Angel Gone Bad

by Sabine Starr

  “Let’s see how much I can take off these guys tonight,” Angel said.

  “Not letting a woman pay my way.” Baines frowned at her.

  “As her devoted servant, I’m happy to let Miss Angel pay for me.” Lucky jingled the chain on his wrist as he looked at her.

  Angel smiled. “I owe you anyway for that lovely gift you gave me.”

  “You like it now?”

  “Yes. I didn’t realize it at the time, but you were right. It is mine.”

  “What the hell are you two talking about?” Baines hit the table with his fist. “We’ve got important business to conduct.”

  “You’re right,” Rune quickly agreed. “Forget the Choctaw gold. Let Angel win tonight. Tomorrow we ride for Horsethief Spring.”

  “You try to take control one more time,” Baines hissed, “and you’ll wish you’d stayed in college. I already wish I’d left you there.”

  Rune leaned back in his chair. “No problem.”

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Baines said. “Play cards tonight. Tomorrow we head for Tushka Homma. Once we get the gold, we light out for Horsethief Spring.”

  “Are you sure?” Rune asked.

  “You in this gang or out of it?” Baines frowned. “Your choice.”

  Rune nodded, but didn’t say anything. He’d done his best. Some men were too stupid to stay free.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Angel had a headache. And she was beginning to lose. She’d played poker most of the night. She’d stretched her senses to the breaking point and she needed to back off. Yet she wanted to win enough money to save the Choctaw gold shipment and get a lead on Tate Thornton.

  She was finally down to the last table in the saloon. She was losing ground, so she had to stop soon. A few more rounds, a few more questions, and then she was packing it in and riding out at dawn.

  She sat with her back to the fireplace. Dry kindling, old newspapers, and logs were stacked nearby, ready for cooking beans or warming the room in winter. She could hear wind whistle down the chimney. A lantern on the mantelpiece cast soft light over the poker table.

  When she picked up her new hand, she sensed almost nothing except a dull heaviness. She felt alarmed at this lack of connection, but she couldn’t stop, not while she still had her wits about her.

  “Heard those Badgers had a new guy riding with them. Some long-drink-of-water Texan.” She hoped she sounded casual.

  The outlaw across from her glanced up. He elbowed the guy next to him. “Sin to Crockett. Think she means that poor sucker they had on a leash up Horsethief Spring way?”

  “Sounds like him.”

  “Leash?”

  “He must’a riled ’em bad. They’d buckled a collar around his neck and tied a rope to it so they could pull him behind their horses. ”

  “But why?” She traded one card for a worse one.

  “No tellin’. Cheated at cards. Stole a horse, or mayhap a woman. Knifed a brother. Somethin’ badder than bad.”

  “Savagerous,” one of the other players agreed.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Why not settle their hash and be done with it?”

  “Just shoot the man?” She tried to keep a poker face as the excitement of finally getting information battled with the horror of hearing what could be Tate’s condition. Yet if this was Verity’s fianc é, he might still be alive.

  “Torture.” The outlaw tossed down his hand in disgust. “That takes a powerful lot of hate.”

  “How long ago did you see him?”

  “Two or three weeks.”

  Angel carefully set down her cards, willing her hand not to shake with fury and disgust. What could make an outlaw gang seek such revenge? A Deputy U.S. Marshal would sure fit the bill.

  She desperately wanted to leap up, race to Horsethief Spring, and rescue Tate, or whoever was in such bad trouble. But it’d take time and finesse. She only hoped that the man, and she had a strong feeling he was Tate, would still be alive when she got there.

  She glanced over at Rune. When she had his attention, she nodded toward the open doorway to let him know she was ready to leave. She could see the gray light of dawn outside. If Baines would agree, she could give the gang her winnings and they could go straight to Horsethief Spring.

  As she watched the dawn, two men barreled through the open doorway, six-shooters drawn, and landed in the saloon. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She blinked to make sure her vision wasn’t deceiving her.

