Copyright © 2019 by Danielle E. Carriere
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by reviewers, who may quote brief passages in a review.
ISBN 978-1-7329095-1-9 (Paperback Edition)
ISBN 978-1-7329095-2-6 (Ebook)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by ZoeDrawsThings
Printed and bound in the United States of America
Published by Moxie Books
www.moxie-books.com
Visit the author’s website: www.danielle-carriere.com
Dedication
To Mom and Dad, for giving me courage.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 1
I saved my brother’s life once. Every day since then, I’ve wished I let him die. Does that make me more like Cain or Abel, I wonder?
***
NEBRASKA, 1880
Nathan crossed his arms, leaned back against the wooden post behind him, and surveyed the dust-choked street with guarded eyes. The buildings of the small town blocked any breath of wind that might have ventured to pass through, and the air felt stagnant and dirty. Nathan cast a glance over his shoulder at the pristine white front of the general store. It looked newly painted, but no amount of fresh paint would ever cover up the distaste Nathan felt for this place.
The saloon across the street was lifeless. It had been lifeless when Nathan arrived in town to submit his claim for a land deed, and now, less than a day later, its state had not improved. Nathan suspected the saloon had not been frequented by patrons for some time. It was funny how a building so empty could hold so many memories.
For several long moments, Nathan warred with himself. It had been seven years since he had last passed through Oklada. Seven years since he had spent an afternoon outside the saloon while his father drank inside. Seven years since he had met Angel.
She had been a child then, only a few years younger than Nathan himself. In the years since, Nathan had sworn he would never return to Oklada, and it was only out of necessity that Nathan found himself here once again. Even so, he couldn’t deny the pull the empty saloon had held over him since he had arrived.
Nathan turned and walked into the general store, removing his hat as he entered. He needed answers.
The owner of the store smiled as Nathan approached the counter, hat in hand. “What can I help you to find?”
Nathan shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m only looking for information today.”
The owner continued smiling. “Well, time is money, but talk is cheap, and information is free. What can I help you with?”
Nathan took a deep breath, then said, “I’d like to know how long the saloon has been closed.”
The owner’s eyes narrowed, growing calculating, but his smile remained. The combination gave him a hungry, wolfish look. “It’s been closed for a couple months now. The owner was shot. Some sort of disagreement that got out of hand.”
Nathan considered the man’s words for a moment before asking, “There was a girl. Angel?”
The storekeeper gave him a look so filthy it made Nathan want to wash his hands clean of the question he had asked.
“Son, just how well did you know her—Angel?” The shopkeeper chose his words carefully, deliberately.
Nathan replied in like measure. “I only ever knew her name and part of her story.”
The shopkeeper relaxed, then leaned forward, speaking in a conspiratorial tone. “Well then, I’ll tell you, man to man, there’s at least one man who knew her better than you, if you take my meaning.”
Nathan understood. “Man to man”—his words were curt—“should I take your meaning to understand you knew her well?”
The storekeeper’s eyes widened under his rising eyebrows, and his words nearly tripped over themselves in his hurried denial. “Oh, good heavens, no.” He cast furtive glances around himself, then stated emphatically, “My wife and I are very happily married. Very happily.”
Nathan nodded absently, then asked, “Where is she now?”
“My wife?” asked the storekeeper in surprise. At Nathan’s withering glance, the man gave a forced laugh, then said, “Oh yes, of course, the girl.”
The storekeeper paused, then shrugged. “I don’t rightly know.” He scrubbed thoughtfully at his beard. “She came in here two, maybe three days ago. Wanted to buy some supplies. Looked like she might be readying herself to move on and find a new place to settle. No one’s seen her since.”
Nathan waited for the storekeeper to continue, but when the man said nothing more, Nathan said, “I’m much obliged for the information. I’ll be on my way now.”
Snapping out of his daze, the storekeeper spoke sympathetically. “Son, I think I know how you feel, but you’re better off without her. Those females—they’re silly, unreliable things.”
Already halfway through the door, Nathan paused, then bit his tongue and kept walking. No matter. The saloon was closed, Angel was gone, Nathan had gotten the land deed he had come for, and one way or the other, he would not be coming back to this place.
Nathan climbed into the wagon, then clucked his tongue and lifted the reins of the team in front of him. The wagon creaked forward with a jolting motion. The team of horses quickly found their natural rhythm, and Nathan found himself settling into the familiar rock and sway of the wagon. He relaxed his hold on the leather reins and leaned back, resting a foot on the board in front of him. The horses knew their way home and were eager be there—they needed little guidance on the return trip.
The sun filtered down through the green leaves above, casting dancing shadows on the earth of the road. The sunlight still carried the familiar sweetness of summer smells and warmth, but the shadows underneath held an almost imperceptible chill, a reminder of the approaching fall.
