He got Lucy to his buggy and lifted her. Matt jumped in the back, and after making sure Lucy was settled, Nate went around the buggy and climbed up. Sitting as far away from his passenger as he could without falling over the other side, he slapped the reins and the buggy lurched forward.
Lucy immediately slid over to his side and laid her head on his shoulder. Matt gasped. “Papa?”
“It’s all right son, Miss Benson is a little tired. We’ll let her sleep.”
“I’m not tired. I want to snuggle.” Lucy slurred the words. Turning to Matt, she added, “I should be the one who’s your mama, not Angel. Did your papa ever tell you that?”
“Lucy, don’t say that to the boy,” Nate snapped.
“Why not? It’s true. If everything had gone as I planned I would be your wife, not that whore from New York.”
“Papa!”
Anger shot from his gut to his head where the blood pounded. “Lucy, if you were a man I’d beat you to within an inch of your life for that remark. I’m allowing you’re a lady, or at least you used to be, and you’ve had too much champagne. I’m warning you to hold your tongue.”
Nate kept his eyes on the road and almost jumped off the seat when Lucy’s palm settled on his thigh. She ran her hand up and down, causing Nate to break out in a cold sweat. He pulled the buggy over and stopped.
He turned to his son. “Matt, come on up here in the front with us.”
“But, Papa, I don’t want to.” His gazed darted from him to Lucy. “We’ll be squished.”
“No, it won’t be so bad, and it’s not much farther to Miss Benson’s house.”
Nate jumped down, and practically dragging Matt over the seat, plopped him next to Lucy, who had to move over. Nate climbed back up and started the buggy again. Lord, would this ride ever be over?
“I know what you’re doing.” Lucy’s voice rang out. “But it won’t work forever, you know.”
Matt looked back and forth between the two adults, his face paling.
“Lucy, why don’t you lay your head back, and take a little rest?” Nate snapped the reins to make the horses go faster.
“Papa, I think she’s already asleep.”
Nate blew out a deep breath. “Good. We’re almost there now, anyway.”
The buggy continued down the long driveway and stopped in front of the house. The door immediately opened, and a middle-aged man in a livery uniform stepped out.
Delivering drunken Lucy to her door is becoming a habit.
“I’m afraid Miss Benson is under the weather.” Nate called to the man as he left the buggy and walked around to Lucy’s side.
The older man took in Lucy’s disheveled appearance and drew in a breath. “Oh, my. Can you carry her in?”
“Sure.” Nate reached into the buggy and slid her out. Her head lolled back like a rag doll. Her hat rested askew, and she had dribbled champagne on the front of her blue silk dress. As he started forward, she began to snore.
“I’ll show you the way to her bedroom.” He started up the stairs, and then stopped. Nate banged into him, almost causing the three of them to tumble down the stairs. He shifted Lucy, amazed at how light she felt.
“I think I should get Bella first,” the man said.
Nate stood juggling Lucy while her maid was summoned. A small, black-haired woman came running from the back of the house and raced up the stairs.
“Oh, dear,” her voice sounded breathless. “Bring her this way, sir.”
They all started back up the stairs. Bella led him to Lucy’s room, opened the door and stood aside so he could enter. He deposited his bundle on the bed, and immediately turned to the young servant.
“I’ll be leaving now, miss. I’m sure she’s in good hands.” He backed out of the room, closed the door and hurried down the stairs. Matt stood in front of the buggy.
“Let’s go.” Nate jumped into the buggy. Matt climbed up the other side, and Nate set off as if the devil himself raced after them.
“What’s wrong with Miss Benson?” Matt peered at him as they left the driveway and entered the main street back to town.
“She’s had too much champagne.”
“That’s not good, is it?” The boy looked at him wide-eyed, with all the solemnity of a wise ten-year-old.
“No, son.” He looked down at the little boy. “That’s not good.”
“How come she said she should be my mama?”
Nate shrugged. “For some reason, she thought I would marry her after your mama died.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t love her for one thing, and I didn’t think she would be a good mama for you and the others.”
“But you didn’t love Angel when she first came, did you?”
Nate glanced at the boy. “Well, I had a liking for her.”
“But you love her now, don’t you?”
He grinned as the image of Angel hugging all his children on Christmas morning, tears in her eyes, came to mind. “Yes, I do, son, very much.”
“So do I.”
Two days after the wedding, Angel sat at the kitchen table, considering various ideas for supper as she finished up the hem on a pair of Matt’s pants. The boy grew so fast, this would be the last time she could let the hem down. Time to pass them on to Mark. After folding the pants neatly, and placing it on the table, she walked quietly to the bottom of the stairs to listen for Julia-Rose who napped, but only silence greeted her.
The boys would be home in a little while, so she set fresh-from-the oven oatmeal cookies on a plate. She admired the effort. Her baking skills were improving. Within minutes four boys came charging into the kitchen from the back door.
“Hi, Mama.” Luke reached for a cookie.
“Hi, yourself.” She turned and gave him a hug.
Not to be outdone, John also reached for one, and shoved it into his mouth.
“Sit down and eat your cookies like little gentlemen. I’m going upstairs to get your sister.”
