***
Angel had worked all morning cleaning, scrubbing, and polishing every stick of furniture, floorboard and dish. She’d even washed the soot off the lamp chimneys. The cabin had to be as perfect as she could make it for Cissie’s visit.
She still couldn’t believe her best friend was coming to see her and might possibly be living close in the area. Just being in the same state was more than she could have hoped for. It was like she’d made this happen by thinking about her so much in the last few days. Granted she hadn’t arrived yet but she was close. Angel’s entire body hummed with her excitement over Cissie’s nearness.
The aroma from the spice cake she’d put in the oven nearly an hour ago filled the cabin. It must be almost done. Between that and the pot of stew simmering on the stove, her house smelled like home.
Jamey had been outside for hours and she’d tried hard not to think about what he’d been doing. She’d resisted looking out the window, but she’d heard the familiar sounds of a hammer and handsaw. At one point she’d even heard the shovel striking the frozen ground. Will Rivers would more than likely be buried today.
Boots on the porch drew her thoughts away from the unpleasantness of a small funeral. She brightened at the thought of seeing Jamey. She wasn’t mad at him anymore. His actions, she realized, hadn’t been malicious or deceitful. For some reason she couldn’t figure out, he truly wanted to help and protect her.
She’d come to trust him and even liked him more than a little and if he planned to stay . . . but he didn’t. He would leave as soon as he could for his next adventure. The little voice inside her head said, but he’s here now. With that knowledge, she wiped her face with the hem of her apron and tucked stray tendrils of her hair into the ebony colored combs. With a smile on her lips, she hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Curly Radley stood in front of her grinning like the devil she knew him to be. All of the air whooshed from her lungs. She felt light headed and nauseous. She wanted to slam the door in his face but was frozen in place like the pump handle had been yesterday. After a few seconds she found her voice,
“What are you doing here and what do you want?”
“Why, I’m here to see you, little lady.”
“My husband’s right outside.”
“Yeah? So is the marshal, but that ain’t gonna matter much.”
“But I—”
He shoved her back and pushed the door closed behind him. “All you have to do is give me what I want and I’ll be on my way.”
“I don’t have anything,” she protested. “What is it you think I have?”
“I want the deed for this place.”
“There is no deed. I promise you Will left me nothing.”
Radley grabbed her by her arm and swung her around, taking her with him as he emptied shelves and turned over furniture like a man crazed. In the bedroom, he pulled out the dresser drawers and emptied their contents onto the floor then dragged her back into the main room. In one motion he pulled her to him, her arm twisted behind her back and his other hand drawn back ready to strike her.
“I know better than that. I heard him tell Moran he had it tucked away nice and safe. Now where is it?”
His face was so close he sprayed her with spittle when he spoke and his foul breath made her want to gag. She looked him straight in the eye without so much as a blink.
“I. Don’t. Know.” She spoke slowly, deliberately so the bully might understand. “He’d taken it from the bank already and didn’t tell me.”
“It has to be here!”
“Why? Because it wasn’t on him when you shot him and left him to die?” Movement outside the porch window snagged her attention and bolstered her courage. Jamey, thank God. “Marshal Handley knows you’re riding Will’s horse. It’s just a matter of time before he charges you with murder.”
“You slut,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Ain’t nobody going to jail. I found that horse.”
“You’re a horse thief and a murderer, Curly Radley. You killed Will Rivers and stole his horse and the marshal will prove it!”
When he drew back his hand again, Angel had had enough. Catching him off guard, she leaned into him and brought her knee straight up into his privates. He let her go with a shove and a yelp and then he screamed when he landed backward onto the hot stove.
Simultaneously, the front door burst open and the glass in the bedroom window exploded. Jamey rushed over to her, gathering her into his arms.
Holding her tightly, he asked, “Are ye all right, Colleen?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She was breathing like she had when she and Cissie had raced to school but, for the first time in a long time, she felt good about herself.
The marshal, covered in glass shards, grabbed Radley off the stove and threw him to the floor.
“Marshal, you gotta arrest her,” Radley cried out and groaned. “That bitch tried to kill me.”
“Curly, stop your whining. No man’s ever died from a knee to his crotch.”
Jamey’s head jerked up and he shot a glance to Handley. He raised his brows in question and pointed to the woman in his arms. “My Angel?”
“Sure enough,” Handley said with a grin. “Saw it through the window before I broke in.”
Jamey looked down at one of the most feminine women he’d possibly ever known. Her cheeks were flushed with red and he couldn’t tell whether her expression said she would fight him or run from the room.
“Where’d ye learn a move like that?”
“Calliope taught it to me right after I moved in with her.” She shuddered and hugged him tighter. “She said it was something every woman should know.”
“Smart woman. I’ll have to remember to give her some flowers.”
“I’m sure her lessons will come in handy when I’m living here alone.”
“And when will that be?”
“When you take off for your little adventure in Colorado.” She straightened and pushed away from his embrace.
He was taken aback by her statement and her pushing him away. The last few days had changed him in ways he couldn’t have imagined. When he’d left Dallas two weeks ago, he hadn’t planned on getting shot, getting married, or falling in love with a stranger. But there it was. He had fallen in love. The sobering thought that he might’ve lost her before he realized it poleaxed him.
