When she had discovered her healing powers, she’d been frightened, at first. What thirteen-year-old girl wouldn’t have been? But, as she’d grown older and begun to understand that this was a gift to be careful with, her mother had warned her about using her healing touch too frequently…and what it took from her. It was a secret, her mother had told her…one that she must never share with the outside world.
If anyone found out, she could become a slave to someone like that demon her family had run from—for that talent alone—and safecracking be damned. What man—especially one like him, so full of evil intent—wouldn’t take her and use her to his own ends?
Even Earlie didn’t know the full extent of Angie’s healing capability, though Earlie had talents of her own that she was only just discovering. The ability to “know” things before they happened…their mother had called it “second sight”. But it was unreliable. Sometimes, Earlie saw what was coming their way…other times, things snuck up on her.
Angie mustered a faint smile and patted Brett’s hand. “We’ll—we’ll figure out something, Brett. You just have to get well.” Her smile widened. “On the bright side, I’ll have someone else here to cook Christmas dinner for. Earlie and me, we get tired of each other’s company.”
“Why did she shoot me?”
Angie’s breath caught in her throat at his no-nonsense tone. She couldn’t run any longer. She needed to tell him the truth—just so he could understand. It wasn’t fair, what had happened to him. But she could not tell him everything. Some things must remain her own.
She moistened her lips quickly. Something about Brett Diamond made her want to trust him. The weight of her world had become too heavy.
“My father was not cut out for the circus.” She glanced up, meeting his steady gaze. “That’s where we were raised. My mother was killed in an accident—on the trapeze. She fell to her death.”
Brett grimaced at her words. “I’m sorry, Angie. That must have been really hard, losing her. I remember—uh…my mother died when I was young, too.”
She nodded. “I was fifteen at the time, and Earlene was eight.” She shuddered.”I thank God every day that she was helping with the animals, and wasn’t in the big top that night when it happened. It wasn’t a night when her act was part of the show.”
“Her act? You mean, you were circus performers, too?”
She nodded. “Earlie really is a crack shot, Brett. Though…her aim was a bit off, with you.” She grinned. “She was aiming to shoot your hat off your head.”
He smiled. Then, he laughed. “I’m glad she was low and to the left. She might have put a bullet in my head instead.” He sobered then. “Although, she might as well have, if I can’t help my brother.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think I might be able to help you with your um…job. What you have to do to save Jake.”
“How? Unless you’re a safecracker, I don’t know how or what you can do—”
She sat forward quickly, and reached for his hand, her decision made. It was dangerous, but she was so lonely; so tired of carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had to trust someone!
“Ang?” Brett peered at her through the murky darkness, hope tingeing his voice, disbelief almost edging it out completely.
She nodded. “I am, Brett. I’m the best there is.” She lifted her head a notch. “I’m every bit as good as you—most likely, better.”
That much was true. She wouldn’t tell him, just yet, about the rest of her gifts. She didn’t want to make him afraid of her.
Chapter 6
Brett’s breath left him in a rush, and the dizziness overcame him. Angie’s hands gripped him tightly, holding on to him; pulling him back from the swirling vortex of pain and darkness.
If she was who he thought she was, she spoke the truth—she probably was better at the game than he was. He’d heard tell of a young woman who travelled with the circus and did all kinds of sleight-of-hand tricks…including safecracking.
Word was…her talent was otherworldly. Maybe even borrowed from Satan, himself.
But, she’d disappeared. And now…here she was, reappearing in her own personal magic performance…all for him.
“How old are you, Angie?”
“Don’t see why it matters, but I already told you, I’m nearly nineteen.”
“I’d forgotten…”
She lifted her head up, defiance sparking in her eyes, and something like a fist gripped Brett’s heart and squeezed. How long had she been barely holding things together here on this lonesome little homestead? She was too young for this. She should be enjoying some of whatever it was young women did before they had to knuckle down to the responsibilities of life. From the looks of things, those responsibilities were already crushing her.
“Eighteen, huh?” He gave her a teasing look. “Old enough to be kissed, certainly.”
She cocked her head in the stubborn tilt he’d already come to recognize.
“If I wanted to be kissed, Mr. Diamond…which I don’t. I’ve had plenty of opportunities.”
He gave a short chuckle. “I doubt that. Stuck out here on this place…who would you kiss? Your horse?”
Her fists clenched, then released slowly, as though she’d had to force them to relax.
“Brett Diamond, I’ll have you know I did have a life before Papa brought us here—away from everyone—”
The longing in her voice was hard for him to take. It overshadowed the anger that she’d begun with, and by the time she broke off, the wistfulness was all that was left.
“Why? Why did he bring you to such a lonely place, Ang?”
She lowered her eyes. “He was afraid for us. For me. And he was right to be.”
That made sense, Brett thought. A young woman with Angie’s particular talents could be kidnapped and forced to do things…just as Brett was being coerced into saving Jake.
“Were you threatened in some way?”
Angie shook her head. “Not really what you’d call ‘threatened’—not outright. But…there was a man. He—started calling on me.” She shook her head, and fell silent in her memories before she continued. “It wasn’t right, Brett. He was older—much older. I was just fifteen. He was twice my age.”
