Tom's Angel (10 page)

Tom seethed with hatred for this pile of horse manure, but held his ground, not wanting to be the one to initiate the fight.
“If you don't want your nose broken, you'd better leave my father out of this. I intend to see you back in jail before the sun sets.”

“
Is that right? Who's gonna put me there? You? All by yourself? Forget it, McCabe. There's not a damn thing you can do to get me back in that slimy hole.”

“
To tell you the truth, I don't care where you go. Just so you don't come back here.” He decided to try a different approach. “What are you doing in Fort Worth to begin with? Isn't it time you were getting back to Denver?”

“
Not that it's any of your damn business, I came to escort my bride to Denver.”

“
Your bride? Here?”

“
Dallas. Paw arranged everything. Wanted to get two bankers connected through marriage to get their banks connected, too.”

Sounded like something Richard Strickland would do.
“So, where is she?”

Zane turned back to the bar.
“Changed her mind after we met. We were just getting to know each other better when she went running to her daddy and told him she wouldn't marry me.”

Tom laughed.
Being rejected probably enraged Zane to the point of murder, but it had to be the sweetest news Tom had heard since he'd gotten to this grubby little slice of hell.

“
Go ahead and laugh.” Zane's words slurred as he consumed another glass of rot gut. “You won't laugh when you've heard the rest.”

Tom sobered.
“The rest of what?”

“
Paw says I have to be married to take over the bank next month.”

So
, the decision had already been made. Richard Strickland just hadn't told his depositors. The last thing Tom wanted was more “polite” conversation with this weasel, but Zane seemed to be in a talkative mood. It might be possible to learn something useful. “What happens now?”

“
I have to have a wife. Otherwise, Trey gets the bank, even though Paw knows he doesn't have what it takes.”

“
From what I've heard, he's been doing a good job for a long time.”

“
He's too soft. Loans money to men who'll never pay back. Extends loans when they can't pay. You can't run a bank that way.”

Compassion and understanding
were concepts Richard and Zane Strickland would never embrace. All along, Amos had hoped Trey would be the one to take over when Richard stepped down.

“
So what are you going to do about finding a wife before next month?”

Zane turned around, braced his elbows on the bar, his lips sliding back over his teeth in a thoroughly repulsive gesture.

Seeing that malicious grin, a shiver traveled down Tom's spine.

“
I'm gonna get married right here in Fort Worth and take the little woman home to Paw. In fact, I'm gonna get married right here in this dance hall, since that's where we met.”

“
You're going to marry Lizzy?”

Zane laughed until he almost lost his balance and fell.
“You're as stupid as you are ugly, McCabe. Not that whore. You can throw her sorry carcass to the buzzards for all I care.”

“
Then who? One of the other girls?” Dread ate viciously at him.

“
Yep. The prettiest girl in this dance hall. The one I already own, body and soul.”

              <><><><>

Rosalie crept in the back door of The Rose and down the hall a few minutes after Tom left, to check on Lizzy again, which was an excuse. She had to see what happened between Tom and Zane. When she passed the door to the main room, she saw them standing at the bar, talking, but couldn't make out their words. She went to Lizzy's room, knocked, identified herself, then heard the bar slide back. The door opened. Jocelyn.

“
How is she?” Rosalie whispered.

“
Not good. Her hand is showing all the signs of infection.”

“
Has Doc been by to see her today?”

“
Too busy to come. Poker game. Said he'd come by tomorrow and see all the girls for the month. He'll take a look at Lizzy then.”

Rosalie kept her opinion of Doc Payne to herself.
The City Council paid him out of fines and fees to examine the Acre girls once a month for disease. His so-called “examinations” were grope sessions, with no real doctoring going on. Doc frequented a good many of the Acre establishments, and spent extra time on his examination of new girls. When they really needed him, he was usually “too busy to come.”

Rosalie checked to see that Lizzy was sleeping soundly, then unwound the bandage from her left hand.
Red streaks verified infection spreading up her arm. Rosalie would have to—

“
Rosie, is that you?”

Awake.
With the bandage off.

Before Rosalie could get the hand covered again, Lizzy saw
her damaged hand.

“
My hand! Oh God, Rosie, he broke my hand all to pieces! I can’t move my fingers!”

