Apache-Colton Series

by Janis Reams Hudson

  But still, his feet began to move. Instead of just crossing the street and taking the alley, he forced himself to walk all the way down the street, past Sadie’s, to the other end of the block before entering the alley.

  He grunted with disgust. It was a typical Tucson alley, all right. There was a fight going on. As he drew nearer, he realized what an uneven fight it was. Thinking to mind his own business, which was the best way to stay alive in this town, he raised his gaze to the lighted window above.

  The light went out. A second later a pale face appeared at the curtainless window. Not wanting to be seen, in case that was Angela up there, Matt ducked into the nearest doorway. His gaze was involuntarily drawn back to the fight right outside Sadie’s back door.

  Christ! No wonder the fight was so uneven. It was a man beating up a woman! Matt tensed to step forward, but in that instant the most unbelievable thing happened.

  Barefoot and wearing nothing but a nightgown, Angela flew into the alley like an avenging angel, shrieking at the top of her lungs. It was several stunned seconds before Matt was able to react.

  Berating himself for a fool, he slipped the thong off the hammer of his six-shooter. He’d never been so slow to move in his life. The man had already disarmed Angela—twice!

  Matt pulled his gun and cocked it.

  The girl on the ground whimpered, thinking her assailant had pulled a gun. Angela stiffened, thinking the same thing. But the man knew, as a man who’s been around knows these things, that the gun was pointed at him.

  Forty feet down the alley, a tall shadow separated itself from a darkened doorway and stepped forward. In desperation, the man whose hand was halted halfway to Angela’s throat continued his motion as if he’d never stopped. In the blink of a eye, he grabbed her and held her in front of him as a shield.

  Through the thinness of her cotton nightgown, Angela felt the man’s clammy chest against her back as if he and she were both naked. Sheer black terror engulfed her and held her motionless. The smell of him, a mixture of cloying perfume and sweat, gagged her. She was so unnerved, she even imagined the man with the gun, who walked slowly toward them, was Matt. She blinked, then gasped. It was Matt!

  As Matt drew closer, the man holding Angela made another sudden move. He thrust her forward, directly toward the gun, then darted around the side of the house across the alley.

  Angela stumbled and landed solidly against Matt’s broad chest. His arms came around her and she thought, Oh God. Matt. Matt. Hot, seeking lips found hers in a desperate, all too brief kiss. A tingling thrill shot through her. Then he thrust her away and took off after her assailant.

  She stared after him, panting. When she finally turned to check on the woman at her feet, Angela’s lips were parted in a wide grin.

  Her grin disappeared when she knelt beside the moaning girl. “It’s all right now,” Angela told her. “You’re safe. He’s gone.” The girl didn’t seem to hear. “Don’t move. I’m going to get some light. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Angela felt around in the pitch-black kitchen until she located a lantern on the counter. She lit it with a wooden match from the holder on the wall and was back outside in seconds.

  A few minutes later Matt rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. Angela was speaking to the girl on the ground and smoothing the hair back from the bruised brow. But what halted Matt in his tracks was the outline of her body, cast in sharp relief by the lantern on the ground beside her. As he drank in the outline of her full, unbound breasts through the thin fabric of her nightgown, sweat broke out on his palms and the rhythm of his breathing changed.

  He must have made some sound, for she turned on her knees and looked at him. He knelt beside her and their eyes locked. A moment later the girl on the ground moaned. They tore their gazes apart. Matt looked at the girl and swore.

  “Hiya, Colton,” she said between swollen lips.

  “Kali. Did Harvey do this to you?”

  Angela leaned forward. “You know her, Matt?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. Then, “We’ve got to get her to a bed.”

  “We’ll use mine,” Angela offered, nodding toward the window above them.

  “Take it easy, Kali.” He ran his hands over her carefully. “Nothing seems to be broken. Hold on now. I’m going to carry you upstairs.”

  Kali rolled her head toward him and tried to laugh, but it came out as a groan instead. “I don’t…think…you’ll get your…money’s worth…tonight…hon.”

