Fair Game

  Fair Game

  Carol Cox

  Aspen Hill Press

  Copyright © 2020 by Carol Cox

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidences are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Thanks for Reading Fair Game!

  A Note from the Author

  Excerpt from Book 3 - A Bride So Fair

  Also by Carol Cox

  1

  July, 1893

  Nebraska was never like this.

  Dinah Mayhew leaned her elbows on the window sill at the end of the second floor hallway and stared down the length of Blackstone Avenue. Brick houses lined the east side of the street, faced by frame dwellings on the west. From her perch, Dinah could see carriages and cabs plying their trade up and down the avenue on this brilliant blue Chicago afternoon. And people, always people in abundance.

  She cupped her chin in her hands and felt a broad grin stretch across her face. Everything within her view was a far cry from Uncle Everett's farm—a perfect setting for starting a new chapter in her life.

  Footsteps clattered on the lower stairs, and a voice floated up to her. "Are you getting settled in, dear? Is everything to your liking?"

  "It's perfect, Mrs. Purvis. Thank you."

  "I've put the kettle on," the disembodied voice continued. "Come down when you're finished, and we can get acquainted over a nice cup of tea."

  "That will be lovely. I'll be down in a few minutes." Dinah turned back to the window and returned to her musings, her gaze following the line of the street until trees and rooftops blended as one in the distance. And beyond those rooftops...

  A sigh of sheer bliss escaped her lips.

  Only a month ago, she'd been reading newspaper reports that detailed the way Chicago had thrown her doors open to the world, green with envy at the knowledge she would never be among the fortunate ones who got to visit the grand exposition with all its wonders. But as of today, she was here in Chicago—not only to see the great fair, but to be a part of it! Her feet tapped out a quick jig on the hardwood floor.

  Everything had fallen into place more smoothly than she could have imagined. Take this boarding house, for example. She had fallen in love with it the moment she laid eyes on the red brick exterior. It fulfilled at the criteria she sought in her new place to live: clean and neat and within walking distance of the fairgrounds. Her room might be small, but it was hers and hers alone, with a motherly landlady who made her feel at home as soon as she stepped inside the entry hall. She couldn't have asked for more.

  "The tea is ready," Mrs. Purvis called.

  "Coming." Dinah gave one final glance out the window and hurried down the hallway to the head of the stairs. She ran her fingers along the panel of the door to her room when she passed it and smiled at the thought of the letter tucked securely away among the camisoles in her top dresser drawer—the letter that had opened up a whole new window on her future.

  Mrs. Purvis hovered at the bottom of the stairs. "I started to set the tea things up in the parlor." She gave a little bounce that set her springy, iron gray curls bobbing around her cheery face. "Then I said to myself, why not just sit in the kitchen like a couple of old friends? I hope you don't mind. I have a feeling we're going to get on very well."

  The homey thought made Dinah smile. "That sounds fine."

  "This way, then. Straight through the parlor and past the dining room." Mrs. Purvis motioned for Dinah to precede her. "I'm looking forward to getting acquainted. I haven't traveled much in recent years, but I enjoy getting to know about other places from my boarders. You can tell me all about—"

  A peremptory knock rattled the front door. Mrs. Purvis tilted her head to one side. "Now who could that be?" She bustled ,over to the door and peered out the front window. The pleasant expression slid from her face like ice melting on a summer day. "Henrietta Boggs. Whatever is she doing here?"

  "Is everything all right?" Dinah asked.

  "Shh!" The landlady pressed her finger to her lips and dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper. "Maybe she'll think no one is home." The next instant, her shoulders slumped. "But that wouldn't be right, would it? I guess there's nothing else for it." With a look that reminded Dinah of a chicken cornered by a fox, she reached for the doorknob.

  "Henrietta. What a surprise."

  A tall, broad-shouldered woman clad in battleship gray swept into the small entry hall with nary a glance at Dinah. "Good day, Ethelinda. I've just gotten back from tending to my sister, and I knew you would want to hear all about my trip." She lifted her chin and stared at Mrs. Purvis down the length of her prominent nose. "And I, of course, am eager to find out what has been going on in the neighborhood during my absence. Let's go have a nice, long chat. I have all afternoon." She moved toward the parlor with the relentless momentum of a barge.

  Mrs. Purvis gave a little yip and trotted off in her wake.

  Another knock sounded at the door. Mrs. Purvis started as though she'd been stung. She turned a beseeching look on Dinah. "Be a dear and answer that, will you?" Darting a quick glance over her shoulder, she sidled closer and whispered, "The last time I left that woman alone for more than five seconds, I caught her going through my ledger."

  Dinah chewed on the inside of her lip and tried not to laugh aloud in the face of her landlady's obvious distress. "You go right ahead. I'll take care of everything."

