Angel

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Angel Page 6

by Danielle Carriere


  Then, one day, the kittens disappeared, and Nathan found the mother cat nursing a nasty gash on the side of her face. Angel spent hours searching for the kittens before finally giving up. Nathan never told Angel about the raccoon he had chased from the barn the evening before, and Angel never mentioned the kittens again. But sometimes, Nathan knew that that when Angel thought he wasn’t looking, she spent a few extra moments in the loft or glancing into the kittens’ favorite hiding places to make sure they really weren’t there.

  ***

  Nathan’s favorite time was the evenings, when the chores for the day were done and he and Angel would sit, sometimes talking, sometimes relaxing in easy silence. Often, Angel would sit close to the fire and use the light from its flames to read aloud from Jules Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth, which she told Nathan her parents had given her before the steamboat accident—something to remember France by, they had said.

  The animation in Angel’s voice when she was reading made Nathan smile. He had no way of knowing how many times Angel had read the book, but if he had to guess, judging by the degree of wear on the cover and the way Angel sometimes continued to speak the words of the book even when she had looked away from the pages to see Nathan’s reaction to a particularly exciting passage, he thought it must have been many, many times.

  While Angel was reading, Nathan would whittle, shaping small pieces of wood into tiny animals. Angel was always delighted by his carvings and had taken to lining them up on the mantle above the fireplace.

  And then sometimes, later in the evening when the fire was dying down, Nathan and Angel would sit, back to back with the heavy wooden door between them, and talk. It seemed so natural in the dark for their conversations to happen this way that it was only in the mornings that Nathan gave their arrangement a second thought. Even then, he only allowed the thought a moment’s presence before sloughing it off. If he allowed the thought to remain too long, Nathan was reminded of the strangeness of his and Angel’s arrangement, and he didn’t want to remember.

  Chapter 8

  I’ve hated my brother for almost as long as I can remember. I’ve hated him for living his life, and for stealing mine.

  ***

  Angel woke to the sound of horse hooves on the packed earth in front of the cabin and the jingling of harnesses. Nearly two weeks had passed since the snowstorm, and she had thought she was becoming used to the sounds of daily life here. This sound was less familiar.

  When Angel walked outside, she saw Nathan hitching the horses to the wagon. She squinted up at the bright blue sky as the sun glinted off the still present but slowly shrinking patches of snow.

  “Where are you going?” she asked as she drew nearer.

  “The road in is better shape, and you’ve settled in a bit more.” Nathan nodded as he tightened a strap. “Thought I’d head into town.”

  Into town. The words halted Angel’s footsteps and made her breath catch in her chest. She and Nathan had been so isolated since the snowstorm that Angel had almost forgotten there was a world outside the farm. She wasn’t sure she was ready to remember, to trade the security of their tiny world for whatever awaited them outside of it.

  “What are you going to do there?” Angel asked, forcing herself to speak normally.

  Nathan paused, checking the strap, then spoke as he rose. “Thought I’d go to church. Maybe find out about the train schedule.”

  “You’re going to church?” Angel asked, ignoring Nathan’s comment about the train for the time being. “Why?”

  Nathan shrugged, glancing at her. “When my father was still around, it was one of two places I knew he would never go. And it was the only place he never tried to stop me from going.”

  Angel couldn’t tell if Nathan was serious. It seemed a strange idea that he might joke about his father letting him go to church. However, of all the places to which she could imagine Nathan’s father encouraging attendance, church was not even a hastily scribbled afterthought following a long list of establishments of questionable nature.

  Nathan chuckled at Angel’s confusion and smiled sarcastically as he said, “Seems like people were more concerned about the salvation of my soul than my physical well-being. It was one thing for my father to take after me with his belt—that was his business. But for him to deny a willing soul the chance to hear the good word? Well, that would have been something else.”

  He paused, then shrugged. “I used to go to get away from him for a while. Now it’s something of a habit, I suppose. Do you want to come?”

