by Connie Mason
After a moment's hesitation, Angela took a deep breath and said, "Desmond Dexter is my stepfather and Anson Chandler is the man he intends for me to marry. Desmond paid scant attention to me until he learned my father had died and left me half interest in a gold mine near Canyon City. One day he brought Anson Chandler around, insisting that I marry him. A wedding date was set but I had no intention of marrying that gold digger."
"What about your mother?"
"She passed away a few weeks before I received news of my father's death. I hadn't seen Father since I was ten years old, but we kept in touch. Mama divorced him years ago and moved to Wichita. She hated Colorado and the gold camps. A few years later she married Desmond. I detested him on sight."
"So you left without telling anyone. You must have done some fancy talking to get the Conrads to take you along with them."
"They needed a someone to lead the singing and I was qualified. I convinced them that I had my stepfather's blessing."
"You invented that story about a fiancé waiting for you in Pueblo, didn't you?"
"Yes. It was the only way Reverend Conrad would let me remain in Pueblo at the end of the circuit. After Pueblo, the Conrads were to return to their home base in Wichita. I led them to believe my fiancé and I would marry in Pueblo and continue on to the mine together."
"Surely you weren't so naive as to think Dexter and Chandler wouldn't follow you."
"I was hoping they wouldn't, but I should have known they were too greedy not to follow."
Rafe shook his head. "You know, lady, you're plumb loco. What made you think you could reach your father's mine on your own? You're so damn innocent it's disgusting. You have no idea of the dangers awaiting a woman traveling alone in this day and age. You had a taste of it in Garden City, that should have been warning enough."
"I couldn't stay in Wichita and marry Anson Chandler," Angela insisted. "I have a home waiting for me out here, all I had to do was get to it. Reverend Conrad was a godsend at a time when I needed him. I figured it would be simple matter to get to the mine from Pueblo. Father wrote that Canyon City is but thirty miles from Pueblo, and the mine but three miles up Red Rock Canyon. I figured I could make it in two days."
"That's under good conditions. What if you had to contend with a broken axle, or Indians, or men bent on mayhem?"
Angela knew Rafe was right but she hadn't let herself think about that. Besides, until Ordway and the Indian scare, the plan was for the Conrads to take the revival to Pueblo before returning home. She had no idea when she left Wichita that things would turn out the way they did. If not for unanticipated circumstances she would be traveling with the Conrads to Pueblo instead of with a man who now had the right to call himself her husband.
"When I left Wichita the plan was for the Conrads to take the revival all the way to Pueblo. It doesn't matter if things didn't work out that way. The distance between Canyon City and Pueblo isn't so far that I couldn't travel alone."
"What did you intend to tell the reverend when your fiancé failed to show up in Pueblo?"
Angela shrugged. "That he was late in arriving."
"And what did you intend to do when your stepfather and fiancé found you, Angel?"
"Don't call that man my fiancé," Angela bristled angrily. "And don't call me Angel."
"Why not? It fits."
In his letters, her father had always referred to her as his Angel. It had been a very private thing between them. Hearing that special endearment on another man's lips seemed almost sacrilegious.
"I prefer Angela," she said tartly.
Rafe grinned. "I prefer Angel.
She heaved an exasperated sigh, abandoning the subject for the time being. "Do you think Desmond and Anson will give up on me when I don't show up in Pueblo?"
"I doubt it. They didn't appear to be the type to give up easily. Neither man struck me as being particularly likable. Or trustworthy, and I'm a pretty good judge of character. I heard them say that if you didn't show up in a couple of days they would wire Ordway to see what happened to you."
"I knew it was too much to hope for," Angela bit out. "Consider me warned. You can leave now, if you'd like."
Rafe sent her a disgruntled look. "I thought I'd string along with you as far as the mine."
Angela fell silent as she contemplated three, possibly four days and nights in Rafe Gentry's daunting company. Something inexplicable drew her to this man, though she willed it otherwise. And it terrified her. She had no idea who or what Rafe Gentry was.