Unlike past years, the whisper of colder weather did not fill Nathan with apprehension. It had been a good year and a productive warm season. He had chinked the cracks in the walls of his cabin and patched a hole in the roof of the barn. Both would be warm and cozy when the snow and cold winds came. He had plenty of firewood and feed for the animals. He had wheat to make flour, a root cellar stocked full of potatoes and carrots, apples and onions, beets and squash, and plenty of smoked venison to last through the winter season. He was confident that, for the first time he could remember in all of his nineteen years, it would be a comfortable winter. It was amazing how far money could go when it wasn’t being squandered on liquor.
As the wagon rounded the first curve in the road and the town—now only a speck on the horizon—fell out of view behind Nathan, a female figure appeared on the road ahead, walking with her back toward him.
Angel. Even though Nathan knew the girl on the road couldn’t be Angel—if what the storekeeper had said was true, Angel would be miles away by now—the thought came to his mind unbidden. He immediately forced it away, but it lodged stubbornly in his chest.
<
br /> Angel.
Nathan had missed her by three days, maybe less, but he had no way of knowing where she was going or how far she could have traveled in three days’ time. Maybe if distance had been the only obstacle, Nathan would have allowed himself to wonder whether he might still be able to find her. But now, even though there were fewer miles between them than there had been in years, as far as Nathan was concerned, he and Angel were just as far apart as they had always been.
Nathan clenched his jaw and let out a disgusted breath, fighting to hear against the dull roar that had filled his ears ever since the shopkeeper in the town had spoken the words, “I’ll tell you, man to man . . .”
The words rubbed raw like a burr under a horse’s saddle blanket. Nathan didn’t know what else he had expected. Angel had been a child when he had met her seven years ago, but she would have since grown up. And with her uncle owning the saloon, well, it shouldn’t have been surprising that she would have followed in his footsteps.
Nathan shook his head. Nearly at the same time, the mare on the left shook her head as though she were ridding herself of a pesky fly, causing the buckles on the harness to jangle and Nathan to realize that in his frustration he had been unintentionally pulling back on the reins. He forced himself to relax, and the horses again settled into a steady rhythm.
The distance between the wagon and the girl slowly closed until they were nearly side by side. Nathan wouldn’t have given the girl a second glance, but as he drew up behind her, she stepped off to the side of the road to let him pass. She raised a hand to shield her eyes as she watched him, and the movement drew his attention. He knew he should offer her a ride, but he guiltily tried to ignore the thought—the last thing he wanted was to stop and talk to anyone—but once the thought entered his mind, it refused to be pushed out.
Nathan sighed and rubbed his knuckles against the bridge between his eyes, then pulled back on the reins and spoke to stop the horses. They shuffled their feet impatiently, causing the metal buckles in the harness to jangle, but they stood in place. The girl faced him as the wagon halted next to her, her bonnet keeping Nathan from seeing her face in its entirety.
Nathan spoke without enthusiasm, hoping the girl would decline his offer. “Can I give you a ride somewhere, Miss?”
“That depends a great deal on where you are going.”
The young woman’s tone was polite but cool, and Nathan cringed internally, knowing that in his voice she had heard the irritation he felt. Nathan nodded in the direction his team was facing, then spoke, trying to force some note of warmth into his voice. “Right now, it looks like the same way you are.”
The girl paused for a moment, her gaze following the empty dirt road stretching out in front of them. Nathan suspected she knew there were a good few miles from where they stood to the next town. As reluctant as she might be to accept his offer of help, he knew she would—there was neither a graceful exit to the situation nor a reason to create one.
She nodded slightly. “Much obliged.”
Nathan reached a hand down to help the girl into the wagon. She accepted his offer, lightly placing her hand in his and raising a foot to rest on one of the spokes of the front wheel. Nathan’s muscles tensed as he braced himself to lift her into the wagon, and the girl looked up, preparing to step away from the ground. As she did so, the sun caught her face beneath the shadow of her bonnet. A jolt of recognition flashed through Nathan, and a memory he had tried to push into the back corners of his mind, one that had simultaneously tormented and sustained him over the past seven years, rushed forward to claim its place.
***
“Angel?” twelve-year-old Nathan scoffed. “Is that your real name?”
All wide, brown eyes, the girl Angel met his gaze with earnest curiosity. “It is. Don’t you like it?”
In that moment, something shifted inside of Nathan, and he wanted nothing more than to protect that wide-eyed innocence. His voice softened. “Nah, it’s a fine name.”
Nathan’s words were rewarded with a slight smile. Then, her expression suddenly growing intent, Angel said, “Horsefly. Don’t move,” and with a familiarity that didn’t seem to cause her a moment’s pause, she slapped Nathan’s back.
“Got him,” Angel said with satisfaction.
Her gesture took Nathan by surprise, and he was unprepared for the pain that lanced through his body at her touch. Nathan flinched, then caught himself, glancing around to see who might be watching.
