Redeeming Love (14 page)

Could you stop long enough for a talk?”

“Not this time.”

“You planning to spend everything I give you at the Palace again? It’s one of man’s afflictions, isn’t it? Need of woman.”

Michael’s jaw stiffened. “How do you come to know so much about my personal business?”

“It wasn’t hard when you were still in town after four days last time.”

Hochschild took one look at Michael, made a silent whistle, and changed the subject. “There was a strike about three miles up river.” He gave details.

“With all that gold dust coming in I can raise my prices.”

Michael slammed the last crate on the counter. Angel’s price had probably gone up, too.

Hochschild paid up. He scratched his grizzled cheek. Usually Michael was sociable, but today he looked downright grim. “Got your herd yet?”

“Not yet.” He had invested all his hard-earned gold dust in courting Angel last trip. He poured his payment into his belt.

“Rumor has it that Angel’s not doing business for a while,” Joseph said.

Her name was all it took. Michael felt as though he had been struck in the chest. “Did she earn herself a rest?”

Joseph’s eyebrows rose. The remark wasn’t like Michael at all. He must have fallen hard and been hurt bad. Shaking his head, he grimaced. “Forget I mentioned her.”

He followed Michael outside and watched him jump up onto his wagon.

“Town got a pastor just last Wednesday. If you’ve a mind to hear him, he’s preaching at the Gold Nugget Saloon.”

Michael was thinking about Angel. He took up the reins. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

“You had better rest those horses awhile. Looks like you pushed them pretty hard getting up here.”

“I’m heading for the livery stable right now.” He tipped his hat and drove down Main Street. It was going to take bribery and fast talking to see Angel tonight. He left the two draft horses and wagon with McPherson and went down into the center of town to rent himself a room at the hotel across from 97

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the Palace. For the first time in his life, Michael wanted to get rip-roaring drunk. He went for a long walk instead. He needed time to get his emotions under control and think through what he was going to say to her.

He returned at dusk, no easier in his mind. A crowd was gathered outside the Gold Nugget Saloon listening to the new preacher shouting about these being the end times of Revelation. Michael stood on the outer edge of the crowd, listening. He glanced up once at Angel’s window. Someone moved back into the shadows.

He ought to go over now and make his arrangements with the Duchess.

His heart raced, and he broke out in a sweat just thinking about it. He would wait a little longer.

Someone touched his back, and he turned to see an older woman looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. Her hair was dark and curly, and she wore a low-cut, garish green dress.

“I’m Lucky,” she said. “Angel’s friend.” She was drunk and slurring her words. “Saw you from across the street.” She nodded toward the Palace.

“You are the one, ain’t you? The one who kept askin’ Angel to go ’way with him?”

Anger shot through him like a range fire. “What else did she tell you?”

“Don’t get mad, mister. Just go an’ ask her again.”

“Did she tell you to come down here?” Was she up there laughing at him behind the curtain?

“No.” She shook her head sharply. “Angel, she never asks for nothing.”

Tears filled the woman’s eyes, and she wiped her nose on her shawl. “She don’t even know I’m talking t’ you.”

“Well, thanks, Lucky, but the last time I saw her, she couldn’t wait until I walked out her door, and it was real clear she hoped I’d never come back.”

Lucky looked up at him. “Get her out of there, Mister. Even if you don’t care anymore, even if Angel don’t. Just get her out of there.”

Suddenly alarmed, Michael caught her arm as she turned away. “What’s the matter with her, Lucky? What are you trying to tell me?”

Lucky wiped her nose again. “I can’t talk anymore. I gotta get back before Duchess misses me.” She crossed the street, but instead of going in the front, she sneaked around the back.

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Michael looked up at Angel’s window. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He strode across the street and went in through the swinging doors.

Except for a couple of men playing cards and drinking, the place was almost deserted. The bodyguard wasn’t at the foot of the stairs to stop him from going up. The hall was dark and quiet. Too quiet. A man came out of Angel’s room, and the Duchess was with him. She saw Michael first.

“What are you doing up here? No one’s allowed upstairs until they’ve dealt with me!”

“I want to see Angel.”

“She’s not working today.”

He looked at the black bag in the man’s hand. “What’s the matter with her?”

“Nothing,” the Duchess answered sharply. “Angel’s just taking a few days off to rest. Now get out of here.” She tried to block his way, but Michael set her aside and went into the room.

The Duchess grabbed at his arm. “Stay away from her! Doc, stop him!”

The doctor fixed her with a cold glare. “No, ma’am. I won’t.”

Michael reached the bed and saw her. “Oh, sweet Lord…”

“It was Magowan,” Doc said quietly from behind Michael.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Duchess said, drawing back in fear from the look on Michael’s face. “It wasn’t!”

“She’s right,” Doc said. “If Duchess hadn’t come in when she did, he probably would have killed her.”

“Now
will you get out of here and leave her alone?” Duchess said.

“I’ll leave, all right,” Michael answered. “And I’m taking her with me.”

Angel roused to someone’s touch. The Duchess was ranting again. Angel wanted the darkness. She didn’t want to feel anything, ever again, but someone was there, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m going to take you home with me,” the gentle voice said.

“You want to take her home, fine. I’ll gift wrap her,” the Duchess said.

“But you’re going to pay first.”

“Woman, have you no decency?” Another man’s voice. “The girl will be lucky to live—”

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“Oh, she’ll live. And don’t look down your nose at me! I
know
Angel.

She’ll live. And he can’t have her for nothing. I can tell you something else.

