Catch a Fallen Angel

by Maureen Child

  Chapter Four

  Once she got Jake off to school and Gabe busy fixing the loose step out front, Maggie headed off to the mercantile. Still fuming inside, she needed someone to talk to. Someone to be herself with. Before she exploded as completely as her stove had.

  Clutching fistfuls of her skirt, she held the hem off the ground so the uncomfortable pointed toes of her shoes wouldn't catch on the fabric and send her sprawling face down in the dust. Oh, that was all she would need to put the final touches on an already superb morning.

  "Watch it lady," someone yelled and Maggie came out of her furious thoughts in time to step wide around an approaching cowboy as he reined in sharply. He was still scowling at her as he spurred his horse into a wide arc around her.

  "Sorry,” she called, but then wondered why she should apologize. She was the one who'd almost been run down like a dog. Because, she told herself, it was what a "lady” would do. “Oh, beans and biscuits, pots and pans, and…" Her voice faded off because she couldn't come up with any other silly curses.

  Remembering Gabe's admonition to simply say "damn" when she needed to rose up in her mind and she wished it were that simple. Of course, not so very long ago, it had been that simple. Back when she and Jake had lived alone on their little farm.

  Lord, how the memories of those times shone in her mind. But, she reminded herself as she pushed aside happier memories, she'd made her decision. It was for Jake’s sake she was here. And for Jake's sake, she would make it work.

  At the opposite side of the street, she took the steps at a run, forgetting momentarily that a "lady" would walk slowly, sedately. She nodded at a man who tipped his hat as she passed, then walked down the boardwalk to the general store. Her heels tapped out angrily against the wood and she hardly slowed down as she grasped the brass latch and threw the door wide.

  The string of bells over the door jounced and clanged as the door slammed into the wall. Sound echoed in the big store, and from the back of the mercantile, a woman's voice called out, "I recognized that slam, Maggie. I'll be right there!"

  "It’s all right, Dolly," Maggie answered loudly as she checked to make sure she hadn't done any damage to the door or the glass panel in the middle of it. Thankfully, this time she was safe. The last time Sugar’d made her mad, Dolly had had to order a new glass pane in from Reno. "Nothing's broken."

  “Well, good!" The laughter in the other woman's voice warmed Maggie's heart and the fury inside her dissipated just a bit. "Glass is getting to be as dear as gold."

  Taking a deep, hopefully calming breath, Maggie inhaled the familiar scents of the general store and tried to block Sugar Harmon and other women like her from her mind. Slowly, old memories of good times and happier days drifted through her, pushing the fury within her aside.

  The mercantile had had this effect on her since she was a child. The mingled scents of hard candy and coffee and leather goods and exotic cooking spices all came together to blend into an aroma that smelled of home and safety and acceptance.

  The sound of high heels clicking against the shining wood floor drew Maggie out of her pleasant memories. “Lordy, girl, you come over this early in the morning just to break another door for me?" Dolly Trent walked along the length of her counter and came to a stop beside an ornate brass and silver cash register that glimmered and shone in the morning sunlight.

  The older woman's graying blond hair was piled into a loose knot high on her head and two pencils jutted up from the bun like wooden horns. In her youth, she'd had an hourglass figure, but now, she liked to say, "The sands had stuck in the middle," leaving her more round than well rounded. But she had kind gray eyes, a sweet smile, and a nurturing heart.

  Maggie crossed the floor to the counter and, as she had ever since she was tall enough to reach, took the lid off a candy jar and pulled out a licorice whip. She took a healthy bite, chewed for a minute, then said, “I had to come and see you, Dolly.”

  "What's wrong, child?"

  The concern etched into her features warmed Maggie's heart. No matter what else happened in her life, she knew she'd always have at least one good friend to count on.

  "Sugar Harmon," she said and then added what she'd wanted to say earlier. "Damn her hide."

  The other woman frowned and shook her head. "For pity’s sake, what’d she do now? And why in God’s name do you listen to that female?"

  "Oh, the sun was hardly up before she was at my back door, sticking her nose into the kitchen and my life."

