Silver Springs

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Silver Springs Page 17

by Carolyn Lampman


  “A mercenary then.”

  Ox shook his head. “Nope, a friend. Every one of those less than sterling acquaintances of hers will sing her praises to the sky.” He smiled softly. “Including me.”

  “You don’t have anything nice to say about her when I’m around,” Angel said, only slightly mollified.

  “Only a damn fool would complement one woman when he’s with another.” His eyes drifted closed. “I didn’t say much about you when I saw her either. Of course, I don’t think she’d take offense at anything I said about you.”

  A moment later, he was asleep again, and Angel stared down at him in consternation. It sounded almost as if Ox liked Alexis better than Angel. She had the uneasy suspicion the emotion twisting her stomach into knots was jealousy. But how could she be jealous of herself, for heaven’s sake?

  Angel lay back down and stared at the ceiling. What had Ox meant about Mother Featherlegs being exactly what they needed, and what kind of a deal was he talking about? Angel had the oddest feeling it might also be the way out for them. Ox certainly hadn’t been unduly worried about the shaky circumstances they were in. But then, she was beginning to think he had more faith in her abilities than she did.

  Angel was on the edge of sleep before she figured it out. Of course! She should have thought of it herself. Ox was dead right; Mother Featherlegs was exactly what they needed! With her help, the downfall of The Flying T could happen twice as fast. What a perfect opportunity.

  She listened to the sounds on the other side of the barrier carefully. When the last customer left, Angel rose from the pallet and peeked around the curtain. Didi was alone at the table drinking coffee.

  “Want some company?” Angel asked.

  Didi smiled and nodded toward the other chair. “Grab some coffee and sit a spell.”

  “Busy night?” Angel poured herself a cup of coffee and returned to the table.

  “About usual. Thought I heard you talking awhile ago. Your man wake up?”

  “For a few minutes. He was in some pain, but he seems to be sleeping now, rather than unconscious like he was before.”

  “He should be fit as a fiddle before long then.” Didi glanced toward the curtain. “I can see why you picked him. Even with all them bruises, he’s mighty easy on the eye.”

  “He’s a good man, too.” Angel took a sip of coffee. “Can I trust you, Didi?”

  She was surprised by the question. “You know you can. Why?”

  “Ever heard of The Silver Springs Express?”

  Didi gave her a wary look. “Think so, though I ain’t real sure.”

  “Ox and I own it.”

  “You do?”

  “Lock, stock, and stagecoach.” Angel set her cup down carefully. “We started it for one reason and one reason only. We plan to put The Flying T out of business and make its owners squirm in the process.”

  Didi raised an eyebrow. “Since when are you into revenge?”

  “Since Richard Brady and James Treenery decided to stick their noses into my business.”

  Didi listened with great interest as Angel told a rather creative version of the circumstances surrounding the beginning of The Silver Springs Express. “Well,” she said when the story was finished. “If ever two men deserved what they get, it’s those two. Just wish there was some way I could help you do them in.”

  Angel gave her a conspiratorial smile. “As a matter of fact, there is.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the two women grinned at each other across the table, both extremely pleased with the deal they’d struck.

  “I have the feeling this is going to be a long and profitable relationship for us all, Mother Featherlegs,” Angel said, sitting back in her chair.

  Didi raised her coffee cup. “To profit.”

  Angel raised her own cup. “And friendship.”

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” Didi asked after they’d drunk their toast.

  “Sure.” Angel grinned. “Of course, I may not answer it.”

  “Does your man know about your past?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean not exactly? Either he knows, or he doesn’t.”

  “He thinks I’m someone else. Alexis Smythe, to be precise.”

  “Sounds like a school marm or something.”

  “A rich widow.”

  Didi nodded. “Good choice. Best way I know of to explain away the extra mileage.”

  Angel frowned down at her coffee. “You know, there is something that worries me a little.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We were due in Silver Springs Gulch this afternoon. They’re bound to come looking for us soon.”

