In the Arms of an Angel (Brides of the West Series Book Ten)

by Rita Hestand

  In The Arms of an Angel

  Rita Hestand

  In the Arms of an Angel

  (Book Ten of the Brides of the West)

  Rita Hestand

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright© 2016 by Rita Hestand

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN # 9781311685216

  Cover Design by: Sheri McGathy

  License Note

  This book, In the Arms of A Angel is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be copied or reproduced in any manner without express written permission of the author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy or copies. If you did not purchase this book or it was not purchased for your use, please go to Smashwords.com to purchase your personal copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  In the Arms of an Angel is a work of fiction. Though some of the cities and towns actually exist they are used in a fictitious manner for purposes of this work. All characters are works of fiction and any names or characteristics similar to any person past, present or future are coincidental.

  ~Dedication~

  To all those that are handicapped remember that love comes to us all, be ready, be bold and take what God

  offers you. True love conquers all!

  God Bless

  Rita Hestand

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  About the Author

  Rita's Other Books

  South of Sweetwater

  1883

  Chapter One

  "Ma, there's a man in our barn…" Frankie came yelling in the house. He was breathing hard and his face was red from running, and he tracked mud on her fresh clean floor.

  Anna sighed.

  Anna put the dish down in the water and turned to look at her son. Fear registered for the briefest of moments, however, she'd learned to live with fear and it no longer dominated her. She pushed bad thoughts to the back of her mind. Frankie could be excitable and she knew that.

  "A man…are you sure?" She asked, her eyes rounding on her son, her glance taking in the impatience she saw in his face. His dark hair was mussed, and his blue eyes penetrated, as he stared blankly into her face.

  "Sure I'm sure, Ma?" There was an unusual impatience in his voice, and the way he stood there, not quite still, almost restless.

  "Is it anyone we know?" She tried to collect as much information as she could before she headed out to the barn.

  "No, he's a stranger. He's kind of wet and his leg is bleeding pretty bad, too. But, he's asleep Ma. His chest is moving, so I know he's alive." Frankie her nine year old son informed her. "I don't guess he could hurt anyone, in the shape he's in."

  "Oh my, he may have passed out from losing blood. Is he alone?" She asked still stalling, while she thought about what she needed to do. She learned a long time ago that thinking a situation through was usually better than acting in haste. After all, she was a woman alone with a small boy, she needed to be on alert if there was the slightest problem. Being in a wheelchair didn't allow her much dignity.

  "Yes." Frankie looked at her. "What are we gonna do, Ma?"

  Anna thought about it a minute longer. Should she take a rifle with her. If he was merely a drifter, it wouldn't be very friendly of her. But she needed to use precaution, especially if Frankie didn't recognize the man.

  Maybe if she waited long enough he'd leave on his own. But that wouldn't work either. She needed to know why he was in her barn in the first place. "We'll have to check on him. Especially if he is bleeding." Anna said, her face full of concern. She certainly didn't want anyone dying in her barn. "We can't let him bleed to death." She muttered to herself.

  "He's got a gun on his hip Ma. Do you think they sent him?" Frankie asked his eyes big with expectations.

  "What? No, of course not. They wouldn't do such a thing." She sighed heavily. "Probably just a drifter coming in from the storm. Don't you worry."

  "A drifter with a bullet in his leg." Frankie reminded her.

  "Are you sure it's a bullet wound?" She used the tone of her voice to sooth Frankie's anxiety.

  "Pretty sure Ma. There's a hole in his pants and blood is oozing out of it. I got close enough to see that. I lit the lantern so I could see him. He didn't even wake up. But the lantern went out, it needs oil."

  Anna nodded, so proud that Frankie thought of these kinds of things for her. He was such a big help.

  "If he was on our property, someone could have shot him from around here, I suppose. Could be a case of mistaken identity. We must'n jump to conclusions, though." Anna looked at her son and smiled. "We'll find out soon enough."

  "If they didn't send him, then who is he?" Frankie asked perplexed.

  "I don't know honey. We'll go find out. Probably just someone that was wounded and needed to get out of the weather last night. That was quite a storm we had last night."

  She picked up some bandages, ointment, and scissors, from the cabinet below her sink. Using all precaution, she picked up the rifle that always stood by the front door, and set it in her lap. Then she wheeled her chair out to the porch. It had stormed the night before and the earth smelled clean this morning. But it would be harder to push her chair out to the barn, the ground would be too soft from the looks of it.

  The storm had scattered tree limbs about the yard and she fretted wondering how she'd get those picked up, Frankie couldn't manage that alone.

  Full of woe, she glanced about for other damage.

  A mockingbird was singing in the tree out front momentarily distracting Anna. She loved to hear their songs. She listened for a moment, and a smile formed on her lips. Funny how something that small could make a difference in her day and attitude. Since she'd been confined to a chair, she'd learned to appreciate the smaller things in life. A singing bird, a beautiful day, and the fresh scent of a rain made her breathe in deeply and calmed her.