  Angel hesitated. If Carl and Valentine had done their jobs well, everyone would already have heard that Nathan had been seen in the company of a strange girl. It would come as no surprise to anyone when she and Nathan arrived—together—in town. The only difference Angel expected her appearance would make is that it would replace the townspeople’s vague speculation with a clear target. Admittedly, that was not a prospect she looked forward to.

  On the other hand, Angel was not eager to remain at the cabin by herself. As terrified as she was at the idea of venturing out from the sanctuary she and Nathan had created for themselves over the last couple weeks, the thought of remaining alone at the cabin scared her even more.

  In the end, Angel climbed onto the wagon seat beside Nathan. Nathan clucked his tongue to the horses, and they pulled forward.

  “Where was the second place your father wouldn’t go?” Angel asked.

  Nathan glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “The graveyard.”

  “Your father won’t go into graveyards?” Angel asked.

  Nathan shook his head. “Not all graveyards, I think. Just the one here in town. My mother is buried there.” He paused, then added, “Maybe he’s afraid of her ghost.”

  “Why would he be afraid of her ghost?” Angel asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember much about her.”

  Nathan’s hands tightened on the reins, and Angel knew there was something more that Nathan wasn’t saying, but she changed the subject.

  “What is it going to be like?”

  Nathan looked confused at the sudden shift in the conversation. “What will what be like?”

  “Church. The people. What will they be like?”

  Nathan didn’t answer right away. Even though she wasn’t surprised by his response, Angel felt the tension begin to creep back into her body.

  “Some of them might not be too welcoming,” he admitted.

  “Then why are we going?”

  Nathan glanced at her. “I told you why I’m going. You wanted to come with me, so a better question would probably be why you are going.”

  Angel was silent. She wasn’t ready to admit to Nathan how much being alone still scared her, and she wasn’t ready to admit to herself that the idea of leaving on the train was beginning to lose its appeal.

  When she didn’t respond, Nathan said gently, “It will be okay.”

  ***

  As Angel stood looking at the rows of pews and the people who were slowly filling them, Nathan watched her inquiringly. Angel had paused in the entryway, and she guessed Nathan was wondering what was holding her back.

  She sighed, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress anxiously. It was a new dress, made just the month before, but as she stood outside the church building, the fabric felt uncomfortably tight against her skin. Would anyone notice? And if they did, what would they think?

  It wasn’t what they would say to her face. It was the words they would whisper just barely loud enough for her to hear as she walked by. Their words wouldn’t place the dagger—it had been there so long Angel could hardly remember a time it hadn’t been buried uncomfortably between her shoulder blades. But they would twist it deeper.

  She slowly raised her eyes to meet Nathan’s, answering the question he had not asked. “I believe in Christ. I’m just not sure I believe in Christians.”

  Nathan raised an eyebrow, and Angel wasn’t sure whether he looked amused or shocke
d. She shrugged. At the resigned motion, one corner of Nathan’s mouth lifted slightly.

  “You’ll have to face them sometime. Might as well be here. There’s something about being inside a church. If nothing else, it has a . . . tempering influence.”

  Angel shrugged again, and Nathan nodded, motioning her to walk on. They made their way into the white building and sat down on a smooth wooden pew in the back row. From there, Angel watched the people filter through the doors. Some glanced inquiringly at her before nodding briefly to Nathan and moving on. Others were more appraising, and Angel struggled to keep from fidgeting as an uncomfortable warmth spread across her body.

  She was so distracted that it took her several minutes to notice Nathan’s silence. When she did notice, she looked curiously at him, only to see his jaw tightened and his eyes fixed on the front of the room. Angel followed his gaze and was startled to find herself in direct eye contact with a woman who looked oddly familiar. The woman’s eyes were narrowed, and as Angel watched, she turned and spoke to the man standing beside her.

