Independence: #2 Angel (27 page)

“Let’s go meet your fans.” Colin snapped his briefcase closed and put his free hand against her hip, holding her close.

Angel couldn’t stop the grin or the tears. She watched Bailey and Patsy bounce on their toes, waiting anxiously off to the side. She slipped out and over to them, the momentary hesitation in her eyes being ignored as the two women crushed her close.

“How was it? Are you okay?” Bailey looked from her to Colin, who was keeping his gaze on the location of all the members of the opposition.

“I’m okay,” Angel let out the breath she’d been holding as she was surrounded and hugged. Repeatedly until she had a choice to breathe or faint. She finally lifted her arms and hugged them each in turn. “Thank you for being here. This is a surprise.”

“I bugged Colin until he confessed,” Bailey said with a chuckle. “And threatened to turn me in to Gabriel. But I knew he needed us here.”

“And they needed to see us here,” Patsy said with her shoulders back and chin up, returning the glare from Earl Leonard. “I seriously do not like that man.”

Angel shivered but never looked toward him. She could feel all their anger. She wished she was imagining it, but she knew too intimately how it felt to be a target for them.

“I need to get to the shop,” she said, a little breathless and shaky.

“Wait a minute and I’ll…” Colin began, stopping when her head shook.

“You’ve used a lot of your morning for this,” she turned and kissed him, one hand up and stroking over his cheek. “Thank you. For doing this and for being here with me…for me.”

“We can drop her at the shop,” Bailey declared with a grin. “Always an excuse for a cookie.”

“Pack some clothes and bring them to the house after work today,” Colin told her, his hands running up and down her arms slowly. “Especially the things I bought you. It’s Friday and I’d like to take you to the club.”

“I’d like that,” she admitted with a nod, offering one more kiss before backing away, carefully keeping her gaze on anything but the reporter and the people giving her more information than she probably expected.

“Be careful,” Colin called softly, watching the three women head toward the elevators. A sense of relief went through him, the laughing voices reaching him as her friends worked to distract her from the past two hours.

He made a sharp turn, watching Vianne for a couple minutes as she maneuvered and manipulated the reverend and his entourage with her questions. He knew by the slight wink she offered that she was having a damn fine time so he offered a thumbs-up and went to the door a little ways down the hall. He knocked lightly, entering when she called out to him.

Colin had his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, his jacket pushed back as he kicked the door lightly closed behind him.

“Now that’s the sullen, angry young man I met a long time ago,” Andrea teased with a chuckle, the pen in her hand moving over one of the notepads before her. “I’m sending my recommendations to the Lieutenant.”

“You don’t believe this will stop them.”

“I just finished reading a small file on Earl Leonard,” she said thoughtfully. “He’s under investigation for a lot of things, but is evidently very slippery.” She set the pen down and leaned back in her chair, watching him pace before the window. “Do you believe this will stop them?”

Andrea exhaled slowly, his head shaking when she met the stoic gaze.

“I shouldn’t have asked that. I know you well enough to realize all the things I can see in your eyes, Colin. There’s hope…but there’s also anger and fear that you won’t be there to save her if she needs it,” Andrea sighed when he turned away to stare into the light rain falling outside.

“I’m not eight years old now. I couldn’t help my mother when…but this is different. I’ve interacted with abuse victims since I started practicing and especially when I interned.” Colin felt the lump in his throat at voicing the memories aloud.

“You aren’t attracted to her because she’s a victim, Colin. And she’s not looking for a hero,” Andrea spoke quietly, the hint of a smile in her words. “I watched you with her. I watched her. This isn’t a passing thing that will fade.”

“Checked your crystal ball, did you?” He snorted, his head shaking and that annoying shank of dark blonde hair falling over one brow.

“No. I don’t need one when it comes to you. I never did.”

“You should have had half a dozen kids,” he finally said after dragging in a long breath.

“I think Barbara and I had our hands full with one,” she said with a laugh. “Your girl doesn’t know about your family, does she?”

“Things are complicated,” he growled low in his throat. “Christ, I hate that word.”

