ANGEL - JOHANNA LINDSEY

by asdf

  “R. J. jumped to the wrong conclusion, though, and went off and got drunk, so drunk he came back that night and took me and Ned to the church, where he forced us to marry. He had some crazy idea about making me a wife and a widow in one day, only he passed out before he got around to the widow-making part. And Ned wasn’t exactly as honest as the day is long. He didn’t mind marrying me at all, not when it promoted him from foreman to boss, giving him a share of the profits from the ranch. He wouldn’t give me a divorce even though he knew I didn’t love him and never would.

  “It didn’t end there. R. J. stayed drunk for a couple of months, and he started taking potshots at Ned whenever he saw him. ‘Course drunk, he can’t even hit the side of a barn. But Ned got annoyed enough to start shooting back. He was a bit luckier and hit R. J. once.”

  “You call shootin‘ me in my foot lucky?” R. J. interjected.

  Dorothy ignored that, continuing. “That’s when R. J. started sobering up and got serious about killing my husband. Ned figured since I didn’t want him around anyway, it’d be healthier if he took off. Only he got my pa all fired up before he left, enough for him to file charges against R. J. But all that did was embarrass R. J. and turn him meaner.

  “That’s when he married my best friend, thinking that would hurt me. I’ll admit it did, particularly when she got pregnant so fast. I had a husband I couldn’t get a divorce from, and R. J. was starting a family. I started hating him then.

  “And Ned, he only came home when he ran short of money. But he never stayed long because as soon as R. J. found out he was back, the damn shooting would start up again.”

  “I know Pa was never around,” Jenny said, speaking quietly now. “But how come you never told us he was such a bastard?”

  “Because I had reason to be grateful to him, Jen. He didn’t come around often, but each time he did, he left me with a baby. And the ranch and you children were all I had to live for. Besides, he never would have got so greedy if R. J. hadn’t shoved temptation his way. Ned was a hard worker and a good foreman before that.”

  A heavy silence followed. R. J. was the one to break it. “Christ, that ain’t the way I remember it, Dotty.”

  She turned around to give him a level look. “I’m not surprised. You were never sober long enough back then to remember much of anything.”

  “If that’s the way it happened, I think maybe I owe you an apology.”

  She wasn’t impressed. “Is that right?”

  He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Do you—ah—suppose we might put all that behind us and start over?”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “I didn’t think so.”

  “But you can take me to town tomorrow night for dinner and we can discuss it.”

  Frazer couldn’t let that one pass. His laughter started up again. R. J. took off one of his boots and threw it at his eldest.

  Dorothy remarked, “That’s a strange one you got there, R. J.”

  “I know it,” R. J. grumbled. “Dumb shit would laugh at his own funeral. Come on, Dotty, and I’ll escort you home like I used to—that is—” He turned to Cassie. “You got any more conversation to force on us, little girl?”

  Cassie was grinning. She couldn’t help it. “No, sir. I don’t believe there’s anything left for me to meddle with in these parts.”

  Angel had already opened the door and was standing to the side of it. The chill night air that rushed in wasn’t conducive to lingering. R. J. led the way, minus his boot, but stopped next to Angel to give him an appraising look.

  “I think you and me can call it even,” R. J. said.

  “Looks to me like you came out ahead,” Angel replied.

  R. J. grinned. “Guess I did at that. But satisfy my curiosity, son. How come they call you the Angel of Death?”

  “Probably because no one has ever survived a fight with me.”

  R. J. found that amusing and left chuckling. His sons didn’t, and gave Angel a wide berth as they exited. Jenny stopped by Cassie to give her a hug.

  “I can’t believe this really happened, but thank you,” Jenny said.

  “You know what they say about love and hate. Half the time you can’t tell them apart.”

  “I know, but Ma and R. J.?”

  Both girls grinned. “Take care of yourself, Jenny, and your new family.”

  “I will. And now that everything’s changed, you don’t have to leave.”

  “Actually, with my mama showing up, I do. You can’t imagine how unpleasant it can get with her and my papa living in the same house.”

  “But you’ve got a pocket full of miracles tonight. Why don’t you pull another one out?”

  “I wish I could, but I just don’t have the nerve to meddle in my parents’ problems.”

  “Well, you take care of yourself, and write me.”

  “I will.”

  Jenny ran to Clayton, who was waiting for her at the barn entrance. They left arm in arm. Cassie sighed, thinking about what she still had ahead of her. She looked around to find her mama just getting up from a bale of hay. Her papa was leaning against Marabelle’s transport cage, but he pushed himself away from it and came toward her now.

  “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one with dirt in the closet,” Catherine remarked snidely as she started toward Cassie, too.

  “Your mama has no sense of compassion, and you can tell her I said so,” Charles said.

  Cassie did no such thing. All she wanted to do was escape to savor her triumph for a while before she had to placate her mama’s formidable temper. With that in mind, she didn’t wait for her parents, but hurried toward Angel.

  “Thank you—” she began, but he cut her off.

  “You’re not finished yet.”

  “I’m not?”

  “No,” he said, and moved to block the entrance just as her parents got there. “You called a cease-fire on your private war twenty years ago,” Angel told them. “Maybe you should’ve fought it out. Would you like to remain in here a little longer?”