“Love happens—”
“No. It wasn’t love. He wanted to use me for what I could do.”
A chill shivered its way through Brett’s body as a thought flitted through his mind.
“What did this man look like?”
“Tall, and built hard—like you. Bald-headed, with a dark beard…”
Brett started to push himself up, her description of the man becoming a reality in his mind. A man he knew…a ruthless killer…
“And he had the palest ice-blue eyes, Brett—”
“Teller Magdon—” he breathed.
Angie’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes wide. “You know him?”
Brett slumped back into the bed. “I know him,” he said harshly. “He’s the son of a bitch that has my brother, Angie. The leader of the San Bois Mountain Gang. And I aim to kill him, this time, no matter what.”
****
Oh, dear sweet Lord! In one sentence, Brett Diamond had delivered the revelation that he could be her salvation or the death of her!
She had to go with him to save his brother; there was no getting around it. Her sister would be the unwitting cause of Jake Diamond’s death by proxy if Angie didn’t step in and help Brett—now that Brett couldn’t do what Magdon had demanded.
There was always the other alternative…she could try to heal Brett with her gift. But she shied away from it. She’d never healed a person before, and this was too important to risk.
“Did he…hurt you, Ang?” Brett’s question was delicately framed, but Angie knew what he was really asking.
She shook her head. “No. He never—never did what you’re thinkin’. But he got good and mad when I refused him. He and Papa had words. He told Papa if he didn’t let
him court me, he’d make him pay.”
“How?”
No. She couldn’t tell him about the—abilities—she had…If he knew, he’d get out of bed and ride away in fear of her. She couldn’t let him know.
“I…can’t prove it…but Mama had her accident the very next week. After we buried her, Papa, Earlie and me all slipped away in the dark the next night.
“Papa had already been looking to find us a place. He knew right where we were going. I believe he must have already talked to Mama about leaving the circus, and coming to live in safety, here.”
“I’ll protect you, Angie,” Brett promised her quietly. “You know I’ll never speak of this place to another living soul. But—you can’t live out here forever.”
“But—”
“You know this is no kind of a life for you—or for Earlene.”
He reached out and took her hand. She looked down, but not before a tear slipped down her cheek. She had not realized how lonely, how weary she’d become. Hearing Brett put into words what her own thoughts had been was disconcerting. This truly was not what she’d envisioned for herself or for her sister.
He increased the pressure of his hand on hers, pulling her up toward him, until she sat beside him on the bed.
He shifted so he could draw her down beside him, and she made no protest. It felt wonderful to lie beside him, her head pillowed on his good shoulder, the heat of his fevered body permeating the covers and her thin dress, warming her inside and out.
His fingers played through her hair, and she relaxed into his solid frame, absorbing his heat, her own body becoming nerveless. Finally, she turned her face up to him, surprised to find him looking at her with hungry intensity. His touch didn’t belie the need in his near-black eyes…a gambler’s eyes that gave none of the pain away—only the want.
He pulled her closer to him, and lowered his head slowly.
“Brett—”
“Shh…I’m just making sure I can trust you.”
His lips grazed hers gently, and she moaned. She reached to cup his cheek with her hand, and this time, he kissed her—his mouth settling fully, sweetly, on hers.
After a moment, he lifted his head. “Yeah, I believe you told me the truth.”
She gave him a dazed, questioning look. “How do you mean?”
“You’ve been kissed before, that much is true; but it’s been an awful long time. I think we need to practice…”
****
He half-expected her to slap his face, but there was one thing he hadn’t counted on…her total inexperience with men. She’d been more protected and insulated here in this hideaway for the last three years than even she understood. And though Brett had always had his share of women, he’d never been one to take advantage. How could he promise her his protection, and at the same time, plan to take her virginity? Though he wanted her, badly.
When she looked up into his face all starry-eyed, her blonde hair mussed from his caress, her lips swollen from his kisses…he felt as if it was his first time to ever desire a woman as much as he wanted Angie Colton.
He was older by eight years—a man of the world. A man who had seen too much of the seedy side of life and despaired of ever finding the good part of it again. But he was holding it right here beside him, wasn’t he? Angie Colton was unspoiled…pure…an innocent. She was full of dreams she just didn’t realize yet.
And as much as he wanted her, he was not going to ruin her life. Someday, she would hope for the same things all women wanted—a husband, children, and a home.
He pulled back reluctantly.
“Did I do something wrong?” Angie asked, her green eyes concerned. Her touch lingered against his cheek.
Brett couldn’t help turning his lips into her open palm and kissing it. “No,” he muttered. “I just didn’t want things to—uh—get out of control.”
She looked down quickly, embarrassed, and nodded.
“I want to be a better man than Teller Magdon,” Brett said, Magdon’s name gritting in his throat like sand.
She nodded again, and raised her eyes to him. “You would never be like—him.”
Brett had to smile at her earnest proclamation.
“Brett, would you mind if I slept here for the rest of the night? I just want to be close to someone. I want to feel safe again—even if it’s just for a while.”
