Angel and the Texan From County Cork (The Brides of Texas Code Series Book 3) (9 page)

She didn’t know what to do with that statement. To her mind he still thought her mentally weak. Taking back her hand, she picked up the bundle of mail. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to read these now.”

“I just came in to let ye know I’ll be finishin’ up outside before I come in for the night.”

“Fine.” He could take as long as he wanted for all she cared. “We’re not finished with this conversation.”

“Fine.”

She jumped when he pulled the door shut behind him with a thunk. She closed her eyes at his show of Irish temper. He hadn’t yet seen the full scope of her own temper or stubborn nature.

Closing the door to the bedroom, she sat on the bed and flipped through the stack of letters. The top one was from a law office in Dallas, “ARCHER BENNING ASSOC”. She recognized the name of Benning as that of Will’s friend and Jamey’s brother-in-law. The next one was smaller in size and addressed to Will by Will. She ran her fingers over the scrawl, wondering what he would have sent to himself. But the letter she opened first came from Ohio.

Eagerly, she tore open the envelope and skimmed quickly over the pages promising herself to go back later and savor the precious words in detail. She stopped on the last paragraph and drew in a quick breath. It couldn’t be true.

“Jamey!” she squealed. Jumping up, she ran into the main room leaving the other missives scattered on the floor.

He entered, closing the door firmly behind him. Rubbing his hands together, he said, “It’s still freezin’ but not quite as cold as yesterday.” When he removed his coat, he looked her way. His brows drew together in apparent concern. “Colleen? What’s wrong?”

She realized she stood in the middle of the room bouncing up and down with the pages fisted in her hands and clutched to her chest. Tears were streaming down her face. “You’ll never guess the news.”

“No, but it would be good if you could explain it to me. What’ve ye got?”

Twirling in place one more time, she stopped, and smiled wide. “My best friend is coming from Ohio. I can’t believe it.”

“The girl ye told me about?”

“Yes.” She hadn’t read past the sentence that said they were coming. She didn’t yet know why or when. Straightening the crinkled stationary, she read the particulars out loud. “Let’s see, she says, if all goes well, they’ll be here a day or two after Christmas to visit and to look for a place to live.

“It seems her husband has a desire to live in Texas.” She swiped at the joyful tears and smiled. “I can’t believe it.”

“They could be here at any time then.”

“Yes, they could. I’ll get busy in the morning getting ready.” Her mind was spinning in too many directions to think properly. There were so many things to do. She had to put the clothes away that she’d washed, switch the furniture back to its original place, and cook enough food to last a couple of days.

“Now that Marshal Handley and Doc have been here to examine Will, we need to get him buried as soon as possible. I’m sure ye’d like to have that done before yer friend gets here.” After a few seconds, he asked, “Do ye still want him under the trees out front?”

“Yes, I do. That was his choice.”

“Good, then I’ll get started early in the mornin’ diggin’ the grave.”

Angel’s happy mood deflated. Suddenly, her giddy light-hearted mood for her friend’s arrival disappeared with talk of her husband’s funeral. And no matter how upset she was with Jamey, he was right, of course. Will should be laid to rest before too much longer.

Suddenly exhausted again, she folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope. She slid it into the pocket of her skirt and walked quietly to the bedroom. At the door, she turned and said, “I haven’t forgiven you, but I can help you tomorrow if you need me. Good night.” 

CHAPTER TEN

Jamey leaned against the handle of the shovel to stretch and rest his back. It had taken him the better part of the morning to fashion a casket from the walls of an empty stall in the barn and to dig the spot of ground under the oak tree for his friend's final resting place. He hated to ask but he was just about at the point where he needed Angel’s help.

He’d left her sleeping soundly when he’d come out after sun up. She hadn’t popped her head out of the cabin all morning so he figured, aside from cleaning, she must still be angry with him over his choosing to keep information from her. He didn’t hold out much hope that talking would change her mind either. She wasn’t going to understand he’d wanted to protect her as much as he could. That was the problem with an independent, stubborn woman.

A horse and rider caught his attention. As they neared, he recognized the man he’d come to like and respect in the short time he’d been here. He set the shovel against the tree.

“Marshal, I didn’t expect to see ye back here so soon. Is everythin’ all right?”

Handley dismounted and glanced around. “Hard to say, but I wanted to stop on my way back to town to tell you what I know.” He walked around his horse to stand by Jamey. “You didn’t waste any time getting the grave dug. Could you use some help?”

“Sure’n I won’t be turnin’ any help away. I can use ye to get the body into the box and into the ground if ye have the time.”

“I do.” He clapped Jamey on the shoulder. “While we’re working, I’ll fill you in.”

Jamey rubbed his gloved hands together to rid them of excess dirt. “Much obliged. I’ve moved the wagon by the root cellar door to make it easier to carry Will out here.”

“Let’s get to it.”

Walking side-by-side, Jamey quizzed Marshal Handley. “You made it over to Moran’s ranch last night like you planned?”

“I did. I talked to a few of the hands about Radley but nobody’s willing to speak against him.”

“Was he there? What’d he have to say?”

“Radley said the horse strayed up to Moran’s ranch with just a saddle and nothing else.”

“No saddle bags, blankets . . . nothin’?”

“Said he didn’t know where the horse had come from or who he belonged to.”

“That’s a load of blarney, he—”

Handley held up his hands, palms facing Jamey. “Take it easy, O’Donnell, I recognized Will’s saddle, too.”

“What are ye going to do about it?”

“Nothing I can do until I can prove he’s lying.”