  The man had to bend down slightly to hear her. He was much taller than the woman, and he too looked oddly familiar. As the woman finished speaking, the man glanced at Angel and Nathan, nodding.

  The actions of the man and woman seemed to draw the attention of a young woman sitting in the front pew; she turned to search the faces of the people sitting in the rows behind her. When her eyes finally landed on Nathan, she smiled and waved enthusiastically. Nathan’s glower disappeared for a moment as he nodded slightly to her—more acknowledgement than he had given the older couple. The older woman laid her hand on the shoulder of the young woman who had waved, and she turned around to once again face the front of the room.

  “Who are they?” Angel asked.

  “They must have just come into town. When I heard the old preacher and his wife were leaving, I didn’t realize Clark and Olivia would be taking their place.”

  Nathan did not look happy with his realization.

  “You are acquainted with them?” Angel asked.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “They look familiar,” Angel commented. “I wonder if I should recognize them from somewhere?”

  “I hope not,” Nathan muttered, but when Angel looked at him questioningly, he didn’t offer any additional information.

  “How do you know them?”

  Nathan stared ahead at the front of the room. As Angel glanced again toward the couple holding Nathan’s attention, she saw the woman appear to meet Nathan’s eyes and give a slight nod. Without acknowledging the woman’s gesture, Nathan abruptly turned to Angel and spoke.

  “Sisters married brothers. Olivia is my mother’s sister,” Nathan spoke darkly. “And Clark is my father’s brother. Felicity is their daughter.”

  Now it was Angel’s turn to stare, first at Nathan and then at the couple. The odd familiarity suddenly made sense. As she looked back and forth from Nathan to his aunt and uncle, she couldn’t keep the astonishment from her voice.

  “Why wouldn’t they tell you they were coming?” Angel asked.

  Nathan shrugged. “I haven’t seen or heard from them in years. Why would they?”

  ***

  The air was filled with quiet noises—the shifting of the congregation, the squeaking of the pews, the buzzing of a fly in the window behind them. Nathan wondered how he could at once be so focused on the man at the front of the room and yet hear none of the words he was speaking. The man’s mouth was moving, but it seemed to move muddily, and both the shapes and sounds of the words were blurred.

  Nathan thought his own expression must have carried a scowl, because once, and only once, the man had looked directly at Nathan and seemed to be thrown out of the rhythm of his sermon. He had paused, open-mouthed, before quickly looking down at his notes to regain his place.

  Clark and Olivia. His aunt and uncle. The words left a bad taste in Nathan’s mouth, and he resisted saying them, even in his mind. If he spoke them, it felt like both an acknowledgement and revival of family ties that had long been dead, and Nathan cared to do neither. Felicity, his cousin, was not so bad, but Nathan guessed whatever the reason for her presence, she wouldn’t be staying long. Not much older than Nathan himself, Felicity had always been more independent than her mother and father would have preferred.

  Angel sat beside Nathan, furtively shooting him sidelong glances. He felt more than saw the pricks of her curiosity, and he closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against his fists. To anyone who happened to look his way, he might appear to be praying. The thought made Nathan smile with dark amusement. His head was bowed over hands clenched in anger, not prayer. Why had his aunt and uncle come back? They had been gone for so long.

  ***

  When the sermon ended, Nathan stood to stretch, and Angel followed suit, grateful for the opportunity to allow motion to dispel some of the tension she felt. Almost immediately, Felicity made her way through the congregation to stand beside Nathan and Angel.

  “Felicity,” Nathan nodded. Angel watched him closely. He spoke stiffly as he greeted the woman, but without any of the animosity he had held toward his aunt and uncle.

  Felicity, on the other hand, had no such inhibitions. “Cousin Nathan,” she smiled warmly, “it is good to see you again.”

  Nathan smiled in response to Felicity’s openness. “What brings you all the way out here? Besides the obvious, I mean.” Nathan nodded toward the front of the room where Clark and Olivia still remained.

