Angel Gone Bad (7 page)

“F
ine friends!” Angel muttered as she stomped down the boardwalk away from the Red River Saloon.

Rune walked beside her, keeping an eye out for trouble. He didn't want to get involved either. On top of that, he wouldn't trust Baines to plan an outhouse heist much less a train robbery. A strike on government gold would bring the feds down on their heads like a house afire. Wrong-headed didn't even begin to describe it.

Yet he needed his outlaw credentials with the Verdigris Gang to get close to the Badger Gang. He'd been accepted, so he wanted to keep up the illusion that he was one of them. No matter how much it went against the grain, he must stay focused on his bigger goal and somehow not get drawn in too deep. Even more important, he had to keep Angel safe, not easy with Baines, Lucky, and the other guys sniffing after her like hound dogs.

“Maybe it'll all go away like a bad dream. I don't even have time for it. I'm scheduled to read from
Sweet Rescue
over in Paris in two days.”

Reality struck Rune like a cold shower. He'd drawn Angel into his web of deceit, but she didn't understand the true extent of the danger. If she knew, she'd probably run for the hills, figuring that loss of job and reputation were the lesser of evils. He couldn't tell her the truth. She was safer not knowing anyway. But it meant he had to bend her to his will, and he was growing more reluctant to do that all the time. If so much hadn't been on the line, he'd have cut her loose.

“Let's go get a cup of coffee at Mama Lou's,” he said, hoping to ease her out of her doldrums.

“I'm hot. I'm tired. I want out of these clothes.”

Rune chuckled at the thought. “I'd like you out of those clothes, too.”

“Stop it! I'm in no mood for your lecherous ideas.”

“You sure?” He put a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed.

She shrugged, tossing him a gaze full of daggers. “Keep your hands to yourself. I'm about ready to draw my derringer on the next person who looks at me sideways.”

Rune tried to repress his laughter, but couldn't. Maybe he needed relief from the tension riding him, but the vision of her fumbling in her reticule to get at the derringer and then pointing it at some liquored-up cowboy who couldn't see straight was funny as hell. “You might as well use a pea-shooter as your little one-shot against a six-shooter.”

She stopped, spun toward him, and poked him in the chest with the tip of her finger. “Then why did you give it to me if it's no good?”

“At a poker table where everybody is close and the derringer is within easy reach, it works fine.”

She hefted her reticule in her hands. “It'll work as a club, too.”

He laughed harder. “I guess if you gave your bag a good swing and hit somebody in the head, it'd do some damage.”

“Then why are you laughing?” She sounded more irritated than ever, especially after a guy stumbled into her, begged pardon, and went on his way.

Rune tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “I'm tired, too. Let's go get some coffee and talk this out.”

“Only if it includes blackberry cobbler.”

“I think we can manage it.”

A few steps later, Angel stopped and shook her head. “The Black Widow can't do that. She has a reputation to maintain. Liquor and cards, not coffee and cobbler.”

“You're right.” He turned and looked across the street. “Let's go to Manny's. If I'm paying and including him, he'll get the food for us.”

“And he'll use any excuse to ogle Mama Lou.”

Rune chuckled in agreement as they quickly crossed the busy street. When they reached the stable, Manny was standing out front as if waiting for them.

“See you're still alive.” Manny spat a stream of tobacco to one side. “Pretty quick to leave the tables.”

“Angel got a hankering for blackberry cobbler and coffee.” Rune pulled some coins out of a pocket. “If you'll go to Mama Lou's and get us all some, we'll watch the horses.”

Manny looked up at the sky, down at the ground, and then back at them. He winked. “Guess that's a fair enough trade.” He grabbed the coins and headed across the street.

“That was easy,” Angel said, chuckling. “Come on inside where nobody can see us. I've got to get this hat off.”

Rune followed her over to some bales of hay that Manny used for chairs. Overhead a lantern hung from a beam, casting a soft, yellow glow over the area. He took advantage of the opportunity to watch her pull off her hat and shawl and then toss them down on the hay. She followed those with her gloves. Finally, she massaged her scalp, moaning in relief. She looked good, too good for his peace of mind.

She rubbed her bare arms, then sat down and looked up at him. “Remember what I wore in Indian Territory?”

“Unforgettable.”

