Love Finds You in Sundance, Wyoming (15 page)

“No, she won’t. I’ll tell her it was my idea, and I’m feeling fine. In fact, I’m ready to go back to work.”

“I don’t think so, young lady.” Travis’s gentle rebuke sent a shiver up Angel’s spine and she spun around in her chair.

He leaned against the doorjamb wearing a serious expression. “When you’re finished eating, you should head back to your room. No work until Doc Simmons says, and even then I might want you to wait another day just to be sure.”

Angel pushed back her chair and stood, uncertainty nearly making her mute. Hadn’t Travis implied that he was anxious for her to get back to work? She frowned. “I’m tired of lying around.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m your boss, and you won’t go back to work till I say.”

She gritted her teeth and restrained a sharp retort. Why was this man so difficult? “Fine. I won’t work today, but I’m not staying in that room another minute.”

Travis straightened and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “Good.” His lips continued their upward tilt until a full-blown grin broke free. “I’m glad we got that settled. And I don’t expect you to stay in your room—just off your horse.”

Angel wanted to throw something at him. He was her boss, but that didn’t give him the right to—to—boss her around. Her thoughts ground to a halt, and she slumped back into her chair. Last night she’d lain awake worrying she’d lose this job, and now she wanted nothing more than to challenge the man who had it in his power to take it away. What was wrong with her, anyway?

“All right.” She dropped her gaze to the table as Smokey slid a plate of bread, eggs, and applesauce under her nose. “Thanks, Smokey.” She smiled. “What a treat! Where did you get applesauce?”

His face turned a rosy hue, and he twisted his apron in work-roughened hands. “I had a few jars put away for a special occasion, and the boss suggested you might like some. ‘Sides, I figured you get-tin’ well qualifies as a special occasion.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she turned away. “I don’t know what to say.”

Travis had told Smokey to fix her something special? The thought nearly choked her. No one but José had ever looked out for her that way since her parents died.

“Don’t need to say nothin’; just eat up and enjoy.” He backed away and scurried to the wash pan, plunging a dish into the water and rattling it energetically.

Angel dipped her spoon into the golden concoction and lifted it to her mouth, savoring the flavor as it lingered on her tongue. She hadn’t had anything this wonderful since she was a youngster. Her uncle once brought home canned peaches after a trip to town. They’d tasted better than any candy she’d ever had, and she’d cried when she’d eaten the last bite. What had prompted Travis to part with such a precious gift?

Travis cleared his throat, and she raised her chin. Her fingers trembled. She placed the spoon carefully next to her bowl and dropped her hands into her lap. “Thank you for thinking of me. This was lovely.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He pushed himself away from the doorjamb. “Libby said you wanted to talk to me.”

Angel glanced at Smokey and shook her head. “It’s not important.”

Travis followed her gaze and seemed to understand. “Why don’t you stop by my office a little later?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, it’s nothing.”

Travis turned his head and took a step toward the next room. “I hear a buggy. Doc Simmons must be here. You finish your breakfast, and I’ll see him in.”

Angel waited till he’d left the room, then picked up her spoon and devoured the last of the applesauce. “That was wonderful, Smokey. Thank you so much.” She took a mouthful of her bread and stabbed at the eggs with her fork. “I guess I worked up an appetite lying in that room the past few days.”

Smokey’s laugh rumbled across the room. “Glad to hear it. I like to see people enjoy my food.”

“Is Libby here?” Angel lifted the bread to her mouth and chewed slowly.

“Yeah. I think she’s upstairs havin’ a little chat with James. It’s been so busy around here lately, she’s been neglectin’ the lad.” His eyes suddenly widened, and his lips parted. “I’m sorry. That was a blamed thing to say. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

Angel pasted on a smile. “It’s all right. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bother.” She laid her fork next to her plate and pushed it away.

“You ain’t been, Miss Angel. Honest.” He heaved a big sigh and twisted his towel into a knot. “Between Libby, Travis, and me—why, we’ve been plumb honored to care for you. Glad you’re up and around for your own sake, but you weren’t no bother a’tall.”

Smokey swiveled toward the footfalls coming down the staircase, along with louder ones following. Libby walked into the kitchen, her amber skirt swishing around her ankles, and James appeared close behind. He skidded to a halt and stared at Angel. “You’re up! Boy howdy, I thought you’d never come out of that room. When can you take me shooting?”

