Johanna Lindsey - Angel

Believed the truth? Imagine that. But Angel didn’t say it, didn’t say anything. He headed for the door again. If the damn room weren’t so big, he’d have been gone already.

He didn’t make it. They collided at the door, both rushing for it. He had to grab her to keep her from falling backward. He heard her gasp, then laugh, but she hadn’t looked up yet. She was actually a small woman. The top of her head barely reached his chin. But he didn’t need to see her face. The laugh told him, a sound so familiar to him, he could have heard it only yesterday.

It was her, and the memories came back with her, of gentle scoldings, and hugs and kisses, bedtime stories, and the tears when his da had died and she’d had to tell him, and love, so much love. He couldn’t breathe, that knot grew so big in his throat. His hands tightened on her arms. That made her look up, and it was a good thing he hadn’t let go of her, because she turned so white, she looked about ready to faint.

“Cawlin?” she said in a fearful shriek, and Angel knew she thought she was seeing a ghost He didn’t answer. Words wouldn’t get past that lump. It hadn’t occurred to her yet that she was seeing the son rather than his father, and he ought to leave before it did. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even let go of her. He wanted to draw her forward and crush her in his arms, but he was afraid to, afraid of frightening her, afraid he might never let go.

The things he was feeling were choking him. He suddenly wished Cassie were there to meddle and fix things in her indomitable way, because he’d never felt so helpless and out of his depth as he did in that moment. The banker was there instead, to pull them apart and lead Anna into the room to a chair. Angel still didn’t move. He ought to get the hell out of there, but his feet wouldn’t obey him, and his eyes wouldn’t leave his mother.

His image of her might have faded over twenty-one years, but it was back now because she’d changed so little in that time. And the things he could remember now, the little things he’d forgotten. She hadn’t lost him through carelessness. If anything, she’d been overprotective of him because he was all she’d had — then. But she had another family now, and he didn’t belong in it.

Fear finally got his feet moving, fear of rejection and the hurt that went with it. It was the one thing he’d never been able to handle very well, and he wasn’t going to start trying now.

He’d taken several long steps down the hall before he noticed the barricade at the front door in the form of his little sister. Katey was leaning back against it, her arms crossed, and shaking her head at him. She hadn’t gone to her room as told. She’d waited to ambush him, and that was exactly how he felt, ambushed.

She grinned at him now as she reminded him, “You didn’t answer me.”

“Answer you what?”

“If you’re my brother.”

“What if I am?”

“I know you are.”

“How?”

“Because I want you to be,” she said simply. “So I can’t let you leave. Mother would be upset if I did.”

“She’s already upset.”

“That’s nothing. She’ll scream the house down if you walk out this door.”

“She doesn’t scream.”

Katey grinned again. “According to Sean and Patrick, she does. They’re my brothers—your brothers. They wouldn’t forgive me, either, if I let you go before they got to meet you.”

“You really think you can stop me, honey?”

“Maybe not, but she can.”

She nodded behind him. He turned to see his mother at the door to the drawing room, holding onto the frame with one hand, the other pressed to her heart. She was still as pale as parchment. Her husband stood behind her, ready to catch her if she ever got around to fainting.

She looked fragile enough to break, but her voice was strong, almost accusing, when she said, “I’m believing in leprechauns as well as ghosts, but you’re not Cawlin’s ghost, are you?”

“No.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, God — An-gel?”

He didn’t so much as breathe. She didn’t wait for his answer. She came toward him, so slowly, her eyes devouring every inch of him through the tears that were now falling unchecked. Then her hands were on his face, his shoulders, his arms, making sure he was real, and finally slipping around his waist and locking there as her head dropped to his chest and she began to cry in earnest.

Angel was as much at a loss as when Cassie had done this to him, except this time he had to fight back the moisture gathering in his own eyes. He hesitated for unbearable moments before his arms came up to gather her in, probably too hard, but she didn’t complain.

He looked over her head at her husband. The man was pretty embarrassed at the moment, though not at his wife’s display of emotion.

“I’m sorry,” Winston began.