  "About what?" Dolly leaned both forearms on the counter and looked at her.

  "She said Bass Stevens told her he'd heard an explosion at my place and—“

  "Hmph!” Dolly snorted and shook her head. "Bass wouldn't hear an explosion if a stick of dynamite went off under his barber chair. The man's deaf as a post and dumber than two bricks."

  A short but apt description of the town barber. "True, but he heard enough to start talking.”

  "More likely, Sugar was snooping around and heard it herself." Then what she was saying dawned on her and she paused before asking, "What explosion? You didn't…?"

  Maggie held up one hand to stop the flow of questions "I didn't do anything except have an accident."

  "An accident? Are you all right?" Dolly looked her up and down as if checking for any blood that might have been overlooked yesterday.

  "I'm fine," Maggie said shortly and took another bite of licorice. "I fell is all, and then I knocked the stove chimney off and it fell and threw soot all over me and the kitchen.”

  Dolly's lips twitched.

  It did sound funny. Now that it was over. Smiling herself, she said, "Go ahead and laugh, Gabe did."

  "Gabe?"

  To quell the interest in the other woman's eyes, Maggie quickly explained about the man who’d come to the restaurant as a customer and ended up staying on as a hired hand.

  "Interesting," Dolly mused. "A stranger walks in off the street and you hire him."

  Frowning slightly, Maggie reached for another piece of licorice.

  "Is he handsome?"

  "I suppose," Maggie said.

  "Well, now," Dolly said softly, "this is interesting news indeed."

  "No it's not," Maggie told her, refusing to let her old friend start building up a romance where none existed.

  "So you say now.”

  "So I’ll always say."

  Dolly scowled. "You're too young a woman to lock yourself up inside, girl."

  "Dolly," she said on a sigh, "I'm a widow and a mother. I've been married and I've been alone. I like alone better."

  "Pshaw," the other woman said. "You haven't been married. Kersey Benson don't count at all."

  Oh, they'd had this conversation too many times.

  Dolly was bound and determined to help Maggie find another man…whether she wanted one or not. And she definitely didn't want one.

  The only decent thing Kersey had ever done in his life was make Jake. And though she might secretly yearn for more children…actually a houseful of them… Maggie wasn't willing to tie herself to another man to get them.

  "And you say Sugar got a look at him too?"

  "'A look at him?" Maggie said on a laugh, grateful for the slight change of subject. "She never took her eyes off him." Then she shook her head and continued. "But I didn't come to see you about Gabe. It's Sugar. I swear, I don't know how much longer I can put up with her and not say something."

  "Who said you have to?" Dolly demanded hotly.

  "Oh, I don't really mind when she starts in on me," Maggie told her. "Lord knows I'm used to being talked about and whispered over."

  "You're exaggeratin'," Dolly said.

  “No I'm not," she said flatly. "You know as well as I do that folks in this town have been talking about me for years. First they talked about my father and then when he married Mama it was her they started in on."

  "Now, Maggie…”

  "It's true and you know it, Dolly," Maggie said. "They picked on Mama until s
he died and then they turned their claws and teeth on me." Her fingernails drummed on the counter.

  The other woman's mouth snapped shut. She could hardly argue the point when she knew it to be gospel. Still, she had to say, "Maybe it's time you started talking back, then."

  "I can't… won't," Maggie said. Shaking her head, she took another bite of licorice and briefly savored the sweet taste in her mouth that went a long way toward ridding her of Sugar's aftertaste. "The only thing that will shut folks up is if they don't have anything to talk about. I'm going to be so damned proper, I'll make myself sick."

  "Oh, now that sounds nice.”

  "And Jake won't be running around getting into any mischief!” Nodding to herself, she went on. “Folks are not going to throw his father in his face. They're not going to look at him and see Kersey." When Dolly opened her mouth to argue, Maggie cut her off. "I want Jake to be accepted here. I want him to feel like he's a part of this town."

