Angel Peak

by Shirleen Davies

  Tossing back the last of his whiskey, he raised the glass, signaling the bartender. Another drink and he’d ride back to the canyon hideout. He’d been riding with the gang for almost a year, robbing stagecoaches, banks, and the infrequent train. Those were more difficult, requiring them to ride long distances as the railroad didn’t come anywhere close to South Pass City.

  During this time, they’d lost only one man, their haul totaling in the thousands. Divided up, each member of the gang accumulated enough to live comfortably for years. Too bad none of them could live that life anywhere except in the company of other outlaws.

  Wanted posters, determined bounty hunters, and the occasional lawman limited their options. Someday, Chad hoped to ride west, outrun his past, and start over. He’d heard about San Francisco, a town accepting all kinds of men, no matter their profession or past.

  Sipping his second whiskey, Chad allowed himself to think about what he’d been considering for months. He’d heard the bounty hunter who’d killed his brothers had retreated back to Texas, giving up when he couldn’t find him.

  To be certain, Chad had waited. The time had come to cut his ties with the gang, take his money, and disappear.

  Several of those he rode with had spoken of a town in western Montana. He’d heard the territorial capital of Big Pine was large enough to hide without detection and offered plenty of work. Not that he cared about a legitimate job with low pay.

  Chad didn’t intend to spend more than a week, two at most, before leaving. If the rumors were true about the bounty hunter returning to Texas, he wanted to put as much distance between them as possible. Chad held no illusions about the ex-Texas Ranger. Covington would come for him someday, and he had no intention of ever being caught.

  The gang had one more stage robbery planned and another targeting a gold wagon transferring ore from a nearby mine. When those were over and the money split between them, he’d ride north and eventually west. The thriving city on the Pacific Coast called to him. Untamed and populated with those who skirted the edges of the law, it was the perfect spot for an outlaw looking for new opportunities.

  Chapter Four

  Splendor

  “You must tell me all about your supper with Caleb.” Sylvia Mackey sat across the table from May, sipping her coffee, glancing over the rim.

  Feeling her cheeks heat, May stared down at the untouched stew. “It was wonderful.” Biting her lower lip, she looked up. “Caleb is so good with Isaac. Patient and kind. Being a father comes naturally to him.”

  “And what did you think of Isaac?”

  She smiled, remembering the night before. “He’s the cutest little boy I’ve ever seen. And quite smart. When he’s not playing, he’s talking, or trying to talk. Isaac is so full of joy. I haven’t laughed so much in a long time.”

  “Did Caleb explain anything to you?”

  May’s shoulders slumped. “Between Isaac and fixing supper, we had no time to talk before I had to return to the boardinghouse.”

  Sylvia wrapped both hands around her cup. “Did he ask to see you again?”

  Face brightening, she nodded. “Yes. I don’t know when, but I’m hoping we’ll have time to talk then.” She turned at the sound of the door opening.

  Sylvia spoke first, her voice just above a whisper. “It’s the new woman from back east.” They watched as Betts showed her to a table across the room. “We really should introduce ourselves. She’s been in town several weeks and is always alone.”

  “I wonder what brought her to Splendor. I mean, she’s obviously a woman of means. Why would she travel all the way to Montana if not to meet family or friends?”

  Sylvia nodded at their empty plates. “If you’re finished, we’ll introduce ourselves before leaving.”

  Standing, they straightened their skirts, Sylvia leading the way to the woman’s table.

  “I hope we’re not intruding.”

  The woman startled at Sylvia’s words, glancing between the two young women. “No, not at all.”

  Sylvia cleared her throat. “I’m Mrs. Sylvia Mackey and this is Miss May Bacon. We’ve seen you in town but have never had a chance to greet you properly.”

  The woman’s serene expression brightened, eyes flickering. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you. I’m Mrs. Clare Billings. Won’t you join me?” The hope on her face had them glancing at each other before Sylvia answered.

  “We don’t want to impose.”

  “Oh, it wouldn’t be an imposition at all. Please.” Clare motioned to two chairs. “Would you join me for lunch?”

