Tom's Angel (9 page)

Lizzy nodded tiredly.
Her eyes fluttered closed. Immediately she fell into a deep sleep, groaning softly with the pain.

Rosalie left the room
and closed the door behind her. Sadie saw her and came straight away.

“
Is she gonna be all right, Rosie? I swear, if I had the guts, I'd take a horsewhip to that man and show him what it feels like to be cut up and crumpled like a paper doll.”

“
She still doesn't know she's lost the use of that hand, and I don't want her to know, understand?”

Sadie nodded.
“Is she gonna be able to walk again?”

“
I don't know. A lot of the muscles were cut. It'll take a long time for them to knit together so she can put weight on that leg.”

“
The first leg he cut ain't all that strong. This one's worse, for sure.”

“
Just don't tell her how bad off she is. She's going to Denver with me. I'll be able to nurse her back to health there. I'll take care of her the rest of her life.”

Tears shone in Sadie's eyes.
“You're the dearest, sweetest sister any woman could have. I'll check on her from time to time. Don't you worry now. I'll see that she sips some broth when she wakes up.”

“
And whiskey. Give her more whiskey. It'll dull the pain and keep her asleep. She needs to sleep.”

“
I'll see to it. You get some rest now, too, hear me? We can't have both of you sick.”

“
Thanks. I'll be back in a while to check on her.”

Sadie motioned down the hall, toward the back door.
“That young man has come back. He's a dandy, for sure, but riled about something. You be careful, now.”

Rosalie couldn't imagine what had Tom so angry.
She could see it in his face, red and tense, and in the way he stood, feet apart as though he were about to draw a gun.

“
Tom, what's wrong?”

“
Not here.” He turned and walked toward her house.

She followed, chiding herself for not going with him and her father to see the horses.
No telling what her father had said or done to infuriate Tom this much.

Once in the kitchen, he whirled around and almost shouted at her.
“You're going to Denver to live with Zane Strickland?”

So that was it.
Paw had told him about the card game.

“
I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be angry.”

“
You're damn right I'm angry! Did you expect me to take you to Denver and hand you over to that animal? Hell, Rosalie, you might as well ask me to...”

His breathing, so loud in the small, close room, sounded like a wind storm.

“
To what?”

Tom didn't stop until he stood within a foot of her.
His voice dropped to a dangerously low level that burned through her like a shot of straight whiskey. His hands gripped her arms painfully.

“
You might as well ask me to watch him rape you and beat you and cut you up, just like he did Lizzy. Don't you know that's what he'll do to you?”

“
Zane Strickland cut Lizzy?” Rosalie clamped her hands over her ears. “It isn't true! It can’t be true!” She fled from the room, panicked.

Zane Strickland.
That night at the card table, he’d had blood on his sleeve. Lizzy's blood. No, it couldn't be! Knowing what he'd done, her father still used her as a bet in the game?

Calm.
She had to be calm. So she could think. Think what to do. Oh, God, what was she going to do?

She collapsed on
to a chair, trembling, sobbing, terrified of what lay ahead of her in Denver, terrified of facing a hell even worse than the one she lived in now.

Tom pulled her up into his arms.

Frantic, she flailed at him, beating her fists against his chest, trying to push him away, as though denying what he'd said could somehow obliterate the reality of what she faced, now that Zane Strickland owned her, body and soul.

Tom clamped her tighter against him, cursing himself for having shouted the truth and his deepest fears at her.
William Kincannon ought to be the one facing Strickland's fists and knife. Not Rosalie. Not this woman.

“
Rosalie, I'm sorry! I won't let him hurt you, I promise! Rosalie, please.”

Her eyes pleaded with him to say it wasn’t true.
He pressed his mouth against hers, wanting to erase the pain he'd inflicted, wanting to ease her fear, wanting somehow to change everything.               He wanted...her.

