The Angel's Devil (Savage Series)

by Lisa Rae

  “But how did you make yourself sick at the exact right times?” Angel asked in curiosity.

  “The first time I just stuck a finger down my throat and gagged myself when no one was looking. That second time was thanks to that marshal’s quick thinking. He told me to go see the doc for a bottle of ipecac. I took a swig as soon as I saw you all comin’, but I was about to think it wasn’t going to work fast enough when Wolfe started accusing me of not having been here all night,” replied Diablo.

  “That’s a smart trick he told you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s used it many times in the past with as much undercover work as he’s done,” commented Angel.

  “This evening it shouldn’t be hard to talk the gang into riding into town for a few beers. Then Angel or I will slip off to talk to him and figure out how we are going to take Wolfe and his gang down,” Roark said.

  Done discussing the matter, the three of them took a nap to catch up on the sleep they missed the night before.

  When they woke up hours later, some of the gang was already milling around camp and talking about going to town to get drunk . . .

  * * *

  “I was just in town yesterday and got the latest news going around. I really don’t think there will be anything new to learn today,” Howard Brook said nervously. Now that he suspected his brother of being involved in the Treasure Coach robberies, he was having a hard time staying calm.

  “Amuse me and do it anyway,” Wolfe snapped at his half-brother. He was in a foul mood. Someone stopped the gold stage from running last night and he wanted to know why?

  “Alright, I’ll go,” Brook said.

  * * *

  Stopping at John McKnight’s office, Brook went in to see his closest friend first. “Afternoon John.”

  “Is something wrong? I didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” McKnight asked a bit worried.

  “Oh my brother is in a foul mood. Something must of not went as planned during the robbery. He insisted I come to town to get the most recent gossip,” Brook replied.

  “I bet he is in a bad mood,” McKnight commented. “A U.S. Marshal came to town yesterday and put a hold on anymore gold stages going to Cheyenne until the Treasure Coach Gang is caught.” McKnight was about to tell his good friend that Diablo was involved somehow too, but decided it was time to keep his big mouth shut. The more Howard knew of what was really going on, the more danger he could end up in from his half-brother.

  “Well that explains why he was so anxious for me to come to town,” Brook said.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, the marshal wants to talk to you too,” McKnight commented.

  “Me? What does he want to talk to me for?” Brook asked worriedly.

  “Don’t go getting your long-handles in a twist. He says he wants to talk to all the big gold producing mine owners. I saw him walk into the café right before you got here. Why don’t you go see him now and get it over with so you don’t worry about it,” McKnight suggested.

  “That’s probably a good idea. Alright, I’ll talk to you later my friend,” Brook said.

  Brook didn’t think to ask his friend what the marshal looked like. When he walked into the café, he scanned the room and would never have guessed the right man had it not been for the badge the man was wearing. He had long black hair tied back in a ponytail. His six-gun tied low, he sat with his back to the wall at a corner table. He looked to be a half-breed, and Brook would have assumed him to be an outlaw, had it not been for the star on his chest.

  Brook walked over to the marshal’s table and said, “Good afternoon marshal, my name is Howard Brook. McKnight told me you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes I do, would you join me in a cup of coffee and a slice of apple pie?” the marshal asked.

  Brook sat down across from the marshal, and after Aunt Lou brought him his coffee and pie the marshal asked an unexpected question, “I understand you are the one responsible for supplying beef to this town?”

  “Yes, with the Indians being hostile towards anyone hunting on their land and so many people moving here for the gold rush, I thought it would be a good profitable business that would help everyone else out too,” Brook answered.

  “Sounds like you’re a very smart business man,” the marshal commented. “So tell me, how did you not know all this time that your half-brother was involved in the Treasure Coach Gang? You have been hauling that gold back to town and reselling it.”