“I've never truly gotten used to wearing so many clothes again.” She plucked at her skirt. “No underwear. Just that white cotton blouse and that full red cotton skirt. Barefoot when I didn't want to wear shoes.”

He hadn't known about the lack of underclothes. Now that he did, he cursed himself as a fool for not taking advantage of what she'd offered him. Heat coursed through him, setting his nerves on edge. He wanted her with an intensity that pushed everything else from his mind except the hardness of his cock.

“I loved your ranch.” She sighed, pulling the pins from her hair so that it cascaded in a russet wave around her. “I'm truly sorry it's gone.”

He abruptly turned his back on her so she couldn't see the effect she had on him. He looked out the front door, hurting in a way he hadn't known was possible. She owed him. Sooner or later she was going to pay in the way he needed most.

“I'm thinking there may be a way for this situation to work for all of us.”

Surprised at her words, he glanced back. She'd unbuttoned the top of her vest and was fanning her hot skin with her hand. He could see the deep V of her breasts, soft and round and moist under the light.

“Not that I'd go so far as to actually rob a train, but I suppose I could help gather information. That is, if I got help in return.”

He wanted to get the damn clothes off her, stroke her satiny skin, taste her moist flesh, plunge into her depths, and hear her cry out in ecstasy. Then he'd start all over again. Make a night of it.

“A friend of mine's fiancé is missing. Tate is a Deputy U.S. Marshal out of the Paris office. She's afraid he's been kidnapped, injured, or maybe even killed. I'm hoping now that I can get a lead on him through the V Gang by hanging out with outlaws. He might still be in Texas, but if he was kidnapped for some reason, they'd take him to Indian Territory, wouldn't they?”

Rune watched her twine her hair around one hand and lift it up on the top of her head so she could fan the back of her neck with the other hand. The movement pushed up her breasts so he could see the rosy pink edges of her nipples. If he'd been hot and hard before, now he felt like he'd jammed a log between his legs.

“Wouldn't they?” Angel dropped her hair and her arms, leaning forward. “Rune! Are you listening to me?”

He crashed back to earth, struggling to recall her words. “Let's see. A deputy's gone missing and you want to find him.”

“Tate Thornton. Nice guy. Verity is frantic with worry.”

“She ought to be. How long's he been gone?”

“Three months.”

“Odds aren't good.”

“I know. But even if he's not alive, I need to find out what happened to him. He was after the Badger Gang.”

Rune opened his eyes wide in surprise. “Did you say—”

“That's right. Everybody's heard of that Badger Gang. But nobody's been able to catch them. Tate went after them.”

“He could still be alive. If he's running with them, he can't just walk away.” Rune felt like a ripe plum had fallen into his hands. This gave him another trail to follow to the Badgers.

“I hope that's true.” She held out her hand to shake. “So, do we have a bargain? I'll help you with the V Gang if you'll help me find Tate.”

“We already have a deal.”

“Well, I don't much like that one.” She shrugged, still holding out her hand. “This one's better.”

“Tell you what, I'll agree to this one, but only if you agree to abide by the first one, too.” Rune had to wonder if what she'd told him was the truth, or if like him, she had other, secret motives. Either way, she'd be easier to handle if she thought she was getting something out of the bargain. Not that his body gave a damn. It wanted what it wanted. Without some relief, he'd be a long time getting cooled down.

“Oh, all right. At least I'll get help finding Tate.” She smiled, tilting up the corners of her pretty pink lips.

Maybe he could persuade her to take a cool bath on a hot night. That'd get the clothes off her. But he didn't think he could wait that long. He needed her now, in the worst way. He started toward her, ready to begin with a handshake and then continue up her body.

“Come and get it!” Manny called as he stepped inside. “Mama Lou packed your order herself.”

Rune jerked around, caught by surprise. He cursed his lack of attention. It could get a man killed in the Bend. Besides that, food was the last thing he wanted right now.

T
wo days later, Angel sat across from Rune in a train headed east for Paris. Early morning sunlight slanted in through the open windows, carrying the scent of wild flowers and buffalo grass. She listened to the click and clack of wheels on rails as she relaxed in plush comfort, so much more pleasant than buggy or horseback.

With nobody the wiser, Manny had driven them to the Whites-borough depot, arriving by cock's crow. That evening, Rune would rent a buggy and drive them back to the Bend.

