mr. Harrington,” she explained to him.

“Thank you,” he said with a charming smile as he took the offered plate. “Considering the flavor of all your cakes, Mrs. Meyer, I won't refuse.”

She dimpled at him, wishing not for the first time that he was 20 years older. In her opinion he was the best-looking of her boarders with his dark wavy hair; square, masculine jawline; and broad shoulders. She suspected he had a girl back home in Longmont, but he never spoke of it.

Several weeks back he'd paid her double, explaining that he might be on a trip. When he'd been gone three weeks she began to worry, but someone from his office with the treasury department had come by and explained that he would be returning. The man had even paid Mr. Harrington's rent for the following two weeks. When he finally returned late last Thursday night, he'd been so thin and weak that she'd broken her rule about kitchen privileges, allowing him to come down on Friday and through the weekend to fix meals as he needed. Now he was filling out fast and had even gone back to work Tuesday. He was one of her quieter, cleaner boarders—
religious
is what Mr. Ramsey had called him. Mrs. Meyer didn't care what the reason was; she knew only she had no desire to lose him.

Ten minutes after Pup arrived at the First National Bank of Denver, she thought she had cut her hair for nothing. The head cashier, a Mr. Conway, had heard her stutter and looked at her with something akin to horror, but that was before she stuttered through an explanation of having applied for a job as a book clerk and not a teller. The relief on his face had been comical. By noon, however, he was singing the praises of Bryan Daniels.

With an amazing head for figures, Pup had worked over four different account books in the time it had taken their last clerk to do two. She stuttered painfully and acted rather shy when the big boss, Duncan Phipps, came near, but there was no criticizing the work she did.

She left the bank that evening wanting to give in to her fatigue, but she reminded herself that she had a role to play all the way through dinner. Not only that, she would see McKay—and not just see him but have to face his reaction to her as a man. That had never bothered her in the past, but then she'd never had the roles reversed this way. In the past she had been a man, telling someone she was really a woman. How would McKay react?

Pup remembered something so suddenly that she stopped in the street. How foolish of her! The department had set all of this up. Nick certainly would have told McKay that for a time she was going to be living in the same boardinghouse with him. He might even be assigned to the same bank. Pup's step was much lighter as she finished the walk to Meyer's. The other men were not a worry to her. Now McKay was put to rest as well.

Boulder

The cabin looked the same. McKay didn't know why he thought it wouldn't, except that everything had changed in his mind—and that also meant the cabin. The second thing he noticed was that things were quiet, and he wondered if she were even around. He tied the horse's reins to a branch and started toward the steps. He'd gained only the first tier when the door opened.

“Mud!” McKay looked up with surprise. His mind briefly wondered if there might be more between Mud and Callie than it appeared.

“Hello, McKay.”

“Hello.” It was a temptation to ask what he was doing here, but McKay knew it was none of his business. “I'm looking for Callie. Is she around?”

“No. Rode out after I brought her the mail on Monday. She does that sometimes,” he added absently.

McKay's disappointment knew no bounds. He had some things he wanted to say to Callie Jennings; he also had some questions.

“Will you be here when she gets back?”

“Only if Percy's still driving me crazy.”

McKay nodded. “When you see her, tell her I stopped by, will you?”

“Sure. Sorry you missed her.”

“Thanks, Mud.”

McKay turned away. There was no reason to stay. He had asked Carlyle for an extra day on the weekend to visit his family, but on the train back to Boulder where he would catch his connection to Longmont, he realized he had to see Pup again. It had all been a waste of time. She wasn't there, and in his mind nothing was resolved. He realized that he was going to have to put the last month behind him. He couldn't keep chasing up this mountain, not even mentally, in search of a woman he hardly knew. McKay urged his mount down the mountain as swiftly as he dared. Suddenly he was eager to be home, eager to be with his family and off the job, at least for a couple of days.

Denver

“Welcome, Mr. Daniels,” Mrs. Meyer beamed happily as Pup gained the dining room. “We're so glad you could join us.”

“Th-thank you, m-ma'am.” Pup's head bobbed as she got the words out, standing still in feigned awkwardness while waiting to be directed to a chair. Mrs. Meyer was standing behind her own chair as she began.

