by Verna Clay
Inhaling a shaky breath, Angel did something she usually avoided; she gazed into her own eyes in the mirror. Expecting to see the usual pain reflected, she was surprised at the excitement shining through them. "You're excited because you're one step closer to your bakery," she whispered to the woman in the mirror.
At exactly ten o'clock, after fastening her one large suitcase and one small one and setting them beside the door, and checking her room to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind, she descended the stairs to the parlor to wait for Luke. He was already there and standing beside the mantle with his back to her. She cleared her throat because she didn't trust her voice, and when he turned around, her breath caught. Dressed in another tailored suit, this one the color of charcoal, with a matching vest under the frock coat and a crisp white shirt in sharp contrast, he appeared older than his twenty-five years and dangerous to any woman's emotional equilibrium. His midnight hair, resting against the collar of his suit, was blacker than the deepest night, and his blue eyes glistened with heart pounding intensity. Angel felt her eyes widen and then she quickly reined in her wayward thoughts.
"Good morning, Luke."
"Top o' the morning to you, too, Angel. You look beautiful."
She lowered her lashes. "Thank you."
* * *
Luke felt like the room had suddenly lost all of its oxygen. Angel's beauty was beyond comparison and now, with her eyes downcast, he once again had a vision of silky lashes that went on forever. Taking advantage of the moment, he let his eyes travel over her. Her onyx hair, with tiny tendrils escaping from the knot hidden beneath a cute pink hat, teased cheeks of the same shade. Her dress, tightly fitted at the waist, revealed a petite, but well-rounded figure every red-blooded man would dream of holding. Of course, holding Angel was out of the question and he sighed, returning to the reality of the situation.
Angel lifted her eyes again, her face composed into its usual mask of indifference. However, he had seen her surprised look and it made him grin. "How do I clean up?"
"Excuse me?"
He laughed heartily. "I hope my appearance is suitable for a wedding," he teased.
A flustered look crossed her features which made him laugh all the more.
"I'm ready whenever you are," she said, leaving his question unanswered.
"I have a coach waiting that will take us to the church. Afterward, we'll eat lunch, return for your things, and then catch the two-thirty train to Bingham."
She honed in on one thing. "There's no need to marry in a church, the courthouse will be fine."
"Too late. I've already got a preacher and his wife lined up. They're friends of mine." He extended his arm.
After a moment's hesitation, she placed her small hand in the crook of his elbow and they left the hotel.
* * *
During the ride to the church, Angel kept her eyes averted from Luke's by watching the streets and pedestrians through the window. Occasionally, he made a comment, and she murmured an acknowledgement, but didn't really pay attention to what he was saying. Her heart was pounding so fast she feared she might have the vapors. She had never envisioned herself marrying again after the horrendous one she had been forced into at the age of sixteen to a big bully thirty years her senior. Just remembering the five miserable years she'd had to endure until his death made her feel weak.
The driver called, "Whoa!" and reined the horses to a halt in front of a lovely white church with steeple, double doors, and pretty pink flowers the same shade as Angel's dress. In her heart, Angel knew she wasn't worthy of marriage in such a holy place, and when she turned tormented eyes on Luke, he immediately grasped her hands in his.
"Angel, everything's okay. Trust me."
The coach door was suddenly swung open by the driver and Luke stepped down, reaching to lift her from the interior. When he set her on the ground, he leaned down and whispered, "Don't be afraid."
In a fog, Angel allowed herself to be led up the church steps, but balked at the front door. Luke did not force her inside. He simply waited for her to take the first step forward.
Inhaling deeply, Angel moved beyond the entrance and into the coolness of a beautiful room with mahogany pews. A wooden carving of a cross with a crucified Jesus hung behind the pulpit and Angel felt sadness for his suffering. Staring at the cross, however, gave her courage to continue forward.
From a side door, a tall gangly young man and his even taller wife exited and both said in unison, "Welcome!" They even laughed in unison and the pastor extended his hand to Luke. "We don't see you enough around here, Luke, and when you asked me to marry you, I couldn't have been happier than a pup with two tails."
