Mail Order Angelique

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Mail Order Angelique Page 3

by Margaret Tanner


  “Oh, baby, I hope I’m doing the right thing. You need a man in your life and more importantly, we need a safe comfortable roof over our heads.”

  Having made her decision, she felt better. Now the dilemma was whether to tell Clinton she was Timothy’s widow. She would go to the train station tomorrow and find out when a train left for Laramie, then write the letter. No need to mention her true status yet. It wouldn’t be a lie. Of course, it would, you would be lying by omission her conscience prompted.

  “I’ll deal with it when the time comes,” she muttered. One step at a time. If she dithered, he might write off somewhere else for a mail-order bride.

  ****

  Next morning after breakfast Angel helped with some housework. Agnes kept saying. “You need to rest, Angel. Nursing a baby takes a lot out of a woman. I don’t expect you to do too much. I know you feel as if you have to help, but it isn’t necessary.” She smiled. “Take a nice leisurely stroll to the station and check out the trains. I know there’s always one in the morning, but don’t feel as if you must leave us. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

  “Thanks, Agnes, you’ve all been so kind to Robbie and me, but this is a good opportunity for us. With a baby I wouldn’t dare marry a stranger.”

  “Well, Timothy did speak highly of his brother,” Mrs. Taylor said. “I suppose if you’ve got your heart set on finding a father for the babe, you couldn’t go past him.”

  “A marriage in name only gives you a let out if things were to turn bad,” Agnes mused. “You could easily get an annulment.”

  Mrs. Taylor gave a snort of disgust. “Marriage is for life.”

  “I know,” Agnes said, “but if the worst happened Angel has a way out.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too. I know it’s a shameful thing to go into a marriage, prepared to leave if things don’t work out, but I’ve got Robbie to think of. He’s the most important thing in my life. I have to do the best I can, and Timothy would want him to meet his uncle.”

  “Are you going to tell this Clinton McKenzie about Robbie being his nephew?” Mrs. Taylor arched an eyebrow.

  “No, I’m not going to say anything until I meet him, then I’ll decide.”

  “Good idea.” Mrs. Taylor shocked her by saying.

  Agnes rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure it’s the best thing to do, but follow your heart, Angel. God will lead you on to the right path.”

  Chapter Four

  Clint waited for the early afternoon train from Kilvington. He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt, made worse by the fact the train was running late. Deep down he hadn’t expected Angelique to accept his proposal. Did he secretly hope she wouldn’t?

  He sat in the buckboard under the shade of a tree going over in his head what he would say. He could still back out if he wanted to by giving her the money to buy a ticket back to Kilvington.

  You fool. It is her or Celia. He couldn’t believe the cheek of Celia coming out to the ranch and offering herself to him. Thank goodness Bert had been with him and threatened her with his Winchester, otherwise she would not have left unless he’d picked her up and carried her out of his house and on to her horse.

  He shuddered; he didn’t want to touch her – ever. Finally, she had ridden off. No, he had to go through with this marriage to Angelique. If Celia decided to return to Laramie she would soon find out about his new bride and hopefully would leave town and never return. Once he was legally unavailable, she would turn her attentions elsewhere. She had already buried two husbands over the years. He couldn’t help but wonder whether she had murdered them.

  Even if Angelique was a hag, he would be better off with her than Celia. Surely Tim wouldn’t have chosen an ugly woman to wed. Maybe that was why he was on the Cheyanne train. She was so ugly he had fled.

  He felt sick with dread when he spotted the smoke then heard the train. Get a grip on yourself man. It’s not as if you haven’t been married before. That was the trouble, he had been married before. He could have sworn he heard his heart pounding.

  Climbing down from the buckboard he took a deep breath, took off his hat and wiped his sweating brow with one hand. The train drew into the station with a hissing of steam as he stepped onto the platform.

