Angel and the Texan From County Cork (The Brides of Texas Code Series Book 3) (6 page)

“Who's there?” she called out. She reasoned her new husband had no need to knock. He'd simply open the door and come in.

“It's Jamey,” he shouted. “Open up and give me a hand.”

She did as he asked and found herself face to face with a cedar tree. Shoving the pistol into her skirt pocket, she grabbed a handful of branches and pulled as he pushed to bring the tree inside.

After she'd closed the door against the chilled outside air, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Why on earth would you cut down a tree?”

“It’s Christmas Eve.” He stepped back onto the porch and brought in a familiar box. Handing it to her, he smiled. “I thought ye'd like to decorate.”

“I haven't—I mean, I don't—it's just that—”

He’d stunned her with the tree and his offer to celebrate Christmas. Silently, she set the box onto the table. Truth be known, this was her favorite time of year but, due to the circumstances, she hadn’t celebrated in a couple of years. Her last Christmas had been shared with Cissie and her family. She lifted the top of the box to reveal a few of the items she’d managed to pack from her previous life.

Picking up a small silver ornament in the shape of a pinecone, she thought back to the last time she'd seen it. Her fingers traced the delicate contours of the design.

In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “These ornaments belonged to my mother and grandmother. They brought them on the ship from the old country. This little pinecone was Mama's first one. I didn't know they survived the trip across the Red River. Where did you find them?”

“They were in a trunk out in the barn behind hay bales and farm equipment. Ye didn't know they were there?”

“No. I'm sure Will mentioned he put the trunk there. But it's been over a year, so I guess I just forgot.”

She looked at a couple of other treasures, replaced them and pushed the box away from the edge of the table. Here was yet another example of her gullibility and naivety. She trusted too easily.

“Did you happen to notice what else was in the trunk?” She hated to ask, afraid to hear what he’d say, but needed to know.

“Bedroom and kitchen linens, ladies things and these.”

“Is there any jewelry or silver service?”

“I didn’t go diggin’ too deep, though now that I think on it, the contents were none too organized.” He took a seat across from her. “What aren’t ye tellin’ me, Angel?”

Fingers interlaced, she tightened her grip and looked toward the window. She was back to the trust issue and she had a decision to make. What she was thinking could destroy a man’s memory.

Meeting Jamey’s intense gaze, she said, “Will didn’t tell me he brought the trunk here. I thought it was still stored at the hotel. In the beginning, he told me either he forgot to pick it up or the wagon was full and he’d get my belongings the next trip into town. He would get so agitated, I finally stopped asking.”

“What happened?”

“Helmut and I came with a wagon train from Ohio to Texas to join Helmut’s family in Boerne. It had rained heavily for a few days and the river was over its banks. Even though we waited for the level to go down, the current was too strong and our wagon overturned. While trying to save us, Helmut had a heart attack and died.

The wagon master told me he’d store my belongings at the hotel once we made it to Denison.”

“Helmut was your . . .”

“He was my first husband.”

“I see.” He rested his hand on top hers.

“I had very little money and could only afford to stay at the hotel a few days. I found a job at the café where I met Calliope Thorne. She gave me a place to stay.”

“That’s when you met Will.”

“Yes, after a time.” Uncomfortable with the touching, she pulled her hands from his. She also decided she’d shared all the dirty laundry she cared to for today.

She needed time to figure out what Will's motives were for lying to her apparently about everything during their time together. Had he ever been honest?

And what was behind Jamey O'Donnell's kindnesses? Was he purposely deceiving her, too, for his own motives?

She needed answers to these questions in order to get her life on track and to achieve her independence. From now on, she promised herself and Cissie, she would be in control. No one, including Mr. O'Donnell, would take advantage of her again.

Forcing a smile, she stood. “Now, where are we going to put this tree?”

* * *

Jamey had thought it odd she wouldn't remember the trunk being stored in the barn. After all, the contents meant so much to her. But hearing Will had lied to her made him wonder even more what had happened with his friend and why he’d waited so long to reach out.

But Angel was right to put the discussion aside. The whole point of the tree had been to put a smile on her face and hopefully improve her mood. She'd been sad and quiet since they’d left the bank. The smile he received, though, looked more like the masks he’d seen at Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

“What about in the front corner by the window?” He dragged the tree over so she could see what it would look like. “I can anchor it to the wall here. What do you think?”

“That's fine.” Her answer was short, but its tone had a tinge of approval.

“Good.”

Half an hour later, Jamey had the tree firmly planted in a bucket full of ashes from the fireplace. Twine looped around its midpoint anchored it to the wall. Snow fell from the limbs onto the floor as he shook the trunk to check for stability. When he was satisfied the tree was stable, he stepped back to take a look.

“There.”

Angel appeared beside him with the pinecone ornament. Holding it by the hook, she hung it onto a limb, front and center. Obviously pleased with the placement, she strategically hung the remaining ornaments and decorations and admired her handiwork.

“Oh, that's lovely.”

“Ye've done a fine job,” he agreed. His stomach grumbled and he remembered they hadn't eaten since breakfast. “Say, did ye open the brown paper-wrapped package I brought in?”

“No, should I have?”

“Not necessarily, but it's dark out and a bit past supper time.” He snipped the twine holding the paper around several boxes. “I stopped by the hotel kitchen and purchased enough food to last us a few days.”

“This smells heavenly,” she said, as she sniffed the mouth-watering aromas wafting from the packages. “How about I put the contents into the warming oven while we put the rest of the things away? Then we'll eat.”

