Unconventional Series Collection (16 page)

Rising to visit the water closet again to
relieve herself, she returned to her room and splashed water on her face before
letting her hair down and absentmindedly brushing it. The fact that lingering
panic after the encounter with the unsavory men wasn't haunting her was
astounding. Walking to the window, she pulled the curtain aside just enough to
peer at a full moon and wished she were in a meadow dancing freely, like she
had done as a child before her father died, and her life changed forever.
Images of her beautiful mother flashed before her eyes and she smiled, remembering
how her mother had loved and cherished her father, always kissing him and
whispering sweet words in his ear.

A cloud passed in front of the moon and blocked
its light, just like her father's death had removed the light from her mother's
eyes. Angel squeezed her eyes tight, trying to block the vision of her mother
shortly after marriage to her stepfather. The beautiful, laughing woman was
gone, replaced by someone who only resembled her mother. Within a year, her
mother was dead. The doctor said it was from a weakened constitution. Angel
knew she had died of a broken spirit.

"Is that also my fate—to die of a broken
spirit," she whispered to the man-in-the-moon. Inhaling a shaky breath,
she returned to her bed and closed her eyes, willing her mind to remain blank
and not conjure up any more memories.

At fifteen minutes to six, Luke was in the foyer
of the shabby hotel waiting for Angel. At exactly six o'clock she entered the
room. His lungs couldn't seem to inhale enough oxygen when he saw her. Dressed
in a simple gray dress with matching hat and gloves, she was more elegant than
the most elaborately dressed and pampered socialite of his acquaintance. She
was simply stunning and he watched every head in the room, male and female,
turn to stare at her. She seemed oblivious to the attention.

With a slight smile, she said, "Good
evening, Mr. Samson."

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

"Excuse me, I mean Luke," she
corrected her address of him.

"Good evening to you, too, Angel. I hope
you're hungry, because I intend to order a huge meal tonight."

Her small smile became a little bigger.
"Yes. Very hungry."

He offered his elbow and after a moment's pause,
she placed her hand in the crook of his arm to be escorted to the carriage he
had waiting outside.

When they exited at one of the most exclusive
restaurants in town, Angel gave him a questioning look.

"This is another of my favorite places to
eat."

The maitre d' led them to a secluded table.
After they had perused their menus, ordered, and were sipping wine, Luke leaned
back and asked conversationally, "How was your day, Angel?"

She set her wine glass down. "Very much
like every other day. How was yours?"

He laughed, "About the same. With
conversation like this, we won't get very well acquainted."

Angel glanced past him. "I am not
interested in becoming acquainted. I simply want to travel to my business
establishment and resume my life."

Luke drummed his fingers on the table frustrated
by the woman's secrecy. Perhaps if he couldn't get her to talk about herself,
he could get her to talk about her business. "Please tell me more about
your business. You mentioned it's a bakery. You must love to bake to have
purchased it." Even to his own ears, his attempt at conversation sounded
lame. However, he noticed a spark in Angel's eyes.

"I do love to bake."

He quickly pursued her response. "What's
your specialty?"

"Breads, pies, pastries. Cakes give me
problems. I haven't mastered them yet."

The light in her eyes shined brighter and Luke
found himself in awe of the change in her countenance—like a match had suddenly
been struck in a dark room. He leaned across the table and said seriously,
"Please tell me one of your specialties is apple pie."

A tiny quirk at the corner of Angel's mouth
turned into a full smile. When she lifted her hand to her mouth to laugh behind
it, Luke was lost to the beautiful sound.

"That
is
my specialty. I've actually
come up with a secret recipe that I was offered a large sum of money for. But I
would
never
sell that secret."

Luke sat back and chuckled. "Perhaps I can
persuade you to make one of those pies for me someday. In fact,
I
would
pay you handsomely for it. That's how much I
love
apple pie."

Angel glanced at the table and turned a lovely
pink at his attention.

The waiter brought their meal and conversation
ceased for the time being. Luke noticed that Angel had a hearty appetite and
wondered again how often she was eating. The thought that she might be going
hungry, for whatever reason, twisted his heart. When they were almost finished
with dinner, he said, "You told me that you wanted to leave in two weeks.
If that's the case, I think we should marry within the week, and since finances
are not a concern of mine, I will move you to a more appropriate hotel."

Angel's fork clanked onto her plate and her
startled look made him realize she had read more into his words than he had
intended. Quickly, he amended, "I will remain at my own hotel. I wasn't
suggesting anything other than wanting you to have a safer location."

