by Lisa Rae
It was a long hot day as the wagon train pushed on, only stopping long enough to rest the livestock. The Crow warriors that Angel and Roark had seen that morning appeared every so often off to their west. They never approached, but followed running parallel to the wagon train.
That night they circled the wagons in a tight circle, and half the men stood guard while the other half tried to sleep. Then halfway through the night, they traded places.
Roark took the same watch Diablo did, and stayed within eyesight of him. Diablo didn't do anything unusual. He kept watch as if he really was worried about being attacked.
The next day they traveled with the Crow warriors still following off to their west. When they circled the wagons that night, Angel commented to Calamity Jane, "I wonder why they still haven't attacked us?"
Before Jane could reply, Diablo chimed in from behind Angel. "Because they weren't following us for that purpose."
Whirling around to face Diablo, Angel snapped back, "Then why were they following us? Since it appears you know them better than we do."
Diablo saw the fiery look in Angel's brown eyes and took a moment to enjoy it before answering, "There is a band of Blackfeet in the area. The Crow agreed to help guard the wagon train for a couple days till we were away from the area."
"Why would the Crow want to help us? And how do you know this?" Angel asked, already knowing the last answer.
"When I was out scouting around the other night, I ran into the Crow and they warned me about the Blackfeet. I asked them to follow since Chief Two Bears owed me a favor. Plus I sweetened the deal with some coffee I had in my saddlebags," Diablo explained smiling.
"Why didn't you tell everyone about this so they weren't constantly in fear of being attacked by them?" Calamity Jane asked.
"Before I could say anything, Angel and Roark had already alarmed everyone by telling them about the Crow. I did not want to scare them further by mentioning the Blackfeet. All that really mattered was that they were prepared for an Indian attack."
"I guess I see your point," Jane replied. "Even most Indian tribes avoid conflict with the Blackfeet if at all possible. They sure are an unfriendly murderous bunch."
Smiling at Jane, Diablo said, "Most Indians are actually good people. Whoever decided to label them 'savages' must have only seen the Blackfeet in action."
"The way the government is forcing tribes onto reservations, it won't be long before even the Blackfeet will be forced to become civilized," Angel added in, and both Jane and Diablo nodded their head in agreement.
"I'll talk to you guys later," Calamity Jane said, as she spotted Wild Bill and took off in his direction, leaving Angel alone with Diablo.
"I was going to ride back out and scout around. Would you care to join me?" Diablo asked, hoping to get some more time alone with Angel.
"I . . . uh, sure." Angel replied, not knowing what else to say.
As they rode away from the camp, Angel didn't know what to think or how to feel about Diablo. First she thought she liked him, then she thought he had conspired with the Crow Indians to raid the wagon train, only to find out he went out of his way to help protect everyone. She just didn't know what to make of this mysteriously handsome gunslinger.
They rode on in silence for a good ways before Diablo reined up and climbed down beside a tall standing dead tree, which had been killed by lightening many years ago. It had grown on the top of a ridge that overlooked a prairie valley below to the west.
The sun was setting over the vast prairie below. Many beautiful shades of orange, tinged with purple and red. Diablo had already walked over toward the edge of the ridge before Angel climbed down to join him.
"I never get tired of watching the sunset. It's like a new watercolor picture painted every night, and it's always different," Angel said marveling at the view.
Diablo watched her for a few minutes staring off at the sunset. He had never met any woman like her before. She was confident and tough as nails, but yet she had a soft caring side. He had seen that when he found her crying by the stream. And beautiful! He didn't care that she chooses to wear men's blue jean trousers and silk shirts, instead of a fancy dress. She could wear a flour sack and she would be gorgeous. He definitely liked those tight fighting jeans though. Watching the curves of her bottom always made his jeans tight, forcing him to make some adjustments when she wasn't looking.
Before he realized what he was doing, Diablo walked up to Angel and pulled her into his arms for a long hard kiss as he cradled her head in one of his big hands, and put the other arm around her slim waist, pulling her in close.
