Angel Gone Bad

by Sabine Starr

  Chapter Nine

  Angel stood in the open front doors of Manny’s Livery Stable, contemplating nighttime in notorious Delaware Bend. She’d never seen so much rowdy behavior. Dust swirled up from the main street, spun in all directions by drunken revelers driving their horses hard up one side and down the other. They fired their pistols in the air, cursed each other, and rode up onto the boardwalks. Piano music filtered out of open saloon doors along with the smell of spilled whiskey.

  Soon she would join them, slipping into their world as Angel the Ace. When Rune had earlier brought his horse to Manny’s, he’d wanted to escort her, but she’d turned him down. She intended to start as she would continue. Independent. Now that she saw the wildness of the town, she could understand his concern. He might have been right, but she couldn’t allow herself to start depending on him or she might become even more vulnerable, not only to him but to her own strong desire for him.

  From teacher to writer had not been a big leap. She could slide easily from one to the other, simply changing her outer garments. But Angel the Ace required much more. She must alter her mind and her emotions, along with her attire, if she stood a chance of living up to Rune’s expectations and finding Verity’s fiancé.

  Angel took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. And then there were the cards. Their siren song was louder now that she would be working with them again. She shivered with anticipation.

  “Why don’t you let me walk you to the Red River Saloon?” Manny asked, sidling up to her.

  “Did you escort Lady?”

  “No.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “She’d have bit my head clean off at that idea.”

  “I want to do this on my own, too.”

  “Lady takes the alley behind here to come out at the saloon’s back door. Safest that way.”

  “Thanks. I’ll do it, too.”

  “Seven doors down. Count ’em.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  Earlier she’d had a heart-to-heart talk with Manny, explaining that the man Lady loved was Angel’s brother, Rafe Morgan. She’d also explained about her situation with Rune, once more contrite about her former behavior. Manny had been sympathetic, but worried for her, too.

  “You know you got a place here if things get rough,” Manny said, breaking their silence. “I’m a pretty good shot, if it comes to that.”

  “Thank you. I hope I can quickly get a lead on Verity’s fiancé. But I don’t have much time before she’s due. Maybe a month. Verity desperately wants them to be married before their baby is born.”

  “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.”

  “Thanks. You’re a big help.” She turned to go, and then impulsively gave Manny a big hug.

  He grinned, appearing embarrassed. “You remind me of Lady. Now get out there and wow them.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  She walked out of the stable and into a dark alley. Humidity made the night feel hotter. As she headed toward the saloon, she caught the combined odors of liquor, refuse, outhouse, and sweat. Not pleasant, but she wouldn’t allow a few bad smells to slow her down.

  As she made her way down the alley, she saw the shadowy shapes of men leaning back against buildings, groaning as they crouched on their knees, and standing toe-to-toe in arguments. She slipped silently past them, thinking of the ivory-handled derringer tucked in the black reticule dangling on satin cords from her wrist. Rune had given her the single-shot, insisting that any self-respecting cardsharp carried one for protection. Her brother Rafe had taught her how to shoot when they were young. Still, she’d use the weapon only as a last resort.

  She counted doors as she listened to the sound of music and laughter coming through saloon walls. Finally, she reached number seven. A battered and splintered door sagged open, allowing yellow light and loud voices to escape.

  If she couldn’t do this, now was the time to retreat. She straightened her shoulders. She wouldn’t allow herself the luxury of turning back. Too many others depended on her actions.

  She wished she’d had more choice at the store in Cedar Mills. Colorful calico gowns or black mourning clothes had been the only selection for women. She’d needed something memorable and fashionable that would also allow her to conceal her identity. She’d picked black over flowers.

  Now she wore a black taffeta skirt with a stylish bustle in back and apron in front. Over a black corset that pushed up her breasts and reduced her waist, she wore a boy’s emerald vest that was unbuttoned low enough to reveal cleavage. She’d wrapped a black fringed shawl around her shoulders. Sturdy black button boots were comfortable. She’d pinned up her auburn hair, covered it with a black hat, and then pulled the hat’s black lace veil down to obscure her eyes and the top half of her face. She wore black lace mittens that reached above her wrists and left her fingers bare to easily handle cards.