  Brook started to get a little nervous. Did the marshal think he knew about his half-brother the whole time or that he himself was involved? “Honest marshal, I didn’t have a clue to begin with until I realized that the robberies were only happening after times I would tell my brother about the scheduled delivery.” Then the last thing the marshal had said registered in his head and he said, “You mean to tell me the gold I’ve been bringing to town for him didn’t come from his gold mine? I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

  “Haven’t you been inside your brother’s mine?” the marshal asked.

  “No, I’ve only ever rode out there once and no one was there,” Brook replied.

  “The mine is a fake. There is no vein of gold in it. He only dug it as a cover to be able to resale the gold he’s been stealing from the coaches.”

  “Oh dear!” Brook said. “That means I’ve been selling stolen gold all this time. Guess you need to arrest me?”

  “I could arrest you, but since you didn’t know and you turned him in as soon as you figured it out, I’m willing to work a deal with you,” the marshal replied. “Once they’re arrested, I want you to testify against your brother and tell everything that happened that you was involved in and knew about.”

  “Gladly marshal, I don’t want to go to jail,” Brook agreed.

  “Good, now go back home and act like everything is normal,” the marshal said.

  * * *

  “I think it be best if you two stay here in camp this evening. We don’t need Wolfe or his lackey Jed to get suspicious. I’ll go to town with the rest of the gang and slip off to see the marshal to figure out how we are going to move in on them,” Roark said.

  “Yea, you’re right. Wolfe is already suspicious of Diablo, and he’s always been suspicious of me,” Angel replied.

  Diablo nodded his head in agreement. Not only was his stomach still sore from throwing up, but he wanted some alone time with Angel.

  Roark rode out for Deadwood with the rest of the gang. Arriving in front of the Nuttal & Mann’s Saloon, Roark told a couple members of the gang, “I’ll be in shortly. I’m going to run over to Boland’s Mercantile to buy a couple cigars.” Roark didn’t regularly smoke, but buying an occasional cigar worked good as a cover when he needed to slip away.

  The U.S. Marshal, which had come into town yesterday, had been watching the gang ride into town and go into the saloon. When he recognized Roark in the bunch, he headed for the mercantile store knowing that given the chance Roark would come there in hopes of meeting him.

  The marshal stood in the back of the mercantile looking at some Stetson hats when Roark walked in casually and spotted him, he walked back that way himself to pretend to look around.

  Talking in a whisper Roark asked, “Have you called in help so we can take them all down at once?”

  “Yes, there are cavalry troops nearby. You may not have heard . . . Back on June 25th they encountered a large Indian village on the west banks of the Little Bighorn. The troops were seriously beaten and they lost almost 270 men, including Custer. They will be here camped outside of town tomorrow evening. I’ve already scouted the gang’s mining camp and will have you surrounded by the following morning.”

  “Sounds good. I imagine Wolfe, the gang leader, has probably learned by now that you have stopped the gold shipments and may decide to relocate,” Roark said.

  “So who is this Wolfe character? Is he wanted for anything else?” the marshal asked.

  “It’s Christopher Wolfe, the man who killed Angel’s husband and her unborn child,”
Roark replied.

  Shocked the marshal then asked, “How is Angel holding up? This has got to be the hardest job she’s every done. If I was her I would have already killed the bastard!”

  “As you know yourself, revenge gives you strong determination. She’s handling it like all us Savages do, with nerves of steel. Wolfe is also the one responsible for the counterfeit gold that Angel has been trying to track for some time now,” Roark commented.

  “How did you get El Diablo to side up and help us?” the marshal asked.

  “We ran into him on the way here from Cheyenne. He took an instant liking to Angel and her to him, though she still won’t even admit it to herself. First I didn’t know who he was and tried to keep her away from him. Now I think she is trying to keep her distance from him because she’s realizing she has feelings for him and doesn’t want to compromise our mission,” Roark explained.

  The two U.S. Marshals finished their conversation. Roark bought his cigars and walked back to the saloon. Walking through the batwing doors of the saloon, out of habit Roark stepped to the side to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. He spotted Calamity Jane and Wild Bill sitting at a table with some other people telling some tall tales he suspected. Most of the gang was up at the mahogany bar downing shots of whiskey. Then Roark saw what he was in the mood for . . . a red headed dove was walking down the stairs.