Rosalie tried to calm her, a useless gesture.
“Lizzy, it isn't as bad as it looks.” Actually, it was worse, but what else could she say?

“
And I can't see out of my left eye. Still!” She groped with her right hand.

Rosalie grabbed her wrist, trying to keep her from learning the truth about that eye, but she was too late.

“My eye! It's gone! Rosie, he cut out my eye!”

“
Your eye is still there. It’s just bruised real bad. Try to settle down. You'll start bleeding again.”

“
My leg. Did he cut off my leg?” She tried to sit up.

“
No! Your legs are both there. You're mending. It's just taking a while. Please, Elizabeth! Stop flailing! If you start bleeding again, I might not be able to get it stopped!”

Suddenly still, Lizzy
stared at Rosalie with her good eye. “Let me bleed, Rosie. I can't live like this. Let me bleed until I die. Please.”

“
That's nonsense and you know it. We're going to Denver. I'm going to take care of you.”

“
But what will I do there? I won't be able to dance. There ain't no use in a dance hall for a half-blind girl who can't dance.” She squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming. “You should've let me die.”

“
Don't say that! Don't ever say that again! You're going to be all right, do you hear me? Lizzy, do you hear me?”

“
Lizzy. That's who I am. I'll never be Elizabeth again. Don't you see, Rosie?” She turned her face into the stained pillow and cried bitterly, her body shaking with sobs.

“
I'll be back later with the doctor. Maybe he can give you something to help you feel better.”

Rosalie went to the door and motioned for Jocelyn to come back, to stay with Lizzy.

“Don't leave her for an instant. Understand? Not an instant!”

“
I won't, Rosie, I promise.” She went into Lizzy's room and closed the door. Rosalie waited until she heard the bar slipping back into place, then headed for the front room.

Zane was leaning back against the bar, propped on his elbows,
a terrible grin on his face. Tom's expression, even from this distance, chilled her.

Rosalie suddenly felt feverish.
Rage for what Zane Strickland had done to Lizzy boiled inside her, threatening to explode if she couldn't let it out. She stormed into the room, not knowing what she'd say or do, knowing something had to be done to make this animal pay.

She stopped when Zane fixed her in his inebriated gaze.
“There’s my bride now.

Tom turned to see who was standing behind him.
Oh, dear God, no.

“
I'm going to marry Rosie Kincannon.”

C
hapter 8

Rosalie fainted. Tom rushed to catch her and eased her to the floor. Cradling her head, he patted her cheeks, urging her to wake up.

“
Come on, Rosalie, it's all right.” He glared at Zane Strickland. “She's hotter than a pistol. It's no wonder she fainted.”

Rosalie moaned, moving her head from side to side.

“That's it. Wake up now.” He cast around for the bartender. “Bring me some brandy.”

The burly man obeyed, concern showing in his rheumy eyes.
He fetched a bottle from under the bar, filled a shot glass, and handed it to Tom.

“
Drink this, Rosalie.” He tipped the glass to her lips, allowing only a few drops to moisten, then trickle between. When the fiery liquor hit her throat, she coughed. Tom raised her to a sitting position, careful to support her back.

Tom glared at Strickland.
“You bastard. Don't you have any sense of decency at all?” Tom knew the answer to that question.

“
She would've known soon enough, wouldn't you sugar? I'll bet she just can't wait to be hitched and respectable. Why, my paw is gonna love it when I bring home a whore as my bride.”

Tom made sure Rosalie wouldn't fall backward before he stood, turned, and connected his fist with Zane's jaw, throwing him backward against the bar.

Unlike William Kincannon, Zane Strickland rebounded and lunged at Tom, eyes blazing, fingers curled into angry talons, tendons on his neck standing out in rage, like the devil himself.

Tom deflected the attack easily.
Zane's aim was off, thanks to the whiskey. He crashed to the floor, hit his head on the edge of a table, and lay there, knocked clean out. With a long sigh, Tom returned to where Rosalie sat on the floor, blinking, taking deep breaths, trying to regain her senses.

“
Tom, what did he say?”

“
Never mind. Let's get out of here before he wakes up.” He glanced at the bartender. “I guess I know better than to suggest calling the marshal.”

“
Wouldn't do no good. Ain't nobody been killed.”

