Cindy Holby

by Angel’s End

  He wanted to rip the door off the shed. Cade wanted to scream his frustration to the mountaintops. He could blame everything that had happened since he arrived in Angel’s End on his past, but the truth was he’d dug this hole by himself. He’d wanted Leah and he’d taken her and the consequences to Leah be damned.

  He knelt by the door. Dodger must have sensed his despair. He laid his head on Cade’s knee and stared up at him with his deep, dark accepting eyes. Dodger liked him.

  “You’re a good dog,” Cade said as he rubbed the dog’s head. “A horrible judge of character, but a good dog.”

  Dodger was content. He closed his eyes and leaned into Cade’s hands.

  “I’ll miss you too,” he told the dog. He’d miss all of them, Banks, Dodger, Ashes, even the scrappy little rooster that strutted around the yard. Leah…His heart hurt. The thought of never seeing her again wrenched at his insides worse than the bullet that led him here.

  Did it lead him here? Had Timothy been right when he spoke the words by the fire. God led you to this place at this time in your life. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps God’s answer was not now? To wait and be patient and see where he leads you?

  Had his blind escape from Timothy’s camp led him to this place, to this town, to this woman? Why? Wouldn’t he have been better off to not know her? Leah certainly would be better off not knowing him…unless…maybe this was the impetus she needed to marry Jake Reece. Maybe it was all part of God’s plan, showing her what could happen to her without the protection of a good man.

  The thought of her with Jake Reece would surely kill him.

  “It’s time to go…” Cade gave Dodger one final pat and looked around the yard once more before he went into the shed. He’d make his preparations now and leave tonight, when she lay down with Banks. She’d be better off with him gone and hopefully by Christmas he’d be nothing more than a bad memory.

  “You are every kind of fool Cade Gentry…” Cade found his stash and pulled out the gun. He checked the load. Fitch was out there somewhere, with his long memory and his need for revenge. He wouldn’t stop until one of them was dead. “Maybe this time I’ll get lucky and it will be me.”

  It wasn’t often that such a big group rode into town on a Friday. Lady jumped to her feet as Ward played. Her ears, turned toward the door, alerted him that somebody was on the way in. When five men, all of them strangers, walked into the Heaven’s Gate he was both surprised and pleased. Unexpected money was always nice. He could only hope they would stay awhile and be free with it. Maybe he could get them into a card game.

  “Keep playing and mind your own business,” one of them growled. Another one gave a look to his grouchy companion that said do the same. Lady rumbled deep in her throat. Ward motioned her down with a finger and went back to playing. Bill always kept a shotgun behind the bar, in case things got rowdy, and he wasn’t afraid to pull it out. Ward always lived by the philosophy of not showing his cards until he had to. It served him well when he was playing and it served him well in life. There was no need for these guests to think he wasn’t anything more than a piano player.

  They had traveled long and hard. They took off their heavy coats and gloves, and threw them across chairs before they bellied up to the bar. Luckily Bill was handy as he’d just come in from the back with a case of bottles. He sat the box down and went to wait on them. Pris must have seen them from upstairs. It was a bit early for customers; still she came down, wearing her best dress and showing an abundance of what God had blessed her with.

  “Whiskey,” one said and Bill lined up the glasses for all of them. As one they tossed it back and motioned for another. Bill poured the shots and looked over their shoulders to Ward. Ward raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment. A mirror hung over the top of the piano, angled so he could watch the saloon without anyone aware that he was. They had their signals worked out, he, Bill and Pris. Right now they were just going to wait and see. The West was full of men who were hard, and most of them just wanted a place to stop and warm up before they went on their way. There was no reason for them to be in Angel’s End other than it was the last town before the country got wild and the going got rough. They’d probably been caught in the past few storms unawares and were anxious for warmth, company and good food to fill their bellies. Hopefully they had money to spend. He wasn’t the only one who would prosper by them stopping in town. Dusty and the Swansons could also. All he had to do was sell them a few drinks and rent them some rooms.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. The men had an edge to them that said tread lightly. I should have worn my gun…He usually did, and even had it on this morning, but had taken it off when he got back from a ride out to see Jake, who was in a fine mood when Ward told him about the preacher and Leah holding hands. He’d washed up a bit, had some lunch, and then sat down to play as he was still trying to puzzle out the preacher. Perhaps the six who were now moving about the place, all but one of them going to the potbellied stove to soak up the warmth, would be a welcome distraction. Ward often found the best way to solve a problem was to think on something else.

