Christmas Mail Order Angels: The complete 11 Volume Set

by Darlene Franklin

  Edwin gazed for a moment at the odd rock formation that vaguely resembled an angel.

  “Guess you got your angel,” Bronc said with a grin.

  “So, Ed,” Jim Barrett said with a grin, “tomorrow’s the big day.”

  “Sure enough,” Edwin replied, feeling his face heat. In all his years at the Bar L, he hadn’t courted a woman. It seemed odd to have the men joshing him about Isabella.

  “Guess we’ll have to call you boss from now on,” said Roddy Hayes, one of the younger men from Leman’s ranch.

  “And she’ll be Mrs. Boss,” Bronc added.

  Roddy guffawed.

  “Cut it out,” Edwin said. “She’ll be Mrs. Gray to you two yahoos.”

  “Are we all invited to the weddin’?” Bronc asked.

  Edwin hadn’t thought about that. “I s’pose. If you go to the preaching service first.”

  “What, Miz Johnston wouldn’t like a bunch of heathens at the ceremony?” Roddy asked with a laugh.

  “Maybe.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt us to hear a sermon,” Jim said, edging his roan closer to Edwin’s buckskin. “I haven’t heard any preaching since I crossed the Mississippi.”

  “Well, then you prob’ly need to go,” Bronc said with a grin.

  Edwin nodded at Jim. “I’d be proud to have you there.”

  “All right, I think everybody’s here,” Mr. Leman called. “Let’s split up into groups of two or three. We’ll cover more ground that way. If you hear a gunshot, ride toward it with caution. And remember, men—make sure of your target before you let loose. We’ve got a dozen of us out here, and we don’t want any accidents. Jim, you’d best stick with me.”

  “Sure, Uncle Alfred.” Jim walked his horse toward Mr. Leman’s.

  The men quickly formed pairs, and Edwin arched his eyebrows at Bronc, who was generally steady and known as a good shot.

  “Sure,” Bronc said.

  “If you don’t find anything, meet back here at noon,” Mr. Leman said.

  When Mr. Jenkins assigned them an area, Edwin and Bronc wheeled their horses and headed up one of the steeper trails toward the high county.

  Beautiful land, Edwin thought, gazing out across the foothills and the plains below. Sometime he would bring Isabella up here for a ride and show her these vistas. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before, he was sure.

  “Look.”

  Bronc’s voice jerked him back to the purpose of their hunt. He looked where the cowboy pointed. The bole of a pine tree a couple of yards off the trail had been clawed until the bark shredded.

  “That’s his scratching post,” Edwin said.

  Bronc nodded. “He’s a big ’un. Those marks are at least eight feet off the ground.”

  “Yeah.” Edwin’s mouth felt dry. He didn’t want to come face to face with a grizzly that big. He opened his canteen and took a swig of the tepid water inside. “Looks pretty fresh.”

  Bronc rode closer to the tree. “It does. I’m thinking we need to leave the trail.”

  “The horses aren’t upset,” Edwin said, stroking his buckskin’s neck. “That grizzly can’t be too close.”

  They spent the next hour riding back and forth over the rough ground in the area, searching for tracks or any other sign of the grizzly, but without turning up anything new. Finally they pushed on up the trail, riding to the highest point on the Bar L. They sat in the saddle for a few minutes, looking out over the mountains and valley below. They could see some of the mines on the hillsides. Ranches dotted the grassland. Far off to their left, smoke rose from several chimneys in Angel Vale.

  “Prettiest place on earth,” Bronc said.

  Edwin had to agree, though he had not been to all that many places. He squinted at the sun high overhead. “We’d best head back.”

  Bronc nodded. “Lead the way, boss.”

  “Cut it out,” Edwin said.

  Bronc just smiled.

  ###

  Several of the brides who had married, having heard of Isabella’s impending wedding, turned up at the boardinghouse Saturday just before noon. Henrietta, Sophia, and Becky, who were still single, had invited them.

  “What’s this?” Isabella asked when Sophia invited her to come down to the common room.