  Mrs. Purvis gave Dinah a quick squeeze and hurried after her uninvited guest. Dinah bit back a grin. It appeared she wouldn't lack for entertainment during her stay in Chicago.

  The knock came again, louder this time. Dinah swung the door open wide and felt her jaw sag.

  * * *

  Time hung suspended as she gazed into light brown eyes that seemed to look into her very soul. She blinked and drew back, pressing one hand to her throat. "Excuse me, did you say something?"

  A slow smile played across her visitor's lips. Dinah decided she liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, splaying lines of good humor across his upper cheeks.

  "I said I wanted to extend a special invitation to everyone who lives here." He held out a flyer.

  Dinah reached to take the sheet of paper, then pulled her hand back. "Oh, I don't live here. I mean, I do in a way, but..." Her voice trailed off. Idiot! He'll think you're simpleminded, the way you've stared and stammered. With an effort, she pulled her attention away from his captivating gaze and drew herself erect. "I mean to say, I only arrived in Chicago today.
I'll be staying at this boarding house, so yes, I guess I do live here." She clamped her lips together before she made any more of a fool of herself.

  The crinkles around his eyes deepened, and he held out the flyer again. "In that case, I'd like to invite you and everyone else who lives here to attend a meeting tonight on Michigan Avenue. It's part of Mr. Moody's World's Fair campaign."

  This time Dinah accepted the paper and held it tight between her fingers. The man's smile broadened, and Dinah basked in the approval that shone in his eyes. She stared into them again, noting the golden flecks barely visible against the light brown irises. The color of caramel, she thought. Like the kind her mother used to stir together on the stove.

  Right now, the directness of his gaze made her feel as gooey as one of those melted candies. If he kept looking at her like that, she might dissolve into a puddle right there at his feet. The notion brought a flush to her cheeks, warming her more than the heat of the July afternoon.

  "Amos B. Hall will be preaching tonight." The stranger's voice held a hint of suppressed laughter. "I hope you'll be able to come."

  "It sounds like fun." Dinah winced, wondering if the response sounded as inane to him as it did to her.

  "More along the lines of inspiring or soul-stirring, I'd say." With a pleasant nod, he turned and trotted down the porch steps, seeming to take some of the afternoon sunshine with him. He looked back long enough to give her a cheerful wave, then started toward the house next door.

  Dinah slumped against the doorframe and stared after him, weak-kneed after the encounter.

  "What was that man doing here?"

  Dinah jerked upright so quickly she thumped the back of her head against the doorjamb. She clapped her hand to the tender spot and tried to blink away the stars that blurred her vision.

  Mrs. Boggs stepped up beside her and pointed toward the sidewalk. "That man! What did he want?"

  Dinah gaped at the woman's brusque demand and held out the flyer. "He came to invite us to a tent meeting."

  Mrs. Purvis edged out from behind her neighbor's imposing bulk and peered outside. "Now, Henrietta, he looks like a nice young man."

  Very nice, Dinah amended silently.

  "Pah!" Mrs. Boggs's jowls quivered. "That just shows how much you know about human nature, Ethelinda Purvis. Why, more than once, I've seen him out on the streets talking to saloonkeepers and..." A wave of red suffused her ample cheeks. "To women of ill repute. There's no decent word for it. I find it appalling that he would come up here bold as you please and try to make the acquaintance of your new boarder, using the guise of a religious gathering."

  "His coming here had nothing to do with me," Dinah protested. "The invitation was for everyone who lives here." On impulse she added, "I'm sure he'll stop at your door before long." She found the neighbor's horrified gasp almost satisfying enough to outweigh the twinge in her conscience.

  "If he does, I'll soon send him packing. The very idea of a man who consorts with people of the lowest classes coming to a respectable neighborhood like this!"

  "Seems to me the Bible has a good bit to say about Jesus consorting with sinners," Mrs. Purvis muttered.

  Mrs. Boggs drew herself up. "That trusting nature of yours is going to get you into trouble some day. Mark my words, Ethelinda, one day you'll rue your willingness to take in total strangers."

  She fixed Dinah with a steely look. "And you, young lady, you'll do well to heed what I say and stay away from that man. Consider yourself warned." She exited with a huff and stalked down the steps toward a house across the street.

  Dinah watched the retreating figure with a sense of awe. "Goodness!"

  Mrs. Purvis sagged back against the wall beside the walnut hall tree and fanned herself with her hand. "That woman is the nosiest person I have ever met. She was in the middle of telling me how I ought to rearrange my furniture when she finally stopped long enough to draw breath and heard that young man's voice. Then she charged back out here like a warhorse."

  She glanced into the hall-tree mirror and reached up to pat her drooping curls back into place. "At least it got her sidetracked, and she didn't stay all afternoon. That just goes to prove every cloud has its silver lining." The corners of her mouth turned down. "But we missed our lovely tea."

