Cindy Holby

by Angel’s End

  “For heaven’s sake Leah, what are you doing to our minister?” Bettina cried out from the hallway.

  Leah looked down. Blood gushed from his wound. In her haste to remove his clothing, she’d torn off the bandage frozen to his skin. Dang it all! Leah moved quickly to stop the flow of blood. She refused to let another man die under her care.

  THREE

  “Please God…I can’t do this. Not again.” Leah stood in the doorway, looking in on her patient. How long she had stood there she couldn’t say. She needed to move, to do something else for him. But what? Her grandmother’s cuckoo clock, which hung between Banks’s room—no Pastor Key’s room—and the parlor, popped out of its tiny door and announced the time with twelve quick repetitions of its song. The door to its house snapped shut and the clock resumed its steady tick-tick-tick. Outside the wind still howled and tiny shards of ice pelted against the windows along the back of the house. Behind her she heard the softly comforting breathing of her son as he slept. Dodger lay at the foot of the bed, gently snoring in time with Banks.

  The scene before her was not so peaceful. Pastor Key had been lucky, according to Jake. The bullet had gone straight through, evident when they found the exit wound in his back. It hadn’t been too difficult to get the bleeding stopped, even though she was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rockers, what with Bettina telling her everything she did was wrong and Gus wringing his hands at the new minister’s unexpected arrival and impending death. Thank goodness they’d both gone home, and Ward soon after them.

  She’d done all she could for the wound. The trouble was, she didn’t know what more she could do for the fever. Her patient wrenched his head back and forth on the pillow with jerking motions. She could only imagine that he was lost in dreams of some sort, brought on by the fever.

  Jake came through the back door with another load of firewood and Leah ran to push the door shut behind him. “You don’t have to do this, Jake.”

  “You’ve got enough on your plate without having to worry about the fire going out.” Jake walked down the hall and into the parlor and dropped his load on the already overflowing wood box. “By the way, I found a rattler curled up in your stack.” He looked over his shoulder at her while he returned a few stray pieces. “He’s not feeling the cold anymore.”

  Leah suppressed a shiver. She hated snakes with a passion. And once more she was indebted to Jake. The side of beef in her cellar was courtesy of him. She was shameless where Banks was concerned and Jake well knew her weakness.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here?” he asked.

  “I’ll—We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “You’ve got a ranch to take care of.”

  “There won’t be much ranching going on while this snow keeps up.” Jake stood, brushed off his hands and looked at her, his clear gray eyes, as always, looking for some sign from her.

  Leah gathered her shawl around her shoulders.

  “Yeah…well…I guess I’ll be going.” He pulled on his heavy coat, hanging over the back of a chair. “I’ll be at Ward’s if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Jake.” Leah quickly looked away. The constant disappointment that showed in his eyes was more than she could stand at the moment. She leaned her forehead against the door when it closed behind him. No matter how much Jake wanted it, she couldn’t bring herself to love him. She respected him, liked him, enjoyed his company, but the only thing she felt for him was friendship. Was it wrong of her to think he deserved more in a wife? He was a wonderful man, strong, generous and handsome. He should have a woman who was madly in love with him.

  I’m just being selfish. Was it greedy of her to want the same love she’d had with Nate twice in one lifetime? Or had she lost her one chance of a happily-ever-after ending to an outlaw with a gun?

  He’d be such a great father for Banks…

  “NO!”

  Leah ran to Pastor Key’s bedside. He struggled beneath the weight of the sheets and blankets. He pushed them down below his waist and his arms flailed at his hips, searching for something seen only in his feverish state.

  “Shhh,” Leah said. She smoothed his damp, dark hair back from his broad forehead. He responded to her touch, turning his face into her hand. He inhaled against her palm as if he were Dodger, tracing a strange scent. He murmured something in an unrecognizable language and fumbled with the blankets.

  Leah rinsed out a cloth from the bowl of melted snow on the bedside table and placed it on his forehead. It quieted him somewhat, so she moved the chair closer and sat down to study her patient in peace.