“Most of life comes with complications. I can see where the issues with her father would tend to sour things quickly.”

“The bastard beat it into her head that touch was bad,” Colin said after a few minutes. “She was date raped when she was barely sixteen, forced into a marriage and then lost the baby. And when she stands up tall and proud in her shop, laughing and playing with kids…”

“It just all feels very wrong to have been,” she supplied the words softly.

“I think she’s like…”

“Like you. All you ever wanted, but would never admit to, was to be a kid and have a mom tuck you in, bake cookies for you and cheer at basketball,” Andrea met the embarrassed blush with a laugh. “And you’re still just as inhibited at some things. I noticed Bailey’s name and Gabe’s. You met her at the club?”

“Yes. Bailey invited her,” he strode to one of the empty chairs and tossed himself into it with all the aplomb of his twelve year old self. “She’s…”

“She fits you,” Andrea guessed with a knowing nod. “So we’d better make sure we keep her safe.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Angel liked being busy. She enjoyed seeing delight and pleasure on the faces of her customers when they tasted one of her creations. She liked knowing the people she’d chosen to work for her and with her, truly enjoyed their jobs.

She sat perched on a backless barstool, her hands expertly wielding the icing funnel over the cookies. Snowmen, Christmas trees, stockings and ornaments were all being decorated for the holiday crowds. Even with all the hustle, her mind drifted to Colin and then to her grandparents.

She’d left a message and checked her phone. Repeatedly. And she had it in the front pocket of her jeans, just in case. She hadn’t been to see them in several months. She blamed being busy, but now she wasn’t so sure. Her father had never turned his attention on them. That, she was grateful for. Maybe it would have been the final straw.

Her mind was on too many topics while her hands moved with practiced ease in an almost automatic way over the tray of thick sugar cookies. So when her phone sounded, she jumped slightly and her ornament received a nice blob of icing right at the bottom of the point.

After settling the tube of butter cream frosting, she stood and fished her phone from the pocket, expecting to see Colin’s name and number. She should assign special ringtones…she’d need to look up some, she thought with a smile.

Her fingers tightened and she almost dropped the phone when she saw her grandmother’s name in the readout. She fumbled it again and slid it open, quickly raising it to her ear.

“Gran! I was going to call and leave another message,” Angel walked away from the kitchen counter and into her office. She listened to the familiar, light laughter and felt a warmth inside her that seemed to untie the final knot that had been in her stomach.

“Breathe, my child,” Nora Greyeagle ordered. “I knew you would be hard at work and I don’t like bothering you. Will you come for dinner tonight? Your grandfather was hoping for Christmas cookies. We have missed you.”

“I…tonight…alright…yes,” she went through her choices quickly, nodding to herself and wincing at the same time. “I’m sorry. I have…so much on my mind right now. But I want to see you, I…I have things to tell you. I’ll leave here at four.”

“I’ve seen the news, Angel.”

“Oh,” Angel supped in a sharp breath. “Oh…I haven’t…but I’m thinking it can’t be good.”

“Not good for them. For you…” She chuckled richly. “I love watching that reporter work. She’s sharp and funny, but you can see in her eyes that she is very, very serious. Very well. I will inform your grandfather and we’ll have the table set for you. Be careful, Angel.”

“I will. I promise,” she answered, closing the phone and about to stick it into her pocket when she remembered the evening she’d be missing. And the man who would be upset…or understand. She opened it again and composed her email, giving him her grandmother’s phone number and the location where she would be, so he wouldn’t worry. She apologized and promised him tomorrow night.

By the time she had the staff informed and things all ready for Saturday morning’s opening, she went out the back door and straight to her wagon. The old habit of watching everything around her probably would never go away, she thought, her gaze shifting around the narrow alley behind her shop as she backed out and began the journey to the highway headed south.

Her stomach didn’t start to churn until she turned on the long gravel road leading to the rustic farm house made out of stripped logs and large rocks. Smoke exited the tall, stone chimney, blowing lightly to the north along with the rain spitting now and then.