  “Who is?”

  “It’s hard to say. I wouldn’t put it past Richard Brady to send out the sheriff.”

  Mother Featherlegs blanched. “The sheriff’s going to know Dangerous Dick and his gang robbed that stage. He just might decide this is where they hang out, especially when he finds the stage passengers here.”

  “We could tell him George rescued us.”

  “George ain’t known for his charity.”

  “What if the sheriff were to find us somewhere else? He wouldn’t have any reason to come here.”

  “True,” Mother Featherlegs agreed, “but can’t very well dump both of you on the road in the middle of the night. That man of yours ain’t exactly the picture of health right now.”

  “We can’t stay here, either.”

  “What about the stage?” Mother Featherlegs asked suddenly. “It’s still on the road where Dangerous Dick left it.”

  “Won’t do us any good without horses and a driver,” Angel pointed out.

  Mother Featherlegs smiled. “George could find some horses and drive the stage.”

  Angel raised an eyebrow. “What if he’s seen?”

  “Nobody pays much attention to a stage driver. Don’t reckon the sheriff will even notice him.” Mother Featherlegs walked purposefully to the door and pulled back the blanket. “Go get the stagecoach, George. You’re going to take these two to Silver Springs Gulch.” The blanket dropped back into place. “That’s taken care of. Now all you need to do is dress your man.” She crossed the room to a dilapidated old dresser where she rummaged around for a few minutes, then handed Angel a worn cotton shirt. “It ain’t much, but it will do.”

  “Thanks.” Angel smiled gratefully as she accepted the shirt. “I’ll have him dressed and ready to go right away.”

  It turned out to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. She had to shake his good shoulder three times before he blinked groggily up at her. “Decide to have your way with me after all?” he asked sleepily.

  “You have a one-track mind, Bruford. “

  Ox smiled. “You haven’t called me Bruford in a long time, Angel.”

  She was dismayed for several seconds before she realized he was only half awake. “The name’s Alexis,” she said briskly.

  “Kisses just like Angel,” he murmured. “Good thing she doesn’t slug the same.”

  “Can you sit up if I help you?”

  “Think so. Why?”

  “We have to get you dressed,” she said, pushing his arm through the shirt sleeve. “We’re leaving.”

  “Ouch! You don’t have to be so rough.”

  “And you could be more cooperative.”

  By the time George finally returned with the stagecoach, Ox was fully dressed, had eaten a bowl of stew, and was no longer confused. He was even able to walk out to the stagecoach by himself, though George had to help him climb in.

  “Sorry things happened the way they did,” Mother Featherlegs said, giving Angel a hug. “But I’m glad you wound up here. I’m looking forward to doing business with you.”

  “Me too.” Angel climbed into the stage, then leaned out the window and waved as they pulled away.

  “What did she mean, she was looking forward to doing business with you?” Ox asked when she pulled her head in and settled back into the seat.


  Angel shrugged. “I had that discussion you suggested with her. She loved the idea and accepted my terms without question.”

  “Oh, and what exactly were your terms?”

  “We let them know which stages to hit for ten percent of the take. All deals are off if there’s any killing.”

  “Only ten percent? No wonder she was pleased with the terms. Do you think we can trust her?”

  “Of course not, but I do know she’ll keep up appearances. I got what we really wanted. The Flying T will get all the harassment and they’ll leave The Silver Springs Express alone.”

  Chapter 19

  “Damn it, Treenery; this is the third time this month you’ve sent me one of these.” Richard Brady slammed a telegram down on the desk.

  Ox laid his pen down and sat back in his chair. “I thought you wanted me to keep you informed of what was going on.”

  “Informed, not forced to traipse out to Wyoming every other week to take care of the stage line. That’s your job. Should be simple enough.”

  Ox’s face darkened. “So hire someone else. I never wanted this job in the first place.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  “I want to know what the hell is going on.”