Marshal Handley pulled Curly Radley to his feet, handcuffed and still moaning.
“Take it easy, Marshal,” Radley whined. “That bitch tried to kill me. I may never walk right again.”
“And I told you to shut up or you might never talk right again.”
Three strides and a punch to the face and Radley lay prone for a second time. Jamey stood over the man with his hands curled into fists. “Call my wife any name but Mrs. O’Donnell one more time and ye might not be breathing.”
“Handley, you gotta get me outta here,” Radley whimpered, his cuffed hands covering his bloody nose. “I want to sign a complaint. My life’s been threatened twice.”
Jamey hauled him up by his coat and shoved him into the marshal’s hands. “Let’s not look at it as a threat, I’d call it more of a public service announcement.”
Marshal Handley chuckled. “Come on, Curly. Let’s get on back to town. I don’t want to end up having to defend Mr. O’Donnell.”
Following them outside, Jamey helped tie Radley to the saddle and handed the reins to Handley so he could lead them both back to the jailhouse.
“O’Donnell, do you think you and the missus can come in to give your statements?”
“I’ll ask her what she wants to do.” He glanced over at the gravesite. “We’ll see what she can manage.”
He watched the two men ride off toward the town road and dreaded the next step.
The burying of Will Rivers.
Back inside the cabin, he joined her in righting the furniture and picking up the various items on the floor from dishes to cooking utensils. When he saw her scramb
ling around the slightly leaning Christmas tree in search of something, he went to her.
“What is it, Colleen?”
“My mama’s pinecone ornament isn’t on the limb where I hung it. I have to find it.”
He knelt beside her in front of the tree to get a closer look and found the ornament nestled near the trunk, safely cushioned in cedar branches and needles. He grabbed it and handed it to her. “Here it is, Colleen, all safe and sound.”
“Oh—” Her voice broke. She took the decoration from him, held it close to her heart and closed her eyes. Tears sparkled on her lashes. “Thank you. I know it’s silly and weak to cry over a piece of metal.”
“Ye’re not weak. It takes strength to handle what ye’ve been through today. Ye’ve done it admirably.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going out now to finish the grave and I’ll be back in to get ye, all right?”
“Yes, I’ll finish cleaning up.”
After he’d gotten the homemade casket into the ground and covered it with dirt, he went to the cabin to retrieve Angel. She’d put most everything back in order and was straightening the Christmas tree.
“If ye’re up to it, I’ve laid Will to rest and we should say a prayer over him.”
“I’m ready.”
They stood beside the mound of dirt under the grouping of oak trees. The spot was far enough from the cabin to offer privacy, near enough to afford time to visit, and a large enough area for future family graves when needed. He removed his hat, bowed his head, and recited the Lord's Prayer.
Softly, she repeated his amen then knelt to smooth out a few dirt clods. She ran her fingers over the small cross he’d made with Will’s name carved into the wood. “Thank you for doing this. It’s a nice gesture.”
“Everyone deserves a marker.” He helped her stand. “Can I help ye back to the cabin? I don’t want ye slippin’ on the ice.”
“No, I’ll be all right. I’ll take it slow. You can go ahead and finish up so you can come inside to get warm. I’ll have hot stew for you.”
He gave her a quick wink. “My mouth’s waterin’ now just thinkin’ about it.” Turning serious, he said, “We should talk later about our situation.”
“I agree, there are decisions to be made.” Silently she turned and walked to the cabin.
He followed her inside after locking the barn. It was quiet and Angel wasn’t in the main room. A bowl sat beside the pot of hot stew along with a thick slice of the fresh bread she’d made this morning. The gloves she’d worn lay on the table and her coat was on the floor by the bedroom.
At the door, he saw her sound asleep on the bed. Her attempt to cover the open window where Marshall Handley had come through earlier was ineffective and the room was too cold for him to leave her there.
He touched her shoulder and shook gently. “Colleen?” When she didn’t respond, he shook her again. “Angel?” She’d begun to shiver, so he picked her up and carried her to the pillows and blankets near the fireplace in the main room. As he laid her down, she whispered something he couldn’t make out.
“Tell me again, Colleen, I didn’t hear ye.” Still unable to understand her mumbling, he stood, closed the bedroom door against the cold, took off his coat, and laid beside her.
Turning into him, her arm slipped around his waist and just before she fell back into a deep sleep she said, “Jamey?”
He brushed stray tendrils of blonde hair away from her face. “Yes, love?”
“Ummm, warm . . . love . . . stay . . . don’t go.”
He thought she said something else but couldn’t make it out. Stretching out his full length, he began to relax. They didn’t have their talk tonight as he’d wanted, but tomorrow would do fine. They had all day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mid-morning the next day, Angel and Jamey entered the marshal’s office. She hated to go over everything another time but she had to get every detail on record so that when Radley’s trial came up the judge would have the facts.
“Good morning, Marshal. How are you?”
Offering her a chair, he said with a grin, “A whole lot warmer than yesterday.”