Slowly, she lifted her eyes from her plate to
stare into his. "Why are you doing this? Why do you care?"

Without wavering in his return stare, he said,
"Only because I want to help an angel in need."

She blinked and picked up her fork.

Luke pressed his advantage. "I don't want
anything from you. It appears that you have been abused in your life and I
simply want to show you that not everyone is like that. I was raised in a
loving family and caring community."

Angel laid her fork back on her plate and turned
glistening eyes to his. She spoke so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
"Thank you, Luke, but I'm not worth the trouble. I will remain at my hotel
until we leave. We can marry the day before. I have a copy of a contract I had
drawn up by an attorney before I ran the advertisement. I'm sure you'll want to
read it before entering into this arrangement. If it's satisfactory to you, I
will meet you at my hotel at ten o'clock next Friday so we can marry at the
courthouse. On Saturday, we'll leave on the morning train. As you can see, I
have planned this to the last detail. I thank you for the kindness you have
shown me, but I assure you, it is misplaced. Now, if you don't mind, I would
like to leave."

Luke assessed Angel and decided to forego disagreeing
with her—for the time being. Lifting his hand, he beckoned the waiter over and
asked for the check.

* * *

By Tuesday of the week they were supposed to
meet, Luke was still stewing over the fact that Angel was in a shabby hotel in
a rowdy section of town. He wanted her out of there, but he knew with
everything in him that if he pressed she would back out of their agreement. It
was while he was feeling frustrated and pacing his suite that there was a knock
on his door. He opened it to a steward delivering an envelope on a tray.
"Sir, this just came for you by courier."

Furrowing his brow, he lifted the post, tipped
the steward enough silver to make him grin, and ripped the envelope open. He
recognized his stepmother's stationary.

Luke,

I am writing because I know you would want to
know what has happened. Your father has had an accident. While working on some
fence repairs, some of the herd got spooked and he was trampled. He has several
broken bones and Doc says he will be laid up for quite some time. As I'm sure
you are aware, your father did not want me to write to you about this, but I
feel honor bound to let you know. Of course, our neighbors have rallied
together and are helping us so there is no need for you to make a trip back
here. In closing, I will let you know that Brant is as determined as ever to be
up and around soon and I take that as a good sign, even though he tries my
patience at times. Please do not worry. Your brothers have surprised me by
showing much maturity throughout this ordeal and are a great help to your pa
and I.

—Ma Abby

Luke set the letter on a table and pinched the
bridge of his nose. He'd pass through hell to get back to his family in their
time of need. He blew a breath.
Now what about Angel?

* * *

Angel had stayed holed up in her room the four
days since her dinner with Luke and only left to visit the water closet or
venture to the tiny dining room to order a tray of tasteless food delivered to
her room once a day.

Sitting beside her window, she watched activity
in the town below. A woman on the boardwalk across the street held her
fascination when she lifted a toddler into her arms and entered the general
store. Visions of Angel's own child paraded across her memory. A knock on her
door startled her, but also offered relief by pushing memories back into the
hidden places of her mind.

She walked to the door and asked, "Who is
it?"

"It's Mabel, ma'am; the cleaning maid. The
desk sent me up to let you know there's a gentleman downstairs to see you. Says
his name is Luke Samson."

"Umm, thank you. Please tell him I'll be
right down."

"Yes, ma'am."

Angel's heart raced. The only reason she could
think that would account for his presence was that he had read the contract and
decided to decline the agreement. Tears pricked her eyes as she composed
herself.

After redoing her hair and smoothing her dress,
she walked down the shabby hallway and descended the stairs. She saw Luke
standing, hat in hand, in the worn foyer. He stepped forward to greet her at
the bottom of the stairs.

"Good afternoon, Angel."

"The same to you, Luke."

"I'd like to speak privately with you for a
moment, if I may."

"There's a small parlor. Perhaps it's
empty. Please follow me."

The parlor was, indeed, empty, and Luke followed
her into the room and shut the door, motioning for her to sit. When she did, he
sat in the chair across from her. Not wanting to prolong the moment, she said,
"I appreciate that you have reconsidered, Luke, and I want you to know I
hold no ill feelings toward you."

Luke's expression looked puzzled. "Excuse
me?"

"You have come to decline our arrangement,
have you not?"

A smile played at the corners of his mouth.
"No, Angel, I have not. I've come to ask you to marry me tomorrow."

Angel gasped and placed a hand against her
heart.

He continued, "Please let me explain."

