Ain't No Angel (4 page)

“We’ll make this quick, and then we can be on our way to my ranch. I’m sure you’re tired from your journey and want to get settled.”

Laney stared up at him. “Make what quick?” She pulled her arm away from his, and stopped. The church was just ahead, a lone one-room wooden house set off a short distance from the last building of this town.

“The wedding.” The words sounded forced from his mouth.

“Wedding? What wedding?” Laney’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

“Congratulations, Tyler. Is that your lovely bride? I heard the stage came in a few minutes ago.” Someone riding up the street on a gray horse called out to him, waving his hand. Tyler nodded in greeting and touched the brim of his hat.

“Whoa. Hang on. Back up just one second.” Laney held her hand out in front of her and took a couple of steps back, nearly stumbling when the heel of her shoe caught on one of the uneven boards.

Bride!
Wedding?
What the hell was going on here?

“I think there’s been a mistake. I haven’t got a clue what—”

“Miss Goodman! You’ve arrived safely.” A familiar voice exclaimed from the direction of the church. The old man from the limo hurried down the four or five wooden steps, and rushed toward them, his stride belying his age. Gone was his steel gray suit. In its place, he wore a black waistcoat with a white collar.

“Finally, I’ll get some answers,” Laney grumbled, and turned away from Tyler.

The old man beamed at her, and reached for her hand, clasping it between both of his. “You look absolutely stunning, my dear. Mr. Monroe must be very pleased.”

“You didn’t tell me you were a preacher.” Laney shot an accusing stare at him. “I want some answers. How did I get here? What sort of place is this?” She hissed.

Reverend Johnson glanced up and looked past her. Laney turned her head. Tyler stood where she’d left him, his intense stare scorching her backside. Was he angry, or simply checking her out? Whatever it was, her powerful awareness of him was downright unsettling.

“I think we need to have this conversation in private, Miss Goodman,” the old man said, and motioned toward the church. “Let me just inform Mr. Monroe.” He stepped toward Tyler, and Laney followed.

“Tyler, I need a word with your bride. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be back in a moment.”

Tyler’s eyes darted from the reverend to her. His gaze lingered on her, but then he nodded. “Take your time, Reverend.”

Laney opened her mouth to protest the old man calling her a bride, but the stern look in the preacher’s eyes gave her pause. She sighed, and followed him to the one-room structure. Her long skirt caught on the toe of her shoe, and she stumbled up the steps.

“Dammit,” she grumbled, and caught herself from falling fully up the stairs by grabbing the wooden handrail at the last second.  She snatched a handful of material of her dress, and hiked it up past her ankles.

“Where are my normal clothes? What did you do to me?” she demanded before the reverend ushered her into the building. He closed the door behind her.

“Have a seat, Miss Goodman.” He motioned to one of the benches that stood in two rows leading to the front of the church.

“I’d like some answers, Reverend. I can’t remember a thing after you dropped me off at the motel last night.” Laney’s heart rate accelerated. Something in his eyes told her she wasn’t going to like his answer.

The old man reached for her hand again, and led her to one of the wooden benches. He sat, and tugged gently on her arm. Reluctantly, she lowered herself onto the hard seat. For a second, she was glad for all that padding at the back of the dress.

“What did you think of Tyler?” the Reverend’s blue eyes sought hers. “I would like to think I made the correct pairing. It’s my first attempt with this sort of thing.”

Laney scrunched her forehead. This entire situation was getting stranger by the moment.

“I don’t know what to think of him. I barely know him.”
Other than he’s gorgeous.
“What do you mean, pairing? First attempt? He’s under the impression that I’m here to marry him.”

The reverend nodded. “You have been summoned here as his mail order bride.”

Laney jumped from her seat. “What kind of sick joke are you people playing?” Her voice rose, echoing through the empty room. “I am not getting married. You said he needed someone to rehab his horse, and that I was going to be his hooker.” She swallowed, and emphasized the harsh word, because that’s exactly what she was. Her vision blurred with tears.