"I'm going to start looking for a campsite," Rafe said as the sky began to darken and the forest around them thickened. The horses are tiring. A storm is brewing over the mountains and I don't want us to be caught in it while we're still on the road."
"Are you sure it's safe to stop? What about Desmond and Anson?"
"There's plenty of cover hereabouts. I'll pull into the first likely spot I see. I don't think we'll have to worry about them for a day or two."
Truth be known, Angela was more concerned about being alone with Rafe. Spending another night with him was a nerve-wracking proposition. She liked his kisses too well. If she wasn't careful, Rafe Gentry might become too important to her, and instinct told her he wasn't anxious to shoulder responsibility.
Rafe found a perfect campsite in a secluded spot nestled against a wooded hillside. Thick trees surrounded them; overhanging branches protected them from unwanted company.
"I intended to buy supplies in Pueblo," Angela said as Rafe lifted her down from the wagon. "There isn't much to eat besides beans and cornbread."
"Game is plentiful in these parts. Start a fire and make the cornbread. I'll take care of the horses and hunt fresh meat for our supper."
Rafe returned thirty minutes later with two plump rabbits, which he had skinned and spitted. He set them over the fire to cook.
"Coffee smells good," he said. "I found a mountain stream not far from here if you've a mind to wash up. I notched the birches so you can find your way. I'll watch the rabbits if you want to go there before it gets too dark."
Angela gathered towel and soap and followed the trail Rafe had marked. She found the stream with little difficulty and washed quickly in the frigid water. When she returned to the campsite, she found Rafe sitting on a rock, sucking on a cup filled with steaming coffee. She saw he had laid out plates and silverware and set them nearby. He poured coffee into a second cup and handed it to her. The warm liquid slid down her throat and settled comfortably in her stomach.
A rumble of thunder and flash of lightning suddenly split the silence. Wind sloughed through the trees, showering them with sparks from the fire.
"I was afraid this was going to happen," Rafe said as he eyed the ominous sky. "Take the food inside the wagon and light the lantern. I'll put out the fire and join you. We'll have to finish our meal inside. Hurry," he urged as the first raindrops hit the ground.
Before the deluge hit, they were safely ensconced in the wagon with the remains of their feast spread around them.
"I hope you don't mind sharing your sleeping quarters tonight, Angel," Rafe said.
His voice was edged with roughness as he considered the coming night. Being in the same space, breathing the same air as his Angel wasn't going to be easy. Keeping his hands off of her was going to be the most difficult thing he'd ever done. The only way he'd touch her was if she wanted it, and he knew damn well that wasn't going to happen.
"Perhaps it will stop raining soon and you can sleep beneath the wagon," Angela said hopefully. "This is a small wagon and I don't think we'd..."
"Shall we get ready for bed, Angel?" Rafe said, cutting her off in mid-sentence.
Open-mouthed, she stared at him as if he were the devil come to earth to tempt her.
Chapter Three
Rafe knew exactly what Angel was thinking for he was thinking the same thing, in vivid color. Sighing regretfully, he pushed his wayward thoughts aside. "Don't worry. I won't touch you unless you want me to."
/>
The color slowly returned to her face. "I...wasn't worried." She dug into a chest and handed him two blankets and a pillow folded into a bedroll. "This is the best I can offer. There's just enough floor space for you to stretch out."
Rafe stared a the bedroll, then at the cot, which looked big enough for two, and frowned. "We could share the cot."
Her eyebrows rose until they nearly touched her hairline. "I think not. The bedroll will have to suffice."
Grumbling beneath his breath, Rafe spread out the bedroll and proceeded to take off his shirt.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't sleep in my clothes. It's going to be a long night, I suggest you get into your sleeping gear."
His shirt hit the floor. When he worked open the buttons on his tan twill trousers, Angela blushed every way to Sunday and turned her head. With studied calm, Rafe removed his trousers but not his underwear and scooted down between the blankets.
"I'm covered," he said, eyeing Angel's rigid back. "You can look now."