  Matt chuckled. “You’re not supposed to say things like that in front of a man’s wife, Kali. A girl in your profession should know better.”

  Angela gasped as their meaning became clear.

  Matt picked Kali up in his arms, but Angela just knelt there, staring at him. He shrugged. “I said I knew her.”

  Angela grasped the lantern and sprang to her feet. “Yes,” she hissed. “But I didn’t think you meant biblically. And I’m not your wife anymore.”

  “So you say.” He followed her inside. She was right about no longer being his wife, but he wasn’t about to admit it to her. Since they were married under Apache law, their marriage was ended when she left him. But he’d never explained Apache divorce to her, so she couldn’t know that. It was just wishful thinking on her part, damn it. As far as he was concerned, she was most definitely his wife.

  They went through Sadie’s back door, climbed the narrow stairs, and headed down the hall. Sadie’s snorts and rumbles nearly rattled her door. Matt almost smiled, picturing Sadie’s mouth open, lips quivering away.

  In her own room Angela lit the candle for Matt, then hurried back downstairs for hot water and rags. Matt gently laid Kali on the narrow cot, then examined the bare room. Depression settled over him. So, this is what she preferred to a life with him. A narrow, lumpy bed, an upturned crate for a night table, and three hooks on the wall which held two dresses and…his blue shirt?

  He carried the candle closer. It was his blue shirt. He remembered placing it in her bag the night before the trial. It had been crisp and clean, and he’d folded it neatly on top of her dress. Now it was wrinkled. It looked like—

  A slow grin spread across his face. It looked like it’d been slept in. More than once.

  When Angela returned, he held the light for her while she worked to clean up the girl on her bed. The girl Matt “knew.” Kali was awake, but kept her eyes closed against the pain of having her cuts and bruises tended. She looked up at Angela once and tried to smile. “His wife?”

  Angela opened her mouth to deny the fact, but Matt interrupted. “That’s right. Angela, meet Kali. Kali, Angela.”

  “He’s imagining things,” Angela said, casting him a glare.

  “No,” Kali whispered weakly. “I seen you before…at the courthouse. But you ain’t gotta worry none about me, ma’am. Your man ain’t been near me in over a year. He wouldn’t cheat on ya. Matt’s not that kinda guy.”

  Angela felt Matt’s stare boring into her but refused to look at him. “Hush now,” she told the girl. “Just rest and save your strength.”

  By the time Angela did all she could for the girl, Kali was fast asleep. Back downstairs, Angela heated some coffee without asking, somehow reluctant for Matt to leave.

  Seated at Sadie’s big work table, he finally raised his gaze to her. “You look tired,” he observed.

  Angela braced an elbow on the table and rested her head in her hand. “So do you,” she said softly.

  She should be feeling extremely self-conscious, sitting there in her nightgown. At least she had put on her wrapper before coming downstairs this time. But her hair hung in snarls down her back and her feet were bare and dirty. And a woman Matt knew was upstairs in her bed.

  She must be more tired than she realized, for none of that seemed to matter. Here she sat, at this old scarred table, sharing coffee with Matt, and it felt comfortable. It felt right.

  “How’ve you been?”

  His deep voice startled her from her easy thoughts.
Tension crept into the room like an unwelcome guest.

  “All right,” she said with a shrug, staring at the steam rising from her coffee. “And you?”

  He shrugged too. “The same.”

  Angela cleared her throat. “I’m…ah…surprised you’re still in town.”

  “Unfinished business.” His gaze bored into her as if trying to read her mind. Then, out of the blue, “I was proud of you tonight.”

  She looked at him then, startled. “Proud?”

  He smiled. “You were really something, the way you came screaming out into the alley like that. What was it you hit him with the first time, anyway?”

  She gasped and put her fingers to her lips. “The skillet. I forgot about it.” She pushed herself back from the table so hard she nearly spilled her coffee. “If Sadie doesn’t find it in the morning, she’ll kill me.”

