Unconventional Series Collection (18 page)

Angel peered up at Luke from beneath her lashes.
"I Guess I'll go bathe. Goodnight, Luke."

"See you in the morning, Angel."

* * *

After Angel left the room, there was another
knock and Luke opened the door to the maid. She cleared the dishes and he
tipped and thanked her generously. If there was one thing he had learned in all
of his travels, it was to always treat hotel help kindly—it made for a pleasant
stay and got him extra favors. Besides that, he knew most of the employees were
just simple folk trying to make a living to support their families.

Kicking back on the settee, he leaned his head
against the cushion and gave in to fatigue and worry. The worry was more
troublesome than the fatigue. How was his father doing? Closing his eyes he
envisioned his strong, capable father and remembered the time after his
mother's death when he and Jenny had been taken out of school—Jenny to care for
Ty, and him to help his father on the ranch. Times had been tough and his attitude
hadn't helped matters. For months, he had been sullen and uncooperative. After
his father had married Abby, his attitude had gotten even worse.

The thing he regretted most was the way he had
behaved during that difficult time. After his change of heart toward Abby,
however, and his realization that his father was doing everything in his power
to keep their ranch from being foreclosed and his children properly cared for,
Luke had done whatever he could to assist his family instead of hinder. From
the age of fifteen until nineteen, he had written three serializations for the
Philadelphia Inquirer and made a little money that he'd tried to give to his
father. His father had refused and instead made him open a savings account at
the bank. At the age of twenty, his fourth adventure story had taken off and
been picked up by other newspapers. He supposed it was because his writing had
matured and also because of the help Abby had given him. By the time the money
started arriving, his father wasn't struggling as much to make a living because
he had invested in a new breed of cows that fattened up better than Longhorns.
Still, Luke had wanted to help his family and done so in ways that kept his
father's pride intact. Now that he was a man, he understood his pa better and
continued to assist by lavishing gifts on birthdays, anniversaries, and
Christmas. When he had given them plans for an addition to their ranch—moving
the kitchen to its own room, his father had adamantly refused. That's when Abby
had interjected, "Honey, don't you remember our talks about allowing
people to give when they have a heart to do so. The giving is not so much for
the receiver, as for the giver. People
need
to give."

Luke had watched his father run a hand through
his hair and gaze lovingly at his wife. "I know, darlin'. It's just
that–"

Abby had interrupted, "It's just what,
Brant? Are you the only one allowed to give in this household?"

"But it's so extravagant and
expensive."

"Since when to we put a price on the giving
heart?"

Luke had watched the exchange in fascination.
Abby was wonderful with his father and had a way of changing her husband's mind
when others couldn't. His father had looked at her, shook his head, and
laughed. Then he'd turned to Luke. "Son, if you're of a mind to do this, I
won't stop you."

In a state of half-sleep, Luke grinned at his
memories. He heard Angel's door creak and opened his eyes. He had turned the
lamplight down and she didn't see him. Mesmerized, he watched her walk to the
hook beside the front door and lift her reticule off of it. She wore a simple
nightgown that buttoned from her neck to her waist and her hair flowed to her
hips, the black color in sharp contrast to the gown's whiteness. She truly had
the hair of an angel. When she turned to retrace her steps to her room, she
noticed him and gasped. Never had Luke seen a more glorious sight and his gut
clenched wondering at the heartaches that had made her into such a broken
woman. Without a word, she hastened from the room.

Angel awoke and stretched luxuriously. Her bed
was so soft and comfortable. Splendid light shined through the hotel window and
touched her face. Still not fully awake, she hugged a pillow to her chest and
felt…safe. Coming fully awake she reveled in the feeling, sure it would last
only until she had to get up and prepare for the day. But for just a few
minutes, she wanted to enjoy a state of being she hadn't experienced in years.

Finally, she arose and dressed in a simple
gingham day dress, bound her hair into a bun, and covered it with a small
bonnet. Grabbing her reticule and opening the door to her room, she hesitated
in the doorway.

"Good morning, Angel." Luke sat
writing at a desk in the sitting room. He looked like he hadn't slept well.

She stepped into the room. "Good morning,
Luke."

"I hope you're hungry. This hotel has an
excellent dining room."

Angel felt anxiety replace her previous peace.
"Maybe we could just eat in our room again like last night?"

Luke pushed away from the desk and came to stand
in front of her. Softly, he said, "Angel, it will be okay. No harm will
come to you." Gently taking her elbow he guided her to the window and
pulled the curtains aside. "It's a beautiful day. We have time for a walk
in the park before our stagecoach leaves."

Angel chewed the inside of her cheek. She really
would enjoy a walk in the fresh air. "Well, I guess."

"You won't be sorry, honey."

Angel decided Luke had been right about the
dining room. It was clean and lovely and served wonderful coffee. They placed
their orders and Angel sipped her coffee laced with cream and sugar. They were
seated next to a window and she spied a paperboy outside. She could hear him
yelling, "Bingham Gazette!"

"Luke, would you buy a newspaper?"

"I certainly will."

Angel watched through the window as Luke
approached the boy, talked with him, made him laugh, and tossed him a coin. The
boy grinned and handed him a paper. Angel felt her heart being drawn to Luke
and the warmth he radiated. He was a wonderful man, of that she was now sure.

When he returned and handed her the newspaper,
she said, "I just love the stories written by Dawson Jeffries. Every
Sunday I read the next installment. I hope this paper carries his series. Have
you ever read his adventure tales?"