  “We’re AHTA!” Eagle Road hollered.

  “Don’t draw,” De Luca called out.

  Every horse thief in the place, and that was most everybody, leaped to his feet, slapped leather, and threw down.

  Angel shoved her winnings in her reticule and tied it around her wrist as she dropped under the table. She didn’t bother to draw her derringer. It’d be no match against AHTA or outlaw firepower. As the room filled with gun smoke and blasts of gunfire, she wanted nothing more than to get Rune and get out.

  She looked for Rune, but couldn’t see him. Outlaws were tossing tables on their sides and ducking for cover as they continued to fire. She couldn’t get to the doorway without being hit, but she might break the window and leap out. As she tried to decide what to do from under the table, she saw De Luca drop and Eagle Road follow him to the floor. They were bleeding, but still fighting. While one fired, the other reloaded. But it was just a matter of time before they were dead.

  That wasn’t right. She’d talked to them. They’d been polite. Even if they were after Rune, they were on the right side of the law. But how could she help them? Time was quickly running out.

  She glanced around, but it was getting harder to see through the smoke. She noticed the firewood. She looked up at the mantle and saw the lantern. She jumped to her feet, grabbed the lamp, and threw it against the stones of the fireplace. It shattered, spraying lamp oil over the paper and wood. A blaze leaped up and spread fast. She ran to a table, grabbed another lantern, threw it down, and more fire spread across the saloon, quickly licking over the dry wood.

  “Fire!” she cried. “Everybody out!”

  Gunfire slowed as the outlaws looked around, saw the flames, and made for the door. They stepped over the prone AHTA men, or kicked their bodies as they hurried outside.

  Angel feared she was too late. She ran over and knelt beside De Luca and Eagle Road. She checked for pulses. Thankfully, they were still alive. Rune and Lucky joined her as heat and smoke from the flames threatened to overwhelm them.

  “Let’s get them outside.” She tugged on De Luca’s shoulder, but he was too heavy for her to lift.

  Rune picked up Eagle Road while Lucky threw De Luca over a shoulder. They left hard on the heels of the outlaws, who were mounting their horses and riding away hell bent for leather.

  Outside, Angel took a deep breath. She pointed toward an area a safe distance from the burning building. “Let me check them.”

  When Eagle Road and De Luca were stretched out, Angel looked over their wounds. “They’re shot up, but looks like nothing vital was hit.”

  Eagle Road struggled to sit up, leaning on his elbows. He looked around the group, and then focused on Rune. “Can’t outfox a fox.”

  “Didn’t figure I could,” Rune said.

  “Thanks. More’n we figured in there.”

  “You gave as good as you got.”

  “If you promise not to come after us,” Angel said, “I’ll bind up your wounds. But you still need to see a doctor.”

  “Can’t do it,” Eagle Road said.

  “Us or the doctor?”

  “Both.”

  “Go ahead,” Lucky said. “I’ll take care of them.”

  “Are you sure?” Angel stood up, somehow knowing she could trust Lucky’s word. “I hate to put you in danger.”

  “Miss Angel, may I remind you that I remain your servant.”

  “Did the gang leave without us?” She jingled the coins in her reticule. “I made money for them.”


  “Baines has his pride,” Lucky said.

  “Let’s make tracks.” Rune got to his feet. “Baines told me the plans and where to meet up.”

  “Stay here,” Eagle Road said. “You keep on this way and you’re buzzard meat.”

  “Not yet, I’m not.” Rune clasped Angel’s arm. “One day you’ll understand, but not this day.”

  “Lucky, when will you—” she started to say as Rune pulled her toward their mounts.

  “I’ll see you on down the road,” Lucky called.

  Rune helped her up on Emma’s back, and then swung onto the saddle of his horse. He leaned over. “As soon as I can find a safe place, we’re going to get some sleep.”

  “I hate to take the time.”

