Angel and the Texan From County Cork (The Brides of Texas Code Series Book 3)

by Carra Copelin

  He raised an eyebrow in question. “Smelly soap?”

  She giggled and explained, “Growing up, my friend, Cissie, and I would go to Hardinger’s store to smell the pretty soaps in the display. We started calling them smelly soaps and it stuck.”

  “I hope ye like it. The purple label said ‘French Lavender’ and, like I said, I wanted ye to have somethin’ pretty.”

  The moment was sweet and, suddenly, too serious. Thoughts of her friend brought out the imp in her and she sought a way to lighten the mood. “Wait a minute, Mr. O’Donnell, are you saying I stink?”

  “No, I’m not, in fact I like the way ye—”

  She clasped her hands together and laughed out loud.

  “Ah, Colleen, ye have the way of the Devil’s bride in ye for sure. I’ll remember that.”

  “It’s been a long time since I joked or teased, and it felt good,” she admitted. “I couldn’t resist.” She also liked the thought that he liked the way she smelled. Since she had no pretty smelling colognes, she’d hold onto what he’d almost said.

  “A bit of the blarney is good for the soul.”

  “Hold on.” She stood quickly and ran into the bedroom to her dresser. When she returned, she held out a present wrapped in a colorful piece of cotton flannel. “Here, Merry Christmas.”

  A grin lit his face as he untied the four corners of the hemmed cloth to reveal more of the same inside. “What’s this?”

  “A little something for you.” Angel didn’t have to tell him she’d made the handkerchiefs for Will. He could figure that out for himself. “I hope you can use them.”

  “Always, thanks.” He ran his hand across the folded cloths. After a couple of minutes, Jamey broke the silence. “Ye look about as done in as I feel.”

  As if on cue, she yawned. “It has been a long day.”

  “There are decisions to be made about our future, and we have to figure out what’s to be done about our neighbor and others makin’ veiled threats.”

  “I know. I’d sure feel better if Marshal Handley was involved.”

  “He will be. We’ll take no steps without the marshal’s knowledge.”

  “That’s good.” Jamey seemed to have a level head on his shoulders and she silently thanked Will for having enough sense to ask for his help.

  Jamey stood, stirred the fire, and put another log on to last the night. “Shall we turn in?”

  “Yes.” Angel didn’t move toward the bedroom when he laid down on his makeshift bed. The other room seemed so far away and for some reason she didn’t want to be alone tonight. “Jamey?”

  “Aye, Colleen?”

  “May I lay beside you for a while?”

  “Tis the heavens I’ll be thanking for another Christmas gift.” He made room for her on the blankets.

  She lay down beside him, her head in the crook of his arm. Snuggling close to his side, she asked, “Jamey?”

  “Aye, Colleen?”

  “Will you tell me about yourself tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Mid-morning the following day, Angel hung the last bit of laundry she’d washed and rinsed over the ladder back chair. Every object that could be moved close to the fire and oven was draped with wet clothing. Jamey had brought in two tubs for her to use. She hoped to use the larger one to take a bath in later this evening.

  She looked forward to using the lavender soap Jamey had given her for Christmas. He’d completely taken her by surprise. She’d seen the display at Krutchmeyer’s store the day before yesterday and admired it. The fragrance smelled heavenly and, if she could, she hoped to wash her hair, too. The thought of feeling clean and smelling pretty again lifted her spirits.

  The fact she’d slept better last night than she had in months didn’t hurt either. She’d woken up in his arms in practically the same position as when she’d fallen asleep. He’d been watching her when she stirred. She warmed at the remembrance.

  Voices out in the yard interrupted her thoughts. Angel looked out the window in time to see Jamey greeting Marshal Handley and Doc Fraser. Slipping her coat around her shoulders, she went out onto the porch.

  Doc Fraser jumped from the buggy with the ease of a much younger man. When he reached her, he took her hand. “Angel, I’m sorry about Will. He was a good man and he didn’t deserve this.”

  “Thanks.” She knew he didn’t have the benefit of her recent discoveries, but she appreciated the sentiment.

