by Connie Mason
"If that's all you've come to say," Angela said coolly, "you can leave."
Dexter ignored her. "What are your plans, my dear?"
"I'm returning to the Golden Angel to run my mine, not that it's any of your business."
"Without Gentry?" he goaded.
"Do you see him anywhere around?"
"Actually, I saw him ride out of town yesterday. That's another reason I stuck around. I took the liberty of purchasing a ticket for you on the afternoon stage."
"I can buy my own ticket," Angela retorted.
"Of course, my dear, I but saved you the trouble. With Gentry gone I assumed you'd be anxious to leave town. The ungrateful wretch owes you his life. He should have never skipped town and left you stranded."
"You don't know anything, Angela bit out. She lowered her head, unwilling to allow Dexter a glimpse of her heartbreak.
"Perhaps you're right, Angela. Let's call a truce. If Chandler still wants to marry you he's on his own. I won't interfere. I truly want to be of help to you."
Angela didn't believe him for a minute. But perhaps, she thought sagely, she could use him to glean the truth from Chandler about his involvement in Brady Baxter's murder. As greedy as she knew Dexter to be, she suspected he'd agree to anything to keep in her good graces.
"Very well, a truce," Angela offered. "But with one condition."
"And that condition?" Dexter asked warily.
"I want no interference from you in any of my dealings, whether they concern the mine or Anson Chandler."
Though Rafe had left her, she still intended to seek the truth regarding Brady Baxter's murder. Proving Rafe's innocence would restore her faith in her judgment, if nothing else.
Dexter's eyebrows shot upward. "Are you saying you're seriously considering Chandler's suit?"
"I'm admitting nothing except that Anson and I are currently on friendly terms. Or we were until Rafe abducted me."
"Gentry abducted you?" Dexter asked, his attention sharpening.
Angela could have bitten her tongue. That's not what she'd meant to say at all. "I misspoke," she amended. "There was no force involved. I left with Rafe of my own free will."
"I hope you've learned your lesson," Dexter maintained. "Very well, I agree to your terms. The stage leaves at two this afternoon. I'll wait for you at the Wells Fargo office."
Angela saw no reason to delay her departure. Nothing was holding her back. Rafe was gone, but her anger and her faith in God would sustain her.
Angela left the hotel well in advance of the time she was to board the stage. It took the better part of an hour to purchase a bag in which to pack her clothing, sell her horse and saddle and check out of the hotel. The coach was already loading when she arrived at the Wells Fargo office.
"I feared you'd changed your mind," he said, apparently relieved to see her.
"No reason for me to stick around Dodge City," Angela replied as Dexter gave her bag to the driver to stash on top of the conveyance and handed her into the stagecoach.
Then they were off. Squeezed between her stepfather and a traveling salesmen who kept eyeing her with undisguised appreciation, Angela didn't look forward to the long trip back to Canyon City. As the horses jolted forward, she glanced out the back window. She'd always remember Dodge City as a place where she'd experienced the gamut of emotions. Happiness, sadness, betrayal, abandonment, anger.
Angela tried to envision a future without Rafe but all she saw was darkness. The sunshine suddenly lost its sparkle and the clouds scudding across the sky turned gray and forbidding.
Chapter Fifteen
Rafe approached the city of Ordway with every intention of giving it a wide berth. Unfortunately things didn't turn out the way he'd planned. He had camped for the night some distance from the town and was feasting on rabbit he'd shot for his supper when he was surprised by unexpected visitors.
He heard them tramping in the woods and kept his hand poised on his gun as they approached. He relaxed somewhat when they made no attempt to sneak up on him, leading him to believe his visitors meant him no harm. He watched warily as two men rode to the edge of his camp and dismounted.
"Howdy, mister. Mind if we share your fire?" one of the men asked. "We have our own food."
"Damn! Rafe cursed beneath his breath. Sheriff Tattersal and one of his deputies. Of all the rotten luck. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and turned his face into the shadows.
"Howdy. Help yourself to the fire. I'm kind of short on supplies right now so if you want coffee you'll have to make your own."