  Pris joined the men around the stove. She stretched her hands out to warm them, at the same time sticking her behind out and heaving her chest forward, giving all of them a good view. Her laughter tinkled over his music.

  Now was as good a time as any to see what they were up to. Ward stopped with a flourish, stood and stretched with a big yawn while reaching his arms out as if he’d been sitting there for days. He grinned heartily at the man still standing at the bar and then sauntered over to the door. Lady followed, of course. He opened the door to see if she needed to go out, but she just looked at him.

  If things got ugly he sure didn’t want her to get hurt. Especially since she was probably carrying pups now.

  “Harlot,” he said to her, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “That’s a strange name for a dog,” the man at the bar said.

  Ward studied the man from beneath his hat brim. From all appearances he was still looking at Lady but he could size someone up in a hurry. This one was the leader, he had the money and he readily threw it on the bar. The rest were his hired guns. And they were scared to cross him. The one who’d spoken up when they came in stood behind the others, just in case. That meant he had a temper.

  Why were they here?

  “That’s not her name,” Ward drawled. He pushed his hat back and flashed another grin. “It’s just that I caught her out on the street the other morning, doing the deed for the entire world to see with some trashy stray.” Ward casually looked out onto the street before he shut the door. It was empty, except for six wearied horses hitched to his rail. School would let out soon and the little ones would be on the street as they made their way home.

  “Right beneath the angel,” he added as he pulled the door firmly shut. “I’m surprised the good Lord just didn’t strike her and that worthless mutt dead.”

  “Sounds downright sacrilegious to me,” the man at the bar said. The other five laughed. They were well trained. And watchful.

  “Well I guess there’s just no denying it, when the mood strikes.” Ward sauntered up to the bar. He nodded at Bill who took a bottle from beneath. Watered-down whiskey. Very watered down, just enough of it in there to give it the amber color, and the smell, to convince whoever he needed to, that he was drinking. Bill poured the glass extra full and Ward tossed it back with a grateful smile. With luck they would see him as no threat. With even more luck, there would be no need for them to see him as a threat.

  I should have put Lady outside…

  “What brings you to our fair little town?” Ward leaned casually on the bar. Lady stood next to him. She seemed nervous and Ward appreciated her instincts. The man he talked to was shorter than him, thick with muscle, with close-cropped reddish brown hair and small blue eyes that saw everything. They didn’t face each other; instead they both looked into the mirror. Behind them he saw the men, sitting around a table,
and Pris, chatting them up as she carried them another tray of drinks.

  “We’re looking for a friend. Haven’t seen him for a while. Thought he might have passed this way.”

  Ward was instantly curious. Maybe this was the guy who’d attacked Timothy. Maybe this group was bounty hunters or a posse of some sort. Unless they were sworn officers of the law, they wouldn’t be forthcoming about it. “What does he look like? We don’t have many pass through here, and most make it a point to stop in here.”

  “Tall as you, skinnier, dark hair, kind of long, dark eyes, good with a gun.” He tilted his head back as if he were thinking. His eyes stayed on Ward, even though he pretended to search the dark wood beams overhead. “Oh yeah, and he’s gut shot.”

  It was years of experience that kept Ward from reacting to the description. The man he described sounded a lot like the preacher.

  “This man have a name?”

  “Last time I saw him his name was Cade Gentry.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  “You’re going to get sick if you keep going out without your coat,” Leah said, as Cade walked into the kitchen with Dodger on his heels as usual. She checked Banks’s homework as they sat at the table. Cade rubbed her son’s golden hair when he walked by and got a glass of water. He pumped some into Dodger’s bowl also and put it on the floor. Dodger lapped it up and then went to his corner to await his bowl of scraps after dinner. It was funny how they had so quickly fallen into a routine.

