Angel In The Saloon (Brides of Glory Gulch) (30 page)

Upon their arrival in Glenwood Springs, Amelia
insisted on accompanying the men to the telegraph office and composed the
message herself.

“Paul-first message was grave error-stop-am alive and
well and anxious to marry you-stop-will be home when Aunt Corrin well enough to
travel-stop-will see you in a couple days-stop-end-love, Amelia.”

She was then taken to the clinic where Corrin was
receiving the best possible care. The Doctor told her that Corrin had a
concussion and a deep contusion in her forehead that needed watching. Her leg
was broken in two places and badly bruised and gashed, but he was hopeful that
it would heal without complications. Other than a few other assorted bruises
and lesions, that was the extent of her injuries. Amelia breathed a prayer of
thanks and was allowed to see her aunt within an hour after her arrival.

›
›
›

Corrin was awake when Amelia entered the room. She put
her hand to her mouth and choked back her heart in disbelief. When the nurse
lead her niece to her sickbed, she threw her arms around her and held her
tightly, allowing the grief she had been feeling for several hours to wash away
with her sweet niece’s presence. And they both cried.

“I’m all right, Aunt Corrin and I’m so sorry you
thought I was dead. I’m just so angry at them for doing this to you.”

“Dear God, thank you for my daughter’s safety.” Corrin
was finally able to find her voice. Then she began to laugh, mostly in
alleviation of the deep, terrible grief she had suffered.

“Look at us, Sweetie. I think we’ve gotten all mixed
up. I’m the one praying to God and you’re the one who’s angry.”

“I suppose we have more of an influence on each other
than we thought.” Amelia smiled and stroked her aunt’s hair.

But Corrin meant it. She knew she had to be grateful
to someone for saving Amelia today. Maybe it really was God.

Jeremiah Cowan was deep in the woods, supervising the
carefully planned strategy of his logging operation when Mr. Conner came riding
frantically up the mountain on horseback.

“John, what brings you up here today?”

Without speaking, the man dismounted and handed a
small envelope to Jeremiah. He didn’t like the disquieted expression on the
merchant’s face and reluctantly took the paper from him and read the terrible
words. His breathing became difficult and heavy, his mouth began to quiver and
his whole body was trembling. He looked up at a tall, nearby tree, closed his
eyes and allowed tears to silently trail down his cheeks for a moment. Regaining
his composure, wiping his eyes with the back of his glove, he thanked the
merchant and sought out his brother to tell him why he was leaving.

Jeremiah saddled his horse through blurred eyes and
headed for the Glory Gulch Sawmill, but changed his mind and went to the stable
first to saddle up Colorado and rent himself a fresh horse. Then he headed for
the mill.

A half hour later, he took a deep breath and walked
into Paul’s office.

Paul glanced up at him, and then went back to the
paperwork he was furiously attempting to complete.

“Make it quick, Cowan. I have a stage to meet.” Paul focused
on his work and still didn’t look at him.

When Jeremiah remained silent and motionless from his
position just inside the door, Paul finally looked up at him. Jeremiah’s face
was lurid. He was trembling and had definitely been crying.

“What is it?” Paul got up from his desk and went over
to him.

Jeremiah just stood there, staring at him.

“Well, out with it, man! You’re going to make me late
for the stage. It might be pulling up right now and Amelia will be put out with
me for not meeting her.”

“There isn’t going to be a stage today,” Jeremiah said
softly.

“What are you talking about? Have you been drinking? You
don’t look so well. Here, sit down in my chair and when I get back we’ll talk.”
Paul reached for his coat and pulled it over his broad shoulders. Jeremiah
grabbed Paul firmly and held up the telegraph message in front of him.

“Paul. She isn’t coming.”

›
›
›

Paul stared at Jeremiah, not comprehending what he was
saying. He took the message from his hand and read it.
Tell Paul his Angel
got her wings today.
He read it over and over.   He looked up at Jeremiah,
and then walked over to the window to reread the note, as if the words would
say something different from that vantage point.

The impact of the message finally penetrated him, and
the sudden pain he felt in his heart was greater than any gunshot wound. His
whole body shook, his breathing became labored. He turned around with eyes
clouded and sank to the floor, pulling his knees up, resting his elbows on them.
He ran his trembling hands through his hair.

“No! Not my Angel . . . Not her! Oh, God! My sweet
Angel . . . Amelia!”

When Jeremiah sat beside him on the floor and put his
arm around him, Paul fell against his friend’s chest, clutching his buckskin
jacket desperately as if to let go would plummet him into a deep, bottomless
pit. His sobs were loud, mournful and terrible, piercing through the hearts of
those within earshot.

A couple mill workers came through the back door to
see what was wrong and caught the two men on the floor. “Miss Jackson?”

Jeremiah nodded and the workers left them alone.

After a few minutes Jeremiah lifted Paul’s head and
looked him in the eyes. “We have to go. Corrin needs us. I have our horses
ready outside.”

“I have to tell Alister.”

“I’ll come with you.”

They rode to Paul’s house and walked in the front door.
Mr. Jackson had been reading a book in the parlor when he looked up and saw the
grief registering on their faces. They stood there in the thick silence for a
moment, and as Paul groped for the words that his heart wouldn’t allow him to
speak, he began to cry again.

“Has something happened to my daughter?”

Paul turned to leave, his grief too great to bear. Jeremiah
caught him on the shoulder and stopped him in the doorway, his back to the
room.

“There’s been an accident with the stage,” Jeremiah
said as gently as he could. “We don’t have any details. Just that Corrin’s hurt
and Amelia....” he looked into the somber, sickly face of the man who only
weeks ago had reclaimed his daughter after nearly sixteen years of estrangement.
“Amelia’s gone.”