“Don’t apologize,” Angel said. “I don’t think I would have liked it if one of those other Angels had managed to convince you he was me.”

“Anna said you looked so much like your father when you were young that you were bound to be in his image when you grew up.”

“I don’t remember him,” Angel admitted.

Anna cried harder, hearing that. Winston smiled as he came up to put his hands on her shoulders and suggested, “Anna, let him go now.”

“Never!” she said fiercely and hugged Angel harder. “And I’m wanting to know what took you so long, laddie, to come home.”

“It’s a long story.”

She looked up at him to say, “Well, you’re not going anywhere, so you’ve got time to tell it.”

He guessed he did, though he’d never tell all of it. And he felt like laughing, now that the tension was draining out of him. Home. He finally had one. And a family. He gave in to the urge and laughed.

Catherine and Cassie returned home in time to get invited to Colt Thunder’s wedding at the end of the month. His sister, Jessie, had been planning it for several weeks. According to the gossip, which they got from their housekeeper, Louella, Colt had put up a fuss about having a big to-do. He just wanted it over with before the bride changed her mind. But his sister wouldn’t hear of anything less than one of the biggest shindigs Wyoming had ever seen. He was marrying a real live duchess, after all, so Jessie felt they had to do it up real fancy.

Catherine was impressed. Cassie didn’t mention that she’d already heard about Colt’s duchess from Angel. She was looking forward to meeting the lady who had managed to change Colt’s mind about white women. Angel was certainly going to be surprised when he heard about it, since, according to him, Colt hadn’t liked being “stuck” with the duchess, as he’d put it.

Cassie found out more about it when she and Marabelle ran into Jessie out on the range her second day back. The older woman was looking for a stray calf. Cassie was just enjoying being able to ride out with Marabelle again. They talked as they rode along together.

“We could have used your knack for fixing things last month,” Jessie said right off. She was about the only one who’d ever been generous in describing Cassie’s meddling. “You never seen two people so unhappy as Colt and Jocelyn were when they got here. They were in love with each other. I saw it immediately. But they hadn’t got around to telling each other, and it didn’t look like they were going to any time soon.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t think she’d marry a half-breed. She didn’t think he loved her. Shows how silly they both were acting, keeping their feelings to themselves.”

Cassie squirmed in the saddle. Wasn’t she guilty of doing the same thing? Of course, her case was a bit different. She knew Angel didn’t return her feelings, she didn’t just think it. Then why his indifference in St. Louis to the divorce? a small voice asked her. She squirmed even more. She’d have to give that some serious thought. If there was the slightest chance…

“You’ll never guess where’s he’s staying,” Jessie continued. “The old Callan ranch.”

That took Cassie by surprise. “I wouldn’t have thought he’d ever step foot on that place again after what happened there.”

“I know. But the duchess bought it, you see, to live in until the mansion she’s building up in the hills is completed. And once he asked her to marry him, she refused to let him out of her sight.”

“I’d heard it was the other way around, that he was worried she might change her mind about marrying him.”

“Actually, neither one of them is going to stop worrying about it until the deed is done. Don’t ask me how I talked them into holding off for a month so I could see my brother wed proper. It wasn’t easy.”

They stopped for a moment to watch Marabelle rolling about in a drift of snow left over from a storm that had hit a few weeks ago. The weather was particularly frigid that morning, but both women were quite used to it.

Cassie decided to ask the older woman for some advice while she had the opportunity. “Did you ever have a decision to make that you just couldn’t make up your mind what to do about, Jessie?”

“Sure, lots of times. That’s where Chase comes in handy. If I can’t come up with an answer, he always does.”

Cassie took a moment to tease, “He must come in handy for other things, too.”

“One or two.” Jessie grinned. “So what’s this difficult decision you’re facing?”

Jessie never did have trouble getting right to the point. Cassie tried it, replying, “I happened to get married while I was in Texas.”

Jessie laughed. “Well, I’ll be damned, this must be the season for it. How’d you manage to keep from bursting with that kind of news? When do we get to meet him?”