  "Honey," she said and laid one hand on Maggie's forearm, "as long as that child has you, he'll be happy as two fleas on a shaggy dog."

  Maggie smiled softly. Jake did love her, she knew. And she loved him right back. Enough to change herself, make herself over in an attempt to give her son a happier life. Wasn't that the main reason she'd moved to town in the first place? And by God, she'd do whatever she had to, even put up with Sugar, to make sure her plans and hopes for her son came true.

  “Jake is a part of this town, honey. Same as you."

  "No.” She shook her head. "Not yet." Oh, Jake had friends his own age, but she'd seen the adults in town watching him. Watching her. They were all waiting for her to fail. To do something… odd again so they could talk and laugh about her. But that would change with time. All she had to do was be patient and keep remembering to behave like a "lady."

  Which she could do as long as people didn’t pick on her son.

  "Just a while ago, Sugar started in on Jake. Right in front of me." She remembered the look on the woman's face and Maggie felt the urge to smack something. But ladies didn't show their tempers, unfortunately. She had to wonder who'd made up all the rules about ladylike behavior and, privately, she decided that it must have been a man.

  Instantly, her friend stiffened in outrage. "What’d that viperous female say?"

  "Oh," Maggie said, remembering and feeling a fresh rush of anger fill her. "It doesn't really matter. All that matters is that I barely kept myself from slapping her face so hard she'd have to look over her shoulder to see straight ahead."

  “That's just what she needs," Dolly muttered.

  Maggie couldn't have agreed more. But that wasn't the point. If she was going to give Jake the kind of life he deserved, then she needed to win over the townspeople like Sugar who made enough noise that folks listened. She shouldn't have to worry about her son having to listen to old gossip about his no-good father and new gossip about his mother.

  For pity's sake, why couldn't they just leave the memories of Kersey where they belonged? In the past.

  The more she thought about it, the more furious she got.

  “I’m just so mad I could spit," she muttered and started pacing, relishing the sound of her quick steps on the floor. One corner of her mind pretended she was walking back and forth across Sugar's prone body and she smiled darkly at the thought.

  "Go ahead and spit if it'll make you feel better," Dolly offered. "Just aim for one of the spittoons if you don't mind."

  Maggie laughed and stopped dead. "You know darn well, ladies don't spit."

  "Ladies aren't supposed to gossip either, but that don't stop Sugar any."

  "True."

  "I swear, the worst thing we ever did was elect poor Redmond mayor." Dolly reached up and smoothed her hair unnecessarily. "As soon as we did, Sugar figured she was in charge around here and she sharpened her tongue on a razor strop.”

  "But what can I do about her?"

  "You? Nothing," Dolly said, adding, "that is, if you're still determined to be Miss Almighty Prim and Proper."

  "You know I am."

  "I still say it's a mistake to be anything but what you are."

  "Dolly…"

  She snorted again. "Fine, fine. Don't listen to me. But you can let me handle Sugar.”

  It was the right thing to do, she knew. Though it grated on her to back away from a fight, Maggie was in no position to challenge Sugar openly. Not when she'd spent the last two years trying to convince everyone that she'd outgrown her… outlandishness. Sighing she walked back to the counter. "I don't envy you the task."

  "Pshaw," the woman said with a wave of her pudgy hand. “The day I can't handle the Sugar Harmons of this world is the day the good Lord can call me home."

  If she was a more generous soul, Maggie might even feel sorry for Sugar. But she didn't. Smiling, she said, "I don't know what I'd do without you, Dolly.”

  “I expect you'd get along much better than you think you would."

  Maybe. But she was glad she didn't have to find out.

  "Now," Dolly said, being deliberately hearty, “I've got something that I know will cheer you right up."

  "Really?" Maggie leaned on the counter, studied her friend’s sly expression, and knew exactly what she was talking about. "What color this time?”

  "Sunset gold."

  Even the name was inspiring. Uplifting. And oh, how she needed uplifting at the moment

  "I’ll take it."

  "I thought you would.”

