Chapter 3 Dinner party

Late that afternoon...

Artie was busy at the stove in the galley when he heard the front door of the varnish car slam shut. He paused, assuming the guests would enter through the more formal back door at the car's steps, and checked the time. Only four o'clock, he thought, too early for the women to arrive. He returned to stirring the bouillon he was cooking on the stove, adding a pinch of salt. He felt, more than heard, his partner in the hallway. He turned to look and saw Jim standing in the galley's doorway, face flushed, fists balled on his hips. "What?" Artie asked, his heart skipping a beat. "Train trouble? This isn't a good time for breakdowns before we start."

"No sleeping car," Jim growled, his blue eyes glaring.

"Oh," Artie said, straightening and turning to face him. "Well, that isn't the end of the world. We have crushed more people in here than just a couple of intriguing women."

Jim sighed, relaxing slightly, and nodded in agreement. "I just didn't want complications with these two after that stern speech the Colonel gave us. But I went everywhere, not just this rail yard. How can there be not one sleeping car anywhere in the Washington DC area?"

"Maybe we can pick one up on the way; Denver or San Francisco at least," Artie said, trying to placate his partner. "Richmond will understand that we tried. They can have your room and we'll split my room."

Jim nodded, relaxing more, rubbing his tired eyes. "I have a bad feeling about this. I have never met women that were like them. Even women spies and agents from other countries that we have met always had men working closely with them to protect them. But these two seem to walk around all alone." He shrugged, shaking his head.

"Richmond said that he was surprised at Grant's suggestion concerning these two." Artie said, rubbing his chin absently as he thought out loud. "It makes me wonder if President Grant knew them and suggested to Richmond that they work as agents. Hopefully they tell us more tonight," he said, "or this week. Or next week," he grinned. "Its five days out to California and five days back, and then who knows how long we will be out there."

"We need a sleeping car for them," Jim growled again. "San Francisco must have one or the entire state of California." He nodded, "but you're right, Richmond mentioned Grant suggested them." He shook his head again in disbelief. "What time is it?" he glanced at the clock over the stove, "I have one hour to clear my room out. Damn…." He said, moving to his room.

Artie moved the bouillon to the back of the stove to keep warm. He placed a wide, heavy pan on to the hotter, front part of the stove top, adding grease and some pieces of steak tips and onions to fry. Checking another pot of simmering vegetables, humming as he worked, he finally stood, satisfied with the meal. He picked up a pile of plates and a handful of silverware and moved to the living room to set the table. Stemware was already in place and a bucket of ice was on the sideboard holding two bottles of champagne. Artie placed a plate in front of each chair and arranged the silverware on cloth napkins. He was just standing when he heard horses outside. He stepped to the window to look out.

"James," he called out, "we have guests." He glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle. "They are early. Must be excited to join us." He heard a bureau drawer slam shut and grumblings. He leaned over again to see the two dismount and hook the reins to the railings along the lower edge of the varnish car's undercarriage near the back steps. They each grabbed carpet bags and paper sacks and walked toward the door. Artie hurried to the door and opened it wide as the girls appeared on the landing. "Welcome to our humble abode," he announced with a sweep of his arm and bowing. "Please come in."

"Thank you," Christian said, smiling. She entered slowly, looking around. Lori followed and Artie shut the door behind them.

"Welcome," Jim said, stepping through the swinging doors and walking closer. "You're a bit early but I guess we're ready." He smiled, looking to each woman. They were dressed the same as they had been earlier but the daylight made it easier to see the details of their clothing, and their figures underneath the tight fitting outfits.

"Thank you for letting us join you," Christian said to Jim as she stepped further into the room. "Colonel Richmond suggested it to us but said he would ask your opinions first if this would work."

"We transport people all the time," Jim said, nodding to his partner. "It gives Artemus someone else to cook for besides me."

At that Lori handed a paper sack to Artie, "we wanted to donate food toward the trip. I brought a few dozen eggs and some bread." Christian handed her bag also, as Lori added, "And a couple pounds of sausages too."

