Hell's Belle

by Shannah Biondine

  "Yes. The advertisements were worded so Hilde might guess that I had her bag. I said it was imperative that she contact me and we meet to make an exchange." Twila chattered faster as they walked out into the morning damp. She didn't need Lucius overhearing any of this. "I thought that word might trigger a memory, even though I know she hasn't got my things."

  Del stopped and looked into her eyes. "Did you lose something important yourself?"

  Twila was nearly overcome with a wave of sentimentality. Foolish sentiments, really. She was a grown woman. A wife, soon to be a mother. She was no longer the child who'd treasured hair ribbons and a rusty compass. "Small things. Mementos. Nothing I can't live without."

  "I'm going to let your cousin take Caramel and head home," Del announced.

  Twila had been about to argue that Lucius seemed determined to visit the city for reasons of his own, but he showed up and launched into his own debate with Del. At length, Twila pulled out her letter from Hilde Vogel and gave Del the address. They would use the horse and buggy to pay the social call. Lucius would take the palomino to conduct his business and meet them at the Vogel residence.

  A simple enough plan, but when they arrived at the Vogel home—which turned out to be a fairly impressive town house—the woman who answered the door told Twila that Manus was upstairs napping and Hilde had gone around the block to help at the local church. The following day the church was hosting a community social. Hilde served on the planning committee, and wasn't expected back for several hours.

  To Twila's surprise, Del tipped his hat and grinned. "No problem at all, ma'am. Thank you for the information. If you could just point me in the right direction, I'll take my wife right over to find Miss Vogel there. Maybe we can lend a hand in the community efforts."

  "Why, young man, that's a capital notion! The minister's not as young as he once was. A strapping young fellow like you will be much appreciated. You go to the next cross street, then over one block south."

  They left the rig hitched to a nearby post and followed the sounds of activity to a rear hall connected to the apse. They discovered a number of females bustling about with mops and brooms and paper flowers. The minister scaled a ladder that seemed in danger of crashing down as Lucius' had done. Del rushed over to steady it.

  Twila spotted Hilde beneath a voluminous length of green cotton gauze. "Miss Vogel!"

  The girl turned and squinted. Her face brightened and she dropped the fabric to rush over. "Miss Bell! I'd hoped you could come soon, but when I didn't hear from you again I thought perhaps you'd run into some difficulty."

  "Nope. Just a church like this, where she exchanged vows and became Mrs. Mitchell," Del answered for her. "How do you do, Miss Vogel? I've heard about what happened, with you and your grandfather and that mess on the train. Name's Del Mitchell."

  Hilde's eyes widened and she gushed at Twila, "My lands, look at him! How is it I ride West and lose everything precious, while you ride on the same train and end up finding a man like that?"

  Twila knew she was blushing. Del's very masculine chuckle didn't help. "Oh, well…" She thrust out the satchel. "Here you are, at last."

  Hilde grabbed it and popped the top open. She rummaged through it, then glanced back at Twila. "Oh no." Her expression instantly changed to one of dismay. "I'd hoped…a slim chance, I admit. With all the confusion and whatnot, you probably didn't have your eye on my bag every minute. I'd packed something very old and important under my other things. A necklace Grandmother left me. It's not here."

  Twila straightened her shoulders and savored the moment.

  Other than last night, when she'd confessed her pregnancy and Del had responded by telling her he loved her, Twila thought this might be the shining moment of her life. The one time she'd be able to point to, years later, when she had done the right thing. The best thing. And everyone would be amazed, rather than dismayed, that Twilagleam coordinated the situation.

  "Yes, it is," she replied. "He has it."

  "What? How could I have it? I've never even seen it," Del sputtered.

  Twila bit the side of her tongue to keep from laughing. "It's in your coat." She calmly reached for a shoulder and tugged the garment down his arm. "Remember when I fixed the lining? I sewed the necklace inside it."

  While Del and Hilde stood transfixed like a pair of statues, Twila opened the coat, found the little French knot she'd left as a marker near the side seam, and plucked at the knot with her teeth. It snapped. She tugged the loose thread and carefully pulled the fleece lining away from the outer leather coat.