  “I’d have thought that was fairly obvious,” Ox said, gesturing toward the telegram. “A gang of outlaws is working the road between here and Silver Springs Gulch. They seem particularly fond of stagecoaches and supply wagons.”

  “Especially those belonging to The Flying T!” Richard snapped. “What are you doing about it?”

  “Not a whole lot I can do except put on extra guards and keep our shipment schedule secret.”

  “It doesn’t seem to be doing much good, does it?”

  “I’m open to suggestions.”

  Richard glared at him for a minute as he considered the possibilities. “How about outriders?” he said finally.

  “I’ll hire some if you’ll authorize it. My grandfather wouldn’t even consider it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Too expensive. We’d have to hire at least five men to cover all our stages, and that’s if we only put one on each run. We really ought to have two for it to be effective. My grandfather thought that would cut into our profits too much.”

  “How about alternative routes?”

  Ox looked thoughtful. “That might be doable, especially with the supply wagons. Of course, we still have to hit all our stops with the stage on schedule to pick up passengers, but if we took different roads whenever possible, we wouldn’t be as open to ambush.”

  “Are you ready to go, Ox?” Angel said, breezing through the door in a swirl of perfume. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw her father. “Good heavens, Father, when did you get back to town? Vanessa didn’t say a word about expecting you.”

  “She didn’t know I was coming. This was an unplanned trip.”

  “Your father was concerned about a problem we’re having with The Flying T,” Ox said, rising from his chair and coming around the desk. He took her hands and smiled lovingly down at her before dropping a kiss on her forehead.

  “Oh, pooh,” Angel said petulantly as she stripped off her gloves. “All you ever talk about is that stupid stage line.”

  “That’s what your father and my grandfather hired me to do.”

  “I know, but it takes up so much of your time. Last week, all I heard was how wonderful Concord coaches are.”

  Richard gave her a sharp look. “Concord coaches?”

  “That’s what The Silver Springs Express runs,” Angel explained. “Ox says they’re the best coaches money can buy.”

  “Is that right? You seem to know a lot about our competition, Treenery.”

  “It’s always wise to know the competition,” Ox replied.

  “How have they been fairing with the outlaws?”

  “I have no idea. They don’t exactly confide in me.”

  Angel looked confused. “I thought you said they hadn’t been hit.”

  “That’s just what I heard. I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

  Brady frowned. “Don’t you think it might be worth checking out?”

  “I can if you think it’s necessary,” Ox said. “But I really don’t see what difference it would make.”

  Richard Brady looked disgusted. “Never mind. Have you heard anything from your grandfather?”

  “No, but that isn’t unusual.”

  “His grandfather is on his way to California and won’t be back for a couple of weeks. How much longer are you going to be, Ox?” Angel asked. “You promised to take me shopping.”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. Your father came a long way to discuss business with me.”

  “Oh, darling, you promised,” Angel said with her best Alexis pout.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Go ahead and take her,” Richard said in disgust. “I’m leaving anyway.”

  “But you just got here,” Ox protested.

  “I found out what I needed to know.”

  “Will we see you at tea?” Angel asked her father.

  “Tea... I’m not sure. There’s something I need to do this afternoon. I’ll be leaving in the morning, Treenery, and I want to look at the books before I go.”

  “You can look at them now if you want.”

  “You don’t have time now,” Angel said, tugging on Ox’s arm. “We need to get going. There was the cutest little hat downtown. I want to get there before someone else does.”

  Richard gave his daughter a withering look. “I’ll look at those books first thing in the morning, Treenery. Have an enjoyable afternoon,” he said sarcastically as he walked out the door.

  Angel went over to the window and peeked out. She watched her father ride away, then turned back to Ox with a wicked grin. “You owe me six bits, sweetheart,” she said, batting her eyes. “I told you my father would respond faster than your grandfather.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, darling.” He pulled a telegram out of his desk drawer and pushed it across the polished surface toward her. “I received this less than an hour after I sent mine to him.”