“
Right.” Tom lifted Rosalie from the floor and carried her out of the room, down the back hall and outside. The sun blasted them like a furnace. As hot as it had been inside, it was even hotter outside. No wonder violence was rampant in Fort Worth. Heat like this could drive a man completely crazy, make him do all sorts of things he wouldn't normally do. Like hitting old men and scum like Zane Strickland.

Inside the
Kincannon home, Tom placed Rosalie on the sofa in the front room and went to the kitchen to wet a towel.

“
I fainted, didn't I?”

“
Yep. It's no wonder. That dance hall was hot enough to fry an egg on the bar.”

“
Something he said...then everything went black.” Her eyes widened. “He said he was going to marry me? Did I hear right?”

Tom returned, whirling the wet towel in the air to cool it off, then sat beside her and pressed it against her forehead.
“Hold it there.”

“
Tom, tell me all of it. Start when you found him in the bar.”

Tom recounted Zane's misfortune in fetching his bride-to-be and how Richard Strickland had insisted Zane be married by the time he took over the bank.

Rosalie frowned. “Tell me the rest.”

“
He says he's going to marry you, so his father will be satisfied and he'll take over as President of the bank in Denver next month.”

Tears filled her eyes.
“He can't make me marry him. Can he?”

“
No. But you're still indentured to him. I suspect he can make life pretty miserable if you say no.” An understatement.

Surprisingly, her tears dried.
“What are we going to do?”

Tom shook his head.
“It all happened so fast, I haven't had time to think it out. But I'll find a way to get you free of him.”

Rosalie could see the misery in Tom's eyes and in the way his shoulders slumped.
He had no idea how to secure her release from Zane Strickland. Feeling sorrier for him than for herself, she placed her hands on his shoulders, inviting him into her arms.

Tom stood, pulling her up with him.
He wanted to feel her body pressed against his. There were other things he wanted, too, but didn't dare voice, except to himself. He wanted to have her beside him in a wide bed, cooled by a gentle breeze off snow-capped peaks. To feel her skin warm against his, fragrant with violets, flushed with passion and desire. To hear her whisper his name while he kissed her, caressed her, protected her from all harm, all worry, all burdens.

Tom
pressed his lips to hers. His hands wandered over her back and arms.

Desperate to escape the truth, for only these brief moments, she let her mind run free, savoring what it would be like
to leave this place with him. To be his, and his alone.

“
Tom, we have to stop.”

“
I know.”

He kissed her again,
gently. God, what had happened to him? To both of them? What could he do to erase this nightmare?

Rosalie took one step back, trailing her fingers down his arms, to his hands, then away.

“I think you'd better go now.”

He nodded.
“I'll find a way. I promise.”

<><><><>

Strickland was gone when Tom got back to the dance hall. Blood on the floor where he'd fallen had soaked into the rough board floor, staining it black.

“
Where is he?”

The bartender shook his head.
“Left when he woke up. Didn't say nothing. Plenty mad, though.”

No telling where he'd gone, or what he intended to do about his threat to make Rosalie marry him.

Tom had left her alone.

He
ran from the hall, knowing in his gut exactly where Strickland had gone. He slammed the front door back against the door frame.

No one there.
Dammit! How could he have been so stupid? He ran back to the hall and found Sadie.

“
Is Rosalie here?”

“
No, Sir. I ain't seen her. Maybe she came in while I was in the kitchen.”

Tom searched everywhere.
When he got to Lizzy's room, and found it bolted, he pounded and shouted through the door.

“
Rosalie! Are you in there?”

“
Who is it?” A voice not Rosalie's.

“
Tom McCabe. I'm looking for Rosalie Kincannon. Is she in there?”

The bolt slid back.
Tentatively, the door cracked open until the woman inside could see him. Satisfied, Jocelyn opened the door.

“
She ain't here, Mr. McCabe.”

“
Damn.” He raced down the hall, outside and searched every face in the crowded street.

Strickland had her.

What color dress had she been wearing? Blue. Or purple. Dammit, why hadn't he paid more attention? They couldn't have been gone long. Where would he have taken her? He couldn't be thinking of marrying her now, today, without so much as a warning to anyone. Could he?

Tom felt cold, even though the sun continued to bake Fort Worth.

             
<><><><>

Rosalie fought, but Strickland gripped her arm so hard she feared he might break the bone.

“
Let go of me!” she screamed again. “Someone help me! Please, help me!”