She inclined her head.

"I've just received word that my father has
had an accident and suffered severe injuries. I cannot leave on a long journey
without checking on my family. You told me that you are not expected in San
Francisco for two months. Because the trip only takes two weeks, there is
sufficient time for us to marry and for you to accompany me to Two Rivers while
I visit my family. My mother says that neighbors are pitching in, and although
my father has a couple of ranch hands, I want to hire more help until he
recovers."

When Angel started to protest, Luke raised his
hand to quiet her. "Please, let me finish. I also own a ranch in Two
Rivers. I have caretakers who live there and manage my property while I'm away.
The house is not huge, but it's spacious enough. You would have your own room
and privacy. We could stay there for two to three weeks and then proceed on to
California. The reason I'm offering this is because I don't want to leave you
in this hotel. It's not safe and it would probably do you good to get some
country air." He ended with, "I have no ulterior motive, Angel. I
simply must visit my family and rather than make a trip back here to retrieve
you, we could leave for California from Bingham. The rails have recently made
it to that city."

Angel studied her hands clasped tightly in her
lap. "I'm sorry to hear about your father and I understand. I would do the
same for my father if he were still living."

Luke asked quietly, "Will you marry me
tomorrow and come to Two Rivers with me?"

 Angel's heart raced at the thought of marrying
Luke so soon. However, the opportunity to spend time in the country sounded
wonderful. Just being away from this distasteful hotel that had been her home
for far too long was enticing, and she could see in Luke's eyes that he spoke
the truth. Of course, she had been fooled before. Before she could change her
mind, she said, "Okay. I agree. But I want our new terms in writing. You
can add it into the contract."

Solemnly, Luke nodded. "I'll arrange for
our marriage to take place tomorrow morning and then we'll leave by rail for
Bingham and then by coach to Two Rivers."

At the last minute, Angel changed her mind about
what to wear for her wedding. She had not intended to dress fancy, but she
reached for her prettiest dress anyway, a pale pink worsted linen day dress.
Refusing to dwell on why she had changed her mind, she brushed her hair into an
upsweep and then perched a pink velvet petite hat, decorated with pink bows,
over the topknot. The tiny hat revealed more of her black tresses than usual,
but it was the one that looked best with her dress.

Inhaling a shaky breath, Angel did something she
usually avoided; she gazed into her own eyes in the mirror. Expecting to see
the usual pain reflected, she was surprised at the excitement shining through
them. "You're excited because you're one step closer to your bakery,"
she whispered to the woman in the mirror.

At exactly ten o'clock, after fastening her one
large suitcase and one small one and setting them beside the door, and checking
her room to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind, she descended the
stairs to the parlor to wait for Luke. He was already there and standing beside
the mantle with his back to her. She cleared her throat because she didn't
trust her voice, and when he turned around, her breath caught. Dressed in
another tailored suit, this one the color of charcoal, with a matching vest
under the frock coat and a crisp white shirt in sharp contrast, he appeared
older than his twenty-five years and dangerous to any woman's emotional
equilibrium. His midnight hair, resting against the collar of his suit, was
blacker than the deepest night, and his blue eyes glistened with heart pounding
intensity. Angel felt her eyes widen and then she quickly reined in her wayward
thoughts.

"Good morning, Luke."

"Top o' the morning to you, too, Angel. You
look beautiful."

She lowered her lashes. "Thank you."

* * *

Luke felt like the room had suddenly lost all of
its oxygen. Angel's beauty was beyond comparison and now, with her eyes
downcast, he once again had a vision of silky lashes that went on forever.
Taking advantage of the moment, he let his eyes travel over her. Her onyx hair,
with tiny tendrils escaping from the knot hidden beneath a cute pink hat,
teased cheeks of the same shade. Her dress, tightly fitted at the waist,
revealed a petite, but well-rounded figure every red-blooded man would dream of
holding. Of course, holding Angel was out of the question and he sighed,
returning to the reality of the situation.

Angel lifted her eyes again, her face composed
into its usual mask of indifference. However, he had seen her surprised look
and it made him grin. "How do I clean up?"

"Excuse me?"

He laughed heartily. "I hope my appearance
is suitable for a wedding," he teased.

A flustered look crossed her features which made
him laugh all the more.

"I'm ready whenever you are," she
said, leaving his question unanswered.

"I have a coach waiting that will take us
to the church. Afterward, we'll eat lunch, return for your things, and then
catch the two-thirty train to Bingham."

