Cindy Holby

by Angel’s End

As was the case lately, he did exactly the opposite of what he should do. Instead he stepped out of the shadows and walked straight to the statue. It stood in the middle of the street like a sentinel that never wavered from its appointed task. He couldn’t make out the base as the snow was piled around it. It had to be standing on something because it was close to nine feet tall. The outstretched wings were at least five feet wide. Snow covered the peaks and valleys of the wings and the shoulders and the carved indentations of the robes.

  Someone hauled this thing west and left it here? They must have been crazy.

  Crazy to bring it west with them. Desperate when they abandoned it after carrying it for hundreds, possibly even thousands of miles. Cade walked around to the front. The angel faced south with her arms outstretched and palms facing upward. Why? Was she supposed to be welcoming? Waiting? Praying? He stood in the snow and looked up into the carved face that had been beaten by the elements.

  An image flashed before him. One from his feverish dreams. The angel, bringing him water, bringing him relief, bringing him momentary peace.

  Leah…

  His longing for her made no more sense than the fact that he was wandering around the middle of town during a blizzard. He should get back before someone caught him and started asking questions. Cade looked once more behind him to make sure there was no sign of his passing. The heavily falling snow quickly filled his tracks. It was as if he’d never gone out. Never existed.

  He dusted his coat off before he entered the house. Dodger lay in the hallway, right outside Leah’s room, keeping watch on both her and the door. Cade knelt down and let Dodger have a sniff.

  “Nate?”

  She must be dreaming. Nate was her dead husband’s name. Still it would be difficult to explain to her why he was out and armed in the middle of the night. He moved on silent feet to the door of her room. She moved restlessly beneath the blankets. A pillow hung off the side of the bed and the kitten stood on the far corner washing a paw. Had he disturbed her or was she caught in a dream?

  She coughed, a dry hacking sound that grated hard in her throat. He stepped into her room and looked at her closely. A fine sheen of sweat covered her face. Her mouth moved, silent words spoken to the ghosts who visited her dreams. Cade slowly reached out his hand and touched her face. She was burning up with fever. The measles had struck.

  Thank God he hadn’t been stupid enough to leave town. She needed him now. The prospect didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would.

  EIGHTEEN

  “What are you doing?” Cade leaned casually against the kitchen doorjamb with his arms crossed.

  “I’m going to fix breakfast.” Leah coughed and rubbed at her watery eyes. She felt like she’d slept in a stagecoach. Her body ached all over and her eyes were swollen and watery. The light, what little bit there was, hurt and she blinked against it. The realization that she was once more talking to Pastor Key…no, Timothy…no, he said to call him Cade…wearing nothing but her gown hit her, but for the life of her she couldn’t summon up the strength to care.

  Dodger lay in the hallway with his legs before him and his head tilted to the side as he looked at her. “Where is Banks?” she asked. “Did he go to school?”

  “He stayed with his friends last night. Remember?”

  Ashes swatted at the hem of her gown. Leah pushed her fingers to her forehead. She had a pounding headache and felt confused. She wasn’t really sure what day it was. And this man, this preacher who didn’t talk like a preacher, was standing in her house and leaning against the door frame like he owned it.

  “I’ve already fixed breakfast,” he said. “Why don’t you try to eat something before you go back to bed?”

  “Why would I go back to bed?” Why was he arguing with her? Why was he even here? Why didn’t he go away and leave her alone. “I’ve got to go to work.”

  “No. You’ve got the measles. You’re going back to bed.”

  Leah sputtered. A pair of strong arms circled her and suddenly she was lifted into the air. “What are you doing? Put me down this instant.”

  “You are one stubborn woman.” He carried her into her room and in a surprisingly gentle motion, placed her on her bed. “Stay here.” He pushed her back with one strong finger to the middle of her breastbone and pulled the blankets over her legs.

  “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “Wait!” He turned, crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at her. There was no doubt in her mind that if she tried to get out of the bed he’d chase her down in a heartbeat. Leah put her hands to her face, then before her, turning them up and down to look. “Do I have spots?”

