Little Sam's Angel (23 page)

Pierce no longer had an easy target, but sneered at Sammy. "She'll stick, and this ain't over, not yet," he promised as he left them, but he betrayed his act of bravado by rubbing a sweaty palm on his thigh before he entered the room he shared with Brenda.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at the pile of his clothes on the floor.

"Re-packing," Brenda said coldly. "My things in my case and your things..." She pointed to a heap she was throwing thoughtlessly on the floor. "I'm leaving."

"Little Sam must have told you the claim ain't no good, but it ain't the end. We'll still have it all, just like we planned."

"You fool. Do you really think you can beat Angel Taylor?"

"Angel?" he asked in confusion. "What are you calling him Angel for?"

"Gabriel, like the angel—Angel is what they call him, and it isn't just because of his name they call him that. He's so good and pure. Wouldn't lie, cheat, steal, or touch another man's wife. I didn't believe it. I knew he watched me when others couldn't see. I knew he wanted me, the same as all of them."

"Any man that ever saw you would," he said, trying to embrace her.

She pushed his hands away, moving out of his reach. "I was going to the line camp that day where I knew he was. I was going to tell him I was lost. I made sure it'd be dark, and I'd have to stay the night, then I'd have him."

"No, Brenda," he said, shaking his head, trying again to put his arms around her. "Don't talk like that."

"Yes," she said, shoving him away. "But we met on the way. I told him I was running away, begged him to help me. He refused, so I faked a fall from my horse. Are you listening to this, darling?"

He winced when she twisted the endearment, making it sound ugly. He couldn't move then, not toward her or away from her, not able to do more than listening while she destroyed his world.

"You really want to know why I hate him? He turned his back on me. I was naked beside him, coaxing him to wake up, and he turned his back on me. He said it wasn't proper and turned away. I wanted to make him suffer for that moment, and I did. I told him he'd forced me that night. I told him it was his baby I carried, not my husband's, and he suffered, his poor conscience, and it came in so handy. He was going to get all that land for me and more. I wanted more, all there was to have, and I needed him to get it, telling him it was for his son."

She whirled around, pacing the room in the rage the memories stirred. "He could have had me then. I was there, wanting him, and he knew it, but Angel said it was wrong. He said what I was doing was wrong, and he walked out on me. ME! Do you hear, Pierce, he walked out on me!"

"You stop it now. Stop lying to me. That ain't so. He raped you like you said."

"He wouldn't have me! The only man I ever wanted, and I wasn't good enough for him."

"Now, Brenda, don't say them things. They ain't true."

"You," she said, looking at him in disgust. "How I've loathed the touch of you, pawing at me like an animal. Get out of here! You're no use to me now."

"Brenda, you know I love you." He stumbled toward her with his arms open. "I'll get him for you and all that land."

"You aren't man enough. Get out of here. You make me sick looking at you."

She turned her back on him to finish packing. "Brenda, please," he pleaded, touching her on the arm. She jerked away then slapped him in the face. He caught her arm. "Don't."

"You sniveling, crawling…"

She swung at him with the other hand. Pierce caught it and pulled her up against him. "Don't say them things, don't," he begged, putting one hand over her mouth.

He just wanted to stop her from saying those things, those awful things about him and herself. She kept fighting him, kicking and twisting, clawing at his eyes. He just put his hand over her mouth and held her around the back of the head only to hold her still, to keep her from saying those things.

Brenda was so fragile, like a little flower. He held her up against his chest until she stopped fighting, and when he realized why she went limp, wished he could take it back, wished he hadn't held her so tight. Her head hang lifelessly on her tiny, broken, fragile, little neck.

He cried then, knowing he'd never again be able to make love to her, hearing her say all those sweet things to him. He laid her down, ever so gently, not wanting to break her anymore. She was his little flower, so delicate, and them things she was saying, they were lies. They had to be lies. She wasn't like that. She was sweet and beautiful, and she loved him. She'd told him that, over and over again, told him how much she loved him, but couldn't marry him till the man who'd soiled her had paid for what he'd done.

He looked up then, away from Brenda, tears streaming down his ugly cheeks, streaming from his eyes still dark from the last broken nose Gabe had given him. His nose still hurt when he sniffed, and he had to keep sniffing.

Tears weren't right for a man. A man oughtn't cry, not when he was going killing. He wiped away tears, sniffing, and checked his gun as he left down the back stairs. He'd wait in the alley for Gabe to come out of the land office. Then he'd kill him so his sweet little Brenda wouldn't have to worry no more about the man who'd soiled her.

Sniffing back tears and brushing them from his eyes, Pierce waited, twisting it around in his mind to blame Gabe for Brenda's death. Men started coming out, a couple at a time. He watched and let them go. He didn't care about cowhands on the way to the saloon. When the man he wanted did come out, he wasn't alone, but it didn't matter that Morey and Hedges walked to either side of him.

Pierce waited until they reached the middle of the street, sure Gabe wouldn't have a place to hide when he stepped out. With tears still streaming down his face, he started forward. Slowly and methodically, he pulled back the hammer and let it fall. Dust jumped up in front of Gabe's feet, Pierce's aim spoiled by the watering of his eyes.

Gabe jerked and spun. He shoved Morey out of the way, locating the source of the shot at the same time. "Pierce, I ain't armed," he shouted as Pierce slowly eased the hammer back again.