  In her suggestive widow’s weeds, she didn’t believe anyone would recognize her as Angelica or Crystabelle, but there was always that danger. She would remain alert for anyone she knew from her other lives.

  For now, she was as ready as she could get. She stepped with determination inside the Red River Saloon through the rear entrance, appearing as an apparition of dark and silence amidst light and sound.

  A long line of men was bellied up to the bar, drinking, smoking, and talking. Cigarette smoke swirled in a white cloud over their heads. Light from hanging lanterns with green glass shades cast a golden glow over the large room dotted with round wooden tables and chairs filled with gamblers. Here and there a brightly dressed young woman flirted, chatted, or danced with the patrons to the tunes pounded out on an upright piano by a man in a red shirt.

  Never in her life could Angel have imagined walking boldly into a saloon where a lady would never set foot unless she was willing to lose her good reputation. And yet she was fascinated by the rowdy guys relaxing at their leisure and the gaudy gals catering to them. It was another world, one that existed as a haven for men but not for women. She felt a fluttering in the pit of her stomach at the thought of what she was doing. Only her disguise made her feel safe enough to brave this lion’s den. No matter what happened, she had definitely gone bad.

  She blinked to clear her eyes from the sting of smoke and looked for Rune and the Verdigris Gang. Too many men were packed too closely together for her to be able to find the ones she sought.

  As she moved slowly into the saloon, quiet followed in her wake. Voices faltered when surprised patrons stopped to watch her advance. By the time she reached the middle of the room, quiet had descended and she was the complete center of attention.

  Startled at the reaction to her appearance, Angel held down her panic by thinking about what Lady Gone Bad would do with so many male admirers staring at her and judging her attributes.

  She raised her chin, let her shawl fall open, put her hands on her hips, and glanced around the room with a smile on her rosy lips. She drew upon all her courage and issued a challenge, “Any of you know how to play poker?”

  In response, hootin’ and hollerin’ filled the place.

  She cocked her head. “I take that as a yes.”

  Sound rocked the rafters.

  She studied the patrons as she kept a smile in place although her heart beat so fast she feared it might burst loose.

  From a table near the swinging doors at the front, a tall, broad-shouldered man stood up, keeping his back to the wall. “That’s Angel the Ace!” Rune called out. “Fresh from the Mississippi riverboats. Darlin’, come over here. We’d be honored to play with you.”

  At those words, players at the other tables began vying for Angel’s attention, calling out invitations to play with them.

  She marveled at the ease with which Rune had instantly made her a famous female gambler from the sophisticated riverboat world, come to play cards in the rugged Wild West. Thankfully, she had chosen her clothes so that she fit the image. She could also handle a deck of cards with the best of them.

  Rune quickly walk
ed over to her, gave a slight bow, and then gestured toward his table. “Show time,” he murmured under his breath.

  Just to make sure he didn’t get overconfident about her, Angel hesitated and glanced around the room. “Gentlemen, my skills may not be up to yours, but I look forward to playing poker with you.”

  Hurrahs came up from the tables.

  Chapter Ten

  Rune escorted Angel toward the Verdigris Gang, a hand on the back of her waist, knowing he was being viewed as the luckiest man in the Red River Saloon. She looked sexy as hell in that getup, a dangerous black widow who could lure men into her web and feast on their pleasure. Most guys would find her almost impossible to resist, whether they wanted to subdue her or succumb to her. If he hadn’t known her better, he’d be ready to fall at her feet himself.

  When they reached the poker table, three men leaped to their feet and politely jerked off their cowboy hats.

  “May I present Angel the Ace,” Rune said formally.

  “Gentlemen, it’s my pleasure,” Angel responded in a husky voice that suggested cigarettes and whiskey in a bed of rumpled sheets.