  “Doc?” Jamey called to him. “The root cellar’s this way. Marshal?”

  She had a pot of hot coffee on the stove when the three men finished their task of examining Will’s body. She’d managed to clear enough spots for them to sit, so when they came inside, each one took a seat.

  The steaming liquid did little to warm her and the silence that filled the room made her apprehension almost as great as her fear of Curly Radley. Finally, unable to stand the wait any longer, she said, “So, Doc, what’s your ruling?”

  “It’s my belief Will was murdered. Although I don’t know the nature of the circumstances leading up to the shooting.” He splayed his hands out palms up. “I’ll leave the why up to the Marshal. But his wounds were deliberate.”

  The starch went out of her. She’d known Will had been murdered, she’d seen where he’d been shot in the back. Hearing it said out loud by Doc Fraser somehow made it more real, more final.

  Jamey reached over and covered her clinched hands. They were white-knuckled and ice cold. He took over for her, asking the necessary questions.

  “So Marshal what’ve ye found?”

  “So far nothing’s come to light, but I’ll keep asking around and see what I can find out.”

  “What if I could give ye some direction?”

  “I’d be much obliged, O’Donnell.”

  Jamey straightened in his chair and rested his elbows on the table. Glancing at Angel then back at Handley, he said, “We had a visitor yesterday.”

  “That’s so?”

  “Aye, when I came in from the barn, Curly Radley sat here at this table bothering my wife.” He squeezed her hands and gave her a half-smile. “Supposedly he was here for Cleve Moran to let us know he’d left town for a while, but I got the impression Curly had his own agenda.”

  “Did he say anything or make any direct threats?”

  “Not specifically to me, but—”

  “He told me not to get too comfortable having my new husband around.”

  “Go on, Colleen, tell him the rest.” Jamey urged.

  She hesitated slightly then continued, “That’s not the first time he’s been here, Marshal.”

  Handley sat up and watched her intently. “I’m listening.”

  “Starting after the first of this year, Mr. Radley showed up every few weeks or so, usually when Will was gone from the house. He never did anything, he just made me ill at ease.”

  “I don’t understand why Will didn’t tell me about it.”

  “He said he wanted to handle the matter himself.”

  “I have one more thing that might interest you, Marshal.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Yesterday, Radley was riding Will’s horse, Bull.”

  “Jamey?” Angel’s startled look pinned him to his seat.

  He’d meant to tell her about it last night, but he hadn’t gotten around to it. He fully regretted that mistake, but he had to tell the Marshal now.

  “I’d say that’s a fairly significant bit of information.” Marshal Handley stood, his hat in his hand. “Doc, I think I’ll head over to Moran’s place and see what I can find out.” To Angel, he said, “Thank you for the coffee and a chunk of fire.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  Doc Fraser stood, too, and walked to the door. “I need to check on a couple of folks on my way back to town. I’ll see you tomorrow with my written report.”

  Jamey and Angel walked outside with the two men. Jamey stepped into the yard to have a short conversation wi
th the marshal then shook hands with both of the men while she waited on the porch.

  Marshal Handley stopped beside his horse and took something from his saddle bag. “Oh, I forgot to bring these in to you earlier.” Walking back to the porch, he handed Angel a small bundle of letters tied together with twine.

  “Thank you, Marshal. I haven’t been in to town to get our mail in a while and didn’t think of it the other day.”

  “You’re welcome.” He tipped the brim of his hat between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll be in touch with my findings.”

  Jamey watched until Marshal Handley and Doc Fraser were mere pin dots on the road that led from their cabin to the main road to town. He dreaded facing her about Will’s horse. Yes, he should’ve told her what he’d seen but he felt she’d experienced enough for one day. Now she was surely hurt that he hadn’t told her or was just plain mad.

  Like dealing with the women in his family, he was better off talking things over with her sooner than later. He braced himself to explain, but when he turned to face her, she had disappeared inside the cabin. Not knowing if this was a good or bad sign, he opted to work on his outside chores to give her a little more time.