  “I was in the shed, filling up all the holes. The coyotes have been digging around. You might need to invest in some fencing. With this early winter, they’re going to get more and more aggressive. You might wake up one morning and find one sitting on your back porch.” He looked out the window over the sink as he spoke. Was he avoiding her?

  “Fencing is expensive,” she said. “And I missed a week of work.” She didn’t mention the rest. That the town had yet to pay her for his upkeep. That he was supposed to eat at Dusty’s, so she didn’t have to bear the expense of feeding him. That he was a drain on her larder. That she didn’t know where she stood with him, even though he told her over and over again that he loved her.

  Oh God, what if I get pregnant? It was something she should be wary of, but she’d been so caught up in the moment…moments.

  He sighed deeply as if he were worried. He leaned on the sink and put his head down. Was he praying?

  “It’s just a thought,” he said finally. “I’d hate for Roscoe to lose any more of his harem.”

  “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

  Cade nodded and sat down at the table. “What are you working on?” he asked Banks.

  “Arithmetic,” Banks said. He turned his slate around so Cade could see. Once more Leah’s heart swelled at the sight of the two heads bent over, companionably close. Cade hung his arm over the back of Banks’s chair as he checked the problem in the book against the one on the slate. The man was so smart. He could have been a lawyer or a doctor, yet he chose to be a minister. It was a powerful calling; yet, again it just didn’t make sense. Leah went to her room.

  A trunk sat at the foot of her bed. She removed the quilt that covered it and knelt before it. The hinges creaked as she opened it. Within it were some things she cherished. Carefully stitched baby clothes, and blankets, all washed and ironed and folded away in hopes of another little miracle. Leah’s cheeks turned fiery at the thought of it. What if she were pregnant by Cade? It would be a blessing in her mind. Would he think so? He made no mention of marriage, no mention of the future. Surely he didn’t think they could continue on this way?

  On one side of the trunk was Nate’s hat. She didn’t know why she put it in the trunk, other than it was in the way and she knew that the sight of it hanging on the hook in the back hall, where he always put it when he came in, would tear her heart out every time she looked at it. Leah lifted it carefully and held it before her. She nearly dropped it when a noise from outside startled her, a loud clank, followed by a rattle. The washtub had been blown from its hook by the wind.

  The hat was more brown than black, with a pencil roll brim, well creased, and a silk band inside. Nate had been very proud of his hat. The outer band was of braided leather strips with silver pressed around the tips of the ends. It wasn’t a hat for a preacher, yet for some reason, Leah felt as if it would fit Cade perfectly. She carried it to the kitchen.

  “I thought you could use this,” she said as she put it on the table before him.

  He looked at it for a moment, his face wistful, and then he carefully picked it up and put it on. He bent his head forward and his fingers settled into the creases naturally. He wiggled it around a bit and it slid into place, a perfect fit. He smiled.

  “You look different,” Banks said.

  Her son was right. Even though Cade quickly took off the hat, she saw the effect. He seemed dangerous now. The eyes not so sad as much as deadly. A chill chased down her spine and she crossed her arms to counter it.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It will come in handy.”

  “You’re welcome.” She went to the stove and dished dinner onto their plates, surreptitiously stealing looks at Cade as she did. Something had changed. Something that scared her. She let Banks monopolize the conversation at dinner and Cade encouraged him as he rambled on about his day. When he was done she sent him to the parlor to do his reading.

  “Can we play soldiers then?” he asked Cade.

  “Sorry, Banks,” he replied. “I’ve got some reading to do too.” Was he finally preparing for his sermon now?

  Banks stuck his bottom lip out, ready to protest. “Go,” she said. “There’s plenty of time for play later. And make sure you feed Ashes.”

  Banks was sullen when he pushed his chair back. He poured milk from the crock and put it on the floor. Dodger looked at it hopefully as Banks stalked out of the room.