Angela turned around slowly, her gaze finding him stretched out on the floor. Her sigh of relief was so exaggerated he couldn't help grinning. "Are you going to get undressed?"
"I'm fine just like I am," she said as she sat on the bunk to remove her shoes and stockings.
"I'll turn around so you can have some privacy," Rafe said magnanimously, though he was feeling far from magnanimous. When Angela looked unconvinced, he said, "Don't you trust me?"
"About as far as I can throw you. You promise not to look?"
"You have my word."
"Very well, turn around."
Rafe turned to face the opposite direction. He heard the rustle of cloth and felt himself grow thick and harden. He remembered another night, her long legs and womanly curves temptingly limned against a backdrop of canvas. He stifled a groan and willed his wayward body to subside. When he heard her slide into bed, he heaved a shaky sigh and flopped over on his stomach. He expected little sleep this night.
Rain lashed the wagon. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed. It was still pouring when the dull gray of morning chased away the murky darkness. Rafe pulled on his clothing and jammed his hat down on his head. Angel was still sleeping as he quietly left the wagon. He had stashed his saddlebags beneath the wagon last night and he ducked down to remove his slicker. Then he ventured out into the rain.
The ground squished beneath his feet and Rafe spit out a curse. Getting bogged down in ankle deep mud didn't appeal to him. He relieved himself, washed up at the stream and returned to the wagon. Angela was up when he returned, setting leftovers from last night out for the breakfast.
"It's damn...er...darn nasty out," Rafe said as he shook out his hat and slicker and climbed over the tailgate.
The wagon seemed to shrink as Rafe filled it with his broad form. Angela felt intimidated by his very presence, although she had to admit that he had acted the gentleman last night. He could have forced her and she couldn't have done a thing about it, but he hadn't.
"Are you hungry? There's leftovers from last night. Help yourself," she said as she drew her shawl over her head and prepared to leave the protection of the wagon. "I won't be gone long."
Seated on his bedroll, Rafe was chewing contentedly on cold rabbit and cornbread when Angela returned. The hem of her skirt was soaking wet and so were her shoes. As she removed her shawl, one wet shoe slid out from beneath her and she fell, right into Rafe's lap. His arms went around her. His skin felt hot against her cool flesh.
"You're cold."
Angela shivered, but she doubted it was from cold. Being held by Rafe was definitely disconcerting. She stared at him through lashes spiked with raindrops.
"You're soaked through. Let's get those wet clothes off of you," Rafe said.
Deftly he undid the buttons on the front of her blouse. Before she knew what he intended, he had pulled her blouse down her shoulders and out of her waistband. She made a grab for it as he pulled it off, but it was too late. Her blouse flew across the wagon.
"Now the skirt," Rafe said, tugging on her waistband. The skirt went the way of the blouse. Then he removed a blanket from his bedroll and placed it around her shoulders, cradling her against him until she stopped shaking.
"Isn't that better?"
"You had no right," she mumbled against the warmth of his chest.
Amusement colored his words. "I'm probably the only man who has the right."
She popped her head out of the blanket. "You can release me now."
"Not on your life, Angel. I've wanted to hold you like this for a very long time. Too bad it took a fall to land you in my arms. Relax, I told you I wouldn't do anything you didn't want."
"I don't want to be held."
"Like hell." A knowing smile touched his eyes. "You like to be kissed, too."
As if to prove his point, his mouth came down hard on hers. The kiss was thorough, fierce, devastating, an erotic rampage upon her senses. When he finally lifted his mouth, she felt all ragged inside.
Her heart jumped violently, banging against her ribs. She made a faint sound of apprehension but his mouth smothered it as he kissed her again, penetrating her with his tongue. She felt the flat of his palm move up between her legs, spreading them gently; she tried to squirm away. Her breath hitched as he stroked the silky inner skin, his hold on her tightening. His mouth moved hungrily over hers, tasting of rain and the sizzling tang of lightning.
