Angel by Johanna Lindsey
She was going back to Cheyenne.
Seeing that man who was the image of Rafferty Slater hadn’t merely shocked her, it had set her to fretting all the way home. Her mama undoubtedly had the right of it. He was probably Slater’s brother, more than likely his twin brother. And his showing up in Cheyenne, where both she and Angel hailed from, was just too coincidental for her peace of mind.
Even if he wasn’t here seeking revenge for his brother’s death, she had to warn Angel about him. Rafferty had tried to shoot Angel in the back, and dirty tactics like that tended to run in the family. At any rate, she wasn’t taking any chances, not where Angel was concerned. She wasn’t about to lose him to a no-account, cowardly back stabber just when she’d decided to keep him.
She reached Cheyenne faster than she ever had before, but it was still dark when she rode in, and the clouds that had been hovering all day were going to hold back the moon, so she wouldn’t be able to ride as fast on the return trip. She might not make it home before dinner after all, but she’d worry about explaining to her mother when the time came.
She knew where to find Angel. It was standard knowledge that he resided at Agnes’s boardinghouse because the old lady was so fond of him, and never rented out his room to anyone else, even when he was gone for months at a time. Whether he was actually in at this time of the evening was another matter. She hoped she wouldn’t have to wait around or go hunting for him in town, but if she had to, she would.
She tied up her mare in front of the boardinghouse. Only a dim light from a parlor window was lighting the porch, but it was enough to keep her from tripping on the steps leading to the door. Cassie didn’t quite get that far.
“Don’t move lessen I tell you to, little lady, and don’t make a sound.”
A gun jabbing against her back reinforced that order. Cassie had no difficulty recognizing it even through the thickness of her jacket. And she wasn’t wearing her own. She never did to Cheyenne, and she hadn’t wasted time to fetch it at home before she’d returned to town.
Obviously she should have. But she hadn’t been thinking of danger, just of getting to Angel to warn him. It was too late to berate herself for not examining Agnes’s porch more closely, too. She knew better. Such carelessness could easily cost a life. It was possible she was going to find that out firsthand.
A hand on her shoulder turned her, so that the gun was now jabbed into her belly. She’d had a feeling she would recognize her accoster, and she did.
“Nice of you to come back to town to make this easy for me.”
She didn’t acknowledge that remark. She knew him, but she had to ask, “Who are you?”
“They call me Gaylen,” he said. “But you know my last name, don’t you? Folks don’t usually forget someone they help to kill.”
Cassie went quite pale, though common sense made her insist, “You’re not Rafferty.”
“ ‘Course I’m not, but no one ever could tell us apart, so if s the same, ain’t it? Lookin’ at me is lookin‘ at the man you killed.”
It wouldn’t do to point out that Rafferty had deserved it. “What do you want?”
“I was gonna take care of that Angel fellow first, then you after, but now that I have you, I’ll have to rethink on it. Come along. My horse is tied up out back.”
Cassie wasn’t given much choice with his hand clamping on the back of her neck and his gun moving to her side. She thought about screaming, but didn’t care to get shot for the effort. And he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. It was dark, with no moon and nothing but flat plain behind the boardinghouse. He’d be gone before the smoke cleared, while she wouldn’t be alive to say who’d done it.
He put her on his horse in front of him. He didn’t holster his gun, so she didn’t consider trying to jump off yet. They rode out onto the plain so he could circle around the town without being seen; then he headed toward the foothills in the east.
It was nearly five hours later before he found the small, one-room cabin. Cassie had a feeling he’d been lost for the past two hours. Smoke curled out the chimney. Another horse stood in the lean-to nearby. Seeing it, she finally remembered that he’d had a friend with him in town earlier.
The friend was sleeping, curled into his bedroll before the fire, when Gaylen pushed her into the cabin. He didn’t bother to wake him yet. The only furniture in the room was a table with one chair. Neither looked very sturdy.
He gave her a brief glance as he set his saddlebags on the table and started to rummage through them. “Your folks got money, don’t they? Lots of it?”
“Yes, why?”
“Some of it might compensate me for my loss.”
“Then you won’t try to kill Angel?”
“Didn’t say that.”
He pulled out a bandana and a strip of rawhide and motioned Cassie into the far corner. The bandana ended up around her wrists, the rawhide around her ankles—after he’d yanked her boots off and tossed them across the room.
“I’ve decided to send Harry down with my demands,” he told her when he had finished. “This has worked out better’n I first figured on.”
“How’s that?”
“It’ll be easier killin‘ that fast gun up here. Won’t have to rush off after or worry about no posse. Your ranch ain’t far from here, is it?”
“How should I know?” she said unhelpfully. “I couldn’t tell where we were going.”
“I reckon if s not far.”
Never once had he raised his voice or sounded like a man enraged over his brother’s death. His attitude wasn’t natural, but she took some small hope from it. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as Rafferty had been. Maybe he wasn’t all that happy about the killing he felt he had to do. And maybe he didn’t even know what kind of man his brother had become. She decided to enlighten him, just in case.