Huge stands of pine, birch and oak spread behind the house. It was almost dark so she didn’t get to hear the chickens she used to chase as a child, and even as a teenager. The fenced area off to the left surrounded several horses, cattle and a couple buffalo that roamed the whole of the property’s ten acres.

Angel wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans. She was sweating and knew the feeling of a panic attack haunting her. She ignored her jacket as she climbed from the wagon, the light breeze grabbing her hair and fluffing it out. With a small purse and keys in one hand, she held the shopping bag filled with treats for her grandfather’s sweet tooth. She jogged to the wide, planked porch and used the large, iron knocker.

Her fingers had no sooner dropped it, then the door opened. Scents of all types of food met her and flowed from the warmth of the house the instant the door was pulled wide. Angel smiled at the woman waiting patiently for her to come inside. Her grandmother had made a lot of her favorites for her. She could smell each and every one of them with child-like delight at the memories.

“There’s my grand-daughter,” Nora announced proudly, her dark eyes beaming from the naturally dark skin.

Before the panic attack completely took control of her again, she stepped forward and brought her arms up. She and her grandmother were the same height. She closed her eyes to avoid seeing the surprise she knew was there as she wrapped her arms around her grandmother’s waist and just held her.

She’d done it.

She’d initiated it and that was all it took. Hands wrinkled, but strong were up to immediately circle her shoulders and refused to release her.

The damn broke. The tears fell and her hands tightened a little more, afraid to let go of the one thing that had been good in her life.

She wasn’t sure how, but she ended up on the sofa, her grandmother transferring her to another set of strong arms. She sobbed and accepted the towel pushed into her hands. A palm stroked softly over her head, onto her neck. A pair of familiar lips brushed her forehead and if she could breathe, she would have realized who it was holding her like the most precious gift.

“I’ll get her some herbal tea with honey. It’s one of her favorites,” Nora confided.

“I’m sorry,” Angel used the small towel and blew her nose before pressing it against eyes swollen. “I thought…I thought I could be…I didn’t want to…I needed to…”

She didn’t open her eyes until she heard the low, familiar chuckle. She thought she’d been handed off to her grandfather. But when she lifted her head and almost struck his strong, squared jaw, her gaze landed on the older man sitting comfortably across from her. So if he was there…and she wasn’t dreaming… She inhaled and the scent registered with a jolt of shock.

“How did you get here? What are you doing here!?” She demanded, trying to jump back. She was practically laying over him, wrapped in his arms and sniffling like a little girl. “Let go of me!”

“Not until you calm down.”

And he was laughing. Maybe not loud and not long, but it was in his eyes. As blurry as hers were, she could still see the crinkles at the corners of them.

“She still fights you, I see,” her grandfather said, chuckling and winking at his granddaughter. “I’d ask for one of those hugs, but I’m afraid she’s hugged out already.”

“No…no, I’m not,” Angel announced firmly, her palms flat against the soft shirt Colin wore, his tie gone and the top two buttons open. She met his gaze and felt his arms open for her with an approving nod. “Thank you,” she leaned in and kissed him before turning and stumbling into the older man’s arms.

How had she been so stupid to deny herself this her whole life?

The tears she’d had very briefly under control returned, her hands crushed against his chest and head on the softest flannel shirt. She inhaled as best she could, the smell of pine and fireplace and sage sent the flood of memories roaring through her.

It was coming home. It was good and long overdue.

“I worried when everything finally caught up with her,” Colin said softly, perched on the edge of the large cushioned sofa in patterns like a Navaho rug. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasp between them.

Nora came in with a large tray and he was up, taking it and placing it on the heavy, sheer glazed coffee table. It had been made from a tree stump and must have been a very old tree because it was big. He settled the tray and stood nervously watching Angel in the arms of her grandfather. Long overdue, he thought again to himself.

“I…I didn’t know I’d be such a mess,” Angel sniffled, kneeling between her grandfather’s knees with her head pressed against his chest. “I’m sorry. I thought I could be…could be…better…”

“Oh, Little Wing…” George Greyeagle kissed her forehead. His hands moved from her back to grip her shoulders and lean her away from him. “You are better. And I’ve never been more proud of you.”