Restless Heart (26 page)

“And I hope one day you can visit us. Once we get the new house built, that is.” Sam glanced at his father’s pocket watch, running his thumb over the brass cover.

“That’s Michael’s, isn’t it?” Gertrude noticed Sam’s fiddling.

“Yes, it is.” He blew out a breath. He was glad to have met his aunts, but he still grieved for his father.

“Our daddy gave that to him on his eighteenth birthday.” Alison eyed the watch. “It was Michael’s prized possession. I’m so glad he kept it all these years so it could pass to you.”

Jane led Angeline to his side. “Don’t wait another thirty years to come see us.”

Sam smiled. “Don’t worry. I plan on visiting you enough that you’ll be tired of seeing us.”

“Never.” Jane hugged both of them. “Now be off with you. I don’t like long good-byes.”

Well, it was too late for that, but Sam decided it wasn’t
prudent to say anything. He and Angeline left the Carver mansion and headed home to Wyoming. Sam took one last glance as they started down the street. The house was bigger than the entire main street in Forestville.

He knew they’d be back in Denver, but for now he needed to go back to where he belonged. “Let’s go home.”

Angeline smiled and he knew they’d made the right decision.

O
ctober blew in chilly, with the promise of a cold winter. Their new house was nearly done. The roof was two stories above the ground and the interior was simply beautiful. A huge picture window in the bedroom would bring in the morning sun, while a wraparound porch would allow them to watch the sunset.

It was idyllic. It was perfect.

The leaves were almost off the trees and Sam could hardly wait to move into the house. It had been a year since his Angel had come to Forestville, but it seemed like a lifetime ago.

They walked arm in arm to the Blue Plate for dinner. They wanted to celebrate not only the imminent completion of the house, but the anniversary of Angeline’s arrival. She told him he was silly, but he insisted.

No matter how many new clothes she could have, she still wore his mother’s wool coat. It was sturdy and warm, and she told him, “It’s a piece of your mother. Since I never met her, it’s the closest thing I have to a part of her.”

He didn’t ask her again to buy a new one. To be honest, he was touched by her sentimentality. She was just slightly round,
only two months pregnant and very healthy. He could hardly wait to meet their child in the spring.

They arrived at the restaurant and said hello to everyone. Lettie still worked there because she said she liked it. The people of Forestville were one great big family.

They sat near the center of the room so they could talk to everyone as they passed. Lettie brought them coffee with one brow raised.

“You gonna tell everyone soon?”

Sam chuckled at Lettie’s perceptiveness. Angeline opened her mouth to answer when a shot split the air. Someone screamed and Sam jumped to his feet, putting both women behind him.

He saw three men by the door. Two were older with graying hair and black clothes. The third had the gun in his hand, smoke curling from the barrel. He was dark, hard looking, and had another pistol slung low on his hip. Sam knew he was facing a man who killed for money.

He whipped around to look at Lettie and saw true fear on her face. Angeline gasped and that’s when he realized one of the older men must be Josiah. There was no other man in the world who could possibly strike fear into both women’s hearts. Sam’s protective instincts surged forward and his jaw tightened so hard his teeth almost cracked. It had been months since they’d seen Jonathan Morton. Yet somehow Josiah Brown had found Angeline.

The taller man, whipcord thin with dead eyes, pointed at Angeline. “This slut is my wife in the eyes of God.”

“Get out of here.” Sam kept his eyes on the hired gun, but he spoke to the old man. “She is not your wife in any way at all. She’s my wife.”

“She has lain with me, said vows with me, and lived in my house. She is
my wife
.” Josiah stepped forward, his hands locked behind his back. He had a commanding presence and
blazing eyes; clearly, he was a man who was used to having the attention of a room.

Sheriff Booth rose to his feet from the corner table, hand on his pistol. “Why don’t we step outside and sort this out, fellas?”

Josiah ignored him. “There is nothing to sort out. Her name is Angeline Brown and she is
my wife
.”

“Well, near as I can figure it, she’s Sam’s wife.” Booth tugged his hat down lower and widened his stance. “I saw the wedding myself back in June.”