  May answered. “We’ve just finished, but I do have time for a cup of tea.”

  “And you, Mrs. Mackey?” Clare asked.

  “Tea would be wonderful.”

  Clare ordered the drinks when Betts walked over. When she left them alone, Clare looked at them. “I’m sure you must be wondering why I’m in Splendor.”

  May let a smile tilt her lips. “Well, yes. You see, we both came here as mail order brides.” She saw Clare’s brows raise at the admission. “Sylvia recently married one of the deputies, Mack Mackey. I believe we saw you at the celebration afterward.”

  Clare blushed a little. “I know I shouldn’t have joined you, but the lively music and laughter drew me to the church. I must apologize for intruding on your wedding day, Mrs. Mackey.”

  “Nonsense. I’m glad you did. May I be candid?”

  Clare nodded. “Please.”

  “Well, May and I heard you came all the way from Boston. Is it true?”

  She waited until Betts set down the cups of tea and walked off. “Why, yes. My husband passed a few years ago. After a time, I became bored with my uninspiring life as a widow.” She ran a finger along the rim of her cup. “Since we never had children, I decided to come west.”

  May’s eyes widened. “By yourself?”

  Clare chuckled, although a sad expression replaced the serenity of a moment before. “I’ve learned to do many things alone, Miss Bacon.” Straightening her back, she tilted her head. “I’d heard an old acquaintance traveled out here years ago and I hoped to find him.”

  “Him?” Sylvia asked, a brow lifting.

  “Yes. Quite inappropriate, I know. Still, I’ve been curious about him for quite a long time. Unfortunately, I never had time to reintroduce myself. At breakfast in the Eagle’s Nest the day after I arrived, I overheard some people mention he’d left to visit friends. I’ve no idea when he’ll return.”

  May leaned forward, her voice lowering. “So he does live in Splendor?”

  Clare let out a shaky breath. “Yes. I saw him the same day I arrived on the stage. Regrettably, I couldn’t quite overcome my apprehension at facing him before he took the stage out of Splendor.”

  “Unrequited love,” Sylvia breathed out.

  “What?” Clare asked.

  Sylvia blushed. “I read about it in one of the dime novels Mr. Petermann orders for Isabella Dixon. When she finishes them, Isabella often offers them to me. So, is he someone you loved long ago?”

  “Sylvia,” May gasped. “You can’t ask Mrs. Billings such a personal question.”

  A smile appeared on Clare’s face. “It’s quite all right. Yes, we loved each other many years ago. Now, I’m reconsidering my actions. I acted impulsively by coming all this way without notifying him.” She glanced out the window, wishing she’d been more courageous when she first arrived. “From what I’ve learned, he isn’t married, but he may be seeing someone or otherwise committed. Worse…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Worse?” Sylvia encouraged.

  Clare looked away from the window. “He may not remember me at all.”

  “I’m afraid that would be impossible, Mrs. Billings.” Sylvia and Clare turned their attention to May. “I mean, you’re incredibly beautiful and quite nice. It’s doubtful any man would forget you.” It was the truth. Tall and slender with clear skin and a graceful manner, Clare’s dark mahogany hair highlighted with streaks of silver gave her
a regal appearance.

  “She’s right. I can’t imagine any man forgetting you, Mrs. Billings.” Sylvia touched a finger to her lips. “If I recall correctly, Rachel Pelletier is from Boston. A prominent family. Is your friend also from Boston?”

  Clare clasped her hands together in her lap. “Yes, he is. I understand he finished medical school and became a doctor.”

  May and Sylvia shot surprised gazes at each other.

  “Perhaps you know him. His name is Charles Worthington.”

  The following day, May sat next to Caleb at Suzanne’s, taking small bites of quail pot pie. He’d spotted her walking to the telegraph office to post a letter to her father, asking her to join him for lunch. She hadn’t expected to spend time with him before church on Sunday. His invitation had surprised and pleased her. Unfortunately, her thoughts were still on Clare and the reason for her visit to Splendor.

