“Of course,” Angel said, giving her a quick hug, “and you will be too, once you think it through. Now, stop fretting. I promise, everything will work out fine.”
Alexis’s answering embrace had a hint of desperation in it. “I love you, Angel, remember that.”
“I know. And I love you, too. Be ready tomorrow morning at eight o’clock, and we’ll ride out to meet Ox.”
A strange sense of melancholy dogged Angel’s steps as she prepared to trade places with her sister again. In spite of her encouraging words to Alexis, she wasn’t completely sure of what Ox’s reaction would be when he found out she’d been lying to him. How was he going to feel about her playing him for a fool?
Worse yet was the realization she’d have to revert to the Angel he’d known in South Pass City. It was even more of an act than her portrayal of Alexis, and one she really had no desire to go back to. The Angel from The Green Garter was hard-bitten and cynical. The persona had become more and more difficult to shed, until she had begun to fear she would disappear into the role she played. It was a masquerade she’d had to end before it became reality. In South Pass, she’d kept Ox at arm’s length with a combination of sarcasm and wary distrust. As Alexis, she’d been able to relax a little, to be more herself. In spite of the uncertainty, the last few days had been fun.
Sleep eluded her until nearly dawn when she finally fell into an exhausted slumber, which was disturbed less than two hours later when Martha woke her up. Heavy-eyed and irritable, Angel was less than pleasant as she dressed and finished packing the few personal items she hadn’t borrowed from her sister.
“You’re going to get wet if you go out,” Martha informed her dourly. “There’s a storm brewing, sure as shootin’.”
“Then I’ll get wet. I’m not sugar, and I’m not salt, and I won’t melt. “
“Maybe not, but you’ll be nursing a cold before the week’s out. You’ll have a devil of a time playing your sister then. Your father would know immediately. Even Vanessa could figure it out. Alexis is a decent sort even when she’s sick, not like some.”
“Meaning me, I suppose? Don’t worry, Martha, I’m taking precautions,” Angel said, throwing a heavy cloak over her arm. “Besides, Alexis and I are switching back today anyway, remember? If I get the sniffles, I’ll be out at the cabin with nobody to be grumpy at but myself.” She kissed Martha’s cheek and headed for the door. “Alexis will be back after lunch sometime.”
“Huh,” she heard Martha mumble. “As though I’d let her be sick out there all by herself. The very idea!”
Angel had to agree with Martha’s weather prediction. They were almost certain to get a good drenching if they went out as planned. But when she arrived at the cabin, it only took Angel a moment to realize Alexis had packed her things and left. There was a note on the mantel, and she read it with a sense of defeat.
Dearest Angel,
I thought a lot about what you said yesterday, and I think you are right. It is time we taught Father a lesson. Beating him at his own game is about the only thing he will understand, and your plan is a good one. But a plan is only as good as the weakest link, which in this case is me. You’re the partner Ox needs, not me. You know how I am when it comes to confrontation, especially with Father. I’ll crumble when I most need to be strong. You, on the other hand, are equal to anything Father can throw at you. You will be a hundred times better at this than I ever could be. Besides, just think of the fun you and Ox will have matching wits with Father and Mr. Treenery! I will be staying with friends until this is over, but if you need me for some reason, leave a message in the usual place. Remember, I love you, and please don’t be too angry with me.
Alexis
Angel sighed as she refolded the note. Without Alexis here to support her when she told Ox who she really was, it suddenly seemed a much more daunting task. No wonder Alexis had fled. Angel felt like running away herself. It wasn’t so much that she was afraid of his anger, though she wasn’t looking forward to that. It was more that she didn’t want to go back to being the Angel of South Pass City. If the plan was going to work, she’d still have to be Alexis in order to fool Father and James Treenery. The part of Alexis was considerably easier to play than the cynical, hard-bitten casino owner, and she wasn’t sure she could manage both at the same time. It would be so much easier if she never stepped out of character. Angel stared at the empty fireplace. So far, it had worked just fine. Ox was convinced she and her sister were so much alike because they were twins. He had no reason to suspect he actually only knew one of them.
The next few months would be difficult, of course. She and Ox would be working shoulder to shoulder, spending hours at a time in each other’s company, sharing ideas and problems. Alexis was right. It was an intoxicating picture. For the first time all morning, Angel felt like smiling.
Chapter 9
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Ox said when Angel arrived at their rendezvous near the flooded creek.
“Believe me, I gave it serious thought.”
“So did I. Only an idiot would come out in this weather.” Ox pulled the collar of his coat tighter against the pouring rain. “I guess you know what that makes us.”
“Wet!”
Ox laughed. “Can’t argue that.”
“Come on.” She turned her horse back toward the cabin. “I know a place we can dry off and talk.”
“Close, I hope.” Ox nudged his horse with his heels and followed Angel through the rain. “Otherwise, we’ll need a rowboat to get there.”
Though the cabin wasn’t far, the roads were so bad, it was almost fifteen minutes before they arrived. “Thank goodness the wood box is full,” Angel said, unbuttoning her cloak. “Why don’t you start a fire to dry our clothes, and I’ll get some water heating for coffee?”