Manny couldn't have been more helpful, especially since he'd never met her until now. Angel would thank Lady for this important contact when she next saw her. In the meantime, since he wouldn't take payment from her, she was trying to think of the perfect gift for Manny as a thank you for all his help.

They'd already passed through Sherman, Bonham, Dodd City, and were coming up on Honey Grove, reportedly named by Davy Crockett for the swarms of bees with their highly prized honey he found when he had camped there.

She'd made several attempts at conversation with Rune, but each had died on the vine. Maybe he was feeling as uneasy as she was about moving onward, especially after the peace and safety of Manny's. Yet she had the impression that Rune had something on his mind that she didn't know about.

They had dressed for their parts today. She was clothed as Angelica. She wore the blond wig, emerald green hat, and green gown that she'd had cleaned in the Bend. He was clothed as a gunslinger. He wore a Stetson pulled low, an azure brocade vest, slate-gray trousers and shirt, and a Colt .45 in a holster low on his right hip. She'd caught several passengers watching them, but she'd pretended not to notice as she flipped through
Sweet Rescue,
selecting passages to read to the Paris Book Club.

Rune leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Now, have you got the hand sign right?”

“We practiced, remember?”

“Let me see it again.”

She rolled her eyes, but quickly flashed the secret Anti–Horse Thief Association hand sign he had taught her. “Okay?”

“It'll do.”

“Do you really think the U.S. Marshal's office in Paris will give me information about Tate on the weight of an AHTA hand sign?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that lawmen work with AHTA members all the time?”

“That's what you said, but I'm not sure about posing as an AHTA widow.”

“If you know the secret hand sign, they'll help you.”

“I still don't much like it.”

“You don't have to like it. You just have to do it.”

“I'll try for Verity's sake, but I don't want trouble.”

“Nobody does. If you follow my plan, you'll be okay.” Rune glanced out the window. “We're coming into Paris. Get ready.”

Angel straightened her skirt, but she stayed focused on Rune. He obviously had learned a lot in prison. Somehow outlaws must have figured out the secret hand sign of the prestigious AHTA. She'd never thought about it before, but maybe prison was like college for outlaws.

She might have set Rune on his current path, but he'd joined the V Gang on his own. He couldn't blame that on her. She sighed. Unfortunately, being an outlaw didn't make him any less desirable. That dangerous edge simmering just below the surface and threatening to break free made him almost irresistible. Yet she wouldn't let his many charms distract her from her goal, or cause her to overlook his transformation from good guy to bad guy.

Now she had one more role to play. She had despaired about her dull existence in Bonham, but the safety and security of that life was looking better all the time. If she had any chance of going back to it, she had to be as good an actress as any on stage.

When the train pulled into the Texas and Pacific Railway station, Angel glanced out the window. Paris was the county seat with an imposing courthouse, two hotels, a schoolhouse, and other buildings. After the fire of 1877 destroyed ten acres of the downtown district, residents lost all faith in clapboard and rebuilt in brick. Thousands lived in Paris, but most of the settlers in the area made their homes on small cotton farms in the rich black gumbo land of the Red River Valley. Many of them appeared to be in town, bringing farm produce, doing business, and shopping in stores.

At a nod from Rune, she waited for the other passengers to debark. She understood he wanted to call as little attention to them as possible. She agreed. As she slipped
Sweet Rescue
into her reticule, she took a deep breath. They had timed their arrival so she could go first to the marshal's office, and then to Harris Mercantile where she would read to the Paris Book Club. So far all was on schedule with no trouble. She only hoped it would stay that way.

She stood up, pulling her black shawl around her shoulders to dull the appearance of her bright gown and make her look more like a widow. She could feel the comforting weight of the derringer and the Spider Grandmother deck in her reticule.

“You'll be in my sight most of the time.” Rune rose to his feet, ducking his head to avoid the ceiling. “If you run into trouble, I'll be there.”

She tried to make light of the situation. “What have I to fear? I carry this deadly derringer.”

Rune smiled, blue eyes twinkling with humor. “You're a deadeye shot at a yard. Any guy with a lick of sense will get out of your way.”

“Right.”

Angel moved into the aisle, walked to the exit, and stepped down to the platform. Rune was a strong, vital presence behind her. She looked about the town. Paris wasn't as wild as the Bend, but it was plenty busy.

