Angel Peak

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Angel Peak Page 9

by Shirleen Davies


  “Sylvia Mackey.” She choked again. “How long have I been here?”

  “Two days.” He adjusted the pillows a little to help her. “The church and community building burned to the ground. The townsfolk have already begun rebuilding.”

  Her eyes widened. “Was anyone else…” Her voice trailed off, pain flashing across her face.

  “No, sweetheart. You’re the only one who was injured.”

  “What about Sylvia?”

  “She’s fine. She was inside the general store when the fire started.”

  Clare shook her head. “Are you certain?”

  He nodded. “Yes, dear. Sylvia ran out of the store with several buckets and started helping with the fire.”

  She cleared her throat, wincing in pain. “But the note…”

  Charles held the glass to her mouth, waiting until she’d taken several sips before answering. “You need to talk to the sheriff, Gabe Evans. My thought is Sylvia isn’t the one who sent you the message.”

  Confused eyes met his. “Then who?”

  Anger gripped him. Someone had tried to kill Clare. He’d let her go without a fight once. She’d given him a second chance, and Charles refused to fail her a second time.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

  Chapter Ten

  Caleb, Hex, Zeke, and several of the Pelletier men worked together to finish framing the walls. Due to several inches of snow, their progress had been slow. It had taken a while to shovel down to the work completed the day before. By eleven thirty, they’d made up for the time lost earlier in the morning. Caleb set down his hammer, stomach grumbling.

  “I’m going to get something to eat. I’ll meet you back here.”

  Hex brushed both hands down his coat. “You’re welcome to join us at the boardinghouse.”

  A slow smile spread across Caleb’s face. “Thanks, but I can’t.”

  Careful not to step on any of the newly completed work, he headed between the St. James and the building next door. Knocking on the kitchen’s side door, he hesitated a moment when May answered, beckoning him inside.

  “Hurry. The chef is running errands and won’t be back for a while.” She dashed to one of the counters. Sweeping a cloth off a tray, May smiled. “There are a dozen pastries, plus roast beef and potatoes. Here.” She grabbed a stool, setting it beside him. Turning away again, she selected flatware and two plates.

  “Have you eaten?”

  Picking up another stool, she set it next to his. “I thought we might share.”

  They split the food on the two plates, Caleb taking large bites while May picked at hers. She’d sent a guarded look at him every few minutes, a fierce longing tugging at her. May didn’t notice when Caleb set down his utensils.

  “Are you all right, May?”

  Sucking in a breath at the concern on his face, she pushed the plate away. May didn’t want to ruin another meal with him. Still, she had no desire to continue with their courtship without understanding what bothered him so much about his past.

  “I’m just wondering why you’ve never taken the time to tell me of your past.” Reaching over, she placed a hand on his arm. “And you aren’t allowed to walk out on me again.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he blew out a weary breath. The lighthearted nature of their meal lost, he met her expectant gaze.

  “There hasn’t been much time, May. I’m not avoiding it.”

  She lifted a brow. “No?”

  “You deserve to hear everything, ask questions, and make a decision about continuing to see me.”

  “When, Caleb?”

  “With Isaac, rebuilding the church, and my job, I don’t know when there’ll be enough time. Perhaps after Christmas.”

  “Christmas.” She whispered the word too low for him to hear. Ignoring the ache in her heart, May lifted her hand from his arm, slipping off the stool. She glanced at his empty plate. “Are you finished?”

  Studying her solemn features, he nodded, watching as she covered the tray with the cloth. Picking it up, she held it out to him.

  Hesitating an instant, he took it. “I should be going. I’ll need to get this home before returning to help with the construction.”

  She nodded. “All right.”

  “I hope the tasting goes well, May. You deserve to have something wonderful happen to you.”

  Squaring her shoulders, she nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  Walking to the door, she held it open, heart thudding when he left, making no mention about seeing her again. The realization he had no intention of sharing his past hit her as hard as a blow to the stomach.

  He’d had plenty of time when they rode out of town before the fire. Although she loved the way he kissed her breathless last night, he could’ve spent the time explaining what was so awful she wouldn’t want to see him. Even today, he could’ve been the one to bring it up, let her know he did intend to talk to her.

  She didn’t blame him for avoiding the discussion. Caleb had too many responsibilities already. He shouldn’t feel obligated to call on her, knowing he’d need to share the past if they were to continue seeing each other. She wanted to make his life easier, not more difficult.

  May swallowed the truth, a sharp pain ripping through her as she accepted what had to be done. He was too honorable to call it off. As much as it hurt, May would have to be the one to set him free.

  Perhaps in time, when his life settled into a comfortable routine, he might seek her out, request to start seeing her again. Right now, he didn’t deserve another obligation, and that was all she was. May didn’t doubt he liked her, cherished their friendship, but she wanted more. She deserved more. She deserved love.

  Swiping away the tears beginning to slip down her face, she lifted a hand, pressing it against her heart. There was no reason to have the conversation today or even tomorrow. Caleb had already told her he didn’t have time to talk until maybe after Christmas, and May believed Lena would approve the pastries, requiring more hours at the Eagle’s Nest.