  "You hear that Frankie?" She asked her son as she reached for his hand.

  "He's sure singing his heart out, Ma." Frankie smiled up at the tree tops.

  "It's lovely, it's going to be a beautiful day." she smiled then glanced at the barn. "Mockingbirds are the sweetest birds on earth, Frankie. They make such music."

  A certain amount of impatience had Frankie more than a little anxious to get to the barn. Standing on one foot, then the other, Frankie indulged his mother's love of the Mockingbird.

  But Anna could already see that she was going to need some help to get to the barn this morning.

  "Frankie, I'll need help getting to the barn. The ground is too soft after all the rain yesterday. Can you push me?" Anna asked, with a slight sense of frustration. Here she was going to check on a stranger with a bleedi
ng leg, and she couldn't even get to the barn alone. Sometimes it was more than she could bear to be helpless. But she was determined not to feel sorry for herself. She'd put those days behind her. She took a calming breath.

  "Sure, Ma." Frankie set the rifle against the porch railing carefully as he rolled his Ma down the special ramp that Mr. Harvey had made for her some time ago.

  Mr. Harvey was her closest neighbor and a very nice man. He'd done a lot of things to help her out over the past four years and she was ever so grateful. Only, there was a problem with good deeds, it seemed that even the nicest people expected something back for their effort, and what Mr. Harvey wanted, she couldn't give.

  Mr. Harvey made no secret of the fact that he wanted to marry Anna, and as he said, take care of her. Problem was Anna didn't want to be taken care of. She wanted the same things every woman wanted, a loving family, and to live as independently as she could.

  She'd resigned herself to believing that would never happen. Not now!

  It was harder to push the chair on the muddy grass, like she thought, but Frankie wasn't about to give up. Together they made a good team, determined to make things work. Frankie managed to pull and nudge the wheels through the toughest of mud and finally onto the barn's doorway. He moved the wheels of the chair back and forth to scrape the mud from them, as there was hay strewn all about. Then he opened the barn door. Frankie left the door open so they could see inside.

  But as early as it was, the sun hadn't peeped out from the clouds yet.

  "Go fetch some oil for the lantern honey, it's much too dark this morning." His mother instructed.

  "Be right back, Ma." Frankie nodded. His energy never gave out, and she was thankful for that. She realized she relied on Frankie way too much, but sometimes it couldn't be helped, and she found that together, they could accomplish almost anything they set their heads to.

  Anna moved her chair along the hay easier than the mud and glanced in the first stall, she saw nothing. But she heard a grunt coming from the second stall and approached it with caution.

  "Who is there," she called out at first, softly and when he didn't answer, more sternly.

  "Nobody you know, lady. Get over here." The man called. "Let me see who I'm talking to."

  His voice sounded racked with pain.

  His curt demands sent her hackles up, so she took another deep breath. Calm, she had to stay calm.

  Anna wheeled herself closer, until she could see the man laying on the hay in the stall, a pistol pointed straight at her. Anna didn't wince or act shocked. Instead she raised her chin higher in defiance of the man. She sat there staring at him and the gun.

  A slightly arrogant smile broke over her face.

  "You won't need a gun…" She exclaimed as she wheeled herself so he could see her. "I don't think I could take you even if I was a mind."

  He stared, she laughed covering her mouth as she did so.

  "What…is that?" He exclaimed, his voice full of surprise when he saw the chair.

  "It's a chair, a wheel-chair." She corrected.

  "You can't walk?" He asked, as he sank a little lower on the hay, the pain evident on his face.

  "No…I can't." She replied simply, sobering from the admission.

  "Who are you?" His commanding voice sent an alarm through her.

  "Well now, I think I should be asking you that. But, my name is Anna Prescott, and I have a son, Frankie, he's the one that found you out here. This is our place…for now at least. Now the question is, who are you?" She asked wrinkling her brow. Anna was bound to set the boundaries. This man, whoever he might be, might have a gun, might be desperate, but he was on her property and she was going to ask the questions. Besides, at the moment he was helpless, a fact that made her feel quite equal with the man.

  "The name is Les Harper!" He snapped. "And I've lost a lot of blood…"

  "Yes, I can see that. What are you doing in my barn?"

  He frowned at her for a moment, "Well it was raining something fierce last night, and I was shot and took cover in the first place I could find, which happened to be your barn."

  "Les Harper," she mulled the name.

  When she didn't acknowledge his name he cocked his head, "Never heard of me, huh?"

  "No…should I?" She asked innocently.

  "Look," He stared at her for a long moment. "I'm all for being social, but I'm wounded, do you think you could help me out , somehow?" He asked belligerently. "I'm bleeding all over your stall and at the rate I'm bleeding, I'm gonna pass out again soon…."