“How dare you?” Josiah walked toward Sam and Ange-line, his face a mask of rage and hate. “You dare defile our holy union?”

Angeline rose to her feet and put herself between Sam and the man who claimed her as his wife.

“How dare
you
? You are not my husband. You’re not even a man.” She looked like an avenging angel. “Leave now and never come back.”

Josiah slapped her so hard, she fell into Sam. Then all hell broke loose. Jessup appeared from somewhere and jumped on the other older man, while Booth dealt with the gun-slinger. Sam heard a screech of pure fury and a body flew at Josiah.

Lettie scratched, slapped, and punched him while Sam held Angeline close. The older woman seemed to have the strength of ten men as she beat the man who had abused her so horribly.

Sam started to back away toward the kitchen, but Ange-line resisted.

“I won’t leave her like this. I can’t.”

Sam understood her loyalty, but he didn’t want things to get more violent than they already were. “Please, Angel, I don’t want anything to happen to you. To the baby.”

“It won’t, not if we stand together.”

Although Sam’s instincts told him to do all he could to protect his wife and child, he respected her choice. He would stand by her side, and fight her battles with her.

He glanced over and saw the gunfighter punch Booth so hard, the sheriff fell like a sack of potatoes onto the floor. With a feral grin, the gunslinger focused his gaze on Angeline and took aim.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Sam ran toward the man with the gun. He shouted at Angeline to run, but the muzzle of the gun flashed in mere seconds. Sam tackled the man and the gun went flying. He felt out of control and possessed by a black rage he’d never experienced before. Punches, blood, and spittle flew as he knelt on the man’s chest and pummeled him.

“Sam!” Angeline’s voice cut through the red haze surrounding him.

His hands were covered in blood and his knuckles throbbed. “Angel?”

“Sam, Jessup’s been shot.”

Sam rose to his feet as if in a daze, drawn by Angeline’s voice. He saw Jessup lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The world tilted sideways as Sam walked toward him. He heard someone crying and realized it was Lettie. She sat next to Angeline, her face a mass of welts and smears of blood.

“What happened?” Sam dropped to his knees as his heart began to beat so hard, it actually hurt his head.

“He saved me.” Angeline had tears running down her face. “He threw himself in front of the b-bullet.” Her blue eyes were full of grief.

Sam took his friend’s hand in his. “Jessup, what the hell did you do?”

Jessup’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled as he focused on Sam. “You know I ain’t never had a son or a nephew. I kinda thought you were a good one to pick.” He coughed, blood spewing from his mouth.

Sam wiped his eyes and finally looked at the gaping wound
in Jessup’s chest. He’d seen too many wounds on the field to have even a shred of hope the older man would survive the bullet. Jessup was already dying.

“You old coot, I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” His voice broke as he allowed himself to face his friend’s death.

“Sam, you’re a good man, and you have a good woman.” Jessup looked at Angeline. “You have an angel at your side.”

Before Sam could say anything else, Jessup slipped away, his chest still, his eyes unfocused. Angeline made a soft noise of distress and took Sam’s hand.

This time the howl that erupted from within him was the primal sound of a warrior. Angeline jumped back from him as did Lettie.

“Where is he?”

The women shook their heads.

“The bastard you used to call husband. Where is he? And that other man too?” Sam got to his feet, his friend’s blood staining his hands.

“He ran like the coward he is.” Lettie’s gaze was as feral as his own. “After I beat him, he proved himself to be as much of a coward as I thought he was.”

“And that other man, who was he?”

Angeline glanced at Lettie before she looked back at Jes-sup’s body. “My father.”

Sam could hardly fathom that the man was her father. He’d accompanied a hired killer and the man who’d beaten his daughter to Forestville. Though he’d had no part in the actual shooting, he hadn’t done a thing to stop it. He was as bad as Sam had feared. Now was not the time to be discussing Mr. Hunter’s obvious flaws though. Now was the time to hunt the sons of bitches down.

Sam pointed at the two women. “Stay here and keep everyone safe. You can protect them.”

Both of them rose, their backs straight and their faces set.
They looked like female warriors, ready to do battle for those they loved. He wouldn’t have chosen anyone different to keep the rest of the group safe while he dealt with the sons of bitches who dared shoot up his town, his
family
.

