A few minutes later, she came to the spot she remembered seeing from the window of the stage and sighed with relief. The huge limestone outcropping was plenty big enough to hide her from Dick’s gang if they decided to follow her. She dismounted and tied the horse on the other side. It wasn’t difficult to find a place to hide and watch the road; there were dozens in the castle-like formation.
After fifteen minutes, Angel was satisfied they had decided to leave well enough alone, and it was safe to go to Ox. She refused to even consider the possibility she was too late.
Suddenly, without warning, rough hands grabbed her from behind, and a bearded face loomed over her. “Well, well, what have we here? If it isn’t the little lady that set Dick’s gang on their ear.”
“So what if I am?” Angel tried unsuccessfully to jerk her arm away.
Her captor was a big bear of a man and seemed to find her struggles amusing. “You’re a feisty one, ain’t ya?”
“You don’t want to know how feisty I am,” she said. “Right now, Dick and his friends are very sorry they tangled with Crazy Alice.”
“Never had too much use for Dangerous Dick’s opinion.” He rubbed his chin consideringly. “I think I’d best take you to Mother Featherlegs.”
“I have no intention of going anywhere with you.”
“Don’t matter much what you want. Mother Featherlegs will be real interested in you.” With that, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
Angel pounded on his back with her fists, kicked any part of him she could reach with her feet, and yelled at the top of her lungs. She might as well have been an annoying mosquito for all the attention he paid her. Whether she liked it or not, Angel was going to meet Mother Featherlegs.
Chapter 17
“Put me down, you overgrown chunk of bear-bait!” Angel yelled, pounding on the broad back under her fists. None of her insults or physical abuse seemed to have any effect on the man. He just kept on walking. Hanging upside down over his shoulder, Angel had no idea where they were going, or even how far they’d come. All she knew was that her ears were beginning to buzz from all the blood flowing to her head.
“You’d best shut up,” he said suddenly as he heaved her off his shoulder and thrust her through a dark doorway. “You don’t want none of the others to hear you and come to investigate.”
“What others?” Angel asked as he shut the door in her face. She could hear him turning the wooden block that was nailed to the outside doorjamb. He was locking her in!
“You can’t leave me in here!”
“I’m going to go get Mother Featherlegs,” he said. “Won’t take but a minute, and you’ll be fine here in the meantime.”
“The hell I will,” she yelled at the top of her lungs as she pounded on the door. “This is a privy, you idiot!” She continued on in the same vein for a few minutes until it became obvious he was gone. Damn! There was nothing she could do but wait until he returned with Mother Featherlegs, whoever that was.
What a mess. Ox was hurt, maybe dying, and here she was, locked in an outhouse. Trying to ignore the stench, Angel reached out in the darkness to discover just how big her prison was. One step to the left and she touched a wall. Two to the right and she hit the other. There wasn’t even enough room to pace back and forth. Whoever had built it certainly hadn’t worried much about comfort.
“What the hell were you thinking, George?” a strident female voice rich with the south demanded outside. “That’s kidnapping, for God’s sake.”
“Nah, I just figured someone would give us a reward for givin’ her back.”
“It’s called collecting a ransom, and the marshal tends to take a dim view of it. The last thing we want is the law nosing around here.”
Angel heard the block on the door move and stiffened her back, uncertain what to expect. It might yet be possible to talk her way out of this. If not, she still had her knife strapped to her leg.
The door swung open, and Angel winced as the bright sunlight flooded in.
There was a moment of stunned silence. “Angel?”
As Angel’s eyes adjusted, the familiar face came into focus. “Didi?”
“In the flesh. What are you doing here?”
Angel nearly sagged with relief as she stepped out into the sunlight. “It’s a long story. To put it in a nutshell, there’s an injured man lying on the road about five miles back.” She glared at George accusingly. “I was headed back to help him when your friend grabbed me and brought me here.”
“How was I supposed to know you was a friend of Mother Featherlegs?” he asked plaintively.
Didi sighed. “I’m afraid a simple apology won’t do this time, George. Take Clyde and find this injured man for Angel.”
“I’d like to go along,” Angel said quickly. “He’s hurt pretty bad.”
“Nonsense, George can be as gentle as a mama bear when he wants to be. You and I have some catching up to do.”
Angel scowled. “We can do that later. Right now, I really think I ought to go with George. He may need help.”
“Going with George won’t do anything but make him nervous.” Didi cocked her head to one side. “It’s not like you to get so shook up over a man. He must be something special.”
“He’s my betrothed.”
“Well, well, well, the unconquerable Angel finally got bit, did she? Come on, you can tell me all about it while I fix you a bite to eat. George and Clyde will be back before you know it.”
Resigning herself to the inevitable, Angel followed Didi down the trail to a simple dugout built into the side of a hill. A brightly colored banner waved cheerfully from the roof and a scarlet blanket covered the doorway. “Where did you get the name Mother Featherlegs?” she asked as they entered the cool interior.
Didi grinned and hiked up her skirt to reveal a pair of bright red lace pantalettes. “You ought to see these flutter in the wind when I ride a horse. Folks say they look just like the leg feathers on a chicken.” She dropped her skirt. “Best advertisement I ever thought of.”
