Angel in My Arms (23 page)

It was near midnight when Celeste finally laid down her pen. "Who
ever thought getting rich could be so complicated?" she said, as she
stared at the stacks of paper and columns of numbers.

"Who'd have thought it?" Fox echoed, sounding equally grim.

"We've got to get some of that silver out of that hole so we can buy
more equipment, hire more men." She glanced at him, not sure how to
approach the next subject, yet knowing she had to. "But we need the
equipment and the men to bring the ore up."

Fox leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head. "Doesn't put us in a good position, does it?"

"Fox?"

He leaned forward, scribbled another number, and rocked back in the chair again. "Mm hm?"

"I… I know this is a joint effort. Half and half, straight down the
middle, but do you think—" She moaned silently. It was so hard for her
to ask anyone for anything, but this was even more difficult. "Do you
think you could put a share of your money into the operation and loan
me an equal portion? Just to get started?" His face was suddenly
expressionless. "I… I'd pay you interest of course."

"No." He let the chair rock forward and hit the hardwood floor with a bang.

She was completely taken aback by his curt answer. "No?"

"We'll have to make do." He rose from the chair and grabbed his coat
off the back. It was the same coat he'd worn when he'd first come to
Carrington. He'd never bought a single piece of clothing since he'd
arrived. "We'll have to start out using manual labor to do the
hoisting. We'll take the cash from what we've sold, and sink that into
the operation and buy the engines when we can."

Celeste didn't know what she'd said wrong, but he was obviously
upset with her. And even though she tried not to be, her feelings were
hurt by his response. "All right," she said quietly. "We'll make do."
She got up from the table to clear away the dishes. As she turned her
back, he walked out of the kitchen. Celeste heard Fox's footsteps as he
ascended the staircase.

Hastily, she wiped away the silly tear that had gathered in the
corner of one eye. It wouldn't have been a good idea to borrow money
from him anyway. Just another tie to bind…

They think this silver strike will bring life to the town.
Fools, stupid, mindless fools. It will bring nothing but filth. It will
spread nothing but the filth that already eats away at mankind.

Duty. It is my duty to cleanse, to purify, to teach by deed, not just by word. I cannot sit by and watch the filth spread.

The blade is sharp. The time is right. I must follow my calling;
put an end to their wretched lives and save the souls of the men they
lure with their silken hair and lovely breasts.

I cannot rest until my duty is done. I cannot rest until they are gone. All gone, and godliness reigns again.

Celeste walked into the kitchen the following morning to find Fox
standing at the window sipping a cup of coffee. He hadn't come to her
room last night, but he looked as if he hadn't slept either.

His face was pale. He took a sip from the delicate teacup that
looked so strange in his broad, callused hand. She wondered if he was
feeling guilty for his refusal to put up his own money for the mining
operation.
He should,
she thought.

"I didn't do it," he said softly as she entered the room. "I want you to know I didn't do it."

She froze in the doorway, her hands falling to grip the knot of the
tie that held her dressing gown closed. She felt lightheaded. Thoughts
of the mining operation and the encounter they'd had last night slipped
out of her head. A chill crept from the floor to her knees, making them
weak. "Another?" She looked up anxiously; her legs felt wobbly beneath
her sleeping gown. "Someone I know?"

He nodded gravely. "Another, but no one you knew. The new girl who
set up business in a tent by the station. They called her Lacey."

Celeste was immensely relieved that it wasn't one of her friends,
but at the same time her heart ached for any woman like herself. What
if
she
had had an Adam waiting somewhere for her? "How do you know?"

"I took Silver out for a walk just before dawn. There was a big fuss
on the street. Someone had found her. One of Tate's men was just
heading over to get him out of bed."

"So you were out again when it happened?" She stood where she was. She knew in her heart he wasn't the killer, and yet…

There was an edge to his voice. "I was walking the streets like I do. Silver was with me."

Sometimes men said the most ridiculous things. "Walking a dog doesn't exclude a man from killing, Fox."

He had lifted his cup to take another sip of coffee, but halted to
stare at her over the rim. "I'm not a murderer and you know it, damn
it!"

She moved to the stove. He had already put tea water on for her. She
reached for her china teapot. "Did anyone see you on the street?"

"No. But I'm sure Tate will be here before we're done with breakfast. He's dying to throw me into jail."

"Maybe you should go to him first, or…" she hesitated as she poured
boiling water from the kettle into the teapot. "Maybe I should just say
you were with me all night."

"I don't need you to lie for me," he snapped. "I didn't kill that woman by the tracks. I didn't kill anyone."

"Maybe you should tell me what Tate thinks he has on you. If I knew,
maybe I could talk to him myself." She added tea leaves to the pot and
carried it to the table. She was too sick to her stomach to think of
food. She needed hot tea and a chair.