  “Not yet.” His grin was cheeky as he left. She wanted to slap him but instead flopped back onto her pillow. She heard him moving about in the kitchen. He was probably making a huge mess that she would have to clean up.

  “I don’t want to be sick,” she moaned as Ashes clawed her way onto the bed. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “This is not good…not good at all.” She coughed. What was going to happen to her? No one would be able to come and help—it would put the entire town at risk being exposed to the deadly disease. How did it happen so fast? It was only yesterday that she helped the two little boys.

  But now that she thought on it…there was a tinker who came through a few weeks ago. He’d been friendly and talkative. He’d also coughed a lot and was moist with sweat. He’d blamed it on the unseasonably warm weather they’d experienced that week and kept wiping his face with a napkin. Leah recalled it being soaking wet when she cleaned off the table after he left.

  “I bet he’s the one who gave it to the miners.” The poor man. He was more than likely dead now, caught up in the blizzard or else he’d spread it on to another unsuspecting town. Thank goodness Jake had followed that crazy donkey back to the camp.

  If she’d been exposed a few weeks ago did that mean that she’d passed it on unwittingly in the time since? Or was she only contagious once her symptoms started? We really need to have a doctor in town…

  What if Banks gets sick and needs me? What am I going to do? Leah smoothed down the blanket on either side of her. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She just couldn’t be sick. She had to be well so she could take care of her son. She threw the blankets back and moved to rise. She didn’t recall it being this difficult earlier this morning. Or maybe it was. Slowly she stood. The room spun around her. She heard a crash just as the world went black.

  Cade had a choice between the breakfast tray or Leah. Much to Dodger’s delight, he chose Leah. He caught her right before she hit the floor. Her head hung limply as he arranged her in his arms to put her back in bed. Her cheeks were bright red with fever, yet the rest of her skin was pale and shiny with moisture. He placed her carefully on the bed and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She was burning up.

  “Like I said. Stubborn. You know what you get when you’re stubborn? You get to live with a busted pump.” He pulled the blanket over her and tucked it in around her arms.

  Dodger looked up expectantly from his unexpected treat. Cade squatted beside him and picked up the broken pieces of her dishes and mopped up the spilt coffee with the napkin. “Hope she’s not mad at me when she finds out I broke her dishes.”

  Dodger nosed the floorboards for missed crumbs and followed Cade to the kitchen. He’d made a big mess while cooking her breakfast but he’d been proud of the outcome. Dodger seemed to have enjoyed it. He placed the unbroken things in the sink. A small crock sat on the sill and he opened it. The scent of roses filled his senses.

  “So that’s where it comes from.” He inhaled deeply, smiled, and put the crock back where he found it.

  Cade peered out the window. The snow had let up since dawn and streaks of blue appeared in the cloud-strewn sky. It looked as if the weather was going to take it easy on them for a while. Remind them of what a beautiful winter’s day looked like before hitting them again with another punch. That meant the townsfolk would
be out and about. Wanting to visit, wanting to get to know him. But that would be impossible since the house was quarantined.

  He’d already shoveled out a path to the outhouse, fed the chickens and collected the eggs. Leah’s little rooster had been indignant at his invasion and pecked at his ankles until he left. He’d done it all before dawn lit the sky.

  With the exception of Leah’s bedroom he’d also been over every inch of her house, including the loft. It wasn’t that he was looking for anything in particular, he was just looking. He’d only caught a few hours of sleep after his exploration of the town. He was tired and his ribs ached painfully. It would take forever for them to mend. He needed to sleep. He needed time to heal.

  Cade walked back to her room. Leah had already torn the blankets away with her restless jerking. The fever was heavy upon her. What should he do?

  His memory of having the measles was cloudy, either from time, or the fever that came with the disease. He was only seven when it struck the Cheyenne village they lived in.

  He remembered the stink of the dying and the mass grave his father prayed over.