"I'm Sheriff Tattersal and this is Deputy Wilton. We've plenty of supplies. We've been trailing an outlaw who robbed a stage and killed a man. Meet anyone on the road today?"
"Not a soul, sheriff," Rafe replied.
"Are you traveling east or west?"
"West. Left Dodge City a couple a few days ago."
"Damn! Looks like we're following a cold trail, Wilton. I suppose we should return to Ordway and wait for another lead to come along."
"I can continue on if you like," Wilton offered.
"No, sooner or later we'll get him. We've been gone too long as it is," Tattersal said.
The two lawmen unpacked their food, poured water from their canteens into a coffeepot, then sat down to wait for the coffee to perk.
Rafe didn't like the way the sheriff kept staring at him. If he was recognized his goose was cooked. In the thick silence, Rafe feared his thoughts were loud enough to be heard. His suspicions were confirmed when Tattersal said, "Say, I know you. You're Rafe Gentry."
Rafe's breath escaped in a loud whoosh. His hand was halfway to his gun when Tattersal said, "I've been hoping you'd return one day so I could apologize for charging you with robbing the stage and murder. I shouldn't have taken the word of a man I didn't know. I should have realized Sister Angela wouldn't have lied. But when Desmond Dexter came to town and told that wild story about you, I jumped to the wrong conclusion."
"Apologize?" Rafe repeated, dumbfounded.
"We caught one of the outlaws responsible for those murders five days ago. He and his partner robbed another stage and killed the driver. One of the outlaws was mortally wounded by the guard riding shotgun and was brought to town. Before he died he confessed to helping his partner kill those five people in that earlier robbery. I reckon he wanted to clear his conscience before meeting his maker."
"You mean I've been exonerated?" Rafe asked, disbelief turning to joy. He wanted to jump up and shout but restrained himself.
"Completely," Tattersal said. "I've already notified the proper authorities and recalled the wanted posters naming you a killer. Of course," he added sternly, "there is still that bank robbery charge against you."
"Not any more," Rafe grinned. "I've been vindicated and have the pardon to prove it."
Rafe reached into his pocket and handed Tattersal the pardon. Tattersal read it and handed it back.
"Congratulations. I hope you'll accept my apology. I fear those false charges complicated your life."
Rafe gave a derisive snort. Complicate his life? It damn near ruined it. He'd lost Angel because of those charges and the ones stemming from Brady Baxter's death. But suddenly things were beginning to look up.
"Those false charges all but ruined my life," Rafe said with a bitterness he couldn't quite conceal.
"How is that pretty little Sister Angela?" Wilton asked. "Did you leave her in Canyon City?"
"No, she's...er...in Dodge City. She booked passage to Canyon City on the stage."
The sheriff and his deputy fell silent as they ate their food and drank their coffee. Rafe helped himself to the coffee and sipped thoughtfully.
"You did say you were returning to Ordway tomorrow, didn't you?" Rafe asked.
"Sure did," Tattersal allowed.
"Might I accompany you? Angela's stepfather claims we were never married. Both Reverend Conrad's records and our marriage paper were destroyed. No written proof of our marriage exists. Since our wedding was witnesse
d by many of your townspeople, I thought you might help me round up signatures of those willing to swear that a marriage took place."
"My name will top the list," Tattersal said.
"And mine will be next," Wilton averred.
"I was going to ask you to ride with us, anyway," Tattersal revealed. "You'll want something to prove you're no longer wanted for murder."
"I would welcome written proof that I've been cleared of murder charges," Rafe said, grateful to have yet another crime erased from his record.
Two down and one to go, Rafe thought. For the first time in a very long time he had reason to be optimistic. But he feared it was too late. Angel was the only thing that really mattered to him and he'd been forced to hurt her, perhaps beyond repair.
Rafe rode to Ordway with Tattersal and Wilton the next day. Tattersal wrote up an affidavit and Rafe spent most of the day obtaining signatures of people who had witnessed his marriage to Angel. He didn't know why he bothered for she probably hated him, but for some reason it seemed important to prove, if only for his own benefit, that he and Angel had a legal marriage.