“Then you’re back in the profession?”
Didi nodded and made a sweeping motion with her hand. “Welcome to Mother Featherlegs’s dugout of ill-repute. The only pleasure palace of its kind between Cheyenne and Silver Springs Gulch.”
“What happened to Thomas? I thought you were on your way to happily ever after together.”
Didi smiled fondly. “Ah yes, Thomas. We lived the good life, him and me. Wore only the finest clothes, drank the best wines, ate the most expensive foods, stayed in the fanciest hotels. Best six months of my life.” She sighed. “But the money ran out and so did Thomas. Last I heard, he was working the river boats, gambling his way from one end of the Mississippi to the other.” There was no bitterness in her smile as she turned to the stone fireplace, only regret for a part of her life now over.
Angel frowned in disappointment. Didi was one of her first successes, or so she’d thought. She had known the older woman in the years before she’d gone to South Pass City. Didi had come from Louisiana, where her two sons had been lynched for a variety of crimes. Few women over the years had been more grateful for the freedom money than Didi. Angel wondered how many more of the women she’d saved had returned to a life of prostitution. She had really thought Didi was going to turn her life around.
“Heard you had a run-in with Dangerous Dick Davis and his gang,” Didi said, dishing up a bowl of stew from the pot on the fire.
“I guess so. They never actually got around to introducing themselves.”
“Oh, that’s who it was all right. George said you had Jake the Snake so shook up, he damn near peed his pants.” Didi chortled as she set the bowl on the table in front of Angel and poured two cups of coffee. “I want to hear all about it.”
“Poor Jake.” Angel smiled. “I don’t think he’ll forget Crazy Alice for a while.” As she regaled Didi with her afternoon’s adventures, she surreptitiously surveyed her surroundings. T
he interior of the dugout contained an odd assortment of items ranging from expensive trinkets of various kinds to kegs of nails and cases of whiskey. It appeared Mother Featherlegs dealt in more than pleasures of the flesh.
“Damn, I wish I could have seen it,” Didi said with a chuckle. “Those boys needed to be taken down a peg or two.”
“You know them well?”
Didi shrugged. “I’ve had business dealings with them now and then.” She turned toward the doorway and listened intently for a few seconds. “Sounds like George is back.”
Angel was outside in a blink of an eye. She arrived just in time to see George pull Ox off the back of his horse. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
“Uh-oh,” Mother Featherlegs said, coming up behind Angel. “You were too late?”
“Nope.” George transferred the limp body to his shoulder and headed toward the dugout. “Leastways, he was alive when we picked him up. Where do you want him?”
“I’ll put out the extra pallet,” Mother Featherlegs said, and hurried back into the dugout.
“Be careful,” Angel said, apprehensively following closely behind George. She could see the goose egg-sized lump on the back of Ox’s head from several feet away. Even more alarming was the red stain on his shirt. Please don’t let him be dead!
Ox groaned as George unceremoniously dumped him on the pallet.
“He’s alive!” Angel cried, dropping to her knees beside him.
“Sounds like it,” Didi observed, looking over Angel’s shoulder.
“Let’s hope we can keep him that way.” Angel eased Ox’s shirt open to examine the bullet hole in his arm. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. His whole shoulder and upper chest were so covered with blood that it took a moment to locate the wound in the fleshy part of his shoulder. “He’s lost so much blood.”
“Looks like the bleeding’s stopped, though,” Didi observed. “Could be it ain’t as bad as it looks. I’ll get you some hot water and clean rags.”
Angel bit her lip to stop it from quivering as she gazed down at Ox in the dim light. He was so pale. He was alive, but for how long? Tears spilled from her eyes and rolled unheeded down her cheeks.
“Ohhhhh,” Ox groaned, and opened his eyes.
“Don’t try to move,” Angel said hastily, swallowing against the knot in her throat. “You’re hurt.”
“What happened?” he asked, staring up at her in confusion. “I feel like I got caught in a buffalo stampede.”
Angel brushed the hair back from his brow with trembling fingers. “There was a stage hold up. As far as I could tell, the man riding shotgun was in with the gang and you tried to stop him.”
“I vaguely remember that. We fought for his gun.” Ox frowned. “I lost?”
“You lost.”
“My head feels like hell.”
“I think you landed on it when you fell off the stage.”
“Did they hurt you too?”
“No, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I was able to convince them to let me go. I think they were more interested in the strongbox than anything else.”
He brushed her cheek with his right hand. “Then why are you crying?”
“I can’t help it.” She captured his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “I was worried about you.”
“Don’t be. It’ll take more than a bump on the head and a hot poker in my shoulder to do me in.” His eyes started to drift shut. “I’m just glad Angel isn’t here to fix me up. I’m not sure I’d survive her tender mercies right now. She poured straight whiskey on my wound last time.”
“I’ll be as gentle as I can,” she said softly as he closed his eyes.
Mother Featherlegs returned with a steaming bowl of water and a pile of clean rags. “Is he awake?”
“He was, but I think he drifted off again.”
