A Visitation of Angels

by Carolyn Haines

  She snuggled into my arms, still moaning softly as if she understood what had happened to her mother. I paced the bedroom, singing softly and rocking her. Gradually she calmed and began the throaty noise that sounded like a purr. If I thought of Elizabeth, Callie grew agitated. I put up a wall between my feelings for Elizabeth and the baby. To keep Callie calm, I had to. When I could no longer ignore the desperation in the quick exchanges between Reginald and Michael, I took Callie into the back bedroom. I forced my mind to picture flowers and sunshine and the things of nature that gave comfort, and the baby was soothed.

  She finally fell asleep and I tucked her on the bed, surrounded by pillows, and made myself go back to the kitchen.

  “She’s alive,” Reginald said. His dark hair hung in his eyes and sweat covered his face and upper body. Michael, too, looked wrung out.

  “We need a doctor,” Michael said. “I did what I could.”

  “I can get one.”

  “No.” Reginald was firm.

  “Yes.” I was calm. “I’m the best rider, the lightest. I can ride to Doctor Wainwright’s office and send him out here.”

  “If they catch you, they won’t hesitate to harm you.”

  I looked at Michael. “I don’t think Gabriel will let them.”

  He was supporting Elizabeth’s head in his lap as Reginald made compresses for her shoulder. “You can’t trust Gabriel.”

  “I don’t. But I believe I have more value alive than dead.”

  He didn’t argue with that, and I knew I’d won. Whatever Michael knew about the entity that visited Elizabeth and me, he believed Gabriel would help us avoid harm if possible. Why was another matter, and something I could not think about right now.

  “I can leave out the back of the barn. It won’t take me long to get to Mission, and the doctor’s house is just on the other side of town. I know he’s in with Lucais and that crew, but even one of the watchers said himself that they shouldn’t have shot Elizabeth. I don’t think the doctor will refuse to help a wounded woman. I’ll send help as quickly as I can.”

  “Be safe.” Reginald had made a clean compress and he was pressing on Elizabeth’s wound. The bleeding had slowed, but she was still unconscious.

  “The baby is in the back bedroom. She’s sleeping, but listen for her. If you hold her, try not to think about Elizabeth. It upsets her.” My stomach clenched at the thought of leaving Callie. The mule kick of maternal love was unexpected. She wasn’t my baby, but until Elizabeth was better, she was my responsibility. “Are you sure you can manage her?”

  “There’s a woman on the floor who’s been shot and you ask if we can diaper a baby?” Reginald gave me a wry smile. “Get going. And hurry. We’ve almost stopped the bleeding, but I don’t know what else to do. That bullet is going to have to come out.”

  “Raissa?” Michael spoke.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t stop for anyone. Run them down if you have to. The horse will help you. Trust her.”

  I nodded and hurried back to the bedroom to find a pair of Elizabeth’s dungarees that she wore to do farm work. I put them on with her boots and one of her shirts, and I pulled a brimmed gardening hat over my bobbed hair. This wasn’t a ride for sidesaddle. It wouldn’t matter how I was riding if I was caught, and I had much better control astride. I hurried out the back door, slipped over to the barn, and whistled up the horse. She came as if she had been waiting for me.

  I saddled her quickly and mounted with ease. The minute Mariah felt my weight atop her, she snorted, ready for a run. I held her in as we walked out the back of the barn. I looked everywhere, but there was no sign of the watchers. Cowards that they were, they’d likely raced back to town, afraid there would be a murder warrant out for them. For shooting an unarmed woman in her own house. By god, I would see that they paid.

  When we made the edge of the woods, I let Mariah have her head. She started down the trail at a brisk trot that shifted into an easy canter and finally an all-out gallop. I leaned low on her neck, twisting my fingers in her mane.

  The mare was an athlete, and I felt completely secure in the regular saddle with both legs in use to steady my balance. We cut through the woods, relying on the angle of the sun for a northerly direction from Elizabeth’s farm. When we came to a fallen tree, Mariah sailed over it, and I thought of a young girl in West Point, Mississippi, who’d ridden a silver white horse like a moon wraith. I didn’t have her talent or style, but I had desperation. Elizabeth was counting on me to make this ride. So was Callie.

