The Outlaws: Rafe (33 page)

"I've come to see my husband," Angela said, prepared to do battle if her request was denied.
 
From the corner of her eye she saw Rafe's head shoot up at the sound of her voice.

Fortunately Sheriff Jenkins did not deny her request.
 
"Fifteen minutes, Mrs. Gentry, that's all I can allow."

"Very well,
 
Can we have a few moments of privacy?"

"I'll step outside if you swear you don't have any weapons on you.
 
But don't get any foolish ideas.
 
I'm taking the keys with me and the guns are locked in a cabinet."

"I carry no weapons, sheriff," Angela said stiffly.

Jenkins shot her a warning glance, then stepped outside the door.

Angela hurried over to Rafe.
 
His knuckles were white from gripping the bars and his silver eyes mirrored the bleakness of his soul.

"You were right and I was wrong," he admitted gravely.
 
"If I wasn't hellbent on proving my innocence I wouldn't be in this predicament now.
 
I should have taken off for healthier climes when I had the chance."

"I understand, Rafe.
 
No man wants his reputation ruined by false charges," Angela said.
 
"What can I do to help you."

"Buy a ticket on the next stage to Canyon City while you still have money," Rafe advised.
 
"Forget me.
 
I thought I could protect you, but I can't.
 
You should have let them hang me in Ordway."

Blue flames shot from Angela's eyes.
 
Hands on hips, she shook her head in feigned disgust.
 
"It's not like you to give up without a fight, Rafe Gentry."

"I don't have anything left to fight with.
 
What an arrogant fool I was to think people would listen to me.
 
I had to be mad to force you to accompany me.
 
No," he corrected himself, "I was jealous.
 
I couldn't bear the thought of Chandler having you.
 
You're mine."

He gave her a look filled with such anguish it nearly broke Angela's heart.

 
"Go home, love," he reiterated.
 
"There's nothing left for you here and everything waiting for you in Colorado."

"I'm not going anywhere without you, Rafe Gentry," Angela persisted.

His thoughts seemed to turn inward.
 
"You know what puzzles me?"
 
Angela shook her head.
 
"The sheriff hasn't mentioned those charges stemming from the Colorado stagecoach robbery and murders.
 
Perhaps word hasn't reached Kansas yet."

"Thank God for that," Angela said with heartfelt relief.
 
She clasped his hand through the bars.
 
"Don't give up, Rafe.
 
I'll find some way to help you."

A long, weary sigh slid past Rafe's lips.
 
"The best thing you can do for both of us is to leave.
 
Forget about our marriage.
 
Nothing exists to show we were ever husband and wife.
 
Find a man who can offer you more than I."

The door opened and Sheriff Jenkins reentered the room.
 
"Time is up, Mrs. Gentry."

"I'll be back," Angela whispered.
 
Aloud, she said, "Thank you, sheriff.
 
I'll return tomorrow, if I may."

Rafe watched Angel disappear through the door, wishing he knew what she had in her devious little mind.
 
He saw no possible way Angel could help him, no matter how eager she was to come to his aid.
 
This time he was on his own; all his options had suddenly dried up.
 
Fate had dealt him a losing hand.
 
The only good to happen to him was meeting Angel.

After a restless night's sleep, Angela dressed with care for her confrontation with Rufus Wingate, the man who held Rafe's life in his hands.
 
Now, poised in front of the bank, she straightened her newly purchased bonnet atop her head, smoothed down her skirts, and pushed through the bank's entrance.
 
She bypassed two clerks waiting on customers and marched directly to the door marked private and knocked.

"What is it, Stanley?" a voice called from the other side.

Angela took that as a sign to enter and pushed the door open.
 
She stepped inside, closed the door softly behind her and waited to be acknowledged.

"What do you want, Stanley?
 
Can't you see I'm busy?"
 
Rufus Wingate said without looking up.

"I need to talk to you, Mr. Wingate."

Wingate's head shot up.
 
"How did you get in here?
 
I thought you were Stanley.
 
Do I know you, young lady?"

"No, you don't know me.
 
I'm sorry to barge in like this without an appointment but my business is urgent."

"My bank doesn't loan money to women.
 
Send your husband around and I'll see what I can do for him."
 
Having given his little spiel on bank policy, Wingate gave Angela a nod of dismissal and went back to the ledger he'd been perusing.

"I'm not here for a loan," Angela said, refusing to be ignored.
 
I'd venture to say I can buy your bank and have plenty of money left over."

That bald statement caught Wingate's attention.
 
"What did you say your name was, young lady?"

"I didn't say," Angela intoned dryly.
 
"It's Mrs. Rafe Gentry."

"Well, Mrs. Gentry, why don't you sit down and state your..."
 
His words fell off.
 
He stared at her as if she were an apparition from Hell.
 
"You did say Mrs. Rafe Gentry, didn't you?"

Angela took her time seating herself and arranging her skirts to her satisfaction.
 
"You heard me correctly.
 
My business concerns my husband, Mr. Wingate."

Wingate aimed his gaze anywhere but at Angela.
 
"Sheriff Jenkins informed me that Gentry returned to Dodge yesterday.
 
He's in jail now, exactly where he belongs."

"Rafe told me everything that happened here that fateful day.
 