  Neatly tucked in several places, the necklace caught the sun from the church's high arched windows and sent a dazzling sunburst bouncing off the gleaming tile floor.

  "Merciful heavens!" The minister shuffled over, gaping at the display.

  Hilde stared at the necklace a long moment, then crushed Twila to her bosom, weeping tears of joy. "I'll never be able to thank you enough. Wait until Grandfather hears about this."

  Del tugged his coat back out of Twila's hands and held the necklace close to his face. "This thing is…Twila, those look like diamonds. A hell of a lot of diamonds, and pearls, and—"

  "Sapphires, " Hilde supplied in a giddy tone. "My grandmother inherited it from her grandmother. It's worth a king's ransom. Grandfather was certain we'd lost it in the train robbery. The insurance agent said he wasn't sure we could be paid what it's actually worth, since we hadn't had it appraised recently. They even assigned a special agent to investigate the train robbery because this necklace was believed to be stolen, too. Oh, Twila, you're amazing!"

  "Diamonds and pearls and sapphires…You had that out at the ranch the whole time, Twila," Del said in bemusement. He sat down heavily. Twila realized his eyes appeared oddly unfocused. He'd gone pale as a ghost, too.

  She broke away from Hilde. "Delancy, are you all right? You look quite wan, of a sudden. You didn't eat much last night."

  The clergyman chuckled. "Young woman, I've seen this effect before. I believe the fellow's simply in momentary shock. Gives a man pause, realizing he's been guarding a fortune. I suspect he's just now opening his mind to the tremendous risk you took, traveling with such an expensive piece."

  Twila watched Hilde dig a pair of scissors out of her apron and begin snipping at the stitches holding the necklace inside Del's coat. It was actually convenient that Hilde had been hanging decorations, Twila noted. She was carrying scissors and twine in her apron pockets. Sometimes the same quirk of fate that made everything careen so out of kilter could propel events to come together just as nicely. She was ever so glad this appeared to be one of those nice times.

  But she still worried about Del. She'd never seen him look so…baffled.

  Then she replayed the minister's words, and realized she should correct one mistaken impression. "It wasn't such a risk, really. After all, no one except me knew we had it, and thieves would never take Del's coat. He'd never let them."

  As she anticipated, this snapped him back to life. "Never let them? Twila, I don't understand how you can say that. For all we know, the whole train robbery could've been staged by outlaws who knew the Vogels had this necklace on that train! Hell, they could've been trailing you and the Bells—Jesus, the store! The Emporium was broken into not even a month back. They were looking for this, weren't they, Twila?"

  He looked mad enough to shake her, but Twila never flinched. She leaned even closer and stared at him so hard, his spine slapped the back of the wooden pew. "They most certainly were not! I told you that I never admitted to anyone that I had it, Del. Not my uncle, not Lucius, not even Hilde or her grandfather in my advertisements or letters…not even you. And while it bothered me for a long time to have it at the ranch, once I decided what should be done about it, I resolved not to worry, but get it back to Hilde. You asked me to trust you, Delancy. My trust was one of the essential elements I agreed to when we married. Remember?"

  "Yeah, but—"

  "I didn't tell you. Does that
mean I didn't trust you?"

  The ministered answered for him. "She's got a reasonable argument there, good fellow. Appears as though you're the only person she trusted completely, to act as courier. Even believed you'd thwart a robbery attempt if one was made."

  "But you couldn't have been certain I'd come after you," Del protested, rising to his feet now and scowling back at her. Inside, Twila beamed. She particularly loved this side of Del. The Del who could step over a fool wearing a corset on his head and get rogue ponies in gingham curtains to calmly follow where he led. This ferocious, wonderful Del.

  "If you hadn't, I would have sent Lucius home with a message asking you to come fetch me from Hilde's. I wouldn't have gone back to Wadsworth until you came for me."

  "Well, how would you know for sure I'd wear my coat? Were you going to say in your message, 'Oh, and bring your damned coat'?"

  A collective gasp rose as mops and brooms stilled.