“Just point me toward the kindling.” Ox glanced around the interior of the cabin curiously. “Who lives here?”
“No one now, though this is where Duncan lived when he first came to Cheyenne. He was going to sell it after he built the house, but I convinced him it might be useful to have. This is where Angel always stays.”
Ox looked surprised. “She doesn’t stay at your house?”
“No, she says she’s more comfortable out here.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. We have words about it every time she comes to visit.” Angel was conscious of his curious gaze on her back as she busied herself at the small cook stove. “She says she likes the quiet.”
“That’s probably true enough. The Green...uh...her place was pretty noisy most of the time. Lots of people coming and going.”
“She always said business was good.”
“Oh, it was. Angel went out of her way to make her customers happy. A lot of lonely miners found a home there.”
Angel smiled to herself, inexplicably warmed by Ox’s sugar-coated description of The Green Garter. He made it sound more like a tea parlor than a casino and brothel. “Have you known my sister long?”
“A couple of years. We’re good friends.”
“How good?” Angel was aware she was treading on dangerous ground but couldn’t seem to help herself.
“About the best I ever had. I think that’s why South Pass City was my favorite stop. If I had to lay over somewhere for a couple of days, I always tried to do it there. I usually made sure I had at least an overnight stay.”
His words gave her another unexpected spurt of pleasure. “It sounds like you were very close.”
“We weren’t lovers, if that’s what you mean, though I sometimes wonder...” Ox’s voice trailed off.
Angel knew she should drop it, but couldn’t resist one more question. “Why not? I mean, if you liked each other so much...”
“It never occurred to me at the time. I’m not sure I’d have had the courage to try, even if it had. Angel isn’t exactly the type a man feels comfortable cuddling up to.” He stopped talking suddenly and cleared his throat. “This
place seems pretty well stocked for a guest house.”
“Martha’s doing,” Angel said, accepting the change of subject. Though his words stung her feminine pride a bit, they weren’t unexpected. It was the reason she’d adopted a prickly attitude in the first place. Not even Ox was brave enough to try cutting through it. There was certainly no reason to feel hurt. “Do you want coffee or tea?”
“Coffee.”
She took a tin off the shelf and poured beans into the grinder. “Did you talk to your grandfather?” Angel busied herself grinding the coffee before putting it into the pot.
“A little. I asked a few round-about questions. If I act too interested in The Flying T too soon, he’ll be suspicious. How about you and your father?”
“Not yet.” Angel sat down and tugged off a wet boot. “I think I’ll wait until he asks me. He’ll probably send my stepmother to sound me out.”
Ox stood up and warmed himself in front of the fire he had just built. “Do you think he’ll believe you’ve decided to accept my suit?”
“It hasn’t occurred to him that I might not.” Angel got down on her hands and knees and looked under the bed. “Ha! I knew she’d forget them,” she said with satisfaction as she pulled out Alexis’s slippers and put them on. “My father has a way of ignoring anything that doesn’t fit in with his plans. As far as he was concerned, my reluctance was merely a temporary inconvenience.”
“Pretending we’re courting may not be easy.”
“Don’t worry, Angel says I was born knowing how to flirt.” She batted her eyes at him. It didn’t come as easily to her as it did her sister, but Angel was certain she could pull it off well enough to fool her father.
Ox grinned. “Uh-oh, does this mean my bachelorhood is in jeopardy?”
“Not hardly. I have no more desire to get married than you do. Father will insist on setting a wedding date, but we’ll think of some kind of delaying tactics to put him off.”
“Can we get away with saying a year from now?”
“I doubt it, but I can say I won’t even think about it until my year of mourning is over. If we still need more time, we can set the date then.”
“Well now, will you look at this?” he said, picking up a framed miniature from the mantel. “It’s you and Angel!”
Angel smiled. “My father commissioned it for our eighteenth birthday. I’ve always liked it.”
“So do I.” Ox said, gazing down at the picture in his hand. “Which one are you?”
Angel smiled. “See if you can figure it out. Not many people ever have.”
“Hmm.” Ox studied the painting intently. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I’m tempted to say the one on the right is Angel because she gets that look in her eye when she’s up to something. But I’ve seen you with the same expression.”
Angel was startled, for he had identified her correctly. Only Martha and Duncan had ever been able to tell them apart in the painting. As long as Ox never met Alexis, he’d have no reason to suspect a switch had been made. However, if he continued to study the picture the way he was, there was a possibility he’d figure it out. The miniature would have to disappear.
She focused on his clothing. “You’d better get out of those clothes before you catch your death.”
“You’re not going to tell me which one is you?” he asked in surprise.
“Nope. We never tell anybody.” She took the picture out of his hand and set it back on the mantel. “Meanwhile, you’re dripping all over my floor.”
“I managed to come to Cheyenne without my slicker. Your cloak did a better job of keeping you dry than my coat. I don’t suppose Angel left a change of clothes behind like she did her slippers,” he said.
“None that would fit you anyway. Hmm.” Angel glanced around the cabin until her gaze lit on the bed. “Just the thing,” she said, crossing the room and pulling the quilt off.
