by Bobbi Smith
“Only because I caught you before you could. Don’t you realize the trouble you can get yourself into by stealing?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Of course you can,” she said with no small amount of sarcasm. “You’ll be safe and happy living a life of crime. If you’re stealing out of ladies’ purses for a living now, what are you going to be doing in five or ten years?”
“That ain’t none of your damned business!”
“You have a nasty mouth for one so young,” she pointed out, unruffled by his use of profanity.
“My mouth ain’t none of your concern! If you hadn’t gone and yanked me off the street, you wouldn’t have to be worrying about it now, would ya?” he snarled angrily.
“If I may point out, I didn’t ‘yank you off the street.’ You decided to come with me, remember? The choice was yours.” Tenderness tugged at her heart. Angel had spent enough time with Christopher to know all about little boys and their bravado, and she decided to call his bluff then and there. She didn’t want to fight with him. She wanted to help him.
Caught up short by her logic, he turned even more defensive. “Why are you buttin’ your nose into my affairs, anyhow? What’s it to you what I say or do?”
“Would you like something to eat?” Angel deliberately changed the topic.
Lucky blinked in confusion, then looked cynical. “What’s the catch? What d’ya want?” He knew that nobody gave anything away without expecting something in return.
“I want to make a deal with you.”
“Oh, yeah?” He didn’t trust her one little bit.
“Yes. You tell me your name and I’ll get you some food.”
Lucky eyed her cautiously, trying to understand exactly what she was after. Any other woman would have been raising Cain by now over his trying to steal from her; yet this one was acting just as calm as you please, offering to get him food in exchange for his telling her his name. She’d been looking at him kind of funny, and nothing she was doing made much sense, but he was real hungry.
“My name’s Lucky,” he replied slowly.
“Lucky? That’s an unusual name. Is that your birth name?”
“Lucas is my given name, but the other boys on the street have been callin’ me Lucky ever since the time I managed to get away from the sheriff and his boys.” His chin lifted again and the defiance returned to his brown-eyed gaze.
“Interesting,” Angel murmured, thinking of what a harrowing experience that had to have been for the boy. “Now, what’s your last name?”
“I don’t have no last name.”
“We both know you do, Lucky. How can I take you home to your parents if I don’t know what your real name is?”
“Who asked you to take me home?” He balked almost in a panic. If she told anybody who he was, he was as good as back in the orphanage, and he couldn’t let that happen again.
“Don’t you want to go home?” She was surprised by the vehemence of his protest.
“I don’t want nothin’ from you!”
“Not even a hot meal?” she asked. “You need a bath, too, and you could certainly use some new clothes as well.”
“Right, lady. I’ll just eat my stomach full, take a nice bath, and then run on down to the store and buy some new clothes,” he sneered. “Course that’ll be right after I get some money out of the bank.”
“I can get you all three,” Angel told him calmly.
“Why would ya want to?”
“I told you before, I want to make a deal with you.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Am I?” She challenged. “Why don’t you try me and see? What have you got to lose? Unless, of course, you’re afraid . . .”
Lucky had far too much pride to let her think he was scared, even though he was. “What do you really want?”
“I want the truth from you. I want to know where your parents are.”
“I ain’t got no parents. They died three years ago from cholera,” he confessed flatly.
“I see. I’m sorry.” The news didn’t surprise her. “Then you’re living with relatives?”
“No, I ain’t got nobody else. Some preacher put me in an orphanage, but I got out of there as fast as I could,” he explained, trying not to let his feelings show. He’d buried the pain of his loss deep inside, and he wanted to keep it there. He wasn’t about to let this lady or anyone else know the hopelessness and fear he’d lived with since that day when, at six, he’d been abandoned in the cold, cruel world. His innocence had been torn from him then, and he now knew more about the ugliness of the world than many adults.
“You got out of the orphanage?”
“I ran away.” He suppressed the feeling of desperation that surged forth at the memory of his escape from the mean-spirited women who’d run the children’s home.
“Was it that bad?” Angel asked gently. She’d seen a darkening in his expression and wondered what terrible things had happened to him there.
“It wasn’t pretty. At least on the streets, there ain’t nobody beatin’ on me all the time. I’m my own man. I can do whatever I want, and there ain’t nobody to tell me different.” Lucky was filled with a sense of self-satisfaction that went far beyond his years. No one had cared about him when he’d first arrived at the children’s home. He’d been lost and forlorn; and when he’d dared cry over his dead parents, he’d been beaten and starved. When he’d decided to run away, no one had helped him. He’d made it by himself.
“So, you’re your own man, are you?” Angel was more perceptive than he gave her credit for. She realized that life in the orphanage must have been hell for him and that he’d run away just to stay alive. She admired his courage and spunk and understood why he didn’t want to tell her his real name. He probably thought she would turn him in.
“That’s right.”
“Well, I have an idea you just might find interesting. I’d like to offer you a job.”
“Yeah?” The boy gave her a measuring look, not trusting her.
“I’d like to hire you to accompany me to California.”
Lucky stared at her, dumbfounded. “You serious? You want me to go with you to California? Why?”