  He was immune. He could take care of Leah with no risk of catching it. He could get her through and the town and her son wouldn’t be exposed. It was the least he could do. He owed it to her for taking care of him.

  He owed it to Timothy.

  Dodger barked with the pounding on the door. Someone had come to check on her. He opened the door to a man he’d never seen before, but he knew the type. The cut of the man’s coat was similar to Fitch’s.

  “You must be Jake Reece,” he said.

  “I am. Where’s Leah?”

  Cade could not resist. “In bed.” He didn’t even try. He’d read a book about Proverbs one time that said, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” He couldn’t say the same about his path to hell. His was paved with deliberate actions that he knew, good and well, were wrong.

  Cade arched an eyebrow at the rancher as he walked into the house and straight back to Leah’s room. Jake stopped at the doorway as if he was afraid to go in when he saw her fretful tossing and turning on the bed.

  “Have you had the measles?” Cade joined him.

  “No.” The rancher looked him up and down. Sized him up. “You?”

  “Yes. When I was seven. Once you have them you can’t catch them again. I’m immune.”

  “Someone needs to take care of her.”

  There it was. The challenge. The summons. God’s payback. Cade crossed his arms. If he stayed then he’d be caught in his lie sure as he was standing here. There would be hell to pay. Wasn’t there always, where he was concerned? Wasn’t that how he wound up in this predicament in the first place?

  Cade looked at Leah. Her braid had come loose from her movements and tendrils of it stuck to her face. He should wipe her skin for her. Cool her down as she had him. I thirst…“I will.” He felt the noose tighten around his neck. He was neatly trapped. He could practically hear God laughing at him.

  Jake’s sigh of relief was audible. “I’ll tell the Martins to keep Banks until it’s over.”

  “You don’t think she’s going to make it?”

  “If you’d seen what I saw up at that camp…” Jake turned to look at him. His eyes were a steely gray. Piercing. He was a man used to having his own way. A lot like Fitch, except without the inherent meanness. “You’re not what I expected.”

  Cade knew he shouldn’t meet him eye to eye. Knew there was a chance the rancher would see him for what he was. But the alternative was looking away and then Jake Reece would know for sure he wasn’t who he claimed to be. Instead he fell back on one of Jasper’s tricks. Just as he’d done with Ward he put Jake on the defensive. “You can tell that much about a man in five minutes’ time?”

  “Out here you have to.” Jake met his challenge head-on. “Five minutes can mean the difference between life and death.”

  Something Cade knew well enough. That direct attack didn’t work with the rancher so he went with distraction. “You have feelings for her.”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed with something. Possession? Fear? Jealousy perhaps? “That’s between me and Leah,” he said.

  Cade already knew the answer to his question. Leah admitted Jake had feelings for her the night before and her reasons for not reciprocating. He thought her foolish when she said she didn’t love Jake Reece. He didn’t say, because it wasn’t any of his business, but he thought she should marry the man. She’d be provided for. She’d have a home and a pump that worked and she wouldn’t have to worry or work. And her son would have a decent father. That was more than most had.

  But she didn’t love Jake Reece. And Cade didn’t feel like analyzing why that made him so happy.

  “I’ll be back to check on her later.” Jake turned to go. “Do you need anything? I can have food left for you.”

  “That would be helpful.” He walked Jake to the door. The rancher stood for a minute as if he didn’t know what to do.

  “I reckon you’ve seen how special Leah is,” he finally said.

  “I reckon I have,” Cade replied. He stood for a moment, considering things. Things he didn’t know, things he had no business knowing. “What happened to her husband?”

  “He died four years ago.” The answer was vague and cryptic and something Cade already knew. Jake really didn’t want to share any part of her. Cade pushed onward, suddenly desperate to know.

  “She told me that much. I want to know how he died. How she wound up here alone.”

  Jake looked at him for a moment, and then walked into the parlor. Cade had been negligent and let the fire burn low. He wanted to conserve her wood. Winter had just begun and she’d been going through it at a fast pace. Jake went to the window behind the worn sofa, pulled the lace panels aside and looked out to the street.