  “This is Baines Callahan.” Rune gestured to the leader.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Angel.” Baines grinned, revealing a row of strong white teeth centered in a thick black beard. He was heavily muscled and radiated a kind of brutal sensuality.

  “Hackett here is his younger brother.”

  Hackett nodded, giving Angel the once-over from his hooded gray eyes. Where his brother was short and wide, he was tall and wiry with thick black hair and a handlebar mustache.

  “And this is their cousin Jumpin’ Judd Haynes.”

  “You’re pretty as a picture,” Jumpin’ Judd said, then blushed to the roots of his fiery red hair. He was so full of pep that he impatiently tapped fingertips against the tabletop.

  “Thank you.” Angel gave each of the gang a slow perusal. “You boys ready to play some poker?”

  “You’re our huckleberry.” Baines pulled out a chair with exaggerated courtesy. “Please sit here.”

  “Thank you.”

  As Angel sat down, Baines pushed in her chair and threw Rune a challenging stare, obviously ready to lay claim to her. “I can see why you rented that horse and buggy. Lady like this ought to have the best.”

  Rune refused to be baited by the challenge or the barb. He sat down next to Angel, ready to help and protect her if she needed it. He’d already taken enough ribbing about the dang horse and buggy. Maybe this would finish it. “Where’s Lucky?”

  “Wandered off, ’bout like he always does when he’s needed,” Baines grumbled.

  “Most likely he went to see a man about a horse.” Hackett snickered at the old excuse to be someplace else when there was work to be done.

  “Who’s Lucky?” Angel asked.

  “Met up with him in the Bend.” Baines checked the room, and then glanced back. “Supposed to be good with a gun and better with a knife.”

  “Could’ve used him in college,” Hackett said. “That stare of his could stop a stampeding buffalo in its tracks.”

  “Good man to have on your side,” Angel said.

  “If he was ever in place.” Jumpin’ Judd fiddled with his cards.

  “Yep, a guy like him is good to have at your back in college or out of it.” Rune bumped Angel’s knee under the table so she would note college being substituted for prison and not question it.

  “We don’t need him to play cards, do we?” Angel asked, smiling around at the group.

  “We’re not waitin’ for that sidewinder to find his way back here.” Baines picked up a deck of cards, cut them in half, and started to shuffle. He stopped. “Angel, you got any druthers?”

  “I’m just along for the ride. I’ll take what I’m dealt.”

  “Five card stud it is,” Baines said.

  “Full chisel tonight.” Hackett rubbed his hands together.

  Baines shuffled, and then passed around cards with cool efficiency.

  Rune peeked at what he’d been dealt and resisted rolling his eyes. Not good by any kind of reckoning. He’d try to bluff, but first he’d back up Angel if she needed it.

  Wasn’t long before he realized she was close to being a better pupil than he was a teacher. And she had a way with the cards, touching them, sliding her fingers across their backs, holding them close to her bosom. It was as if she was communicating with them, or they were talking to her. Felt a little like something out of Indian Territory.

  For the first time, he wondered if she came out of one of the nations. She had sorrel hair, a dark red, and pale green eyes. But her skin glowed warm, not icy pale like his where the sun didn’t touch it. She had those high cheekbones that made her heart-shaped face strong rather than pretty. When it came right down to it, he knew more about the pedigree of his horse than he did about Angel. Maybe he’d remedy that one day, but out West folks didn’t ask what they weren’t told. Could get you shot or worse.

  What he did know was that she was one hell of a woman. She’d set him on fire once and he’d kept right on blazing like a pine knot. Only way to get relief was to get full payback. He’d do it, too.

  “Rune!” Baines yelled. “You go to sleep, or what?”

  He shook his head to clear out thoughts of Angel. He couldn’t let her cloud his mind or he’d be in big trouble. “Woolgathering.”

  “Well, don’t do it on my watch,” Baines grumbled, shuffling the cards.

  Angel slanted a glance at Rune, her lips twitching in suppressed laughter as if she knew he’d been thinking about her.

  He gave her a hard stare before turning back to the game. He picked up his cards, looked through them, and resisted a groan. All his luck was running downhill to her. He ought to be glad, but it made him mad.