  Twila clucked her tongue in reproach. "Delancy, this is a house of worship and there are a number of ladies present. Please have a care with your language. Being emotionally overset is no reason to—"

  "There's no reason for anyone to be upset," Hilde interrupted, pressing the necklace to her chest. "You've both done the most wonderful thing for my family!" She glanced at the clergyman and a pair of older women standing behind him. "Forgive me, but I really feel I must see these people home and share the news with my grandfather. He hasn't been well, and this will cheer him immensely. Perhaps if—"

  "We'll carry on in your absence, my dear," the minister assured her. Then he beamed at first Twila, then her scowling husband. "And you two fine folks must come for the social tomorrow. You'll stay with Miss Vogel and accompany her back here. I'm not taking no for an answer. Everyone will want to meet our heroes!"

  The knot of fury low in Del's belly had moved across his chest and even snarled the working parts of this throat. His tongue strained, his mind begged for him to form the simply word "no" and have done with it. He wanted to go home to the ranch, not to any church social. He wanted to be alone with Twila so he could decide whether to strangle her or kiss her senseless. He wanted to shout that he couldn't believe her grit, her faith in him, even that she'd claimed to be in love with him and had been hiding that truth.

  Then he remembered he'd confessed his own volatile emotions to her just the night before. After she'd told him they were to become parents in a few months.

  His eyes met hers, and in their amber depths he saw a calming deep conviction. Maybe even admiration.

  Damn that woman, would she never stop getting things backward? All he'd done was put on his coat and ride his horse.

  He was the one who should be in awe of her. When he thought of how folks had treated her, how her own family belittled her and degraded her, telling her she could never do anything right…When he thought of how she'd stoically withstood all that, until the moment when a horse's ass of a daredevil asked her to leave her uncle's house and become his wife…Also stupidly, arrogantly demanding she trust him.

  Twila trusted a world that had done nothing to earn her faith. She trusted in people, even though many of them had done everything to undermine her belief in the good side of human nature.

  She'd given her trust, her faith, her loving woman's body—which even now harbored the seed of his unborn child. What had he given her in return? A truly hideous wedding ring, a show of male bluster when she'd done something as simple as ride out of town with her male cousin. He'd never given her a proper wedding or a festive party to celebrate their union. Never danced with her or shown her off in public so she could know he was immeasurably proud of her.

  "We'll be there," he heard himself answer.

  Twila just smiled, and Del's heart thumped. How little he'd valued that smile. It outshone the pearls and diamonds, put the sapphires to shame.

  "Come on, Miss Vogel. I'm looking forward to meeting your grandpappy."

  Tucking Twila's arm through his, Del straightened his shoulders and picked up his coat from where it had been tossed, forgotten, in a nearby pew. He mentally shook his head. He'd always heard churches were places of true miracles. Today he'd witnessed one. And discovered another had been living on his ranch for months. He'd just been too blind to see her.

  * * *

  Lucius paused in front of the location fitting the stranger's description. It looked nothing like the bordellos or gaming hells in Wadsworth, or even those of Reno. This was a traditional, three-story house, festooned with abundant railings, decorative trim moldings, and shuttered windows. It looked like an elegant funeral parlor. Maybe even a governor's mansion.

  But it wasn't the home of the California governor. It was the house reputed to be the premiere in this bustling city for gentlemanly pursuits of a certain flavor.

  He fingered the coins in his pocket and his folded stash of notes. His father would naturally be frantic when he discovered the empty till. However, Lucius didn't think that moment would come until a few days from now. While no one else in town seemed to pay any attention, Lucius was fully aware that Fletcher's focus of late seemed to revolve around a certain shapely widow.

  Lucius hadn't been fooled when Fletcher claimed to need the horse and wagon for a mysterious "delivery" some two dozen miles outside of Wadsworth. There was nothing beyond the town limits except rocks, rattlesnakes, and scorpions. Unless one counted the meandering Truckee River, which curved and ended in a nice lake where lovers were known to steal away for private picnics.

