Angel Gone Bad (3 page)

R
une glanced at Angel as he flicked the reins against the back of a chestnut gelding. She sat stiffly beside him in the buggy he'd rented especially for her comfort. They'd left Dennison behind, but he could still hardly believe she'd come with him without a bigger fight. It spoke to his persuasiveness, threat if he wanted to be honest with himself, or her guilt. Maybe both. Either way, he had what he wanted. Now he could move on with his plans.

He watched the sun slowly sink in the west as he followed a rutted road that meandered south of the Red River. No time to make Delaware Bend before nightfall. Just as well. He needed to be alone with Angel to prepare her.

As he drove, he kept an eye out for a likely place to make camp before dark. Near the town of Cedar Mills, famous for its racetrack, he saw a thick clump of mesquite trees that looked good. He'd prefer to take Angel into town and stay in a hotel, but he didn't want either of them to be seen.

He turned off the road, maneuvered around spreading tree limbs, and stopped so the horse and buggy were hidden from passersby.

“What are we doing here?”

“Good place to camp for the night.”

“Just the two of us?”

He caught the anxiety in her words. At twenty-nine, he had enough experience to understand it. She was alone with a desperate man who had nothing to lose. He gently took hold of her chin and turned her face so she could look into his eyes and see the truth. “For tonight, the only game I want you to play is poker.”

She jerked her chin loose. “I prefer not to handle cards.” She glanced down at her hands, clenching her fists.

“Is it your religion? Some people don't hold with gambling.”

“I'd rather not play card games.”

“Your druthers don't matter.” He didn't have time for missish-ness. “I need you to play poker and play it well.”

She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “If I handle cards for you, whatever happens, it's on your head.”

“I get it. You're afraid of losing money. Don't worry. I'll take full responsibility.”

“No, you don't understand.” Angel glanced at him, eyes the color of deep water. “I've never played poker and I have no desire to learn.”

“I'll teach you everything you need to know.” He caught her tantalizing scent of lavender. “If you hadn't read so long to those ladies, I'd have more time to teach you.”

“They were most appreciative.”

“I can be as appreciative as you like.” He felt a sudden urge to forget poker and everything else except stripping off Angel's clothes and melting all her reservations.

“Forget it! I'm here under duress. It'd be bad enough if the Bonham Female Academy Board of Directors ever found out I'm writing dime novels. But playing poker with outlaws? I'm an author and an educator. I have a certain reputation to maintain.”

“That's right.” His frustration made him harsh. “
Angel the Ace.
Rumor has it guys beg for more even after you've taken their last dime.”

“Maybe you should write novels, too. You certainly have a talent for hyperbole.”

“No jokes. We're going to deal with bad hombres. As long as you're useful to them, you'll stay alive. If you get out of line, I'll only have so much control.”

“Rune, let's stop this game right now. I apologized. You're out of prison. I don't have much money, but I can pay you back over time for what I cost you.”

“On a teacher's salary? Dime novels? You won't live so long. And I sure as hell won't wait.” He reached out and ran the tip of one finger slowly down her face, taking pleasure in the soft warmth of her skin. Now that he had her in his power, he had to stoke his righteous anger against his damn fool desire to kiss and make up.

She tossed her head, dislodging his hand. “I remember when you were a gentleman.”

“That was a lifetime ago. I'm an outlaw now.”

He felt a surge of satisfaction when he saw the sympathy and guilt in her eyes. Maybe she wasn't totally without honor. Threats worked, but empathy could turn a woman's heart to your cause. He needed every trick in the book to win. Threats and manipulation didn't come naturally to him, but he'd do what he had to do and live with the consequences.

“If you don't want money, I'll go to Judge Parker's court in Fort Smith and say that I was mistaken about you and the horses. That'll help clear your name, won't it?”

He felt a raw surge of anger at her words and doubled his fists to keep from shaking some sense into her. “Too late. Those three horses
were
stolen, but not by me. Now
I've
served time. I've got a record. None of that disappears with the snap of your fingers.”

“Honestly, I didn't know about those horses. I thought you'd spend an uncomfortable night in jail before they released you.”

“That's what you say now.”

“I was confused. Zip Rankin scared the daylights out of me.”

“If I hadn't rescued you from that outlaw, we wouldn't be here now.”

“But we are. Let's ask my brother Rafe, the Deputy U.S. Marshal, to help.”

“No. I've got other plans for you.” He grasped her shoulders, pulling her toward him, and heard her quick intake of breath. Fear, anger, passion? He felt it all, so why not her?

She pulled back. “I can't learn to play poker so fast.”

“You'd better.” He saw her raise her chin in defiance and couldn't help but admire her courage. “We'll stay up all night if that's what it takes.”

“I'm better with words than numbers.”

“How does a marked deck sound?”