She honed in on one thing. "There's no need
to marry in a church, the courthouse will be fine."

"Too late. I've already got a preacher and
his wife lined up. They're friends of mine." He extended his arm.

After a moment's hesitation, she placed her
small hand in the crook of his elbow and they left the hotel.

* * *

During the ride to the church, Angel kept her
eyes averted from Luke's by watching the streets and pedestrians through the
window. Occasionally, he made a comment, and she murmured an acknowledgement,
but didn't really pay attention to what he was saying. Her heart was pounding
so fast she feared she might have the vapors. She had never envisioned herself
marrying again after the horrendous one she had been forced into at the age of
sixteen to a big bully thirty years her senior. Just remembering the five
miserable years she'd had to endure until his death made her feel weak.

The driver called, "Whoa!" and reined
the horses to a halt in front of a lovely white church with steeple, double
doors, and pretty pink flowers the same shade as Angel's dress. In her heart,
Angel knew she wasn't worthy of marriage in such a holy place, and when she turned
tormented eyes on Luke, he immediately grasped her hands in his.

"Angel, everything's okay. Trust me."

The coach door was suddenly swung open by the
driver and Luke stepped down, reaching to lift her from the interior. When he
set her on the ground, he leaned down and whispered, "Don't be
afraid."

In a fog, Angel allowed herself to be led up the
church steps, but balked at the front door. Luke did not force her inside. He
simply waited for her to take the first step forward.

Inhaling deeply, Angel moved beyond the entrance
and into the coolness of a beautiful room with mahogany pews. A wooden carving
of a cross with a crucified Jesus hung behind the pulpit and Angel felt sadness
for his suffering. Staring at the cross, however, gave her courage to continue
forward.

From a side door, a tall gangly young man and
his even taller wife exited and both said in unison, "Welcome!" They
even laughed in unison and the pastor extended his hand to Luke. "We don't
see you enough around here, Luke, and when you asked me to marry you, I
couldn't have been happier than a pup with two tails."

Luke replied, "Angel, I'd like you to meet
Pastor Robert Goodbodie and his wife Anita. When I'm in town, I often worship
here."

Mrs. Goodbodie clasped Angel's hand.
"Gracious goodness, when Luke said he was marryin' and asked Pastor
Goodbodie to perform the ceremony, I shouted with joy and then broke into song.
We just love Luke and now we love you. Gracious you're purdy on the outside,
but I can see you're even purdier on the inside. I told Luke that I wished
ya'll could stay and get married on Sunday 'cause that way we could have a big
celebration, but he told us 'bout his pa and the need to leave right away. We
sure understand wantin' to get there as soon as possible. That's what family is
for."

When Mrs. Goodbodie paused for breath, Pastor
Goodbodie interjected. "We're ready when you are, Luke and Angel."

Luke grinned and looked down at Angel. "I'm
ready."

Angel was still processing the whirlwind of
emotions swirling in her heart. The friendly pastor and his wife had taken her
completely by surprise. They treated her like an old friend, something foreign
in her experience. "I-I guess I'm ready," she stammered.

"Well then, ya'll just mosey on up to the
front while I grab the Good Book off the podium," said the pastor.

"Yes, and I'll sing a song while we get
ready," Mrs. Goodbodie said excitedly and rushed to the piano not far from
the pulpit. Even before she was fully seated her fingers were pounding the keys
to a wedding song and her soprano voice singing happily.

Luke led Angel to a place below the cross and in
front of the pastor. When Mrs. Goodbodie finished her tune, she launched
herself off the bench and rushed to stand off to the side of her husband.

Pastor Goodbodie's jovial voice turned to one of
solemnity. As if the church were full, he gazed into the pews and said,
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together in the sight of God to join Luke
Samson and Angel St. Clair in holy matrimony."

Angel felt Luke's hand smoothing the small of
her back in a reassuring gesture and she forced her breathing to slow down.
You
can do this. It's only for a short time and then you'll be free to begin your
new life.

When the preacher asked Luke to place a ring on
her finger, she was shocked at the beauty of it. She had expected a simple,
inexpensive band, but this one was intricately carved and exquisite. For a
second, she was sorry she didn't have a band for him and then realized how
ridiculous that thought was. They were only going to be in this mockery of
marriage for a short time.

Pastor Goodbodie said with a slight chuckle,
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Luke,
now
you may kiss your
bride."

Angel sucked a breath and glanced up at Luke.
Her eyes widened when she saw his mouth descend toward hers. The kiss was
brief, light, and shocking for Angel. The kisses she had previously experienced
from men had mostly been bruising, cruel, and degrading.