The reverend stood, and placed his hand on her shoulder. He offered her a white cotton handkerchief, and she dabbed at her eyes.

“Miss Goodman. I wish you would stop referring to yourself as such. You are a young woman with a lot of potential. You have been chosen for a second chance at a better life.”

“Yes, you said that already.” Laney waved him off impatiently. “But I can’t marry someone I don’t even know. This is crazy. And you still haven’t answered my question. How did I get here? And what’s up with this town and the people? Everyone’s dressed and acts like they’re straight out of some wild west movie.”

The reverend smiled, a slow indulgent smile. He faced her squarely. “You are in the nineteenth century, my dear. The year 1872, to be exact.”

Laney stared at him in silence. Her mind went completely blank for a moment. Then she laughed.

“Miss Goodman,” the reverend said loudly over her laugher. “You can believe me or not, but the truth is, I have brought you here because you deserve a chance at happiness.”

“Prostituting myself in the dark ages rather than in the twenty-first century will make me happy?” Laney spat sarcastically. “You know what?” She turned on her heels, and headed for the door, waving her hand in the air. “I want to go home. Where’s the nearest bus station? Forget you and your crazy story. I should have known last night not to fall for your empty promises.” She reached for the handle on the door.

Tears rolled freely down her face. She’d been taken for a ride but good this time.
You knew it was too good to be true, Laney.
A shot to work with horses.
She scoffed
.
Best to get back home and try and explain to Jason why she didn’t have any money for him. She’d make it up to him somehow. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too angry.

“The nearest bus station is a hundred years in the future, Miss Goodman. I can’t send you home until you’ve fulfilled your end of our agreement.” The reverend came up beside her and placed his hand over hers, stopping her from pulling the door open. “Unless you want to go back to the same existence you’ve led up until now.” He gently lifted her fingers from the handle. She should fight him, run from this place as fast as she could, but something stopped her, and she slowly turned to look at him. His haunting eyes were filled with sincerity and concern.

“Even if you don’t believe me now, in a few days you won’t be able to deny the truth. You are in the year 1872. I have asked you here to help a horse that can benefit from your skills, and I believe, so can his owner.”

Laney shook her head from side to side. How could any of this be real? Why did she even entertain the crazy idea that the old man was telling her the truth?

“And if I do this, will you send me back home?
If I rehab his horse, you can guarantee me a job in the future? That’s what you said.”

“I said all your dreams would be realized.” He paused, and inhaled a deep breath.  “Yes, you will be offered a lucrative position with an affluent horse operation if you succeed here.”

 She sniffled, and wiped her nose with the handkerchief.

“What’s wrong with the horse?” The question was out before she could stop herself.

“I can’t answer that. You will have to figure that out.”

Laney laughed again. “You’re telling me I’m in the nineteenth century, and I’m supposed to treat a horse without knowing what’s wrong with him? As far as I know, they didn’t have x-rays or ultrasound for horses in those days.”

“I have the utmost confidence in you that you will be able to help the animal.”

Laney moved away from him, and plopped onto the bench. She leaned forward and cradled her head between her hands.

“But I’m not marrying Tyler.” Her head popped up to glare at the reverend.

“I’m afraid you have no choice, Miss Goodman,” the reverend said from behind her.

“Of course I have a choice,” she snapped. “I’ll be his live-in . . . escort, but you can’t force me to marry him.”

The reverend moved to kneel in front of her, his expression more serious than she’d seen before.

“You are in the year 1872, Miss Goodman. A proper young lady doesn’t simply live with a man, unless she wants to completely tarnish her reputation.”

Laney sniggered. “In case you haven’t noticed, Reverend, I’m a bit beyond a tarnished reputation.”

The reverend continued, apparently ignoring her comment. “Montana Territory has very few unmarried women. If you refuse to marry Mr. Monroe, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Laney weighed his words for a few silent moments. “This marriage will be null and void when I get back to the twenty-first century, right?”