  Passengers alighted, mainly couples or families by the looks of them. Oh no! Surely that fat woman wearing a too tight purple dress with her breasts almost hanging out wasn’t Angelique. His stomach curdled with distaste. He was just about to turn tail and flee when a flashily dressed man hurried up to her and they kissed rapturously.

  His gut churned. What have you done, McKenzie? Are you crazy or what?

  Even as his eyes skimmed the platform, he noticed the porter staggering off the train with a large trunk, then he turned and dragged out another one. Where was Angelique? She could have at least had the decency to let him know she had changed her mind.

  “Is that all your luggage, Ma’am?” He heard the porter say. “Are you being met?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Clint swung around. The owner of the luggage was a pretty gal. Blonde hair from what he could see under her bonnet. She wore a black dress with white trim on it. Her skin was white and flawless except for dark circles under her pale blue eyes. She looked exhausted and so sad he was moved by her appearance. She clutched a large reed basket as if her life depended on it.

  Damn Angelique for letting him down. Anger surged in his breast as he started to walk away. Surely, he wasn’t such a bad prospect in the husband stakes?

  “Clinton McKenzie?”

  He swung around. It was the young woman. “Yes, who’s asking?”

  “Angelique.”

  “What! You’re Angelique? You’re very young.”

  “I’m twenty-one.”

  “You don’t look it.” She certainly wasn’t a hag. She was real pretty. The platform cleared and they were the only two left except for station staff.

  “Um, I’ve brought a buckboard. I thought you would have luggage but not as much as this.”

  “I had to bring extra things because of….”

  “I’ll get a trolley.” He stepped over to where several of them were lined up and wheeled one over to her. He lifted the bigger trunk first, then piled the other one on the top. “Here, give me that.” He went to grab the basket.

  “No.” She backed away.

  “Give it to me. I’ll put it on the trolley with the rest of your luggage.”

  “No, I’ll hold it.”

  “What does it contain? The family jewels?” He grinned. “I won’t steal them.”

  Was she crazy in the head? That’s all he needed – to wed a crazy woman. “Come on.” He lost patience with her, grabbing one of the handles he left her holding the other one. The basket opened and he let out a shocked gasp. “What’s that?”

  “A baby.”

  “I can see that. What are you doing with it?”

  Her mouth trembled. He hurriedly pushed the handle back at her. She had a baby. Why hadn’t he realized there was something strange about this whole affair. A pretty gal like her not being able to get a man. Now he knew why. He couldn’t believe how disappointed he felt.

  “You lied to me,” he growled. “What else have you hidden from me?”

  She turned so pale he feared she might faint. He led her over to a seat. “Here, sit down before you collapse.” He didn’t need a woman fainting at his feet. “Look, Angelique. I’m sorry, but I don’t need a woman with a baby. I’ll pay your train fair back to Kilvington.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but he wouldn’t be falling for that feminine ploy.

  “There, there isn’t a train until tomorrow.”

  “Um, well, I’ll take you to the hotel and pay for you to stay the night, if you promise to leave in the morning.”

  Angelique couldn’t believe that Clinton McKenzie was rejecting her because of Robbie. Maybe he wasn’t as decent as she had thought he was. He w
as a fine figure of a man, an older edition of Timothy except his hair was darker, his features a little more roughly hewn. He had the same deep blue eyes. Whereas Timothy’s had been bright and full of laughter, his were ice cold.

  Her head was aching so badly it felt like it was ready to split in half. If he hadn’t guided her to the seat, she might well have collapsed.

  “I’ve got a canteen in my buckboard I’ll go get it. You look like you could do with a drink.”

  “Thanks, it was a long journey what with the delays and all.”

  “You should have slept on the train.”

  “How?”

  “Close your eyes, that’s what most people do.”

  “I had to stay awake. If I’d fallen asleep someone might have stolen my baby.”

  Grim faced, he stared into the basket where the baby slept.