Rosalie's panic dissolved when Tom kissed her.
Fear gave way to desire. She clung to him, wanting to ignore reality, if only for one blissfully free moment. Feelings foreign and intoxicating streamed through her. She couldn't hold him tightly enough, kiss him hard enough. His fingers combed through her hair, and his hands pressed her against him until she could feel the shape of him.

Abruptly, he pulled back,
with his eyes tightly shut, his mouth still open, breathing hard.

She waited for him to open his eyes.
What did she see there? Tenderness. Fear. Regret.

“
Rosalie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

She pressed one finger to his lips.
Her whole life, she'd promised her mother she'd never do what Elizabeth had done. She'd die before she'd sell her body. But this was different.

What had she felt just now?
She had to know. There was only one way could she find out.

She
stood on tiptoes and gently, lightly, pressed her lips to his again.

Startled beyond words or logic, Tom refused to question what she'd done.
With gratitude that he hadn't alienated her, desire building in him again, he tasted her lips, felt her tremble, pulled her closer and found her willing and eager.

Rosalie trembled with passion welling deep within her soul, newborn and fragile, helpless and starving.
Tom met every need and filled her with warmth and comfort. No, what she felt wasn't comfort. What she felt couldn’t be named or explained, yet she desperately wanted to go on feeling it.

When their lips parted, it was he who trembled.

“I'll find a way...” he promised.

Chapter 7

Two days!
Tom had sent the wire to his father two days ago, and no answer in all that time. You'd think he'd mailed him a letter, it was taking so long to get a reply. Finally, though, Josh had come running to tell him a wire had arrived for him.

Tom went immediately and scanned the message before re-reading it carefully.
Not what he'd hoped for. Exactly what he'd feared.

              <><><><>

At the dance hall, Rosalie carefully bathed Lizzy's face with cool water. Her eyes, still swollen, seemed a little better. The black had turned to a musty yellow around the edges. The other eye seemed different, somehow. Rosalie had a bad feeling about that left eye.

“
My hand hurts something awful this morning, Rosie. I think the bandage is too tight. My fingers are throbbing 'til I can't think of nothing else.”

She hadn't improved enough to hear the truth about that hand.
Rosalie almost counted it a blessing the other arm had been cut. Bandaged all the way to her fingers, she couldn't explore with her good hand and discover nothing but a gnarled claw where her left hand used to be.

“
We'll give you more tea to help the pain. Isn't the tea helping?”

“
For a while. Then the pain comes back. He must have broken that hand. I guess I shouldn't have scratched him the way I did. But he was beating me in the face, Rosie! I had to do something or he would've killed me, sure.”

Rosalie tried not to let the rage swelling within her show in her voice.
Lizzy couldn't handle the truth yet. When she'd be able to, no one knew. And where she'd live in Denver still hadn't been settled, even though Tom had promised a place for her. The McCabes had been in Denver a long time and had many friends there. But friends willing to take a crippled bawd?

She wouldn't think about it right now.
Couldn't think about it without despairing. She'd have to depend on Tom to find a way. For both of them.

“
I can barely see you, Rosie, with only one eye. The other must still be swollen shut.”

But it wasn't.
She'd actually managed to get both eyes open. What Rosalie saw in that other eye made her stomach knot with nausea. The eyeball had been punctured. Crumpled like a wad of paper, it lay in the socket, black and festering.

Dear God, he'd not only ruined her hand, he'd taken her eye, too.

“
What's wrong, Rosie? You're staring at me like something's bad wrong.” She raised her right hand toward her face.

Rosalie gently pressed her arm back to the cot.
“Don't worry. The doctor is coming by this afternoon to see you. We'll see what he thinks about that swollen eye.”

“
It's still swollen, then. That's why I can't see nothing out of it?”

“
I suspect that's the reason. You rest now. I'll be back in just a little while.”

Out in the hallway, she slumped against the wall for a moment and closed her eyes, willing the truth away for only a few minutes.
But it remained, cold and ruthless. Lizzy might be able to walk again, but not for a long time. Without the use of her left hand and blind in one eye, she had no future Rosalie could see. Not even the cribs for Lizzy. Rosalie had once believed the cribs were as low as a human could sink. But Lizzy had been taken to a level lower still.