He nodded silently. What was it about this man that made her want to do what he asked, even as unbelievable and downright ridiculous it all seemed? Any moment now she’d wake up in her motel room, and forget all about this crazy dream.

“Fine. I’ll do it. How long am I going to be stuck here in this time?”

“As long as it takes to get the horse well.” The reverend stood. He looked down at her, a pleased expression on his face. “Miss Goodman. I hope it goes without saying that you cannot mention to anyone that you’re from another time.”

Laney laughed. “No, I’ll blend right in,” she retorted sarcastically. “I don’t even believe it. Everyone’s going to think I’m a nut job and send me to a padded cell.”

Reverend Johnson appraised her in silence. He looked to be deep in thought, and suddenly unsure about something.

“Well,” he finally said, and his smile returned.  He clasped his hands together. “Shall we tell the lucky groom that we are ready for a wedding?”

Chapter 4

Tyler yanked his hat off his head and raked his fingers through his hair. He paced along the storefront of Old Henry’s Mercantile, the soles of his boots scraping the wooden planks of the creaky sidewalk. His eyes darted to the church every few minutes. Miss Laney Goodman was the most perplexing woman he had ever met, and he’d known her all of a few minutes. Even her name was unusual.

He’d come to town today, fully intent on meeting the stage and offer an apology. Miss Goodman had traveled all the way to Montana Territory, thinking she was here to marry him, and he needed to let her know right away that there had been a mistake. He ground his teeth. He felt obligated to apologize for something that wasn’t his fault. He’d planned to put Miss Goodman on the next stage in a few days, and send her back to where she came from. He would have even asked Ian Frazier if she could stay with him and his wife for the duration.

Tyler cursed his foreman for the thousandth time. If Gabe wasn’t his friend and one of the best horsemen he’d ever worked with, he would have fired him on the spot after he found out what he and a few of his wranglers and neighbors had done behind his back. The black eye and bloody nose Tyler had given him had only been a small measure of satisfaction to let Gabe know in no uncertain terms that he didn’t appreciate him meddling in his personal affairs.

Apparently Gabe and Tyler’s wranglers had decided that he needed a woman in his life. Little had he known until just a few days ago that they had made a bet amongst themselves on the day of the horserace without his knowledge. Gabe had simply ordered him a bride, because he had lost a bet that Rap would win the race that day. Gabe had conveniently waited to tell him about what he’d done until it was too late to undo it.

“Me and the boys made that bet while we was drunk, Ty.” Gabe had backed away from him, holding his bloody nose between his hands. His foreman had known he deserved it. He hadn’t even fought back, or else Tyler might have done more damage.

“You weren’t drunk when you wrote that letter to the agency advertising brides,” Tyler roared.

“Some of the boys remembered the bet, even though I was hoping they’d forget. I couldn’t lose face in front of them, Ty. They told me I’d be a coward if I didn’t go through with it and get you a wife.”

“That’s my life, and that woman’s life you’re meddling with, Gabe.” Tyler’s fists clenched tightly at his sides. If Gabe made just one small move toward him, Tyler wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

“I know, Ty, and I’m really sorry,” Gabe pleaded. “Understand that the boys and me, we just want what’s best for you. We’re good friends, ain’t we? Your wranglers, they all respect you and look up to you. This wasn’t done to be spiteful.”

Tyler pulled his hat from his head and slapped it against his thigh in order to keep from hitting Gabe again. He’d never lost his temper with anyone the way he lost it with his foreman after receiving the news. He raked his fingers through his hair, and turned on his heels.

“Well, thank them, and thank you, for your thoughtfulness, but I’d appreciate you staying out of my personal business. Whether I want a wife someday or not will be between me and the lady, not decided by some harebrained bet.”

Gabe ran up beside him. “So what are you going to do, Ty? She’s already on her way. She’ll be here on the Tuesday stage.”

