An Agent for Judith: Pinkerton Matchmakers, #58

By Caroline Clemmons

She has vowed to rescue her brother.

He is determined to protect his group.

They must outwit a cruel and powerful man.

 

Judith McAdams' brother in New Mexico hasn't been heard from since a letter saying he had been shot. In the letter he wrote he was being harassed by a neighbor who wanted his ranch for the water source. She vows to go help him in any way she can. The woman who raised her insists on going. Judith wires the marshal to check on her brother. When he refuses, she goes to the Pinkerton Detective Agency in Denver. She learns she can become a Pinkerton agent if she marries one and seizes the opportunity.

 

Peyton Knight values his job as a Pinkerton agent and is good at being a lawman. To keep the job he reluctantly agrees to a marriage of convenience with Judith. Together they will go to her brother's rescue. Peyton is impressed with the beautiful redhead—if only she would admit he knows best. He even admires his mother-in-law but how did he end up with her on their trip? At least he's found three men he trusts to help him rescue the brother.

 

Their journey is filled with obstacles. Will Judith's brother still be alive by the time they reach him? When they resolve the ranch issue, will Judith and Peyton part ways?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barr26 Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Mar 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223832591

Book preview

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1878

Cheyenne, Wyoming

Judith McAdams had lost count of how many times she’d reread her brother’s letter.

You’re wearing out those papers as many times as you’ve folded and unfolded them, Abigail said. She stood with hands on her slender hips and a frown creasing her face. Like a mother, the cook and housekeeper had come to take care of Judith when her mother died at her birth.

Judith sensed herself growing tenser by the minute. I can’t stop worrying. He’d never willingly skip this long unless something was terribly wrong. He’d been writing to her every Sunday afternoon without fail.

Abigail patted Judith’s shoulder. Remember, there was that time he missed two weeks. Let’s hope and pray this is like that and you’ll hear soon.

Abigail might be trying to reassure Judith, but Abigail appeared as worried as she was.

No, Abigail, it’s been four weeks since this arrived and nothing since. If we don’t hear something soon I’ll shatter into a million pieces. She unfolded the two letters once more.

Dear Sis and Abigail,

I’ve been nursemaid this last week. I was out riding Tuesday and found an elderly rancher, Farley Corrigan, half dead beside the road. I took him to his Rafter C Ranch and nursed him. We were closer there than to town. When I checked, all Corrigan’s cowboys had been run off and I couldn’t leave him alone longer than to ride for the doctor.

Farley was beaten by henchman of his neighbor, Beau Lawson, and I’m sure it was at Lawson’s orders. He wants this ranch for access to the river. Farley never denied him access but Lawson wants to be the sole rancher to own land on each side of the water’s source. The ranch is the prettiest place I’ve ever seen. Mr. Corrigan’s wife died years ago so it needs a good cleaning. Abigail, you would box our ears if we let our home get this dusty. Otherwise, the large hacienda is in good shape.

Love,

Josiah (Mac is what they call me here)

Los Perdidos, New Mexico

Judith unfolded the second letter and reread it.

Dear Sis and Abigail,

Sorry I missed writing last week but a lot has happened. Poor Farley died in spite of everything the doctor and I could do. Yolanda Ramirez from the boardinghouse where I stayed came and helped me care for Farley. Before he passed, he signed the deed to his Rafter C Ranch and all his possessions over to me with the promise that I would never sell to Lawson!

Sis, the deed is registered and I’ve signed it over to you. I’m sending it to you for safekeeping. I have a handwritten will witnessed by Yolanda and Dr. Greer and I’m enclosing it also. You can bring these with you when you come.

If something happens and Lawson wins, bring in the cavalry. The local marshal is worthless. I suspect he’s afraid of Lawson and is probably on his payroll.

Be excited for me! This is my dream ranch—the best ranch I’ve ever seen with the prettiest scenery you’d ever hope to find. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains are visible from the front. A lot of Farley’s cattle have been driven off but there are still enough left for me to make this place pay and I can buy more. I haven’t touched my inheritance yet.

