"Oh no…” This couldn't be good. His superiors wouldn't look kindly on an angel, no matter how well meaning, if he was upsetting a child. To God, there was nothing so important as a child.
"Oh yes," his friend countered. "He actually said a prayer asking God to, and I quote here, ‘Beat up the Devil.' And I have to say, our superiors are not happy that a child is expecting the Almighty to get into a fistfight with Satan.
Michael frowned thoughtfully and rubbed his head. The boy must have been following his mother. Good heavens, just how many people had been trotting through the darkness tonight, anyway? And why couldn't these mortals stay out of Heavenly business?
How had this gotten so out of hand? the would-be gunfighter wondered. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
And relatively harmless to all but Gabe Donovan.
Then he remembered the look on Maggie Benson's face and gave silent thanks that he was already long dead and so beyond her reach. He had a feeling that female could be downright dangerous.
"You've been ordered to straighten this out.”
Michael looked up guiltily. “I plan to."
"When?"
"Soon.”
The other angel sighed. "Michael, your plan didn't work. Admit it."
"It is working though," he insisted, remembering how Maggie had flown to Gabe's defense. Surely his superiors could see that if a good, decent woman was willing to fight for his soul, then Gabe was worth saving.
"It's your wings you're risking on this."
”I know," he said and glanced at his still-wingless shoulders. Two centuries of eternity had passed and still he hadn't earned the wings that would mark him as a full-fledged angel. But if he could save Gabriel, steer him down a path different from the one the gambler had been on, Michael would finally be able to hold his head up around here.
It was worth it, he told himself, not for the first time.
Soon enough, things would come to a head and Gabe would make his choice for good or bad.
"I hope you know what you're doing," the angel whispered.
"Me too," Michael said softly, and cast an anxious glance at the world below, locking his gaze on Regret.
#
The next week was a hard one.
Gabe and Maggie didn't speak about what had happened in the meadow. Anytime Maggie tried to broach the subject, Gabe walked away. He wouldn't let her get any more deeply involved than she already was. And he was careful to keep a safe distance from her, despite her protests. Maggie was distracted, worried, and even Jake seemed quieter, more pensive. But while the three of them were quietly miserable, the rest of the world kept on turning.
The stagecoach company, impressed with the restaurant and the comments from passengers, increased the number of stops from twice a week to four times. With the extra money, Maggie hired a cook, Annie Taylor, a widow from an outlying farm, who would be starting work next week. Soon, her business would be blossoming beyond anything she had ever hoped for.
She stood at the back of the now empty building, and realized she had everything she'd ever wanted. The tables at the restaurant would always be full and the stage route manager had even suggested she expand to accommodate overnight guests. She was almost through with her painting at the church, and when she was finished, she had half a dozen more projects to take on. Sugar Harmon hadn't spewed venom in days and Maggie finally felt accepted by Regret.
Yet none of it meant a thing because she was losing Gabe.
Pulling in a deep breath, she turned and stepped out onto the boardwalk. The weather matched her mood. They'd left the days of Indian summer behind them and stepped into the middle of fall. Iron-gray clouds covered the sky, spitting an occasional raindrop at the earth below. Wind howled along the street, and everywhere she looked, people were huddled into coats. Maggie shivered, crossed her arms over her chest, and tried to ignore the cold. She had other things to think about.
Staring out at the busy street, she let her mind wander back to the night in the meadow when she'd come face-to-face with a devil, of all things. A twinge of fear tugged at her heart. How could they fight Hell itself and hope to win?
Frowning, she shifted her gaze to follow the flow of Saturday shoppers. When she spotted the reverend Thorndyke, though, an idea leapt into mind and she almost laughed at the simplicity of it. Why hadn't she thought of this before? Jumping off the boardwalk, she hitched the hem of her skirt up and, dodging in and out of the crowds milling in the street, raced to catch up with her minister.
#
"You're really goin' away, aren't ya, Gabe?"
He looked up from Maggie's ledgers into Jake's eyes and wished to hell he could lie. But staring into a gaze so much like Maggie's, he just couldn't. Not anymore.