Mr. Jackson went to Paul and the two hugged dearly.

“I have to go to Glenwood Springs for Corrin---and for
me. I have to see her . . .” Paul said.

“I think you should go to a neighbor’s house until we
return, Mr. Jackson. You shouldn’t be alone right now.” Jeremiah offered to
take him somewhere, but he refused and said he’ll be fine where he was.

Paul and Jeremiah then left town.

›
›
›

Mr. Conner searched for either of the two men
immediately upon arrival of the second telegraph message, but not knowing they
had been at Paul’s house, assumed they had already left for Glenwood Springs. He
considered going after them, but he wasn’t the horseman they were and was
positive he could never catch up with them. Finally, he simply reasoned that
they would reach their destination in about four hours anyway and would
discover the truth then, so he went about his business.  

›
›
›

Paul and Jeremiah arrived at the Glenwood Springs Sheriff’s
office around five-thirty that evening. They hitched their horses to the post
and dispiritedly walked inside.

“Sheriff, I’m Jeremiah Cowan and this is Paul Strupel.
We’re from Glory Gulch. We’re here about the stagecoach accident.”

The sheriff looked at the two with interest. “I
suppose you’re pretty mad about the mix-up. I don’t blame you one bit. Just a
case of bad communication is all. I’ve known Benjamin Walters a long time. He
was only acting on the information he had. I really wish you two wouldn’t stir
up any trouble.”

“Sheriff, we don’t know what you’re talking about. I
got a telegram.” Paul produced the terrible piece of paper. “It says my fiancé
was a fatality of that accident. We’d like to know more about how this happened
and we’d like to . . .” He swallowed hard. “View the body.”

“You mean you didn’t get the second telegram?”

“No, sir. Just this one,” Jeremiah said, wondering if
the Sheriff was sober.

“I’m very sorry about all of this. You see, there was
a lot of miscommunication at the site of the wreckage and a misinformed news
reporter---the fellow I mentioned---sent you that first telegram. When they
discovered the error they sent another one to you as fast as they could,
probably no more than forty-five or fifty minutes apart.”

“Miscommunication? Errors?” Jeremiah shook his head. The
day had been arduous enough without this man adding to it. “Sheriff, I’m not in
any frame of mind to try to figure out what you’re talking about. We just came
in here to find out where we need to go to settle matters with our loved ones.”

“Sir, I’m sorry. I can see you’re grieved over the
news you received. Let me begin again. What I was trying to tell you is that
there was a third young lady on the stagecoach this morning. Somehow things got
mixed up, but she’s actually the one who died.” The Sheriff fumbled around his
desk for something and then located a piece of paper.

Jeremiah glanced at Paul, still not comprehending what
he was talking about.

“Yes, here it is. Miss Melissa Perser is the young
lady who died. Miss Corrin Dannon was pinned under the stage and is now at the
clinic under a Doctor’s care, and Miss Amelia Jackson was thrown before the
stage went over the embankment and only suffers from a bruised hip.”

“You mean, Amelia’s . . . alive?” Paul swallowed hard
and then grabbed Jeremiah’s shoulders and slowly let the words register in his
mind and roll off his tongue like a soothing balm. “Jeremiah, Amelia is alive! Yahoo!”
The big lumber men did a quick dance around a chair. Then Paul grabbed the
Sheriff’s hand and shook it furiously.

“Thank you, Sheriff. Thank you very much. How do we
find that clinic?”

“It’s down the street to your left. Turn right at the
first street, and then go down two blocks and make another right. It’s on the
corner.” He was practically shouting the last sentence for the men were already
out the door and mounting their horses.

›
›
›

“May I help you?” the nurse at the front desk inquired
of the two men who had hurriedly entered and walked up to the wooden desk.

“We’d like to see Miss Corrin Dannon and Miss Amelia
Jackson,” Jeremiah said. “I believe they were brought in this morning after the
stagecoach accident.”

“Oh, yes. The doctor said Miss Dannon may receive
visitors, but don’t stay too long. She’s in room 105. That’s five doors down
the hall on your left.”

“What about Miss Jackson? Where is she?” Paul searched
the nurse’s eyes for the answer.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see a Miss Jackson registered
here.”

“Amelia Jackson. She was in the stagecoach accident
with Miss Dannon.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jeremiah grabbed Paul by the arm and pulled him down
the hall. “Thank you,” he called to the nurse. Then he said to his friend,
“Corrin will know where she is.”

“Thank you!” Paul also called over his shoulder.

They arrived at the room just as a nurse was leaving.

“Please, don’t stay too long. Miss Dannon needs much
rest.”

“How is she?” Jeremiah asked.

“The doctor says she’ll be fine.”

They nodded and entered the room.

Corrin reached her arms out to them. One at a time,
they hugged her and told her they were glad she would be all right. She grabbed
Paul’s hand and cried.

“I’m so sorry about the telegram. They told me she
didn’t make it. I didn’t know what to do. But later when I came to my senses,
there she was right here in this room!”

“Shh. It’s all right.” Paul leaned over and stroked
her hair. “We saw the sheriff and he told us about the mix-up. Where is she?”

“I’m right here, Sweetheart,” Amelia said as she
entered the room behind them.

Paul rushed to her and embraced her, first kissing her
hair, then her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. He let her presence fill his
soul in a loving embrace as he stroked her hair.

“Oh, Angel. I thought I had lost you today.”

“I know,” she whispered to him.

He cupped his hands around her face and looked
tenderly into her pretty eyes, knowing she couldn’t see him, but coming to know
that she saw into his very soul.

“I’m never going to let you out of my sight again.” They
kissed each other passionately as Corrin grinned happily and Jeremiah fidgeted
with some odds and ends that were on the table beside the bed.