Angel In The Rain (Western Historical Romance) (33 page)

Carmella carefully took a seat next to her on the side of the bed and slipped a comforting arm across her back.

Despite a few initial misgivings about taking in a woman who was fleeing her marriage, Carmella had proven to be a godsend. During the two short weeks she’d been in the house, a deeper friendship had developed. For the first time in her life, Angel felt a connection with another woman. The close proximity forged mutual confidence, and why not? They knew each other’s secrets.

After a moment of companionable silence, Carmella cleared her throat. “Have you noticed any other...uh...signs lately?”

Angel stopped the rag in mid-swipe and stared at her, puzzled by her obvious reluctance. “Signs? What kind of signs?”

“Swelling. Soreness.”

She started to ask where, specifically, she might have suffered these symptoms when she noticed Carmella looking, and yet trying not to stare, at her chest. She glanced down at the thin lawn nightgown that covered her from neck to toe and saw how it clung to her clammy skin. She’d put on weight. Just a couple of pounds perhaps, but she could definitely see a difference in her bustline when she laced her corset. She lifted a hand and cupped her breast. The feeling of fullness, of deep aching tenderness didn’t surprise her. After several weeks, she’d grown used to the discomfort. Self-consciously, she dropped her hand to her lap.

A faint thrum of warning began at Angel’s temples. She pulled in a fortifying breath. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Carmella.”

Carmella tried to force a smile, but couldn’t banish the worry from her eyes. She reached for Angel’s hand and clasped it firmly. “I think, perhaps, you may be
encinta
.”

Angel frowned.
Encinta
?

Carmella’s dark, arching brows eased up her forehead. “You know,” she prompted. “A baby?”

Pregnant.

Angel jerked her hand from the woman’s grasp and surged to her feet.
Pregnant
. Suddenly, the room felt too close, the air too muggy and suffocating. She rushed to the window and shoved back the curtain. Morning sunlight shot painful needles into her wide, frightened eyes. Just as quickly, she wheeled from the harsh light and pressed her back against the wall to face Carmella once more.

“How can I know for sure?”

Carmella stood. “Think. When was the last time you had your monthly curse?”

Angel’s mind flew back over the preceding weeks as she tried to recall, but coherent thought was nearly impossible with panic beating at her temples. Then she remembered because it had occurred at the worst possible time, during the train ride from New York. So long ago.
How could she have been so stupid?

Misery swamped her, so overpowering she hadn’t the strength to stand any longer. Wrapping her arms tightly around her stomach, she sank down the wall to the floor. Dear God, was it possible? Could she really have conceived a baby?
Rane’s baby
. She knew the answer was an undeniable
yes
.

****

Angel stepped from the doctor’s office and paused on the walk to pull on a pair of black lace gloves. At high noon the streets of El Paso baked under a haze of heat and dust. Underneath her corset, layers of petticoats, and sateen day dress, she was sweating like a pig on a spit. Still, despite her discomfort, she stiffened her spine and held her head high as she angled her steps toward the hotel on the upper end of town.

The brisk walk soon had sweat seeping from her hairline. The oversized hat on her head mostly hid her blond hair, but also held in the withering heat like an oven. In a town mostly populated by dark-skinned, dark-haired Mexicans she stood out like a beacon. And the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself after she’d slipped out of her hotel room and ventured across town alone. Her father would have a fit, if he found out.

When Roy had suggested a trip, a much-needed change of scenery for them all, she’d seized the opportunity. It wasn’t until later that she learned “them all” included Will Keegan.

She should have known. Her father hadn’t given up on the idea of getting her “hitched” to his fair-haired boy. Since their arrival four days ago, she’d been subjected to no less than three candlelit dinners meant to encourage some romance between them. Three nights of imitating civil conversation with Will while trying to force down food had strained her patience to the limits.

If Roy only knew how things really stood between her and his right-hand man. But he hadn’t a clue, and she wasn’t about to tell him. Not yet, anyway.

Right now, fending off her father’s matchmaking attempts and dealing with Will were the least of her worries. The doctor had confirmed her suspicion. She was going to have a baby.

Since the morning Carmella learned of her morning sickness, little else had consumed her thoughts. At times, the idea of having Rane’s baby filled her with giddy happiness. The child would be a part of him. She tried to imagine how it might look. Would it have his dark hair and disturbing eyes to constantly remind her of him?

At other times, like now, the reality of what she had done terrified her. All too soon, her condition would become evident. Before that happened, she would have to face her father and tell him the truth. The very prospect was mind-numbing.

Angel reached the hotel not a moment too soon. She was sweating profusely and trembling so, she didn’t think she would be able to stand for much longer. She closed the door to her room and leaned against it for support. Fighting tears, she yanked at the smothery hat until the pins pulled free, then flung it onto the bed.

A knock at the door jolted her. She drew herself up, fighting for composure. After smoothing back the wild strands of hair left flying by ripped out pins, she turned and opened the door a crack.

She expected to see a maid in the hallway with an armful of linens. Instead, Will stood with one hand propped against the doorframe. Unsmiling, his pale eyes narrowed on her and traveled downward. She knew he saw the dust coating the hem of her dress, the telltale wetness glistening on her exposed skin.

“What is it?” she asked. She didn’t have to force a note of impatience into her voice, it just naturally came out.

A slight shove of his hand away from the doorframe returned him to his full, imposing height. “We need to talk.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not now. I’m tired.”

“You’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say.”

“What’s so important it can’t wait until later?”