Tyler glared at his friend. “I’ll fix your mistake, that’s what I’m gonna do. But I ain’t getting married.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck. His muscles tensed while the scene with Gabe from nearly a week ago played over in his mind. He inhaled deeply to calm his agitation. Several of Landry’s citizens stopped what they were doing, and watched him. Some had already congratulated him on his upcoming wedding. News that his bride had arrived traveled fast. The entire town had been abuzz for days, probably even longer. 

Dammit!. Of all the days for Rap to have an off day, why on race day? If his horse had been true to form that day, he wouldn’t be in this mess now.

“How about a friendly bet between neighbors, Monroe?” Ian Frazier, his biggest competitor, had asked.

 Tyler had wanted to wipe the smirk off the man’s face at the time.

“If your horse wins, I’ll give you ten of my top broodmares. You choose.”

Tyler’s brows had shot up. “And what if he loses?” Why was Ian so keen to enter such a risky wager?

“I win your horse.”

Tyler had laughed. “Not a chance, Ian. I know you’ve had your eye on Rap for years, but he’s the best horse my daddy ever bred, and I’ll never give him up.”

“I thought you said that horse couldn’t lose, Tyler. If you’re so sure of that, why not prove it?”

“He won’t lose, Ian,” Tyler said, a confident smile on his face.  He leaned toward the shorter man, and added in a hushed tone, “But unlike you, I’m not out to ruin you or your breeding operation. If I take your ten best broodmares, you’re out of business. When are you going to let go of that grudge you have against my father for outbidding you on that deal with the cavalry?”

Ian Frazier’s face had turned red, and Tyler knew he had struck a nerve. The profitable contract with the United States cavalry had made the Double M a very rich ranch, a contract that Ian had wanted for himself. The problem was, his horses weren’t of the same quality as those bred by Tyler’s father, and Ian’s foreman and head wrangler didn’t use the best training methods on their stock. The cavalry needed well-trained, dependable animals, and Tyler’s father had built his reputation on providing that.

“How about a different bet,” Gabe had chimed in, a wide grin on his face. He swayed slightly on his feet, the stench of whiskey on his breath.

Tyler glared at his foreman. Gabe had been in his employ not quite a year, but the two of them had gotten along right from the start, and their views on horse breeding and training were the same. Gabe had quickly become his right hand man, and a good friend and confidant.

Ian Frazier stared from Tyler to Gabe. “What sort of bet are you talking about, McFarlain?”

Gabe rubbed his chin dramatically. He leaned toward Ian, and whispered so no one else around them could hear, “It’s a well-known fact that Tyler here is gun shy when it comes to women and the whole notion of marriage. How about if Tyler’s horse loses, he has to get hitched?”

Ian scoffed. “That’s not hardly a bet that’ll benefit me.”

“You’re drunk.” Tyler grabbed a fistful of Gabe’s shirt, pushing him out of the circle of men with eager looks on their faces. No doubt they all wished they had heard Gabe’s idea for a bet.

“Maybe you should go sleep it off,” Tyler added between clenched teeth. He shoved his foremen away from the crowd. Just the mention of the word
marriage
had sent an icy chill down his back, and he wanted to get Gabe as far away from any betting schemes as possible.

No one else but Gabe knew of his father’s pain and struggles after his mother left them. It hadn’t taken him long after he entered Tyler’s employ to ask for a reason why he never went into town on Saturday nights with the rest of the crew to visit the ladies at the saloon. Tyler had confided in Gabe months ago, how his mother up and left one day, and how his father never recovered from the loss. He didn’t owe his friends and neighbors an explanation why he chose to remain a single man. His focus was his ranch, and he’d be damned before he’d let a woman ruin his life the way his mother had ruined his father.

“Being with a whore ain’t the same as getting wed,” Gabe had suggested at the time.

“I have no use for either,” Tyler replied dryly. “Leave it be, Gabe.”

Gabe stumbled along next to Tyler, out of earshot from the rest of the men placing wagers on the race. “You’re just gonna be miserable for the rest of your life for what your mother did to your daddy?” On swaying legs, he’d studied Tyler as if he were appraising a prized horse. Then his face had lit up as if he’d come to a realization. “You’re afraid you’ll get your heart broke, just like your daddy did, ain’t ya, Ty?” He laughed, and slapped him on the back.