  “No,” Leah said firmly. She looked around for Ashes, who usually showed up as soon as the bowl hit the floor but she was nowhere to be found. “Was Ashes outside with you?”

  Cade stood at the counter, scraping plates. “No, I haven’t seen her since you came in. She didn’t go out with me.” She hadn’t. Leah recalled the cat sleeping on the sofa when she started dinner. As Cade left the kitchen he stopped and kissed her forehead. It was strange, how his kiss lingered and how quickly he turned away and left after, going into his room and firmly shutting the door behind him, leaving Dodger sitting in the hall with a strange look on his face. Dodger snuffed beneath the door before lying down with his nose at the crack with a heavy sigh.

  Leah went out the back door. She picked up the washtub and hung it back on the hook. “Kitty?” she called out. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty!” There was no sign of her, no answer except the howl of the wind. It was near dark now and downright gloomy.

  Leah went back inside. Cade’s door was still closed, Dodger still lay in the hall, Banks was pouting in the parlor and she felt ill at ease.

  “Are you sure you didn’t let Ashes outside?” she asked her son.

  “She might have gone out when I used the outhouse,” he mumbled.

  “Banks Nathan Findley!” Leah’s patience was gone. “Put your coat on and go outside and look for her.”

  “Aww…” Banks protested.

  “Now!” She had had enough. Between worry over Cade’s actions and Banks’s pouting and all the responsibility of trying to make a life for the two of them. And the big question that had suddenly come up to haunt her with a vengeance this day. Could she possibly have conceived a child?

  She needed to talk to Cade. She needed to know where she stood with him. The only way she could talk to him freely was if Banks was out of the house. Banks let Ashes out and she was his responsibility. It was time he started to learn what being responsible was all about.

  “It’s cold outside.” He stomped away. “I’m sleepy. I want to go to bed.”

  “And how do you think Ashes feels?” Leah pointed a finger at the back door.
“And no door slamming. Pastor Key is studying for his sermon on Sunday.” She didn’t mention that their yelling had more than likely already disturbed him. She was surprised that he hadn’t come out to see what the problem was.

  “Take a lantern,” she reminded Banks. “And Dodger.”

  She stood in the hallway and watched as he sighed and put his coat on. Sighed and pulled on his woolen cap. Sighed and got the lantern from the peg. Sighed when he opened the door and stepped out. “Come on Dodger,” he said with a sigh.

  Leah motioned for Dodger to go, and he got up, slowly and with his own sigh, as if he were taking lessons from Banks. He walked to the door with his tail firmly down and between his legs as if she had sent him out to be beaten.

  “Ashes!” Banks hollered as soon as he shut the door with exaggerated slowness.

  Leah rubbed her forehead. A headache was there, just waiting to settle in. She knocked on Cade’s door. “Cade?” No answer. “Cade? We need to talk.” She slowly opened the door, expecting to find him sitting on his bed, with his Bible open and deep in study.

  The room was empty. The Bible sat on the bedside table, where it had remained all week. She would have thought it hadn’t been moved except a folded piece of paper stuck out of the pages. His notes, she assumed, and a marked passage for his sermon. The pegs where his clothes hung were empty of everything except the shirt that belonged to Nate.

  She hadn’t heard him leave. Did he go out to search for Ashes when he heard her and Banks quarreling? Strange that he didn’t say anything, stranger that Dodger didn’t go with him, as the dog was devoted to him. And why hadn’t Dodger moved from his spot by the door? Did Cade step over him?

  Leah put a hand to her heart. For some reason, it suddenly hurt.

  Cade was lucky once more. The weather was perfect for his escape. The wind, which was fast enough to rattle the windows and doors, covered any noise he made and the half moon gave just enough light for him to see his way. Occasional clouds scuttled across the sky, which helped him to blend into the shadows. He wore the hat low over his face to hide the pale hue of his skin and the long coat, which moved with the wind, made him part of the landscape, if anyone so happened to come out of the back of their houses or look out the windows.