Johanna Lindsey - Angel

“You know what they say about love and hate. Half the time you can’t tell them apart.”

“I know, but Ma and R. J.?”

Both girls grinned. “Take care of yourself, Jenny, and your new family.”

“I will. And now that everything’s changed, you don’t have to leave.”

“Actually, with my mama showing up, I do. You can’t imagine how unpleasant it can get with her and my papa living in the same house.”

“But you’ve got a pocket full of miracles tonight. Why don’t you pull another one out?”

“I wish I could, but I just don’t have the nerve to meddle in my parents’ problems.”

“Well, you take care of yourself, and write me.”

“I will.”

Jenny ran to Clayton, who was waiting for her at the barn entrance. They left arm in arm. Cassie sighed, thinking about what she still had ahead of her. She looked around to find her mama just getting up from a bale of hay. Her papa was leaning against Marabelle’s transport cage, but he pushed himself away from it and came toward her now.

“It’s nice to know I’m not the only one with dirt in the closet,” Catherine remarked snidely as she started toward Cassie, too.

“Your mama has no sense of compassion, and you can tell her I said so,” Charles said.

Cassie did no such thing. All she wanted to do was escape to savor her triumph for a while before she had to placate her mama’s formidable temper. With that in mind, she didn’t wait for her parents, but hurried toward Angel.

“Thank you—” she began, but he cut her off.

“You’re not finished yet.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” he said, and moved to block the entrance just as her parents got there. “You called a cease-fire on your private war twenty years ago,” Angel told them. “Maybe you should’ve fought it out. Would you like to remain in here a little longer?”

“Hell, no,” Catherine replied.

“Yes,” Charles said, drawing a shocked gasp from his wife and a grin from Angel before he shoved Cassie out the door and shut it behind them.

Of course, Catherine immediately started shouting and banging on the door. Cassie stared at Angel in horror as he dropped the wooden bar into place, locking them in.

“You can’t do that,” she said.

“I just did.”

“But—”

“Shut up, Cassie. There’s something about being locked up that brings out the worst — and best — in folks. Let your parents experience it. It could do them a world of good.”

“Or they could kill each other.”

He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “Where’s that optimism that lets you meddle in everyone’s life?”

She didn’t get to answer. He kissed her, long and hard, and she was so bemused when he finished, she didn’t even notice that the shouting inside the barn had stopped.

“Go on up to the house, honey.” Angel pushed her in that direction. “You can let ‘em out in the morning.”

She went, but only because she expected him to follow. He didn’t. He rode out of her life that night.

Cassie didn’t leave Texas the next day as she’d planned. She’d spent the night in a parlor chair, where she’d fallen asleep waiting for Angel to join her. When she woke up with sunshine pouring in through the windows, she first went up to his room. There she found the bed unslept in, his saddlebags missing from the corner where they’d been stacked, and nothing else in the room to say he’d ever been there.

She rushed out to the stable next, but she’d found what she expected to by then. His horse was gone. He was gone. And Cassie sat down and cried.

When she got around to wiping her eyes dry, she decided she wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask Angel to stay even if she’d gotten the chance to. Rejection was a horrible thing, after all. She ought to consider herself lucky that she’d avoided it. So why didn’t that make her feel better?

She was dragging her feet by the time she reached the barn, though she didn’t particularly care what kind of temper her mother was going to be in. She just didn’t want to have to talk about Angel again, not now. And she got a short reprieve, but only because her parents were still sleeping — side by side on a bed of hay.

Cassie didn’t think anything of their proximity. She just left them there with the doors unlocked and went back to the house. But by the time she’d bathed and changed into fresh clothes, her mother was knocking on her door.

“That was a rotten thing to do to your mama, Cassie,” were Catherine’s first words.

“I know,” Cassie replied dispassionately, and dropped into her reading chair. “I should have locked me and Angel in the barn instead.”

“Oh, no. Your papa has the right idea. You’re not going to be left alone with that man again.”

“You don’t have to worry about it,” Cassie said in a quiet voice, raising her knees to rest her chin on. “He’s already left.”

“Good.”

“Why ‘good’? You don’t even know him, Mama.”