  He heard the voice in his head echo “coward” as he walked around to the wood pile. He couldn’t call this his finest hour.

  ***

  Angel dragged both tubs in turn through the front door and onto the porch. With no small amount of effort, she managed to dump the used water off to the side of the porch so ice wouldn’t form around the entrance. That was a chore she should’ve saved for her husband when he got back to the house. But she was so upset with him, she’d needed to work off her mad.

  She thought longingly about that bath she’d promised herself but her displeasure with Jamey not telling her about Bull just wouldn’t allow her to enjoy it. Back inside the warm cabin, she picked up the bar of soap, closed her eyes, and smelled the heavenly fragrance one more time.

  “If ye’re not careful, ye’ll sniff all the pretty right out of it.”

  “Oh, good gussie, Jamey, you scared me to death!”

  He chuckled and reached for her. “Sorry, Colleen.”

  Twisting away, she faced him. Her anger simmered so close to the surface she wouldn’t have been surprised if steam hadn’t come out of her ears. “Why didn’t you tell me Curly Radley was riding Will’s horse yesterday?”

  “I was goin’ to, but ye were so upset after he left, I thought it best to wait until a better time.”

  She crossed her arms and stared at him. “Do you think me weak and unable to handle adversity?”

  “Far from it. Ye’re one of the strongest women I know.” Reaching out, he took hold of her hand. “If we were given the opportunity to relive yesterday though, I’d make the same decision.”

  She didn’t know what to do with that statement. To her mind he still thought her mentally weak. Taking back her hand, she picked up the bundle of mail. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to read these now.”

  “I just came in to let ye know I’ll be finishin’ up outside before I come in for the night.”

  “Fine.” He could take as long as he wanted for all she cared. “We’re not finished with this conversation.”

  “Fine.”

  She jumped when he pulled the door shut behind him with a thunk. She closed her eyes at his show of Irish temper. He hadn’t yet seen the full scope of her own temper or stubborn nature.

  Closing the door to the bedroom, she sat on the bed and flipped through the stack of letters. The top one was from a law office in Dallas, “ARCHER BENNING ASSOC”. She recognized the name of Benning as that of Will’s friend and Jamey’s brother-in-law. The next one was smaller in size and addressed to Will by Will. She ran her fingers over the scrawl, wondering what he would have sent to himself. But the letter she opened first came from Ohio.

  Eagerly, she tore open the envelope and skimmed quickly over the pages promising herself to go back later and savor the precious words in detail. She stopped on the last paragraph and drew in a quick breath. It couldn’t be true.

  “Jamey!” she squealed. Jumping up, she ran into the main room leaving the other missives scattered on the floor.

  He entered, closing the door firmly behind him. Rubbing his hands together, he said, “It’s still freezin’ but not quite as cold as yesterday.” When he removed his coat, he looked her way. His brows drew together in apparent concern. “Colleen? What’s wrong?”

  She realized she stood in the middle of the room bouncing up and down with the pages fisted in her hands and clutched to her chest. Tears were streaming down her face. “You’ll never guess the news.”

  “No, but it would be good if you could explain it to me. What’ve ye got?”

  Twirling in place one more time, she stopped, and smiled wide. “My best friend is coming from Ohio. I can’t believe it.”

  “The girl ye told me about?”

  “Yes.” She hadn’t read past the sentence that said they were coming. She didn’t yet know why or when. Straightening the crinkled stationary, she read the particulars out loud. “Let’s see, she says, if all goes well, they’ll be here a day or two after Christmas to visit and to look for a place to live.

  “It seems her husband has a desire to live in Texas.” She swiped at the joyful tears and smiled. “I can’t believe it.”

  “They could be here at any time then.”

  “Yes, they could. I’ll get busy in the morning getting ready.” Her mind was spinning in too many directions to think properly. There were so many things to do. She had to put the clothes away that she’d washed, switch the furniture back to its original place, and cook enough food to last a couple of days.