“You'll sit second down on my right, Mr. Daniels, but first I want you to meet the other boarders.”

There had only been one man present, but as if by magic, two other men appeared at the door. They came to their seats as Pup stepped behind her own.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Mrs. Meyer greeted them warmly. “Now, Mr. Daniels, at the foot of the table is Mr. Paul Ramsey. His room is at the top of the stairs. Next to you is Mr. David Carrie, whose room is also upstairs. Across from you, second on my left is Mr. Claude Becker. His bedroom is on this level. The empty place first on my left is Mr. McKay Harrington. His room is directly across from yours. Mr. Harrington has gone home to see his family this weekend.” The men all had brief nods or words of greeting for her, and Pup nodded to each one in turn.

The amenities out of the way, Mrs. Meyer moved to sit down. Mr. Carrie jumped over to assist her, and the meal was underway. It was a quiet group to start, but that was because everyone now concentrated on his plate. And Pup didn't blame them. The food was delicious.

Mrs. Meyer served fried chicken, golden and lightly breaded, muffins, and fresh butter. A large bowl of whipped potatoes adorned the table, along with bowls of applesauce, green beans, baby carrots, and sugared beets. Both coffee and water were already poured and waiting at each plate. Not until dessert was set on the table did conversation begin again. Pup had never in her life coaxed a cake to rise so high, but then Mrs. Meyer cut it and she saw that it had three layers. For a moment Pup forgot where she was. Mentally she was going over her own cake recipe in the cabin in the hills. She remembered to take her eyes from the cake and fall back into her role just in time to hear Claude Becker say, “Where'd you say you work, Mr. Daniels?”

“I w-work at th-the b-bank,” Pup got out. “J-just s-started t-today,” she added almost shyly, ducking her head afterward.

Not surprisingly, “Oh” was all she heard. Conversation picked up as Mrs. Meyer replenished the coffee cups, but nothing more was directed at Pup. This was exactly what she'd been hoping for, and she knew a sense of satisfaction that her plan was working so well. Tomorrow she would take some time for herself. She would head to the Wallaces' home and pamper herself with a long, hot bath.

“I don't know how I'm supposed to come in the evening, Nick,” Pup said from behind the screen. “I have to eat with these people, and if I disappear two nights a week, I'm going to draw questions.”

“All right,” he conceded, “come when you can. Now what did you see at the bank?”

“Can't this wait until she's out of the tub, Nick?” Camille asked pointedly, staring at her husband.

“No.” He stared right back and sat down on the edge of Pup's bed. “I need to know if other men are needed.”

“She's not a man—” Camille began, but Pup jumped in to avoid an argument.

“It's a little early to tell, Nick, but all the books I checked yesterday were spotless.”

“It's going to take some time for him to trust you.”

“Do you want me to suggest anything or hint around?”

“No, last time one of my men did that, he got the case dismissed. I might have one of the men do a spot check. That would take all suspicion off you. I want you to hold off for right now. If he has another set of books, one that isn't readily available to the public, he'll eventually bring them out and pay you to stay quiet about them.”

“And if he doesn't?”

Nick didn't reply. All his other undercover agents were men. He would leave any one of them on the job for months, sometimes close to a year, in order to gather the needed information. But Pup was different. He would never do anything to put her into immediate danger.

“Are you out there?” she asked when he remained so quiet.

“Yes, but I don't have an answer for you.”

Pup wasn't certain how to reply, so she remained quiet. Camille had no such qualms.

“This girl is going to be water-logged if you don't get out of here, Nick.”

“I'm going,” he replied as he rose tiredly. “I still want to talk to you, Pup. Come down to the study when you're ready.”

“All right.”

Nick left the bedroom, and Camille poured another bucket of steaming water into Pup's tub. Pup sank a little deeper and thanked her hostess with a sigh. Nick wanted her in a hurry, she could tell by his voice, but she wouldn't know this luxury for at least another week. Pup picked up the soap. It wasn't as good as bathing in the lake at home, but right now Pup refused to be rushed.