“Suffice it to say that I have to make the trip and having you along will just make it all the more memorable.” The fear that she might be placing him in harm’s way haunted her, but she dismissed it. Even if Michael did find them, he wouldn’t harm Lucky. Christopher was the boy he was after. Lucky would be safe with her, far safer than if he stayed here and lived on the streets.
“But why are you askin’ me to go after I tried to rob you?”
“You’re perfect for what I need, and I think you’re intelligent enough to handle it.”
“What do you ‘need’ and what do I have ‘to handle’?” he asked warily. It sounded too good to be true.
“I’ll tell you all that if and when you agree to go.”
“And if I don’t, you’ll turn me over to the sheriff, right?” He wasn’t completely naive and gullible.
Angel remained silent, letting him believe that she would, even though she never would have had the heart.
“All right. I’ll go.” There was no need to think about it.
“I knew you were smart.”
“You said this was a job. How much are you gonna pay me?”
Angel had to fight to keep from smiling at his brashness, but she knew he wouldn’t be alive today if he were the quiet sort.
“I’ll pay you $500 when we reach San Francisco—providing you do exactly what I say until we get there. Does that sound fair to you?”
Lucky had never known that much money existed, and his eyes widened in appreciation of the amount. “What exactly is it do you want me to do?”
“I need for you to pretend to be my brother. What we will tell people is that I was to be married in the fall to my fiancé who lives in San Francisco, but because our parents met an untimely demise back in Pittsburgh, we’re going west ea
rly. My fiancé is expecting us, and he and I will be married as soon as we arrive.”
“Is that all true? Are your folks dead, too?”
“Yes, both my parents are dead.” They looked at each other in mutual understanding of the sorrow they had each faced and conquered in their own ways.
“What about the rest of it? Are you really gettin’ married when we get there?”
“Yes, and that’s why I’m in such a hurry. I miss Christopher desperately, and I can’t wait to see him again.” She managed to get by with only a partial lie and wondered if that improved things with God.
“I still don’t understand why you need me with you,” Lucky said thoughtfully, “but it doesn’t matter as long as you pay me.”
“That’s right.” Angel nodded. The boy only needed to know what he had to do.
“I’m gonna be real good at this, Sis,” he told her with a wide, cocky grin. The fear that had gripped him earlier had eased. He still thought this Angela Roberts was crazy, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would take her money and enjoy the trip. California. It sounded good to him. “I’m gonna fool everybody. I’m gonna be the best little brother you ever had.”
“I’m sure you will be, but I find ‘Sis’ a trifle obnoxious. People who know me call me Angel.”
“Angel?” Gazing up at her, he suddenly realized that the name fit her. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—outside of his mother, of course.
“Yes. Now, Lucky, there is one other thing . . .”
“What?” he asked guardedly.
“You really do need a bath.”
“No! I ain’t takin’ no damned bath!”
“Lucky, I’m only going to say this once. If you use that kind of language in my company again, I will personally wash your mouth out with the strongest soap I can find. Do I make myself clear?”
The determined look in her green eyes and the unyielding tone of her voice convinced him that she meant business. He knew he would have to clean up his mouth before she so kindly obliged and did it for him. “Yeah,” he admitted grudgingly.
“Fine. We’re coming to understand each other. Now, if you’re going to pass for a relative of mine, you must look the part. You have another choice here. You can bathe yourself, and I do mean bathe; or I can help you with your bath and make sure, personally, that the job is done throroughly and correctly. Which will it be?”
He shot her a black look as he muttered. “I’ll do it myself.”
“Good.” Satisfied that things were going to work out between them, she gathered up her purse and started for the door.
“Where ya goin’?”
“I have a few errands to run, and I thought you might like some privacy while you bathe.”
“How do you know I’ll still be here when you get back? How do you know I won’t steal all your stuff and run off.”
Angel stopped and looked him straight in the eye. “You could do that if you wanted to, but I’m hoping you realize the job I’m offering you is worth a lot more than the little bit of money you’d make off selling the things I have in this room.”
He returned her assessing gaze, but didn’t respond.
“I’d like to think that I can trust you. What will it be, Lucky? Will you be here when I get back?”
“Yeah.” He was still reluctant to completely believe what was happening.
Angel sensed his doubts and decided it was time to convince him of her sincerity. “Good. I’ll be back in a little while. In the meantime, I’ll be sure to have some food sent up with your bath. How’s that?”
“All right.”
“Fine. Enjoy a good soak,” she teased as she left the room.
He scowled at the thought. Then she was gone, closing the door, but not locking it behind her.
Lucky stood in the middle of the plushly appointed room, staring about in disbelief. He asked himself if he’d been dreaming, but he knew the answer just by his surroundings. As reality sank in on him, his thoughts became a riotous, joyous tumble. He really was going to California!
Lucky let out a loud whoop of excitement. He didn’t want to question his good fortune. He just wanted to enjoy it. Unmindful of his filthy condition, he threw himself upon the double bed and lay spreadeagled on its inviting softness, laughing. He hadn’t lain in a real bed since his parents died; and, after a moment of enjoying its comfort, the child in him finally came out. Sitting up, Lucky began to bounce. He was still laughing and bouncing and having quite a good time when a knock at the door a few minutes later brought him up short.