"Don't matter," Pierce said, letting the hammer drop. He grunted, both in satisfaction and disappointment when Gabe only turned slightly from the impact. Only a nick in the shoulder, but Pierce decided it was better that way, a piece at a time, making him suffer like he'd made poor fragile, little Brenda suffer.

"Gabe," Sammy screamed from the hotel door, already running out to him.

"Sammy, no," Gabe yelled as Pierce pivoted.

It was her fault, too, Pierce thought, lining the gun up on her. She was the one who burnt his house, the one he wanted for Brenda. In that instant he decided she should die, too, only his shot missed when that same stranger from inside the hotel hit her from behind, knocking her to the ground. He swung back to Gabe and panicked, trying to fire again before Gabe could cover the distance between them.

* * *

Sammy sobbed wildly, trying with all her might to crawl from under Tracks. Tracks held her tight, pressing her down with himself between her and Pierce. She cried Gabe's name out again when she heard another shot, and Gabe fell when his leg was knocked out from under him. Then she screamed his name, fighting to get free from Tracks' grip and weight, the sound of her scream drowned out to all but Tracks under a barrage of gunfire.

Sammy didn't hear the shots for her own scream. Shooting erupted once Gabe fell out of the line of fire, each man not realizing he wasn't the only one shooting. Morey fired from where Gabe had pushed him. The sheriff shot while running out from the land office. Even Hedges with his rusted shotgun took aim. Pierce danced like a puppet on a string, dead before he hit the ground, his misery over.

"Judas Priest," Hedges exclaimed in a stunned whisper.

"Gabe!" Sammy screamed, shoving again at Tracks to let her up.

Tracks could see it was finished and rolled away from her. Sammy scrambled to her feet, running, calling Gabe's name. He was trying his damnedest to get his newly injured leg back under him so he could run to her. She hit him so hard, her arms locking around his neck, that he fell again, dragging Sammy with him to land in the street, her sprawled over him.

They each talked, asking if the other was all right, making little sense until Gabe realized she wasn't hurt, just maybe a mite hysterical. Flat on his back, right there in the middle of the street, he went to holding her, patting her on the back.

"I'm all right now," he told her.

"He hurt you," she sobbed.

"Just a couple of scratches, honey. I'll be fine, honest," Gabe told her, stroking back the hair from her face.

"You're gonna be sick again," she wailed.

"No, I won't," he said, pushing her up so he could look at her. "Don't cry now. I won't get sick." He took a swipe at some of the tears, but with the dirt on his hands and the dust she'd picked when Tracks knocked her to the ground, all it did was make a mud streak.

"Didn't mean to be so rough with her." Tracks squatted beside them and handed Gabe a handkerchief. "But she was dead set on running out between you."

Gabe reached up for the handkerchief more concerned with cleaning the muddy streaks off her face than anything until he saw Tracks' face. Tracks apologized, but he grinned wider than Gabe had ever seen him grin. He looked at the faces of those either squatting or standing around them with more coming up every second. They were all grinning.

Well hell, Gabe thought. Maybe after all that just happened, them moon-calving over each in the middle of the street was silly. With a quick glance around, he could see everyone was watching them and not even paying attention to the dead man the sheriff was directing others to carry off.

Sammy pushed up on her elbows to pick at his shirt to see how bad the burn on his shoulder was. She was unaware of anyone but him.

"That's all right," he said quickly, grabbing her hand and starting up. "Let's get out of here."

She was surprised, but obedient, rose with him as those closest lifted him and stood him back on his feet. Then she saw the blood on his calf. She dropped back to her knees, snatching the handkerchief out of Gabe's hand as she went.

"Sammy, it's all right," Gabe said with embarrassment, trying to pull her back up. She squirmed loose, intent on tying the wound up. "Just leave it and let's go home."

"Just a minute," she said, finishing her knot.

"Tracks, where's her horse?" Gabe asked in a fluster.

"I'll go get it," he said, still grinning.

"Come on over to the hotel and get cleaned up while you're waiting," Hedges said, helping Gabe by urging Sammy to move. He had her by the elbow to guide her, but she pulled away, ducking under Gabe's arm and slipping her arm around his waist.

"Just lean on me," she said.

"Sammy, it ain't that bad," he protested, absolutely in vain while he hobbled to the hotel.

Hedges, with the biggest grin of all, nudged Morey and whispered, "Reckon no one will ever wonder again why them two got married."

Morey looked at the faces of the townspeople surrounding them. Most looked amazed at seeing Sammy act that way. Beside him, however, Mrs. Jones wore a smug smile.

"She hates blue flowers," she told Morey.

"What's that mean?" Hedges asked.

"Little Sam's never been one to gossip, so when she come in and ordered a blouse with blue flowers, I knew right away something was up. If telling it was important enough for her to do that, I knew those things were true, and that Little Sam was heart over heels in love with that young man." She shook her head with a soft chuckle. "Then the first time I met that boy he got all stiff and protective when I asked him about Little Sam."

She turned then to look Morey and Hedges over closely. "I knew as soon as you two that they were smitten with each other. Why else do you think I worked so hard to have that Brenda woman run out of town? High time Samantha learned she's a woman and not just Big Sam's daughter. Never knowed you to be a fool, either, Mr. Hedges, though I was some worried about Angel Taylor being a good husband for anyone."

The last let them know she'd had known all along who Gabe was and prompted Morey to ask, "And now, Mrs. Jones?"

"Well, they've got some struggles ahead of them, that's for certain, but I think they're going to be happy, and this town will be proud to have them."

THE END