Mail Order Angelique

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Mail Order Angelique Page 6

by Margaret Tanner


  She was leaning over the stove cracking eggs into the pan when she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck.

  “Why do you use that lavender perfume all the time?”

  “It isn’t perfume. I dry the lavender out and place it in muslin bags. I like the smell and it keeps moths away. Don’t you like it?”

  “I like it fine, it’s just that I’m not used to it. I could even smell it on the letters you sent Tim.”

  “You could?”

  “Yes, it made me curious about you.” He stepped back. “I thought you must sprinkle perfume on it.”

  She laughed. “Perfume is expensive. If I could afford to buy it, I certainly wouldn’t be dabbing it on my letters. Sit down and I’ll dish our food up. Robbie usually takes a short nap about now. He has a feed at eight o’clock then sleeps until one or two in the morning.”

  “It must have been hard having a baby on your own.”

  “I wasn’t exactly on my own, I had Mrs. Taylor and Preacher Tom and his wife.”

  “Why did you want to leave them?”

  He was well mannered she noticed as he cut his food into small portions and chewed it with his mouth closed. Her grandmother had been strict about table manners, probably the English coming out in her.

  “The house was too small for all of us. I shared Mrs. Taylor’s bed and I know the baby woke her up when he cried even though she pretended to be asleep. She was such a lovely lady. When my grandparents moved, I went to live with her. That was before I met Timothy. Are you sure they would have received the telegram you sent them?”

  “Yes, I’m sure they know you are both safe and well.”

  “They were good people and I’d hate for them to worry about me. I promised to write and let them know how things are going and I will.”

  “That’s good, maybe you could go visit with them sometime?”

  “I’d like, too, especially Mrs. Taylor.”

  “When things aren’t so busy here, I’ll take you. A belated honeymoon.” He grinned.

  “This isn’t a real marriage.”

  “I guess not. No-one but us needs to know that.”

  “Have another biscuit,” she invited.

  “Thanks, don’t mind if I do, these are good.” He licked his lips.

  She smiled. “I thought you might have liked them; this is about your fourth one.”

  He laughed and it was a nice sound that did funny things to her insides. It wouldn’t be hard to fall in love with him. You loved Timothy and he’s only been dead for a little over twelve months, two little voices argued inside her head.

  “Do you need help with cleaning up?” he asked.

  “No thanks, I can do it.”

  “Okay, well I’ve got a few accounts I need to look through then I might turn in. I’ve got an early start in the morning.”

  “I’ll cook your breakfast.”

  “Thanks, don’t bother. I can eat a couple of leftover biscuits. As long as I have a coffee that’s the main thing.”

  “What about your midday meal?” She played with a loosened strand of hair.

  “Don’t worry, Bert is coming with me tomorrow, he’ll probably snare us a rabbit or a fish. He’s got Indian blood and spent a few years living with them.”

  “I did wonder about that because of his dark skin and eyes.”

  “Hughie will stay around here; he’s got a few things lined up to do.”

  “He doesn’t have to stay because of me.”

  Clint pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “He’s not staying here because of you. I always like to have someone close to the house. Bert is coming with me tomorrow because he’s so good at scouting for strays and reading the signs on the ground. Even though both men are nearly seventy, they can turn their hands at anything.”

  The baby woke up about eight o’clock to be fed, and that was when Clint said he would turn in.

  “Goodnight,” she said. “Sleep well.”

  “Thanks, don’t stay up too late, you’re starting to look pale and drawn again.”

  He climbed up the narrow staircase and disappeared into the loft.

  Angel did feel weary, the long train journey with all its interruptions, had taken a lot out of her. Plenty of jobs needed to be done; they could wait until morning.

  She wanted to make a nice home for Clint as it was obvious, he hadn’t had one in years. How could she hate a woman she didn’t know? Yet she hated his wife, evil creature that she was.

  Chapter Eight

  Clint cursed under his breath. “Sleep well,” she’d said. How could a man sleep, knowing Angel was lying almost directly under him? She sure was a pretty gal. He envied Tim his time with her.

  He punched the pillow several times. Keeping this a marriage in name only wasn’t going to be as easy as he had thought. On the one hand it would have been better had she been a hag, on the other hand, a man did have his pride and he hadn’t imagined the envious looks from several young cowboys they had passed in the street. Not only was Angel pretty, she had a sweet nature. She stirred up feelings in him that he had snuffed out years ago.

  Hughie had said he was a fool to have put such a stipulation on the marriage. He had never thought about having kids before, now thinking on it, he wouldn’t mind. At least there was now someone with McKenzie blood flowing in his veins. He would try to be a good father to the boy, bring him up to be strong, honest and decent.

  He felt as if he’d only just shut his eyes when the baby’s loud crying woke him. The kid sure did have a bellow on him. Suddenly the noise stopped, and the lamp in the kitchen flared into life. He closed his eyes again.

  The crying started up. What was she doing? In the end he couldn’t stand it and rolled out of bed. Luckily, he had decided to wear his drawers instead of sleeping naked like he normally did.

  “What’s going on down there? Can’t a man get any sleep?”