  She snorted. Perhaps there wasn’t a reason to have a discussion at all. The courtship May believed held so much promise would fade, both of them going on as before.

  May hoped they’d find a way to keep their friendship. She wouldn’t allow herself to expect anything more.

  “Do you feel well enough to get out of bed for a few minutes, Clare?” Charles held out a bathrobe, a hopeful grin on his face.

  She’d been awake since early morning, ate a decent lunch, making comments about going back to her room at the St. James. Charles had no intention of letting her get that far away from him ever again.

  Over the long hours sitting by her bed, he allowed himself to recall the painful memories he usually shoved aside. When he did think of Clare, it generally came late at night with a bottle of whiskey.

  They’d been young, believing love would solve any problems they’d face. How naïve of them. He’d been from a prominent Boston family. Clare’s father, brother, and most male relatives worked the docks, making a decent, albeit difficult, living. When his father learned of the love between Charles and Clare, he’d made her father a financial proposition.

  Still, the two promised their future to each other. He left for medical school, assured she’d wait for him. A few months later, he’d received word Clare had married a man of her father’s choosing and left Boston. Although he’d never seen her again, Charles prayed she’d found happiness with a good man, someone who would treat her well, giving Clare the family she’d always wanted. Staring at her as she sat on the bed, he wondered how much of what he hoped had come true.

  “I’d love to get out of bed for a while, Charles. Maybe I could sit in your living room.” She glanced up at him. “Assuming you have one.”

  Charles chuckled at what she must think of his small home. “Yes, I do. I even have a kitchen and another bedroom where I sleep. Everything I need.” Except you.

  Helping her from the bed, he held the robe while she s
lid into it, then tied the belt. Charles wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her into the short hall.

  “This is my room,” he nodded toward a door. “The living room is through here. It’s been snowing, so I keep a fire burning in all four stoves. The kitchen and dining area are through there.” He motioned to a door across the room.

  Clare’s gaze took in everything, wide eyes looking up at him. “It’s lovely, Charles.”

  A mirthless chuckle left his lips. “I’m sure it’s nothing as nice as what you’ve become used to.” He shrugged, refusing to apologize for his choices. Leading her to the sofa, he helped her down, taking a seat beside her.

  “I left Boston not long after finishing medical school. For a time, I worked in a Chicago hospital, then moved to one in Philadelphia. After a while, I decided to travel west. Stories of the wild frontier always fascinated me. Not long before the war started, I got on a train, riding to the end of the line, then found passage in one of the many wagon trains heading west. I eventually reached Splendor and stayed.”

  Clare remained silent as Charles told her of his life after they’d been forced apart, feeling another tear to her heart. Throat clogging with emotion, all she could do was nod.

  “It was best your father found a man more worthy of you, Clare. He did take care of you, didn’t he?”

  Clasping her hands in her lap, she stared at them, swallowing a painful ball of regret. It had taken all of a few seconds after seeing Charles’s dear face to confirm her continued love for him. She’d never felt the same for her husband, a man her father thought had been so perfect for her.

  “We moved to Chicago immediately after the wedding. I wished I’d known you worked at the hospital. Maybe we could’ve found a way…” Her voice faded on the ridiculous thought.

  Placing a hand over hers, Charles shook his head. “We can’t go back, Clare. Tell me more about your life.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded. “My husband worked hard, provided a good home, although he was absent most of the time. He made good money. I suspected most of it was illegal.” She glanced at him before switching her attention out the window. “We never had children. I did hear he had several with the mistress he kept. Apparently, he’d been with her long before we married. I never understood why he accepted my father’s offer to marry me when he loved another woman.”

  She looked back at him. “I learned my father and yours offered him an extraordinary amount of money to take me out of Boston and never return. It could only be done through a legal marriage. When he died of heart failure, it was a blessing.” A humorless smile tipped the corners of her mouth. “His entire estate came to me, including several houses. I sold all but the one where his mistress lived, provided a monthly allowance for her, and packed my belongings.” Her eyes sparkled. “For the first time in my life, I felt an incredible sense of freedom. I could’ve gone anywhere, but I knew there was just one person I wanted to find.”

  Charles looked at her, an interesting thought crossing his mind. “You hired someone to find me.”

  She nodded. “Allan Pinkerton’s agency. Seems he already had a file on several people in Splendor, some who had been agents for him. It took less than two weeks to confirm your location. I left right away.”

  The hopeful look on her face had his chest constricting. Settling an arm over her shoulders, he drew Clare to him, placing a kiss on her forehead. “This is exactly where you should be, sweetheart.”

  A sob broke free before she could stop it. “Do you think…” She sobbed harder, swiping at tears.

  Gaze warming, the corners of his mouth slid into a tender smile. “As soon as you’re healed, we’ll marry. That is, if you still love me and can live with a humble frontier doctor in his modest home.”

  Lips parting, trying to control her sobs, she nodded, hiccupping her response. “Yes, Charles. Definitely, yes.”

  “I heard from Doctor McCord that Clare is doing better. He expects Doctor Worthington to return to the clinic soon.”

  “Which means she’ll be alone,” he replied, a feral grin appearing. “Is she going back to the St. James?”