  “Nate Findley was our sheriff. He showed up with Leah eight years ago. They were young, Leah was fresh off the farm and still glowing from the wedding. Nate was from Kansas. His father was a U.S. marshal and had fought in the border wars.”

  “That was some bad times,” Cade said. While the rest of the nation was fighting a war, his family had been with the Cheyenne. His mother and sister died in 1864 at Sand Creek. Dead at the hands of the U.S. Army. Meanwhile Kansas and Missouri were having their own problems, which became more violent during the Civil War.

  “He answered an advertisement, just like you did. Showed up all full of himself, ready to bring law to our little town. I think he was kind of disappointed that the only thing we needed him for was to round up the boys when they got especially rowdy on a Saturday night. Sometimes they’d get into it with the miners. We just needed him to keep the peace.” Jake dropped the panel and turned to face Cade who stood up after feeding the fire.

  “He built this house.” Jake pounded his palm against the wall next to the window. “He sure knew what he was doing when he built it. Then Banks was born and things were going pretty good around here. The town was growing.”

  Ashes poked her head up from the mending basket beside the fireplace and noisily yawned at the interruption to her nap. Jake smiled and shook his head at the kitten’s obvious disdain at being awakened. Dodger, who was watching the two men closely stuck his nose in the basket and snuffed loudly. Ashes, over her earlier disdain for the dog, rolled over and swatted playfully at his nose. “Nate got Dodger from a family that settled here. He made sure he met everyone who came through town. Always made the rounds, checking on the ranches and the mining camps.”

  And then came home to his beautiful wife and baby boy. Cade looked at the rocking chair. Imagined Leah sitting in it, holding Banks in her arms, and waiting for her husband to walk through the door. Having dinner prepared and putting the baby to bed and then opening her arms…Such things he could only imagine. Jake must have imagined it also. He walked over to the chair and pushed it gently so that it rocked. Ashes left the basket and curiously watched the rocker move back and forth.

  “On
e day this kid rode into town. He was a cocky little son of a bitch. Fast with a gun. Had a couple of kills notched on his belt. Trying to make a name for himself.” Jake ran a finger over his upper lip. “There are a lot of those types out here.”

  Cade couldn’t admit that he knew the type. That he was running from a man who sounded exactly like the one Jake described.

  “Ward spent most of his time searching for the bottom of a whiskey bottle at the time. So he wasn’t much use when this guy beat Janie within an inch of her life.”

  “Janie?” Cade asked.

  “She was the…soiled dove at the Heaven’s Gate.” There were things ministers were supposed to turn a blind eye to in towns such as Angel’s End. Prostitutes were one of them.

  “It was late at night. I wasn’t here, but there was talk that you could hear her screaming. Someone came and told Nate and he went to call him out.” Jake shrugged. “Guy just up and shot Nate before he could even think about drawing his gun, and then he lit out. Nate was gut shot…bad. It took him awhile to die. A good long while.” Jake knelt down and took Dodger’s head in his hands. “Dodger howled like he was being skinned alive when Nate passed. I’ve never heard anything like it. I hope never to hear anything like it again.”

  Cade shook his head at the story. He’d probably heard hundreds like it. Knew men on both ends of it. “He died here?”

  Jake nodded. “Leah attempted to take out the bullet, but she couldn’t. Nate tried his best to bear it but he was in agony. We don’t have a doctor here, or a sheriff since Nate.”

  Or a pastor…It must have been hell for Leah.

  Jake stood and stretched as if he’d just awakened from a deep sleep. “Leah won’t abide a gun now. She hates them. Won’t let anyone even mention anything about shooting in front of Banks. Going to be hard on that kid when he gets older.” He stood before Cade now with his gray eyes boring into him. “I’m all for peace and goodwill but you’ve got to know that things are different in the west than they are in Ohio. There are men who would just as soon shoot you as look at you, and they’ll do it in a heartbeat.”