“Jim here can show you where it is, but he can’t back you up. They say specifically, you’re to go in alone.”

“Didn’t figure it otherwise. Do you have any idea who these men are? Enemies of yours, maybe?”

“Mine, no — but possibly yours.”

“What makes you think so?”

She shrugged, her look uncertain. “It could be just a wild guess, but Cassie saw someone in town today that shook her up pretty bad. She claimed he was the man you killed while down in Texas.”

“I killed more’n one down there.”

“That Cassie knew about?”

“No. That would be Rafferty Slater,” he said. “But dead men don’t walk.”

“That’s what I said,” Catherine replied. “But she insisted this man looked exactly like the one you killed. The only reasonable explanation is that they’re brothers, maybe even twins.”

“And a brother might be after a little revenge,” Angel concluded as he shrugged on his slicker. “Thanks for the warning.”


Cassie’s teeth were chattering. The cabin hadn’t been made very well. The cold had been seeping in along the floorboards all night. An icy wind was coming in through one larger crack in the wall near her back. The fire was still going, but Gaylen had tied her up in a corner on the opposite side of the room, so its warmth wasn’t reaching her.

She could have managed to scoot across the floor to get nearer to the fire if she’d tried to. But Gaylen was hogging it, and she couldn’t bear to get close to a man who was going to shoot her while she was bound tight and helpless to prevent it, so she stayed where she was. She supposed he wouldn’t have minded waking up to find her frozen stiff. It would save him a bullet.

Then Harry had returned and had done a lot of staring at her before he settled back down— again in front of the fire. He even added another log to it, but the heat still didn’t reach Cassie. And after the way the little man had looked at her, like he wouldn’t mind warming her himself, she definitely wasn’t getting near either one of those two, no matter if she did freeze.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, though that hadn’t been her intention. What woke her, she wasn’t sure. Possibly her chattering teeth. But it was still night. The cabin didn’t boast a single window, but the cracks in the walls would have shown up sunlight if it was out there.

Her hands were completely numb now. She’d spent a good hour earlier trying to stretch the cloth to slip at least one hand out, but Gaylen had tied her so tight, she’d have to be cut loose. She doubted he’d bother to do that before he shot her.

She’d stared at the door for a long time, debating whether to try to leave. No more than a loop of rope hooked to the wall was locking it from intruders. She might have been able to work that loose with her teeth, and her chin could have taken care of the latch. But the door was a lot closer to the fire and the two men than to her, and she was afraid the cold that would blast in when she opened it would wake them both, if not immediately, then soon, because she doubted she’d be able to close the door behind her with the wind pushing at it. Besides, she wouldn’t get very far, rolling and scooting down the foothills. And Gaylen might just go ahead and kill her now if she put him to the trouble of having to go after her. That wouldn’t help Angel when he arrived. And it certainly wouldn’t help her.

She tried moving her legs, and found out that she had aches all over from her cramped position. Her head fell.back against the wall, causing her to groan. She couldn’t remember ever having been so cold, and miserable — and afraid. She didn’t want to die. She wondered, if she told Gaylen that, whether he might reconsider. She almost laughed. He was as conscienceless as she’d once thought Angel was. But Angel had a deeply ingrained sense of justice. Gaylen’s justice was cold-blooded murder.

“Cassie?”

It was the wind, making her hear things she wanted to hear. That couldn’t have been…

“Cassie, wake up, damn it.”

She leaned forward to turn and stare wide-eyed at the wall. “I am awake,” she whispered excitedly. “Angel?”

“Can you open the door?”

“I’ll try, but it may take me a while. They’ve got me tied up.”

“Never mind. I’ll break the door in.”

“No,” she hissed. “If that doesn’t work, you’ll just wake them. Let me try first.”

“All right, but hurry.”

Hurry, when she ached so much she could barely move? Actually, with rescue imminent, her cramped muscles didn’t seem to hurt nearly as bad as they had earlier.

Since there was no furniture to block her way, lying down and rolling got her across the room quicker than scooting would have. Getting up on her knees when she reached the door wasn’t as easy, though, but she managed it after several tries.

