Storing Up Trouble, стр. 1

Books by Jen Turano

Gentleman of Her Dreams: A LADIES OF DISTINCTION Novella from With All My Heart Romance Collection

A Change of Fortune

A Most Peculiar Circumstance

A Talent for Trouble

A Match of Wits

After a Fashion

In Good Company

Playing the Part

At Your Request: An APART FROM THE CROWD Novella from All For Love Romance Collection

Behind the Scenes

Out of the Ordinary

Caught by Surprise

Flights of Fancy

Diamond in the Rough

Storing Up Trouble

Grand Encounters: A Harvey House Brides Novella from Serving Up Love

Published by Bethany House Publishers

11400 Hampshire Avenue South

Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

www.bethanyhouse.com

Bethany House Publishers is a division of

Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

Ebook edition created 2020

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—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

ISBN 978-1-4934-2508-2

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services

Store shelves and part of counter courtesy of Josephson’s Clothing Store, Red Wing, Minnesota

Cash register courtesy of Goodhue County Historical Society, Red Wing, Minnesota

Base, column, and finial of glove holder courtesy of Pottery Place Antiques, Red Wing, Minnesota

Author is represented by Natasha Kern Literary Agency.

For Al

Because surviving thirty years of marriage to me

certainly deserves a bit of recognition.

Love you!

Jen

Contents

Cover

Half Title Page

Books by Jen Turano

Title Page

Dedication

Epilogue

About the Author

Back Ads

Back Cover

Chapter 1

SEPTEMBER 1886

The truth of the matter was this—she, Miss Beatrix Waterbury, had been banished from New York, and all because she’d had the great misfortune of landing herself in jail . . . twice.

Granted, misleading her mother about Mr. Thomas Hamersley and the romantic relationship they didn’t share, what with how Thomas was now engaged to another woman, hadn’t helped the situation. Nevertheless, she truly hadn’t thought her mother would make good on her threats to ship her off to stay with Aunt Gladys, but apparently she’d been wrong about that.

Smoothing red curls that had escaped their pins back into place, Beatrix lurched against the small sink of the retiring room as the train came to yet another screeching stop. Realizing the train had probably stopped at Crown Point Station, which meant Chicago was only an hour or so away, she hurried out the door and toward the Pullman car she’d been enjoying on her long journey from New York City to Chicago.

Even though she was hardly looking forward to a stay with her aunt Gladys, a lady she barely knew but distinctly remembered as being a somewhat querulous sort, Chicago was considered an up-and-coming city, which meant . . .

“Watch where you’re going.”

Beatrix stumbled to a stop, her forward progress brought to a rapid end due to the large man who’d stepped in front of her and whom she’d just barreled into, a man who was certainly solid and most assuredly surly, given the tone of his voice. When she lifted her head, the apology she’d been about to voice got stuck in her throat as her gaze settled on the man now blocking her way.

That he was not what she’d been expecting to see in a Pullman car was an understatement.

Dirty dark hair straggled over the man’s face, but it wasn’t the hair that held her attention; it was the vivid white scar running from the man’s hairline down to his chin. It was a scar that suggested the man was used to rough living, a notion further encouraged when Beatrix shifted her attention to his small, beady eyes that were filled with something that caused the hair on the nape of her neck to stand to attention. Uncomfortable with the manner in which the man was looking at her, Beatrix dropped her gaze, sucking in a sharp breath when she realized the man was grasping a deadly looking pistol in his beefy hand—a pistol that was aimed her way.

Her head snapped up. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” she demanded, which had the man blinking his beady eyes. “This is hardly an appropriate setting to have a pistol out, so I’ll thank you to tuck that right away.”

“I ain’t the one that’s taken leave of my senses. This is a holdup, it is, and I’ll thank you to stop yapping and hand over that bag you got swinging from your wrist.”

Hoping she’d misheard what sounded like ominous words indeed, Beatrix glanced around the compartment, finding many of the passengers sitting still as statues, the gentlemen looking furious, while some of the ladies were dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs.

Any hope she’d been mistaken died in a single heartbeat.

Switching her attention back to the man who was evidently intent on robbing her, Beatrix frowned. “Shall I assume the train hasn’t stopped at Crown Point?”

“’Course not. We’d hardly be successful robbin’ a train at a station, would we, but enough with the questions. I’ll have that bag, and quickly if you know what’s good for you.”

Beatrix clutched the bag closer to her. “This bag has no monetary value and was made for me by a dear child who’d be devastated to learn I no longer have possession of it.”

The man took a step closer to Beatrix, so close in fact that the pistol he was holding pushed into her side. “You’re tryin’ my patience.”

“I’d give him the bag if I were you,” a gentleman called out from behind the man sticking a pistol in her side.

Although Beatrix knew that was sound advice indeed, the idea of handing over her belongings to a thief left a sour taste in her mouth.

She was not a lady tolerant of those