  “No choice. We’re both stretched to the breaking point. We can’t afford to get slow or stupid.”

  “All right. But I want to get far away from here first.”

  “Suits me.”

  As Angel rode away, she glanced back. Orange flames licked up the sides of New Boggy Saloon and gray smoke turned the morning dark.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “Did you start that fire?” Rune glanced over at Angel, more amazed by her actions all the time.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Did you?”

  “I hate this disguise.” She tore off her hat, threw it over the head of Emma, and then guided the mare so that she crunched the hat under her hooves. “That’s that.”

  “Did the Black Widow start the fire?”

  “Rune, I’m trying to be good.” She slumped in her saddle. “After what I did to you, I want to prove that I’m a woman of principle. But every time I turn around, I’m breaking the law, telling lies, or burning buildings.”

  “Maybe I’m a bad influence.”

  “At least you don’t go around burning down people’s property.”

  “You saved the lives of two AHTA trackers. Good men.”

  “That’s why I threw those lanterns. I couldn’t think of anything else to do. All I had was that little derringer.” She sat up straighter. “I don’t know why you don’t get me a real gun.”

  “I’d be happy to, but you won all my money.”

  “All my winnings are going to Baines so he won’t rob the Choctaw.”

  “Too late. His plans are set.”

  “How are we going to stop him?”

  “Don’t know. But if we do, it puts us at odds with the V Gang and the Badgers.”

  “Poor Tate. How do we help him and the Choctaw?”

  “I’m ruminating on it.”

  “At least if I live to tell it, I’ll have something to write about.” She pretended to write across the sky. “Instead of Sweet Rescue, my new dime novel might be called Blazing Guns.”

  “Sounds like something I’d like to read.”

  “You’re not my audience. A more appropriate title could be Blazing Hearts in the Indian Territory.”

  “Now you’ve lost me.”

  “Good.” Angel shook her head. “Rune, I did a terrible thing back there.”

  He rode in close to her. “Life isn’t like a novel. You don’t get to play a powerful goddess like Hel or Freya who can change lives and directions with the stroke of her pen. You take the cards you’re dealt and make the best of them. What was more important, saving two lives or saving a building?”

  “Put like that, I guess I made the right decision.”

  “Sometimes we do what we have to do, not what we want to do.”

  “I wish you’d be a little less sympathetic. You’re making me feel even worse about what I did to you.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Please think about turning yourself in after we rescue Tate. If not for me, do it for your own sake.”

  At that moment, he could’ve given her anything and everything she wanted of him. He was coming to trust her, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Yet she kept proving herself over and over. One of these days, he feared he’d forget why they were together. He’d just take it for granted that they were together and that was the way it should be. Maybe that was how men fell in love.

  “I’ll think about it.” He couldn’t believe those words had tumbled out of his mouth.

  She smiled, squeezed his hand again, and then cantered forward, turning Emma in a circle, before riding back to him. “You won’t regret it! I promise I’ll stand by you.”

  “I just said I’d think about it.”

  “That’s the first step in the right direction. I’m learning that life is all about redemption. Maybe at some point before we die, we stop being stupid so we no longer make mistakes.”

  “You have the makings of a fine novelist.”

  “Really? You haven’t even read my book.”

  “Not your first one. But I’m listening to the second one every mile we travel.”

  “That’s a wonderful compliment. Thank you. I’ll try hard to make this one live up to your expectations.”

  Rune stopped his horse. “We need to make decisions before we go find a place to rest.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have been thinking about my writing when Tate’s in danger.”

  “That’s the thing about life. It stops for nothing and no one.”

  “And won’t let you catch your breath.”

  “Are we agreed to stop Baines?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are we agreed to join up with the Badgers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Far as I can see, we don’t have much choice. First, we get to the Choctaw Capitol ahead of the V Gang and warn somebody in charge. Second, we head off Baines before he gets caught.”

  “And then we all ride to Horsethief Spring?”