  “You’re awfully quiet today, May. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m sorry, Caleb. Yes, I’m feeling fine. I was just thinking about someone Sylvia and I met yesterday.”

  Pushing his empty plate away, he leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. “We’ve had several people arrive in town the last few weeks. Which one are you talking about?”

  She chewed her bottom lip, deciding it wouldn’t be breaking a confidence to tell him. “It’s a widow woman who arrived a few weeks ago. Her name is Clare Billings. She’s from Boston.”

  “The older woman staying at the St. James?”

  “That’s her. Syl and I have seen her several times, but she’s always alone. We introduced ourselves yesterday when we had lunch at McCall’s.” She took another bite of pot pie. Not wanting to reveal any more, May shifted the conversation to a topic of much more importance. “You still haven’t told me about your past.”

  The smile tugging at Caleb’s lips fell, his expression clouded. “Not now.” Standing, he grabbed his hat from the seat next to him. “Thank you for joining me, May. I need to get back to the jail. Stay as long as you like.”

  Stunned, she stared at his retreating back. Forcing herself to ignore the initial anger surging through her, she watched as he left without the slightest glimpse behind him.

  Glancing at the other tables, she sighed in relief, thankful no one had noticed the scene. He hadn’t raised his voice or done anything to garner unwanted attention. Other than leaving her confused, his actions would’ve seemed normal to everyone else.

  Waiting a few minutes, May slid from the seat, picking up her reticule. She’d been thrilled when Caleb offered to accompany her to work after lunch. The initial elation had turned to distress after he’d left.

  Her request to speak of his past shouldn’t have surprised him, nor should it have caused such a strong reaction. Caleb hadn’t seemed angry. Rather, he’d stiffened, becoming cold and distant.

  As she walked along the boardwalk toward the St. James, May couldn’t help wondering what about his past distressed Caleb so much. She, and everyone at the wedding, knew Isaac’s mother had been a saloon girl. Beyond that, the woman was a mystery. May pondered the depth of his affection for Isaac’s mother. Did he love her? She had so many questions, not having the right to ask even one.

  The woman who’d delivered Isaac to his father disappeared as fast as she’d appeared, leaving no time for Caleb to ask after his son’s mother. Then again, Caleb would’ve already known all he needed. His life in Austin wasn’t the mystery to him it was to May.

  Climbing the steps to the hotel, she stopped at shouting from the opposite end of the street. Turning, her face brightened. She’d always thought the stagecoach’s arrival felt similar to Christmas mornings back home. You never knew who would emerge, what stories they’d share, including their reasons for traveling to Splendor.

  She remembered the day of her arrival with the three other mail order brides. Fear, excitement, and hope merged as she’d stepped from the stage. May chuckled at the memory. Life in the small frontier town had been nothing like what she’d left behind in New Jersey. There’d been no friends like Sylvia or men like Caleb. A disillusioned breath left her, mood shifting at the reminder of how he’d left her alone at the table.

  Shaking her head, May turned from the stage, then whirled around at the all too familiar bellow of laughter.

  “It couldn’t be,” she muttered to herself, her hand tightening on the stair rail. Taking one cautious step down, she narrowed her gaze to get a good look at an older, slender man of above average height and graying beard talking to Noah Brandt, the blacksmith and owner of the livery.

  Her throat tightened, eyes filled with tears as recognition struck. Her steps became faster until she broke into a run.

  “Father!”

  Dillard Bacon whipped around, a broad smile breaking across his face, arms spread wide. “May, my girl!” He engulfed her in a tight embrace. Pulling away, he caught her shoulders. “Let me look at you. You are a sight, my girl.”

  She swiped moisture from her cheeks. “What are you doing here? You never sent word of a visit.” A gentle cough caught her attention, her gaze landing on a short, squat woman standing next to her father. Next to her stood a young man. Stepping away, May looked between them.

  “May, this is Oliver Keenan, my stepson.” He sent a warm look at the woman next to him. “And this is Pauline, my wife.”

  Before May could respond, the woman stepped forward, holding out a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, May. I’m your new mother.”