  He climbed down to the kitchen to be met by a tearful Angel pacing the floor with the baby against her shoulder.

  “He won’t stop crying.”

  “Well, feed him.” He couldn’t stop staring at her. In a thin cotton nightgown, he could see every curve of her body. Her hair hanging loose almost touched her waist. It was a tangled mass of golden curls.

  “He won’t drink.”

  “Here, give him to me, you look ready to collapse.”

  She handed the baby over. He rested the child against his shoulder and patted his back. Baby feet pummeled his bare chest. “He might have colic.”

  “What!”

  “Colic, horses get it.”

  “He’s not a horse.”

  “Babies get it, too.”

  “How would you know?” She brushed the tears off her cheeks with her fingertips.

  “I don’t know. I must have heard it somewhere, read it maybe.”

  “What will we do?”

  “Hey, come on, little man, don’t do this to us.”

  Fear darkened Angel’s eyes and he felt helpless. He kept walking up and down patting the baby’s back. Gradually the crying lessened, the little legs ceased their frantic movement. Clint angled his head and saw the baby’s eyes were now closed. Maybe it had just been a belly ache.

  “I’m a bad mother.” She sobbed. “I couldn’t stop my baby’s pain and you did.”

  “I didn’t do anything different to you, except my hands are larger, my touch heavier than yours that’s all. Darlin’, could you button up your nightgown, a man can only stand so much.”

  Red suffused her face as she did up the buttons. The gentlemanly part of him had to tell her he could see part of her bare breast, the carnal part of him, wanted to keep staring at the smooth white skin. Wanted to see even more of it. Was he going crazy?

  He now knew he had made a terrible mistake insisting on not consummating their marriage. He wanted to do it now, wanted it so badly it was killing him to be denied. It had seemed a good idea until he met
and saw how pretty she was.

  “He’s asleep,” she said.

  “I know, hopefully he’ll stay like it. Where’s his bed, I’ll put him in it then maybe we can get some sleep. You bring the lamp. I don’t want to trip over while I’m holding him.”

  “It was the onions.”

  What!”

  “I shouldn’t have eaten the onions, maybe they contaminated my milk?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter he’s fallen asleep that’s the main thing.” He gently placed the baby in the basket. “We’ll have to get him a bed, he can’t sleep in this basket much longer.”

  “I was thinking of making up a bed in the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers,” she said. “Until Bert makes him the bed he promised.”

  “It could work,” he mused.

  “I have heard of babies sleeping in drawers before. It would make a sturdy, comfortable bed,” she said.

  “I guess so. Maybe try it during the day when he has a sleep just to make sure it’s suitable.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “Hop into bed then I’ll snuff out the bedside lamp. I’ll take the other one back to the kitchen with me.”

  He watched her climb into bed and was tempted to join her. Maybe he was feeling this way because he hadn’t shared a house with a woman for so long, and after a couple of days, once he got used to her it wouldn’t matter. Who was he trying to fool? Angel raised emotions in him he didn’t want to feel. Once she was in bed, he left the lamp on the dresser.

  “Goodnight, Angel. He’ll be okay so stop worrying.”

  “Thank you. I shouldn’t have gone to pieces like this, only Robbie is all I’ve got.”

  You’ve got me, he bit the words back before they tumbled out of his mouth. If he didn’t get some sleep, he’d be useless for work in the morning. What was there about her that made him act like a gibbering fool?

  ****

  Next morning when Angel awoke, the sun streamed through the window, the house was silent. When the baby woke around dawn, he had soiled himself and once changed and fed he went to sleep, and she hadn’t heard a peep out of him since.

  After washing and dressing, she made herself a cup of tea. The stove had been stoked up letting the coffee pot remain warm. She nibbled on a biscuit left over from supper.

  Clint had obviously eaten by the empty cup and biscuit crumbs on the plate. She felt bad about not getting up to cook him something more substantial.

  With the worry of them leaving Kilvington and traveling here to meet a stranger now gone and a comfortable roof over her head with a decent man who would look after them, she could relax. Before Timothy came into her life she had been relaxed and confident about her abilities, once he disappeared and she found herself pregnant, she had become fearful and needy.

  Mid-morning, she was pegging the washing on the line when Hughie strode up carrying a bucket. “Howdy.”

  “Good morning.”

  “Here’s some milk, I thought you might want some of it. Clint never uses it, so Bert and I use what we want and feed the rest to the pigs.”

  “Thank you. I can milk a cow, so if you get busy….”

  “No, I don’t mind, Bert and I usually take turns. The cow is a cantankerous old thing who’s stingy with the milk she gives out, enough for us, though.”

  “I was going to make myself a cup of tea now I’ve finished here. Would you like a cup?”

  He hesitated.

  “I made ginger cookies.”

  He grinned. “I won’t turn that down, thanks.”

  “Only if you want to, but you and Bert are welcome to have supper with us each night.”

  “You don’t want to take on too much work, you’ve got the baby to think of.”