  “We thought you needed at little send-off,” Becky replied with a grin. “Henrietta’s baked a cake, and Nelle brought fudge. We’ve got plenty of sandwiches, coffee, and tea, too.”

  “I can’t believe you did all this,” Isabella said, almost overwhelmed at this show of affection. “I’ll miss you all when I’m out at the ranch.”

  “Well, you’re just going to have to come visit us often,” Becky replied.

  Isabella greeted her friends, and they sat down to eat the sandwiches. When they were finished, Henrietta began to serve out generous slices of Lady Baltimore cake.

  Sophia pushed a colorful item toward her. “Here’s a little something for you.”

  Isabella unfolded it and found two knitted dishcloths, one blue and one red.

  “Thank you so much,” Isabella said.

  “I know none of us brought many household goods with us,” Sophia told her.

  “That’s true, and these will come in very handy.”

  The others presented small gifts, and Isabella wound up with quite an array before her: a jar of mincemeat, half a pound of tea, a handkerchief with a tatted border, a length of rose-colored grosgrain ribbon, and several sheets of stationery and two envelopes.

  Isabella’s eyes were filled with tears as she looked around at her friends. “You darlings. We’ve come so far together. Thank you for these remembrances. I’ll cherish them all.”

  Becky rose and began to serve the beverages. The ladies lingered another hour, happy to be together again and have the chance to catch up on each other’s activities. As they began to leave, all expressed their best wishes for her. Isabella felt more than ever before that this venture would work out.

  Thank you, Lord, she prayed silently. Thank you for this place and for these friends. Thank you for Edwin, and for giving me the courage to start out.

  ###

  On Sunday morning, many of Angel Vale’s residents who lived in town gathered at the mercantile for the circuit rider’s sermon. Their numbers were swelled by ranchers and their families driving in from the surrounding valley.

  Isabella donned her best dress. She waited on the boardwalk outside the mercantile for Edwin. Everyone who entered greeted her and wished her wished her well, until her face ached from smiling. As even the loiterers went inside, she clenched her hands around her Bible and told herself over and over that he was only a little late. After all, the ceremony would not be held until after the preaching. What did it matter if Edwin was tardy for church?

  From inside the store, strains of “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” wafted out to her. One of the merchants had brought his violin and played the melody, while the congregation sang. Most of them were on key, though a few sour notes reached Isabella’s ears.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she swiped at them angrily. Why did he have to be late today? She drew in a deep breath. It wouldn’t be a disaster to attend the preaching service alone, though she knew everyone in town would comment on it later. She took out her handkerchief, wiped her eyes, and straightened her spine. After a last, futile look down the street toward the road that led out to the Bar L, she turned and slipped inside the mercantile.

  She found a seat near the back. One of the miners rose from his seat on an upturned keg and nodded toward it. Isabella gave him a grateful smile and sank down onto the perch. The reverend called for another hymn, and the fiddler began to play “I Love to Tell the Story.”

  Isabella kept her gaze down and mouthed the words to the hymns. Her stomach churned. At least she was seated at the back wall, where no one could see her unless they craned their necks. Hardly anyone did until the Reverend Mr. Reed announced that the wedding of Edwin Gray and Isabella Johnston would take place after
the service. Then nearly everyone wriggled around to stare at her. She knew her face went scarlet, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

  The minister launched into his sermon, and Isabella sat quietly, clutching her Bible. She couldn’t concentrate, and she missed the scripture reference. When she glanced up, Rev. Reed was looking at her, a troubled expression on his face. She looked down quickly and flipped the Bible open. She hoped she looked studious as she stared down at it, but the words blurred when tears misted her eyes.

  Where was he?

  Somehow, she survived the most excruciating hour of her life. Ten minutes into the sermon the door opened quietly, and she jerked her face toward it, hoping against reason. Henrietta Myrick entered on tiptoe. Someone in the last row of benches on the other side squeezed over and made room for her. Isabella lowered her gaze once more to her Bible.