"You didn't need to do all that," Artemus said, taking both of the bags, "but thank you. We can have quite a breakfast in the morning." He backed up a step, "please come in and make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be a few minutes. I'll just go put these away and check the stove." He turned and hurried into the kitchen as the girls set their bags down.

Looking around, their eyes moved from the golden furniture to the fringed curtains. "This is very fancy," Lori said, walking to the fireplace. She put her hand on the patched wall, "looks like your head landed here," she chuckled, looking at Jim.

"Yes," he smiled, "we had the train redone recently but it doesn't stay perfect for long."

"We heard about the fire," Lori said, turning to look more closely at his face. "Richmond said you were both injured and are still recovering. But you seem fine..."

"We're almost 100 percent," Jim said, touching a finger to a tender spot on his face. The black and blue marks had turned a pale yellow now, barely noticeable along his hair line. He turned to look at the kitchen, "still keeping an eye on him but he seems fine too."

"Richmond said you were both on light duty and this trip would allow you to rest," Christian added. "We will try not to be too much trouble. Where can we store our gear?"

"For now," Jim said, taking a deep breath, "my room. It's the largest room; it's where we usually put our guests. I hope to get another sleeping car on the way; there wasn't one to be had in Washington on short notice." He waved them toward the swinging doors and stepped back.

"Oh, we don't want to put you out of your room," Lori said, worried, "We can sleep out here on the couches." She picked up her bag hesitantly.

"No, no," Jim said, "I insistent. It won't be for the whole trip and Artie and I will switch off with his room. He doesn't sleep much anyway and he'll be out here working at the desk and just wake you up." He stepped back as they walked past him, moving through the doors. They passed the galley door, and peeked in at Artie. He smiled and nodded, as he stirred the frying pan. "Don't interrupt the cook when he's working," Jim laughed, as they passed. "The next door is the lab," he said, as the girls peeked into the narrow work room. "The next door is my room," he said, watching as they walked in.

"Oh, this is larger than I expected," Lori said, her eyes looking from the full size bed to the bureau partially recessed into the wall. A large mirror hung over the drawers. "Very neat," she said.

"I emptied the bureau for now," Jim said, leaning against the doorframe. "It will give you some space. I am sure you'll be comfortable." He looked down at his bed and thought about how he would miss his mattress.

Artie stepped up behind him. "The couch is perfectly comfortable, James," he said, slapping a hand on his partner's shoulder. "And you'll be fine in my room as long as you don't mind a book landing on you occasionally as the train moves." He grinned as Jim rolled his eyes. "I am putting soup on, if you are hungry now? Good to eat it before we are in motion. Eating soup on a moving train is messy."

Jim snorted, "That's for sure." He tipped his head to one side, nodding toward down the hall. "The next room is the bathroom and beyond that is his room. Handy to have a room between us, cuts down on noise." The girls turned to look back at him, eyebrows raised. "I'm told I snore," he said quickly.

"Oh," Lori said, giggling. "Well thank you for the use of your room. This is very nice. We'll just wash up and meet you at the table. Oh," she added, stepping closer, her pale eyes holding his, "what about our horses? Do you have room for them in your stable car?"

"Already taken care of," Jim said, nodding, knowing Cobb and his assistant would be moving the horses inside as soon as the women arrived. He turned and walked down the hall as his bedroom door shut. Stopping at the galley door, he watched his partner carefully ladle soup into four bowls arranged on a tray. Plates of bread and butter were pilled near the bowls. "Artie," he said quietly, "there's nothing in the soup."

Artie's hand paused, the ladle stopped over the pot, "its bouillon soup, Jim. It's French."

"French for," Jim said slowly, "'I forgot to put something in the soup'?" He grinned as the dark eyes glared at him. He stepped forward to hold the door open as Artie picked up the tray and slowly walked out to the table. "Maybe they won't notice." Artie just growled as he walked past.

