An Agent for Lucy: Pinkerton Matchmakers, #2

By Amelia C. Adams

Lucy Haskell is returning home to Denver after four years living abroad in China. She's eager to see everything that has changed in her absence and to start the next chapter of her life. When her dear friend and traveling companion, Delphine Collins, goes missing, Lucy realizes she's in a unique position to help. She decides to apply to become a Pinkerton agent, offering her familiarity with the culture to help search for Delphine in Chinatown.

Jed Green isn't sure what he thinks about ladies joining the agency. From personal experience, Jed knows it's dangerous work, and he can't imagine putting a woman in such a tenuous situation. When he's asked to train a new female agent, he reluctantly agrees. But when he's asked to marry her for propriety's sake? That's another thing altogether – how utterly preposterous!

Before Jed and Lucy can concentrate on their case, they must discover if they can work together. However, resolving their surprising feelings for each other, so they can focus on their dangerous task, is another thing altogether.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barr26 Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Oct 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223576464

Book preview

image-placeholder

Pacific Ocean, 1871

Lucy? Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

Lucy Haskell turned at the sound of the voice and smiled. I can’t have gotten too far away, not on a ship at sea.

Delphine Collins chuckled, her double chin wiggling as she did so. Of course not. That would be quite a tragedy otherwise, but a treat for the sharks. A look of horror crossed her face. Oh, dear. I’m getting rather morbid. Too many weeks of such limited entertainment, I suppose. She joined Lucy at the railing and looked out across the water. The sapphire blue on which they traveled extended on all sides as far as they could see. White - tipped ripples frosted the surface from time to time, breaking up the endless expanse. It was breathtaking.

Lucy understood perfectly well what Mrs. Collins meant. Their journey from China felt as though it had taken decades, even though it had just been weeks. And she was ready to set her feet on solid ground again. She’d lived in China for so long, however, that she was nervous to return to the States. Four years was enough to change a person entirely, and she knew she wasn’t the same person she’d been when she left.

Have you talked Mr. Collins into taking you on a tour of California before you continue on your way? she asked.

Yes, but he never did stand much of a chance, did he? Mrs. Collins giggled. I told him it was the least he could do after making me leave home and traipse all over the world. Don’t misunderstand me, my dear—I’m ever so grateful that your father asked him to be his business partner in this trade endeavor, but I didn’t realize that meant I’d become such a seasoned traveler by the end of it.

Lucy hid a smile. It was true that going into business with her father had required the Collins’ to journey quite a distance, but Mrs. Collins most certainly was not seasoned. She spent the first three days of any ocean journey green to the gills in her bunk, and she gawked and fawned over all the new sights just like any tourist.

Will you be touring California, my dear? Mrs. Collins asked.

I’m afraid not. Father wants to get back to Denver as soon as possible. With all the silks and spices we’ve brought with us, he’s anxious to set things to rights in the warehouse.

And you couldn’t send him ahead and travel with us? We’ll be just a few weeks behind you, after all.

That was an interesting thought. Mrs. Collins had become a dear friend to Lucy over the previous four years, stepping in and soothing the hurt when Lucy’s mother died during their first spring in China. It had been Mrs. Collins who had overseen Lucy’s education in the feminine arts of embroidery and cooking, had giggled with her over romantic novels, and had chaperoned her in society. All the things Mrs. Haskell should have done, Mrs. Collins had done instead, and she felt connected to the woman as though she was another mother. However, Lucy knew where her duty lay.

I’m sorry, Mrs. Collins, but Father was telling me just last night how much he needs my help at home. He’s actually thinking of making me a manager in his company.

Mrs. Collins’ eyes grew wide. A manager? My goodness! That’s not something you hear every day—a young woman with such a responsible position. I can see why you wouldn’t want to delay getting started.

And it’s also Father, Lucy went on. He’s not as young as he was when we first left - losing Mother was hard on him, and I don’t believe he’s ever recovered. He’ll be so tired by the time we get home.

Mrs. Collins put her hand on Lucy’s arm. I understand, my dear. I truly do. You must go home and help him set everything to rights. We’ll be along shortly. I doubt I could talk Abner into more than a few weeks of sightseeing, and the men are anxious to discuss their next venture.

I just hope that whatever it is, we’ll get to keep our feet on solid ground for a little while, Lucy replied with a chuckle. This constant rocking motion has worn my nerves clean through.

Believe me, my dear, I understand. When we get home, I plan to take to my parlor sofa for at least a week. I imagine it will take that long for me to stop feeling as though everything is moving beneath me.

They had one more night left at sea, and Lucy spent that night mostly awake, thinking and anticipating. She had been sixteen years old when her father announced his plan to travel to the Orient to explore new merchandise for his importing and exporting business, and she’d detested the idea of going with him. She had a circle of friends and another of beaus, and she argued that she could stay with her aunt and send her parents ahead. But her mother insisted they travel together, and now Lucy was so glad she did. If Lucy had stayed behind and missed saying goodbye to her mother on her deathbed, she would never have forgiven herself.