  At last the service was over. She rose during the reverend’s benediction and eased through the crush to the door. She was the first one out when Mr. Reed said, “Amen.” She paused only a second on the boardwalk, searching up and down the street for Edwin’s horse. What she wouldn’t give to see the cowboy limping across the dusty street just now.

  But there was no sign of him, and her heart sank even further. The tears spilled over, and she let them flow unheeded down her cheeks. Lifting her skirts, she stepped down off the boardwalk and ran for the boardinghouse. She thought she heard Becky call her name, but she didn’t slow down.

  In her room, she let the sobs come, but even in her grief, she was able to stifle them when she heard the door open downstairs. Perhaps he had come at last. She sat up and took a deep breath. She must wash her face and comb her hair.

  A soft knock sounded at her door.

  “Come in.”

  Becky stood in the doorway, a regretful smile hovering on her lips. “I’m sorry, Isabella. Is there anything I can do?”

  Isabella sniffed. “I doubt it.” A new wave of sorrow swept over her, and she couldn’t control it. She buried her face in her hands, with the ineffective handkerchief twisted between her fingers.

  “My dear, I’m sure he meant to be there.” Becky came in and sat down on the edge of the bed beside her.

  Isabella raised her head. “Do you? Because he’s been late before.”

  Becky set her mouth in a firm line. “But he cares for you, and he’s been looking forward to this day. He must have been detained at the ranch.”

  The fear that had niggled at Isabella’s heart overcame her frustration and anger. Becky was right. Edwin loved her. And his boss knew about the wedding—all of the men he worked with did. If Edwin could be here, he would be. A deep sob racked her body.

  “Oh, Becky, it’s just like when Henry died.”

  “No, no! I didn’t mean—” She stopped, a stricken look on her face.

  Isabella sat still and considered. Was that it? Did this go beyond frustration with a man who was late?

  Becky put an arm around her shoulder. “I see three possibilities.”

  Isabella eyed her cautiously. “And?”

  “First, he could have stayed away because he wanted to. I don’t believe that.”

  Isabella’s lower lip trembled, and she bit it firmly.

  “Second,” Becky said, “he wanted to be here and was delayed at the ranch. Third …”

  Isabella met her gaze. “Third, it is like Henry. Something horrible has happened to him.”

  “Surely not, but given your past experience, I can’t say it’s impossible.”

  Isabella jumped up and grabbed her coat. “I’m going out there.”

  “Where?” Becky asked, standing. “To the ranch?”

  “Yes. Edwin was supposed to meet me in front of the mercantile an hour and a half ago. We’re supposed to be standing before the minister at this very moment. And his friend, Bronc, was supposed to be with him, at least. Everyone at the Bar L knew about the wedding, and I thought some of them would attend.”

  “Yes, it is odd that none of them is here,” Becky agreed.

  Isabella’s alarm increased. Had something catastrophic happened at the ranch? A fire, perhaps?

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “How will you get out there?” Becky asked.

  “I’ll rent a horse from Travis at the livery.”

  “Will he be open on the Sabbath?”

  “People out here don’t seem to mind doing business on Sunday, so long as they are paid.” Isabella pulled on her hat and snatched her gloves and coin purse from the top of her chest.

  “Don’t go alone,” Becky cried. “I’ll ask Jake—”

  Isabella ignored her and ran into the hall and down the stairs. Over her shoulder, she flung parting words. “I can’t wait, Becky!”

  She felt an urgency as she strode down the street to the liver stable. Travis Lawson seemed to catch it when he hurried in and told him she needed a horse at once. They didn’t discuss sidesaddles. He threw a stock saddle on perky bay gelding and slid the headstall of a plain leather bridle over its ears. He handed the reins to Isabella.

  “You can pay me when you get back.”

  “Thanks.” She swung up, heedless of how much petticoat she showed him, and turned the bay toward the road. She dug her heels in and hung on.

  Chapter Seven

  Edwin was riding too close to the edge of the high, rough trail. He knew that, but he thought that between the pinto’s surefootedness and his own experience, they’d be all right. He was following tracks that told him the half dozen cattle he wanted had wandered up here. Why they had busted a gap in the north range fence was an open question. He would address that later. At the moment, he was only concerned with getting those critters back where they belonged. Two hours before sundown. If he found them soon, he could make it.