She rubbed her forehead, as if in pain. “Not only do you want me to play poker, but you want me to cheat, too?”

“Every card sharp knows how to cheat so he can spot a cheater.”

“You're not leaving me any choice, are you?”

“No. Let's set up camp and get you in class.” He pointed toward a picnic basket. “Supper's in there. Café in Dennison packed it.”

Rune stepped out of the buggy, turned, and held out his arms to help her down. She hesitated, her expression cautious, and then put her hands on his shoulders. It felt so right for her to touch him. But that was the damn fool part of him talking, the part that had lusted after her for so long. Trouble was, despite what she'd done to him, he still wanted her.

When he put his hands around her small waist, she felt like every steamy dream on his prison bed. He wanted to crush her to him and blot out the past. But that wouldn't solve his problems. He carefully set her down and let go.

“Get the food and the quilt. I'll get wood for a campfire.”

As he picked up mesquite branches, he thought about all the things he couldn't tell Angel. First, he was a man on the run. When the Verdigris Gang had broken out of prison, he'd escaped with them. Second, he'd been an undercover detective when she'd met him and now he was deeper undercover.

He had to stay one step ahead of federal lawmen, but also the Anti–Horse Thief Association because he was listed in their black book as a rogue vigilante. Of the two, the highly respected AHTA with thousands of members across several states was more dangerous to his freedom.

The AHTA was a secret organization, but any man over eighteen and of good character and public standing could join. A widow could keep her husband's membership. Individuals paid annual dues of ten cents, received protection from thieves, and helped others in the association.

Strictly honorable and legal means were used to obtain justice. If a member's horse was stolen, he reported it to his local AHTA president. Authorities and other chapters were notified by telegraph. Once the robber's trail was found, two AHTA members and the owner of the horse would have their expenses paid while in pursuit. Nonmembers could receive help, but they paid for the service.

When Rune had rescued Angel, he had been working for the AHTA, the Cherokee, and the Choctaw to locate the Badger Gang's leader.

The Badgers were horse thieves and murderers. Individuals couldn't stand against them. Deputy U.S. Marshals hadn't been able to stop them. Federal law prohibited Indian Lighthorsemen from pursuing them.

The Choctaw Nation and Arkansas shared the Ouachita Mountains, a favorite hideout and trail for outlaws. The Cherokee Nation shared borders with Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas, where stolen horses were driven into Indian Territory. From there, the horses were sold in Texas.

Finally, a Choctaw leader and a Cherokee leader had joined forces with an AHTA president to put a stop to the elusive Badger Gang. Rune had been hired for the job, but he also had a personal interest in seeing justice done. The Badgers had repeatedly stolen from his family's sprawling farm in Kansas.

There was one catch. No one except the three leaders would know that Rune was an undercover detective. If he ran into trouble, they wouldn't back him up due to legal consequences. He was on his own.

All had gone as planned until he'd rescued Angel and bought stolen horses from the Zip Rankin Gang. He'd hoped the purchase would gain him entry to the Badger Gang. Instead, Angel had turned him in to the law and he'd gone to jail.

Now he'd decided to make the best of a bad situation. If he could find the Badger leader, join up, and bring the gang to justice, he'd complete his job and clear his name. If he couldn't and he was caught, he'd be back behind bars with no help from anybody. He was taking a big chance, but he still lived by the AHTA motto:
Protect the innocent. Bring the guilty to justice.

Angel was no innocent. She was guilty as hell. And he was bringing her to justice . . . his own way.

“Y
ou're good,” Rune said, amazement coloring his voice. “Are you sure you haven't played before?”

“Never.” Angel examined the three aces and two jacks she'd just spread out on the quilt. She curled her fingers into fists to avoid the lure of touching them again. “I avoid card games.”

“Don't know why.”

“I have my reasons.” She glanced toward the east and the first rays of the rising sun. It looked like her long night was finally coming to a close. Her loving mother must be turning over in her grave now that her darling daughter was touching cards again.

“You're a quick study. If you can hold your nerve, I'd stake you against most anybody.”

“Guess you're a good teacher.”

“You've got the right touch, the right memory for cards.”

“I simply create stories around them as a way of remembering the ones played.” She smiled sweetly as she lied through her teeth.

“What?”

“Kings are railway tycoons or cattle barons. Queens are society ladies or dance hall darlings. Jacks are gunslingers or cowboys.” She glanced up to see if Rune actually bought her ridiculous story.

“That's so complicated nobody will ever be able to read your tell.”

“I don't have one.”

He chuckled. “Everybody does. Some are just better at concealing it than others.”

“What's yours? And mine?”

“If you don't know by now, I'm not telling you.”

She shrugged. He couldn't read her tell because she would never have one. On the other hand, his blue eyes darkened when he received a good card. He couldn't control that tell. Perhaps in a poorly lit saloon nobody could see it. But she knew, so she stored that bit of vulnerability away for future use.