  “I accepted a teaching position farther west. Mama and Papa had already decided to come here, so I decided to travel with them. I’ll only be staying here for a few days—I’ll start teaching next week.”

  “And how do Clark and Olivia feel about you taking that job?” Nathan asked. Felicity hesitated, and Nathan grinned. “None too happy, I’m guessing?”

  Felicity glanced at her parents, then smiled and laughed reluctantly. “No, but they will get used to the idea.”

  Abruptly changing the subject, Felicity turned toward Angel and said, “Since my cousin seems to have forgotten to introduce us—”

  Nathan interrupted in protest, but Felicity ignored him and kept speaking. “We will have to do so ourselves. As you have probably guessed, I am Felicity. Nathan and I are cousins.”

  Angel smiled. “Yes, you and Nathan look so alike. I should have guessed you were related.”

  Felicity nodded. “I’ve heard that often.” She laughed lightly. “But I suppose that is to be expected when sisters marry brothers. Mama always says I look a bit of her and a lot of my father, but I don’t see it. I think the family resemblance becomes more apparent when you see us all together—not that you would ever want to see that.” Here, she made a wide gesture with her arms, and Angel thought Felicity must have meant to include herself and her parents, as well as Nathan and his parents in her imaginary circle.

  “But you still haven’t told me your name,” Felicity gently reminded Angel.

  Angel began speaking out of reflex. “My name is Angel. And I’m glad to meet you.”

  And here, Angel stopped speaking. She could tell from Felicity’s expectant expression that she was waiting for an explanation of how Angel knew her cousin. Angel glanced at Nathan, who shrugged.

  Felicity watched the uncomfortable exchange, waited a brief moment, and then prodded. “How did you make my cousin’s acquaintance?”

  Angel opened her mouth, then closed it, trying to find a way to explain to Felicity that she and Nathan had met seven years ago on the front steps of a saloon—an explanation that would surely lead to the fact that she was now staying at Nathan’s home—when Nathan’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “She’s staying with me.”

  Eyebrows raised, Felicity turned to Nathan. “That’s an . . . interesting arrangement,” Felicity said slowly.

  Nathan shrugged again. “She needed help.”

  Felicity considered Angel for a moment. Then her expression sof
tened as she spoke. “Well then, you went to the right person.”

  Shock drove the ability to speak from Angel’s mouth, and before Angel could think of a response to Felicity’s statement, Clark and Olivia appeared to stand on either side of their daughter.

  “Nathan,” Olivia said, nodding to him. He nodded stiffly back. Olivia then turned to Angel. “I believe I have yet to make your acquaintance, dear.”

  Once again, Angel found herself unsure and her tongue tied. Nathan clearly held Clark and Olivia in contempt. Angel felt as though she had been awkwardly deposited into the middle of an argument she knew nothing about and was now afraid to offend either party, completely unaware what had transpired to bring about the argument in the first place.

  Felicity, noticing Angel’s discomfort, interjected, “Mama, Papa, this is Angel. She is staying with Nathan. She needed help.”

  Olivia’s eyebrows shot up, and suddenly Angel could clearly see the resemblance between Olivia and Felicity. Clark gritted his teeth and turned to face Nathan, who closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead, and muttered, “Oh, Felicity.”

  Angel fought the urge to draw closer to Nathan as Clark’s expression darkened. Clark pounced on Nathan’s words, speaking tersely while keeping his voice low to avoid attracting attention from the remaining members of the congregation as they exited the building. “Did you expect Felicity to keep this from us?”

  “No,” Nathan growled, “but—”

  “This is neither the time nor the place,” Clark said, cutting Nathan off. “We will discuss this later.”

  “Discuss?” Nathan asked quietly.

  Clark, appearing not to notice Nathan’s tone, continued on unabashed. “Yes, we will discuss the . . . impropriety . . . of your situation later.”

 

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