Cindy Holby (32 page)

“Oh my goodness,” Leah said. “I will never hear the end of this.” She would, come next Sunday when it was found that he was gone. There would be something else to talk about besides her dog having his way in the middle of the
street. “Come on Dodger,” she said and took off, with the dog trotting at her heels.

Lady sat down next to Ward as if nothing had happened at all. “I reckon I need to start thinking about a nursery,” Ward said.

Cade laughed again. If the circumstances were different, he had a feeling that he and the saloon owner could be friends. If only the circumstances were different.

“H
ow did you get these scars on your back?” Leah stroked her hand over his back. Cade lay half on top of her, with his head tucked up beneath her chin and over her breast. She’d twisted the ends of his hair between her fingers before moving down to his back.

He held on to her as if he was reluctant to let go. The sun was high in the sky and Banks would be home soon. She should be taking care of her chores, taking care of her son, yet she did not want to move, she wanted to stay where she was, forever. When had she turned into such a wanton? What was it about the way he looked at her, with his eyes full of such sweet desperation that made her melt and fall into his arms?

Was it how he made love to her, as if he would die if he couldn’t touch her, as if he needed her as much as he needed air, water and food that made her feel this way? Nate had never needed her like that. Yes, Nate had loved her and she
loved him, but this burning passion she shared with Cade was something new, something exciting, something extremely dangerous.

The week had been a blur. Ever since she walked into the house on Monday, after the lunch shift, after getting teased unendingly about Dodger’s romance, to find Cade finishing up hanging the door to her room. He had his shirt off, and she watched in wondrous fascination as the muscles moved across his back and shoulders. He’d tested the door, then satisfied with his work, took her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

They’d made love every day since. It didn’t matter that she needed to start supper. That she needed to catch up on a week’s worth of laundry, or that Banks would be home from school within the hour. All that mattered was that he needed her.

Yet he said nothing about a future, nothing about anything beyond the very moment they were in, and she didn’t push him. Still there were things she wanted to know because she wanted to understand him better. So she asked about the scars.

“It happened a long time ago,” he said.

“Did somebody beat you?”

He moved then, shifted to his side. Kissed her and then sat up on the edge of the bed with just the edge of the sheet over his lap and his long legs bare to the air. “Yes, somebody beat me until my back was bloody, then they left me tied to a wagon wheel for two days and nights. I was fifteen years old. They adopted me from the orphanage after my father left us there.”

Leah put her hand to her mouth to hold back a shocked gasp that somebody could be so cruel to a boy. Cruel to beat him and then cruel to leave him like that. There were so many questions rattling around in her mind. Why would somebody do that? It was too horrible for words. She wanted
to take him in her arms, and comfort the boy that had suffered so much when he was so young, but instead she waited for the rest of the story.

Cade scrubbed his hands through his hair, and then jerked his pants on. “You should get dressed. School will be out soon.” He picked up his boots and shirt and left the room, with Dodger on his heels, as usual. He shut the door firmly behind him.

Leah stared at the door, in shock, from his revelation and his abrupt departure. The man carried too many secrets, secrets that made her wonder if she had made a big mistake. Secrets that made her think she was in way over her head.

“He overcame it,” she said to the wall. “He became a minister.” The empty room held no answers, only more questions. How did a boy who survived a massacre in Colorado when he was ten and a beating at fifteen end up back in Ohio, only to come west again? There were too many questions, too many things about Timothy “Cade” Key that just didn’t make sense.

Since he was a minister, shouldn’t he marry her? It wasn’t that she wanted to trap him, but he declared his love for her over and over. Asked her to remember it above all else. And she believed him. She looked into his eyes and she knew it to be true. Could she be wrong? Could he be lying to her? And if he lied about loving her, then what else had he lied about?

Yes, she was in deep, deep trouble, because she was in love with him. She had a feeling things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better, if they got better at all.

“Maybe he’s just worried about Sunday and the first service.” Strange, now that she thought on it. She hadn’t seen him making any preparation for it at all. Not once had he picked up the Bible, or written out notes, or anything that she supposed a minister should do. He could be doing it while she was at work in the morning.

She knew, deep in her heart, that he hadn’t done a thing to prepare for Sunday, just as she knew that something was terribly wrong with Pastor Timothy Key.

It was time to go. Dang it! Cade kicked at a chunk of snow as he stepped off the back porch. He had tried to convince himself all week that he’d figure out a way around it. “God, I’ve just made it worse.”

He never should have touched her, never should have kissed her, and certainly never should have made love to her. His entire life was a litany of never should haves.

But God…he loved her.

Cade went to the shed, buttoning his shirt as he walked. The wind caught it and he jerked it back into place, his motions quick with impatience. He needed to find a hat before he left; his was long gone, lost in his flight from Fitch. The chickens scattered as he stalked onward, clucking insults as they ran away from his long strides. Roscoe flew at his ankles and pecked in indignation. Dodger, done with his business, trotted up to Cade with a questioning woof as he put his hand on the door of the shed.

He wanted to rip the door off the shed. Cade wanted to scream his frustration to the mountaintops. He could blame everything that had happened since he arrived in Angel’s End on his past, but the truth was he’d dug this hole by himself. He’d wanted Leah and he’d taken her and the consequences to Leah be damned.

He knelt by the door. Dodger must have sensed his despair. He laid his head on Cade’s knee and stared up at him with his deep, dark accepting eyes. Dodger liked him.