Tom came in the back door.
“Let's go to your house. I hate this place.”

In the
Kincannon home, Rosalie mixed some citrus crystals with water and made lemonade. There wasn't any ice, so they had to drink it warm.

“
I heard from my father. He's going to talk to Richard Strickland, to see if something can be worked out.”

A spark of hope kindled inside her.
“Like what?”

“
Don't know. Richard is going to retire from the bank. He has two sons, Zane and Trey. Zane has the brains to be a banker, but never showed any interest in the bank. Trey has worked alongside Richard for the past five years, but he doesn't think Trey is ruthless enough to be President of the Bank.”

“
Interesting criteria.”

“
Richard thinks, by putting Zane in as President, it'll turn him into a decent man. He's hoping Trey will get to be more like Zane by working under him.”

“
Zane Strickland could never be decent.” Their silence stood as agreement. “Lizzy is blind in one eye, has a useless hand, and she won't ever walk normally again. It would've been kinder if he'd killed her.”

“
Don't say that, Rosalie. She's your sister. She has a right to live.”

“
Yes. A right to live. We all should have that right.”

Nothing Tom could say would make things better.
One thing he could do, though. He held his arms open for her.

She came immediately, but without tears this time.

Kincannon came in the back door. “What's going on here? I swear, I can't leave you two alone for a minute.” A lecherous grin stretched his cracked lips. “You got yourself a feller, ain't you, Rosie? I knew someday you'd find one.” His grin leveled out when he saw Tom's expression.

“
Mr. Kincannon, have you seen the condition your other daughter is in?”

“
Lizzy? She's beat up purty bad, but, far as I can tell, she's mending.”

“
She's blind in one eye, Paw. Strickland ruined her eyeball when he hit her. And you saw what he did to her hand. She scratched him, trying to defend herself, and he stomped her hand with the heel of his boot.”

Kincannon
gave no reaction to what he'd heard.

Tom approached him slowly.
“You've stood by and watched your daughter almost killed, and done nothing, felt nothing. You bet your other daughter in a card game with the man responsible, and you still seem to feel nothing. Can you honestly tell me you aren't worried about what Strickland is bound to do to Rosalie once she's in Denver, within constant reach?”

Kincannon
shrugged. “Ain't my problem anymore. She belongs to him now. I reckon he can do what he wants with her, since she's his property.”

Tom's fist caught
Kincannon squarely on the jaw before the words were hardly out of his mouth. He spat blood and one tooth into his hand, and didn't offer to fight back.

“
You're worse than Strickland.” Tom took Rosalie's hand and led her outside.

“
Where are we going?”

“
I won't let you stay here. I'll get you a room at the El Paso. I don't want you anywhere near that sorry bastard.”

“
Tom, he's my father.”

Tom whirled, grasped her arms and peered into her eyes.
“He's willing to give you to a monster, without thinking twice about it. After you leave here, you'll probably never see him again. Can you tell me you still care for him, after what he's done to you?”

She hesitated.
Tom had no way of knowing about her mother. If he knew, he might understand better, but now wasn't the time to tell him the whole story. He'd just have to trust her.

“
He's my father. What I feel for him may not be love, but that doesn't change my being his daughter.”

“
Rosalie—”

“
Listen, Tom. I know what you're saying, and you're right. If I could change who or what my father is or what he's become, I would. But he's never going to change. All my life, I've tried to rise above what it means to be William Kincannon's daughter. I've tried to find something decent and proper—yes, proper—within the context of this vile place. Don't you see? Turning my back on my father would mean lowering myself to his level. It's something I must never—no, something I will never do. I will not abandon him as he has abandoned me.”

Tom's grip on her had relaxed
while she spoke until his hands lay warm and gentle on her arms.

