16

Angie knew she’d as good as shot a flaming arrow into the middle of the Boden family.

She had to do it. Riding out here alone, on that contrary horse, was terrifying, but she’d waited until the orphanage had settled down for the night, then snuck away, telling no one. She knew Aunt Margaret would have forbidden it. Yet the Bodens needed to know without delay. Speed and secrecy were both vital. And now she had to get back. Hopefully Aunt Margaret would never know about her dangerous decision to ride off alone at night.

The ride home was just as threatening, but Angie hoped to be tucked in bed in the morning with Aunt Margaret none the wiser. She also knew what she might face with the Bodens if she rode off alone. An escort, of course, and most likely it would be Justin.

The memory of the kiss they’d shared was like a living thing inside her. Her desire to be loved and, even more, to be taken care of was strong. She’d spent her whole life handing her care over to others, and she was finished with that. She couldn’t be the woman God wanted her to be without standing on her own two feet. She’d promised God she would find her own strength, the strength He gave everyone to be a person of faith instead of a weakling who did as she was told, even when it was sin.

And while Edward was a cruel man with words, he wasn’t physically strong. Mostly he ignored her. Still, she’d found a way to survive and be a faithful Christian, quietly, within a marriage she was too weak to refuse.

With Justin, the strongest man she’d ever known, she would never find her own backbone. Learn her own mind. Stand up for herself. And one more ride with Justin might seal her fate and put her into his keeping. Something she wanted more than she feared, but she hadn’t impressed herself with her wisdom.

When Rosita came in with her talk of rebels, everyone’s attention was riveted. Rosita paced toward the fireplace and all eyes were on her. Angie took this moment to slip silently away.

She was careful to walk as silently as she could down the hallway to the kitchen. She was a woman who had spent most of her life trying to avoid the notice of her mother and then later her husband. She could move quietly.

The kitchen door opened and closed without a creak. She was in the saddle, careful not to gallop, even though the back of her neck itched as if the hairs were standing straight up, urging her to run to the safety of the orphanage. A galloping horse would only draw attention and she’d be caught in minutes. Also, she’d probably fall off.

Once she was out of the ranch yard she tried speeding the horse up, but there was such a terrible bouncing that she immediately went back to walking. It was an old mare, after all, the horse that pulled Aunt Margaret’s buggy. It was in no way a speedy creature, so the walk suited them both, except for her desire to get home quickly.

The darkness increased, pressing down on her like falling stones. She remembered why Justin made her dismount and walk when he’d ridden home with her. Gunmen might be lying in wait. The horses would shield them on both sides.

Though she hadn’t reached that narrow stretch yet, she felt those rifles now, aimed right at her. The man who’d shot Maria could be aiming at her right now.

Then she heard hoofbeats behind her . . . gaining fast. Her fear of imagined things turned to terror. This was real. Her heart pounded and she fought to breathe. She kicked her mare to that terrible shaking pace and clung for her life.

Those attacking the Bodens might think she was a danger to their plans, just as they must have thought Maria was. Terrified that she would meet her end alone in the dark, she leaned lower and urged her poor mare to a greater speed.

The hooves thundered, drawing closer.

Why had she done this reckless thing? Aunt Margaret would mourn. She’d never know if the promise hinted at in Justin’s kiss would grow into something real. She’d never prove to God she could be the woman He had created her to be.

The hooves were upon her now. A dark arm reached over and caught her horse’s reins. She whimpered as much as any helpless prey, and her horse was pulled to a halt.

“What are you doing, woman?”

Her terror turned to relief so quickly that it left her feeling dizzy.

Justin!

She glanced sideways at him. He was furious. In the cold, his breath came as a white cloud and for a moment she thought of a fire-breathing dragon swooping down from the sky.

She’d never been so happy to be captured by a dragon in her life. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from throwing herself into his arms. But his ferocious glare helped keep her back.

It was then she realized how many times her husband had looked at her with anger and how she’d cringed and tried to dodge his cutting words. Never once had she considered throwing herself into his arms.

With Justin she felt no need to cringe, no need to placate. Not because he wasn’t going to yell at her—he very likely was—but because his words, even if harsh, weren’t going to cut away at her soul.

She wasn’t quite sure how she did it, but all of a sudden she was in his arms. Sitting in his lap.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

She braced herself for the scolding of her life. And considering her ma and husband, that was saying something.