“Your trip to the doctor.”

Panic pressed a hard, brawny fist into her stomach. Her heart beat unmercifully against the rigid stays of her corset.
Don’t react.
Though her breath heaved past her parted lips in quick gusts, she willed her expression into calm lines. “What were you doing, following me?”

“I saw you leave your room. I thought I’d better track along and make sure you didn’t get into any trouble. We’re sittin’ right on the border, you know, and a lotta things can happen to a woman wanderin’ around by herself.”

“Why don’t you just admit you were spying on me?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

At this point, nothing he did surprised her.

“So, why did you go see the doctor?”

No longer able to withstand his probing gaze, she turned and walked to the dressing table. She knew she’d made another mistake when he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“You shouldn’t be in here. It’s indecent.”

“I think we’ve gone way past parlor manners,” he said.

She knew no protest would dislodge him. Evidently, he had something on his mind. She turned to the mirror.

“So, what did the doctor say?” he persisted.

She forced a chuckle. “Really, Will. There are some things a girl doesn’t discuss with a man.” If she alluded to some mysterious female malady, she hoped he would behave like a gentleman for once and drop the subject.

Plucking at the fingers of the tight fitting gloves, she pulled them off and tossed them onto the dresser. Leaning in to the mirror, she made a pretense of fussing with her disheveled hair.
Damn it
. She was shaking like a leaf in a high wind. The multiple layers of heavy clothing had grown beyond stifling. If she didn’t get some air soon, she feared she would faint.

She gripped the edge of the polished wood with both hands. “Would you,
please
, just go ahead and say whatever it is you came here to say and then leave.”

“I know why you went to the doctor.” The words resonated anger and disgust.

Angel’s breath snagged in her throat.

“You’re pregnant.”

Her knees threatened to buckle. Still clutching at the dresser for support, she turned. “That’s absurd! How dare you!”

“How dare you lie through your teeth!” he countered. “I stopped in and had a little talk with the doctor after you left. He said you and the baby are fine. You and the
baby
, Angel!”

Her mouth fell open on a gasp. She shook her head, disbelieving. “He just came out and told you that?”

“He thought I was your brother. Your very
concerned
brother.”

Betrayed. All the grief and pain and terrible fear she’d been holding inside for so long boiled to the surface at once. Scalding tears welled and spilled down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands.

She reeled on her feet, perilously close to falling, and no longer cared. Until Will’s callused fingers closed around her upper arm to steady her. She hadn’t the strength or the willpower to pull away from him.

“There’s still a way out of this,” he said.

What way, her mind clamored. If he thought she would agree to getting rid of her child...the very idea horrified her.

She lifted her head and looked at him. “What do you mean? What way?”

A muscle in his rigid jaw ticked beneath the skin. “I’ll say the baby’s mine. We’ll get married and no one need ever be the wiser.”

She stared at him, appalled. “You’re insane,” she blurted softly. Fury poured much needed strength through her limbs. She wrenched her arm from his grasp and stepped back, out of his reach.

“You would do anything, wouldn’t you?
Anything
to get your hands on the Flying C.”

Will glared at her. “Yeah, I want the ranch. The way I see it, you’re in desperate need of a husband. Pronto. So the answer is staring us right in the face. We get married, just like the old man wants. I get what I want. You get what you need. It’s that simple.”

“Simple!” she snapped. “You
are
insane!”

“Look,” he grated. “I’m willin’ to help you clean up your mess.”

His blistering gaze narrowed and dropped to her waist. She fought the urge to place a protective hand over her stomach.

“I know there’s a chance your baby will look like a Mex,” he continued. “But maybe it won’t. Hell, you’re as blond as a Swede. That might count for somethin’.”

Evidently, he’d done some quick thinking during his mad dash back to the hotel.

“Get out of here,” she said with steely calm.

“No. There’s too much at stake.”

She couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t face the damnation in his eyes. She walked to the window and pressed her palms hard against the sill. Beyond the glass, nothing but blurred color swam before her eyes. God help her. She’d made such a mess of her life. What was she going to do?

“Mantorres ain’t comin’ back, Angel,” Will continued behind her. “Even if he did, it wouldn’t change things. If you had some idea about it makin’ a difference because he’s Lundy’s son, you can just get that notion right out of your head. Even if his pa was the King of England, he’d still be a stinkin’ greaser. Don’t be surprised if you hear he’s been gunned down in some hole-in-the-wall.”

Angel’s face convulsed against the glass pane.

“Come to your senses, woman!”

“Just go away, Will,” she begged, beyond wretched. “Leave me alone.”

For a long moment, she heard nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat slogging through her ears. Then, Will’s heavy footsteps crossed the room, retreating. The door opened, and he huffed a weary sounding breath. “I’ll be in my room. When you change your mind,” he said, his voice a flat rumble.

The door clicked when he shut it. Angel closed her eyes against the streaming sunlight of El Paso at midday and pulled in a long breath. For the moment, she only wanted to be left alone with her misery.

****

Deep detonations of thunder rolled across the land. Behind him, the windowpanes rattled in their frames. The sound roused Rane from the state of oblivion he had worked so hard to achieve. With a muttered curse, he coiled his hand loosely around the neck of the whiskey bottle he’d been nursing and then stood. Weaving an unsteady path to the window, he shoved aside the heavy drape.

Lightning slashed through the night’s velvet blackness. He squinted against the sudden brilliance. A heller of a storm was lashing the border country and he’d been oblivious to it.