  As long as Fletcher was fervently "delivering" to the widow, he wouldn't return to the emporium. And when he did, he'd jump to the conclusion that the store had been broken into again. This impression aided by the fact that Lucius made sure to leave the upstairs kitchen window open—something Twila had overlooked in their rushed departure.

  For all Lucius knew, maybe the store was being ransacked and searched again. If those Englishmen had returned to confront him, they would have found no one minding the place. They could pore over his father's idiotic journals at their leisure. Lucius laughed out loud. They still refused to accept that his father had less clue to where gold lay buried than most of the Spanish explorers centuries before.

  All he scribbled were his recollections about daily events, his impressions of this person or another, and maybe even his pathetic romantic yearnings concerning the Widow Johansson. If they enjoyed reading melodramatic ranting, those journals might entertain them for a spell. In any case, the tale of robbers returning to the scene of the crime would cover Lucius' theft perfectly.

  He grinned as he dismounted form Mitchell's beast. Perhaps it would be content to water itself out here. The wide porch rail hovered above an equally wide horse trough. He'd worry about oats later.

  Right now his own wild oats were his only focus. From the word he'd pick up in a flourishing barber shop, this was the place to scatter them. He acknowledged a brief twinge of remorse. He'd stolen money from the till and lied to Twila and her husband, merely pretending to go along with their plan of meeting at the Vogel home. He dimly recalled the Vogels. Boring, stuffy Germanic people. A doddering old coot leaning on a cane. The girl hadn't been a total washout, though. There was something almost fetching about her, but she was fresh and wholesome. Not what Lucius craved.

  Maybe it had been all that "research" he'd done in Wadsworth, but once he began visiting brothels and saloons and partaking of the amusements in them, he found he quite enjoyed certain activities. The kind impressionable, proper young misses like Miss Vogel would swoon at the mere mention of.

  Let his twit cousin and her scowling farmer sip tea and admire Miss Vogel's latest tatting project.

  Before his father laced the storekeeper vest so tightly around Lucius that he'd never be able to unwind again, he resolved to have a fine fling. With his father's money. Which wasn't such an odd notion. He'd had friends in Omaha who'd gone off to study at university or enlisted in the military and done the same thing…spent their old man's money
on cards or horses or dice or women. It was part of a young buck's initiation into manhood. Some fathers understood this. Some who weren't so miserly as his. If he'd even suggested wanting an outing like this one, his father would have snorted in derision and calmly told him to go reorganize the stockroom.

  Swaggering up onto the porch of the establishment, Lucius smoothed his hair and puffed out his chest. He actually prayed deep down he'd live to regret this decision. What tale of crossing from adolescence into manhood didn't feature at least one horrendous error? He licked his lips, hoping he was about to make one that would be worthy of retelling in years to come.

  CHAPTER 15

  "Delancy." There was a mild rebuke in Twila's soft whisper in the darkened guestroom. "It wouldn't be right. Someone might hear."

  Del paused, mentally debating. She'd given him a list of reasons why they shouldn't make love tonight, here in the Vogel house. Starting with the fact it was the Vogel's house, not their ranch bedroom. Talking about proper manners and consideration as guests, the fact they'd just had a very intense romantic interlude the previous night at the inn, there'd been a lot of excitement earlier…She had a pretty decent tally going, he'd give her that.

  But he had an overwhelming need to show her how he felt. She didn't seem to understand that his feelings had undergone a major shift today, and he didn't think he could exactly put that into words. He'd discovered another side to Twila, a depth that surprised him.

  He'd always been her champion. But today he had to admit that part of the attraction from the first was enjoying the mental picture of himself that way—riding in and saving her, taking her away from that bastard Fletcher Bell and her useless cousin, defending her from the nasty rumors in town, giving folks his steely glare of warning that they best not disparage his bride.

  Del staunchly denied that he'd married her out of pity. He'd felt sorry for her predicament, not her as a person. He'd been obsessed with Twilagleam in the usual way a man could get tangled up inside over a woman. From the first morninig he'd laid eyes on her. Part of him had been intrigued before he knew anything about her. He'd been ensnared with just one look. And that was no cause for anyone's pity.