She was caught so off guard, that it took Angel a moment to react. It felt so good in Diablo's strong arms with his warm lips on hers.
When she did react, she pushed on his muscled hard chest. Angel then slapped him, and turned away, walking proudly back to her horse. She climbed back into the saddle and rode away without looking back.
Diablo was grinning as he watched her ride away. He liked the fiery temper in her, and was looking forward to taming her. For those brief moments before she had pulled away and slapped him, she had enjoyed his kiss. Of that he was certain.
As Angel rode away, she didn't know whether to be angry with him, or herself for enjoying his kiss and warm embrace.
The last two men she cared for, were now dead. Her husband, Wes Sutherland, had been a U.S. Marshal. He was shot by the man she now hunts for. And Barry Zimmerman had been an outlaw in the Phantom Gang, shot dead by a bounty hunter before Angel could get him amnesty from the governor for helping Julianna escape from the Phantom Gang.
Between her job that required her to travel, and hunting for the man who killed her family, she didn't have time for a relationship with any man. And she especially didn't want one with a man like Diablo. He was a famous gunslinger who could never walk away from his profession. There would always be someone who would want to challenge him. No, she could not afford to let herself fall in love with this handsome gunslinger.
When Angel arrived back at the wagon camp, Roark questioned her, "I was looking all over for you. Where have you been?"
"I rode back out to scout around. Everything looks good. How about we leave out in the early morning hours and get on to our job at Deadwood? I think Utter's wagon train will be fine now. They have plenty of armed men," Angel replied, anxious to get away from Diablo. Being around him dulled her senses.
"Sounds good to me. You better say your good-byes to Wild Bill and Calamity tonight then."
"Let's join them for supper and then get some sleep," Angel suggested as she wanted to keep her mind preoccupied, so she couldn't think about Diablo and that warm kiss.
But later when they laid in their bedrolls under a wagon, Diablo was all she could think about before she fell asleep.
* * *
The next couple days were long but quiet ones. Angel and Roark traveled from daybreak till dusk to make up for the lost time of riding slowly along with the wagon train. When they stopped for the night, they would fix themselves something to eat and then were soon sound asleep.
Roark noticed that Angel was being quieter than usual, but didn't press her. He knew she would talk when she was ready.
On the third evening after leaving the wagon train behind, they came upon an old prospector riding a horse and leading a couple of pack mules loaded down with mining gear.
"Well howdy strangers," the prospector greeted them.
"Hello old timer," Angel said with a big smile. "Are you headed for the gold rush in the Black Hills?"
"Sure am!" he said with a big smile. "Had a small claim back in Colorado, but it wasn't producin' much. So I sold it to stake myself for a trip up here."
"Well I hope you the best of luck," Roark said.
"Would you care to share a campfire tonight, and join me fer some vittles? I shot a couple prairie chickens earlier, and I still have a few cans of peaches in my pack," the old man asked eagerly.
Before looking at Roark to
see if he agreed Angel replied, "We'd love to!"
She was eager for a distraction. For the past couple days she could not get Diablo out of her mind. She wondered if he was still riding with the wagon train, or if he had moved on toward where ever he was headed? Did he ever think about her? She even wondered what had happened in his life to make him choose to become a gunslinger?
They all continued riding on for about another half hour until they found a good place to camp by a small pond and a few scattered trees.
Roark and the old prospector took care of unsaddling the horses and mules, brushed them down, and hobbled them out to graze. While Angel gathered dead branches from around the trees, and tied dried grass twist together to build a camp fire.
By the time the men had the prairie chickens ready to cook on a spit, she had the campfire ready.
"If'n you don't mind my asking, where are you two headed?" the prospector asked.
"We didn't want to miss out on all the excitement. So we figurin' on going to Deadwood for a while, see what trouble we can get into," Roark said with an ornery grin.