She moaned low in her throat as her body caught fire and simmered with a sensuality she never knew she possessed. She felt flushed and warm, her skin keenly sensitive. The flesh where his hand caressed felt deliciously chafed, and deep inside, she felt all soft and slick. She knew she had to stop this madness before he wits deserted her.
When Rafe's mouth drifted from her lips to caress the pulse point on her throat, Angela somehow found the strength to turn her face away when he would have taken her lips again. Undaunted, he pushed the blanket aside, pulled down her chemise, and pressed his warm mouth to her breast.
"Rafe! You promised."
"I want you, Angel. I want to make love to you."
"No. I...can't. I don't know you. When you leave I'll never see you again. It's best we both forget our...unusual marriage and get on with our lives. Please don't do this to me. Someday I hope to marry a man who loves me."
His gunmetal eyes were shuttered as his arms fell away. There were small lines etched at the corners of his eyes and mouth and his skin was pulled taut over his cheekbones. A muscle worked in his jaw. Angela tensed, sensing his anger, then she relaxed when she felt the last dregs of tension draining from his body. She rose shakily from his lap, eyeing him warily, relieved when he made no move to stop her. With lethal grace, he pushed to his feet. Before he left the cramped confines of the wagon, he paused and smoothed his rough palm along her cheek.
His voice held a note of tenderness that startled her. "I hope you find that man, Angel."
She heard him moving around outside, hitching the horses to the wagon, and she busied herself with setting the wagon to rights. She moved slowly. Her body felt sluggish, as if the blood had thickened in her veins. Her first taste of passion had left her undeniably wanting, though she had no idea what she wanted. But she was willing to bet that Rafe Gentry knew precisely what she craved, and was eager to give it to her.
They bypassed Pueblo that day and embarked on the last leg of their journey that would take them to Canyon City. The foothills gave way to craggy mountains interspersed with deep canyons. They followed a rocky trail that had been cut through the wilderness, surrounded by thickly forested hillsides. As the day wore on Angela realized they would have to camp yet another night on the trail. And that worried her.
"What are your plans once we reach Canyon City, Rafe?" Angela asked, disrupting the charged silence that hung between them.
Rafe shrugged. "Keep riding, I suppose. It's a big world out there. I've seen all of the South and East during the war that I care to see. Thought I'd e
xplore the West for a while. At least until it's time to meet my brothers in Denver next year."
"You have brothers?"
"Two. Jess and Sam."
"What about your parents?"
"Pa took a fatal bullet early in the war. Ma died three years ago. There's no one else."
"What are your brothers like? I've always regretted that I had no brothers or sisters."
"My brothers are good men. Jess is a doctor."
"Where are they now?"
Rafe wished he knew. "You ask too many questions. Shall we look for a campsite? We can pull beneath that ledge up yonder. I don't see any water nearby but our canteens are full and the water barrel still has some water in it."
"Are you sure we can't make it to Canyon City before dark?"
"I'd rather err on the safe side."
A wolf howled and Angela sidled closer to Rafe. "Was that a wolf?"
"These mountains are full of wild animals. Wolves, bears, panthers, mountain lions, to name a few."
He felt her shiver and marveled once again at her innocence. She'd had no idea what she was getting herself into when she left Wichita.
"Better stick close to the wagon tonight. Those wolves sound hungry. I'll keep a fire going to scare them away."
"I'm not afraid. I lived here until I was ten years old and don't ever recall not feeling safe. I love the mountains. I dreamed of returning one day. Only I expected my father to be alive when I returned."
"With any luck we'll be in Canyon City tomorrow," Rafe said. "How did your father die?"
"I was told it was an accident. But I don't believe it. His last letter hinted that something unforeseen might happen to him, and if it did, he said his partner wasn't to be trusted."
"You think your father's death wasn't an accident?"
"That's what I believe. Shortly after I received word of Father's death, a letter arrived from Brady Baxter, his partner. Baxter said the Golden Angel had played out, and he offered to buy my share at an exorbitant price. If it was worthless, why was he willing to pay so much for it?