Brett’s heart slammed against his chest at her softly-spoken words. Even before he answered, his body responded, moving over carefully to give her more space, accommodating her head to lie easier on his shoulder.
“Sure, Angie.”
She snuggled down against him, and his groin tightened painfully. Her arm drifted across his bare waist, and he stifled a groan as she made herself comfortable.
She was asleep within seconds, but Brett lay awake a long time, wondering how it might feel to go to bed like this every night of his life with Angie Colton.
****
The next morning, Brett awoke to a feeling of emptiness. It was a few seconds before he realized what was missing—Angie.
He could hear her in the kitchen, and the smell of breakfast cooking made his stomach rumble.
He moved, trying to ignore the lancing fire in his shoulder. He pushed up into a sitting position, a wave of dizziness washing over him that he recognized must be from his blood loss—not to mention that crack on the head he’d taken when he fell from the horse.
The horse…had Angie seen to Ace? Surely, she or Earlene had done so, working with circus animals as they had for so long.
He tried to move the fingers of his left hand, with little success. It seemed better than yesterday, he thought, but not by much…not enough to be able to use it to crack a safe…
And much as he’d like to let Angie take over for him and pull that job off—he wouldn’t expose her to Magdon again. If Magdon believed her to be out of his reach, so much the better. Maybe he’d forgotten her by now. But if he saw her again, he’d feel as though he must possess her, as he had intended all those years before.
Just then, Earlene stuck her head around the corner. “Yep, he’s up, Angie!” she shouted, then she was gone, the slamming of the front door announcing her departure.
Seconds later, Angie was standing in the bedroom doorway glaring at him. “Brett Diamond, you are not ready to get up out of bed!”
He tried to shake his head, but it was pounding too hard. “Yes…yes I am. I have to get well, Angie. Can’t do it lying in bed.”
“That’s exactly how you need to do it! Resting, and letting us wait on you while you build your strength up. At least for another day—”
“Hell, you’re just wanting to feed me Christmas dinner,” he mumbled, already knowing he was going to lose this battle.
Angie cocked her head. “Well, I fully intend for you to be here through Christmas. Ft. Smith isn’t that far away—like I said, a hard day’s ride from here. You’ll be able to make it in time.”
He nodded. Slowly.
“Would you rather come lie on the sofa in the front room? It’s warmer, and you’ll be with Earlie and me—” She broke off, taking a step toward him. “Let me get it fixed for you and I’ll help you move. If you want.”
“Yeah.” He gave her a faint grin. “Not so sure about bein’ around that hellcat sister of yours.”
Angie just laughed. “I promise, I won’t let her shoot you again.”
Understanding dawned on Brett. “She thinks she’s your protector, doesn’t she?”
Angie nodded. “Well, she is the sharpshooter in the family. She’s been shooting practically since she was old enough to hold a gun in her hands. Papa saw her talent for it early.” Angie turned away.
“Let me go fix up the couch for you. I think that sister of mine is determined to have us a Christmas tree this year. I would do with a few branches of pine and holly berries, but she wants a real holiday.”
She walked back into the front room, leaving Brett to marshal his strength and hope he could make it t
he few steps to the front room under his own power. Right now, that seemed impossible.
Chapter 7
Earlene did bring in a Christmas tree, and not the small, scraggly one Brett had imagined. She had dragged it, tied behind her horse, from where she’d chopped it down. When she reached the front porch, she called for Angie, who was baking sugar cookies.
Brett watched from where he lay propped on the couch. He had managed to walk the short distance from the bedroom a couple of hours earlier, with Angie hovering at his side, her eyes wide and anxious.
They’d both breathed relieved sighs when he’d sat down, and he counted himself lucky for not having taken a misstep that could have undone all the slow progress his wound had made healing.
Now, he watched as Angie wiped her hands and hurried to open the door. In a moment, she and Earlene struggled to get the tree through the doorway and into the house.
“I got the best one out there, Angie!” Earlene’s voice was raised in excitement. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”
Brett couldn’t miss the way Earlene looked up at her sister, needing her approval desperately. Her question asked so much more—but he could see that Angie didn’t realize.
She only smiled at Earlene and said, “Yes, it sure is.”
Brett gave a low whistle. “Say, that is one beautiful tree, Miss Earlene.”
She glanced at him, uncertainty in her silver-gray eyes. Since they’d brought him in off the front porch, wounded, Earlene had made herself scarce. Brett figured she was embarrassed, and was probably unsure of what to say to him.
“Thanks,” she responded shortly, closing the front door behind her. “Let’s put it over here, Angie,” she said, nodding toward the corner of the room. “We can see it from outside, too, if we put it by the windows there. That way, Robber and Big Red can see it, too.”
Angie smiled. “Hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a good idea. Why shouldn’t our horses have a view of our family Christmas tree?”
Earlene’s grin widened at Angie’s agreement.
Brett wanted to help. He could’ve had that tree upright in the corner in a matter of seconds. It irked him, having to lie here on the couch, helplessly watching as they struggled to get it in place. And how was it going to stay in position? They needed something to steady it…a wooden stand, maybe…or—
Winter Magic Page 7