“You know, your brother was no good. He stampeded cattle. He tried to—”
“Don’t be talkin‘ against my brother,” was all he said, and even that was said mildly.
He ignored her then to go over and kick Harry awake. They conferred quietly by the fire for a while, with Harry glancing her way more than once. He wasn’t as tall as Gaylen. His eyes were a dull gray, his brown hair long and stringy, his clothes ill-fitting and stained. He was, in fact, an ugly little man, the kind easily led by others.
Cassie strained to hear them, but couldn’t catch more than a word or two. After they did some scribbling on an old newspaper, using soot right out of the fireplace, Harry shrugged into his jacket and left. Gaylen settled down in the vacated bedroll by the fire.
Cassie waited a few minutes, but it really did look like the man was going to go to sleep, and never mind that she hadn’t been fed, or offered a blanket or even a position closer to the fire. Warmth wasn’t her immediate concern, however.
“Just how did you plan to get Angel up here?”
“He’s gonna bring me your ma’s money.”
“What makes you think he’ll do that? It’s more likely my mama will send—”
“She’ll send Angel, or if s no deal.”
“She might ask him, but that doesn’t mean he’ll agree to come,” Cassie pointed out.
“He’s a gun for hire, ain’t he? So your mama can hire him if he don’t want to do it for nothing. And he don’t know who’s got you or that I aim to kill him, so why wouldn’t he come? ‘Sides, I heard you got hitched to him ’fore you two left Texas. It would look pretty bad if the man didn’t come to get his wife, now wouldn’t it?”
Cassie didn’t hear much beyond the mention that Angel would be coming up here unaware of what was waiting for him. That hadn’t occurred to her. She wished it hadn’t been pointed out now because with it came a sick feeling of dread. Would her mama remember that she’d seen Rafferty’s brother in town and draw the right conclusion? Would she even mention it to Angel if she did?
Cassie had to do something, get away, or think of some way to warn Angel. If Gaylen hadn’t tied her hands behind her back, she co
Her only option at the moment seemed to be to help Gaylen into rethinking the matter. But as she stared at him lying there, his arms tucked behind his head, looking so peaceful, as if he weren’t contemplating murder, she wasn’t the least bit confident.
She still had to try. “Would you kill a man who’d tried to shoot you in the back, Slater?”
“Sure I would.”
“Well, that’s why Angel shot your brother.”
“Lady, I heard what went on down there. That man of yours was lookin‘ for my brother to kill him, and he’s known to be faster’n lightnin’. Either way Rafe woulda died, so what he tried was the only chance he had, as I see it. You gonna tell me that there Angel of Death wasn’t out to kill him?”
She couldn’t very well do that. “Your brother tried to rape me. That’s why.”
He glanced over at her then, showing her the first bit of emotion. It was surprise. “Well, shoot, what’d he want to do that for? You ain’t nothin‘ much to look at.”
Heat stole up Cassie’s cheeks. “That doesn’t change the fact—”
“Even if he did rape you,” he broke in, “thaf d be no reason to die.”
With that attitude, he’d never admit his brother might have deserved what he’d got, so she changed tactics. “You won’t get away with this. If you succeed in killing Angel, I’ll hunt you down myself. There won’t be anywhere—”
He cut her off again with a snort “Lady, what makes you think you’ll be leavin‘ here alive? The only reason you ain’t dead yet is in case that fast gun wants to see you ’fore he comes in close enough for me to shoot him. You’re the reason he killed Rafe, so you gotta die, same as him.”
He probably thought that would shut her up. It nearly did. “You—you still won’t get away with it. I saw you in town today. I told my mama. She’s smart enough to figure if s you, so the name Slater will be on Wanted posters in every state and the Western territory. You’ll never have another moment’s peace if you murder us.”
“So I’ll leave die country,” he replied with a shrug. “That won’t bother me none. But you’re botherin‘ me, so shut it up, girlie, ’fore I stuff something in your mouth. They won’t be able to get the money until the bank opens in the mornin‘, so that gunfighter won’t be gettin’ here until near noon. I need some sleep ‘fore then.”
Cassie decided against telling him that her mama would have him hunted down, no matter where he went. His answer would probably be that he’d kill her, too.
She gave up for the time being. She’d have time in the morning to work on him some more, and his friend Harry, too. The smaller man would be easier to scare, and maybe he could talk some sense into Slater.
But she refused to let him have the last word.
“I’m hungry,” she complained.
“I ain’t wastin‘ food on a dead woman.”
She let him have the last word after all.
Chapter 39
Catherine pounded on Angel’s door at two o’clock that morning. It sounded like she was breaking it down. The other boarders were out in the hall having a look at what woke them by the time Angel had opened the door. She had two of her tougher-looking cowhands with her. Angel stood there in just his pants—and his gun. His first thought was, she’d intended to escort him out of town, especially since she was carrying that damn black bag again. But if so, she should have tried it more quietly. The gun he leveled at his visitors said he was staying right there. And having been awakened from a very pleasant dream about her daughter, he was in no mood for any more of her insults.