  Matt followed with a smile as she carried the lantern to the back of the house across the alley and searched through the weeds until she found the skillet. Back inside, he watched, and appreciated, the way the wrapper swayed around her backside while she cleaned the pan.

  “Looks like you’re out of a bed for the night. Where’ll you sleep?”

  She placed the skillet back on the counter with care. “Sadie’s got some old blankets in the spare room upstairs. I’ll just make a pallet on the floor.”

  “Doesn’t sound too comfortable.”

  “It’ll do,” she said, picking up her coffee.

  “I’ve got a room at the hotel. You could stay there for the night.”

  She stiffened. “Is that what all this is about? Tired of sleeping alone? Well, I’d suggest you go upstairs to your friend, but I don’t think she’s in any shape to accommodate you.”

  “Are you off on that subject again?” he demanded.

  “No. The subject is closed. I think it’s past time for you to go. I have to get up early.”

  Matt took a step forward, then changed his mind. It was too soon to force the issue. “All right, Angel, I’ll go. But the subject is far from closed.” He took another step forward, then turned abruptly and stomped out the door. When he slammed it, the windows shook. So did the pots and pans.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sadie was disappointed the next morning to learn she’d missed all the excitement. “Next time, by Jove, wake me up! I swing a pretty mean fryin’ pan, myself. Between the two of us, we coulda clobbered that varmint good.”

  Doc Harding came by to check on Kali. Said Matt sent him. The poor girl was so stiff and sore she could barely move, but Doc confirmed that nothing was broken.

  Before the dust settled from Doc’s departure, Matt showed up for breakfast. Angela was still piqued at him over his suggestion that she sleep at the hotel. She slammed a coffee cup down in front of him loud enough to turn heads and cause stares. “Don’t they serve breakfast at the hotel anymore?”

  Matt smirked. “I wasn’t in the mood to be treated like a valued customer. Friendly service gets boring. Thought I’d come here for a change of pace.”

  Three men at the next table laid their forks down in slow motion and turned to face him. “Ain’t no call ta be pickin’ on the little lady, mister,” one of them warned.

  Another leaned an elbow on the table and said, “Miss Angela’s a lady, fella. Don’t you be givin’ her a hard time.”

  “Yeah,” the third one said. “Nobody else’s complain’ ‘bout the service. Maybe it’s just your attitude she don’t like.”

  Matt raised a brow at the three, then turned his gaze on Angela. “My apologies, ma’am,” he said.

  Angela mashed her lips together to keep the grin from her face. “Apology accepted,” she told him with a nod. Then she turned to the other three and smiled brilliantly. “Gentlemen, I thank you.”

  During the next week Matt turned out to be the most regular customer Sadie’s Good Food had ever seen. Angela didn’t know what to make of it. Once or twice he asked about Kali. Angela thought for a while that was his reason for coming around, but changed her mind. He didn’t really seem that interested in the answers he received. She hoped.

  After two days in bed, Kali was bored to tears, saying something about bed being no place to be alone. Angela blushed, but when Kali giggled, Angela laughed too. The next day Kali started helping Sadie in the kitchen. Not wanting anyone to see her terrible bruises, and not wanting to cause Sadie and Angela the embarrassment of befriending one of “Harvey’s girls,” she refrained from helping in the dining room and stayed in the kitchen, out of sight.

  “But you don’t have to help at all, girl,” Sadie claimed.

  “Of course I do,” Kali said. “I owe you for putting me up, and I owe Angela for coming to my rescue like she did.”

  “Nonsense,” Angela and Sadie said together.

  Later that day, talk in the dining room was all about some saloon keeper over on Maiden Row named Harvey, who’d had some sort of unfortunate accident and would be laid low for the next several weeks. When Matt came in for dinner the men gave him a wide berth. Kali grinned from ear to ear when Angela mentioned his skinned knuckles.

  “Are you crazy?” Kali shrieked at Angela in their room that night. “You’re married to Matt Colton and you left him? What the hell made you do a damn fool thing like that?”