Ox turned red. “I can’t wear that.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Ox. This is no time for modesty. You’ll be completely covered. Now, sit down so I can help you get those boots off.”
“You’re doing it again,” he said with a chuckle.
“What?”
“Acting like Angel.”
“You mean Martha,” Angel said as she pushed him down on the chair. “You’re lucky she isn’t here. You’d already be out of those clothes, sitting with your feet in a tub of hot water and saying ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no ma’am’, as meek as a lamb.” Angel grabbed the heel and pulled off the first boot.
“I can hardly wait to meet this dragon.”
“Count your blessings.” She grunted as the other boot came off. “You can change behind the screen, and I promise I won’t peek.”
Angel took herself severely to task as he took the quilt and disappeared behind the screen. This was never going to work if she kept slipping like that. By the time Ox emerged in his damp union suit with the quilt wrapped securely around his waist, she had poured two cups of coffee and had her Alexis mask firmly in place. She kept her back turned until he settled himself on one of the chairs she’d placed by the fireplace. Only then did she join him, her gaze fixed on his face as though the sight of his clothes drying by the fire embarrassed her.
“So, what’s our next step?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
“We need the basics of a stage line.”
“You mean like horses, drivers, stations, that kind of thing?”
“A stage coach or two would be nice, too,” Ox said with a grin.
Angel laughed. “I suppose that is one of those little extras the customers appreciate.”
“Right, but not just any coach will do. We need a Concord coach.”
“Why?”
“There’s no way we’ll be able to compete with The Flying T unless what we offer is noticeably better. Concord coaches are the best coaches in the world. There are none faster or more durable, not to mention comfort.”
“Now there’s a revolutionary concept, a comfortable stagecoach.”
“It’s all in the suspension. The body sits on two thorough braces made of three-inch-thick leather straps, so it sways instead of jolts. It’s like riding down the road in a cradle.”
“I take it The Flying T doesn’t use Concord coaches.”
“Nope. Their coaches have steel springs. A trip in one of them is a bone-jarring ordeal you wouldn’t want to repeat if you could help it.”
“Well then, we’ll definitely buy Concord coaches,” Angel said decisively. “How many do we need?”
Ox grimaced. “That’s the problem. We may have a tough time getting even one. New coaches sell for twelve hundred dollars.”
“What!”
“I think I may know where we can get a couple of them for a lot less,” Ox said, “They’re both over ten years old, but they’re still in good shape.”
“Can we run it with only two coaches?”
“We can if we start small. We can begin with a run between here and Silver Springs Gulch, then branch out later, when we have more working capital. The problem is going to be coming up with enough money to get started.”
Angel looked thoughtful. “I could invest a fairly large sum right now.”
“There’s a great deal of risk involved, but that’s the way business operates. Generally, the more you risk, the better the payoff. Unfortunately, the coaches are only part of what it takes to put a stage line together. We’ll also need horses, drivers, stock tenders, station masters, freight wagons, bullwhackers, supplies, and feed for the animals.”
“In other words, we need money and lots of it,” Angel said. Alexis could finance the venture and never even feel the pinch, but she wasn’t here. If Angel invested all her money from The Green Garter and their venture failed... She pushed the thought away. They weren’t going to fail. “All right, then,” she said, going to the desk for paper and a pen. “Let’s see what we can do. How much do you figure it will cost for the horses?”
An hour and five
sheets of paper later, Angel stretched and rubbed the back of her neck. “We’re cutting it awfully close, but it looks good on paper.” The plan they had come up with would take every penny they both had. If it was successful, they would double, maybe triple their investment. If not...
“It all depends on whether or not we can get those coaches,” Ox was saying. “And we need to start thinking about a front man.”
“A front man?”
“Somebody needs to appear to be running the business for us, since we have to stay hidden. It will have to be someone we can trust. Once we find him, we’ll set up...”
Angel’s lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with her. She found herself focusing on Ox’s mouth rather than his words. He had such a nice mouth, with straight white teeth and sensuous lips. And his smile; it made her go all tingly inside. She especially loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned.
Her gaze lingered a moment on his lips, then drifted to his strong chin and moved down his neck to the wide shoulders she had always admired. They were just as impressive without his shirt and coat. Beneath the heavy flannel of his underwear, Angel could see the outline of well-defined muscles across his broad chest. Dreamily, she imagined her fingers leisurely undoing the buttons that ran down the front of his undershirt and reaching inside to explore the warm, supple skin and hard muscles that—
“Alexis...are you there?” Ox asked.
Angel jerked her mind back from its improper wanderings. She felt her face growing warm. What was she doing? “What…? Oh, sorry, I was half asleep. I was awake most of the night.”
“You had such a faraway look on your face, I wondered what was going on.”
“Just woolgathering.” She jumped to her feet and practically ran to the fireplace. “Your clothes are probably dry.” It only took her a moment to scoop up his pants, shirt and vest and return them to him.
His eyes twinkled as he accepted them and went behind the screen to get dressed. Angel wondered if he had any idea what she’d been thinking. How embarrassing.
“We’re going to need a meeting place,” he said from behind the screen. “There will be a lot of planning involved we won’t be able to pass off as flirting with each other.”
Silver Springs Page 9