Mrs. Goodbodie clapped her hands.
"Congratulations! Marriage is a wonderful estate. I've been married to Pastor
Goodbodie for eight years and I can tell you it just gets better and better. We
have three children and hope for many more."

At the mention of children, Angel felt gut
wrenching heartache. Grabbing her stomach, she bent slightly forward. Luke
placed his hands on her shoulders. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I just need to sit for a minute."

Mrs. Goodbodie said, "Gracious goodness,
come sit on the bench."

Luke assisted Angel to the front pew and she
focused on a spot on the floor. Concentrating, she regained her composure.
Turning to Mrs. Goodbodie sitting beside her, she said, "I thank you and
Pastor Goodbodie for your kindness."

The peppy woman patted her hand. "Now,
whenever you two are in town, you must worship with us. I know the other
parishioners would love to meet you. Everyone adores Luke." She gave
Angel's hand a final pat and laughed. "Our single women are going to be so
disappointed that he's taken."

Luke interrupted, "We need to leave now to
catch our train." He reached his hand under Angel's elbow in a gentlemanly
gesture when she stood. After bidding Pastor and Mrs. Goodbodie goodbye, he led
her outside to reenter the coach that had waited for them.

Angel avoided meeting Luke's gaze when the
horses clopped forward. Reaching into her reticule she retrieved her gloves and
paused, staring at the wedding band. The ring was simply stunning. Quickly
donning her gloves, she lifted questioning eyes to Luke's. He glanced from her
hand to her face, an intense expression shadowing his eyes. Angel quickly shifted
her gaze to the window. No words were spoken during the ride back to her hotel
to gather her things.

* * *

Luke paced the depot platform feeling like a
caged animal. Angel sat on the bench behind him. The train was late, but that
wasn't the reason for his agitation. The light kiss he had bestowed on Angel
after the pastor had pronounced them husband and wife had opened a floodgate of
desire. Knowing that there could be nothing physical between them only served
to make him irritable. Turning to pace in the other direction, he slid a
sideways glance at her and hot desire shot through him.
Damn! I hope this
isn't going to plague me until I deliver her to San Francisco.
The bellow
of the train whistle momentarily distracted him.

After what seemed like a long unloading and
boarding process, they were finally seated near the front of the first car in
the best seat money could buy. Still, given the few people that traveled to
Bingham, it wasn't much. Luke settled Angel next to the window and took the
aisle seat. His keen eye honed in on a couple of rough cowboys standing outside
that pointed toward Angel and jabbed one another. He glanced at her to see if
she had noticed and saw a look of panic cross her face. Patting her hand, he
said, "I'm here, Angel. No one is going to harm you." Surprisingly,
she didn't pull her hand away. When the cowboys boarded the train, he squeezed
her fingers and leaned over her toward the window, shielding her from their
view.

After the last person boarded, the porter
stepped down the aisle giving everyone a once over and checking tickets, and
then the whistle blew. The train began a slow chug forward, increasing its
speed until it reached its traveling rate. Luke sensed Angel relax beside him
and within an hour she was nodding as she dozed. Gently pulling her head
against his shoulder, he tried to make her as comfortable as possible. Before
long, he had turned his body toward hers so she would have more support. Her
little hat tickled his nose, and he could smell the freshness of her hair.
Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and soon drifted to sleep himself.

The slowing of the train woke Luke. In his sleep
he had encircled an arm around Angel's shoulders and pulled her against his
chest. She felt so soft and warm he didn't move away. He heard her sigh and
tightened his hold. At her sudden gasp, he berated himself for waking her. She
bolted upright and stared mortified into his eyes.

Lazily, he straightened his body. The porter
yelled, "Jeremiah's Crossing. One hour stopover."

While Angel composed herself, Luke asked,
"Are you hungry? We can eat something here and have supper in
Bingham."

"I'm fine, Luke. I just need to stretch my
legs."

After the train stopped at the station, Luke
stepped into the aisle and waited for Angel to exit in front of him. While they
got their bearings on the depot boardwalk, the rowdy cowboys disembarked and
started pulling out the makings for rolling a smoke. Both men had their eyes
trained on Angel.

"Come on Angel; let's find something to eat
anyway."

She didn't resist when he held her elbow and led
her inside the depot. Arrows pointed the way to a small dining room and the
friendly hostess immediately sat them at a window seat in the almost empty
room.