“You’re a good dog,” Cade said as he rubbed the dog’s head. “A horrible judge of character, but a good dog.”

Dodger was content. He closed his eyes and leaned into Cade’s hands.

“I’ll miss you too,” he told the dog. He’d miss all of them, Banks, Dodger, Ashes, even the scrappy little rooster that strutted around the yard.
Leah…
His heart hurt. The thought of never seeing her again wrenched at his insides worse than the bullet that led him here.

Did it lead him here? Had Timothy been right when he spoke the words by the fire.
God led you to this place at this time in your life. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps God’s answer was not now? To wait and be patient and see where he leads you?

Had his blind escape from Timothy’s camp led him to this place, to this town, to this woman? Why? Wouldn’t he have been better off to not know her? Leah certainly would be better off not knowing him…unless…maybe this was the impetus she needed to marry Jake Reece. Maybe it was all part of God’s plan, showing her what could happen to her without the protection of a good man.

The thought of her with Jake Reece would surely kill him.

“It’s time to go…” Cade gave Dodger one final pat and looked around the yard once more before he went into the shed. He’d make his preparations now and leave tonight, when she lay down with Banks. She’d be better off with him gone and hopefully by Christmas he’d be nothing more than a bad memory.

“You are every kind of fool Cade Gentry…” Cade found his stash and pulled out the gun. He checked the load. Fitch was out there somewhere, with his long memory and his need for revenge. He wouldn’t stop until one of them was dead. “Maybe this time I’ll get lucky and it will be me.”

It wasn’t often that such a big group rode into town on a Friday. Lady jumped to her feet as Ward played. Her ears, turned toward the door, alerted him that somebody was on the way in. When five men, all of them strangers, walked
into the Heaven’s Gate he was both surprised and pleased. Unexpected money was always nice. He could only hope they would stay awhile and be free with it. Maybe he could get them into a card game.

“Keep playing and mind your own business,” one of them growled. Another one gave a look to his grouchy companion that said
do the same
. Lady rumbled deep in her throat. Ward motioned her down with a finger and went back to playing. Bill always kept a shotgun behind the bar, in case things got rowdy, and he wasn’t afraid to pull it out. Ward always lived by the philosophy of not showing his cards until he had to. It served him well when he was playing and it served him well in life. There was no need for these guests to think he wasn’t anything more than a piano player.

They had traveled long and hard. They took off their heavy coats and gloves, and threw them across chairs before they bellied up to the bar. Luckily Bill was handy as he’d just come in from the back with a case of bottles. He sat the box down and went to wait on them. Pris must have seen them from upstairs. It was a bit early for customers; still she came down, wearing her best dress and showing an abundance of what God had blessed her with.

“Whiskey,” one said and Bill lined up the glasses for all of them. As one they tossed it back and motioned for another. Bill poured the shots and looked over their shoulders to Ward. Ward raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment. A mirror hung over the top of the piano, angled so he could watch the saloon without anyone aware that he was. They had their signals worked out, he, Bill and Pris. Right now they were just going to wait and see. The West was full of men who were hard, and most of them just wanted a place to stop and warm up before they went on their way. There was no reason for them to be in Angel’s End other than it was the last town before the country got wild and the going got rough. They’d probably been caught in the past few
storms unawares and were anxious for warmth, company and good food to fill their bellies. Hopefully they had money to spend. He wasn’t the only one who would prosper by them stopping in town. Dusty and the Swansons could also. All he had to do was sell them a few drinks and rent them some rooms.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. The men had an edge to them that said tread lightly.
I should have worn my gun…
He usually did, and even had it on this morning, but had taken it off when he got back from a ride out to see Jake, who was in a fine mood when Ward told him about the preacher and Leah holding hands. He’d washed up a bit, had some lunch, and then sat down to play as he was still trying to puzzle out the preacher. Perhaps the six who were now moving about the place, all but one of them going to the potbellied stove to soak up the warmth, would be a welcome distraction. Ward often found the best way to solve a problem was to think on something else.

Pris joined the men around the stove. She stretched her hands out to warm them, at the same time sticking her behind out and heaving her chest forward, giving all of them a good view. Her laughter tinkled over his music.

Now was as good a time as any to see what they were up to. Ward stopped with a flourish, stood and stretched with a big yawn while reaching his arms out as if he’d been sitting there for days. He grinned heartily at the man still standing at the bar and then sauntered over to the door. Lady followed, of course. He opened the door to see if she needed to go out, but she just looked at him.

If things got ugly he sure didn’t want her to get hurt. Especially since she was probably carrying pups now.

“Harlot,” he said to her, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“That’s a strange name for a dog,” the man at the bar said.

Ward studied the man from beneath his hat brim. From
all appearances he was still looking at Lady but he could size someone up in a hurry. This one was the leader, he had the money and he readily threw it on the bar. The rest were his hired guns. And they were scared to cross him. The one who’d spoken up when they came in stood behind the others, just in case. That meant he had a temper.

Why were they here?

“That’s not her name,” Ward drawled. He pushed his hat back and flashed another grin. “It’s just that I caught her out on the street the other morning, doing the deed for the entire world to see with some trashy stray.” Ward casually looked out onto the street before he shut the door. It was empty, except for six wearied horses hitched to his rail. School would let out soon and the little ones would be on the street as they made their way home.

“Right beneath the angel,” he added as he pulled the door firmly shut. “I’m surprised the good Lord just didn’t strike her and that worthless mutt dead.”