Libby pivoted and glared at her son. “James. She’s barely out of bed and probably needs to head straight back now that she’s eaten. Besides, no one said you could go shooting.”

James’s lips drooped in a pout. “Miss Angel said she’d take me.”

Angel blinked a few times, surprised at the declaration. “No, James, I didn’t. I said I’d consider it. But if your mother doesn’t approve, I won’t.”

“Not fair.” James kicked at an imaginary object on the floor. “Nobody lets me do anything fun around this place. I want to go back to San Francisco.” He bolted from the room and raced back up the stairs.

Angel dropped her head and pushed a strand of hair from her face, wishing she’d braided it before coming to breakfast. Why had James lied? Of course, the boy was probably merely excited about the prospect of doing something new and hadn’t thought of it as anything more. Too bad Libby didn’t seem inclined to let him spread his wings and learn more about ranch life.

Libby stepped forward and touched Angel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about that. James doesn’t always think before he speaks.”

“It’s all right. And I’d be happy to take him with me sometime, if you agree.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Libby sank into a chair across from Angel. “It’s not that I don’t approve of what you do for a living, it’s just that—“ She seemed to search for the right words. “This is such a harsh, unforgiving land. My brother has changed so much since coming here, and sometimes I’m afraid for my son.”

“Of what? You’re right, it’s a rugged land, but it makes men stronger. I’d imagine your brother is an example of how this country helps mold a man into someone more than he was.”

“And sometimes it breaks them, or turns them toward things better left alone.” Libby expelled a sigh. “I know it means a lot to James, and I
have
allowed him to ride with both Travis and Nate. I’ll think about it.”

Angel opened her mouth to reply, but an unfamiliar woman’s voice stilled her words. That surely wasn’t the doctor. Could he have brought his wife on his rounds, possibly to visit with Libby? She turned her gaze toward the doorway leading into the living room.

Travis entered with a petite, dark-haired woman who appeared to be in her early sixties. Her small hand rested within the crook of Travis’s elbow, and her free hand adjusted the black velvet hat perched on her salt-and-pepper curls. A black satin dress hugged her slender form and was amazingly free from the dust that typically accompanied travelers. Her sparkling, dark brown eyes darted from Angel to Libby and back again, settling with shimmering warmth on Angel. With a quick movement she released her grip on Travis’s arm and raised her hands in the air. “This is her, Signor? This is
la mia nipo-tina,
my granddaughter? The child of my beloved Maria?”

Travis glanced across the room at Angel and nodded. “If Angel Ramirez is your granddaughter, then yes, Signora de Luca, that’s her.”

Angel stared at the diminutive woman who beamed at her like she’d found something precious and didn’t want to let go. Her grandmother? She’d never seen this person before. She shook her head, hoping to dislodge the confusion. “I’m sorry. What makes you think I’m your granddaughter?”

Before the woman could answer, Travis looked her way and raised his brows. “You’re welcome to use my office if you’d like.”

“No, thank you.” Angel shook her head decisively. The woman looked harmless enough, but she didn’t care to be alone with her until she understood the claim she’d presented. “Maybe we could move to the living room and sit? I’d like you and Libby to come, if you don’t mind.”

Libby moved to stand beside Angel. “Certainly, we’d be happy to. Travis, why don’t you show Signora de Luca to a seat and we’ll be right along.”

Travis offered his arm to the matron, and she walked regally beside him into the adjoining room.

Libby leaned close and dropped her voice. “You don’t know her?”

“No.” Angel hated whispering in front of someone, but she didn’t care for this woman to hear. “My parents died when I was young. I don’t know much about my mother’s family except she migrated to this country from Italy with her older brother when she was seventeen.” She rose from her chair. “I guess we should join them.”

“Yes, that would be sensible.” Libby moved out of the way and allowed Angel to precede her into the next room. Signora de Luca sat like a delicate queen on Travis’s easy chair, and Travis stood nearby.

While Angel had been in this room before, she’d never spent any real time here. She stopped for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Definitely a man’s domain, it boasted an elk’s rack above the river-rock fireplace and a bear skin on the wall next to the chimney. Colorful rugs graced the floors. Comfortable sofas and sturdy tables were positioned in a half circle facing the fire. It radiated a feeling of peace and contentment like nothing she’d ever felt. She longed to curl up in a chair, lean her head back, and rest. Instead, she perched on the corner of a dark-brown leather chair with a blanket draped across its back.