  He hung his hat on the door peg, revealing sparse grey hair. “You’ve cleaned the place up.” He glanced around. “Clint was never much good on house cleaning. Poor Tim was tidy.”

  “It’s been awful. I thought Timothy had deserted me after two days of marriage.”

  “This family has been dogged by bad luck ever since Clint got mixed up with Josephine and her evil sister. I reckon the devil was in them. They made Clint’s life a living hell.”

  “Why did he marry Josephine?”

  “He was young and foolish. She was staying at the Royal Hotel in Laramie, stupidly he called in on her. Her father came back and caught them together unchaperoned and kicked up such a fuss he felt obliged to marry her. Her father was a ruthless, powerful man living just inside the law, if you ask me. I think they thought Clint was a rich rancher.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Anyway, she spent more time away from the ranch than at it. She hated the place. When Clint refused to sell it and move to Denver where she came from, the marriage was doomed. Well, it probably was from the very start under the circumstances. Then Celia, the sister arrived and tried to get her hooks into Tim.” Hugh chuckled. “He might have been younger than Clint, but he was smarter. After seeing what his brother was going through, he made sure he didn’t get trapped the same way.”

  “They both sound horrible.”

  “They were. Josephine deliberately burnt the ranch house down because she thought Clint would sell the place then. Anyway, she got trapped inside and died. Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord, and I reckon that’s what happened.”

  “You’re quoting from the bible.”

  “I know. Thou shalt not commit adultery, one of the ten commandments,” he said. “And Josephine did plenty of that.”

  Disgust curdled Angel’s stomach. Now she understood why Clint was the way he was.

  Hughie chuckled as he picked up a second cookie. “You’re wondering how I can quote from the good book?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “My father was a preacher man.”

  “Oh?”

  “One of those always preaching fire and brimstone. I cleared off when I was about twelve, drifted for a few years then came here and Clint’s granddaddy hired me, and I’ve been here ever since.”

  “You and Bert have been loyal friends to Clint, he told me you were like family.”

  The baby started crying. “I’ll just go and get him before he gets worked up into a state.” She hurried into the bedroom and picked him up. “Shush, baby, don’t cry, we’ve got a visitor.” She carried him out to the kitchen. The crying had stopped but she knew it wouldn’t be long before it started up again if he wasn’t fed. She couldn’t do it in front of Hughie yet could hardly ask him to leave.

  Hughie stood and drank the last of his coffee. “I better be off so you can feed him. Fine looking boy. Tim would have been proud of him. Clint is quite taken with him, too.”

  He spoke directly to the baby. “You’re a charmer like your old man.” Robbie pursed his lips causing Hughie to grin. “That Tim could charm the birds out of a tree. Clint was always much quieter. I think the responsibility for the ranch was a heavy load for him to carry. He was only twenty when his father died, and he took over running the place.”

  Robbie started to grizzle. “I’ll leave you to feed him. Thanks for the coffee and cookies. Grabbing his hat off the peg he walked off with his slightly bow-legged gait.

  As she fed the baby, she mulled over what she had learned. Celia was Clint’s sister-in-law and he had told her over supper last night that she had been trying to get him into her clutches, which was why he married her. She hadn’t known whether to be flattered or insulted but understood his position.

  It was obvious he had never been madly in love with his wife but her betraying him with other men must have just about broken him. Any wonder he was mistrustful of women almost to the point of hating them.

  Chapter Nine

  Three weeks later

  Clint left for work at dawn and came back at dusk. Either Hughie or Bert stayed behind with her.

  She had just finished feeding the baby when the front door burst open. A crazed woman
launched herself into the room. Angel only knew she was a woman because of the long black hair cascading over her shoulders as she wore men’s clothing.

  “You harlot. You bed faggot,” the woman screamed like a demented witch. “You stole Clint from me.”

  This had to be Celia. She was unstable and obviously dangerous.

  “He would have married me if it wasn’t for you and that brat of yours.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. Thought you could have both McKenzie brothers, didn’t you? I saw them first. They should be mine.” She marched up and down punching at the air with a clenched fist. “You took something from me and I’m going to take something from you.”

  Lunging for the baby she tried to rip him out of Angel’s arms. “Give it to me.”

  “Never, I’d die before I let you touch my baby.” Angel glanced around searching for a weapon. She would kill this woman if need be to protect Robbie.

  Fear welled in her throat until she felt sick with it. She pushed the crying baby to the back of the armchair and leapt to her feet to face her foe. They were like two dogs fighting over the same prey.

  “Give me the brat,” Celia shrieked.

  “Never,” Angel screamed back. If she made enough noise maybe Bert would hear it.

  Celia produced a gun and waved it around. “You think I’d be stupid enough to come here without a weapon? You are going to die.”

  Angel couldn’t believe what was happening. Her breathing became constricted, her brain wouldn’t function properly. Her head felt like it was ready to explode.

  “I’m going to grab that kid of yours, hold it by one leg and dangle it’s head in a bucket of water and drown the screaming brat.”

  The threat to her baby released Angel from her shocked paralysis. She dived at Celia, knocking the gun from her hand and kicking it away. Then they were grappling like wild animals.

 

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