Julia-Rose stood in her crib, blonde curls framing her face, blue eyes shining. She smiled brightly, and held out her hands. “Mama, up now.”
“So, we’re expanding our vocabulary, are we?” Angel picked her up and quickly changed her soaking diaper, throwing the dirty one in a bucket of water.
The boys had gobbled up the cookies by the time she returned with Julia-Rose. She set her in a chair, no longer using the strap since she sat up much better. Angel thought about asking Nate to build a high chair. She’d seen a picture of one in a catalog. When the new baby got old enough to sit up, a high chair would be much safer than having to deal with pillows and straps.
How to tell Nate about the new baby still worried her. They had never discussed more children, and she honestly didn’t know if he would be happy or not. Knowing him as she now did, she opted for a happy reaction. Still, six children . . . Given how long they’d been married, at least she wasn’t as fertile as Amy.
“Time for chores, boys.” She placed dirty glasses in the sink. Mark immediately ran out the back door, much to Angel’s surprise. He usually dawdled, the last one when it came to chores. Before the others moved, a knock sounded at the front door.
“Watch the baby.” She tossed the comment over her shoulder as she hurried to open the door.
Lucy Benson stood on the doorstep. Her eyes were bloodshot, her green linen dress a wrinkled mess, as if she had slept in it. She wore no hat or gloves, but carried a reticule. She attempted to smile, but it came out more as a grimace.
“May I come in, Angel?” She swayed slightly.
“Yes, of course.” Angel stepped back.
A small kernel of fear settled in her stomach. Lucy had been her nemesis for a long time, but at the moment, this woman looked dangerous. An
gel quickly glanced at the clock, but it would be another hour or so before Nate would be home.
Lucy stumbled into the house, her steps none too steady. Her gaze roamed the parlor, she sneered. “This junk will have to go.” She turned and smiled at Angel. “But then, the whole damned house will go.” She laughed, and entered the kitchen.
“What can I do for you, Lucy?” Angel said. The remarks she’d uttered increased the size of the kernel of fear. She edged toward Matt, planning to have him go for Nate.
“You can go away and never come back. That’s what you can do for me, Angel Hardwick Hale.”
Julia-Rose let out a wail and reached for Angel. She headed toward her little girl.
Lucy glared at her. “Stay where you are.”
Angel ran her sweaty palms down the front of her skirt. “Boys, go on out and start your chores. Matt, take Julia-Rose with you, she could use a bit of air.” Her eyes never leaving Lucy, she snatched the baby up.
“No. Everybody stay here.”
Fear shot through Angel’s body. This was not good. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “Lucy, why don’t you sit down? I’ll make a pot of tea and we can talk.”
“No.” The one word came out at the same time Lucy reached into the reticule dangling from her wrist and pulled out a gun. She held it with two hands, and aimed it directly at Angel’s chest.
Luke, John and Matt sat like three stone statutes, wide-eyed at the gun pointed at their mama. Too young to understand, but picking up the tension in the room, Julia-Rose cried harder. Angel quickly deposited her into Matt’s lap. She didn’t want to be holding the baby with a gun pointed her way.
“Shut that brat up.” Lucy gestured with the gun in Julia-Rose’s direction. The child sobbed harder, her face a bright red.
“I think you should put the gun down, Lucy,” Angel said quietly.
“I don’t think so.” Lucy waved it around.
Angel sucked in air, petrified with a drunken Lucy handling a gun with the children in the kitchen.
“Can the boys go outside and start on their chores?”
“Oh, always the perfect mama, aren’t you? No, everyone stays right here.”
Julia-Rose continued to scream. Lucy swung around to face the baby.
Angel jerked in the direction of the table and shouted, “No!”
Lucy looked at her with distain. “Don’t worry, Mama, I won’t hurt her. Nate wouldn’t like that.”
Everyone stood still as Julia-Rose continued to scream, “Mama, up now, please.”
“It’s okay, baby. Mama’s right here.” She reached out in the direction of the little girl.
“I said don’t move!” Lucy screamed so loud, the boys jumped. Luke and John clutched each other’s hands and cried.
Angel’s eyes shifted to see Mark at the back door. Lucy’s back faced him.
“Lucy, I really think you should put the gun down.” Angel spoke loudly, praying Mark would hear her. She watched through the glass as his eyes grew wide. Slowly he backed up, and ran down the stairs.
“I’ve tried every way I could, to get Nate to realize you’re not good enough for him. I guess the only way to be rid of you is the same way I got rid of that milquetoast he was married to before.” Lucy aimed the gun at Angel again.
A jolt hit Angel’s gut, and all the moisture left her mouth.
Lucy had killed Amy?
Tears flooded her eyes, but all she could think of right now was getting the children out of the house and away from this crazy woman.
“Please, Lucy.” Her voice trembled. “Let the children go in the backyard.”
“No. I don’t want anyone running off ‘til I say so. I’m giving the orders here, not you, Mrs. Hale.” Then with a high-pitched, hysterical laugh, she sat down abruptly, still pointing the gun at her. “Not for long will you be Mrs. Hale, though. You won’t be Mrs. anyone.”
