Page 34 of Fairest of Heart

“Thank you, my darling.” She hid her triumphant smile in his chest as she snuggled into his embrace. “You’re my hero.”

15

After two days of wrangling telegraphs from half a dozen lawmen, Titus finally had enough corroboration from the other victims to merit questioning Madame LaBelle and her Chicago Theatrical Company. Five out of seven men on his list confirmed attending one of Madame LaBelle’s performances. Three of those admitted to receiving a backstage tour. None of them admitted to any kind of romantic encounter with Madame LaBelle or any of the other actresses or staff. Not that Titus put too much stock in those reports. Hubert Hathaway’s account had been more candid than most. Men of prestige tended to guard their reputations with great diligence. Especially the married ones. What happened behind closed doors stayed behind closed doors.

Good thing Rangers were adept at kicking doors down. Although, he’d have to limit himself to kicking down back doors. A Ranger fishing for a promotion couldn’t afford to anger the wrong people.

Titus stepped onto the train platform in Weatherford, Texas, and immediately spotted a broadside plastered across the depot advertising the “spellbinding” Madame LaBelle at the Haynes Opera House on the square.

Kind of them to point him in the right direction. Titus slung his small knapsack over his shoulder, straightened his hat, and moseyed down Main Street toward the town square.

After tracking the troupe to Granbury, he’d taken the train from Austin, hoping to find them still in town. He’d missed them by two days. Thankfully, Henry Kerr, the opera house owner, had been aware of the next stop on their Western tour and directed Titus to Weatherford.

It felt good to stretch his legs after spending the better part of the day trapped in a railroad car. He contemplated dropping his bag off at the Commercial Hotel and renting a room since he was sure to be stuck here overnight, but if Madame LaBelle and her troupe were due to perform this evening, it’d be better to see them straightaway. The closer to show time it got, the less cooperative they were likely to be.

So he continued his march to the square. Nodded at the pair of men sitting outside the hardware shop playing checkers atop an old barrel, tipped his hat to an older lady exiting a dress shop, and chuckled at the antics of a group of boys running through the streets chasing a frantic chicken that must’ve escaped from a nearby coop. Titus crooked a grin. They reminded him of the chicken herding he and Tate had done as boys. Nothing honed a young man’s reflexes like chasing chickens.

The Parker County Courthouse rose in front of him like a castle, its pale limestone edifice grand as it stretched three stories into the sky. Its central tower stretched even taller. A rounded recess seemed to indicate a clock would be installed in the tower at some point. Probably when the county managed to raise the funds. It really was a sight. Dome-capped roofs at each of the four corners sported red shingles, drawing attention upward. Thin, elongated windows expanded across the top two floors as if a heavenly hand had reached down and stretched the building from two stories into three.

Where had that fanciful thought come from?

Titus ducked his head and strode into the wide square. He needed to focus on business. Not on castle-esque buildings that reminded him of the whimsical Miss Snow.

Miss Snow. Titus grimaced as her far-too-lovely image rose in his mind. Innocent smile. Cheerful disposition. Courageous spirit. Or so he’d thought.

Had she been the woman keeping company with Hathaway and the other wealthy theater patrons? The one stealing their valuables? Or distracting them while a partner committed the actual crime? Had her sweet temperament and guileless aura been an act?

It hadn’t felt like one. Everything about her had seemed genuine. But maybe he was just as susceptible to a woman’s charms as his brother had been. Worse, since he’d been prideful enough to think himself immune.

Would Penelope steal from Doc and the others? The Diamond D hands didn’t have much to tempt a thief, but whoever had been nabbing jewels across Texas specialized in poaching men over the age of forty. Maybe he should stop by the ranch after this interview. Make sure she hadn’t taken advantage of anyone.

’Course, if she had, that would make it a lot easier to rid himself of the annoying feelings that plagued him whenever she crossed his mind. Which was far too often. He was twenty-seven, for heaven’s sake. Too old and sensible to get wobbly over a woman.

“You lost, mister?” A boy around the age of nine stood in front him, head tipped to the side, forehead scrunched.

Apparently, Titus had been so deep in thought he’d stopped in the middle of the square. Get your head on straight, Kingsley.

“I’m looking for the Haynes Opera House.” Better to be perceived as an out-of-place newcomer than a woolgathering sap. “Know where it is?”

“Sure!” The kid swiveled and pointed to the west side of the square. “Right there. Above the grocery.”

Titus pulled a penny out of his pocket and flipped it toward the boy. “Thanks.”

The kid’s eyes widened, but his surprise didn’t keep him from snatching the coin out of the air. “You’re welcome!”

He clutched the coin tightly and took off, no doubt to hunt down his buddies and show off his prize.

Titus grinned, then sobered as he veered around the courthouse and stalked toward the opera house. He might not wear a physical badge, but he carried the weight of the Texas Ranger title and the duty it bestowed. He had a job to do. Even if it meant proving himself a fool for being beguiled by a pretty face.

A large sign stretched the length of the building with white letters that spelled out China Hall Groceries. Since Titus wasn’t hunting potatoes and coffee, he bypassed the door and strode down Dallas Avenue, seeking an exterior staircase. He found one at the rear of the building. The door at the top opened when he tried the latch, and he slipped inside.

People bustled about in a swirl of chaos. Some in costume, some carting props, some in the rafters rigging ropes with sandbags. He must have found the backstage entrance. Titus wound his way through the throng, taking inventory of each person he spied, glad they were too busy to notice his presence. Until a harried woman carrying a dress with more fabric than the theater curtain nearly ran him down.

“Sorry. I . . .” Her mouth closed, and the corners dipped in a frown. “You’re not supposed to be back here. The show doesn’t start for another couple hours.”

Titus touched the brim of his hat and dipped his chin. “I’m not here for the show, miss. I’m here to talk to the manager. Official Ranger business.”

“As in Texas Ranger?”