Jamey and Marshal Handley loaded the wooden box into the back of the wagon. When they were done, Jamey stood beside the wagon, his hands gripping the side wall.

“Before we take the body to the grave, I should let Angel know you’re here and what ye know so far. I wish I had better news.”

“So do I, but I may not know more until Moran gets back. He’s expected on the next train.”

“Come on in for a bit and warm yerself for a bit.”

“Thanks, I’d like that.”

Jamey lost his footing as he reached the corner of the porch and he grabbed for the corner post. At precisely the same moment, he heard the sound of furniture hitting the floor. Handley must have heard it, too, for he pulled his gun. Jamey opened his coat and retrieved his own gun from its holster on his hip.

He put his finger to his lips for quiet and motioned for Handley to go around the back of the cabin. He drew in a steadying breath. There was no need for him to check on the other side of the cabin where he’d found the horse the other day. Only one scenario came to his mind. Curly Radley was inside the cabin with Angel. His Angel. And the bastard had better not harm her.

***

Angel had worked all morning cleaning, scrubbing, and polishing every stick of furniture, floorboard and dish. She’d even washed the soot off the lamp chimneys. The cabin had to be as perfect as she could make it for Cissie’s visit.

She still couldn’t believe her best friend was coming to see her and might possibly be living close in the area. Just being in the same state was more than she could have hoped for. It was like she’d made this happen by thinking about her so much in the last few days. Granted she hadn’t arrived yet but she was close. Angel’s entire body hummed with her excitement over Cissie’s nearness.

The aroma from the spice cake she’d put in the oven nearly an hour ago filled the cabin. It must be almost done. Between that and the pot of stew simmering on the stove, her house smelled like home.

Jamey had been outside for hours and she’d tried hard not to think about what he’d been doing. She’d resisted looking out the window, but she’d heard the familiar sounds of a hammer and handsaw. At one point she’d even heard the shovel striking the frozen ground. Will Rivers would more than likely be buried today.

Boots on the porch drew her thoughts away from the unpleasantness of a small funeral. She brightened at the thought of seeing Jamey. She wasn’t mad at him anymore. His actions, she realized, hadn’t been malicious or deceitful. For some reason she couldn’t figure out, he truly wanted to help and protect her.

She’d come to trust him and even liked him more than a little and if he planned to stay . . . but he didn’t. He would leave as soon as he could for his next adventure. The little voice inside her head said, but he’s here now. With that knowledge, she wiped her face with the hem of her apron and tucked stray tendrils of her hair into the ebony colored combs. With a smile on her lips, she hurried to the door and pulled it open.

Curly Radley stood in front of her grinning like the devil she knew him to be. All of the air whooshed from her lungs. She felt light headed and nauseous. She wanted to slam the door in his face but was frozen in place like the pump handle had been yesterday. After a few seconds she found her voice,

“What are you doing here and what do you want?”

“Why, I’m here to see you, little lady.”

“My husband’s right outside.”

“Yeah? So is the marshal, but that ain’t gonna matter much.”

“But I—”

He shoved her back and pushed the door closed behind him. “All you have to do is give me what I want and I’ll be on my way.”

“I don’t have anything,” she protested. “What is it you think I have?”

“I want the deed for this place.”

“There is no deed. I promise you Will left me nothing.”

Radley grabbed her by her arm and swung her around, taking her with him as he emptied shelves and turned over furniture like a man crazed. In the bedroom, he pulled out the dresser drawers and emptied their contents onto the floor then dragged her back into the main room. In one motion he pulled her to him, her arm twisted behind her back and his other hand drawn back ready to strike her.

“I know better than that. I heard him tell Moran he had it tucked away nice and safe. Now where is it?”

His face was so close he sprayed her with spittle when he spoke and his foul breath made her want to gag. She looked him straight in the eye without so much as a blink.

“I. Don’t. Know.” She spoke slowly, deliberately so the bully might understand. “He’d taken it from the bank already and didn’t tell me.”

“It has to be here!”

“Why? Because it wasn’t on him when you shot him and left him to die?” Movement outside the porch window snagged her attention and bolstered her courage. Jamey, thank God. “Marshal Handley knows you’re riding Will’s horse. It’s just a matter of time before he charges you with murder.”

“You slut,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Ain’t nobody going to jail. I found that horse.”

“You’re a horse thief and a murderer, Curly Radley. You killed Will Rivers and stole his horse and the marshal will prove it!”

When he drew back his hand again, Angel had had enough. Catching him off guard, she leaned into him and brought her knee straight up into his privates. He let her go with a shove and a yelp and then he screamed when he landed backward onto the hot stove.

Simultaneously, the front door burst open and the glass in the bedroom window exploded. Jamey rushed over to her, gathering her into his arms.

Holding her tightly, he asked, “Are ye all right, Colleen?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She was breathing like she had when she and Cissie had raced to school but, for the first time in a long time, she felt good about herself.

The marshal, covered in glass shards, grabbed Radley off the stove and threw him to the floor.

“Marshal, you gotta arrest her,” Radley cried out and groaned. “That bitch tried to kill me.”

“Curly, stop your whining. No man’s ever died from a knee to his crotch.”

Jamey’s head jerked up and he shot a glance to Handley. He raised his brows in question and pointed to the woman in his arms. “My Angel?”

“Sure enough,” Handley said with a grin. “Saw it through the window before I broke in.”

Jamey looked down at one of the most feminine women he’d possibly ever known. Her cheeks were flushed with red and he couldn’t tell whether her expression said she would fight him or run from the room.