Angel inched further away from the table, where the children still sat.
“Don’t move, I told you,” Lucy growled. “I hate you, Angel. And I hate your stupid stepmother.” She jumped up and walked around the kitchen like a caged animal. “You ruined my life!” she screamed. “Everything was fine until you came along. Nate should have married me. He was supposed to wait for me to come back from Europe. But no, he sent for a mail order bride. A mail order bride. My God!”
She dropped her head back, staring at the ceiling, then slowly lowered her head and looked directly at Angel again, aiming the gun at her chest.
Angel could feel the sweat trickling down between her breasts and back. She licked her dry lips and edged toward the corner of the room, as far away from the table as she could get.
“And then, if things weren’t bad enough, your whore of a stepmother, Mrs. Sylvia Hardwick, comes along and steals my papa!” Lucy’s face glowed beet red with anger.
“Lucy,” Angel said softly, “I know you’re upset about Nate, but this is not the way to settle things. Why don’t you hand me the gun and we’ll let the children leave?”
“That’s you, isn’t it? Miss Perfect. So wonderful. Everyone loves Angel. Always thinking about the brats first. When Nate and I are married, they’ll all be in boarding school.” She waved the gun in the direction of the children.
“No!” Angel screamed, starting toward the table.
“Get back,” Lucy said quietly, which scared Angel more. “Maybe I should shoot you all. Then I’ll have Nate to myself. No stupid wife, no brats always crying.” She turned her attention to Matt. “I told you to shut that little monster up!”
Angel’s attention shifted to the slight movement behind Lucy, as Nate quietly entered the kitchen. His face flushed, and taking deep gulps of air, he viewed the scene in stony silence.
Chapter 22
Nate hesitated as he considered his next move. Lucy had a gun pointed at Angel, and four of his five children sat at the table, the baby screaming and reaching for Angel, the boys with tears rolling down their faces.
Lucy wasn’t near the table where the children sat, but the way her body swayed left no doubt about her inebriation. That, plus a loaded gun, created a very dangerous situation.
He could rush her, but the gun might go off, hitting one or more of his family. There were too many people in the room.
“Is that you, Nate?” Lucy said without taking her eyes off Angel.
“Yes, it is. Can I ask you a favor?”
“What?”
“Let the children go out the back door.”
“You always cared about them more than me.” She turned and pointed the gun at his stomach. Angel gasped and her hand flew to cover her mouth.
Nate looked at the weaving girl. “Lucy, this is between you and me. Please let my wife and children leave the house.”
“No! Not her. I want her right here.” Lucy swung back to Angel.
Nate felt the blood leave his face. “How about letting the children leave?”
“Fine.” She turned to the boys sitting at the table. “Go. And shut that baby up.”
Matt looked up at his father, who nodded. “Go on son, take your brothers and sister out to the back yard.”
The boys scrambled out the back door, Luke and John clinging to each other, and Julia-Rose still screaming.
“Lucy, what do you hope to accomplish?” Nate slowly proceeded to where Angel stood.
“Get away from her.” She waved the gun toward the corner of the room. “It could have been so good for us. I took care of getting rid of Amy for you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Nate jolted at her words, and what they meant.
She continued in a singsong voice. “We could have married, and with my papa’s money, we could have traveled, gone to parties, museums, plays.” Her expression turned nasty
as she continued. “But no. You couldn’t wait for me to come back from Europe, could you?”
Nate continued to move toward Angel, all the time watching the gun in Lucy’s hand.
“No, Lucy, we couldn’t have done all that. I have five children.”
Angel immediately laid her hand on her stomach.
Lucy waved her other hand around. “Nannies, Nate. We could have hired a nanny, sent them to boarding school. You would have been free.”
“There’s just one problem with your plan.” Nate finally worked his way over to Angel. “I don’t want to be free. I love my children, and wouldn’t want nannies to raise them.”
“No?” She screamed. “But instead, you marry a thief. A woman so desperate for a husband she has to travel all the way across the country and marry a stranger? And that’s not bad enough. Then she brings her witch of a stepmother here to take my papa away from me, too? Don’t you understand? I have no one. No one, and it’s all her fault.”
“Lucy.” Nate reached his hand out. “Calm down. No one has taken your father away. Sylvia is concerned about you.”
She uttered a curse word. The tension had increased, and he hoped Mark had reached the sheriff’s office. He’d sent the boy there as he headed for home. Unsure how long he could keep Lucy talking, time could be running out.
“Do you know how long I had to give arsenic to Amy before she finally died?”
“My God,” he whispered, his suspicions confirmed. “You gave Amy poison?”
“Yes. That’s why I came to help after the baby’s birth. I made sure she had little bit every day, until she finally died. She was a pathetic woman, never good enough for you, either. I had planned to allow you enough time to mourn, but before I even returned from Europe, you had already replaced her.” Pointing the gun again at Angel, she snarled, “With that.”
Nate crept in front of Angel, facing Lucy.
“Hand me the gun, Lucy. You don’t really want to hurt anyone.”
An Angel in the Mail Page 26