  “Hell, no,” Catherine replied.

  “Yes,” Charles said, drawing a shocked gasp from his wife and a grin from Angel before he shoved Cassie out the door and shut it behind them.

  Of course, Catherine immediately started shouting and banging on the door. Cassie stared at Angel in horror as he dropped the wooden bar into place, locking them in.

  “You can’t do that,” she said.

  “I just did.”

  “But—”

  “Shut up, Cassie. There’s something about being locked up that brings out the worst—and best—in folks. Let your parents experience it. It could do them a world of good.”

  “Or they could kill each other.”

  He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “Where’s that optimism that lets you meddle in everyone’s life?”

  She didn’t get to answer. He kissed her, long and hard, and she was so bemused when he finished, she didn’t even notice that the shouting inside the barn had stopped.

  “Go on up to the house, honey.” Angel pushed her in that direction. “You can let ‘em out in the morning.”

  She went, but only because she expected him to follow. He didn’t. He rode out of her life that night.

  Chapter 27

  Cassie didn’t leave Texas the next day as she’d planned. She’d spent the night in a parlor chair, where she’d fallen asleep waiting for Angel to join her. When she woke up with sunshine pouring in through the windows, she first went up to his room. There she found the bed unslept in, his saddlebags missing from the corner where they’d been stacked, and nothing else in the room to say he’d ever been there.

  She rushed out to the stable next, but she’d found what she expected to by then. His horse was gone. He was gone. And Cassie sat down and cried.

  When she got around to wiping her eyes dry, she decided she wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask Angel to stay even if she’d gotten the chance to. Rejection was a horrible thing, after all
. She ought to consider herself lucky that she’d avoided it. So why didn’t that make her feel better?

  She was dragging her feet by the time she reached the barn, though she didn’t particularly care what kind of temper her mother was going to be in. She just didn’t want to have to talk about Angel again, not now. And she got a short reprieve, but only because her parents were still sleeping—side by side on a bed of hay.

  Cassie didn’t think anything of their proximity. She just left them there with the doors unlocked and went back to the house. But by the time she’d bathed and changed into fresh clothes, her mother was knocking on her door.

  “That was a rotten thing to do to your mama, Cassie,” were Catherine’s first words.

  “I know,” Cassie replied dispassionately, and dropped into her reading chair. “I should have locked me and Angel in the barn instead.”

  “Oh, no. Your papa has the right idea. You’re not going to be left alone with that man again.”

  “You don’t have to worry about it,” Cassie said in a quiet voice, raising her knees to rest her chin on. “He’s already left.”

  “Good.”

  “Why ‘good’? You don’t even know him, Mama.”

  “Of course I do,” Catherine replied. “Who in Wyoming doesn’t know him?”

  “You’re talking about his reputation. You don’t know what he’s really like.”

  “And I don’t intend to find out. Your papa told me what happened. I just—”

  Cassie looked up in surprise. “You and Papa talked to each other?”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Catherine replied sternly. “I just have one question for you. Why on earth did you tell those people he was your fiancé?”

  “Because he was about to tell them who he really was, and tempers were too high at the time. I was afraid they’d get the wrong idea, and think I hired him to fight them.”

  “Which is what you should have done. That’s what he does, after all.”

  “Mama, I started the whole thing,” Cassie said in exasperation.

  “And from what I heard last night, you patched it up nicely. Well, never mind about why you ended up getting married. It’ll be an easy enough thing to dissolve, and we’ll take care of that before we leave Texas.”

  “No.”

  Catherine came to stand before her daughter. “What do you mean no?”

  Cassie dropped her head back on her knees. “I promised Angel I’d wait until I got back home—in case there’s a baby to consider.”

  “A—oh, God, why do I suddenly feel like that poor woman from last night—what was her name? Dotty?”

  “Dorothy Catlin,” Cassie said. “But it’s only a possibility, Mama.”

  “Only?” Catherine bent over until their heads were touching and she could get her arms around Cassie, knees and all. “My poor baby. You’re so brave not to cry about it. And why didn’t your papa mention that part—or doesn’t he know that the man raped you?”

  Cassie pushed herself back to say indignantly, “Mama, he did no such thing.”

  “He didn’t?” Catherine said in confusion, then quickly changed her tone. “Well, why the hell not?”

  “Obviously because he didn’t have to.”

  Catherine digested that, as well as the dryness it was uttered in, and admonished, “Cassandra Stuart, don’t you dare sit there and tell me—”

  “Mama, it’s too late for a lecture, don’t you think?”

  Catherine was forced to concede that point. “I suppose it is.” Then she sighed. “Oh, baby, what possessed you to make such a fool mistake?”

  “He wanted me,” Cassie said simply. “And that’s all that mattered to me at the time—well, there was the little fact that I wanted him, too.”

  “I don’t think I want to hear this.”

  “I’d rather not talk about it myself,” Cassie said dismally. “I can’t even figure out why he wanted me.”

  Catherine took exception to that. “Nonsense. You’re a beautiful girl. Why wouldn’t he want you?”