"I—I don't know what he thinks he has on me. It doesn't matter,
Celeste." He came around the table to her. "It doesn't matter because I
haven't done anything wrong. I need you to believe that."

Silver shot out from under the table a second before a knock sounded at the front door.

Celeste started to rise, but Fox laid his hand on her shoulder.
"I'll get it," he said tersely. "Probably a pair of handcuffs for me
anyway."

She eased back into the chair. It was so easy for her to let Fox be
the strong one for a moment. Too easy. She was growing weak. Her veneer
was cracking. It felt so good to have someone she felt she could depend
on, lean on. But Celeste knew she was making a mistake. She knew she
couldn't really depend on Fox. At some point he'd turn the mining
operation over to someone else, or he'd sell his share, and he'd be
gone.

Celeste stirred her tea and listened at the door. It was Kate.
Celeste knew she should get up and go see her, but she just couldn't
bring herself to do it. She couldn't bring herself to hear the details
of that poor woman's murder.

The door closed and Fox walked back into the kitchen. He halted and
brushed back a long lock of hair over his forehead. He was sadly in
need of a haircut. "Kate thinks you need to get down to the sheriff's
office right away. She says she'll meet you there."

Celeste half rose from her chair. "Tate's office? Why me?"

"Ace needs you. One of Tate's deputies just hauled him in for questioning."

She jumped up to go dress. She had to get to the sheriff's office as
quickly as possible. She knew Ace had always been both frightened and
intimidated by Tate. "Questioning? Questioning for what?"

As Celeste passed Fox in the doorway, he brushed his fingertips against hers. "For the murder of the whore."

"Not another one." One of Tate's nameless new deputies stood in the
jail house doorway, a toothpick protruding from his mouth. "That boy's
already got a room full of visitors."

Celeste pushed her way past the deputy, leaving Fox no choice but to
follow. "Ace has a right to have someone present when he's questioned.
Truth is, he ought to have a lawyer, and you know it." With one hip,
she pushed open the swinging half door that led to the rear of the jail.

"Lawyer? That half-wit don't need no lawyer!" The deputy followed
Celeste and Fox. " 'Sides, 'e ain't been charged with nothin'. Sheriff
Tate just wants to question 'im."

Celeste hurried down a shabby, narrow corridor, through another door
that led to the cells. She spotted Ace inside a small cell that
resembled a straw-strewn cow stall with bars. The young man clung to
the iron bars with white knuckles, pathetically staring out into the
room.

He reached for her with one hand.

"Tate, what the damnation do you think you're doing?" Celeste
couldn't see the sheriff because he was blocked from her view by Kate,
Reverend Tuttle, and Rosy. Everyone was talking at once, but appeared
to be accomplishing nothing.

Fox remained in the doorway. Celeste had only allowed him to come to
serve as personal protection. She was still angry with him about last
night, but after another murder, she had welcomed his escort.

"Ah, Miss Kennedy. I wondered how long it would take you to git here." Tate's cheek protruded from his wad of chewing tobacco.

"Expecting me, were you?" She walked to the barred cell and took
Ace's cold hand. To her horror, she could now see that his face was
beaten and streaked with dried blood, his shirt spattered as well. An
icy shard of fear crept up her spine. Surely Ace couldn't have…
wouldn't have…

"I was expecting you because the half-wit won't speak."

"He
can't
speak," she answered tartly.

"He won't even talk with his hands the way I seen him do. Just stares at me with that mule-stupid look on his face."

Celeste stared into Ace's black Indian eyes. The young man was
scared out of his wits. "How did he get this blood all over him?" She
directed her question to Kate.

"Don't know. Sheriff's right. He won't talk. Not even to me. He just keeps signing that he wants you. Wants Miss Celeste."

Reverend Tuttle approached the jail cell and thrust his face in
front of Ace's. "Save yourself and confess if you have, indeed,
committed this sin, son." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Confess and save
your immortal soul."

Celeste glared at Joash. "Really, now. Do you think that's going to help Ace get out of here?"

Joash lifted his chin haughtily. "My first concern must be for our dear friend's afterlife; you know that, Celeste."

"Well. Let's get him out of here and then deal with his soul, shall
we?" Celeste turned on the sheriff. "Let Ace out of here. He's hurt.
His wounds need to be cleaned."

Sheriff Tate sauntered up to the cell, the keys jingling on a key
ring on his belt. "And what if he's the murderer, Miss Kennedy. What if
he intends to make you his next victim?"

Celeste never flinched. It wasn't that she hadn't considered the
possibility that the killer might come after her, she just refused to
be intimidated by Tate's bullying. "Ace didn't kill anyone and you
damned well know it! Let him out!"

"You look into that Reb character I told you about?" Fox questioned
from the doorway. "I told you last night that he attacked Miss Kennedy
on the street."