An Angel in the Mail (16 page)

“What was Amy like?” Angel spoke softly.

“Why?”

She turned to him. “I don’t know. I guess I’m curious. I mean, I came after her.”

Nate shifted, settled his body in the corner of the settee, and tugged Angel so her back leaned against his chest. He ran his fingers up and down her arm. She closed her eyes as his deep voice rumbled through her body.

“Amy and her family moved here from Missouri. They came out on a wagon train, not too long before I arrived.”

Angel snuggled deeper, soothed by his voice and the motion of his hand.

“She had one sister, Natalie. Her parents were—actually, I assume they still are—devout Catholics. When Amy and I first met, I had recently gotten over a woman I’d never had a chance with. Amy was a pretty girl, quiet and shy. Her sister had died from measles shortly after they arrived in Oregon City, and Amy felt smothered by her parents’ attention. She also missed her sister something fierce. We spent a lot of time together, both of us trying to find what we’d lost.”

Angel looked over her shoulder to see him rub his hand across his forehead, and pinch the bridge of his nose. “Amy discovered she was pregnant. I don’t think either one of us felt ready to commit to marriage, but there it was. Needless to say, we had a quick wedding. Then seven months later Matt was born, quickly followed by Mark, Luke, John and Julia-Rose. Amy was nothing if not fertile.”

He chuckled. “Even though we had a mess of children, Amy never felt comfortable with my attentions. It was all a duty, she told me, which was what her mother had instilled in both her daughters.”

Angel listened without comment to the pain in Nate’s voice. She guessed a man didn’t appreciate hearing his love making represented a duty to his wife. She laid her head against his arm, rubbed her cheek on the soft cotton of his sleeve.

“We got along, though. She loved the boys, but never really got to know Julia-Rose. She didn’t recover well from her birth, and grew weaker and weaker until she finally died when Julia-Rose reached three months.”

Angel turned in his arms. “Why didn’t the boys recognize their grandparents when they came for a visit?”

Nate stared off into space for a moment. “I doubt Amy’s parents would have agreed to her marrying me if they weren’t panicked at catching us together.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not Catholic and that meant a lot to them. After Matt’s birth, they came for one visit, but during the visit she and Amy got into an argument, and she called Amy a whore. I told them to leave. I didn’t mean for them to never come back, but I guess that’s how they took it. I didn’t see them again until her funeral. Shortly after that visit, they moved to San Francisco.”

They sat silently for a while after Nate stopped talking. He continued to caress her arm. Even though recently introduced to lovemaking, Angel felt fortunate no one had ever told her it was a duty.

“It’s getting late.” Nate reached for her as he stood. Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs to the bedroom. They undressed and got into bed. Nate pulled her over, settling her head on his chest. “As much as I would like a repeat performance, you’ll be much too sore.”

“I’m fine.” She gazed up at him.

“No.” He gave her a gentle kiss on her lips, and settled her head back to his chest. “Good night.”

Angel snuggled down and kissed him on his chest. “Good night,” she mumbled.

Even though sleepy, she couldn’t help but think about their lovemaking that afternoon. She smiled at how he’d faked a headache to get her into a hotel room. Not convinced the desk clerk believed him, she mentally shrugged.

Nate said it wasn’t always that good. Hopefully, it would be so every once in a while. Heat rose to her face at how much she’d enjoyed his attentions. She had never felt such things before. Poor Amy, to have been told it was all a duty. Still amazed at her wanton behavior that afternoon, Angel squirmed, trying to clear her mind for sleep.

“Honey, please don’t wiggle like that.” Nate groaned. “I’m having a hard enough time keeping my hands off you as it is.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, chagrined.

“No, don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. Go to sleep now.”

Still awake an hour later, Nate turned his thoughts to Amy and Angel. Amy came from poverty, was stubborn, rigid and harsh in her dealings with others. She’d been a good mother, making sure the boys had clean clothes and nourishing food, but withheld her affections. Her housekeeping skills had left no room for criticism, the house always clean, laundry done, the meals tasty and abundant. She preserved all the vegetables in the meticulous garden she’d kept, and turned the hundreds of apples from the trees in the yard into applesauce and pies.