Booth was bloodied but alive, waving Sam on. Sam saw Pieter protecting Marta in the corner.

Sam nodded at the hired gun.

“Make sure that son of a bitch gets tied up.”

Pieter nodded and walked toward the unconscious stranger. Sam knew the man would be secured and in the jail before long. Now it was time to go on the hunt.

Before he stepped outside, Sam scooped up the gun-slinger’s weapons. He planned on killing Josiah, not only for Jessup’s murder, but for Angeline and Lettie. Sam would protect his own.

He heard footsteps behind him and glanced back to see Angeline running toward him, her dress spattered with blood.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going with you.” Her jaw was tight and her chin set.

“No, you’re not.” Sam refused to allow his wife to put herself into danger again.

“Yes, I am. That’s my father and my, um, former husband. I am tired of running, tired of hiding. I want this done with
now
.” She marched down the street, leaving Sam to catch up.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her with more force than he’d meant. “Angel, there’s likely to be guns involved. I don’t want to be a widower yet.”

“Men of the Mormon church do not carry guns.”

Sam’s anger surged again. “No, they just hire gunslingers to do their killing for them.” He held up the pistols for her to see. There was no visible blood on the barrel, but he saw it just the same. He carried the instrument of Jessup’s death in his hand. It nearly made him vomit.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Her chin trembled, but her back stayed straight as a rod.

He blew out a frustrated sigh. “This gun in my hand killed a member of my family, a man who was my friend. I don’t plan on letting the men responsible just walk out of this town. I can’t.”

“Mormon men don’t walk either, especially elders.” Her eyes widened as she realized what she said. “They’ll probably have a wagon or carriage.”

“The livery.” Sam started running, somehow hoping Ange-line wouldn’t keep up. He meant what he told her—he didn’t want to be responsible for her death too. This wasn’t vengeance as much as it was justice. He didn’t believe killing the man who’d killed Jessup would solve anything, but he was damn sure not going to sit idly by and let Josiah Brown escape so he could hire another killer.

He heard footsteps right behind him and realized not only hadn’t she gone back to the restaurant, but she was fast enough to keep up with him. Granted he had a leg that didn’t work so good, but sheer rage drove him to ignore any pain.

In the distance, he heard Booth calling him, but Sam had no intention of slowing down for anyone. Angeline stayed behind him the entire way to the livery. They were only minutes behind the two older men; no doubt Sam would arrive in time to stop the old bastards. He’d run after a damn carriage if he had to.

The door was wide open, which meant someone was inside. Sam burst in, his heart thumping like a horse and his breath coming in gasps. Splinters lodged in his shoulders as he pushed the inner door open.

The two older men in black were apparently trying to put the traces on the team themselves. Neither one of them seemed to know what he was doing. When Sam burst in, he saw anger in the one man’s gaze, and a glimmer of fear in the other’s. The thin, angry one was Josiah. His face was covered in welts and scratches—obviously Lettie had gotten some good swipes in before he threw her off.

Behind him, Angeline gulped in air as she stepped up beside him. Her presence actually gave him a boost of strength he didn’t expect.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Sam snarled.

“We are leaving this Godforsaken town.” The man Sam assumed was Angeline’s father spoke as if Forestville was beneath his notice.

“Father, why are you here?” Angeline’s voice was steady.

“I thought to show you the error of your ways. To bring God back into your soul, but I am too late. From now on, I do not acknowledge you as my daughter. You are dead to me, dead to my church. I am ashamed to even be here.”

Sam winced inwardly at Mr. Hunter’s harsh words.

“Then why are you here?” she repeated as she walked toward him, an avenging angel in a bloody dress.

“I had to see for myself just what a whore you’ve become.”

Sam growled and surged forward, but Angeline stayed his hand by putting her body between them.

“You are the one who should be ashamed. You made me into a whore—his whore.” She pointed at the thin man. “The man who used pain and humiliation and perversion each day to bring himself pleasure.”

Josiah’s face flushed red and he shook with what Sam assumed was rage. Mr. Hunter glanced at him with a narrowed gaze.