"Notice what?" Christian said, stepping up behind Jim in the hallway. She smelled of fresh soap and her porcelain skin glowed in the sunlight hallway.

"I hope you ladies don't mind my partner's eccentric taste," Jim said, stepping aside, holding the door for them, as Lori quickly joined them. "He cooks some odd things sometimes."

"We eat anything," Lori said, as they all sat. She peered at the bowl, stirring it with her spoon. "This smells wonderful," she said, putting the spoon gingerly to her lips. "How can this taste so good without anything in it. It's just broth."

Artie laughed, "Its bouillon, which is French for broth," he said, as Jim rolled his eyes again. The two men sat on the ends of the table as the two girls sat on the opposing sides. "There were oxtails in it and vegetables but they are strained out at an earlier step."

Lori paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth, "wait, what? There was meat and vegetables in this soup but you took them out before serving it?" She turned a skeptical eye at Jim and he just shrugged. "Why would you not leave it in?"

"Because then it would be stew, not bouillon," Artie said, "This is soup served before the main meal."

"Oh, I understand now," Christian said, "If you want soup and dinner too. Its wonderful," she purred, sipping delicately from her spoon.

"Yes," Jim added, "for cooks who can't decide what to serve. Odd how you can still cook French food with your French cookbook missing." He stood to grab a bottle from the ice bucket, twisting the cork out. He moved back to the table to fill the glasses.

"Luckily," Artie growled, waving his spoon at Jim, "I had a few recipes memorized before it vanished into thin air. I need to buy another one and keep it stored in a more secure location." Jim grinned and busied himself with his soup. "But I will gladly turn the kitchen over to these young ladies for our trip since they would probably rather do the cooking than eat my creations."

Lori and Christian looked each other over the table, eyes wide with surprise. Lori turned to Artie, "only if you really like scrambled eggs. That's about all we cook. It could make for a long trip."

It was Artie and Jim's turn to stare at each other in shock. "You don't cook?" Jim said slowly. "I thought all women cooked. I thought it came naturally."

"You thought wrong," Lori said. "We don't cook. We go out; restaurants, friend's homes."

"Well then," Artie said, clearly surprised. "I will gladly continue. Let me get the next course."

"I'll follow you with the bowls," Christian said, snatching up the empty dishes and spoons, and standing. "Just because we don't cook, doesn't mean we can't help." She hurried behind him as they left the table.

"You aren't just pulling his leg?" Jim asked Lori. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching her curiously, "You two really don't cook?"

"Oh, I can make a sandwich or cut up an apple," she smiled. "But I don't think Artemus would enjoy eating what I make."

Jim sighed, nodding, "He'll try new things but he is pretty finicky when it comes to food. He eats anything if he's hungry enough but I have seen him go days without eating."

Lori chuckled, "I can't go very long without something to eat. It's nice being in the city; there is food everywhere, you just need to know how to get it."

Jim stared at her, "you could just buy it." She winked at him as Artie walked back into the room carrying a platter heaped with steak pieces and onions. Christian followed with a bowl of vegetables.

"My dear," Artemus said, placing the platter on center of the table, "your meat is served." The plates were piled with food and handed around. "I hope you approve," he said, sitting. "We met a man a while back that said people should only eat fruits and vegetables. We tried it for a day but it seemed odd and we were starving."

"Oh, ya," Jim said, sipping at his champagne, "that was terrible. I think we went out for steaks around midnight. I don't know how that man survived."

The girls giggled, each putting a second helping on their plates, obviously eating more than the men. Jim and Artie exchanged a glance over the now empty platter and bowl. "We have done that, when needed, but nothing is better than meat," Christian said, "this is wonderful. Do you two always eat like this?"

"When we are on the train, we do," Artie said, his eyes watching the women eating the last of their meals. "Sometimes, on the trail, we just eat dirt." Jim snorted, shaking his head. "James, if you would open the next bottle, I will bring out the dessert." He returned his partner's glare, knowing Jim didn't approve of sweets, even for guests. Artie rose, taking the platter, as Christian again collected the plates. They moved into the kitchen, leaving Lori with Jim again.