  “Yes.”

  “There are a lot of ifs, ands, and buts in that plan.”

  “Got a better one?”

  “No.”

  “We need to get to Tushka Homma without meeting up with the gang. We can take the Military Trail or the Fort Towson Trail.”

  “Which one did they take?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We’ll have to ride long and hard. Our horses will be done in by the time we get there,” Angel said.

  “That’s another problem.”

  “If we go to Lady’s ranch, we can trade horses.”

  “Is it near Tushka Homma?”

  “Yes.”

  “We might as well flip a coin to see which road we take.”

  “But if we choose the wrong one, don’t we lose out on everything?”

  Rune nodded.

  “I have a solution, but you’re probably not going to like it.”

  “We each take one of the roads?”

  “No.” She pulled her reticule out of her saddlebags. From it, she drew out the Spider Grandmother deck of cards.

  “Now is not the time to play poker.”

  “I have a gift that’s been handed down through my family for generations.” She shuffled the cards on her lap, selected three, studied them a moment, and then put them back. “Let’s take the Military Trail. It’s safe.”

  “You’re a fortune-teller?” He stared at her in amazement. “You didn’t need me to teach you poker. You know all about cards.”

  “When I told you I preferred not to handle them, I meant it. I didn’t know how to play poker.”

  “Lucky gave those to you. I recognize the Indian bag. Is that why you’re his huckleberry?”

  “This has nothing to do with Lucky. I don’t know any more about him than you do. I wouldn’t have told you at all, except we must get this road right.”

  “We’ll take the Military Trail.” He kept his thoughts to himself, but she had now become even more desirable.

  “You believe me just like that?”

  “It beats tossing a coin.” He grinned. “Besides, I’d never question the word of a fortune-teller.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Rune eased up the pace as the low, rounded mounds of the Potato Hills came int
o view. After they’d slept a few hours, he’d pushed hard, riding day and all night. They’d stopped at Antlers Spring to water the horses and stretch their legs. They’d made other rest stops to snatch sleep along the way as they’d ridden north up the Military Trail near the snaking Kiamichi River.

  As Angel had predicted, they’d seen no sign of Baines and the V Gang. Rune was ready to get down and stretch his legs. He figured she needed the break even more. She’d never complained although he knew she had to be hurting from so many hours in the saddle. She kept on proving her worth in strength and determination.

  The Kiamichi Mountains rose up around them like protective sentinels clothed in shades of green from stately pine to blackjack oak. He could see why Americans were coveting a land so rich in water, timber, game, grass, and farmland. He hoped the Choctaw, like the Cherokee and the other native nations removed to Indian Territory, could hang on to their new country.

  They rode past cleared areas with log houses, split-rail fences, crops in the fields, and grazing horses and cattle. Choctaws had worked hard to hack roads and trails, build schools, bust sod for farms, construct houses, create trade, and establish businesses. They’d done it all in what had once been Indian hunting grounds.

  Rune was reminded of his Swedish ancestors and their German and Norwegian neighbors who had worked just as hard to do the same in Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, and other states. They’d raised crops and families where once there had been a vast prairie of grass as tall as a horse’s belly.

  As they rode onward, he glanced over at Angel. “Can you find the road to Lady’s ranch?”

  “Yes. I’ve been there a couple of times. She’s south of the Choctaw Capitol construction.”

  A little later, she pointed to the left, and they turned down a road wide enough for a wagon and team of horses. Soon after that they rode through an open gateway in a fence with a sign that read “Gone Right Ranch.”

  Angel chuckled, pointing at the sign. “Lady’s got some sense of humor, doesn’t she?”

  He joined her laughter. “I’d like to meet her.”

  “If we can keep you out of jail, you will.”

  They rode on past a fenced pasture with about two dozen mustangs grazing in the shade of trees. Water in a pond sparkled in the sunlight. A cool breeze brought the scent of horse, dust, and grass.