Luke replied, "Angel, I'd like you to meet Pastor Robert Goodbodie and his wife Anita. When I'm in town, I often worship here."
Mrs. Goodbodie clasped Angel's hand. "Gracious goodness, when Luke said he was marryin' and asked Pastor Goodbodie to perform the ceremony, I shouted with joy and then broke into song. We just love Luke and now we love you. Gracious you're purdy on the outside, but I can see you're even purdier on the inside. I told Luke that I wished ya'll could stay and get married on Sunday 'cause that way we could have a big celebration, but he told us 'bout his pa and the need to leave right away. We sure understand wantin' to get there as soon as possible. That's what family is for."
When Mrs. Goodbodie paused for breath, Pastor Goodbodie interjected. "We're ready when you are, Luke and Angel."
Luke grinned and looked down at Angel. "I'm ready."
Angel was still processing the whirlwind of emotions swirling in her heart. The friendly pastor and his wife had taken her completely by surprise. They treated her like an old friend, something foreign in her experience. "I-I guess I'm ready," she stammered.
"Well then, ya'll just mosey on up to the front while I grab the Good Book off the podium," said the pastor.
"Yes, and I'll sing a song while we get ready," Mrs. Goodbodie said excitedly and rushed to the piano not far from the pulpit. Even before she was fully seated her fingers were pounding the keys to a wedding song and her soprano voice singing happily.
Luke led Angel to a place below the cross and in front of the pastor. When Mrs. Goodbodie finished her tune, she launched herself off the bench and rushed to stand off to the side of her husband.
Pastor Goodbodie's jovial voice turned to one of solemnity. As if the church were full, he gazed into the pews and said, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together in the sight of God to join Luke Samson and Angel St. Clair in holy matrimony."
Angel felt Luke's hand smoothing the small of her back in a reassuring gesture and she forced her breathing to slow down. You can do this. It's only for a short time and then you'll be free to begin your new life.
When the preacher asked Luke to place a ring on her finger, she was shocked at the beauty of it. She had expected a simple, inexpensive band, but this one was intricately carved and exquisite. For a second, she was sorry she didn't have a band for him and then realized how ridiculous that thought was. They were only going to be in this mockery of marriage for a short time.
Pastor Goodbodie said with a slight chuckle, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Luke, now you may kiss your bride."
Angel sucked a breath and glanced up at Luke. Her eyes widened when she saw his mouth descend toward hers. The kiss was brief, light, and shocking for Angel. The kisses she had previously experienced from men had mostly been bruising, cruel, and degrading.
Mrs. Goodbodie clapped her hands. "Congratulations! Marriage is a wonderful estate. I've been married to Pastor Goodbodie for eight years and I can tell you it just gets better and better. We have three children and hope for many more."
At the mention of children, Angel felt gut wrenching heartache. Grabbing her stomach, she bent slightly forward. Luke placed his hands on her shoulders. "Honey, are you okay?"
"I just need to sit for a minute."
Mrs. Goodbodie said, "Gracious goodness, come sit on the bench."
> Luke assisted Angel to the front pew and she focused on a spot on the floor. Concentrating, she regained her composure. Turning to Mrs. Goodbodie sitting beside her, she said, "I thank you and Pastor Goodbodie for your kindness."
The peppy woman patted her hand. "Now, whenever you two are in town, you must worship with us. I know the other parishioners would love to meet you. Everyone adores Luke." She gave Angel's hand a final pat and laughed. "Our single women are going to be so disappointed that he's taken."
Luke interrupted, "We need to leave now to catch our train." He reached his hand under Angel's elbow in a gentlemanly gesture when she stood. After bidding Pastor and Mrs. Goodbodie goodbye, he led her outside to reenter the coach that had waited for them.
Angel avoided meeting Luke's gaze when the horses clopped forward. Reaching into her reticule she retrieved her gloves and paused, staring at the wedding band. The ring was simply stunning. Quickly donning her gloves, she lifted questioning eyes to Luke's. He glanced from her hand to her face, an intense expression shadowing his eyes. Angel quickly shifted her gaze to the window. No words were spoken during the ride back to her hotel to gather her things.