  The footing in the forest was good, but I watched closely for holes. We followed a barely discernable trail that came out at a dirt road. I had no idea where I was, but I started down the path.

  The road was empty for several miles, until I saw a farm truck up ahead. It was parked on the side of the road and a woman with two children sat in the shade of a tree, waiting for something. I approached with caution. She stood, and the fear was plain in her expression. When she realized I was a woman, she was shocked, but she also relaxed.

  “How far to town?” I asked.

  “Another two miles.” She pointed in the direction I was going. “Hey, be careful.”

  I wanted to ask her what she knew of me, but I didn’t. “Are you okay?”

  She thought before she answered. “We are. Me and the kids are waiting. My husband went for some squirrels. You’d better ride on.”

  “Thanks.” I took off at a trot, putting the distance between me and what could be more trouble.

  I came to the main road and the lightning-blasted tree. The black limbs, stretching up into the blue September sky, made me think of a supplicant. The buzzards were gone. The road was quiet, unnaturally quiet, and I realized that there were no sounds of birds or small animals. It was as if a spell had been cast over the area by an evil enchantress. That was not a comforting thought.

  As Mariah walked toward town, I looked through the woods, listening as hard as I could. I felt him, waiting and watching. Michael had soured my trust of Gabriel. What did he really want? Now I feared it was something sinister.

  When I saw him, I wasn’t surprised. Gabriel moved through the tree trunks, effortlessly keeping up with Mariah. This time there was no evidence of his wings—he wore pants, a white shirt, and suspenders like all the other men. He kept pace with me, never going slower or faster. If he wasn’t an angel, what was he? What did he want? I’d ask him when I had a chance, but not now. He stayed too far away.

  I circled around the town and tied Mariah at the back of Doctor Wainwright’s house. I was lucky he wasn’t busy and could see me right away. His maid led me to a small office where she showed me to a seat and gave me a much-needed glass of water. When the doctor came in, his consternation at my dress was clear. I was not behaving like a lady. My patience hit the danger zone.

  “Elizabeth Maslow has been shot and we need your help. Now.” I’d meant to ask for help, but his holier-than-thou attitude was unbearable. I would not ask, I would demand. These aberrant men had cowed the women under their control, but I would not have it.

  The doctor stared at me. “Who would shoot Elizabeth?”

  I had actually shocked him, and I backed down and softened my tone. “I don’t know and I don’t care, but if you don’t help her, she’s going to die. She’s still bleeding and I’ve been traveling here for half an hour.”

  He grabbed a black bag from beside his chair and opened it to check for supplies. He pointed a pair of forceps at me. “You need to leave. Don’t travel the main roads and get out of town as quickly as you can. Your life depends on it.”

  I had one chance to make a point with him. I wouldn’t delay him, but I had to try to get through to him. “You’re a doctor, sworn to do no harm. You know Slater McEachern is innocent of killing Ruth Whelan. They’re going to execute an innocent man.”

  He snapped his bag shut and strode out of the room. I heard the front door slam and the sound of a car motor start. He’d left me to find my way back as
best I could.

  I jammed my hat tighter on my head and started out the back door, where Mariah waited patiently.

  “Miss?”

  I turned to find the maid wringing her hands. She was a young woman, my age or maybe a bit older. I’d paid scant attention to her—a silent woman in a plain dress of modest cut. Her hair was pinned on top of her head. “Yes?”

  “Is Miss Elizabeth going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know, but I hope so.”

  “Who shot her?”

  I could answer honestly. “I don’t know. But I promise you, I’m going to find out.”

  “She’s been kind to me and so many others. Please tell her Lindy says to call for any help she needs.” She followed me out on the back porch and looked around before she spoke. “There’s a place she can hide if she needs it. A safe place. I can look after her until you can get her out of town. Don’t leave her at home. She isn’t safe, but me and her friends can take care of her until she can leave.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  “They moved Mr. McEachern today.”