"Yeah,” he said. "I am."
The boy leaned against the doorjamb of Gabe's room and stared at him long and hard for a minute or two. Then he rubbed one hand under his nose, kicked the doorjamb, and said, "But if you go, who'm I s'posed to call pa?"
A groan bubbled up in his chest and he strained to keep it inside. Damn it. Who would have guessed there was even more pain headed his way? In his gambling days, Gabe would have bet cold hard cash that he couldn't feel worse than he had a moment ago. Just went to show how much poker sense he'd lost in the last several weeks.
"Jake…" He didn't know what to say. If the truth be known, he didn't want the kid calling anyone but him pa. It tore him up inside just thinking about some other man taking his place here, with Jake. With Maggie. Dropping the pencil, he pushed his chair back from the makeshift desk in his room and faced the boy. Nothing he'd ever done in his life was as hard as looking into Jake's wounded, accusing eyes. "I want you to know that if I could stay, I would."
"It's 'cause of that devil, ain't it?”
Gabe choked, coughed, and stared at the boy, stunned.
"I saw him with you and mom the other night in the meadow.”
Well, perfect. Like mother like son, he thought. "You shouldn't have been there, Jake!” He ran one hand through his hair and dug his fingers into his scalp. Apparently, it was impossible to have a secret around the Benson family. He'd thought himself alone in that meadow, never dreaming that Maggie had followed him. And now he finds out Jake had followed her.
A reluctant smile curved one side of his mouth. They must have made a hell of a sight, their own small parade in the middle of the night. God, but he was going to miss these two.
"I didn't mean to see nothin'," the boy said and came into the room. Perching on the edge of Gabe's narrow bed, he hunched his shoulders, put his clenched hands between his knees, and stared at the floor. “I only was lookin' for you 'cause I wanted to ask you somethin'."
Staring at the kid's bowed head, Gabe sighed, crossed the room and took a seat beside him. Pointless to get mad now, since the deed was done. Besides, at least now the boy knew that leaving wasn't Gabe's choice.
"All right," he said softly. “What was so important you were running around in the dark to find me?"
Jake shot him a sidelong glance from under a fringe of brown hair. "I saw you and mom kissing at the dance.”
Gabe's eyebrows lifted. The kid had had a full night. "And you didn't like that?" he asked.
"Well, it's kinda disgustin' to be kissin' and such."
Gabe smiled despite the situation. It wouldn't be too many years before Jake changed his mind about kissing. Too damned bad Gabe wouldn't be around to walk him through his first love and first heartbreak.
"But," Jake went on, "I liked seein' it."
"You did?" He smiled and ran one hand over the boy's head.
“Yeah. It felt kinda… right, you know?”
"Yeah," Gabe admitted sadly. "I know."
"So anyhow," Jake continued after taking a long breath, "I was gonna ask you to marry us. Me and my mom, I mean, so's you could really be my pa and everything. And I wouldn't care if you wanted to kiss her sometimes."
A cold, hard fist squeezed Gabe's
heart and wrung it so tightly, tears glimmered at the backs of his eyes and his throat closed up with emotion. "Ah, Jake," he said on a sigh, "there's nothing I'd like better, but—“
"But that ol' Devil won't let you, huh?"
"That's right." Man. Hell couldn't be much worse than this, he told himself.
Then Jake grinned and surprised him again. "Well, don't you worry none, 'cause I fixed it.”
A flicker of worry stirred inside him. "Is that right?”
"Yep." A proud smile split his features.
"Well, how'd you do that?"
"I prayed.”
Gabe smiled at the boy. He looked so sure of himself. So positive that now the trouble was fixed. Idly, Gabe wondered if he'd ever had that kind of faith. He couldn't even remember a time when he'd believed that a prayer would turn things around. And it was a damn shame to shatter Jake's illusions and disappoint him again.
But it was better than having the child sitting around waiting for a miracle that wasn't going to happen.
