Page 1 of Chloe's Christmas Escape
Chapter One
November 1865, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Chloe Kingston’s eyes darted back and forth in time with her father’s pacing behind his desk. She could feel the water dripping from the heavy fabric of her skirt and pooling beneath her bare feet, but she didn’t dare move to wipe it up.
The office was already small, dimly lit, and a little claustrophobic. But right now, her fear, her da’s anger and Marshal Masters’ quiet looming presence made it practically unbearable. Her chest burned from holding her breath. At last, her father’s incessant pacing ended, and she let out a deep sigh of relief.
Sean Kingston’s face became grim, and his eyes widened as he raised his arm, slamming his hand down on the desk. The force of the hit reverberated throughout the room, causing ink bottles, a blotter, and even a leather ledger to jump against the polished wooden top.
“How does this keep happening!” Da shouted, his eyes locked on the U.S. Marshal. Her cheeks flushed hot with the embarrassment of having Marshal Masters haul her into Da’s office like a naughty child. She hadn’t even done anything!
Other than witnessing… Chloe shuddered at the thought, sending small droplets of water from her damp locks onto the wide leather chair beneath her fingers. Curling her fingers deeper into the worn leather, she prayed the chair would provide some protection from Da’s temper.
Marshal Masters lifted his hand in protest. “Mr. Kingston, I don’t know how to explain why your daughter keeps coming upon dead bodies.” The marshal cast an accusing glare over his shoulder as if she was choosing to make his life harder before turning back to her father once more. “And she finds them in the most unlikely of places.”
Da walked back and forth, his eyes distant as he considered the situation. With each pass, his movements became more agitated, a silent anxiety bubbling beneath the surface of each gesture. She could see the wheels turning in his head as he desperately searched for an answer. Chloe took a few careful steps back, not wanting to break his concentration or take up too much space with her presence. He’d done this countless times before when working out a problem, but the silence that hung in the air between them was suffocating her with its anticipation.
It wasn’t like she enjoyed finding dead men.
Her first—she stumbled on the first in the alley, running between Da’s office and their home. The second literally fell out of a window and landed on the street in front of her.Then there was today.
Today was different. She was on her way home from the seamstress’s house when shouting drew her attention to the waterfront. She arrived just in time to watch two large men throw another smaller, very much alive, man into the river. Then they’d fired shots into the water, and she’d fled as quickly as possible to Marshal Masters’ office.
After she found the second body, the lawman had been very clear that should something else occur, Chloe was to come to him directly. She was not about to send a runner or go home and wait for Da.
“We could send her away.”
Da’s voice cut through the air, and her head snapped backwards as if he’d slapped her.
Send her away? Shehadn’t done anything!
Marshal Masters rubbed a hand across his face, looking back and forth between parent and child. “Do you have somewhere to send her?”
Da shook his head. They didn’t know anybody out west. Da built his family business in Pittsburgh and most of their friends and family had stayed within the borders of Pennsylvania.
Her mouth trembled, and she bit her lower lip as the corners of her eyes moistened with tears. She blinked hard several times, trying to hold back the emotion that was threatening to escape. She had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday, and she had no plans of ever leaving Pennsylvania.
“Why would you send me away?”
Her siblings were here, and other than Devlin’s fascination with trains, it didn’t seem like any of them would ever leave. Da took a deep breath, eyes focused on the marshal who gave a tiny nod.
“Come here, me girl.” Da stretched out an arm and, like a mouse, she scurried quickly to his side, where he hugged her tightly. “Chloe, there’s a chance that someone saw you. It may have happened today, or at one of your other…” he cleared his throat, “…incidents. It’s not safe for you here until we get this sorted.”
The marshal glanced up at the ceiling before blowing out a heavy breath. “Miss Kingston, what you saw today was intentional. Those men don’t leave witnesses behind.”
Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she turned her face into her father’s chest. Marshal Masters’ words made her stomach plummet, a fear she’d been doing her best to ignore since it first crept into her thoughts, now taking hold of her with a vengeance. A sob escaped her and her da pulled her into his chest, letting her cry while the men talked over her head.
“What do we do?” Da’s chest rumbled against her cheek, and she smiled through her tears.
“I have a nephew. He’s a marshal as well and newly released from his military duties. Currently, he’s in Chicago, but he’s leaving in the next fortnight and headed out to a small town in Colorado. Posted an ad in the paper looking for a wife before he leaves. I think that would be a good option.”
“Marry her to a man I do not know?” Da’s accent deepened, as it did when his emotions were high. Chloe wasn’t sure she liked the idea of being married off to a stranger, but she didn’t want to be the next dead person in Pittsburgh. Worse yet, what if it was one of her younger siblings?
“Taking his name changes hers if they recognized her. That, plus his badge, adds a layer of protection that we cannot give her right now.”
Chloe stepped back as her da gave her a nod. She felt rage boiling in the pit of her stomach and whipped around to give the lawman a fierce look.
“You don’t want to deal with the problem. Your solution is to turn me away, but what are you going to do about the men that are murdering men in this town?” She clenched her jaw and felt her fingernails digging into her skin as her hands balled into tight fists at her sides.