  Chapter 13

  With the rest of the gang gone to town, Angel and Diablo spent a quiet evening at camp alone. Diablo noticed that Angel was extremely withdrawn and distant during their supper. Knowing something was bothering her, he walked up to her, taking her hands in his and asked, “Angel, what’s wrong? I know you want to keep our personal feelings on hold till you get this gang arrested, but my gut tells me something is seriously bothering you.”

  “I need you to do something for me,” Angel said.

  Unsure of what she was going to ask of him he said, “You know I’d do anything for you if I can.”

  Taking a deep breath angel said, “Wolfe is the outlaw that killed my husband and almost killed me. If things get hairy when we take down this bunch and Wolfe somehow takes me hostage again, I want you to promise me you will not throw down your gun to save me,” Angel said pleadingly.

  Shocked Diablo said, “Angel, I can’t─”

  “Promise me!” Angel pleaded again.

  Trying a different approach Diablo asked, “Tell me why?”

  Tears welled up in Angel’s eyes. “I’d rather die than lose anyone else I love,” she said sadly.

  “Oh Angel, you’re not going to lose me.” Diablo took her into his arms and comforted her. His heart was soaring at her declaration of love for him.

  Pulling back so she could look up into his eyes she again said, “I still need you to promise me. I know Wolfe, and he won’t hesitate to use me to kill you when he finds out what side you are on. So if it happens again, I want you to shoot him . . . even if it means him shooting me.”

  “No Angel, I can’t take the risk of him shooting you too. I’d rather he kill me than you,” Diablo replied.

  “You don’t understand, after he kills you he will kill me too.” Angel was crying now. “After he shot and killed my husband, he pushed me off a balcony trying to kill me.”

  “But you didn’t die!” Diablo said.

  “Part of me did . . . I was pregnant. The fall caused me to have a miscarriage,” Angel replied sadly as tears ran down her face.

  Diablo’s heart was hurting for her. He had no idea she had lost a child too. “Oh Angel, I am so sorry,” he said as he hugged her tight. Encouragingly he said, “It will be okay. We will both make it through this.” But in his own thoughts he prayed hard for their safety.

  “How do you know it will be okay?” Angel asked.

  “I just do. When this is all over we’ll get married and I want you to stay at home and take care of our kids. No more dangerous undercover work.”

  Smiling a little finally she asked, “Diablo, is that your idea of a marriage proposal?”

  Grinning back at her he said, “Yea, I guess it is!”

  Not waiting for anymore objections, Diablo leaned down and kissed her long and hard, savoring the taste of her lips. Still feeling the raw emotions from their conversation, Angel deepened the kiss till their tongues were fighting a battle of their own. She let her fear transform into passion and before either one realized it, they were back in their shack and had each other’s clothes and gun belts lying on the floor. This time it would not be a gentle exploration of their bodies, but a savage hunger built from the fear that they could be killed in the next day or so . . .

  * * *

  When Brook returned back to his ranch house where his half-brother waited for him, he nervously went inside to tell him the news. He found Wolfe in the library, but instead of him sitting and reading like he normally did, he was pacing the floor.

  “Well, is anything new going on in town?” Wolfe asked anxiously.

  Trying to hide his nervousness, Brook excitedly said, “Yes! There’s a U.S. Marshal in town, and he put a stop to the gold stages running to Cheyenne until the Treasure Coach Gang is caught.”

  “What!” Wolfe roared. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes I’m sure.” Then acting dumb he asked, “Why, is something wrong?”

  Quick to cover his tracks Wolfe said, “No, nothing is wrong.” It was clear to see that his mind was churning thoughts over in his head of what to do next?

  Brook excused himself and went to his room, leaving Wolfe to ponder his thoughts alone.