  “I don’t know. It won’t matter. As long as she’s not being watched, we’ll be able to get to her. We just have to pick the right time.”

  “And the right method,” he responded. “We cannot try to hide her death with another fire.”

  “No. We’ll need to come up with another way. And you cannot fail this time.”

  His features hardened, nostrils flaring at the rebuke. He nodded, anger at the person a few feet away stopping him from saying or doing what he wanted. An idea formed as he watched the calculating look on the other’s face.

  If their plan worked, he saw no reason to share the money passing to him after Clare’s death. Chuckling to himself, he began to rethink his future, coming up with a very satisfying solution.

  Leaning down, Caleb lifted one corner of the church wall while several other men lifted the rest. In less than thirty minutes, the last of four walls was up and secured in place.

  “That’s it today, men.” Bull’s loud voice boomed across the site. The Pelletier men would head to the ranch, returning in the morning. The others, mainly townsfolk, would go home, showing up at sunrise to start another day of building.

  Caleb let out a satisfied sigh. Even with the snow, they’d made incredible progress. If they kept up this pace, the church would be finished and ready for Christmas service.

  “I’ll go back to the jail and see if Gabe wants anyone else besides Hex and Dutch to keep watch tonight. If so, I’ll take it while you take care of Isaac.” Mack scrubbed a hand down his face, looking over his shoulder at the skeleton of the church. “It’s going to be real nice when we finish. Sylvia said she, May, and a few other women are already planning for decorations.”

  “Of course they are.” He thought of May, the way he’d taken the extra food and left earlier. Every time she mentioned wanting to hear of his past, he closed up, which didn’t make sense since he’d been the one to tell her she needed to hear about the things he’d done, all his regrets.

  The more time they spent together, the more certain he was of his desire to marry May and have more children. Caleb didn’t want to admit the truth, didn’t want her to hear about his life and walk away. After seeing her today, he became less certain of his ability to keep the story from her. Something in her manner when he left the restaurant worried him.

  He’d thought about their conversation. All seemed fine until he mentioned not having much time to talk until after Christmas. A little over a week away, yet to some people, it might feel like forever. Caleb wondered if his comment had been what caused the distress on May’s lovely face.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, he mumbled a curse. If his reluctance to talk had been what caused the change, he needed to do something about it, and before Christmas. He wanted May, couldn’t imagine seeing her with another man. The blue-eyed beauty was meant for him and Isaac, no one else.

  Casting a look at the St. James, he considered returning to the side door, requesting a time when they could meet and talk. Glancing at the darkening sky, he decided it could wait another day. He had a son waiting for him, and Isabella needed to get home to prepare supper for Travis. Like the other men, Travis had been working long hours on the church. He deserved to be with his wife.

  “How are you and May doing?”

  Caleb jerked, forgetting Mack still stood by his side. “Fine,” he lied.

  Regardless of what had happened on his sofa the night before, instinct told him May didn’t cherish it as much as she wanted the truth of his past.

  “Sylvia wants to have you, May, and Isaac over for supper sometime. She’d like it to be before Christmas, and I try to give her whatever she wants.” Mack shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips.

  “It’s not so simple with May working nights. Maybe this Sunday after church would be all right with her. She has to report to the restaurant by three o’clock.”

&
nbsp; Mack’s brows furrowed. “Is Reverend Paige planning to still have a service? The church won’t be close to ready by Sunday.”

  Caleb chuckled. “Nick Barnett said he could use the Dixie. We’ll see how many people attend church inside a saloon. I’m certain most of the women have never seen the inside of one.”

  “You might be surprised. Women are curious, the same as the rest of us. I’d wager a good number will attend just to see where their men drink and play cards.” Mack left the rest of the saloon’s activities unsaid.

  “I’ll talk to May. I’m sure she’ll want to be there.” At least he knew she’d want to have supper with Sylvia and Mack.

  After explaining his past, Caleb hoped she would still choose to be with him and Isaac.

  Chapter Eleven

  May hadn’t been able to wipe the smile from her face since Lena gave her the good news. Her pastries would be added to the menu Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays to start. If they sold well, Lena and the other partners would decide about adding them on other days.

  Before leaving the kitchen, Lena gave her another piece of good news. May’s hours would change. She’d work from early morning to late afternoon on the days pastries were offered. On Thursdays, she’d do her regular kitchen duties from mid-afternoon until the restaurant closed. She’d be off Sundays, Mondays, and Tuesdays, free to do whatever she wanted.

  Her enthusiasm faded when she thought of telling Caleb the good news. Even with her decision to end the courtship, allowing him to focus on Isaac and his job, he was still the first person she thought of seeing after Lena gave her the decision.

  Lena had told her to clean up and go home early. Gary hadn’t been thrilled, but said nothing after learning they’d be hiring someone to take May’s place on the days she didn’t work or left early.

  Removing her apron, she slipped into her coat. “Good night,” she called before heading out the back door, ignoring Gary’s whispered mutterings.

  Dashing across the main road, she headed to the next street where Sylvia and Mack lived beside Caleb and Isaac. Emerging between two buildings, she glanced between the two houses, pursing her lips.

 

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