  Still, she was being smart, letting the others win often enough to stay happy while she steadily won everybody’s money. They liked playing with her, too, the suckers.

  About the time Rune was ready to throw in his hand, he noticed Lucky watching them from nearby. It looked like he’d been standing there a while with nobody the wiser. Rune didn’t know how Lucky did it. Like tonight, he’d just disappear and reappear as if through a rabbit hole. Guy ought to be called Loki, or a similar Indian Trickster name like Coyote or Rabbit. A few words here or there and Lucky would set a brawl in motion or he’d distract everybody long enough that he’d get something impossible done. Rune had taken to watching him, wondering what Lucky was doing with the V Gang. He was smarter than the others, quicker, and a loner. Maybe he was part Indian, too.

  One thing for sure, Lucky was a looker, almost as pretty as a girl. He had wavy brown hair and dark amber eyes. He was a couple inches shy of six feet and lithe with wiry muscle. Ladies fell all over themselves to please him, and he appeared to take it for granted.

  “You must be an angel come to earth,” Lucky said as he stepped forward and knelt by Angel’s chair.

  The Verdigris Gang gaped at him in astonishment.

  Lucky held out his hand to Angel, a silver chain wrapped around his wrist. He slowly unwound the chain, leaving one end around his wrist as he held out the other end to her. “Miss Angel, Princess of Light, I am henceforth your most loyal servant. Please accept my chain of service.”

  “You must be Lucky,” Angel said, giggling.

  Rune saw red. He’d never heard Angel giggle before, and he hated the sound. Damn Loki to Hel and back. He belonged in the Underworld with the half-dead and half-live Queen Hel. Not here, not now, stirring up trouble.

  Chapter Eleven

  Angel gazed into Lucky’s eyes, a feeling akin to diving into sweet, dark caramel. Absolutely irresistible. She reached for the chain, but felt her hand knocked down to the table and held there by Rune’s strong fingers. She glanced up at him in surprise.

  Rune loomed closer, his blue eyes staring daggers of ice at Lucky. “I don’t know what the hell your game is, but Angel is here with me.”

  “I’m
spellbound by her charm,” Lucky said, a slight twitch to his lips revealing a single dimple in his left cheek.

  “Hogwash!”

  Angel realized the situation was quickly getting out of hand. Rune looked twice the size of Lucky, but she’d already heard about the smaller man’s reputation. She didn’t want either of them hurt.

  “Gentlemen,” she said, “I’m not a side of beef to be fought over.”

  “That’s right,” Baines agreed. “You two sit down. We’re playing cards, not throwing down.”

  “Miss Angel has a right to accept my chain of service should she so desire.” Lucky cast a challenging glance at her.

  Angel had to admit he was extraordinarily handsome and spoke delightfully like someone in a historical novel. She was charmed despite her desire for Rune and his rugged good looks. Maybe a man like Lucky could help her overcome her unrelenting passion for the Northman.

  “What’s Lucky yammering about?” Hackett asked, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement.

  “He’s about to make trouble.” Baines threw down his cards in disgust. “I’m not having it. Lucky, you get along with the Verdigris Gang or you get out. Rune brought Angel in to help us with that railroad deal. You didn’t. Back off or get gone.”

  Lucky shrugged, giving Angel an aggrieved look. “Fair damsel, I am overruled by our illustrious leader.” He glanced up at Rune and his eyes turned hard and dark. “But my offer stands . . . for all time.” He rewrapped the chain around his wrist and stood up in a single, graceful move.

  “Thank you . . . I think,” Angel said, still confused about Lucky’s meaning or motivation.

  Lucky leaned down to whisper in her ear. “With your touch and sight, we could go far. I value your gift.”

  She jerked back from him as if stung. How did he know? No one knew, or could know. Horrified, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. She stood up, knocking her chair over backwards. The loud clatter brought heads up across the saloon. She put a hand to her face as if she had a headache, feigning any excuse to get out of there.