Chapter Ten

An Unexpected Telegram

That Friday

Adela answered the early morning knock on the Bailey's front door. The delivery boy lifted his head and grinned.

"Morning Miss Adela."

"Good morning to you too, Master Colin. How can I help you today?"

"It's me what's helping you, ma'am. My pa sent me over with an urgent telegram." He extended his skinny arm and dangled the paper in front of her.

"So, he did." Digging into the pocket of her shirtwaist, she retrieved a single coin and offered it. "Take this but don't spend it all on candy unless you plan to share it with your brother and sister. Your mother was furious last time when you were down for two days with a tummy ache."

"I won't buy too much. I promise."

"Then, get going. Your father may have more deliveries for you."

While young Colin skipped down the stone walkway, Adela hastened to open the folded telegram. Not surprisingly, it was from her brother-in-law. While she'd hoped it was news of a new baby, it turned out to be more interference by Peter Wentworth.

‘ Stopped attempt. Alert law .'

Adela grabbed her bonnet and parasol and rushed out the door. She'd find Key and let him know what had happened. Then, because she was tired of the banker's dishonest machinations, she was going to give him a sound piece of her mind.

"Sorry, Miss Adela," Jack Baker said when she stopped at the jail. "Key left about twenty minutes ago. He said he was meeting a Mister Farley at the café. He should be back shortly if you want to wait."

"Can you have him come find me? I'll either be at the bank, or at the dressmaker, depending on how much longer he's away."

"Sure thing. Is there anything I can do in the meantime?"

"No but thank you. This is one situation I need to address myself."

Her steps fueled by determination Adela made her way to the bank. Given it was Friday, the place was abuzz with activity. Miners came and went, picking up their pay packets. Some would leave behind a deposit. Others, she assumed, intended to spend their money both wisely and recklessly. According to Belinda, it was the curse of a town that relied on mines and sawmills for their main source of employment.

"I'd like to speak with Mister Wentworth," she told the young man at the first desk. "Immediately, if possible."

"He's just finishing up with Missus Carlyle, Miss McIntyre. I'm sure he'll have time for you then."

Adela took a seat along the wall and waited, her anger growing with every minute that passed.

"Miss McIntyre," Peter Wentworth said solicitously from the doorway of his office. "Come in, please."

She followed him inside and shut the door behind her. "That's all you have to say, and in so sweet a tone, I'm surprised your teeth aren't falling out."

"What do you mean?" Before she could answer, he added, "I've been thinking about… well… us. Perhaps I was hasty in refusing to marry you. I was surprised, that's all."

"Don't act innocent with me, Peter Wentworth. I know you've been looking into my back accounts at the Denver branch. I also know you've attempted at least three transfers without my permission. I demand to know what you're doing."

"I made it known the last time we talked that I was disappointed you chose to leave your money in Denver. I was only attempting to show you how safe it would be here with me… with us… the Comstock branch."

Adela released a long sigh. "I left the money in my brother-in-law's care because I didn't know you and now, given your nefarious attempts to gain access to my accounts, I don't trust you." Defiantly, she added, "There seems to be a lot of that going around."

"I'll have you know, this bank's reputation is stellar, as is my own."

"Yours, Peter Wentworth," she taunted. "Or, perhaps, you're referring to Sirus Bleeker's reputation."

Wentworth's head snapped up, his faded gray eyes flared with surprise and anger. He circled the desk and grabbed hold of her wrist. "What did you say?"

Adela struggled against the tightness of his grip. "They're onto you, Peter… or whatever your name truly is. It won't be long—"

Her bravado was interrupted by the crashing of the bank's front door. Both she and Wentworth turned toward the sound. Key, Deputy Baker, and the man she assumed to be Thomas Farley stood in the bank's open lobby.

Motioning for both his deputy and Farley to stay back, Key approached Wentworth's office door. Adela's heart lodged somewhere in her throat, driven there by the menacing look on Key's handsome face. When he opened the door and stepped across the threshold, Key's gaze went immediately to her, then to the hold Wentworth had on her wrist, before shifting upward to Peter Wentworth's face.

"Release Miss McIntyre immediately," Key ordered.

Rather than respond, Wentworth tightened his grip and drew her backward toward his desk. "You want her, Marshal, come and get her." Raising his free hand, he stuck a pistol to Adela's side.

Her previous struggle to free herself halted and she drew a breath.

"Are you okay?" Key asked, his gaze connecting with hers.

"I'm fine. Other than being held captive by this low-life con man."

"I'm warning you, Wentworth," Key barked. "Let her go and we can end this now before anyone gets hurt."

"I intend to walk out of here, with Miss Adela as my security," Wentworth insisted. "I've got nothing to lose, so if you try to stop me, I'll shoot her."

"You realize, I could pull my gun and shoot you between the eyes before you pull that trigger," Key warned.

"Marshal, you underestimate my abilities. This pistol has a hair trigger, and the thought of capture gives a man an itchy finger."