“Of course I do,” Catherine replied. “Who in Wyoming doesn’t know him?”

“You’re talking about his reputation. You don’t know what he’s really like.”

“And I don’t intend to find out. Your papa told me what happened. I just—”

Cassie looked up in surprise. “You and Papa talked to each other?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Catherine replied sternly. “I just have one question for you. Why on earth did you tell those people he was your fianc�?”

“Because he was about to tell them who he really was, and tempers were too high at the time. I was afraid they’d get the wrong idea, and think I hired him to fight them.”

“Which is what you should have done. That’s what he does, after all.”

“Mama, I started the whole thing,” Cassie said in exasperation.

“And from what I heard last night, you patched it up nicely. Well, never mind about why you ended up getting married. It’ll be an easy enough thing to dissolve, and we’ll take care of that before we leave Texas.”

“No.”

Catherine came to stand before her daughter. “What do you mean no?”

Cassie dropped her head back on her knees. “I promised Angel I’d wait until I got back home — in case there’s a baby to consider.”

“A — oh, God, why do I suddenly feel like that poor woman from last night — what was her name? Dotty?”

“Dorothy Catlin,” Cassie said. “But it’s only a possibility, Mama.”

“Only?” Catherine bent over until their heads were touching and she could get her arms around Cassie, knees and all. “My poor baby. You’re so brave not to cry about it. And why didn’t your papa mention that part — or doesn’t he know that the man raped you?”

Cassie pushed herself back to say indignantly, “Mama, he did no such thing.”

“He didn’t?” Catherine said in confusion, then quickly changed her tone. “Well, why the hell not?”

“Obviously because he didn’t have to.”

Catherine digested that, as well as the dryness it was uttered in, and admonished, “Cassandra Stuart, don’t you dare sit there and tell me—”

“Mama, it’s too late for a lecture, don’t you think?”

Catherine was forced to concede that point. “I suppose it is.” Then she sighed. “Oh, baby, what possessed you to make such a fool mistake?”

“He wanted me,” Cassie said simply. “And that’s all that mattered to me at the time — well, there was the little fact that I wanted him, too.”

“I don’t think I want to hear this.”

“I’d rather not talk about it myself,” Cassie said dismally. “I can’t even figure out why he wanted me.”

Catherine took exception to that. “Nonsense. You’re a beautiful girl. Why wouldn’t he want you?”

Cassie waved a dismissive hand. “You’re my mama. Of course you’d say that. But I’m well aware that men don’t find me very attractive.”

Catherine grinned. “And that bothers you?”

“It’s not amusing, Mama.”

“Actually, it is, because when I was your age I thought the exact same thing. I didn’t have a single suitor, even though there was no end of eligible young men in my town. Then suddenly I had, not one, but three suitors who were so serious in their efforts to win me that it became embarrassing. I couldn’t go anywhere that one or two of them didn’t show up, sometimes all three.

“There was a lot of bickering and jealousy, even though these men happened to be lifelong friends. It finally escalated into an actual fight, with one of them taking on the other two — at the same time. He just barely won, but I thought it was so romantic, I accepted his proposal that very day. That was your papa.”

“That’s hardly the same thing as my case, Mama. You happen to be a beautiful woman.”

“And you still think you aren’t? Well, let me tell you a secret, baby, a confession your papa once made to me. He said that I grew on him, that one day he noticed that I was prettier than he’d thought. You see, we’d known each other for years, and he’d never paid any attention to me before then. He also said that every time he saw me after that, I kept getting prettier, until finally he thought I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.”

“Are you pulling my leg, Mama?”

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m trying to tell you that your looks are just unusual and take a bit of time getting used to, same as mine used to be. As I got older, my features filled out and sort of settled into more traditional lines. I expect yours will, too, and it won’t be much longer before men find you lovely when they first meet you, not weeks later.”

Cassie couldn’t help laughing. “That’s a nice story, Mama, but I’m not buying.”

“No? Well, I reckon that gunfighter was around you long enough for you to start looking mighty pretty to him. You can’t figure out why he wanted you? My guess is the man couldn’t help himself.”