  This was news. “Moved him where?”

  Tears formed in her eyes. “To a cabin in the woods. I heard them talking. They said he wasn’t safe. Said some strangers had come to town to break him out of jail.” She wiped her eyes. “That would be you, wouldn’t it?”

  “We did come to help him if we can.”

  “He didn’t kill Ruthie. She thought a lot of him. A whole lot. She told me he was the only truly good thing that had ever come to her life.” Her face contorted and she began to cry. “They killed her so they could blame him. This is all to get him out of the way.”

  “What’s he in the way of?”

  “Them doing whatever they want. He told them they were wrong. He said he was going to put a stop to them.”

  Slater McEachern had defied the rulers of the town. But would they really kill an innocent woman just to frame him? Why not just shoot him in the woods and pretend it was a hunting accident?

  I faced Lindy. “Do you know where he’s being held? Where this cabin is?”

  She rubbed her tears with her fists. “I sure do. And I’ll draw you a map, but don’t let the doctor know. He don’t agree with what they’re doing, but he won’t stand up. They’re too mean.”

  “I’ll never tell, Lindy. But thank you.”

  I followed her back to the kitchen where she found a paper sack and tore it into a page. She worked on her map quickly. “Here’s where we are. Here’s where he is, for right now at least. They’re afraid a lynch mob would get him and kill him before a trial. They need for everyone to believe he’s guilty. If folks question his guilt... You better be real careful.”

  I studied the map until I had it situated in my mind. It wasn’t much of a ride, and I could take another road through the woods to get back to Elizabeth’s. “Thank you, Lindy.”

  “Make Miss Elizabeth get well. She’s the only good thing left here in Mission.”

  I thought of one more thing. “Have you noticed anything…strange in the woods?”

  Lindy looked at me strangely. “You see him too,” she finally said. “He’s always watching. He’s there and then he’s gone. I don’t think he’s a good man.”

  “You think he’s a man?” The question slipped out.

  “What else would he be?” she asked, giving me another curious look. “Just beware of him. He’s up to something.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  She shrugged. “You’d better get going. Fast.”

  “Are they burying Hildy Morse tomorrow?”

  “They put off the funeral for some reason. Not smart in this heat. That little girl’s gonna wilt and start to rot. Poor Mrs. Morse has taken to her sick bed. Hildy was a trial on her with her wild ways, but Florence Morse loved her baby girl hard.”

  “Thank you, Lindy.” There was nothing else I could say. I slipped out the back door clutching the map and mounted. Lindy came out to the steps.

  “Ride safe.”

  “I will.” I pressed my legs into Mariah’s side and we were off. I cut across fields and plots of timberland to stay off the main road. Lindy’s map was most helpful. I intended to check on Slater McEachern before I went back to Elizabeth’s. If it was possible we could spring him from his confinement, we could all flee town at the first opportunity. It made a lot more sense to save a living man than steal a corpse.

  Following the map, I turned into the woods and stopped. Gabriel stood in the middle of the narrow path. Mariah snorted and tried to spin and run but I held her steady in the road. The path had been empty only seconds earlier, but now he blocked it completely. There was no emotion on his face as he stepped toward me and touched the reins. Mariah instantly calmed.

  I tried to calm the fear that fluttered hard in my chest. I’d once viewed Gabriel as God’s messenger, someone who might help us. That had changed. When I looked into his eyes, I saw no warmth or humanity. “Who are you?”

  “You know me. I’m Gabriel.”

  But I didn’t know him. I’d assumed much, because of the way Elizabeth had presented him. She believed he was the father of her child. Now I wasn’t so certain.

  “Please, step away from my horse.”

  His dark wings spread, stretching out across my path. He reached for the bridle again and I clamped my legs around Mariah. She broke free of the enchantment he’d cast on her and spurted forward, causing him to step aside and let me pass. I grabbed her mane and leaned forward, freeing Mariah’s back so that she could gather herself and run like the wind.