Her real difficulty came from the rope lock. It hadn’t looked all that secure from across the room, but it was stretched tighter than she’d figured, and hooked over a curved nail. She was able to grasp one side of the loop with her teeth, but no matter how hard she bit down and pulled, the end wouldn’t slip over the hook. And trying to stand up to turn and use her hands would be a waste of time. Her fingers were too numb.

She finally had to put her mouth to one of the cracks in the door. “Angel?”

He was right there waiting. “What?”

“I’m having trouble with this rope lock. Maybe if you open the door and push against it some, it will stretch the rope enough for me to work it loose.”

His answer was to do just that. Cassie watched the rope carefully, ready to tell him to stop if she saw it stretch even a little. She should have watched the opposite edge of the doorframe instead. The pressure Angel was applying popped the rusted hinges loose and the door suddenly swung in on her from that side.

Her cry of surprise came too quickly to silence it. “What the—?” was heard almost immediately behind her, and right after it, “Please do,” was heard from in front of her.

Cassie wiggled her way out from under the door, which was now hanging from that damn loop of rope, to see Angel holding his gun on Gaylen and Harry, and itching for any excuse to pull the trigger.

“You must be Angel,” Gaylen said.

“The Angel of Death,” Angel replied for the first time in his life.

“So you came without the money?” Even now, faced with an abrupt end to his scheme, Gaylen wore an expression that seemed almost indifferent. Beside him, Harry looked about to faint. “I hadn’t figured on that.”

“The money is outside. Her mama happened to have it on hand. You want it, draw for it.”

“That’d be real sportin‘ of you, ’cept I heard you never lose.”

Angel just smiled. Cassie got mad, listening to them. She was cold, hungry, sore, and the door had hit her on the head when it fell sideways.

“If you aren’t going to shoot them, would you mind doing something else with them so we can leave?”

Her voice was about as frosty as it could get. It didn’t draw his gaze, just a nod, before he walked forward and motioned Gaylen to turn around. As soon as he did, Angel’s gun butt cracked against his skull.

Harry stared bug-eyed as his friend went down and Angel turned to him. “Couldn‘ you just tie me up instead?”

“I could shoot you instead.”

Harry turned quickly to receive his blow. Cassie made a sound of disgust. Harry had had a good point.

“Why couldn’t you have tied them up?” she wanted to know.

Angel glanced at her for the first time. “Because that’s easier to do if they’re like this. I’ll do it now.”

“Do you have a knife to cut me loose with first?”

He pulled one out of his boot. Her mama would hate to know that they shared that habit in common.

“You all right?” he finally got around to asking as he sliced through her bonds.

“Couldn’t be better,” she snapped.

She wasn’t sure why she was so angry with him. Possibly because she’d seen how much he’d wanted to kill Gaylen — or maybe because she’d like the comfort of a hug and knew she wouldn’t be getting one.

“Actually, I’m amazed you let him live,” she said. “He’ll probably only get a few years in prison for what he tried to do here. You aren’t worried he’ll come after you again when he gets out?”

“I never heard of Rafferty, but Gaylen Slater is another matter. That was him, wasn’t it?”

“So he said.”

“Well, he’s wanted in Colorado and New Mexico for murder. One of those juries ought to end up hanging him.”

“I thought it didn’t bother you to kill someone who you knew was headed for the hangman.”

“With you watching, it bothers me,” he said, then asked, “How did they get to you, anyway?”

“I came to town last night to see you.”

“Alone? And without your gun?” he said in a tone that implied she couldn’t have done anything more stupid. “What did you want to see me about?”

“I don’t think I’ll tell you now,” she said stiffly.

“You wanted to warn me about Slater?”

“What if I did?”

“I didn’t think you cared.”

“I care.”

“How much?”

“Too damn much,” she replied sharply, in contrast to his soft tone, only to spoil that confession by adding, “But then, we aren’t enemies, so I’d like to think that makes us friends. And I care about all my friends.”

He gave her a dark look that said he wasn’t going to take much more of her sass. Then he left her to attend to the binding of the two unconscious men. She stayed where she was, rubbing the circulation back into her hands before she sought out her boots.

She moved stiffly, her muscles still sore. And she started getting annoyed at herself. She should have been nothing but relieved. She was safe. Angel was safe. She should have been thanking him instead of snapping at him — but she still hadn’t had that hug.