  The lamplight cast a small circle of light over his head and chest. His hair was a rich dark brown, and long, as if he’d missed a few haircuts. It curled in more directions than she could count, wild from his snowy ride and fever. His forehead was broad, his eyes deep set beneath thick dark brows.

  I wonder what color his eyes are…Brown?

  His nose was long and straight, perfectly proportioned to the shape of his face. She took it all in as she wrung out the cloth once more; his fever was so hot that the cloth dried almost as soon as she put it on his forehead.

  “No,” he said again.

  Leah stared at his mouth. The flash of teeth when he spoke showed them to be perfectly aligned and surprisingly white. His lower lip was thicker than the top and his mouth mobile, moving in interesting ways as he drifted into his conversation with whatever demons haunted his dreams.

  I wonder what he looks like when he smiles…

  Leah wrung out the cloth again. His chest was covered with sweat so she wiped across it, amazed at the breadth of it, and the smoothness. Nate’s chest had been sprinkled with crisp blond curls so the absence fascinated her. He was dark too, his chest, back and arms tanned olive, contrasting greatly with the white bandage she’d wrapped around his abdomen and the flash of pale buttocks she’d seen when Jake and Ward finished the job of stripping him before placing him beneath the blankets. The tan had to be from physical labor as he was covered with muscles, each one well defined, even the corded ones on either side of his taut belly that trailed down beneath the sheets. She could well imagine him being the type of minister that held barn raisings, swinging a hammer and easily lifting beams, all with his shirt off.

  Leah felt her cheeks flame. “You’re having lustful thoughts…about a preacher.” She put her fingers to her lips, embarrassed that she’d chastised herself out loud. Had he heard her? Did her words register in his subconscious? Would he look down at her from the pulpit and scold her for being a woman of loose morals?

  “No…no…stop…please stop…”

  Leah placed the cloth on his forehead once more.

  “Is he going to make it?” Pris asked Ward as he entered the Heaven’s Gate Saloon. Ward walked directly to the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey.

  “I reckon that’s up to the good Lord and Leah Findley,” he said after he’d tossed back the shot. He poured another one to chase off the bone-chilling cold that came from standing in the street talking to Gus Swanson about the preacher’s dramatic arrival to town. “Hand me another glass,” he said to Bob. “Jake should be here soon.”

  He looked around the empty saloon. “We rent out some rooms?” he asked.

  “Two,” Bob replied. “The miners took one and once those cowpokes figured out Pris wasn’t interested they took another.” He wiped a towel down the bar. “I’m turning in.”

  Ward tipped his glass toward Bob as he went into his room in the back. Pris yawned and laid her head down on the bar.

  “Go on to bed,” Ward said. “Nothing else is going to happen tonight.”

  “Are you sure Jake’s coming here?” Pris thought her crush on Jake was a secret and it mostly was. But Ward knew how to read people better than most, and Pris showed the same signs of yearning for Jake that Jake showed for Leah. It was a big old circle of unrequited love that kept Ward well entertained.

  “Leah won’t have Jake to stay if that’s what you mean.�
�� Ward poured a shot into Jake’s glass and pushed it toward Pris. “Why should tonight be any different?”

  “That good-looking preacher is there.”

  “Are you thinking about switching religions Pris?”

  Pris grinned. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

  “Go to bed. Jake won’t be in a mood to talk when he gets here.”

  Pris drank the shot and climbed the stairs to the second floor. There were eight rooms above, two of which were Ward’s, one belonged to Priscilla and the rest he rented out on nights like tonight. Ward made a decent living with Heaven’s Gate and for the most part he enjoyed it. There was no better place to study your fellow man than a saloon.

  The wind grabbed the door and banged it back against the wall. The half doors, used only in summer slapped back and forth as they came loose with the abruptness of Jake’s entrance. Jake wrestled them back into place, jerked off his gloves, threw them on the bar and threw back the shot Ward poured for him.

  “That was an interesting turn of events.” Ward poured them both another shot. A cold draft swirled around their legs as both men leaned against the bar.

  “He’s a bit younger than I expected,” Jake said.