Sobering, Lucky looked around at the mess he’d made. The covers and pillows were all over the floor. For a minute, he feared it was Angel returning to tell him she’d changed her mind, and he was tense as he called out.
“Who is it?”
“We’re the maids. We’ve got the food that was ordered, and we’re here to prepare the bath.”
Lucky jumped up and hastily threw the covers back on the bed. He opened the door, then stood back as the two maids entered the room carrying clean towels and a covered tray of delicious-smelling food. They were young, not more than eighteen, and they eyed him with barely concealed, and hastily disguised, distaste. It was only a quick glance on their part, but it was enough to make Lucky self-conscious. He stared down at his bare, dirty feet and suddenly realized how he must look to these two. It embarrassed him.
“Miss Roberts has ordered an extra bed brought in, so we’ll be back with a trundle later,” one maid informed him as they set the tray of food on the nightstand and began preparing the bath. When they’d finished their duties, they left the room.
Lucky shut the door after them; and, alone once again, he eyed the tub and its steaming contents with less than affection. He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d had a real scrubbing. Since he’d left the orphanage, he’d had to make do with just washing off whenever he got the chance. Now, faced with the chance to sit in a real bathtub in clean hot water, he decided it might not be so bad after all. The tantalizing aroma of the hot food on the tray enticed him and he considered eating first, but the memory of the look the maids had given him sent him straight into the tub.
Lucky shed his filthy clothing and stepped into the bathtub and sat down. The heat of the water embraced him, and he relaxed a little as he leaned back. It had never occurred to him that it would be so nice to bathe. He was surprised when a sigh escaped him.
Vague memories of a time, long ago, when his mother had bathed him stirred in the back of Lucky’s mind, but they were so distant that it almost seemed as if that had happened to another person in another lifetime. He sat quietly for a while, enjoying the luxury, until the temperature of the water started to drop dramatically. It was then that he knew he had to start scrubbing. Dunking beneath the surface to wet his hair, Lucky washed from top to bottom as Angel had instructed him to do. Then, just to make sure he’d done a good enough job, he repeated the procedure. He told himself that he wasn’t doing it to please her. He told himself he was doing it because it was a part of their deal and because he certainly didn’t want her finding a spot he might have missed and washing him herself.
Angel left the Planter’s House and headed back toward the shopping district. She was glad Lucky had agreed to accompany her, but to make their charade believable, she was going to have to make a few changes in the boy. New clothing came first, then a haircut. Those two things would be the easiest to deal with. Once his outward appearance was polished, it was time for the hard part—teaching him manners. She was also going to have to work on his speech. The boy definitely needed help there. The way he talked now, he would never convince anyone that he came from a genteel background. She hoped he proved to be a quick study.
Angel smiled as she thought of the youngster. He had lived through rougher times than she could even imagine, and she respected him for it. She was determined to help him in any way she could and to try to make his life a little happier.
>
Angel entered a store that carried boys’ things and enlisted a clerk’s help in making her selections. It took quite a while to choose a wardrobe for her new ‘little brother,’ but when she was done, she was pleased.
“Miss Roberts, would you like us to deliver these to your room at the hotel?” the clerk asked as she paid in cash.
“Yes, thank you, but I will need to take a few things with me now.” Angel picked out an outfit Lucky could wear while they were in town, along with underthings and shoes.
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for coming in.”
The first part of her task accomplished, Angel began to think about her situation again. Now that the boy was going with her, everything changed. On the way back to the hotel, Angel made it a point to stop at the office of one of the best steamboat lines to book their passage for New Orleans. When she’d thought she was traveling alone, she’d planned to leave town quietly. Now, however, she decided to draw attention to herself, so that if Michael or his men did come looking for her, she would be remembered. Angel wanted Michael’s men to follow her. She wanted them to think that she had Christopher with her. She had to give Sarah time to get their nephew to safety.
Chapter Five
Three Days Later in New Orleans
Cyril Davis, the diminutive, balding, bespectacled clerk at the front desk of the hotel, looked up as the tall, lean, dark-haired man descended the staircase and crossed the lobby toward him.
“Good evening, Mr. Masters,” Cyril greeted him with a quick ingratiating smile. He’d heard the talk about this man, Blade Masters, for his name had been on a lot of lips since he’d arrived in town the day before. Rumor had it that he was one of the fastest gunfighters around, and though he was a half-breed—his mother had been an Indian, his father white—he had garnered much respect for his talents through the years. The story went that he’d killed his first man at age fourteen, avenging his mother’s death, and, after that, had begun hiring out his gun for a living. From the gossip Cyril had heard, Masters had put the last twenty men who’d dared to challenge him in their graves. It was said that he never backed down from a fight, and the clerk believed every word of it as he stared into Masters’ hard, silvery eyes across the width of the desk. Cyril saw no warmth or humor in the depths of his gaze, only coldness. Being big on survival, the little clerk had no intention of upsetting this particular hotel guest in any way.