Justin’s head dropped forward. It felt too heavy to hold upright. In fact, his forehead rested against hers when he asked, “Angie, what am I going to do with you?”

She pulled back and looked at him. Blue eyes caught the starlight and gleamed at him. She seemed scared . . . scared of him? Scared of riding alone in the night? When she flung her arms around his neck, he decided it was the long, dark ride.

He held her close, just let her cling to him and calm down. He had to get her back to the ranch. Turning his horse, with hers in tow, he didn’t ask if heading for the CR was all right with her. She’d demand to be taken home just as soon as her head cleared, so he hoped it didn’t clear anytime soon.

The feel of her in his arms jostled a few words loose. “I think, Miss Angelique DuPree,” he began, sounding very formal, “you are going to have to let me come a-courtin’.”

Those blue eyes blinked, then focused strictly on him. Then his words soaked in, her eyes widened, and she shook her head. Saying no.

A sharp change from the lively confidence he’d been feeling, even as he spoke of courting a woman who would be helpless on a ranch.

“Justin, I can’t. I promised God I’d learn to stand on my own. I’d stop letting others rule my life and try to become the woman He made me and live as He wished. Live the best Christian life I could.”

None of that made much sense to Justin. “You can live a good Christian life while you’re courting me, Angie. I’m a believer.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”

Since he’d guessed wrong the first time, Justin just waited. He had time. They were still a fair stretch away from the ranch.

It occurred to him then what she was fretting about. “Is this about your first husband?”

She looked away, not meeting his gaze for the first time since he’d caught up with her. Which he took to mean that he’d guessed right.

“You can tell me all about that low-down coyote if you want, and I can promise you I’ll never act like he did. Then you can—”

Angie covered his mouth with her fingertips to stop him. Both of his brows arched in surprise.

“Yes, my reasons for wanting to discover some strength inside of myself has to do with him, and also my mother.”

Justin waited in silence.

“Edward had all the polish and grace of the finest of wealthy citizens.”

While Justin wore broadcloth and denim and buckskin.

“I had none of that, so he and my mother worked as a team to try to make me presentable in society.” Her hand left his mouth and traced a line from beneath his eye to his chin.

“Your mother, too?”

“Yes, she raised me to say, ‘Yes, Mother,’ and say it quickly. I never had a thought of my own, at least not one I was allowed to speak.”

“You seem to speak your mind to me.”

She gave him a shy smile. “I’ve had the same thought myself. You’ve scolded me and fussed at me, but you don’t pick away at my soul.”

“What?”

Angie reached up and rubbed a gentle finger across his forehead. “You get furrows here when you worry. Did what I say worry you?”

“It’s an unusual thing to say—I don’t pick away at your soul?”

“I’ve watched Aunt Margaret scold the children at school.”

Justin chuckled. “Sadie said she’s mighty stern.”

“Oh, yes, she is. But when she scolds there’s kindness behind it. She tells the children to lower their voices, but she wouldn’t tell them their voices are ugly. She will scold them for not finishing a school lesson, but she won’t tell them they are stupid. Whatever correction she gives them is always backed by her—her—” Angie’s voice broke.

Justin knew exactly the word she was searching for. The word she’d never found from her mother. “It’s always backed by her love?”

Angie pressed her face against Justin’s chest and managed a tiny nod of agreement. A young woman agreeing that her mother didn’t love her. A terrible thing.

Angie turned her face so she rested her cheek against his chest. “I remember Aunt Margaret coming for a visit once, back in Omaha, years ago. She is my father’s sister. It was then that Mother told her so rudely to call me Angelique, and only that.”

“That name’s a mouthful.”

“If she ever slipped and said ‘Angie,’ Mother corrected her. By the end of the week, Aunt Margaret called me Angelique without fail. Her visit came while Father was alive and we lived in lavish style. With servants and fine food and the best clothing. Aunt Margaret made such a long trip, but I think she missed us and just wanted to be reminded she had family. Mother treated her like she was poor relation, as if her nun’s habit was an embarrassment. Near the end, Aunt Margaret spoke of her orphanage and asked if we’d be interested in donating to it.”

“I’d guess that didn’t go well.”

With a tiny shake of her head, Angie said, “There we sat in our fine drawing room, with our silk dresses and delicate china, with servants all around. Mother acted as if Aunt Margaret were a beggar on the street. Mother as good as threw her out of our house.” She looked up at Justin and pressed her open hand on his chest, right over his heart. “Even after that, she still wrote to us over the years, always kind letters, full of faith and encouragement and love, but she never visited again. Can you understand how I never dreamed I could go to her when my husband died?”