Angel, on the other hand, had been raised with every advantage. Yet, she remained unspoiled, compassionate, and he could tell by the way she handled the boys that strictness and rigidity were not part of her nature. She oftentimes pulled them in for a hug and touched them a lot, always tickling the boys and kissing Julia-Rose. He chuckled to himself. On the other hand, her housekeeping skills were non-existent, although she certainly tried.

Also, it seemed her adjustment to the marriage bed was impressive. He winced. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be as fertile as Amy.

“Oatmeal is easy to make.” Matt looked warily at the lump of dough on the kitchen table that Angel attempted to turn into biscuits.

“Is it?” Angel eyed the mess stuck to her fingers.

“Mrs. Darby made it all the time. I know how to do it,” he boasted.

“Could you show me? When your grandparents were here, your papa made it.” She spoke over her shoulder as she rinsed her hands under the water pump.

“Sure. Come on, it’s easy.”

Angel stood by and watched her nine-year-old stepson teach her how to make oatmeal. If she weren’t so anxious to get a meal on the table they could eat, she would be embarrassed. Mrs. Darby had shown her, but being so overwhelmed at the time, Angel had no recollection of how it was done.

She tossed the lump of biscuit dough in the garbage, and set bowls on the table, while Matt stirred the oatmeal. It did look easy, and she could probably fix it herself next time. Soon the rest of the family joined them.

After slicing the bread, Angel put a big scoop of oatmeal in each bowl, while Nate strapped Julia-Rose in her chair. Placing the jars of molasses and jam on the table, she glanced at the stove. “Oh, I forgot the coffee.” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“It’s all right. I can do without it. Just pour me a glass of milk.”

My, we’re much more relaxed and cheerful today, aren’t we?
She smiled as she poured the milk, and they all sat down. They had almost finished, when a knock sounded on the back door, and a man, a gun strapped to his waistline, walked in.

Angel’s heart sped up, but a glance at Nate’s welcoming smile relaxed her. “Mornin’, Sheriff.” He nodded in the big man’s direction. “Had breakfast yet?”

“Yes, I did, Nate. Thanks.” He took off his hat and walked up to her. “Is this the new wife?”

Nate turned to Angel. “This is Sheriff James Travis. Sheriff, my wife, Angel.”

He stuck out a meaty hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Her small hand about disappeared into his large one. A handlebar mustache covered a good portion of his face, but the twinkle in his soft brown eyes, and his warm smile, made him appear less threatening.

“What can we do for you?” Nate asked.

Angel glanced at Mark who had gone quite pale. He kept wiggling in his seat, his eyes darting back and forth as if looking for an escape.

“Mark, do you need to visit the privy?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He answered quickly, and leapt to his feet.

The sheriff clamped his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Stay here a minute, son.”

She shot Nate a questioning look.

“Is something wrong?” Nate pushed his bowl away, and leaned his elbows on the table, frowning at his son.

“I’d like to talk to you and the misses. And Mark.” He stared down at the boy.

Nate stood. “Matt, go on to school. Luke, you and John start your chores.”

Matt regarded his brother, and after picking up his books, hesitated at the door.

“Matt, I said go on to school.” Nate made a shooing motion with his hand. “Let’s go in the parlor, Sheriff.”

Angel’s stomach clenched as she picked up Julia-Rose. The Sheriff looked serious and Mark appeared nervous. She quickly wiped the baby’s face and hands and joined the men and Mark in the other room. The child perched on the edge of a chair, his arms crossed, head hanging down.

“Yesterday morning, someone broke into Conway’s Hardware storage room. He busted the window to get in, and from the looks of it, ate a lunch there, and spent some time.” The sheriff spoke softly, but his words cut through the silence like a shout.