"Oh, I don't know if I can eat another bite," Lori said, leaning back into her chair. She rubbed her stomach over her white cotton shirt, stealing a glance at Jim. "Would he be insulted if I didn't eat dessert?"

"Good question," Jim said, "especially since he isn't supposed to be making dessert. He must be trying to impress you two. Maybe this week, he'll just cook platters of meat."

Lori smiled, closing her eyes, "that would be great."

Jim's eyes moved down her slim frame, wondering where she put all that food. He paused at the waistband of the deep chocolate colored pants, his eyes looking for the grips of handguns or knives. Not seeing any didn't make him any more comfortable. Artie and Christian soon reentered the room with more bowls. "Did you dirty every bowl and plate in the galley tonight?"

Artie ignored him and set two serving bowls on the table, the larger one being full of small pieces of fruit, and the smaller overflowing with whipped cream. "It's a healthy dessert for you, partner." Christian handed everyone a small bowl and again food was passed around and quickly eaten.

"Wonderful meal," Lori said, leaning against the back of her chair, patting her stomach, and smiling at Artemus. "We heard rumors about your cooking and I can say it's all true."

"Thank you," Artie said, smiling. "I hope you don't believe all the rumors you heard about us." He winked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. The girls broke into fits of laughter.

Jim took a deep breath and pushed his bowl away, resting his forearms on the table. "So now that everyone is fed and happy," he said, a guarded smile on his face, "let's clear the air on what this trip entails." He waited for all the eyes to turn toward his. "Colonel Richmond didn't go into a lot of details; he said you would do that once we started," He paused, taking out his watch and glancing at it, "which will be in about five minutes. So why don't we discuss what this trip is about?"

Lori and Christian exchanged a glance, the darker haired girl taking on her usual, placid smile as the blond instantly appeared to be on guard. "We are on our way to San Francisco to arrest a man and bring him back to Washington DC," Christian said.

"And why you two?" Jim asked carefully.

"Because we know what he looks like," Christian added, the conversation quickly becoming just the two of them as Artemus and Lori watched.

"So, the best plan would be that, once we get to San Francisco," Jim said slowly now, "we can all go into the city together and you can point this man out to us, if and when we find him. Then you two can return to the train and Artemus and I will do the actual arresting." Artie nodded in agreement as Lori remained silent and unmoving.

Christian shook her head slowly, still smiling, "I think it would be best if Lori and I handled this fellow without your help." Jim opened his mouth to protest, his eyes narrowing with frustration at being disagreed with, but Christian continued. "Do you know you two have a eighty-seven percent death rate?"

"A what?" Jim said, obviously taken off guard.

"A death rate," Christian repeated, "of eighty-seven percent. That is the highest of any agent in the Service. You kill most everyone you are sent out after. We need this person captured alive and brought back to Washington DC…alive." She glanced at Artie quickly and back to Jim. "We researched your files before we came here tonight. It wasn't difficult to figure out."

"I have never figured the exact numbers but we are sent after the worst of the worst," Artie said carefully, "and they are usually yelling something clever like 'you won't take me alive' or 'you'll have to kill me first'".

"That could be," Christian agreed, looking back at Jim, who's face had turned a deep red with anger now and his jaw was clenched, "but Lori and I will be able to grab this fellow and bring him back without your help."

"Colonel Richmond," Jim growled, "asked that we do help you…"

"You are helping us," Lori added, smiling over the rim of her glass at her lips, "you're giving us a fast ride to California." She held Jim's glare, almost daring him to say something further.

Artie, disturbed by the sudden tension, quickly added, "We have five long days to travel and we have haven't even started yet so let's not try to decide now. I suggest a relaxing evening of getting better acquainted." He rose and waved a hand to the couches and chairs in the living room area of the varnish car. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stood back as the two girls moved away from the table carrying their glasses. Jim grabbed the open bottle of champagne and took a deep breath, exchanging a frustrated glance with his partner.

tbc