“A lot of folks would’ve been done with your family after that.” Justin noticed that he’d asked about her husband but Angie had talked only of her mother. Was her mother the worst part of the story or was she unable to talk about her husband? Maybe she still grieved. Even if he’d left her in poor circumstances, it didn’t mean she hadn’t loved him. Maybe that was what stood between her and saying she was interested in having him come calling.

Of course, she was in his arms and didn’t seem to mind. So he hoped he could get past any other reasons she had for not welcoming his attentions.

The horses’ hooves clopped along, hollow and quiet in the moonlight. The winter breeze had no bite at the moment. As he rode, he considered what Angie had said. Was he foolish to try to get to know her better? A man with all his troubles, who really wanted to protect a woman, would tell her to stay as far away as she could, at least until there was no more threat.

“So when her letter arrived asking if I’d come out and work for her, it was like I held a miracle in my hands. God had answered my prayers, had noticed my struggles out of all those who suffered in the world.”

Justin hugged her tight. “You had a rough life, Angie, but things are good for you now. I’m the one who shouldn’t be thinking of courting. You know Pa had his leg badly broken?”

“Yes, I heard about that. He’s in Denver under the care of a special doctor.”

“Well, when Pa was hurt, it was mighty serious—men can die from a break where the bone cuts through the skin. Ma was at his side caring for him, as was Sadie. Ma left Sadie alone with him, when out of nowhere Pa told her he’d changed his will. He’d planned for the changes after his death, but because his injury was so dangerous, he said he was going to enforce those changes from the minute he left for the doctor. He told her, and we read it in writing later, that we all had to move home to the CR. I was already there, but Cole lived in his own house in Skull Gulch and ran the family’s mining operation. And Sadie lived with Cole and worked at the orphanage.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Can a man order his children to move home?”

“No, but he can leave his ranch and mines and all his money to a low-down cousin if they don’t.”

Angie gasped just a bit, and her arms tightened around him as if to lend him support.

“The only way to keep the CR after Pa’s death—and he’d gone off to Denver in very fragile condition, so his death could have happened at any time—was for Sadie and Cole to move home to the CR that very day.”

“I’m sorry to say it, Justin, but your father sounds like a complete tyrant.”

“I can see that it sounds that way, but my pa only wanted us to appreciate the ranch left to us by Grandfather Chastain, my ma’s father. Pa was always saying Grandfather Chastain died on this land, his blood soaked into the very soil. He’d given his life fighting to save it for his daughter, and now that legacy was carried on by Pa and Ma. But Pa didn’t think we appreciated it enough. He wanted us to be closer to each other and to our birthright, the Cimarron Ranch. He wanted us to love the land and our heritage.”

“That’s why Sadie quit at the orphanage. All I ever heard was that she was needed at home. But it opened the door for me to come west.”

Justin rested his chin on top of her head and was silent for a moment. Then he said almost reverently, “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Pa’s threat to disinherit us brought you here.”

“He saved me from a terrible life.”

A life that had left her bone-thin, wearing a dress that was in tatters, without an ounce of strength left in her.

It came to Justin, a verse he’d heard, something about all things working together for good for believers. It was humbling to remember how defiant he’d been about Pa’s edict. He sure hadn’t taken a moment to appreciate it, for heaven’s sake. And he’d never for one second wondered about what good could be done for someone else, someone far away, cold and hungry in Omaha.

What Pa had set in motion brought this woman into Justin’s life, whom he cared for more every day.

And if he pushed and sweet-talked her, he was pretty sure he could talk Angie into joining her life to his. Which was how it should end up if a woman took to sitting for long rides in a man’s arms—which would leave him with a ranch wife who didn’t know the kicking end of a horse from the biting end, and at the same time plunge her into deadly danger.

He thought of the note marking Sadie as bait and how Heath’s name had been added to that list.

Angie’s name would go on there as well the minute anyone knew they were involved, because Heath’s had been added before he married Sadie. And Angie could be used as bait just as surely as Sadie. What might a man do if the woman he was courting was kidnapped and held on threat of death if that man didn’t hand over his land?

He needed to get her away from him, and keep her away. And he’d tell her that just as soon as he wasn’t carrying her home on his lap.