“Thank you, Jake," he said and meant every word. "I don't think anybody's ever prayed for me before. But—“
“You'll see," the boy interrupted him and patted Gabe's knee. "God can beat up some old Devil easy. This'll fix everything and you won't have to go nowhere."
“Anywhere."
"Anywhere," Jake repeated with a nod.
Draping one arm around the kid's shoulders, Gabe pulled him closer and gave him a hard hug. When the boy's thin arms came around his middle and squeezed back, Gabe's heart twisted just a bit tighter and he actually found himself wishing he could believe in miracles himself.
#
An hour later, Gabe and Jake sat in the restaurant's empty dining room, sharing a wedge of chocolate cake that had enough frosting on it to almost completely disguise the slight charred flavor.
The front door flew open and crashed against the wall. They both turned in time to see Maggie rush into the room and slam the door closed behind her. A high flush of color stained her cheeks and, even though her lips looked a little blue from the cold, her eyes were wide and bright with hope.
"Good, you're both here," she said and hurried across the room. Picking up Gabe's cup of coffee, she cradled it between her hands and sighed at the warmth drifting into her bones. “Oh, that feels good."
"Not surprising," Gabe said. "It's freezing outside."
"Yes." She grinned at him, then reached out to ruffle Jake's hair. "Gorgeous, isn't it?"
"Are you feeling all right?" he asked and stood up to take a closer look at her.
She grabbed his hand and set the coffee cup down. Gabe instantly took both of her hands in his and rubbed them, trying to ease away some of the iciness.
“I feel wonderful," she said and gave him a quick, hard kiss.
Not that he minded, but, "Maggie, what's going on?"
"I have a plan," she said proudly.
"A plan?" Jake asked.
"And it'll work too," she said, nodding at her son before turning back to look into Gabe's eyes.
"To beat that Devil?” Jake prompted.
Gabe looked at the two of them. "You knew he knew?"
Maggie nodded, sparing her son a quick glance. Naturally, she hadn't been pleased that he'd followed them out into the night. But she could understand why he'd done it. He'd wanted to keep Gabe with them as much as she did. "He told me."
“Well, I wish somebody had told me," Gabe said.
"That's not the point now," she told him and launched into her story. "I went to see the reverend Thorndyke."
“Yeah?" Gabe looked at her warily.
"And though it took me a while to convince him I was serious…" She paused and asked, "Why is it, do you think, that a man who spends his whole life preaching against sin and Hell doesn't want to accept that you've actually seen a devil?"
"I don't know," Gabe muttered. "Maggie, what did you do?"
"I enlisted his help in the fight," she said proudly.
He let her go, stepped back and shook his head.
"There is no fight," he said tightly. "I already told you that. The deal is done. There's no getting out of it.”
She wouldn't accept that. "If there's a way in, there's a way out," she said flatly.
“Maggie, stop trying. Accept what is and try to live with it I am."
She stepped in close to him and tilted her head back to look up into his eyes. "You're going to give up that easily?"
A spark of anger lit his eyes and she was pleased to see it.
"It's not easy, believe me," he snapped, then shot a look at Jake and lowered his voice. "Nothing about this is easy. But it's the way it is. And your preacher can't change it."
"It's worth trying,” she told him just as hotly.
"Damn it, Maggie…"
The front door opened again suddenly, and in a rush of cold air a man walked in, dropped his carpetbag, and yelled, "Hello, everybody!" Then he spotted the other man and, clearly surprised, asked, "Gabe?”
"Grandpa!" Jake shouted and scurried across the room.
"Henry?" Gabe asked.
"Daddy!" Maggie exclaimed.
"Daddy?" Gabe echoed in a hollow voice.
#
The oil lamps Maggie had lit before taking Jake upstairs to his room flickered crazily in the gloom. Left to themselves, the two men stared at each other. Silence stretched uncomfortably between them for several minutes before Gabe finally spoke up.
"You never told me you had a family," he said, staring hard at the portly older man.
"Well…" He waved one hand absently. "You know how it is. A man don't want too many people knowing his business. Makes for too much trouble."
“Uh-huh." Meaning, someone might know where to come looking for you if they needed to find you for some reason, like serving a warrant.