"Did ya pass the big wagon train headed this way?" the old man asked before he said, "I came upon them in mid-day, but continued on."
"Yes, we rode along with them for a couple days to help protect them from the Indians," Angel replied.
"Blackfeet! Them buggers stole my mules whilst sleepin'!"
"How many more mules did you have?" Angel asked.
"Just those two there yonder eating. They didn't touch my ol' mare. She don't take a likin' to injuns. She'll start to kickin'."
"I'm afraid I don't understand. How did they steal your mules when I see you still have them?" Angel asked curiously.
Laughing, the old prospector said, "Why I tracked them and stole them back whilst they were sleepin'! Then I hightailed it outta there. Lucky for me a rainstorm came through and washed my tracks away."
Angel listened in amazement while Roark asked, "How come they didn't just kill and scalp you before they took your mules?"
"There was about twenty of them, I figure they didn't see killing me was any kinda challenge. Whereas trying to sneak in and out with my mules was."
Laughing in amazement Roark replied, "I think you was damn lucky old timer."
The old man just grinned as he spit into the fire, then asked, "Did the wagon train get attacked?"
"No, we had a band of Crow warriors traveling along close by that agreed to help protect them for a couple days," Roark replied.
Now the old man looked amazed as he asked, "How in tarnation did they manage to get the Crow to agree to that?"
This time Angel chimed in with the answer, "There's a gunslinger that goes by the name of Diablo that was traveling with the wagon train. Apparently Two Bears, the Crow's chief, owed Diablo a favor."
"I know that old stubborn Chief Two Bears. He must of owed one hell of a favor to agree to help. And you say this Diablo is a gunslinger?"
"Yes, a pretty famous one at that," Roark replied.
"Never heard of 'em. But then again, I don't get to towns much often," the prospector replied.
"I'm figuring Deadwood is another thirty to forty miles from here. We best get some sleep so we can get a hot bath and sleep in a real bed tomorrow night," Angel suggested.
"I was thinking more along the lines of a strong drink and a beautiful dove," Roark said grinning.
The old prospector smiled, remembering the days when he thought the same thing. Now he just had the gold fever. It was like opium, once you’ve had it, you just couldn't live without it.
The next morning Angel and Roark woke to the smell of fried bacon and potatoes.
Smiling, Angel said, "I wished we had caught up to you sooner. Beats that hard tack we been gnawing on."
"I second that," Roark said with a yawn.
"Well come on and help yerselves before it gets cold."
They all ate in silence as if they were famished. When they finished and had their dishes washed up and packed away, they saddled up and headed on towards Deadwood.
Angel and Roark could have made better time if they went on ahead of the old prospector and his mules, but they were enjoying his company and a few more hours would not make any difference.
The sun was setting over the Black Hills when they reached the outskirts of Deadwood. As soon as they spotted a livery stable, they turned their horses in that direction. The hostler walked out of the stable just as they rode up.
"You got room fer us? Me and my pack mules will only being staying tonight, but I think my traveling companions will be stayin' longer," the old prospector asked the hostler.
"I got two stalls and that little corral open over there," the hostler replied.
The prospector looked at Roark and Angel as he said, "My old horse and mules are use to being together. I'll take the corral an’ you all take the stalls."
Roark nodded his head and said, "That's fine with us." Then he turned to the hostler and said, "We've come a long ways and will be staying for a good while. Please grain them daily. Here, this will get you started." Roark tossed the man a twenty dollar gold piece.
The prospector paid for his three head before they left the livery with their saddlebags and rifles in hand, and started walking towards the Grand Central Hotel.
Stepping into the hotel lobby the owner, Charles Wagner, greeted them, "Hello. My name is Charles Wagner. Welcome to my new establishment. We just opened last month."
"Congratulations Mr. Wagner. We need three rooms and three hot baths," Angel said with a beautiful smile.