  Kali had been trying to start this particular conversation for days. Until now, Angela had managed to avoid it. Might as well answer and get it over with. She shrugged to cover up the turmoil inside. “He doesn’t love me.”

  “Love, schmuv! With a guy like him, who cares? He’s young, he’s handsome, he’s rich, and he sure knows how to show a girl a good time, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  Angela stiffened. She did mind. She minded like hell!

  When Matt walked boldly into the kitchen late Sunday morning, Angela didn’t know whether to scream, cry, or run. Every day! Every day he’d been in. His presence unnerved her. Whenever she waited on him he never said much, just ordered his meal and asked how she was. He was always polite since that time the three men took offense at his rudeness.

  But he watched her. His gaze followed every move she made, while his brow wrinkled in concentration. Once in a while she could even catch him at it, but she tried not to. Whenever their gazes met, he refused to look away. And the looks he gave her were always different. Sometimes friendly, sometimes serious. Sometimes playful, sometimes sad. But what affected her the most was when their eyes would meet and his would smoulder and scorch her with their heat. And the heat was not from anger.

  This time, as he stood in the kitchen, he didn’t look at her at all. But she looked at him. She’d never seen him dressed like this before. He wore a black, three-piece suit with a white dress shirt and black string tie. And for once, his face wasn’t shaded by the brim of a hat. He was bareheaded. The total picture he presented nearly robbed her of her breath. He was without a doubt, the handsomest man she’d ever seen.

  “Everything ready?” he asked Sadie.

  “Sure ‘nough. Right over there.” She pointed with her chin, since her hands were buried in a pan of bread dough.

  He stepped over to the work table and peered inside a large picnic basket Angela hadn’t noticed before. “I’ll just take this outside,” he said with a smile. “Be right back for the rest.”

  Kali rinsed the plate she’d been washing and set it aside, then hurriedly dried her hands. Biting back a grin, she whirled on Angela and began unpinning the apron top from Angela’s dress. Angela was too amazed to object, until she felt the bow at the back of her waist give. She made a grab for it, but it slipped away.

  She spun around and watched, open-mouthed, as Sadie folded the apron and set it aside, her shoulders shaking once her back was turned. Behind her, Kali giggled.

  “What’s going on around here?” Angela demanded. She looked from one to the other as they both grinned from ear to ear and tried to look innocent. When heavy footsteps sounded behind her, she whirled toward the door to face
a smiling Matt.

  “Good,” he said. “You’re ready.”

  She looked from Kali to Sadie again, but they’d both turned their backs. “Ready for what?” she asked cautiously.

  “For a picnic,” Matt said, as if explaining something to a small child. “And an afternoon off.”

  “In the desert? What are we going to do, eat in the shade of a cactus? You’re crazy. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ve got work to do.”

  Behind her, Sadie mumbled something about too damned much help for such a small business. Matt took a step toward her. “I’m inviting you on a nice, friendly picnic. I have your employer’s permission.”

  “Well you don’t have my permission. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Matt’s smile didn’t even dim as he took another step forward. “There are some things we need to talk about. I’m asking you politely, Angel—”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “You’d rather I called you Mrs. Colton?”

  She took a step back, and ran up against the cabinet, her eyes wide.

  His smile slipped a little and he cocked his head to one side. “Are you afraid to go on a picnic with me?”

  “Don’t be silly,” she answered breathlessly, her heart whacking away at her ribs.

  “Then you’ll come.”

  “I will not.”

  Matt folded his arms and looked like he might be prepared to wait all day for her to give in. His next words, however, dispelled that notion.

  “You’ll either take my arm and walk out of here with a smile on your face, or I’ll drag you out bodily. It’s up to you.”

  Angela stared at him and wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. The only sound in the room was the soft hiss and crackle of the fire in the cook stove. An occasional clank of fork against plate came from the dining room, and somewhere out the back door a dog barked.

  Angela wanted to call his bluff. Oh, how she wanted to. But she was afraid he wasn’t bluffing. That smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.