  Cassie waved a dismissive hand. “You’re my mama. Of course you’d say that. But I’m well aware that men don’t find me very attractive.”

  Catherine grinned. “And that bothers you?”

  “It’s not amusing, Mama.”

  “Actually, it is, because when I was your age I thought the exact same thing. I didn’t have a single suitor, even though there was no end of eligible young men in my town. Then suddenly I had, not one, but three suitors who were so serious in their efforts to win me that it became embarrassing. I couldn’t go anywhere that one or two of them didn’t show up, sometimes all three.

  “There was a lot of bickering and jealousy, even though these men happened to be lifelong friends. It finally escalated into an actual fight, with one of them taking on the other two—at the same time. He just barely won, but I thought it was so romantic, I accepted his proposal that very day. That was your papa.”

  “That’s hardly the same thing as my case, Mama. You happen to be a beautiful woman.”

  “And you still think you aren’t? Well, let me tell you a secret, baby, a confession your papa once made to me. He said that I grew on him, that one day he noticed that I was prettier than he’d thought. You see, we’d known each other for years, and he’d never paid any attention to me before then. He also said that every time he saw me after that, I kept getting prettier, until finally he thought I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.”

  “Are you pulling my leg, Mama?”

  “I wouldn’t do that. I’m trying to tell you that your looks are just unusual and take a bit of time getting used to, same as mine used to be. As I got older, my features filled out and sort of settled into more traditional lines. I expect yours will, too, and it won’t be much longer before men find you lovely when they first meet you, not weeks later.”

  Cassie couldn’t help laughing. “That’s a nice story, Mama, but I’m not buying.”

  “No? Well, I reckon that gunfighter was around you long enough for you to start looking mighty pretty to him. You can’t figure out why he wanted you? My guess is the man couldn’t help himself.”

  Cassie blushed at that, but only because she so wished it were true. Of course it wasn’t, and it didn’t matter now anyway.

  She said as much. “It doesn’t matter now. He’s gone and he expects me to divorce him.”

  “And we certainly won’t disappoint him,” Catherine said firmly.

  It was obvious her mama didn’t like Angel, but that last crack rubbed Cassie wrong. She wanted a change of subject, and knew exactly how to get it.

  “So what did you and Papa find to talk about after twenty years?”

  “None of your business,” Catherine replied and left before Cassie could probe further.

  Chapter 28

  Cassie never did find out what happened between her parents in the barn that night— or if anything did happen. Her mama simply wouldn’t talk about it. Her papa just teased her, saying they’d stopped acting like children, whatever that meant. But they did seem to have a truce of some sort going on. At least they continued to talk to each other. Nothing of a personal nature, at least not that Cassie heard, but it was communication: cautious, hesitant, as if they’d just met each other for the first time, but definite communication.

  Catherine even insisted on holding off her and Cassie’s departure until after the holidays, so for the first time in ten years, Cassie got to spend Christmas with both of her parents. And she got to see Jenny once more at church services. Jenny had already moved in with her husband—R.J. had gotten his way in that—and she claimed the MacKauley men were treating her like a queen. It had been quite a few years since a woman had ruled the roost in that household, so things promised to be interesting there for a while.

  Of course, R. J. and Dorothy were presently the talk of the town. Mabel Koch stopped by to tell Cassie, in case she hadn’t heard, about their being seen having dinner together, and that they’d
stayed so late, they hadn’t gone home that night. They’d taken two rooms at the hotel, but Mabel insinuated only one had been needed.

  Catherine had laughed for a half hour after hearing that. With all Cassie had been through, she hadn’t found it so funny herself. But ironically, the neighbors weren’t mad at her anymore. R. J. even sent by a brief note. “Feel free to meddle in my town anytime.” Cassie didn’t find that funny, either. The fact was, she wasn’t finding humor in much of anything these days.

  She missed Angel.

  When Catherine caught her seriously moping about it, she decided they’d go on a shopping spree back east before returning home, maybe all the way to New York this time.

  “Let’s make it St. Louis instead,” Cassie impulsively suggested.

  “Whatever you like, baby. And we can see a lawyer about filing for that divorce while we’re there. No point in letting all of Wyoming know about it if we don’t have to.”

  Cassie said nothing to that, but she’d felt like asking, “If you’re so divorce-happy, how come you never got one for yourself?” But that wouldn’t have been very nice—sometimes she wished she weren’t so nice. A little mean streak could come in handy when dealing with certain overbearing people.

  Her mama meant well, of course; she just had a longtime habit of overprotectiveness and making Cassie’s decisions for her. Cassie had never protested because Catherine was happiest when she was controlling things. But it was time Cassie started making a few decisions on her own. Going to St. Louis was one, even if it was spur-of-the-moment.

  Sending off a telegram was another, and something she didn’t bother to mention to her mama. But she’d had Angel on her mind so much, the idea had just sprung up and wouldn’t go away. So she sent off a request to have a Pinkerton detective meet her in St. Louis to find out what, if anything, could be done to locate Angel’s parents. She didn’t think he’d ever try again himself, after all, and it was just the sort of thing that appealed to her meddling nature, the reuniting of a long-lost family.