"Why certainly. If you all will just sign the register here, I will get your hot baths ordered up to your rooms," the hotel owner said with a smile of his own as he handed them their room keys. "The cafe' opens at five. Aunt Lou makes some mean flapjacks, bacon, beans, and outstanding biscuits."
"Sounds good mister. After our baths, we'll have to try some of 'er good cookin'," the old prospector replied.
"I believe she has made fried chicken and dumplings for supper tonight," Charles Wagner offered.
"My mouth is already watering, let's get those baths boys!" Angel said, as she herded them towards their rooms.
They all agreed to meet in the hotel's cafe' after their baths. When Angel walked into the cafe', Roark and the old prospector were already seated at a table waiting for her.
"It's about time you got here. We's about to wither up and die with no food in our bellies," Roark said jokingly.
"After all the bacon and taters you ate this morning!" Angel replied laughing.
Once seated, the Negro cook came to take their order. "Welcome to the Grand Central Cafe'. My name is Lucretia Marchbanks, but everyone just calls me 'Aunt Lou'. Would you nice folks like some fried chicken and dumplings? I've also got a couple apple pies about to come out of the oven."
"Yes please. Mr. Wagner already told us about how great your cooking is, and my mouth has been watering ever since," Angel answered for all of them with a kind smile before Aunt Lou walked away to prepare their plates.
"From the looks of things, the town must not have any law here yet," Angel commented.
"I already asked, and they don't. So you're going to have to be extra careful when I'm not around," Roark replied.
"I can take care of myself big brother, but it will be nice when Wild Bill and Calamity Jane get here with the wagon train."
"I hear the town is getting ready for a big 4th of July celebration. Aren't you going to stay for it?" Angel asked the old prospector.
"Naw, the only celebratin' I want to do is after I hit a big gold strike. After travelin' this far, I'm eager to find me a claim and get to diggin'. I'll be headed out first thing in the mornin' after I restock my packs."
"Well, we wish you the best of luck old timer," Roark replied.
The old prospector never offered his name, and Roark and Angel never asked. Many people came West to escape their past and start over. Whoever the old man was in the past didn't matter.
He was just a prospector now who had been bit by the yellow fever.
"I'm headed to bed. Roark, I assume you're headed to the saloon?" Angel asked.
"No, I think I'm going to head to bed myself. I think I ate too much," Roark said as he rubbed his belly.
Laughing, the old prospector said, "You think maybe you should of stopped at two pieces of apple pie, instead of eating that third one?"
They all laughed then as they stood up from the table to leave. Roark had already paid for all their meals when he finished his third piece of pie.
When they reached the doors to their rooms in the hotel, they said their good-byes to the old prospector and wished him luck.
In her room, Angel stood at her window for a few minutes watching the rowdy drunks below in front of the Nuttal & Mann's saloon. Without any law in town, people just did what they wanted. With the discovery of gold all around these parts, people were flocking in from everywhere. And it will probably get worse, before it gets better.
Angel was just about to turn away from the window when she spotted a man walking into the saloon. It looked like Diablo!
She tossed and turned all night thinking about him. Why did he have to come here? Maybe it wasn't him she saw through the window. Maybe she was getting all worked up for nothing. And why should she get worked up over him to begin with? But she knew why . . . his warm embrace and that kiss!
Chapter 4
Angel woke the next morning to loud hammering outside as men were hanging 4th of July streamers and banners on the outside of the buildings. The celebration was in two days.
It had taken till the early hours before Angel was able to fall sound asleep. Each time she would start to fall asleep, she would start dreaming about Diablo. The dreams would always wake her back up, as each time Diablo was shot dead in the dreams.
Quickly getting out of bed, Angel decided to get busy on their new job assignment. Hoping it would keep her too busy to have time to think any more about Diablo.
When Angel walked into the hotel's cafe', Roark was already sitting at a table eating breakfast Aunt Lou had cooked for him. He smiled with a mouthful of food as he saw her walk in his direction.