  The knowledge that the bear was out here too niggled at the back of his mind. That was why he hadn’t gone back for reinforcements—he needed to find those cattle before the bear did. If the grizzly was still out here. Maybe it had moved on. They’d found no trace of it that morning.

  As he mused on this likelihood, he studied the trail immediately before the pinto. Nobody rode up here often, but the path crested a ridge and then eased down into the next valley. Odd that the steers had come this far. He supposed they had been spooked by something—he wouldn’t say it was the bear—and tore through the fence and up here into the high country. If they ran most of the way in fear, they might just keep going once they’d calmed down, looking for a place to graze.

  Without warning, his horse bunched up and screamed. That was the only way he could think of it—a high-pitched squeal of terror. With the scream, the pinto scrambled with his hind hooves and did a quick back-up. Edwin wasn’t prepared. He tensed and tightened his grip on the saddle with his thighs.

  “Easy, boy.”

  Even as he said it, he heard the bear’s roar and the sound of crashing through the scrub trees.

  The horse pivoted on its hind feet, but one slipped over the edge of the trail. Edwin thought they were both goners. It seemed inevitable that they would both go over the rim. His only thought as he flew out of the saddle was whether the horse would land on him or not, down below.

  He landed faster than he’d expected, with a thud on the rocky edge. Dazed, he raised his head a few inches. To his surprise, he saw the pinto bolting down the rough path, its reins trailing. The horse would be lucky if he made it to safety without tripping, and Edwin would be lucky if he could get up and drag himself home by dark.

  A crackle behind him made him freeze.

  The bear.

  Lord, I’m going to die!

  It wasn’t a prayer exactly, but he didn’t have time to think. He looked toward the sound and saw it, stretched upright on its hind feet, its teeth catching the sun and its claws like gnarled daggers.

  The bear plunked down on all fours, and Edwin could almost reach out and touch it. Playing dead was not an option. With a surge of adrenaline, he heaved himself upward. His achey leg
screamed worse than usual, and the left side of his face felt hot.

  The grizzly surged through the last bit of brush beside the trail and lunged toward him with a deep growl. Edwin’s instincts told him to run, but with his game leg, he couldn’t.

  The thought had barely formed when it hit him, swiping him across the chest with its huge, bayoneted paw. The impact sent Edwin back and to the side. His feet came down on solid rock. Normally, he would have sat down hard or sprawled on the ground, but his hind parts met with air, and he fell, his arms flailing, determined not to strike headfirst when he landed.

  And now, here he was. Edwin opened one eye. Even that tiny movement hurt, but he couldn’t lie there forever, hoping the pain would go away.

  He lay on his left side, facing a rough, creased vertical wall of granite. He tried to look up to its top, but he was too close to it to see more than a few yards. How far had he fallen?

  Cautiously, he turned his head. He wasn’t at the bottom. He had fetched up on a ledge partway down the stone face, and the valley spread out below him.

  He was cold, though the sun beat down on him. He frowned at the sun. It was high in the sky, but that wasn’t right. He’d come out here in the afternoon. They’d hunted the bear all morning and gone back to the ranch for their midday meal. Then they’d discovered the ravaged fence, and as the new foreman he’d made the decision to look for the strays himself while Jim and the four ranch hands worked on closing the gap.

  How long ago was that?

  He lay there, stupidly gazing at the sky. His mouth was dry. His leg hurt, and so did his left arm. Even breathing hurt.

  He closed his eyes, thinking about that. After a minute, he opened them. The sun hadn’t changed position. Could he possibly have been out here, lying senseless on the ledge, all night?

  He attempted to shift his position, and pain stabbed his side. He tried to form a prayer, but his head ached too fiercely. Isabella. Darkness rolled over him.

  ###

  Isabella galloped the rented horse into the barnyard at the Bar L. Several men stood near the corral gate in conference. She headed the horse toward them and hauled back on the reins just in time to keep the sorrel mare from plowing into the fence.