He picked up the cards, stacked, and shuffled them.

She itched to tear them from his hands and hold them to her heart. “I need new clothes.”

“Why?”

“This is my Angelica the Author look. Angel the Ace needs a different one.”

“And Crystabelle Morgan appears as a prim and proper teacher.”

“Right. If I weren't a novelist, I'm not sure I could keep all these personas straight. But they're necessary. If anybody from my teacher world saw me playing poker or promoting dime novels, I'd lose my job, my reputation, and my friends.”

“I'll spring for new clothes. There's a dry goods store in Cedar Mills. I doubt it'll have much choice, but I guess you ought to change before we introduce you in Delaware Bend.”

“I'll make something work for the Ace.”

Rune chuckled. “Bet you will. You want to get some sleep before we go?”

“I'd like nothing better.”

He glanced up at the sky, obviously checking the position of the sun for the time of day. “Go ahead. I'll keep watch.”

“Thanks.”

Angel curled onto her side and closed her eyes. She wasn't doing her fancy gown any good, but at least she'd taken off her blond wig. It'd been an unbelievably taxing day and night. Relaxation felt like heaven. Maybe she shouldn't have, but she'd fallen back into the old comfort of being with Rune. He made her feel safe, even though she knew she couldn't trust him. Yet she did believe he'd protect her as long as he needed her.

As tired as she felt, sleep eluded her. Thoughts swirled through her mind, keeping her awake. She couldn't dally with Rune too long, only long enough to satisfy his goal. Now that he'd added cards to the mix, she had to limit their time together even more. And somehow she had to resist the siren song of the cards even as she touched their sweet faces.

Fortunately, it was July and she was out of school for the summer. But she had scheduled readings for
Sweet Rescue in the Indian Territory.

Yet none of that was as important as Verity Whiteside's trouble. Angel's former student was an orphan, receiving a good education as a charity case at Bonham Female Academy. Verity had studied hard, worked at the school for her room and board, and graduated to become Angel's assistant.

Angel had liked the smart, spunky Verity from the first, mentoring and supporting her. Now Verity needed help. She'd fallen in love with Deputy U.S. Marshal Tate Thornton. They'd gotten engaged and planned to be married that summer. But as so often with young lovers everywhere, they hadn't waited for their wedding vows to consummate their love. Verity was pregnant.

Unfortunately, Verity's fiancé had disappeared several months ago. Verity was frantic with worry. She was big with child. She couldn't believe Tate would abandon her and their child, so she thought he was either held hostage, injured, or dead. She'd turned to Angel for help since she couldn't let anyone at the school know she might soon be an unwed mother. If she did, rules decreed that she'd lose her job and be out on the street with no support.

Angel had met Tate, an upstanding young man, and agreed with Verity's assessment of the situation. Angel was now paying for Verity to stay with a widow in Sherman, not too far from Bonham but far enough to avoid scrutiny. But it was straining Angel's finances. She needed all the income she could get from teaching school and selling books. She was also determined to find Tate, or what had happened to him, before the baby was born.

She'd turned to her big brother Rafe for help. Even though Rafe worked out of the U.S. Marshal's office in Fort Smith, Arkansas, while Tate was based in Paris, Texas, she'd thought Rafe might get news about the missing deputy. So far, he hadn't turned up any leads. Yet Rafe pursued outlaws in Indian Territory and Tate was probably in Texas.

She hadn't known where else to look until Rune came back into her life. If lawmen couldn't help, perhaps outlaws could make a difference. Now she planned to stay alert for information about Tate in the Bend.

With a will of their own, her thoughts came full circle.
Rune
. She slightly opened her eyes and looked at him sitting near the embers of their campfire, early morning sunlight casting him in a rosy glow.

He wasn't the same. She'd known he wouldn't be, not after his experience in jail. He was thinner, taut and prickly as barbwire, and tougher. His thick, sandy hair was cut short where once it had spilled past his shoulder in pale waves. No longer was his skin tawny from the sun. His broad shoulders, long legs, and elegant hands were cut to the bone, all muscle and sinew. Still, that was just the bits and pieces of him. The core of him, the sheer animal magnetism that made him a leader, not a follower, remained intact.

She almost wished he'd changed completely to a man she couldn't admire, respect, or desire. It'd make life easier. Despite his determination to hurt her, use her, and then dump her, she still wanted him with a power that left her breathless. Time hadn't healed the wound he'd inflicted on her when he'd rejected her love. Time had simply made it raw.

But she was stronger than her passions. And she'd learned from her mistakes. Now she felt ashamed of her actions regarding him. And contrite. If she could, she'd make it up to him.

Yet love would never be a part of her feelings for him again. She'd never allow herself to be that vulnerable to hurt. Never again.