And now she couldn’t imagine sending her father ahead while she remained behind. Touring California with the Collins would be a great deal of fun, but she refused to be separated from her father for that long. Her heart couldn’t handle it.

Denver, Colorado . . . the place where she’d been born and raised. She wondered how much it had changed, and if the young men who had lined up to dance with her at each party were all married. She supposed she was an old maid now, twenty years old and without a serious beau. One or two of the young British clerks her father had employed in China had been pleasant to her, but that was as far as their interest went. They didn’t want to risk their jobs by offending their employer’s daughter, and it was safest to keep their distance. She sighed, rolling over. They had kept so much distance she had felt quite rejected and alone.

But things would be different now, wouldn’t they? She’d have the chance to meet someone who didn’t work for her father and wasn’t concerned about losing his job if he spent time with her. She might have the opportunity to marry after all. She’d help her father incorporate the new merchandise into his inventory, arrange for buyers, and establish a regular trade route. Then she’d turn the reins over to someone else and retire in a little white house with a dozen babies and a husband who whistled while he polished his boots. That would be heaven.

She had just drifted off when dawn crept in her stateroom window, and she flung her arm across her eyes. She had known the whole time she lay there awake that she would be good for nothing if she didn’t get some sleep, but her insomnia hadn’t been by choice. She’d tried over and over again to make her brain stop churning, but it roiled just as surely and steadily as the water beneath the ship, making sleep impossible. Now it was time to get up, and she felt as though her head had been stuffed with bales of cotton.

She dressed hurriedly, then moved over to her trunk, lifting the lid. She had done most of her packing the day before, leaving just the necessities to be used that morning. She laid her nightgown on top, followed by her brush after she pinned her hair into place. She left out her cape, not knowing if the day was likely to be chilly, and of course her reticule, but everything else went inside, leaving her dresser drawers empty. It was frightening in a way, knowing that this chapter of her life had come to an end and it was time to start a new one.

She lowered the lid of the trunk, but found that it wouldn’t close all the way on its own.

Bother, she muttered. She thought she’d arranged things so they’d fit, but she had done a little shopping at some of the ports along the way - she couldn’t help it. She might never travel that way again, and there were curiosities galore everywhere she looked. Not to mention the bright, shining eyes of the little children whose job it was to charm potential customers. They had been very successful at their task, and now her trunk was paying the price for it.

She pushed down on the lid again, but the infernal thing kept popping open, creating a gap of about two inches. You haven’t got the best of me, she said aloud, hoisting up her skirts so she could sit on the lid and force it into place.

As soon as she plunked down, though, the ship listed to the side, and she tumbled off, hitting the floor with a most ungraceful thunk - her legs jutting out in front of her.

Lucy? Are you all right? Her father, Edwin Haskell, was in the adjoining room, and he must have heard her connect with the floor.

I’m all right, Father. Just caught off guard.

He knocked once, then entered, and Lucy scrambled to pull herself upright and look more dignified. He looked amused, probably able to guess that she’d taken a tumble. He was always chiding her to be more ladylike and had been quite pleased when Mrs. Collins had taken a hand with her, but he must have known that grace was still as foreign to her as some of the lands they’d visited.

He didn’t comment on that, though. I see that you’re nearly ready. Having problems with your trunk?

Just one - it won’t close those last few inches.

Let me give you a hand. He pushed the lid down and held it while she fastened the buckles. There we are. So, what do you think? We’re almost home. Are you excited?

Lucy chuckled. We’re almost ashore, but we’re still a long way from home, Father. Or have you forgotten about the train ride between here and there?

Perhaps I’m choosing to forget it. You know how much I dislike traveling by train.

Which makes me ask you again: why are we keeping the house in Denver? Doesn’t it make more sense for us to move to California, where you’ll be near the docks? With the business you’re in, and now branching out to international trade . . .

He held up a hand. Yes, I know, he said, sounding tired. My choice must seem foolish and illogical, and perhaps someday I’ll change my mind. But for now . . . He pressed his lips together. The last time I was in that house, your mother was there, and now she’s no longer with us. I need to walk through those rooms again and imagine her there at least once more.

Tears sprang to Lucy’s eyes. I’m sorry I’ve pressed you about it, she said, placing her hand on his arm. I didn’t realize. You haven’t spoken about her much since she passed.

I haven’t known what to say, and I didn’t want to make your grief worse, my dear. The truth is, your mother was incredibly special to me, and without her, I’m lost. He patted Lucy’s hand. Thank you for your concern. We’ll muddle through somehow, won’t we?

Of course we will, Father. And I won’t ask about moving again.

He smiled. Oh, I’m sure we’ll move at some point. It’s the most logical thing to do, after all, and will save us quite a bit of train travel. Just not now. Not until I’ve had the chance to lay some memories to rest.

Just then, the boat gave another lurch, and Lucy reached out to steady herself on the wall. What on earth is going on out there?

"I imagine they’re bringing the ship into the dock. There’s always a bit of thumping