  Angel picked up the paper and scanned it. “My, my, he sounds most upset. Hiring a Pinkerton detective, no less.”

  “I suspect that’s an exaggeration, but I have no doubt someone will be here before the week’s out.”

  “From the look on Father’s face, I’d say he’ll have one nosing around before too long as well.”

  “Especially after you got done with him.” Ox grinned. “It’s strange, I don’t remember promising to go shopping with you.”

  “Don’t you? Hmm, it must have been the same time we discussed your grandfather’s trip to California and Concord coaches. Now then, about that hat...”

  “Sorry, I have pressing business I can’t put off.”

  “It figures.” Angel sighed dramatically. “You men have no understanding of the truly important things in life.”

  Ox chuckled. “Ah, yes, the frivolous widow, guaranteed to drive her father crazy. So much safer than the shrewd businesswoman he’s never allowed to see. I can’t help but wonder which one of you is the real Alexis.”

  Angel closed her eyes as if in great pain. “Choosing a hat is not frivolous. Though you obviously don’t realize it, selecting and buying a proper hat takes as much shrewd business sense as anything else I do.”

  “Sure it does.”

  “Come with me and see,” Angel challenged, tossing her head.

  “Alas, duty calls,” Ox said regretfully. “I really do need to ride over to Silver Springs Gulch and warn Sam. Want to come along?”

  “No, thanks. That little excursion last month was plenty for me. In fact, it was one trip too many as far as I’m concerned.”

  Ox flexed his fingers and rotated his shoulder. “Didn’t enjoy it much myself. I have to admit, though, our plan is moving along twice as fast since you found Mother Featherlegs.”

 
“True. It almost made the trip worthwhile...almost. I’d best be on my way.”

  “Give Jessie my regards.”

  Angel’s smile faltered for an instant, then came back as brightly as before. “I’ll do that, and you tell Sam hello for me,” she said, pulling her gloves back on.

  Ox walked her outside and helped her into the buggy. “Good luck with the great bonnet hunt.”

  Angel gave him a pained look. “Hat, my love, hat. There is a great deal of difference, you know.”

  “And too difficult for a mere man to comprehend, no doubt,” he said with a grin as she picked up the reins.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Have a good trip,” she said, blowing him a kiss. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Right. Good-bye.” Ox leaned on the hitching rack and watched her drive down the street with a soft smile on his face. He had no doubt she’d be sporting an extremely frivolous hat the next time he saw her. Sometimes her streak of silliness set his teeth on edge, but the way she handled her father was nothing short of masterful.

  It was times like this when she reminded him most strongly of Angel. And, he admitted to himself as he straightened and went back into the office, it was times like this when he loved her the most.

  Angel drove the short distance to the milliner shop with a frown on her face. How she wished she was going there on the trifling errand Ox thought she was. Miss Jones’s terse note this morning requesting an interview filled her with foreboding. She had a feeling she was going to have to find Jessie another job.

  This one had seemed so promising. All Jessie had to do was keep the workroom straightened and bring the customers refreshments. There was very little thought involved. At least she hadn’t come home in tears like she had from the dressmaker’s shop, when she’d ruined an expensive dress and been fired on the spot. She tearfully explained that she hadn’t understood how different dressmaking skills were from needlework. Though she was good with embroidery, no one had ever taught her how to actually sew.

  Looking for a place to tie her horse, Angel glanced up and down the street in surprise. Every available space was taken. How odd. Usually only saloons and brothels drew such crowds. There was nothing here but a few quiet businesses.

  With a shrug, Angel tied the reins to the brake lever and turned her mind to the meeting as she climbed down from her carriage. She had the distinct feeling this was going to be anything but pleasant. Mentally preparing herself for a confrontation, Angel stepped through the door and stopped in amazement.

 

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