There was another reason Rafe needed to prove he and Angel were husband and wife, one he preferred not to dwell upon but could be vitally important. Should Angel be carrying his child, no one could question its legitimacy if a legal marriage was substantiated.
The following day Rafe left Ordway with a full pardon for the stagecoach robbery and subsequent murders in his possession. He also carried a document bearing the signatures of dozens of people who had witnessed his marriage to Angel. Before he'd met up with Sheriff Tattersal, Rafe had intended to head north to Montana in hopes of running into Jess. Rafe knew Jess would be happy as hell to learn he was a free man and so he could hang up his shingle and practice the profession he so loved. As for Sam, he had no idea where to find his youngest brother. The hellraiser could be anywhere.
So many things had changed now. Rafe no longer felt the hangman breathing down his neck. With two charges against him dismissed, he had but to prove himself innocent of killing Baxter before he'd be totally free to win back Angel's love. With that in mind, Rafe set his sights on Canyon City. He had a lot of miles to traverse and plenty of time to ponder all the ways in which he could clear his name and gain back his life.
Rafe knew he hadn't set an easy task for himself. Baxter's death was a complete mystery. Angela believed Chandler was somehow involved, but proving it wasn't going to be easy. He could ride into Canyon City and display his pardons before the sheriff but that didn't mean he would be automatically cleared of Baxter's murder. No, his pardons weren't going to help him one damn bit in this instance. The only way to ferret out the killer, he decided, was by laying low and waiting for the real killer to make a mistake and reveal himself. He supposed a good place to start was with Anson Chandler.
Weary beyond words and carrying a world of hurt buried deep inside her aching heart, Angela stepped off the stage in Ordway to stretch her legs and have a bite to eat when the conveyance made a regular stop in that city to pick up and discharge passengers.
Angela wasn't all that hungry but knew she had to eat to keep up her strength for the rest of the grueling trip. Lost in contemplation, she started violently when she felt someone grip her arm. She relaxed somewhat but remained vigilant when Dexter said, "There's a restaurant across the street. We have an hour before the stage leaves."
Angela nodded curtly and shook free of Dexter's grasp. She couldn't stand his touch; he made her skin crawl. They had crossed the street and turned into the restaurant when she heard someone calling her name.
"Sister Angela, do you have a moment?"
Angela turned toward the voice and saw Sheriff Tattersal hurrying toward her. A shiver of apprehension slid down her spine. What could the sheriff want with her? Did it involve Rafe?
"Sheriff Tattersal, how nice to see you again."
"And I you, Sister Angela."
"You remember my stepfather, don't you?"
Tattersal aimed a frown in Dexter's direction. "Indeed I do. I'd like a word with him, too." He turned back to Angela with a smile. "I saw your husband a day or two ago."
Angela blanched. "My husband?"
"Yes, Rafe Gentry. He said you'd be coming through on the stage. He didn't mention that you'd be accompanied by your stepfather. I hardly thought you'd welcome Mr. Dexter's company after what he did to you and Mr. Gentry."
"Now see here, sheriff," Dexter blustered.
"No, you see here, Mr. Dexter," Tattersal said, poking him in the chest with his forefinger. "You led me to believe Mr. Gentry was an outlaw when in truth he was exactly what Sister Angela claimed him to be. Her fiancé. You even named another man as her intended."
"But Gentry is an outlaw," Dexter argued. "What about the stagecoach robbery? And those innocent people he killed?"
"We caught one of the men responsible," Tattersal elaborated. "He gave a deathbed confession. I'm confident we'll have the other man in custody very soon. And by the way, Gentry has a full pardon in his possession for the bank robbery in Dodge City. Another case of mistaken identity, no doubt."
"No doubt," Dexter intoned dryly. "But there's still that murder..."
Angela poked Dexter in the ribs, her look warning him to keep silent if he expected to remain in her good will. "My stepfather was referring to Rafe's pardon. You did say the murder charges were dropped against Rafe, didn't you?"