She set off down a boardwalk, following Rune's instructions. She stepped around folks, inclining her head in greeting to female shoppers. She passed Harris Mercantile, noting the large size of the store and the front windows full of bright colors and enticing merchandise. The front door was open and chairs were being set up inside. She felt her heart accelerate, anticipating a new audience.

When she came to the U.S. Marshal's office of the Eastern District of Texas, she hesitated before going inside. She glanced to the side and saw Rune stop and pretend to look in a store's front window. As she reached for the doorknob, the door opened, and a tall, lean man stepped out.

“Pardon, ma'am,” he said.

From Rune's description, she recognized Marshal Bill Phillips and thanked her lucky stars for him making her job easier. She smiled and quickly gave the AHTA hand sign. “I need your help.”

He looked surprised. “Could I see that again?”

She gave the sign once more. “I'm an AHTA widow.”

Marshal Phillips nodded. “How may I help you?”

“Verity Whiteside is a friend of mine. Deputy Tate Thornton, her fiancé, has disappeared.”

“I'm well aware of that fact. We're doing all we can do to locate him.”

“I understand. She is . . . well, indisposed, so I promised I would check to see if there was any progress.”

“Would you like to come inside where it's cooler and more private?” He gestured toward the door.

“Thank you, but no. I can't stay long.”

“In that case, there's still no word about him.”

“I understand he was investigating the Badger Gang.”

“We're all trying to get a lead on that gang. I heard yesterday that they may be holed up near Horsethief Spring in the Ouachita Mountains. That's out of our jurisdiction, but Marshal Boles in the Western District of Arkansas has his deputies on the case. If he hears anything about Tate, he'll let me know.” Marshal Phillips shook his head. “Sorry I can't be of more help.”

“Thank you. Verity will be happy to hear you're still looking for Tate.”

“You bet we are. Check back with my office. We're doing our best. When you talk with AHTA members, please let them know we always appreciate their help.”

“I'll do that.”

He held out his hand to shake. “I didn't catch your name.”

She smiled as she shook his hand. “Perhaps another time.” She turned and quickly walked back down the boardwalk, feeling his gaze sharp between her shoulder blades.

As she moved past Rune, she looked the other way, hoping the marshal didn't decide to question her more or notice the gunslinger dogging her tracks. As quickly as possible, she stepped inside a store and pretended to shop while the proprietor helped other customers.

That had gone much more quickly and easily than she had expected, so she was ahead of schedule. Now she had to kill time before her reading at Harris Mercantile. In hindsight, she wished she had read first and talked to the marshal second, but she'd been afraid that if she waited his office might be closed. Now she feared that she'd called too much attention to herself and he might watch to see where she went. If he did, he'd see her as Angelica, and then she'd have even more explaining to do.

For now, she had time to catch her breath. She noticed a shadow in the doorway and looked up.
Rune.
He filled the space, a powerful figure that made most others appear small in comparison.

He walked over casually and picked up a cowboy hat. “Phillips is suspicious. Let's get out of town.”

“We can't,” she whispered. “My reading is next.”

“Skip it.”

“No. It means a lot to me.” She spoke louder than she meant to and several customers glanced over at her. She quickly picked up a shirt, and then dropped it. “He's probably suspicious of everything.”

“He may have seen me.”

“That's impossible.”

“What did you learn?”

“No word on Tate. Marshal Phillips thinks the gang may be holed up near Horsethief Spring in the—”

“That's like saying a bear likes honey. Nothing more?”

“Other deputies are on the case.”

“Either he's holding out on you or they're making no headway at all.”

“He seemed like a nice man.”

“So he wouldn't lie.” Rune glanced outside, and then back at her. “Okay. Start your reading early and cut it short.”

“Aren't you going to thank me?” She looked up into his blue eyes, cold and ruthless as a winter storm.

“Thanks. I'll be out back of Harris Mercantile when you're done.” He leaned close. “Don't dawdle. I can't afford to get caught.”

When he was gone, she was on her own. Doubts plagued her. Should she have listened to him? Was one reading worth the risk? Surely the marshal hadn't noticed Rune. They'd been careful. She hadn't even looked at him. She'd come straight into this store. Still, she had the nagging feeling that she might have made the wrong decision.

She pushed that worry from her mind. Now was not the time for doubts. She had an audience to please.