"Ah," Henry said, spotting the leftover dessert. "Cake. Looks good. Someone else must've made it." He took a bite, savored it, then wrinkled his brow as he tasted the tinge of scorched flour. "Nope. I guess my girl's still burning things, eh?" He chuckled and shook his head indulgently.
"She's getting better,” Gabe muttered, offended for Maggie's sake. Besides, how could the old coot just stand there talking pleasantly when he knew damn well he'd left Gabe to face an angry mob just a few weeks ago?
As if he could read minds as easily as that devil, Henry set the cake down, dusted his palms together, and gave Gabe an apologetic smile. "I'm, uh, sorry about that little ruckus a while back."
"Ruckus?" Gabe repeated incredulously.
"I wanted to get word to you, boy." He paused and shrugged. “Those folks weren't very trusting at all. Started making noises about checking my background, can you believe it?” He shook his head. "It's a sad thing this world is coming to. No trust anymore. Anyway, I had to hightail it out of there quick. Wasn't a way to reach you to warn you off. But anyhow, I'm glad to see you came to no harm."
“No harm, Henry?" All right, there was the anger he thought had gone. Rushing him, filling him like water pouring from a jug.
Henry winced, shot a look at the open doorway behind him, and lifted one finger to his lips. "Ssh. This here's between you and me."
“No harm?" Gabe asked again, ignoring Henry's plea for quiet. "You damned fool, those people hanged me!”
Shocked, Henry took a step back and snapped his gaze up and down Gabe before saying, “Well, it looks as though they did a mighty poor job of it.”
"Don't you believe it." Gabe tugged at his shirt collar and pulled it down far enough to show the old man the rope scar around his neck.
"Oh my," the other man said, shaking his head. "That looks quite painful."
"Yeah, Henry. It was." And suddenly it all came rushing back. The noose tightening. The slow loss of air.
The pain exploding in his head, and then waking up to find himself in a darker version of the real world talking to the demon who wanted to claim his soul.
He fought down the urge to grab Henry Whittaker by
the lapels and shake him like a dog would a bone.
"My dear boy," Henry said solemnly, "I can't tell you how sorry I am."
Gabe threw his hands wide and let them fall to his sides again. Shaking his head, he snapped, "Well, Henry, you're going to be a helluva lot sorrier soon."
"Whatever do you mean?”
So Gabe told him. Told him about the Devil and the deal he'd made. And told him that very shortly, the two of them would be sharing a companionable bench in the fires of Hell.
To give him his due, the older man only blanched slightly, swallowed hard, and then sighed. "Well, I can't say as it's a surprise to discover where I'll be spending eternity. Although I had hoped for a few more years, yet.”
"Me too," Gabe admitted dryly.
"If it's any comfort" Henry added, clapping Gabe on the shoulder, "I don't blame you a bit for taking that deal. Two more months of life would have been worth just about anything." He eased himself down into a chair. "Have you enjoyed them?"
Sighing, Gabe sat down opposite him. No matter what, it seemed to be impossible to stay mad at Henry. They'd known each other too long. Been through too many scrapes together. Besides, the old thief, despite his… profession, had a good heart and a friendly nature. And he was Maggie's father.
Bracing his elbows on his knees, Gabe cupped his head in his hands briefly, then looked up and said, "Yeah. I surely have."
The older man stared at him for a long minute as realization dawned on his features. "Ah," he said on a sigh. “That’s how it is, then."
No point in lying about this. “I love her, Henry."
"I can see that, boy." His voice was kind, tinged with sorrow.
"And I'm going to lose her."
"As am I," Henry said.
Gabe looked at him. "I didn't know," he said, "that you were her father when I made that deal."
"I know that.”
He didn't get it. He didn't understand. "Henry, don't you see what this means?"
The older man just looked at him blankly.
"Not only am I leaving her, when she might even now be carrying my child, but I'm taking you with me." Disgusted, Gabe shook his head again and rubbed the back of his neck. "She'll be alone. Just her and Jake.”
Catch a Fallen Angel Page 23