  Muttering every bad word she knew, May peeled potatoes for the meals that evening. “Mother,” she bit out on an angry growl. She couldn’t believe the ridiculous woman actually believed she needed a mother.

  It was an unusual occurrence for her to dislike someone on sight, and although May tried to ignore the churning in her stomach, she couldn’t find anything appealing about Pauline. It wasn’t her appearance, which was frumpy but passable.

  The first tick of irritation came when May noticed her mother’s brooch pinned to the woman’s ample chest. It had been a gift from her father a few years before her mother died. After the funeral, her father had given May all her mother’s jewelry, telling her he’d keep it safe until she married. If the pin wasn’t enough to sour her toward the woman, she also wore one of her mother’s rings and a hatpin.

  But something else niggled at May, a vague memory from her life in New Jersey. She’d met Oliver before. She just couldn’t remember where or when. May guessed him to be a little older than her. Of average height and weight, his light brown hair didn’t set him apart from many men. It was the yellowish hue of his eyes and sallow complexion that triggered the recollection, along with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  Peeling the last potato, she rinsed it in a bucket before setting it on top of the rest. She wished there’d been more time to talk with her father before reporting to her job in the hotel kitchen. After the quick reunion, she’d accompanied them to the hotel lobby, making an apology before hurrying through the restaurant.

  Her father, Pauline, and Oliver would be settling into their rooms upstairs. Working today was a blessing. She wouldn’t have to face them at supper tonight, but May knew he’d want to spend time with her during his visit. Share meals, maybe take a buggy out to see the area.

  Picking up a knife, she cut potatoes, cleaned green beans, and began the dough for rolls, all while wondering why her father had traveled such a long distance with his new wife. He wouldn’t make the trip just to visit her. Of that, May was certain. His life back east revolved around breeding and training racehorses, spending all his time at Freehold Raceway or gambling with his friends at local pubs and gentlemen’s clubs. There were many who believed him a charlatan, although there’d never been proof of him doing anything illegal.

  May acknowledged his animated personality, boisterous with a tendency toward buffoonery at times. As obnoxious as some people found him, he had a big heart and would never maliciously hurt someone.

  Still, the r
umors of him dealing in fraudulent practices had spread, impacting her opportunities for a good marriage. She’d lost two potential suitors who believed the gossip. Her father’s protracted absences and the scarcity of men willing to call on her propelled May to contact Pettigrew’s. The letter ultimately resulted in her traveling to Splendor.

  No matter how much she disagreed with her father’s chosen ways of making money, he was still the man who’d provided for May after her mother died. She just didn’t understand his attraction to Pauline. Two women couldn’t have been more different.

  “Miss Bacon, I need the vegetables.”

  She whirled to see Gary staring at her, as if it hadn’t been his first request. “I have them right here.” Hurrying over, she placed the bowl on the counter, then returned to her spot.

  May had spoken to Gary about adding her pastries to the menu. As expected, he refused her suggestion, telling her he couldn’t chance someone with so little formal training. The following day, she’d made pastries in Suzanne’s kitchen, taking them to the St. James for her appointment with Lena. The part-owner of the hotel and restaurant raved about them, assured May she’d talk to Gary, then encouraged her to take the leftovers to Caleb. She still hadn’t heard back from Lena, but hoped it would work out in her favor.

  Forcing herself to concentrate on her work, she shoved thoughts of family, her job, and Caleb out of her mind. She was already tired and ready for the day to end.

  The arrival of her father, his wife, and her son, along with Caleb’s odd behavior, had drained away the optimistic mood of the morning. Pounding the dough, shoving hair out of her eyes, May hoped tomorrow wouldn’t be more of the same.

  Chapter Five

  Caleb ran a hand over Isaac’s hair, heart clenching as he watched his son sleep. As he did each night when tucking him into bed, he thought of Sadie, how he’d ridden out of Austin, guilt tight in his chest. Caleb had mentioned leaving, but hadn’t taken the time to say goodbye on the morning he’d saddled Twister. He hadn’t even spared her bedroom window a glance when he rode past the saloon. The memory would haunt him the rest of his life.