Tyler ignored the comment. He led his foreman behind some wagons, and shoved him to the ground. Without a backwards glance, he’d gone to get his horse ready for the race.

****

Tyler continued to pace the boardwalk. Gabe and several of his wranglers approached, no doubt eager to find out what was going on with Miss Goodman.

“Where’s that beautiful bride of yours, Ty? Don’t tell me you run her off already, or did she have a change of heart?” Gabe’s laughter behind him mixed with that of the other men. Tyler turned and narrowed his eyes. Eddie, Sammy, and Beau stopped in their tracks, the smiles frozen on their faces. Eddie wiped at his jaw, and Sammy coughed. Beau seemed to have found a sudden interest in the dirt on his boots.

Neither Tyler nor Gabe had told the rest of the Double M crew about their fight. For all they knew, Tyler had agreed to the wedding. No doubt Gabe had informed them that their boss hadn’t been happy about their little surprise, but had come around to their way of thinking. For the last several days, he’d endured their good-natured banter and helpful advice about being a married man soon without setting anyone straight. Let them believe what they wanted and have their fun. They’d probably placed bets all week to see if their boss would actually make it to the altar.

A woman’s angry voice drifted from inside the church. Gabe’s head shot in the direction of the building, then darted to Tyler. “What did you say to her? You ain’t even wed yet, and you got her spittin’ mad already?” He slapped Tyler’s back as if he approved.

Tyler stopped to listen. What had made Miss Goodman so angry that she would raise her voice in such a manner to a man of God, inside a church, no less? The corners of his mouth twitched. She certainly was a feisty one, something he’d already sensed from their very brief encounter.

“Appears that bet we made wasn’t such a loss after all, huh, Ty?” Gabe leaned forward and glanced up at him, his brows raised. “My eyes nearly popped from their sockets when I saw her get off that stage. You’ll be the envy of every man in the territory.” He grinned from ear to ear, and the three wranglers sniggered.

“Of course, with a temper like that, you might need to use a stronger bit.” Gabe never missed an opportunity to compare his women to horses, and Tyler bristled at his inference now. The comparisons reminded him too much of the ones his father used to make. He shrugged it off. All the men enjoyed making comparisons between their love of women and passion for the horses.

Tyler eyed the church door. It sounded like it was time to find out what the commotion was about, but he hesitated. Reverend Johnson had asked him to wait, that he needed to speak to Miss Goodman alone. How did the two of them know each other? Something seemed odd to him, out of place, and his stomach churned.

He shrugged the feeling off. It was simply the idea of getting hitched that was making him sick. He stepped toward the church. He was tired of standing around out here on the street like some lost dog.

“What’s going on, Ty?” Gabe echoed his thoughts.

“Hell if I know,” Tyler answered. He shot his foreman an annoyed look.

 “It ain’t gonna be so bad, Ty. She’s a real pretty woman,” Eddie chimed in from behind them. More shouting came from inside the church. Eddie grinned. “Even if she is a bit feisty. Just think of her as a young, unruly little filly. You can break her and train her up to suit you. A woman ain’t much different from a horse. You just gotta know how to stroke ‘em right.” His hand motion mimicked how he would stroke a horse.

Tyler scoffed. “What the hell do you know about women, Eddie?”

Sammy and Beau chuckled, and elbowed Eddie in the side. The beefy man’s face turned a shade of crimson, and Tyler grinned, despite his misgivings.

Eddie and his foreman were right about one thing. Miss Goodman was the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. The moment she stepped foot off that stage, he’d known that he was in trouble. He had expected some homely female, not the delicate beauty who stood in the middle of the street, looking thoroughly lost. Something he couldn’t even begin to explain had ignited in him, some need to keep her safe and away from other men who had no right to her. Instantly, his plan to send her back to where she came from dissolved into the afternoon breeze.