She brought this on herself. The little witch knew exactly what she was doing. She pushed Bret over the edge. She’s been nothing but trouble since the day I picked her up out of the mud in San Francisco.”

“You can have your gold,” came the voice that had pulled her from the darkness. But now it was hard. Angry. Had she done something wrong again? “But get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”

The door slammed. Pain exploded in Angel’s head, and she groaned. She could hear two men talking. One of them spoke to her. “I want to marry you before we leave together.”

Marry her? She gave a whimpering laugh.

Someone took her hand. She thought it was Lucky at first, but Lucky’s hand was soft and small. This one was large and hard, the skin rough with calluses. “Just say yes.”

She would agree to wed Satan himself if it would get her out of the Palace. “Why not?” she managed.

She drifted on a sea of pain and quiet voices. The room was full of them.

Lucky was there, and Doc, and the other man whose voice was so familiar, but she still couldn’t place it. She felt someone slip a ring on her finger. Her head was raised gently, and she was given something bitter to drink.

Lucky took her hand. “They’re rigging his wagon so he can take you home with him. You’ll sleep all the way with the laudanum you drank. You won’t feel nothing.” She felt Lucky touch her hair. “You’re a regular married lady now, Angel. He had a wedding ring on a chain around his neck. He said it belonged to his mother. His
mother,
Angel. He put his mother’s wedding ring on your finger. Can you hear me, honey?”

Angel wanted to ask who she had married, but what did it matter? The pain gradually receded. She was so tired. Maybe she would die after all. It would all be over then.

She heard the clink of a bottle against a glass. Lucky was drinking again.

Angel could hear her crying. She squeezed Lucky’s hand weakly. Lucky squeezed back and sobbed softly. “Angel.” She stroked her hair. “What’d you say to make Bret do this to you? Did you
want
him to kill you? Is life really 100

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that bad?” She kept stroking her hair. “Hang on, Angel. Don’t give up.”

Angel sank back into comfortable darkness while Lucky rambled. “I’m going to miss you, Angel. When you’re living out there in your cabin with the climbing roses all around, think about me once in a while, will you?

Remember your old friend, Lucky.”

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Seven

I am dying of thirst

by the side of the fountain.

C H A R L E S

D ’ O R L É A N S

Angel awakened slowly to the wonderful aroma of good cooking. She tried to sit up, then gasped in pain. “Easy,” a man’s voice said, and a strong arm slid beneath her shoulders, raising her gently. She felt something put behind her to support her back and head. “The dizziness will pass.”

Her eyes were swollen almost shut, and she could barely make out a man dressed in high boots, dungarees, and a red shirt. He was bending over the fire and stirring in a big iron pot.

Morning light was streaming through a window in front of her. The light hurt her eyes. She was in a cabin not much bigger than her room at the Palace. The floor was wood plank; the fireplace, multicolored stone. Besides the bed, she could make out the fuzzy shapes of a table, four laden shelves, a willow chair, a chest of drawers, and a big black trunk with blankets stacked on top of it.

The man came back and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Do you feel up to eating something, Mara?”

Mara.

She froze. Snatches of things came back.… Magowan’s beating, voices all around her, someone asking her—

Her heart thudded in her chest. She felt her fingers—there was a ring on 103

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one. The throbbing in her head worsened. She swore softly. Of all the men in the world, it had to be
him.

“It’s venison stew. You must be hungry.”

She opened her mouth to tell him where to put it when pain shot along her jaw and silenced her. Hosea got up and went back to the fire. When he came to sit down again, he had a bowl and spoon. She saw he meant to feed her. She said something low and foul and tried to turn her head away, but even that simple movement proved too much.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he said dryly. Pressing her lips together, she refused to eat. Her traitorous stomach growled. “Feed the wolf in your belly, Mara. Then you can try fighting the one you think is at your door.”

She gave in. She was starving. The gruel of meat and vegetables he spooned into her mouth was better than anything Henri had ever made. The throbbing in her head lessened. Her jaw ached horribly; her arm was in some kind of sling.

“Your shoulder was dislocated,” Michael said. “You’ve got four broken ribs, a cracked collarbone, and a concussion. Doc didn’t know if you had any internal injuries.”

Perspiration was dripping down the sides of her face from the painful effort of sitting up. She spoke slowly and stiffly. “So you got me after all.

Lucky you. Is this
home?”

“Yes.”

“How did I get here?”

“In my wagon. Joseph helped me rig up a hammock so I could move you out of the Palace.”

She looked down at the simple gold band on her finger. She clenched her hand. “How far am I from Pair-a-Dice?”

“A lifetime.”

“In miles.”

“Thirty. We’re northwest of New Helvetia.” He offered her the spoon again. “Try to eat some more. You need to put on some weight.”

“Not enough meat on my bones to please you?”

Michael made no response.

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occurred to her belatedly that she might anger him and this wasn’t the best time to do so. She swallowed more soup and tried not to show her fear. He went back to the cooking pot and filled the bowl again. He sat at a small table and ate by himself.

“How long have I been here?” she asked.

“Three days.”

“Three
days?”

“You’ve been delirious most of it. Your fever broke yesterday afternoon.

Can you remember anything?”

“No.” She didn’t try. “I suppose I have you to thank for saving my life,” she said bitterly. He went on eating in silence. “So what’s it going to be, mister?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing for a while.”

“Just talk. Right?”

He looked at her then, and she felt uneasy at his calm. When he stood up and came toward her, her heart pounded hard and fast. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mara,” he said gently. “I love you.”