He touched her cheek, then slipped his fingers behind her neck, loving the way her hair, soft and shiny, caressed his hand.
He'd never met a woman like her in all his life. Integrity. Honesty. Character. He felt guilty asking her to betray those principles.

It startled him when she pressed her lips to his, but he recovered instantly and pulled her against him, loving the way
their bodies fit against together.

Rosalie knew she shouldn't kiss Tom without his initiating the kiss first, but he didn't protest or pull away.
He held her closer, rubbing her back in big, lazy circles, gripping her neck, running his fingers through her hair until she tingled head to toe, all the time loving the intimacy of their mouths joined.

She ended the kiss reluctantly.
They were standing in the open, where anyone could see. For once in her life, being proper shouldn't matter. Yet, it did. It had to.

“
Tom, this isn't right.”

“
It felt awfully right to me.”

“
We're in plain sight of anyone who cares to look this way.”

“
You're worried about that?”

“
Of course. Remember where we are!”

He understood.
“You're still afraid they'll think you're one of the Yellow Rose girls, is that it?” Tom lifted her chin and kissed her lightly. “We'll be leaving the minute Lizzy can travel. It makes no difference what anyone thinks after that.”

How could she tell him it meant everything to her, to be sure that she would be remembered
“
properly
.” She smiled at the word.

“
What is it? What made you smile?”

“
You did. Kiss me again.”

“
Yes, ma'am.”

It took a moment to realize Sadie was standing at the corner of the house, watching.

“See?” Rosalie grinned at Tom, then turned to Sadie. “What is it? Lizzy?”

“
No, Rosie. It's that dandy again. We just heard from a cowboy that he's out of jail, yelling about how foul the place was, heading for The Rose.”

“
How did he get out this fast?”

“
Marshal fined him two hundred dollars. He wired his paw for the money, and now he's out and looking for you, Mr. McCabe, with revenge in his craw. Says you're gonna pay for him having to spend time in that filthy jail.”

“
The businesses within two blocks on every side complain constantly about the stench. I'm surprised he didn't feel right at home there.” Rosalie took Tom's hand and squeezed his fingers. “What are we going to do?”

“
Face him. If we were in Denver, he'd never try anything against the McCabes. Being away from home has loosened his tongue. I'll have to remind him how things are.”

“
Please, Tom, don't fight him.”

Sadie shook her head vigorously at that.
“He don't fight fair, that one. We've got the door to Lizzy's room barred from the inside.”              

“
That's good.”

Tom gave her hand a squeeze.
“Don’t follow me, please. I don't want to worry about you when I face Strickland.”

She understood.
“I promise I won’t get in the way.”

Tom headed for the dance hall.
In only a few weeks, Zane Strickland would be their banker. In the wire, Amos had said, “Don't rile him.” Well, Zane was riled. No changing that. Maybe Tom could trick him into doing something the marshal would take more seriously. Accomplishing that without getting hurt, or losing his temper and doing something foolish, presented the biggest challenge.

Tom found Zane at the bar, draining a glass of rot gut, pouring a refill.

“Strickland, you aren't welcome here. I suggest you move on to one of the other halls.”

Zane turned slowly.
The scratches on his right cheek had festered. Even at this distance, he reeked of the jail. His eyes, bloodshot and half closed with drunkenness, focused on Tom, then glazed with hatred.

“
Just who are you to be telling me where I'm welcome?”

“
After what you've done here, I expected you to move on to new places, new victims.”

“
Did she die?”

“
Might as well have.”

“
Stupid bitch deserved what she got. You see what she did to me?” He turned his head to give Tom a better view at the oozing scratches.

“
Not a fraction of what you deserved.”

Zane's lips pressed into a thin line, then eased.
Unexpectedly, he laughed. “I do believe you've gotten to be a whore lover since I saw you last, McCabe. I knew you weren't as upstanding as your sorry paw leads everyone to believe. Why, I'll bet he introduced you to your first whore.”