"I did indeed, Sister Angela. But if I were you I'd be careful who I trust in the future. Your stepfather doesn't seem to have your best interests at heart."
"I'm fully aware of my stepfather's failings, sheriff," Angela asserted, "but thank you for the warning."
"Well, ma'am, I'd best get on with my business. Have a good trip." He tipped his hat and walked away.
"Gentry must have the devil's own luck," Dexter muttered darkly.
"I'm happy for him despite the fact I no longer have deep feelings for the man," Angela claimed. "Nothing he does matters to me any more."
"You're wise, my dear. Gentry is unworthy of you," Dexter goaded. "Only a heel would abandon you in a strange city. What if I hadn't been available to escort you back to the Golden Angel?"
"I imagine I'd survive," Angela said with a hint of sarcasm.
Her retort seemed to infuriate Dexter but he kept his thoughts to himself as they entered the restaurant and ordered their meal. Angela picked at her food until it was time to board the stage for the next leg of her journey.
The rattle of traces and pounding of hooves kept Angela from dozing in the hot coach as the other passengers were doing. She rested her head against the cushion and stared out the window, recalling the cold words Rafe had written in his note. With a few short sentences he had shattered her life. If he were to turn up tomorrow and beg for forgiveness she'd deny him. Never would she give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly he had hurt her, how completely he had destroyed her happiness.
She'd been a fool to think Rafe needed her. She'd known from the beginning he wasn't a marrying man. She'd forced him into marriage, for God's sake! How could she not expect him to bow out when he'd had his fill of her?
Even feeling as she did, she was still pleased to learn he'd been given pardons for crimes he hadn't committed. No man deserved to be falsely accused. No Christian would allow that travesty to continue. Christian duty was her only reason for wanting to find Baxter's killer, she told herself. Even if she never saw Rafe again she'd have the satisfaction of knowing her ingenuity and persistence had won his freedom.
Anson Chandler was on hand to meet the stagecoach when it arrived in Canyon City. Dexter had wired Chandler from Pueblo, informing him when time to meet the stage.
"I never expected to see you and Angela traveling together on the same stage," Chandler said by way of greeting. "Where did you disappear to, Angela?"
"That's a long story, Anson, one I'll recount later," Dexter said. "Did you bring the buckboard?"
"Of course," Chandler said
. "So glad you decided to return, Angela." His voice held a note of derision.
"How are things at the mine?" Angela asked, ignoring his sarcasm.
"Couldn't be better. I think I have a flair for this kind of thing."
"Too bad you don't have a flair for courting," Dexter muttered derisively.
Angela bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Obviously Anson and her stepfather still harbored hopes of sharing her money. They could believe what they wanted, but it simply wasn't going to happen. The only reason Chandler was still around was because she had a murder to solve and Chandler was the prime suspect.
Chandler loaded the bags in the buckboard and climbed onto the driver's seat. Dexter handed Angela up and crowded in beside her.
"I'd like to stop off at Lawyer Goodman's office before going up to the mine," Angela said as Chandler drove through town.
"Why?" Chandler asked sharply.
"Does Mr. Goodman know I left town?"
"I informed both him and the sheriff that you were missing. You really gave us a fright, Angela," he scolded. "The sheriff formed a search party but gave up after a couple of days. The obvious conclusion was that you took off with Rafe Gentry. I knew you'd return, though. The Golden Angel means too much to you, you'd never abandon it. We were right about Gentry, weren't we? You did run off with him, didn't you?"
Angela answer did nothing to appease his anger.
"I don't have to explain my actions to you, Anson."
"I won't have my future wife playing whore for an outlaw!" he exploded.
"Uh, Anson," Dexter cautioned, "You'd be better served to hold your tongue. I suggest you apologize."
Chandler must have heeded the warning in Dexter's voice for he turned to Angela and said, "Forgive me, Angela, but surely you understand my concern when I discovered you had suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night."
"I don't care what you think of me, Anson," Angela snapped. "The only reason I suffer your presence at the mine is because the miners refuse to work for a woman."
"I'm determined to change your mind," Anson said. "I want you for my wife and you need a man to look after you."