  Wolfe had already been drinking from a whiskey bottle he had sitting on the desk. Now he picked it up and took a long guzzle. What was he going to do now? Even if the marshal doesn’t know he’s involved, he still can’t get anymore gold if they won’t ship anymore. Wolfe finished the bottle before stumbling up the stairs to bed.

  The next morning he woke up with a tremendous headache. Thinking he must be getting old because he never used to have hangovers like this.

  After eating a late breakfast, Wolfe rode out to his mining camp to find his gang just as hung-over as he was. “Jed, how many pack mules would it take to haul all of the gold out of here at once?”

  A bit alarmed Jed replied, “Oh I reckon it take about a dozen.”

  “Here, take this money and a few men and quietly purchase them and pack-saddles today,” Wolfe ordered. “We are loading up and leaving out tomorrow.”

  “Why and where are we going?” Jed asked curiously.

  “There’s a U.S. Marshal in town who stopped all future gold stages until we are caught, so we’re headed West to the Musselshell in the Montana Territory to lay low for a while,” Wolfe explained.

  “Why are we taking all the gold if we’re just going to lay low for a while? It’s awful risky taking that much with us,” Jed asked.

  “Because I’m not taking a chance of someone coming in here and taking it, it’s mine!” Wolfe growled. He was unable to use common sense as greed consumed him. “Have the men and the gold ready to leave tomorrow!” Spinning his horse in a half-circle, he spurred him, and headed back to his home with his half-brother.

  Turning to the men Jed asked, “You heard him. Who wants to volunteer to go get some pack mules?” Half the men volunteered. They saddled up, and left in search to find strong mules that could carry the heavy gold a long distance. “Now I need a couple men to weigh out the gold in 100 pound piles, so it’s ready to load,” Jed said searching the remaining faces as a couple more eagerly volunteered. Figuring they would pocket a little gold as a bonus in their pay.

  When Roark had returned to camp last night, he told Angel and Diablo the plans of the marshal having them surrounded with the cavalry when they wake up in a couple days. Now learning that Wolfe was wasting no time in making a run for it, they were glad that the cavalry could make it on such short notice.

  Roark handed both Angel and Diablo a red bandana and said, “Make sure to put this on tomorrow morn
ing so the cavalry can spot you.” They took the bandanas and stuffed them into their pockets out of sight for now.

  The three of them spent the rest of the day pretending to be getting ready to head out the next morning. They checked the girth and billets on their saddles, cleaned and reloaded their pistols and rifles, and hobbled the horses out to graze to fill their bellies for the long journey. While all along they were casing the area to figure out what the best advantage points were to shoot from for both them and the cavalry.

  When dark came the whole gang went to bed early to get plenty of sleep for the long day ahead. Only Diablo had other plans . . . He snuck out in the middle of the night to hide some of the dynamite, which he had stashed away in his saddlebags, around the mine entrance. This way he could shoot the dynamite to make it explode at the exact moment he wanted without having to be near the mine.

  When he slipped back into the shack he shared with Angel and Roark, Angel whispered, “What have you been up to? You didn’t come from the direction of the outhouses.”

  “Just setting up a surprise of my own. Stay clear of the mine tomorrow. As soon as the first shot is fired, I’m blowing up the entrance to bury the gold,” Diablo answered.

  With a little laugh Angel said, “I hope I get to see the look on Wolfe’s face when you do!”

  “Ya, he’s going to be madder than a hornet,” Roark laughed after cutting into their conversation.

  “Well let’s get back to sleep. It may be a long day tomorrow,” Angel commented.

  The next morning everyone was up early saddling their horses and the pack horses. They rolled up their bedrolls, securing them and their dusters onto the back of their saddles. They had just finished up when Angel said, “I’ve got to go visit the outhouse. I’ll take my horse with me just in case Wolfe shows up and the attack starts before I can get back over here.”

  Angel took the reins of her gelding and led it across the compound to the outhouses out back behind the shacks and tied him to a tree. Expecting Wolfe to come from the direction of the ranch house, Angel didn’t notice him in the trees close by watching her.