  “I’m sorry, Angelique, I can’t marry you. I was prepared to take on a wife, but not one with a baby. Where’s it’s father?”

  “Dead.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  She glared at him. “He is.”

  “It’s not my problem, I’m sorry. I don’t need a wife so badly I’d be prepared to be lumbered with another man’s kid.”

  “You, you.” Angel didn’t know why she chose this moment to stand up to him. Yes, she did. A mother fighting for her child’s welfare. “Another man’s kid,” she yelled. “He’s Timothy’s son.”

  Shock registered in his eyes, followed by fury. It bounced off her in waves. “You, lying little trollop.”

  “And I’m his widow.”

  He leapt to his feet. “Get out of my sight and take your illegitimate offspring with you.”

  “I’ve got proof.”

  “What proof?” he shot back.

  “I have my marriage certificate.”

  She watched the color fade from his face, the anger evaporating from his eyes. He looked so distraught she almost felt sorry for him.

  “Timothy married me, and we had two nights together.” She brushed the tears away from her cheeks with her arm. “He said he was going back to the ranch to get a wagon to put my belongings in. He never came back and I thought… I thought he’d run off and left me.”

  “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  “All the time he was dead.” Sobs wracked her body and Clint put his arm around her. He smelled her scent – lavender.

  “What will become of us if you don’t marry me?”

  “Don’t get upset. We can work something out.”

  “Like what? I know you don’t have much money left.” She sniffed. “Timothy told me about your wife spending….”

  “He didn’t have the right.”

  “He was your brother and was upset at what had happened to you.” She touched his hand and he jerked back. “When I met you, he wanted me to know that money would be scarce, and we’d have to all work hard to get the ranch back to how it used to be.”

  A muscle convulsed in his jaw.

  “We could still get married like we planned.”

  He gnawed his lip.

  “I know I should have told you about the baby, about Timothy, but I guess I was scared. A little boy needs a man in his life. Who better than his uncle?”

  “I didn’t plan on there being a baby.”

  “Are you telling me, you’d turn your back on your brother’s son? He’s of your blood, Clinton.”

  “I won’t turn my back on him, you either, but marriage. I mean….”

  “What difference does it make. I’m a widow, you’re a widower? You need someone to keep house for you, help on the ranch. I can do that. And I need somewhere safe to live with a man who will help me care for Robbie. Who would be better than his uncle, someone of his own kin?”

  He kept gnawing his lower lip and slapped his thigh in agitation. “I don’t know. I’m so shocked I can’t think straight.”

  “I should have told you, but I didn’t know what to do.” She ran a trembling hand across her forehead.

  “You don’t look so good.”

  “I feel awful. My head aches and lights are dancing before my eyes.”

  “Don’t faint on me.”

  “I have to get away from the station. Can you take me to the hotel? I need to lie down. I can’t get sick. Who will look after Robbie? I should have stayed with Preacher Tom and his family even if it was crowded.”

  “Come on, I’ll take you to the hotel and you can have a lie down. Can you stand up? Walk?”

  Clint couldn’t believe the state she was in, sick and distraught and with a baby. If something happened to her it would be his fault. He wasn’t a callous man, didn’t think he was uncouth, either, yet he had said some dreadful things to her.

  Tim had a son that he never knew about, a wife he had spent only two days with. It was a tragedy and his unfeeling behavior must have cut her to the core. Such a pretty, fragile little gal she was too.

  He wanted to look at Tim’s son. Hopefully he would favor his father, that’s if babies looked like anyone. He knew nothing about human babies.

  “Excuse me.” He called out to the young porter who dashed over. “Can you take the lady’s luggage to my buckboard, it’s over there by the tree. My sister-in-law isn’t feeling well, I’ll have to help her.”

  “Sure.”

  “Lean against me, Angelique, I’ll carry the basket.”