The house is a grand two-story adobe you are both going to love. It’s nicer than anywhere we’ve ever lived or even seen the inside of. You’ll feel like queens here.

I can hardly wait to show you the ranch once this Lawson is out of the picture. Don’t worry about me. I’ll write you when it’s safe for you to come.

Love,

Josiah, Mac

Los Perdidos, New Mexico Territory

P.S. Below is a drawing of how to reach the ranch from Los Perdidos. I’ve also drawn Beau Lawson’s brand and that of Farley Corrigan. I’m deciding what I’ll use. Judith, I figured you would have a suggestion that’s different from these two. – J.

Abigail put an arm around Judith’s shoulders. I hate to see you like this. I can’t stand the thought of you or your brother in trouble. There must be something you can do from here.

I’ll wire the marshal in Los Perdidos and see if he’ll go check on Josiah. I guess we’ll have to call him Mac now.

My boy’s always gonna be Josiah to me. Honey, wire that marshal. We’ll both feel better if one of can do something.

You’re right. I simply have to act in a positive way. Judith crossed to her dresser, tucked a few strands of red hair behind her ears and set her hat on her head. Then she grabbed her shawl. I’ll come straight back.

She walked briskly to the telegraph office. Hello, Mr. Bronson.

The wiry man smiled and greeted her.

Wasting no time, she wrote out the message and handed it to him.

Marshal Los Perdidos New Mexico Territory. Stop. Concerned about my brother Josiah Mac McAdams Stop He is at the Rafter C Ranch Stop I fear he is injured or ill Stop Please ride there and confirm his condition Stop Wire reply collect to me Stop Judith McAdams in Cheyenne Wyoming Territory Stop

She paid and told the telegrapher she’d return the next day to see if there was an answer. At least she’d taken action. She was less than optimistic after what her brother had written about the marshal. He didn’t sound like the kind of person who’d care.

In spite of that, she slept a little better that night. The next afternoon she returned to the telegraph office.

Mr. Bronson looked up when she entered and smiled. Miss McAdams, your answer arrived. He shook his head. You’re not going to be happy.

Dread clutched her heart. What if Josiah really had been injured? She paid and opened the wire immediately.

Cannot spare a man to ride to ranch Stop Saw ranch neighbor in town Stop Says brother is fine Stop Marshal W. Cain Stop

Fury shot through her. The marshal was incredibly lazy or crooked or both. You are right and I am not happy.

She took a deep breath and fought to control her temper. No point fussing at this nice man. Thank you for your help, Mr. Bronson.

He chuckled and held up his hands. There for a minute I was afraid you were going to shoot the messenger.

She forced a smile. I do feel like shooting someone but not you.

She went straight to the local marshal to confer with him. She explained her reasons for concern and asked his advice.

Marshal Dougan shook his graying head. I’m not familiar with New Mexico Territory law. You’d do better consulting someone who works all the states and territories.

Such as?

Pinkerton Detective Agency comes to mind. You can’t call in the cavalry on your own even if you know the marshal has committed a crime. I reckon it might take the governor or at least an official like a judge or the mayor to declare martial law if it’s required.

Do you remember my brother?

He smiled. Of course. He rode with the posse a couple of times before he left. Sharp, excellent tracker, and a dependable man. Sure wish I had him as a deputy—or that he’d take over being marshal for me. He spread his hands. Miss McAdams, if he says things are wrong, then I believe him. I just can’t do anything about it.

Thank you for seeing me, Marshal, and for your advice. When I see my brother, I’ll pass along your kind words.

On the way home she pondered what she could do. For all she knew, this Lawson might have badly beaten Josiah by now. Whether or not that was true, she was certain her brother needed help. She couldn’t decide how to get him the assistance he needed.

When she got home she showed the wire to Abigail.

The marshal here suggested I consult the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Now that I’m twenty-one and received Grandpa’s bequest, we have plenty of money for a change.