  His voice held a warning she couldn't ignore. He was right.

  "I can see that for myself too. My son is bringing oil for the lantern, so we can see to bandage you." She answered. "I can't help you in the dark. And he'll have to be the one to help you…right now."

  "How does he know I'm hurt?"

  "He's the one that discovered you. He saw you earlier this morning I reckon when he came to feed the animals."

  "Oh…" Les seemed to lean back and rest for a moment. "I guess I was pretty out of it then."

  "He said he thought you were sleeping, but from the looks of it, you may have already passed out from bleeding. I'm glad you found shelter." She waited for his answer. "It was a very bad storm. We'll get you fixed up and you can be on your way soon."

  "Yes ma'am." The harshness in his voice disappeared.

  She could tell just from his tone of voice that he didn't like being helpless any more than she did.

  "There are ever so many limbs in my yard today." She sighed wondering how she'd ever get it all picked up. Some of the limbs were rather large.

  He was either ignoring her or hurting so bad he couldn’t speak. She didn't know which. He wasn't in good shape. Sleeping in wet clothes, being shot, none of it added up to being able to take care of himself.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sure you aren't interested in the weather right now, just making conversation until my son gets back." She offered a sympathetic smile.

  He didn't say anything.

  Neither spoke until Frankie came running up with the bottle of oil in his hand. He quickly took the lantern hanging on the stall gate to the door so he could see and poured the oil in, then he brought it back, lit it, and moved it so they could both see the man better. Les squinted from the light.

  "Sorry, mister." Frankie moved the lantern out of his face.

  Anna moved her chair closer. "Frankie, I'm not gonna be able to do this, so I want you to listen closely, while I tell you what to do, honey. You'll have to help him. You'll have to do just as I say."

  Frankie nodded.

  The patient way she spoke made the man eye her.

  "Now, first take the handkerchief from around his neck. Untie it and wrap it above the wound and tie it real tight. It needs to cut the circulation off so it stops the bleeding."

  She waited for him to finish that task.

  Frankie nodded and did as he was instructed. Les eyed him all the while he untied his bandana. The boy looked serious. But he didn't balk at the job either.

  "You ever done this before, son?" Les asked looking into his face.

  "No sir. What now, Ma?"

  "You'll need to take his boot on that leg off, if you can."

  Frankie moved to take the boot off. It slipped off, but was full of blood. Frankie turned it upside down to drain.

  "Good, now, take these scissors." She had grabbed it off the kitchen counter as she got the bandages. She handed them to Frankie now. "Cut the pants down his leg all the way to the end."

  Frankie did it, but the material of his pants was thick and hard to cut. It took him a while, because the man was quite long legged. Finally he finished that task.

  "You are doing fine, Frankie. Now poor the alcohol over the wound, to disinfect it."

  "Okay," Frankie took the knife and bandages, setting the bandages on the hay away from him.

  When he poured the alcohol, Les cussed before he realized he'd done it. His eyes sprang to Anna first, then the
boy.

  Frankie's head shot up, but the woman didn't budge, it was as though she expected it.

  "Sorry," he murmured.

  "I'm sorry it burns, mister, but it's got to be disinfected, like Ma said." Frankie's face was quite serious, and he held his lip with his teeth until he finished his task.

  "How old are you kid?" Les asked staring at the boy.

  "Nine."

  "I'd have thought you twelve."

  Frankie smiled.

  The stranger nodded. "You did good son."

  Anna smiled at the man, at least he appreciated Frankie's efforts.

  She waited until Frankie had done that successfully.

  The man registered the pain with silence but she saw the strain on his face, and how white he looked around the mouth.

  Frankie looked at his Ma. "Now what?"

  "Now then wrap the bandage around his leg. Tie it off at the end. Not too tight, not too lose, don't want it slipping down his leg when he stands up." She told him. "We'll have to get him in the house before I can get the bullet out of his leg."

  Frankie did as she said once more and the cowboy eyed the kid as though astounded he could do so much to help.

  "You ever done anything like this before, boy?" Les asked distracting himself from the pain for a moment.

  "No sir."

  "Nine. Well, you sure did a good job."

  "Good boy." Anna said proudly.

  "Now, let's see if you can get on your feet, we'll take you to the house and put you to bed." Anna told him.

  Les nodded. He struggled to his feet, and Frankie helped him stand.

  "Good, now put your arm around him Frankie, and help him into the house."

  "But I gotta push you…" Frankie frowned.

  "No, get him into the house first, and into the bed, and then you can come back and help me." She told him.

  "Alright Ma." Frankie wrapped his arms around Les and together they managed to get inside the house.

  Anna pushed her chair to the yard, but she was sinking in the soft earth. She waited there for Frankie.