  “You can’t escape me, Raissa James,” he called out.

  I paid him no heed. I couldn’t listen and allow my fear to grow. I buried my nose in the horse’s thick black mane and inhaled the clean scent of a healthy animal. “Run,” I whispered. “Run!”

  We galloped through the woods, but I heard his laughter behind me. Overhead, the kettle of buzzards swooped low and silent, their huge wings casting enormous shadows on the sandy path.

  Chapter 20

  Deep woods surrounded the cabin where Slater McEachern was lodged. I came upon the cabin so suddenly, it was almost as if the woods had spit me out at the front porch. We arrived there, both horse and rider, heaving and blowing in the broiling heat. Insects had feasted on my arms and face, and Mariah’s neck was covered in blood where I’d swatted yellow flies, smashing dozens of them.

  For a moment, I sat my horse in perfect stillness as I took in what was left of a yard. The woods had encroached. But the normal noises of the forest were silent. No wrens or finches flitting through the underbrush. No chatter of angry squirrels. No sign of anyone alive near the house.

  My skin crawled when I saw the buzzards had beat me there and settled in the trees at the side yard. Even they were silent. Watchers. Messengers. Symbols of what? Who did they watch for? At first, I’d thought they were somehow connected to the town of Mission. Now, I was rethinking everything. They seemed part and parcel of the angel, Gabriel. They appeared to be his companions, if not a more nefarious bond as his spies.

  The birds were one worry, but I was more concerned about armed men who might shoot first and ask questions later. When I walked across the patchy front lawn without a challenge, I could finally breathe. I was surprised that a guard hadn’t been posted. I’d come upon the place so unexpectedly that I was easily within sight—had anyone been looking. It chilled me to think what the men were up to rather than guarding their valued prisoner.

  “McEachern!” I called out.

  “Go away, lassie!” His brogue was undeniable, and thicker than I remembered at the jail. He sounded exhausted and defeated.

  I tied Mariah to a shrub and went up on the rickety porch. It took all of my courage to open the door and step inside. A big man reclined on a bed. In the relative darkness it took me a moment to see that he was chained to the wall with a band around his neck.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” He sat up, but he didn’t have a lot of r
oom to maneuver. The chain was unnecessarily short.

  I stood silent, taking in Slater McEachern. He was a giant of a man with dark red hair that curled in loops. He was greatly in need of a wash, and he was clearly embarrassed by his condition. He looked at the floor instead of me.

  “I want to help you.” I looked beyond him, giving him as much privacy as I could.

  “You can’t. No one can. Damn the lass, I told Elizabeth to stay out of this. The girl’s too stubborn for her own good. She’s going to get herself and that bairn hurt. And for nothing.” He held up a hand to keep me back. “I’m howfin.” He wrinkled his face as if he could smell himself.

  I could understand his despair, and I didn’t try to change it. I didn’t know if I could help him or not. We all might be engaged in a fool’s errand that would only end in disaster. But I had to try. “Who killed Ruth? If you know, tell me so I can prove it.” That would be the most direct action to take to save him. I set about looking for a key to his chains as I waited for his answer.

  He glanced up at me before looking away. “I don’t know for certain. I’ve done nothing but think, and it defies any sane answer. I don’t know who would do such a thing to a tender woman. She never harmed a living creature. Ruth was…” He fought for control. “She was a kind and decent woman. No matter what they say, she had more decency in her little finger than any of them.”

  The grief in his voice spoke more of a lost love than a lost friend. I went to the kitchen, where a jug of water had been left. McEachern couldn’t reach it on the chain and I wondered how many hours had passed since he’d had anything to drink. I poured a glass and took it to him. He drank without pause, and I gave him another.

  “Have you eaten?” I needed time to think of a way to help him. The chain was thick and sturdy. The metal collar around his neck, designed for slaves, would not easily be broken. No one had conveniently left a key laying about, which meant I wouldn’t be able to take him with me.