Storing Up Trouble by Jen Turano

Author:Jen Turano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction;Romantic suspense fiction;Christian fiction;FIC042030;FIC042040;FIC027050
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2020-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

“Ah, Norman, there you are, darling. Had a nice run, did you?”

Norman used the tail of his shirt to blot his dripping face, turning to find his mother advancing toward the carriage house, determination in her every step, something that had him shuddering ever so slightly. Forcing a smile, he nodded. “It was a nice run, Mother, although it wasn’t as peaceful as I would have liked, not with Agent Cochran wheezing so much as he ran beside me.”

Mary drew to a stop beside Norman, looked around, then frowned. “Where is Agent Cochran?”

“I left him by the front fountain. He was in desperate need of a rest, so last I saw of him, he was sticking his bare feet in the water, looking quite as if he was about ready to toss up his accounts.”

“I do hope he doesn’t toss up those accounts directly into the fountain. That would be most unpleasant.”

“Indeed, although he wouldn’t be in that danger if he’d taken my suggestion of changing out of his clothes and making use of the running attire I offered to lend him after he insisted on accompanying me on my morning run. What I offered is much cooler than what he was wearing and more appropriate to run in.”

“You’re not wearing running attire, dear.” Mary gestured to his clothing. “You’re wearing what’s known as bathing attire, complete with a striped sleeveless shirt, which one normally expects to see a gentleman wearing when he’s at the beach, not running down Prairie Avenue.”

“True, but bathing attire is far more comfortable than the trousers and tight shirts some gentlemen wear when they participate in strenuous activity. And even bathing attire isn’t as comfortable as the short pants I tried out, something you insisted I abandon before I made it past the main house.”

“Those short trousers showed entirely too much of you.”

“So you said, and quite adamantly. That is exactly why I abandoned them, not wanting you to suffer a fit of the vapors every morning when you glimpsed me running—well, that and I didn’t care to suffer through lectures from you over breakfast.”

“I rarely lecture you.”

“You do, as can be proven by how often you bring up the need for a Pinkerton man to dog my every step, even though I’ve stated time and time again that I don’t need one. It’s not as if the culprit behind the theft of my research papers has had enough time to figure out he’s in possession of faulty information, nor do I expect him to come to that realization for months.”

“You were accosted on the street only a few days ago.”

“Perhaps, although I’m convinced I was simply the target of an inept pickpocket.” He dashed a hand over a forehead that was still perspiring. “However, because I know you’ll fret if I insist on getting rid of the Pinkerton men, I’ll let them continue following me for now, even if I do feel it’s a waste of their time and your money.”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you dear.

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