“You try to give me that money again and I’ll burn it,” he told her.
“If s not for you. I’m here to hire you.”
“To leave the country?” he sneered.
“No, to get Cassie back. Was she here? Her horse is still out front.”
“I haven’t seen her—and what do you mean, to get her back? Where is she?”
“She’s being held in a cabin up in the foothills. From the crude map they drew, I’d say if s an old trapper’s cabin not far from my ranch. I don’t know how many men there are, but they want twenty thousand dollars or they say they’ll—they’ll kill her.”
Angel’s gun slowly lowered. It was only then he noticed how pale Catherine was. He probably looked the same.
He hoped she was lying, that this was no more than a setup to get rid of him. Could she be that underhanded? Probably, but the fear he saw in her eyes told him this wasn’t one of those times.
“How did this happen?”
“She was with me in town today. When we got home, she took off by herself. She left the message that she was just going for a ride, but with her horse here, I have to assume she was coming to see you. But since you haven’t seen her, she must have been taken almost immediately after she got here.”
“And all they want is twenty thousand?”
His surprise was understandable. Everyone who knew the Stuarts knew they came from old money.
“Apparently they don’t know how much I’m worth,” Catherine said. “Which is fortunate in one respect only. I just happen to have that much on hand, so I don’t have to wait until the morning to visit the bank.”
Only because she’d tried to bribe him out of town. Her slight blush said she was remembering that, too. It got worse when she added, “The other five thousand is still in the bag. That was what you said your price is, wasn’t it?”
“Take it out.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Take the five out. I won’t work for you, Mrs. Stuart, not for any reason.”
He turned away after saying it. Catherine took a step forward, which put her inside his room. “You have to,” she said in a beseeching tone. “I don’t know why, but they say they’ll only take the money from you. If anyone else tries to deliver it—”
He was putting his shirt on when he interrupted her. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t deliver it.”
“Then let me pay you.”
“To collect my wife?” He paused to give her a dark look. “She is still my wife, isn’t she?”
Catherine went red in the face again because she suspected he wasn’t going to move another inch unless she answered him. “Yes,” she bit out.
He didn’t rub it in, but he did continue dressing. “Where is that cabin?”
“Jim here can show you where it is, but he can’t back you up. They say specifically, you’re to go in alone.”
“Didn’t figure it otherwise. Do you have any idea who these men are? Enemies of yours, maybe?”
“Mine, no—but possibly yours.”
“What makes you think so?”
She shrugged, her look uncertain. “It could be just a wild guess, but Cassie saw someone in town today that shook her up pretty bad. She claimed he was the man you killed while down in Texas.”
“I killed more’n one down there.”
“That Cassie knew about?”
“No. That would be Rafferty Slater,” he said. “But dead men don’t walk.”
“That’s what I said,” Catherine replied. “But she insisted this man looked exactly like the one you killed. The only reasonable explanation is that they’re brothers, maybe even twins.”
“And a brother might be after a little revenge,” Angel concluded as he shrugged on his slicker. “Thanks for the warning.”
Cassie’s teeth were chattering. The cabin hadn’t been made very well. The cold had been seeping in along the floorboards all night. An icy wind was coming in through one larger crack in the wall near her back. The fire was still going
She could have managed to scoot across the floor to get nearer to the fire if she’d tried to. But Gaylen was hogging it, and she couldn’t bear to get close to a man who was going to shoot her while she was bound tight and helpless to prevent it, so she stayed where she was. She supposed he wouldn’t have minded waking up to find her frozen stiff. It would save him a bullet.
Then Harry had returned and had done a lot of staring at her before he settled back down— again in front of the fire. He even added another log to it, but the heat still didn’t reach Cassie. And after the way the little man had looked at her, like he wouldn’t mind warming her himself, she definitely wasn’t getting near either one of those two, no matter if she did freeze.
She must have fallen asleep at some point, though that hadn’t been her intention. What woke her, she wasn’t sure. Possibly her chattering teeth. But it was still night. The cabin didn’t boast a single window, but the cracks in the walls would have shown up sunlight if it was out there.
Her hands were completely numb now. She’d spent a good hour earlier trying to stretch the cloth to slip at least one hand out, but Gaylen had tied her so tight, she’d have to be cut loose. She doubted he’d bother to do that before he shot her.
She’d stared at the door for a long time, debating whether to try to leave. No more than a loop of rope hooked to the wall was locking it from intruders. She might have been able to work that loose with her teeth, and her chin could have taken care of the latch. But the door was a lot closer to the fire and the two men than to her, and she was afraid the cold that would blast in when she opened it would wake them both, if not immediately, then soon, because she doubted she’d be able to close the door behind her with the wind pushing at it. Besides, she wouldn’t get very far, rolling and scooting down the foothills. And Gaylen might just go ahead and kill her now if she put him to the trouble of having to go after her. That wouldn’t help Angel when he arrived. And it certainly wouldn’t help her.