  “He’s a bit more shot than I expected,” Ward replied. He knew Jake was already worried about the competition for Leah’s heart, but he was feeling generous so didn’t say anything about it. “I wonder what happened to him.”

  “He ran afoul of someone, that’s for sure.”

  “Bad night for it.” Ward studied Jake over his glass. How much longer before he realized that Leah just wasn’t interested in him? “Leah felt like she could handle it on her own?”

  “What’s to handle?” Jake replied. “The bullet passed through, live or die, now it’s up to God, not Leah.”

  “She’ll do what she can for him.”

  Jake shrugged. “That’s all anyone can ask of her.” His voice was tight and his words clipped. Yep, she’d shot him down. Ward opened his mouth to speak.

  “Don’t,” Jake said. “Just don’t.” He jerked on his gloves. “I’m going home.”

  “In this mess?”

  “I’ve got a ranch to run.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that when you’re frozen and the wolves are chewing on your bones.”

  “Not all of us have saloons to hide in Ward.” Jake stomped out not bothering to close the door behind him. The wind caught it once more and kicked it back against the wall. Ward put the lid back on the whiskey bottle and shivered as he pushed the door shut. It was a bad night out, but Jake was a grown man. He’d make it home, just out of pure stubbornness. Ward went back to the bar and opened a locked cabinet beneath the till. He took a cigar from a wooden box, clipped its end and lit it. He looked around the empty saloon, at the polished bar, the mirror that hung behind the tables scattered about and the staircase that led to the rooms. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, he went to the battered piano and sat down to play.

  He couldn’t fight her alone. She was too much for him, just as she’d been too much for him when he was younger. Cade tried to push Letty away but she wouldn’t go. She clung to him like a tick. She crawled on top of him, pulled at his shirt, and clawed his chest. He was hot, slick with sweat and she used it to move her body against him like a snake slithering through a puddle. If Jasper came in and found her on him he’d kill them both for sure and then tell his friend to make sure Brody died. Why wouldn’t she leave him alone?

  “I know what you want.” She took his earlobe in her mouth and bit down.

  “I don’t…stop…please…” The things he felt, it couldn’t be right. The way his body reacted. It had to be wrong. Cade saw it happening. He was outside himself, watching his sixteen-year-old self from above, yet he still felt the evilness of her touch. His skin crawled. If only he could make her stop. He had to get away. He had to get away from Letty, yet he felt paralyzed, helpless, and trapped.

  No more. Never again. He wasn’t a boy now. He was a man. Wasn’t he? How could he be both?

  Hell…I’m in hell…It had to be. He was dead and in hell. He heard the screams of the condemned howling around him. He was burning up and his punishment was to watch his sins, each one as he committed it, over and over again. There was one comfort at least. If he was in hell then Letty and Jasper were too.

  She’s here…she’s here…God. Please. No. He had to get away from her. He had to. He couldn’t live it again. He’d fight her. Like he should have fought her before but he was too damn scared at the time. Scared for himself, and scared for Brody.

  Cade pushed at her with arms that had no strength. He willed his legs, legs that felt as if they were no longer connected to his body, to move. He felt himself, in two different places, one on the bed beneath Letty and the other floating on the ceiling, watching. Surely the two Cades could fight her together. Surely the two of them could move as one.

  Letty laughed. She kissed his neck, then moved her mouth down his chest, licking and nipping his skin. The bed held him prisoner. The blankets twisted around his legs, holding him like chains. His gut twisted in pain and his chest ached with the effort. He had to get away. He must. I must!

  Leah’s chair tipped, startling her from her troubled sleep. She blinked and jerked quickly to attention. “Banks?” She was in his room, next to his bed. The lamp was turned down low and showed the empty sheets torn loose and rumpled as if a wrestling match had occurred. Awareness hit her like the cold wind that howled outside. Not Banks. Banks was safe and asleep in her bed with Dodger by his side. Pastor Key.

  “No.”