One word from you will clear his name, Mr. Wingate.
 
Rafe and his brothers never robbed your bank, did they?"

"The Gentry brothers are outlaws," Wingate claimed.
 
"I'm not going to lie to the law.
 
I have a reputation to uphold."

"What about Rafe and his brothers?
 
Your false charges ruined their reputations, their lives.
 
You lied to the law about them."

Wingate leaped to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process.
 
"Now see here, Mrs. Gentry.
 
I don't know what your husband told you, if Gentry really is your husband, but none of it is true.
 
He and his brothers did indeed rob my bank.
 
Leave now, before you find yourself occupying a cell with your husband."

Undaunted, Angela rose slowly and with great dignity.
 
"I'll go, but you haven't heard the last from me."

Only after Angela left the bank did she let her dejection show.
 
She didn't wear defeat easily.
 
She allowed her shoulders to slump and her chin to sink a scant moment before shaking herself and turning her mind to other ways to convince Mr. Wingate to tell the truth.

Rafe paced his cell like a caged animal.
 
Knowing Angel as he did, he feared she would get herself into trouble.
 
Trouble seemed to follow her despite her good intentions.
 
He was more than a little relieved when Angel visited him later that day.
 
She nodded to the sheriff and hurried over to his cell, clutching his hands through the bars.

"Did you buy a ticket to Canyon City?" Rafe asked.
 
"When does the stage leave?"

"I'm not leaving, Rafe Gentry."
 
She searched his face, then let her gaze drift down his body.
 
"Are they feeding you?"

"I'm being fed," Rafe assured her.
 
"The food is tolerable.
 
The sheriff said the judge will be coming through town in three weeks or there about."

"You'll be gone long before then," Angela said with a conviction she was from feeling.
 
"I've been working on a plan."

"Angel..."

"Don't fuss, Rafe.
 
I'm sure things will turn out the way we want them.
 
Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes, don't do anything at all.
 
Your schemes have a way of going awry."

"Sorry, Rafe, you should have thought about that before you dragged me out here.
 
I'll see you tomorrow."

"Angel, wait."
 
Their hands were still clasped; he drew her forward until she was pressed against the bars.
 
Then he angled his face and kissed her.

She kissed him back.
 
The sweetness of her response brought a suspicious moisture to his eyes.
 
Then abruptly he released her, gave her a gentle push and backed away from the bars.

"Go back to the Golden Angel, love.
 
Knowing you're safe will do more for me than anything you can do for me here."

"Sorry, Rafe, you're in no position to tell me what to do.
 
I'm going to prove your innocence if it's the last thing I do."

Back stiff, she walked away, nodding good-bye to the sheriff as she heading out the door.

Angela's heart was heavy as she walked back to the hotel.
 
She had no idea what she was going to do next.
 
Wingate wasn't the least bit intimidated.
 
His pride demanded that he stick to his story no matter how false or hurtful to others.

Back in her room, she pulled a chair over to the window and stared out into the street, ideas flitting through in her brain in rapid succession and just as quickly discarded.
 
Rufus Wingate was the only person besides Rafe who knew the truth about the alleged robbery.
 
She couldn't give up now, not with things going against Rafe like they were.
 
Determination stiffened her spine.
 
She wouldn't give up.
 
She'd badger Wingate until he admitted the truth.

Angela ate dinner in her room and retired early, a plan of action still not firmly in place.
 
First thing in the morning she intended to wire her lawyer for money.
 
She might need more than she had on hand if her stay at the Dodge House was to be a lengthy one.
 
Then she would visit Wingate at his office and try one more time to talk some sense into him.
 
She fell asleep pondering the words she'd use to sway Wingate into admitting he lied.

A clap of thunder awaked Angela from a fitful sleep.
 
She heard the sound of rain spewing down from the heavens in unrelenting sheets.
 
A flash of lightning jolted her upright.
 
It didn't appear as if the downpour was going to stop any time soon.
 
She washed, dressed and ate breakfast in the dining room.
 
Then she sat in the hotel lobby, tapping her foot in time to the steady beat of the rain as she waited for it to stop.

Eventually the rain did stop.
 
A weak sun broke through the rain clouds shortly before noon, rewarding Angela's patience.
 
She had business to be about and could waste no more precious time twiddling her thumbs.
 
She stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk outside the hotel and groaned in dismay when she saw the quagmire the rain had made of the roads.
 
Unfortunately she had to cross the street to reach the bank and telegraph office.

Angela lifted her skirts high and stepped off the sidewalk into the muddy street.
 
She had trudged halfway across when she noted a woman encountering difficulty crossing the thoroughfare.
 
The woman was heavily pregnant, her footing unsure as she dragged a foot out of the sucking mud and attempted to set it down in front of her.

Intuition told Angela the woman wasn't going to make it across without taking a nasty spill.
 
She looked around to see if anyone else out and about, but the street was deserted.

"Stay there!" she called out to the woman.
 
"I'm coming to help you."

Despite the treacherous footing, Angela reached the woman's side, placed an arm around her ample waist and held her steady as they crossed the street together.

"Thank you," the woman said gratefully.
 
"I shouldn't have attempted to cross the street but I wanted to see my father before my husband and I returned to our ranch.
 
I'm Delia Poppins.
 
You're new in town, aren't you?"