* * *
Luke paced the depot platform feeling like a caged animal. Angel sat on the bench behind him. The train was late, but that wasn't the reason for his agitation. The light kiss he had bestowed on Angel after the pastor had pronounced them husband and wife had opened a floodgate of desire. Knowing that there could be nothing physical between them only served to make him irritable. Turning to pace in the other direction, he slid a sideways glance at her and hot desire shot through him. Damn! I hope this isn't going to plague me until I deliver her to San Francisco. The bellow of the train whistle momentarily distracted him.
After what seemed like a long unloading and boarding process, they were finally seated near the front of the first car in the best seat money could buy. Still, given the few people that traveled to Bingham, it wasn't much. Luke settled Angel next to the window and took the aisle seat. His keen eye honed in on a couple of rough cowboys standing outside that pointed toward Angel and jabbed one another. He glanced at her to see if she had noticed and saw a look of panic cross her face. Patting her hand, he said, "I'm here, Angel. No one is going to harm you." Surprisingly, she didn't pull her hand away. When the cowboys boarded the train, he squeezed her fingers and leaned over her toward the window, shielding her from their view.
After the last person boarded, the porter stepped down the aisle giving everyone a once over and checking tickets, and then the whistle blew. The train began a slow chug forward, increasing its speed until it reached its traveling rate. Luke sensed Angel relax beside him and within an hour she was nodding as she dozed. Gently pulling her head against his shoulder, he tried to make her as comfortable as possible. Before long, he had turned his body toward hers so she would have more support. Her little hat tickled his nose, and he could smell the freshness of her hair. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and soon drifted to sleep himself.
The slowing of the train woke Luke. In his sleep he had encircled an arm around Angel's shoulders and pulled her against his chest. She felt so soft and warm he didn't move away. He heard her sigh and tightened his hold. At her sudden gasp, he berated himself for waking her. She bolted upright and stared mortified into his eyes.
Lazily, he straightened his body. The porter yelled, "Jeremiah's Crossing. One hour stopover."
While Angel composed herself, Luke asked, "Are you hungry? We can eat something here and have supper in Bingham."
"I'm fine, Luke. I just need to stretch my legs."
After the train stopped at the station, Luke stepped into the aisle and waited for Angel to exit in front of him. While they got their bearings on the depot boardwalk, the rowdy cowboys disembarked and started pulling out the makings for rolling a smoke. Both men had their eyes trained on Angel.
"Come on Angel; let's find something to eat anyway."
She didn't resist when he held her elbow and led her inside the depot. Arrows pointed the way to a small dining room and the friendly hostess immediately sat them at a window seat in the almost empty room.
The plump, middle-aged woman with slightly graying hair and rosy cheeks, smiled widely. "Howdy, folks. Welcome to Sadie's Diner. I'm Sadie and sure glad you stopped in. Our special today is roast beef, fried tators, mouth watering biscuits, and apple pie. Do ya'll want menus or the special?"
Luke glanced at Angel. She said, "The special is fine. Thank you."
He looked at Sadie's round face and decided she was probably a good cook. "Make that two specials. I look forward to the apple pie."
Sadie grinned. "You're gonna love it! It was my granny's recipe."
Out the window, Luke watched the cowboys puffing on their cigarettes. He'd placed Angel so she was facing away from them. They were troublemakers through and through. Their stance and sullen faces gave them away. He had no doubt they would have accosted Angel if he hadn't been with her. An appreciation of her anxiety reinforced itself in his heart.
The dinner was excellent and Luke noticed that Angel ate every bite. The woman had a great appetite considering they'd eaten a quick lunch before leaving Dallas. When Sadie served huge slices of apple pie, Luke grinned. Oh yeah.
He waited for Angel to take the first bite and watched her chew it, test it, and close her eyes with a look of bliss. Her actions started his heart hammering and unbidden images raced across his mind of the two of them… Quickly sipping his coffee he choked when he swallowed down the wrong pipe.
"Are you okay?" Angel handed him a glass of water.
"Fine. Fine. How's the pie?"