Abigail leveled a piercing stare at her. That money’s burning a hole in your pocket, is it? That’s supposed to last you a long time. You spend it like water and there’ll be a long dry spell in your future.

She raised a hand. Now, Abigail, just hear me out. I’m determined to do whatever is necessary to find Josiah. I’m going to Denver to the Pinkerton Detective Agency’s Regional Office. I have no idea how much they charge but I can think of no better use for the funds than finding my brother.

You ought not be going off on your own, young lady. If you’re going to find my boy, I’m going with you. I’m not taking a chance on losing both of you.

You’d better get packed then because I’m leaving as soon as I can. I guess that will be on tomorrow’s train.

First, you go get the railroad schedule and the tickets and make sure of the connections. No point going off without being informed. Then you stop by the book store and see what you can find out about New Mexico Territory near this place where my boy is supposed to be.

I’m ahead of you on the book store. I bought a book about New Mexico last week but it’s dry as dust. Maybe there’s a more interesting one. First, I’ll go to the ticket office.

I’ll make our dinner while you’re gone. Abigail headed for the kitchen.

Later, with the arrangements made and dinner over with, the two of them went to bed early. Departure time would come all too soon tomorrow.

The next morning, the wagon driver Judith had hired unloaded their trunks and valises at the train station then helped the two women down.

Abigail gazed in the direction of their home with a wistful expression. I sure did like that house. Nicest place I ever lived and I have this feeling I’ll never see it again.

Quit being like Lot’s wife and stop looking back. If it makes you feel better, remember the place Josiah described in his letters. Sure sounds pretty. He said it’s larger and nicer than the house here.

I’ve seen this one, though, and I haven’t seen the other. Your father didn’t have to shoot anyone to get the one here.

In a way he did. He shot people in the Army and so did my brother. Hurry, let’s get our valises and get on board.

They found seats and Judith put their valises in the space overhead.

Abigail stretched out a hand. Give me that one with the food and be careful you don’t break the jars. Don’t crush the sandwiches either, Judith. I heard station food is dangerous. Even if there’s a dining car on the train the food will be pricey.

Won’t be as good as yours even if it’s free.

Abigail narrowed her eyes and tilted Judith’s chin so she could examine her face. Uh oh, what did you do? I know when you start sweet talking me you’re up to something.

Judith grinned. I’m not up to anything. I’m just excited to be on our way. I know we’re going to find Josiah.

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Once they arrived in Denver, they found the Pinkerton office before they even checked into a hotel. Judith wanted no time wasted before someone went to help her brother. She left Abigail sitting with their luggage in a reception room off the foyer. A woman gave Abigail a cup of tea and a plate of food and offered the same to Judith. She declined because she was eager to see the Director.

Soon, she sat across from Archie Gordon, the Regional Director. She shared her letters with him. As you can tell, my brother wrote me each Sunday afternoon since he left home no matter where he was. Then there’s the two week skip where he found and nursed Mr. Corrigan. The poor man died in spite of anything Josiah could do. Now it’s been four weeks with no word. I fear my brother is injured and needs assistance. The local marshal refuses to do anything. She handed him the wire she’d received.

Mr. Gordon’s hair was almost as red as hers. Sunlight lit his hair and beard on fire as he studied her papers. She wondered if he’d been teased for being a redhead as she had.

Judith sat with hands folded in her lap in what she hoped appeared a patient pose. Inside she wanted to rail at the man to hurry. Her brother could be dying as she sat here. She believed Josiah was still alive because she was certain she’d know in her heart if he had passed away.

Finally, Mr. Gordon pushed aside the papers. What is it you want us to do, Miss McAdams?

I want to hire one of your agents to accompany me to the ranch and see what’s happened to my brother. If this bully of a neighbor is creating trouble, I want him arrested.

Accompany you? He shook his head. Sorry, but that won’t work. We don’t allow civilians on our cases, Miss McAdams.

"I’m the client, Mr. Gordon. My brother is my only living relative and I insist on going