Angel jerked her hand away. “What’s wrong? What did I do? I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” The apologies spilled rapidly from Angel’s lips until Nathan smiled faintly and waved a dismissive hand. He knew his smile didn’t move past the stiff muscles of his cheeks—his teeth were still gritted from the shock of pain—but it was the best he could manage.
“It’s nothing. My back’s just tore up some.”
His attempt to dismiss Angel’s concern was in vain, and the furrow between her brows deepened. “Let me see.”
Nathan shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
But the concern on Angel’s face remained, an insistent question lingering in her eyes, and Nathan knew she would persist either until Nathan left or until he told her what she wanted to know.
Nathan closed his eyes and let out a long breath of air. Even if he would have had somewhere else to go, he was too tired to do so. As he saw it, that left him with three options. He could tell her a lie she wouldn’t believe. He could tell her the truth and leave no doubt. Or, he could show her the truth and let her draw her own conclusions.
Nathan opened his eyes to again meet Angel’s curious stare. Glancing around to make sure no one was near, he reached around to raise the back of his shirt just high enough for her to see skin laced with lacerations and darkened with deep, ugly bruises in various stages of healing. Angel exhaled softly, and at that small noise, Nathan jerked his shirt back down.
“It’s nothing. It’ll heal.”
Nathan wanted to be able to laugh, to explain and shrug her worries away, and to tell her a story about falling out of trees, or off horses or barns, or anything but the truth. But it was too late. Angel turned her eyes toward the doors of the saloon they sat in front of, and Nathan knew she had already seen more than he’d intended to show. When she turned back to meet his gaze, Nathan looked away, giving a tight nod to confirm what Angel already knew. His father.
Angel paused and then, raising a finger indicating for him to wait, rose and walked back inside. She returned with a small jar. “Turn around,” she commanded.
“What is that?” he asked.
Angel raised an eyebrow and, placing one hand on her hip, motioned with the other hand—still holding the mysterious jar—for him to turn. She looked uncannily matronly for someone so young. Nathan hesitated, then turned so that his back was toward her, and slowly pulled up his shirt again. He braced himself for the sting of alcohol, but as she began to smooth the salve on his wounded back, he felt only the unfamiliar sensation of pain leaving his body. His shoulders untensed, and he began to breathe again—he hadn’t even realized he had stopped.
When she finished, he slowly pulled his shirt back down. He had expected the feeling of coarse fibers catching on raw skin, but instead, the salve created a slight, soft barrier. To his torn back, it felt like heaven.
The thought left his lips almost as soon as it entered into his head. “You really are an angel.”
Chapter 2
A few years later, my brother saved my life. Maybe he thought that made us even, but saving my life was no favor. I would have been better off if he would have let me die that day—I ran out of reasons to live a long time ago.
***
The memory seemed to last for ages. In reality, it had lasted only a few seconds. Angel’s eyes widened in shock as she recognized Nathan, and forgetting that her foot rested on the wheel of the wagon and not the ground, she pulled her hand from his and tried to step back, stumbling and nearly losing her balance. Nathan gues
sed that with the sun behind him, Angel had not recognized him until she had reached out to take his hand and stepped into his shadow—the same moment he had recognized her.
“What are you doing here?” Nathan’s voice rasped as the question passed his lips. He remembered asking a similar question years ago, but this time, his words were sharp, not sad.
Angel’s initial smile of recognition disappeared, then faded into a distance that Nathan knew mirrored his own. Her eyes hardened, creating a countenance so different from the wide-eyed openness he remembered that Nathan caught himself glaring back at her. He tried to relax the creases around his eyes, but only succeeded in uncomfortably raising both eyebrows.
Angel folded her arms across her chest and stepped backward as she answered his question. “Leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
Angel gave him a long, appraising look. When she spoke, it wasn’t in answer to his question. “I should be on my way. I have a long ways to go.”
“A long ways to go where?” Nathan pressed.
Angel looked down the road, the same direction she had been walking and that Nathan had been traveling, but her gaze focused far beyond any distant horizon either she or Nathan could have seen. She shook her head, then said simply, “Away.”
Nathan felt a flash of irritation, but a quick glance told him that Angel wasn’t trying to be evasive. There was no defiance in her eyes. Away was the truth as far as she knew it.
Nathan closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. “Do you still want a ride?” he asked curtly. As little as he wanted this conversation to continue, he couldn’t quite bring himself to drive away and leave her standing on the side of the road. Unless, as he hoped, Angel requested that he do exactly that.
Nathan watched Angel’s pride war with exhaustion. Practicality won out as she shifted her weight and winced, favoring one of her ankles. “Yes,” she said stiffly, “I would be grateful for the ride.”
Inwardly, Nathan groaned, but he offered her his hand again and, after slight hesitation, Angel took it and climbed onto the wagon and into the seat next to him. He lifted the reins, and the horses began their homeward journey once more.
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