Nate stared at the sheriff, eyebrows arched.

Sheriff Travis turned to Mark. “Young man, can you tell me why a paper with your name on it was found right under the glass from the broken window?”

Mark turned beet red and continued to stare at his feet.

“Mark, answer the sheriff.” Nate’s voice was calm, his gaze steady. Angel gripped Julia-Rose so hard, the child whimpered. She released her hold and kissed the top of the baby’s head. Her gaze rested on Mark, her heart thudding at his obvious distress. She glanced in Nate’s direction, but his expression remained closed. No sympathy there.

“Mark?” Nate said again.

Mark bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders. She had this fierce desire to rush over and wrap her arms around the child, and protect him from these two bullies. Couldn’t they see he was upset? He was only a little boy.

Before she could say anything, the Sheriff leaned his forearms on his knees, and looked directly at Mark. “Why weren’t you in school, son?”

Mark jumped up, tears standing in his eyes, his face still red. Hands fisted at his sides, he yelled at Nate. “I told you I hate school. I’m the dumbest one in the class. I can’t read, and when the teacher makes me, everybody laughs. Even the six-year-olds read better. I’m not going back. Not ever.”

“Settle down, son.” Nate rose and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Did you break that window?”

Ducking his head, Mark shrugged his shoulders.

“Is that a yes or no?”

The boy gave one sharp nod, and continued to stare at his shoe.

“If you broke the window, you owe Mr. Conway for fixing it. You present yourself there after school and work something out with him. You’ll have to sweep up, or anything else he needs done until it’s paid for. You understand me?”

Mark nodded his head again, and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

Angel’s heart sank. Mark couldn’t read? Why hadn’t she noticed it? The poor child must be mortified in school each day.

“Anything else, Sheriff?” Nate stood.

“No, that covers it.” He picked up his hat, and nodded at Angel. “Ma’am.” He patted Julia-Rose on the head and walked to the front door. The door closed, and they all stood like statutes in a museum.

Angel opened her mouth to speak, but Nate held up his hand, and turned to Mark.

“Son, I owe you an apology.”

Mark jerked his head up, eyes wide. “Why?”

“Because it was a while ago when you told me you were having trouble in school, and I promised to talk to your teacher, and never did. You go on to school now, and Angel and I will visit with your teacher this afternoon.”

“Why does she have to go?” Mark mumbled, taking side glances at Angel.

“Because she’s your stepmother, and it’s up to both of us to decide how to help you. Now get your books and go.”

“Don’t forget your lunch on the table,” Angel added as he headed for the door.

They sat in silence for a while after the door slammed. Sighing, Nate stood up. “I’ll be off now. Can you be ready around three o’clock to go to school?”

Angel nodded. “How long has he had this problem?”

“Longer than he should have. With Amy sick, and then trying to keep everything together by myself, I shoved it to the back of my mind.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Mark shouldn’t have skipped school, or broken the window, but I can’t help but think it was his way of bringing the problem out in the open.”

He bent and kissed her and the baby, and grabbing his hat, headed for the door, then turned. “I’ll be back at three. See if Alice can take care of Julia-Rose and the twins.”

“I’ll be ready.” Angel sank to the settee, her chin resting on Julia-Rose’s head. She might be a failure at housekeeping, but she knew all about school. After she’d left Miss Pennington’s Finishing School for Young Ladies, she had tutored local school children, and had thoroughly enjoyed herself. In fact, she looked forward to this afternoon’s meeting. Anger flashed through her.

That teacher better have a good explanation as to why my stepson can’t read.

Angel eyed her wardrobe, needing something special for the meeting. She pulled out an olive green light wool dress, with a matching tan and green print silk shawl. Taking extra care, she’d brushed her hair and pulled it back into a neat bun. She checked her stockings and swiped her shoes, and perched a brown suede hat on her head. Confident in her New York clothes, she walked Julia-Rose and the twins to Alice’s house and waited for Nate.