But no one heeded her cries.
Such supplications were commonplace in the Acre. To the cowboys in the street, she was just another bawd having to deliver what she'd taken money for, after changing her mind. Nothing special. They all went on their way without a second glance.

Rosalie knew better than to try and hit Zane.
He'd beat her to death if she did, or crush her hand, which was tingling and hot from his blood-stopping grip.

“
Where are you taking me?”

“
We're gonna get married.”

“
What?” He couldn't be serious!

Rosalie fought every
way she knew, with knees, feet, elbows, fingernails, and fists, trying to dislodge his grip on her. When she managed to scratch the left side of his face, leaving bloody marks to match the ones Lizzy had put on his other cheek, he finally let go and grabbed at his face, dropping her into the dirt.

He reached for his gun.
She ran, stumbling, trying to find safety from his bullets. Three shots in rapid succession. All wide. She might have scratched his eye, too. Maybe even put it out. Ironic justice, if she'd managed it. But she couldn't stop to find out. Three more bullets whizzed past. He couldn't see well enough to aim. Or, he was still too drunk. He'd have to reload. It would give her just enough time to get away.

She ran between two buildings.
Behind a saloon, she saw a woman standing just outside the back door.

“
Honey! In here!”

Rosalie didn't hesitate.
She darted in the door, then waited for instructions.

“
Last door on the left. Lock it from inside.”

“
Thank you. I can't thank you enough.”

“
Time for that later. Now git!”

Rosalie obeyed.
Inside, she bolted the door, then stood for a moment, trying to calm her breathing, fearing he might hear and follow. When there were no new voices outside after a couple of minutes, she wondered if she might have escaped this time.

Dear God,
she prayed, don't let him find me.

More long minutes crept by.
Rosalie sat on the edge of the bed, trembling, suppressing the sobs that shook her as fear drained slowly away.

A knock at the door!

“Honey, it's me. Natalie. You can open the door now. He's gone.”

“
Are...are you sure?”

“
I'm sure. You're safe, I promise.”

Rosalie slid the bolt back and opened the door.
Natalie wore a pink robe with red splotches, reminding Rosalie of a bouquet of roses, all bloomed out, wilting in the heat.

“
I'm Natalie. I know who you are. You're Kincannon's daughter, Rosalie. Am I right?”

She nodded.

“Well, that sorry bastard shooting at you is gone, I'm happy to say. Dragged away by the marshal and a couple of his deputies. I guess they saw there was gonna be a killin' if they didn't lock him up. Hauled his sorry butt to the calaboose. He'll think twice before he shoots at another woman in the Acre. I heard he's already been in that stink hole once this week.”

Rosalie listened, unable to speak for the terrible tightness in her throat.
When the tears came, Natalie held and soothed, leading Rosalie back to the bed. They sat on the edge.

“
Now, then, you cry it all out. You've had quite a scare, for sure. That Strickland's a mean one, he is. We don't allow him in here no more, no siree. That bastard and his knife aren't welcome around here.”

Rosalie looked into Natalie's painted eyes.
“He cut someone here, too?”

“
Yep. Just like Lizzy, over at your paw's place. Not as bad, though.” She opened her robe, revealing a slash across her belly, barely healed, still red and angry. She closed the robe. “I tried wearing a bandage, but it pulled and caught. So, I've been wearing this robe. Easier on my skin, you know? He just barely nicked me. I jigged out of the way just in time, for sure.”

“
It's a wonder he didn't kill you.”

“
That's what he seemed to have in mind for Lizzy, and for you, too. What did you do? You aren't one of the girls at the hall.”

“
How do you know that?”

“
Why, everybody knows you ain't one of the doves. I'm new here, so we ain't never met. I'm Natalie Jones. Pleased to make your acquaintance, although I feel as though I know you already, from all the stories I've heard from the other girls.”

“
What sort of stories?” Rosalie liked Natalie, and wondered how she knew so much.

“
They call you ‘the angel of mercy to the soiled doves.’”

“
An angel? Who calls me that?”

“
The girls you've helped, of course. Why, they all know who to come to when a cowboy gets out of hand and starts hitting or cutting. Or when a baby is due. I heard about Mary, God rest her soul. That must have been awful. I've birthed a few babes in my time, but never one like that.”

“
There was nothing I could do.”