Jamey sat beside her.
“I imagine so.” She pulled a folded piece of stationary from the pocket of her skirt and handed it to him. “I went ahead and wrote everything down this morning for both of us. I didn’t know if you had a specific form for us to fill out or not.”
“This’ll do. You’ll both be around for the trial so there’s nothing else needed at this time.”
The marshal said it so matter-of-factly like he knew something she didn’t. He hadn’t been privy to her and Jamey’s agreement, though, and he didn’t know her husband would be leaving her to go to Leadville, Colorado to mine silver.
“You know where to find us,” she said.
They stood to leave as the front door opened. Cleve Moran thundered in wearing a coat with the biggest fur collar she’d ever seen.
“Handley, my boys tell me you’ve arrested my foreman.”
“Yes.” Handley leaned back in his chair. “Curly’s made threats to the O’Donnell’s and I have reason to suspect him in the murder of Will Rivers.”
“I assume you have evidence?”
“What I have so far is I found him in possession of Will’s horse and saddle and no explanation as to how he got them. He forced his way into the O’Donnell’s cabin yesterday and insisted she turn over the deed to her property. He roughed her up and did damage to their place.”
“Can I talk to him?”
Handley grabbed his keys from his desk drawer. “I’ll give you five minutes.”
“That should be all the time I need.”
Angel sat back down. Everyone in town thought Cleveland Moran was an honest, fair man. Since she’d already formed her own opinion, she wanted to find out for herself.
A few minutes later he came out of the back room where Radley was being held. “Marshal, I believe I’ve convinced Curly to confess to the murder of Rivers. Has my ranch hand, Charlie Bailey, showed up yet?”
“Not yet, is he . . .”
A commotion outside on the walkway interrupted him and drew their attention. The door busted open with a young boy attached. He carried a large grain sack stuffed with something. “Ma’am, Mr. Moran, sir, Marshal.”
“Get on with it boy,” Moran urged.
“Well, sir,” Charlie continued. “Mr. Radley told me if I talked he’d hurt me so I buried these like he said.”
Jamey spoke for the first time since entering the office. “What’s in the sack?”
“These.” Charlie removed saddle bags from the sack and handed them to the marshal and then stood beside Moran.
“I’ll be damned.” Handley held up the bags showing the “WR” tooled onto the flap. He addressed Angel, “I’m going to go out on a limb and say these belonged to Will.”
She could only nod her answer. Poor Will. He didn’t deserve the fate that had befallen him. She watched Marshal Handley empty the contents. Among the things were his utensils, a plate, some ointment he used for cuts, and a few bullets. The last item she recognized was his small leather-bound bible. She picked it up and when she flipped through the pages a paper fell out into her lap. She opened the folded document and recognized it immediately.
“Jamey look, it’s the deed to the Double R.”
“Sure is. Radley had it the whole time and didn’t know it.”
“I guess Will knew the sort that would be looking to steal wouldn’t expect to find anything important in the bible.”
“Well, I have enough to keep him in jail until the judge swings back around to see if we have ample evidence to hold a trial.”
“Thank ye, Marshal.”
“Yes,” Angel agreed. “We’re very grateful.”
As Jamey and Angel headed for the door, Moran called out, “O’Donnell since you now have the deed, shall we go to the bank and settle out today?”
“That works for me. Are you
all right with that decision, Colleen?”
She knew this was the best way to get the debt resolved but also knew she didn’t need to be there for the transaction, as she still had issues with banks. The Double R belonged to her husband until he left or she had the funds to buy it back from him, whenever that might be. “It is better to get it done while we’re in town. And, if you don’t mind, I’d like to visit with Calliope before we go home.”
He smiled. “Sure’n I’d like ye to visit with yer friend. I’ll meet ye at the hotel and we’ll have dinner before headin’ out.”
“Mrs. O’Donnell.” Marshal Handley rounded his desk and came up beside her. “I believe you’ll find Miss Calliope at the hotel. She’s living there now.”
“Oh?” She couldn’t imagine why Calliope wouldn’t be in her own place but took it as a positive sign. “That’s where I’ll go then.”
Angel entered the hotel lobby, walked directly to the desk and waited for the clerk to acknowledge her. She didn’t recognize him, but then she hadn’t been inside the establishment in over a year. As a matter of fact, there were several whose faces she hadn’t seen before.
“May I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes. I’d like to see Miss Calliope Thorne.”
“I’ll send a message up to her room. May I say who wishes to see her?”
“Thank you. Mrs. Angel Rivers O’Donnell.”
“If you’ll have a seat, please. It’ll be just a few minutes.”
She headed over to a grouping of velvet upholstered wing chairs but halted mid-stride when a familiar voice rang out from across the lobby.
“Angel? Angel Clemens?”
She whirled around to see her friend standing at the foot of the stairs.
“Cissie!” They met in the middle and hugged each other tightly. Angel couldn’t have said who got there first. It didn’t matter. “Oh, good Gussie, I can hardly believe you’re here! I just received your letter yesterday.”
Angel and the Texan From County Cork (The Brides of Texas Code Series Book 3) Page 7