"It's delicious. Just the right amount of sugar and cinnamon. The natural flavor of the apples isn't overwhelmed. I simply must ask if this is a secret recipe."
The change in Angel's countenance as she spoke overwhelmed Luke. She was beautiful beyond words.
Sadie walked over and asked how they liked their pie. Luke realized that he had been so involved with watching Angel; he hadn't even taken a bite. "Just give me a sec and I'll let you know." He lifted a giant bite to his mouth and found himself closing his eyes in ecstasy, too. With his mouthful, he mumbled, "I've died and gone to heaven." He finished the sentence in his mind—with my Angel.
Sadie laughed. "That's the reaction I always get. Never fails."
While Luke enjoyed the rest of his pie, Angel and Sadie began a conversation about apple pies. Watching Angel's animation in talking about a subject obviously dear to her heart made Luke's heart expand.
Sadie said to Angel, "Honey, I don't give my recipe out to just anybody, but I can see you're a baker."
Angel replied shyly, "Well, yes, I just bought my own bakery and hope to have it running within two months. I'd love to bake your pie recipe. I'll call it Sadie's Apple Pie, and give you all the credit."
"Well, ain't that right nice. Okay, here's the recipe and the secret." Sadie lowered her voice and whispered the ingredients, and then she began a dissertation on the merits of different types of apples, spices, and the perfect baking time and temperature. Luke was out of his element and listened with fascination. He'd had no idea of the intricacies involved in baking the perfect apple pie.
Someone shouted from the diner's entrance, "Train leaves in ten minutes!"
Luke broke into the conversation. "Er, honey, we better get going."
Still listening enraptured to Sadie, Angel said, "Yes. Just a moment."
After a couple of minutes Luke pushed his chair back and stood beside the table to hurry things along. Sadie laughed and said to Angel, "Yer man's gettin' impatient. Better git goin'. Now don't fergit the right amount of nutmeg."
Angel glanced up at Luke as he scooted her chair back, a happy glow lighting her face. "What a lovely woman," she said as she watched Sadie walk away.
Luke mentally shook his head at the change in Angel just by talking about something dear to her heart.
Back on the platform they had to p
ass the two cowboys. Luke switched places with Angel so that he was on the side next to them. He held her elbow, but of her own volition she reached and grasped his arm tightly. Just when he'd breathed a sigh of relief that the men were going to ignore them, one of them said loud enough to be heard, "I'd sure like ta git me some o' that fluff. Bet she's a screamer."
Luke heard Angel's sharp intake of breath and felt her hand tightened even more on his arm. "Don't fret, Angel," he spoke calmly. He wanted to turn and shove a fist in the ignorant ol' boys' mouths, and could probably have laid them both out in a brawl, but that would have been a stupid move on his part with Angel present.
Returning to their seats, Luke noticed Angel's animation had vanished. Once again, she wore a strained look. He cursed and reached to hold her hand. She didn't pull it away, but neither did she return his squeeze. The rude cowpokes entered and snickered as they walked to the back of the coach. Only then did Angel return the pressure of his hand.
It was dark by the time the porter yelled, "Bingham next stop!" The train slowed, brakes squealed, and the whistle blew.
While the porters unloaded their suitcases, Luke kept a sharp eye on the cowboys. They slung saddlebags over their shoulders and seemed to have forgotten Angel as they rushed off the platform. He sensed Angel's relief, but he still kept a vigilant watch. "There's a nice hotel a few blocks over. I'll hail a carriage to take us there." He turned to the only coach in the area and started to call for a ride when the driver slapped the reins and it took off with other travelers. The area was clearing fast and he didn't think it wise to hang around the lone street waiting for another ride, but neither did he want to walk the empty streets. He had to make a decision. He said, "Angel, you carry the small suitcase and I'll carry the other two. We'll start walking toward the hotel and maybe another buggy will drive by. It's not too far." Before he picked up the suitcases, he pulled his derringer out of his calf holster and shoved it under his belt buckle while Angel silently watched. "Come on; let's think about what we want to eat at the hotel." He tried to lighten the mood.