Key took a small step forward before turning his focus on her. It seemed as if time were standing still and all she could see was Key. All she wanted to see was Key.

"Adela?"

"Yes, Key?"

"Ah… isn't that sweet," Wentworth taunted. "Barely jilted and you've already taken up with the marshal."

"Mind your manners, Wentworth," Key growled. Turning back to her, he added, "Miss McIntyre, I think this situation calls for The Proper Lady ."

Nodding her understanding, Adela pulled back her arm as far as she could and then let it go, landing a hard blow to Wentworth's rib cage, sending him to his knees gasping for air. Key lunged forward, putting himself between her and Wentworth and knocking the pistol from Wentworth's hand until it slid across the floor and out of reach.

Grabbing the banker by the collar, Key pulled him to his feet. "You're under arrest Peter Wentworth, alias Sirus Bleeker, alias Matthew Grayson, and anyone else we can drum up from your past."

As soon as he'd handed Wentworth off to his deputy, Key returned to where she waited and pulled her into his embrace. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Are you sure you're not harmed?

"I'm not, other than a sore elbow," she confessed.

"While Deputy Baker processes our fugitive, why don't I escort you home? A bit of Bailey sister's coddling will aid both that sore elbow, and the nerves I'm sure you will soon begin to feel."

"Yes, a good cup of tea and maybe a scone should do the trick," she agreed.

"On our way, perhaps you can tell me what the devil you were doing confronting Wentworth on your own."

"Oh, yes. That."

Seated in the parlor later that afternoon, a cup of tea in hand, Adela patiently answered the sister's myriad of questions.

"Weren't you scared out of your wits?" Melinda asked.

"It was rather unnerving, of course. However, with the marshal there to protect me, I knew I'd be safe," Adela explained.

"What happens to Mister Wentworth now?" Belinda wondered.

"According to Key… um… the marshal, he'll be taken to marshal headquarters in Pueblo. They'll send an escort to get Wentworth, but it's likely Marshal Bristol will have to accompany them so that he can present his evidence and give testimony."

Melinda poured more tea before asking, "Will they call on you to testify?"

"Likely not. They have the records from the bank's auditor on his attempts to access my accounts."

"I'm sure you'll be relieved when all this is over," Belinda said.

"Yes, very much so. I hope everything is back to normal be the end of next week, and everyone back where they belong," Adela admitted.

Belinda pursed her lips to hide a broad smile. "Melinda and I agree. Afterall, we'd hate to have the marshal miss the fall barn dance."

"My sister's right," Melinda added. "Especially after getting a peek at that beautiful gown that you're planning to wear."

Comstock's Fall Festival

Saturday's Barn Dance

Two Weeks Later

Adela took one last swipe at the curls falling across her shoulders, pushing them into place so that they skimmed the neckline of her dress. Key would be arriving to call for her any minute and she was as nervous as a duckling being coaxed into the pond for the very first time.

The Bailey sisters had left earlier to help with the organization of the table, chairs, and refreshments, and Adela was grateful for the few extra moments of peace and quiet. She adored Belinda and Melinda, but they were often worse than two mother hens.

A knock sounded at the door and, drawing a breath, she made her way downstairs to answer.

"Good evening, Miss McIntyre," Key greeted.

Standing there in his dark suit and tie, Adela couldn't remember ever seeing such a handsome man. More importantly, a kind and generous man. Key's devotion to the town, and its residents, were one of his best qualities. His reliance on his faith to guide him made him even more of a man in her eyes.

"Good evening, Marshal Bristol."

His dark gaze traveled over her from head to toe, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

"You look absolutely stunning."

"Well then, given how handsome you are in that fancy suit, I'd say we make one very attractive couple."

"We're a couple, are we?" he teased.

"Well, we are courting. Or, at least, that's what you claimed when you returned from Pueblo."

"I suppose it was, but I've been rethinking what I said."

Adela's heart skipped a beat. What could he possibly mean ?

"You don't want to court me?"

"I think we've known each other long enough, and certainly weathered enough storms together, that perhaps we could skip the formal courting stage and go straight to an engagement."

"An engagement?" she squeaked. The urge to pinch herself to make sure she was awake had her clenching her hands at her sides.

"Assuming you feel as strongly about me as I do about you." Taking her hands in his, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her fingertips. "I love you Adela McIntyre, and I'd like for you to be my wife."

"I love you too. I'd be honored to become Missus Adela Bristol."

Key dug into his vest pocket and withdrew a small velvet pouch. "This was my grandmother's ring. I know she would have loved you too and would want you to have this as an engagement ring."

The diamond and pearl ring he poured into his palm was breathtaking. When he slid it onto her finger, Adela was certain she would faint.

"It's beautiful."

"A beautiful ring for a beautiful lady." Taking her hand, he pulled her out onto the stoop. "The barn dance awaits. What better place than among many of our friends to make our grand announcement."

"What better place indeed."