  #

  Truth be told, Gabe still wasn't used to having bright sunlight dazzle his eyes. He was a moonlight man. Always had been. And this business of starting his days at the crack of dawn seemed oddly…wrong. Still, it had its own kind of beauty. It even managed to make a spitin-the-road kind of town like this one look somehow golden. He squinted into the sunshine pouring down atop Regret and let his gaze drift across the town that would be the last place he ever lived.

  But even as that thought entered his mind, he had to correct it. He wasn't really living at all, was he? He was a dead man that hadn’t laid down yet. Gabe frowned to himself and shifted position on the porch, leaning his shoulder against a post. Briefly, he remembered those pale icy blue eyes of the Devil he'd met, and despite the soft yellow warmth of the sun, felt a chill sweep along his spine.

  Damned disconcerting, this kind of existence.

  Dead but not completely. Alive, but not living. Just what the hell was he, anyway? A gambler who no longer gambled? A handyman for a restaurant that had no customers? One condemned soul sent to capture the soul of a man he’d once called a friend?

  Oh, he didn’t care for the sound of that, Gabe realized and mentally shied away from the thought. But it was Henry's own fault, right? The old thief had earned his way into Hell, same as him. It wasn't as though the Devil had sent Gabe to fetch some sterling character with high moral qualities. To trick some poor unsuspecting soul out of his rightful place in Heaven.

  But that fact didn't make him feel any less the traitor.

  Damn it.

  Why he should feel sympathy for a man who'd let him be hanged, he didn't know. But there it was.

  Still, when a man was on a slick slope with a slide straight into Hell, he didn’t have the option of granting mercy to anyone.

  He let his gaze sweep across the shop fronts lining Main Street, and as he did, he wondered who in this town knew the most about Henry Whittaker. Who was waiting for the man's next visit? It stood to reason that the old thief had friends, probably family in or around Regret. Otherwise, why choose it as a home base?

  Henry had to have people in town he could count on. People he trusted. And who would a man trust more than family? So who might it be? There was no way of telling. He couldn't rightly ask around without arousing suspicions. And he surely couldn't risk someone warning Henry off.

  So he would have to content himself with waiting.

  And listening. He'd keep his ears open for talk of Henry and hope that the man showed up on time
to keep the appointment he didn't know he had.

  In the meantime, Gabe told himself as he noticed Maggie step out of the mercantile, there were other things to think about.

  He watched her as she hitched a wooden crate higher in her arms and noted that it was heavy enough to make her stagger slightly. She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes and smiled to herself. Maybe Maggie Benson wasn't so different after all, he thought. Like every other woman he'd ever known, she had cured her troubles with a shopping trip.

  She started for the steps and Gabe moved too. His mother hadn't raised a man who could sit still while a woman needed help. He jumped off the top step, landing in the street. Glancing first one way, then the next, he walked toward her. Stepping quickly around a buckboard, he headed for the steps that Maggie was just trying to negotiate.

  "Need some help with that?" he asked, giving her a smile even as he reached for the crate.

  “No, thanks," she said and moved to keep her treasure out of his grasp.

  Surprised, he just stared at her. "But it looks heavy.”

  "It is," she agreed, and started past him down the steps. "So don't stop me now or I'll never make it."

  "Maggie…” He frowned at her back as she walked away from him, headed toward the restaurant. Stubborn woman. It had been a long time since a woman had refused him anything and Gabe wasn't at all sure he liked it.

  How was he supposed to do the gentlemanly thing if she didn't let him?

  He stared after her for a long minute and caught himself admiring the sway of her hips as she moved. Something inside him shifted and a low purr of simple male pleasure rolled through him. Yet, as soon as he realized what he was doing, he shook his head and forced his gaze away from the lure of her hips and behind. He started moving, catching up to her in three easy, long-legged strides.

  "Why not let me carry it for you?”

  She hardly glanced at him as she shook her head. "No need. Remember, I've been taking care of myself for a long time and will again after you've gone."

  “Yes, but while I'm here…" he started to say.

  “While you're here," Maggie interrupted him with a smile, "there are plenty of other things for you to do."