  Leah stood and turned up the lamp. The glow lit the upper part of the tiny room, casting a circle of warmth to fight the cold darkness that seemed to creep through the walls with the blizzard that still screamed outside. Her patient stood in the corner, next to the window, on the opposite side of the bed. He trembled, with his arms crossed before his face, his palms facing outward, his head bent, as if he were waiting for a heavy blow to strike him down.

  Leah took a cautious step toward him. “Pastor Key?”

  “No. I won’t let you.” He turned to her, his eyes dark, unfocused, seeing something within. Something terribly frightening by the look on his face. “No more. Never again.”

  “You’re safe,” Leah said. I should have let Jake stay…I can’t handle this…She took a step around the bed. “Oh my goodness.”

  He was naked. His flanks, starkly white against the planked walls took her by surprise. It shouldn’t have been a shock; after all she knew he was naked before, when he was under the blankets. It was just that male part of him, that very male part of him, was where her attention was drawn.

  “God forgive me,” Leah said. Heat flooded her face and she put her hands up to cover her cheeks. It was not as if he knew, he was out of his head with fever. If he made it…God please let him make it…she’d never be able to look him in the eye. She’d seen Pris make the sign of the cross on her forehead, chest and shoulders when she did something that she knew was a sin. Leah would have done the same now, if she hadn’t been so scared she’d do it wrong and offend the Lord even more.

  She swallowed hard. “Pastor Key?”

  He jammed his palms to his eyes. “No. Not him. No.” He dropped his hands and turned to her. His eyes were brown, as she’d expected. But more than brown, they were sad, as if there was no hope left in the world. “He’s not here.” So very sad. He gazed at her, unseeing and a tear trickled down his cheek. “Please don’t let him be here.”

  Leah took the last few steps and caught him as he started to slide down the wall. “You need to lie down. It’s all right. You’re safe. Everything will be fine.” She didn’t really know what she said; she just knew she needed to soothe him to get him back into bed. She grabbed his arms. He was so solid and much taller than she was, but she was strong from hard work and she managed to get a grip and sling his arm over her shoulder.

  He fought to stay upright and she placed her arm a
round his waist to steady him. He was bleeding again. She was a horrible nurse. Horrible. It would be a miracle if he survived.

  “Let’s get you back to bed,” she said. They staggered forward the few steps until she was able to drop him none too gently on the bed. Leah straightened the sheets and blankets and tried her best to keep her eyes averted until she was able to cover him. She checked his wound by pulling the wrapping back. All she could do was place more padding against it and hope it would be enough to curtail the bleeding. She wrung out the cloth again and turned to place it on his forehead. He was looking at her with his very brown, very sad eyes.

  “Who are you?” His voice cracked on the words.

  “I’m Leah.”

  “What did you do?” He closed his eyes once more. “Angels can’t be in hell.” He gasped and his head dropped to the side with an exhalation.

  Oh my God. He’s dead. Please God, don’t let him be dead. Leah leaned in closer. She bent her head, her ear close to his mouth, and near his chest. Was he breathing? “Pastor Key?”

  He sighed deeply and then spoke again. “No.”

  Why was she here? The angel. The angel who found him in the cold. But if she was an angel, why did she take him to hell? Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was just more of the punishment. But maybe, just maybe she could get a message to Timothy. She could tell him he was sorry. She was close by. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there.

  “Tell him I’m sorry,” Cade said. Was it possible that she could reach him? Tell him?

  “It’s hell…anything is possible.” Jasper leaned over him and laughed.

  “You might have gotten me but you didn’t get my brother.”

  “Yes I did.” Jasper stepped back and swung his arm out, just like he used to during his cons with the medicine show. The insidious smile was definitely the same, so what came next would be evil. It always was in the past. What was he up to?

  Cade saw himself as a boy, much younger this time. He was with Brody and his father stood behind the two of them. His father smiled, the same generous smile he’d give before he began one of his sermons. He placed his hands upon their heads, one on Cade’s, one on Brody’s. He ruffled their hair. Then he knelt down between them, slid his hands down their backs and shoved them. Cade felt his body stumble forward. He spread his arms out to catch himself but Jasper caught him instead and another man came in and snatched up Brody and ran with him.