Travis sat beside Libby on a sofa across the room from Angel and nodded toward Signora de Luca. “We’re happy to have you here, Signora, but I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re curious how you happened to come, since Angel doesn’t seem to know you.”

The matron bowed her head in a grave nod. “I would be most honored if you would call me by my given name, Maria.”

Angel gave a small start. Her mother’s name had been Maria.

“Of course. Now please, tell us what brought you here and how you found us so far out in the wilderness.”

Maria sat ramrod straight in her chair. “It is a long story, but I will try not to take too much of your time. And please“—she glanced at Angel—“do not hesitate to ask me questions.”

Angel gave a brief nod. This tiny woman held a certain fascination. The thought that she might be family was enough to ignite a spark of longing in her heart. She’d felt alone for so long.

Maria laced her fingers in her lap. “My husband and I were heartbroken when our two eldest children decided to venture to America. They hoped to escape the confines of the life we lived in Italy. Gino, my husband, had a successful watchmaking business and did not want to leave our homeland for a new country, as our children urged us to do. We begged them to stay, but no. So they sailed away and never returned.”

Libby leaned forward, her gaze reflecting sympathy for this woman’s loss. “Did you ever hear from them again?”

“Maria wrote frequently at first.” She nodded at Angel. “After she married your papa, la mia nipotina, her letters grew scarce. They traveled far away from the cities and were living in the West. Stagecoaches did not travel to their area often, and it was difficult to send mail. They moved frequently, as your papa’s work was unpredictable.”

Angel gripped her hands together, trying to still their shaking. Had Papa been involved with shady men like his older brother, José, had? Best not to think about it now—just listen and hope to understand the new revelations about her parents that this woman shared— if indeed she spoke of her parents, and not someone else.

Maria pressed on, her lined face intent and her dark eyes moving from person to person, lingering at last on Angel. “We learned of your birth and rejoiced. My husband and I hoped to visit you in America, but Guido, our youngest, took sick. He lingered for ten years before he finally went to heaven. The letters stopped coming, and many years passed. We never knew what happened to our daughter and her baby, or the man that Maria married.” She peered at Angel, her mouth drawn in a pain-filled line. “Are your parents living?”

Angel bit her lip. “No. They died of the fever when I was eight. Papa’s older brother, José, raised me.”

“Ah. That is as we feared. That would explain why the letters ceased.” Maria nodded as a shadow of sadness cloaked her face. “Gino and I determined to close the business and come to America. The last time we heard from your mama, she wrote to us from Wyoming. We sent out letters, hoping to find her. We spent three years searching and had nearly given up, when word came from a town marshal saying he had heard of an Angelo de Luca working on a nearby ranch.”

Angel’s heart contracted, and she felt as though she’d been cow-kicked. If a marshal had heard of her, what more might he know? Letters sent to law officers could stir up questions into a past best left alone.

Maria leaned forward. “We felt hope for the first time and made plans to sail on the next ship.” Her voice faltered, and she sniffed.

Travis withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and leaned across to press it into her hand. “What of your husband, Maria?”

The older woman dabbed at her eyes. “His heart was weak and could not stand the excitement. I buried him two months before leaving my Italy. My only hope lay in this Wyoming, where I was told my Maria and her baby lived.”

A flower of hope blossomed in Angel’s heart, as the light of Maria’s words poured into her spirit. She’d never known Mama and Papa had lived in Wyoming before moving to Texas. Maybe the God she remembered her mother talking about had cared enough to bring her back to the place where her grandmother could find her.

Grandmother.
She shivered at the word, her thoughts in turmoil. What would it mean, having someone who belonged to her? Would this woman love and understand her, accept her for all that she was and all this country had helped her become? Or would she strive to change her and scorn the work she did? Maria must never know of Angel’s past. The woman sitting across the room had endured much already—this would be more than anyone should have to bear.

“Angel? Are you feeling all right?” Libby’s words roused Angel from her deep reflection. “Maybe you need to lie down. You shouldn’t tax yourself on your first day out of bed.”

A gasp left Maria’s lips, and she pushed from her chair. “Child, you have been ill? Forgive me for my thoughtless chatter.”

“I’m all right, just tired.” Angel smiled at Maria and rose from the couch, uncomfortable at the attention. “I think I’ll go to my room, if you don’t mind?”

