got someone on the inside,” Tom said immediately.
Sam drew his brows together. “How can you know that?”
“They were ready. At night. Doesn’t take much to deduce.”
Sam sighed. “Well, then go ahead. What’s your take on things?”
“Wells Fargo is aware of all you just said. They think it is likely the same group of thieves. Their ploy was successful, which makes Wells Fargo believe they’ll target you again. They’ll gain a certain arrogance in succeeding. Criminals do. And the fact that you are so close to Mexico makes it all too easy for them to slip over the border and disappear.”
Sam listened, but then pulled back, his gaze clouding over. “I just can’t get past why the agency sent you after what happened. Because of you, my sister is a widow.”
The barely controlled emotion shook Tom up. He had known, even though it had been an entire year, that he would encounter anger. Still, Sam’s attitude made him feel all over again how unworthy he was to be alive when Cranston, Amanda’s husband, wasn’t. “I’ll get the job done, Sam. If anything, I have more at stake in the outcome than any other field agent.”
Sam let out a sigh. “Guess you have something there.”
“Believe me, no one wants this more than I do. I don’t care how messy things get.”
Sam clasped his hands over his stomach and blew out a breath.
Tom could tell he wasn’t getting through to him. “Let me put it another way. Wells Fargo hired me. Not you. I answer to them so I am going to do this whether I have your cooperation or not. Without it, there is more of a chance I won’t be successful and you may lose more gold. If we work together things will go smoother. We can collaborate and figure out a few moves that keep us ahead of any robbery.”
Sam snorted. “Persistent, aren’t you?”
He was still on shaky ground. That wasn’t a yes from Sam, but at least he was able to joke about it a little. “I know what I have to do and thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You’re welcome.” Sam huffed, still tense. Then slowly he relaxed his shoulders. “However, I agree. We do have to work together.”
Tom waited. This entire meeting was awkward as they both tried to assess where they stood with each other.
“You’ve got nerve, Barrington, showing up here after all that has happened,” Sam finally said. “But then maybe that’s exactly what is needed in this situation.”
Nerve had nothing to do with it. What he had was nothing to lose. He was through living his life in the shadows like an injured dog, the way he had for the past year. Losing his partner had eaten at him until he barely recognized himself.
“I tell myself there was no way you could have prevented Cranston’s death,” Sam said. “Given the same circumstances, I might have called it just like you did. Still doesn’t mean that I can accept what happened.”
Whatever had made Sam say that much, Tom was grateful for it. At least they were talking. “I don’t expect you to. I wish it had gone the other way.” He could commiserate and tell him that not a day went by that he didn’t regret what had happened. He could still see his partner crumpling to the floor, still see the shock on his face as his life bled out. They had orchestrated any number of scenarios to make sure they each had each other’s back, just not the presence of a little boy who should never have been on that train car in the first place.
“But it didn’t,” Sam stated. “And along with Cranston, Amanda’s life was destroyed.”
Amanda blamed him, but no more than he did himself. Surely she hoped he would have died instead of her husband. It was the number one reason he didn’t want a wife or family with the type of job he had. It wasn’t fair to them. He’d talked to Cranston a number of times before the man married, trying to dissuade him from getting hitched. His warning had fallen on deaf ears. And now it had all come to pass. Being right didn’t make it any easier to swallow.
“I heard she had a girl.”
For the first time, Sam smiled. “Lacy is a little over a year old now.” He stood and paced the length of the small room twice, then came back to stand in front of him. “All right, Tom. It is obvious this is personal. I can’t help but think I’d want to do the same thing if it were me. Meet me at the bank first thing Monday morning. I’ll have your stipend and we can hash out any further details then.”
Tom stood. It felt as if the first obstacle had been overcome. After the ride south, his horse needed another day of rest and so did he before heading into the backcountry. “Fair enough, but I want to leave immediately afterward. I need to get an idea of the lay of the backcountry.”
Pastor Warner’s sermons usually held her attention, but this morning Elizabeth couldn’t concentrate one wit on his words. She found herself checking the pews behind her, scanning for Tom’s presence. When she didn’t see him, she wondered why she even hoped he might attend services. The thought exasperated her. Her brother would call her naive and foolish, and in this instance, she would agree with him. When Tom was posted here, he would attend services with the others from the fort. It was a way for them to mingle with those in the community and also a way to escape the daily sameness at Fort Rosecrans. But now he was no longer in the military and he certainly didn’t have a stake in anything in La Playa.
As the pastor droned on, Elizabeth’s thoughts drifted back to when Tom had been posted here in town. The memories of him came back as vivid as though it were yesterday. Especially the last time she’d seen him.
It had been near the end of the workday, that day in late July. The daylight lingered long after the last customer had left the store. She had yanked a bolt of fabric out from under the stack of other bolts and spread it on the table, thinking that the creamy white cotton would be perfect for pillow cases. It was for her trousseau and it was one thing she knew would be appreciated if only by her. Preston had stopped by earlier and listened with a disinterested expression at her idea for crocheting edging out of the same color thread and adding pink rose florets for further decoration. “Feminine nonsense,” he called it. Her brother had chuckled condescendingly and the two of them had left for a drink at the saloon. Those two, she had come to realize, were cut from the same cloth. She remembered that the thought had bothered her.
Earlier that morning, Terrance had accepted his birthday present—a deep reddish-brown shirt she’d sewn with embroidered initials on the pocket. She’d known by his expression he didn’t care for it. When had he become so difficult to please? Seemed all he liked were personally tailored suits from that Marston’s store in San Diego. How could her sewing hope to compete with that?
It was a relief that he had chosen to spend the evening with his lady friend in the city. After the shirt fiasco, she wouldn’t have known what to do to celebrate his birthday. He had even set aside the cake she’d baked, saying he’d taste it later. And then he’d left for San Diego! A day-old cake was preferable to a few more moments with his sister!
A knock sounded at the doorpost. She should have closed the door after the last customer but the summer day had been so warm that even her thick braid had felt like a heavy blanket lying down her back.
“Miss Morley?”
At the sound of Corporal Barrington’s deep voice, delight had spread through her. This was a surprise! He’d said he had duty. Smiling inwardly, she smoothed the fabric once more and then turned to the door.
“Permission to enter requested, miss.”
He looked gallant standing there in his blue uniform, his yellow bandanna fluttering at his neck from the light evening breeze. The uniform set off the blue in his eyes so perfectly. She remembered wondering if there was a special event at the fort that day.