  "Why don't you sit down in the parlor and let me get it?" Dinah offered. "You look like you need to catch your breath."

  In the time it took to reheat the water for a fresh pot of tea and carry the laden tray to the parlor, Mrs. Purvis had made a remarkable recovery. Her curls had regained their spring, and her eyes sparkled.

  "This is very good of you." She took one of the floral-patterned cups and saucers from the tray Dinah held out to her. "It seems off-kilter for me to be served something from my own kitchen, especially when you've barely arrived."

  "It was no bother." Dinah set the tray on the low table between them and popped a macaroon into her mouth. "You've been very kind to me. I can't tell you how glad I am to have found such a pleasant place to live."

  Mrs. Purvis beamed and wiped a crumb from her lips. "And I'm pleased to have someone as thoughtful as you as a boarder. We'll get along, I can tell. I'm just glad you didn't let Henrietta's visit put you off."

  "Does she really go through your things?"

  "Like a detective looking for clues." The landlady shook her head. "She's been in Ohio the past few weeks, taking care of her sister, who was gravely ill. Apparently the sister made a remarkable recovery, and Henrietta returned last evening. It was nice while it lasted, though I suppose it's horrid of me to say such a thing."

  A quick grin tilted her lips. "But as long as I'm saying it, I can't help but wonder if the prospect of sending Henrietta packing didn't give her poor sister a good reason to get better as quickly as she did."

  The unexpected comment caught Dinah off guard, and laughter made her choke on her second macaroon. "I'm sorry," she said when she regained her breath. "I shouldn't laugh, but after seeing her in action, the thought of having her around for weeks on end..." Laughter convulsed her again.

  Mrs. Purvis nodded sagely. "And being confined like that, with no chance to get away. It would be enough to raise me from my sickbed, that's for certain."

  "She does seem to be a woman of strong opinions." Dinah blotted her mouth with her napkin.

  "That's been the case as long as I've known her. She didn't waste a moment passing judgment on that poor young man, did she? I'm only glad he didn't hear all the things she said."

  At the memory of those caramel-colored eyes, Dinah felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips. "So am I."

  Mrs. Purvis clicked her tongue and began collecting the tea things, waving away Dinah's efforts to help. "And all because he was nice enough to invite us to that meeting." She carried the tray back toward the kitchen, mumbling.

  The meeting! Caught up in the drama of Mrs. Boggs spouting portents of doom like a Greek prophetess, Dinah had forgotten the purpose of his visit. Her earlier exuberance reasserted itself. Little as she wanted to admit it, she found the prospect of spending her first evening in Chicago alone in her room somewhat daunting. Why not go to the meeting? At the very least, it would fill in some of the empty time.

  And there was always the possibility she might catch a glimpse of their handsome visitor again.

  Retracing her steps to the front porch, she peered down the avenue and drew in a deep breath. The very air seemed to exude a sense of excitement.

  Oh yes! If she was looking for adventure, it appeared she had come to the right place.

  Or maybe adventure had come to the right place to find her.

  2

  "Ah, the prodigal returns at last." The pleasant-faced woman shoved an armload of slim booklets at Seth Howell and pointed to a section of benches. "I've nearly finished putting the songbooks out on the seats. That area still needs them, though."

  "Sorry to be so late, Mrs. Hammond."

  "I was afraid I'd wind up having to do the whole job myself.
I thought maybe you'd gotten lost." The concern in her expression belied her sharp words.

  "Ted Murphy is sick today, so I had to distribute all his flyers in addition to my own. It took a lot longer than I expected."

  "Ah, that explains it. Make sure you straighten the rows as you go. The seats get knocked out of line every night." Mrs. Hammond tugged the end of a bench into place as she spoke. "How did things go today?"

  "Not bad." Seth reached the end of a row and looked back to make sure he had lined up the seats according to Mrs. Hammond's standards. "Better than usual, actually." With the exception of that saloon keeper I woke up, he added to himself. But he didn't see any need to mention that little episode to his coworker.

  Mrs. Hammond stepped back and gave the section of seats a final survey. "Do you expect to see a lot of the people you talked to here tonight?"

  "I hope to. In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if a good many of them came." He shook his head. "Amazing, isn't it? Even when we're up against the biggest exposition the world has ever seen, the crowds just keep getting bigger."

  Mrs. Hammond's plump features creased into a radiant smile. "Mr. Moody knew what he was doing when he planned this evangelistic campaign in conjunction with the fair. Truly, the harvest is plentiful. I pray the Lord will reap a good many souls tonight."

  Seth nodded. He had prayed for the same thing as he tramped the streets handing out flyers during the long afternoon. He continued to set out booklets and align the benches by rote while his thoughts played back over the places he had visited. They came to a stop when he remembered a certain diminutive, dark-haired young lady at the red brick house on South Blackstone Avenue.