  “Now that Marshal Handley and Doc have been here to examine Will, we need to get him buried as soon as possible. I’m sure ye’d like to have that done before yer friend gets here.” After a few seconds, he asked, “Do ye still want him under the trees out front?”

  “Yes, I do. That was his choice.”

  “Good, then I’ll get started early in the mornin’ diggin’ the grave.”

  Angel’s happy mood deflated. Suddenly, her giddy light-hearted mood for her friend’s arrival disappeared with talk of her husband’s funeral. And no matter how upset she was with Jamey, he was right, of course. Will should be laid to rest before too much longer.

  Suddenly exhausted again, she folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope. She slid it into the pocket of her skirt and walked quietly to the bedroom. At the door, she turned and said, “I haven’t forgiven you, but I can help you tomorrow if you need me. Good night.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jamey leaned against the handle of the shovel to stretch and rest his back. It had taken him the better part of the morning to fashion a casket from the walls of an empty stall in the barn and to dig the spot of ground under the oak tree for his friend's final resting place. He hated to ask but he was just about at the point where he needed Angel’s help.

  He’d left her sleeping soundly when he’d come out after sun up. She hadn’t popped her head out of the cabin all morning so he figured, aside from cleaning, she must still be angry with him over his choosing to keep information from her. He didn’t hold out much hope that talking would change her mind either. She wasn’t going to understand he’d wanted to protect her as much as he could. That was the problem with an independent, stubborn woman.

  A horse and rider caught his attention. As they neared, he recognized the man he’d come to like and respect in the short time he’d been here. He set the shovel against the tree.

  “Marshal, I didn’t expect to see ye back here so soon. Is everythin’ all right?”

  Handley dismounted and glanced around. “Hard to say, but I wanted to stop on my way back to town to tell you what I know.” He walked around his horse to stand by Jamey. “You didn’t waste any time getting the grave dug. Could you use some help?”

  “Sure’n I won’t be turnin’ any help away.
I can use ye to get the body into the box and into the ground if ye have the time.”

  “I do.” He clapped Jamey on the shoulder. “While we’re working, I’ll fill you in.”

  Jamey rubbed his gloved hands together to rid them of excess dirt. “Much obliged. I’ve moved the wagon by the root cellar door to make it easier to carry Will out here.”

  “Let’s get to it.”

  Walking side-by-side, Jamey quizzed Marshal Handley. “You made it over to Moran’s ranch last night like you planned?”

  “I did. I talked to a few of the hands about Radley but nobody’s willing to speak against him.”

  “Was he there? What’d he have to say?”

  “Radley said the horse strayed up to Moran’s ranch with just a saddle and nothing else.”

  “No saddle bags, blankets . . . nothin’?”

  “Said he didn’t know where the horse had come from or who he belonged to.”

  “That’s a load of blarney, he—”

  Handley held up his hands, palms facing Jamey. “Take it easy, O’Donnell, I recognized Will’s saddle, too.”

  “What are ye going to do about it?”

  “Nothing I can do until I can prove he’s lying.”

  Jamey and Marshal Handley loaded the wooden box into the back of the wagon. When they were done, Jamey stood beside the wagon, his hands gripping the side wall.

  “Before we take the body to the grave, I should let Angel know you’re here and what ye know so far. I wish I had better news.”

  “So do I, but I may not know more until Moran gets back. He’s expected on the next train.”

  “Come on in for a bit and warm yerself for a bit.”

  “Thanks, I’d like that.”

  Jamey lost his footing as he reached the corner of the porch and he grabbed for the corner post. At precisely the same moment, he heard the sound of furniture hitting the floor. Handley must have heard it, too, for he pulled his gun. Jamey opened his coat and retrieved his own gun from its holster on his hip.

  He put his finger to his lips for quiet and motioned for Handley to go around the back of the cabin. He drew in a steadying breath. There was no need for him to check on the other side of the cabin where he’d found the horse the other day. Only one scenario came to his mind. Curly Radley was inside the cabin with Angel. His Angel. And the bastard had better not harm her.