Mother Featherlegs nodded philosophically. “Probably better that way anyhow. Finding out if the bullet’s still in there won’t be too pleasant.”
“For any of us,” Angel said with a grimace. “Just pray we don’t kill him.”
But by the time the two women had Ox’s wound cleaned and bandaged, Angel was feeling much more positive. The bullet had passed clear through the fleshy part of his arm. She prayed it wouldn’t start bleeding again or become infected.
When and how they would get back to Cheyenne caused her far more concern. Even if he could travel, they had no transportation, and Mother Featherlegs changed the subject every time Angel mentioned leaving. It appeared they were staying where they were for the night at least.
Dusk fell, and Angel helped Mother Featherlegs put up a curtain to separate Ox’s pallet from the rest of the room. After another meal of stew, Angel settled down next to Ox for the night. The pallet was narrow, and Ox’s broad shoulders filled much of the available space, but Angel didn’t mind. His breath on her cheek and the slow steady beat of his heart against her body assured her he was still alive. Only his wound kept her from putting her arms around him to hold him safe.
She slept fitfully, often awakening to voices on the other side of the curtain. More than once, she heard the unmistakable sounds of Mother Featherlegs servicing her customers and wished she had a pillow to cover her head. Shortly after midnight, a loud argument disturbed her sleep again.
“Damn it, Mother Featherlegs, it’s solid gold!”
“That may very well be, but I can’t give you more than two dollars for it.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Too hard to get rid of. Here, look at this set of initials...”
Suddenly, Angel understood. That was why George had brought her here, expecting to be paid. Mother Featherlegs had a business relationship with all of them: Dangerous Dick, Jake the Snake, even George. She was a fence, the one who paid them for their ill-gotten gains. This was a hot-bed of thievery, and Angel and Ox were smack dab in the middle of it!
Chapter 18
“Damn!” Ox muttered as he shifted uncomfortably on the pallet.
Angel jerked awake. “What’s the matter?”
“You mean other than there isn’t a spot on me that doesn’t hurt?”
She propped herself up on one elbow and looked down at him. “You’re lucky to be alive. Not only did you fall off a stage going full speed down the road, you have a bullet hole the size of Colorado through your arm.”
“How bad is it?”
“If that bullet had been a little more to the right, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. As it is, I imagine you’ll be back on your feet harassing your grandfather in no time.” She put her hand on his forehead to check for fever. “I wish I could do something to make you feel better in the meantime.”
He reached up and touched her cheek. “Just having you here makes me feel better.” The husky tone of Ox’s voice was devastating as his fingers moved from the side of her face to the back of her neck and gently pulled her head down. Angel didn’t even think of stopping him. She’d come too close to losing him today. Her lips parted unconsciously as his breath whispered across them in a feather-light caress.
It was like satin on silk, soft and lush as Angel’s lips echoed the sensual caress of his. Passion swirled between them like a spring zephyr, wildly exhilarating, and completely wonderful. Their bodies shifted together, the kiss deepening, and their pleasure mounting rapidly until Ox inadvertently moved his wounded shoulder.
“Damn!” he said, sucking air in through clenched teeth.
“Are you all right?” Angel asked.
“I’ve been better.” He winced as he eased his shoulder back down onto the pallet. “You weren’t joking about that bullet wound, were you?”
“No. I had a hard time getting it bandaged.”
“Was that before or after you had your way with me?”
Angel raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
He grinned and rubbed his good hand across his bare chest. “It seemed a logical conclusion when I woke up half-naked and in bed with you.”
“Wi
shful thinking on your part,” Angel tossed her head. “I never take advantage of sleeping men.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“There’s no challenge in it,” she said, tapping the end of his nose with her finger. “As for your shirt and coat, they were in worse shape than you were, so I got rid of them.”
“Where are we anyway?” he said sniffing experimentally. “I could swear I smell freshly plowed ground,” he said.
“We’re in Mother Featherlegs’ dugout.”
“Mother Featherlegs! What kind of a name is that?”
“She seems to be a friend of Angel’s.”
“Uh-oh,” he said. “You didn’t tell me we were in dubious company.”
“Just because she’s a friend of Angel’s doesn’t mean anything,” Angel said, stung by his words. “Not all of Angel’s friends are disreputable, I’m sure. Look at you.”
“My point exactly. The Ox Bruford she knows is as disreputable as they come.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me this Mother Featherlegs is an upstanding citizen?”
“Not exactly. She seems to do an awful lot of entertaining.”
Ox grinned. “And most of her visitors are men?”
“So far, all of them.” She gave him a troubled look. Ox needed to know the situation. It might well take them both to get out of this predicament. “There’s more to it than that, Ox. I think she’s buying and selling stolen goods.”
“A fence, huh?” Ox yawned. “Sounds like this Mother Featherlegs is exactly what we need. Too bad Angel isn’t here to take advantage of the situation. I doubt I’ll be able to cut as good a deal.”
Angel glared at him. “The things you say about my sister never cease to amaze me. Honestly, you make her sound like an immoral opportunist.”
“An opportunist she is, but in her case that’s no insult. Angel has an uncanny knack of turning every situation into an opportunity. As often as not, both sides benefit.”
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