Maria took a step toward her and lifted her arms. “Do you believe me, child of my heart? That I am your grandmother come to find you at last? Can you forgive an old woman for taking so long to come?”

Angel shook her head. “There’s nothing to forgive. It’s all come as such a surprise. Will you be here when I get up?”

Travis cleared his throat and smiled. “I hope I can answer that. Signora, my sister and I would like to extend an invitation for you to stay as long as you’d like. We have a room upstairs and would be honored to have you here.”

A tiny tremor of surprise shook Angel. Travis’s offer indicated a willingness to believe Maria’s story.

Maria dipped her head and turned to Libby. “You are sure it will not be an imposition? I am certain you have much to do without adding another burden to your day.”

Libby reached out her hand and took the older woman’s, giving it a squeeze. “No imposition at all. It will be our pleasure.”

“Then it is settled. I thank you both.” Maria looked from one to the other and turned her gaze on Angel. “I understand your confusion, little one. Go. Sleep well. We will speak again when you are rested. I want to know everything about you, your parents, and how you were raised.”

Angel spent much of the next two days in her room. The lack of exercise chafed at her, but she didn’t care to chance a private meeting with Maria. She could deal with having a relative, even anticipated the prospect of getting acquainted with a grandmother she’d never known. Her heart told her the older woman spoke the truth, but Maria’s final statement shot fear into Angel’s mind.

She woke the next morning determined to take a ride and get away from the house. If nothing else, she’d make sure any time spent with Maria was in someone else’s company, where she could draw Libby, Travis, or James into the conversation. Better yet, the cowboys might offer a welcome diversion. Relief flooded her as men’s jovial voices drifted toward her from the dining area. She slipped out her bedroom door and down the hall.

Angel slid into her seat just as Travis quieted the table for prayer. Maria sat on Travis’s left and Libby graced her normal place to his right. Angel’s seat next to Libby remained open, and she heaved a sigh of relief. At least Libby hadn’t decided to place her next to Maria, where the older woman could pester her with questions. Having James to Angel’s right would give her someone to visit with. Bless Libby for coming up with the new seating arrangement.

The sudden hush and the quiet words to the Almighty brought an unexpected sense of peace to Angel’s spirit. She remembered the gushing spring at the plateau and how the water called to her—Tra-vis’s prayer tugged at her heart in the same way, although she wasn’t sure why. Was it the man, and the words he spoke, or something that went deeper?

Angel met Maria’s tranquil, warm gaze. The message came through. “I’m here. I care.” And it scared Angel a little. She ducked her head and turned toward James, dropping her voice. “I think your mother might allow you to go riding with me, but you’ll need to ask her to be sure.”

James’s freckled face lit with joy. “Ah, golly, Angel, thank you. Uh—I mean, Miss Angel.” A blush crept into his cheeks. “Can I bring a rifle?”

“Not this time.” She placed a finger against her lips. “Let’s not push your mother, all right? I think it’s enough if she lets you come along this first time.” She dipped the large serving spoon into the pot of oatmeal sitting near her plate, filled her bowl, and topped it off with a helping of sugar. Not one of her favorite dishes, but the hot bread smothered in some of Smokey’s apple jam would help it go down.

Libby touched Angel’s forearm. “How are you feeling? Did your rest yesterday help?”

“Yes. My arm is much better, and my strength is back. I thought I might take a short ride today.”

Libby’s forehead scrunched and her lips puckered. “Are you sure it’s wise to go back to work so soon? Shouldn’t you ask the doctor first?”

“I’m not going to work, just take a ride, and I promise it won’t be more than couple of hours. I need to get out of the house and back on my horse. Being cooped up is difficult for me.”

“I understand.” Libby took the plate of bread that Travis handed her, took a slice, and passed it along to Angel.

Angel helped herself and turned back to Libby. “I have a favor to ask. Would it be all right if James comes along? I won’t let him take a gun, or shoot mine.”

Libby sat for a moment, her gaze moving from Angel to James and back again. “Yes, I think that would be fine. I appreciate your thoughtfulness in not allowing him to shoot. At least, this time.” She finished with a small smile.

James let out a whoop, then covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry.” He whispered the word.

Travis broke off his conversation with Maria and stared at the boy. “James? What was that for?”

“Sorry, Uncle Travis. Mom said I can go riding with Angel— Miss Angel—today.”

Travis glanced from James to Libby, then stared directly at Angel. “You’re riding?”