“That's all the convincing I need.” Smiling, he set about restoring order to the cabin. He didn't have to win the war today. Small accomplishments would do fine.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Angel dried her hands on a cup towel and put away the last dish. She found it interesting she was tired but not yet ready to go to bed. Jamey sat at the table sharpening the carving knife, so she poured them both a cup of coffee and joined him.

She wished he'd stop being nice. His being helpful made it hard for her to maintain the tough shell she needed to survive on her own. Her grandmother's stern raising kept her from being rude. 

“Thank you for doing that,” she said, breaking the silence that continued after supper. “I hadn't realized how dull it was. Guess I've gotten used to it.”

He chuckled. “It did sort of chew the ham into chunks, didn't it?” He tested the edge's sharpness with his thumb. Apparently satisfied with the results, he wiped the oil from the knife and dried the sharpening stone, placing it back into his saddle bag. Rejoining her at the table, he sipped at the hot coffee and asked, “I always thought Will preferred to be off by himself. How'd ye end up married to him?”

“That's none of your business.”

He shook his head. “I'm not meanin' to pry, Colleen. Just makin' conversation.”

But it felt like prying no matter what he said. The only way to stop talking about it, though, was to get everything out in the open and be done. He deserved to know what he’d gotten himself into.

“My life since crossing the Red River has not been what I'd hoped. When I was forced out of the hotel, I had no place to go. That’s when I met Calliope. She owned the café that fed the drovers and railroaders and gave me a job and, as I said, a place to stay.”

“That was kind of her. She sounds like a good woman.”

“She is and I treasure our friendship, but Calliope isn’t welcome in certain town circles and her reputation transcended to me.”

“Ah.” Jamey raised his chin in understanding. “Miss Thorne is a lady of the evening.”

“Yes, but not only that, she’s a smart business woman, too. She owns the business and the café.”

“Angel, you don’t have to sell me. She helped you and that’s enough.”

“Oh . . . well, it wasn’t long before Calliope introduced me to Will.” She looked him squarely in the eye. “I guess that brings you up to date. I’m afraid, Jamey O’Donnell, you’ve stepped into a sticky situation but you’re at least prepared if Mrs. Krutchmeyer goes through with her threat to expose my reputation to you.”

“I wondered what she was sayin’ to ye when I walked up beside ye.”

She wrapped her hands around the cup and examined the contents. “I’ll understand if you want me to leave.”

He stood and moved his cup to the drain board. “There’ll be no talk of leavin’, Colleen. I don’t put much stock in other’s opinions.”

Then he did something that took her by surprise. He came to her, pulled her out of her chair and into his arms. He simply held her in a tight embrace. She was hard pressed to remember the last time she’d been held like this. Her arms settled around his waist and she drew comfort and strength from his warmth.

Easing his hold on her, he looked down at her and asked, “Do you need anything before I turn in?”

More of this. Afraid to say the words out loud, she answered, “No, I don't.”

“I'll be seein' ye in the mornin', then.” He kissed her forehead then sat, pulled off his boots and laid down on his make-shift bed, giving her his back. “I'll keep the fire goin’, but leave yer door open so the room will stay warm.”

“I will, good night.” He was snoring almost before the words were out of her mouth. It seemed the past days’ happenings were taking a toll on him, too. Hopefully tomorrow would be less eventful because she needed to think about making a plan for the future. Her future. Her new husband had his own plan and a life that probably wouldn’t include her. And, for some reason she couldn’t understand, the thought was devastating.

Too tired to change into her nightdress, she slid beneath the covers and closed her eyes. A couple of ideas for her future survival sparked in her imagination. She couldn’t muster enough gumption to get her wooden box that held her stationery and pen. She’d just have to write them down tomorrow.   

Sometime before daylight Angel awoke to a great howling wind and sleet hitting the bedroom window. She wanted to burrow deeper under the blankets, but the slap of the barn door startled her. When she looked out the window, huge clouds of snow swirled over the already covered ground. The sight was beautiful but held deadly potential. As she strained to see anything through the flurries, the blustery weather blew open the front door.

Still dressed in her clothes from last night, she started for the main room and found Jamey standing in the entrance.

He shouted to be heard over the roar, “Angel! Get dressed, I need yer help.”

* * *

Jamey hated to ask her, but he couldn’t do alone what needed to be done. The stock had to be taken care of. He’d looked in on them before dinner and thought they’d be warm enough but, when the wind woke him up, he realized the temperature had dropped significantly.

He warmed his hands by the fire and called out to her, “Put on as many layers as ye can. I can't have ye freezin' to death.”

“How cold do you think it is out there?” Angel came into the room wearing a woolen shirt, the boots she’d worn the day they’d first met and a pair of men’s pants. After she finished cinching them in at the waist, she pulled on a knitted cap and handed one to him. “Here, this will help keep your head warm.”

“The thermometer on the barn wall read nine degrees.” He held up the cap. “This’ll feel good, thanks.”

“It wasn't this cold last winter. You’ll have to tell me what you need me to do.”

“Makin’ sure there’s plenty of feed and water is important, but we also have to plug some of the gaps in the planks to keep the barn as warm as possible. I have an idea that may work.” He walked to the door, pulled on his gloves and rested his hand on the latch. “Are ye ready?”

Putting on Will's coat, she smiled. “Might as well be.”

“Good, let's go.”

Out in the barn, she did as he asked, working as hard as he did. Thankfully the well was deep enough that the water hadn’t frozen and he’d been able to bucket up enough for the stock. He’d replenished the feed with extra protein yesterday so that would help keep the animals warm. When he finished with the makeshift roost for the chickens, he found her petting and talking softly to Rusty.