  Her eyes were nearly closed he noticed with a frown. She was exhausted. It must have been a hellish trip for her. He carried the basket in one hand and put his other arm around her shoulders. He could feel her trembling against him. The twenty-five yards to the buckboard felt like that many miles. Finally, they made it.

  “Thanks.” He flipped the boy a coin after he placed the trunks in the back of the buckboard.

  He lifted Angelique up on to the seat and walked around to the driver’s side. What could he do with the baby? She didn’t look able to hold him.

  “Sit close to me and I’ll put the basket on your knee and if I put my arm around you, I can hold the handles as well.”

  It wasn’t an ideal situation yet the best he could come up with. Thank goodness they didn’t have far to go. The Royal Hotel was the closest and the most expensive. He had no choice. This was where Celia always stayed, that would be enough to turn him off it for life. Thank heaven she had gone as he wasn’t up to fending off her advances right now. He was in shock.

  Angelique hadn’t shown him her marriage lines, yet he believed her. If he did marry her it would solve a lot of problems, create a few, too. He would have help and company at the ranch. Tim’s widow and child would be taken care of; he wouldn’t trust any other man to look after them.

  The marriage in name only would be harder now as she was pretty. He could cope without his conjugal rights. He had been doing it for years with Josephine. The strange part was she had been willing. He was not once he found out she had given herself to other men. Worst of all she was proud of it. It sickened him. Everything about her sickened him now.

  Stop tearing yourself apart he inwardly admonished himself.

  Chapter Five

  Clint breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the Royal Hotel. “Are you okay?” Stupid question, she wasn’t. She looked even worse than before. If she became really sick, he didn’t know what he’d do. He couldn’t look after a baby, particularly a tiny one like this. He didn’t dare leave her on her own in case she toppled over. She held the handles of the basket in a death grip. He pried her fingers loose to get hold of the basket, which he placed on the seat beside her, before lifting her down.

  He’d have to get her settled into a room then attend to the horse. They would have to stay the night; he couldn’t leave her in this state on her own.

  She was almost slumped against him as he helped her into the hotel lobby where a man sat behind a large desk watching them.

  “Howdy,” Clint said. “I need a couple of rooms for the night please.”

/>   “I’ve got one double room left.”

  “What do you mean one?”

  “There’s a wedding party staying here, they’ve just about taken over the hotel. Take it or leave it.”

  “All right, I’ll take it.” He prayed it would be on the ground floor. He doubted she would make it up the stairs. “My sister-in-law has just got off the train and isn’t feeling well.”

  The man peered at Angelique and Clint didn’t like the predatory gleam in his eyes. Pompous varmint. “I’ll need somewhere to stable my horse.”

  “We’ve got stables here.”

  “I’ll need someone to bring Mrs. McKenzie’s trunks in.” He signed the register the man pushed over to him and almost snatched the key out of his hand.

  “Room four, second door on the left.”

  “Thanks.” Clint could have cried with relief when they entered the room which contained a double bed, closet and dressing table. He placed the basket on the floor before helping her over to the bed. “Maybe you should take your dress off.”

  She stared at him through large shadowed eyes.

  “I mean, you’ll be more comfortable.”

  There was a knock at the door. “Come in.” A youth wheeled the trunks in and placed them on the floor and scuttled off, banging the door behind him. It must have startled the baby as he started crying.

  “Pick him up,” she said.

  “Me? I don’t know how to pick up a baby.”

  “Please, if I bend over my head will crack open, he needs feeding.”

  “Well, I certainly can’t do that.” What a day this was turning out to be. As he stepped over to the basket, he was shocked to see her start undoing the buttons on her bodice.

  “Support his back and head.” Her voice was husky.

  He leaned over and dubiously grasped the baby, one hand supporting his neck, the other his body. He had kicked off his blankets, his little legs and arms were flailing. “Don’t cry so hard you’ll do yourself damage.” He didn’t have much hair but the downy fluff he did have was a sandy color like Tim’s when he was a boy.

 

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