Luke suddenly choked on the coffee he was
sipping and it sloshed over the top of his cup.

Angel reached for a napkin. "Goodness. Are
you okay? Here drink some water."

Holding up one hand, he rasped, "I'm
okay." He accepted the water and sipped.

Angel opened the newspaper and scanned the table
of contents. She was rewarded and said excitedly, "They have his stories.
You didn't tell me if you follow them or not."

"I do."

Angel quickly flipped the pages. Locating the
section, she said, "Did you read the last installment about the husband
and wife lost in the Yukon? My heart was in my throat. I can't wait to see what
happens next. Would you like me to read it aloud to you?"

* * *

Luke mentally shook his head at the animation in
Angel's face while she talked about his story and he wondered if he should tell
her that he was Dawson Jeffries. Not many people knew. Early on, he had
discovered that people treated him differently if they found out. They gave him
preferential treatment and didn't act natural around him.

When he was a teenager and had written a couple
of stories for the Philadelphia Inquirer, his hometown had celebrated his
success, but it was then he'd learned about people's reaction to him. That's
when he'd started writing under a pen name and stopped sharing his success.
Because Two Rivers only circulated a tiny local paper, usually only one page,
his stories were soon forgotten by the townsfolk. Besides his parents, only a
few close friends knew about his authorship.

Watching Angel, he decided against informing her
of his identity. That way he could enjoy her delight over his stories.
"Yes, please read it to me."

The waitress brought their breakfast, but Angel
didn't eat. She said, "You eat and I'll read."

Luke lifted a fluffy biscuit to his mouth and
listened.

Damon rushed through the undergrowth holding
tightly to Marci's hand, pulling her behind him. The growl of the bear shot
fear into his heart. He had to save his wife. Bringing her to the Yukon had
been a mistake. She belonged in a mansion, safe and pampered. He was a mountain
man, a wanderer, an adventurer. Love had blinded him to her needs and now love
would have to let her go.

The roar of the bear was closer now, only seconds
away. He prayed that his memory had served him well and the trapper's cabin was
close by. Marci stumbled and he turned to help her. The bear lumbered into
view.

"Run as fast as you can, Marci!" He
practically dragged her along.

Marci yelled, "I want you to know how much
I love you, Damon!"

The cabin came into sight and Damon prayed they
would reach it in time. He pulled Marci up the steps and thrust the door open,
launching them both inside just as the bear bounded onto the porch.

Angel looked up with saucer eyes. "I can
hardly breathe from the suspense."

Luke could only stare at her, his bacon
forgotten. She did things to his heart he had never felt before. He wanted to
forget where they were, forget their arrangement, and pull her into his arms,
kissing her until she clung to him with desire. He swallowed the lump in his
throat.

She continued reading.

Damon shoved the door shut with his shoulder,
secured it, and then pulled Marci into his arms. "My darling, I'm so sorry
for bringing you here. I should have known better. I'm taking you back to the States.
I can't ask you to live in this barbarous wilderness."

Marci pushed away from him. "What are you
saying? What do you mean you're taking me back? I'm not going anywhere. You
belong here and I belong with you. I love this wilderness!"

"No, Marci. We were almost killed."

"Do you not know that returning me to the
States will kill me? I cannot fathom living that empty lifestyle again. I
belong here, with you."

"No! I'm taking you back to safety."

Marci opened her mouth to protest again, but the
door was suddenly kicked open and a filthy trapper aimed a rifle straight at
them. "Now what have we here?" he smirked.

(To be continued)

Angel sighed. "We have to wait a week to
see what happens. I hope Two Rivers has a paper that carries the
installments."

Luke replied, "Sorry, Angel, they don't.
You better eat. Your food is getting cold."

She placed a hand over her heart. "I just
need a second for my pulse to slow down. I wonder what's going to happen with
the trapper?"

Luke lifted his napkin to his mouth and grinned.
He was getting more pleasure out of watching Angel's reaction to the story than
he did in writing it.

Finally, she buttered a biscuit, added some
preserves, and sighed. She ate everything on her plate.

Angel gazed out the stagecoach window at rolling,
tree covered hills. The terrain was quite lovely and she could see why Luke
spoke affectionately of the area. Squeezed between Luke and a heavyset woman,
it was impossible to put any distance between herself and her new husband. His
body felt hard and warm and her awareness of him made her nervous. He was too
masculine and kept her stomach tied up in knots. Maybe she shouldn't have
agreed to come with him. Maybe she should have insisted they marry after he
returned from visiting his parents. Maybe…"

Across from them, the heavyset woman's heavyset
husband said, "Yep, me and Bessie Jane are gonna run a diner in Two
Rivers. We got a business arrangement with the hotel to take over the current
operation. Now my Bessie is just about the best cook in Texas and I'm not too
bad myself." He patted the heads of his two chubby children. "And
Jethro and Johnny are learnin' the trade. Ain't that right boys?"

"That's right, Pa. Ma, I'm hungry. You got
anymore cinnamon pastries," asked the boy directly across from Angel. The
other boy vigorously bobbed his head. "Me, too."

Bessie Jane chuckled. "Course I do,
boys." She opened the bag on her lap and pulled out a napkin enfolding
golden pastries dusted with cinnamon. "Would you like some Mr. and Mrs.
Samson?"

Angel blinked at her address of "Mrs.
Samson" before glancing at the beautiful pastry. She said, "I would
love some if you have enough."

Luke grinned. "You don't have to ask me
twice. Looks delicious. And I'm glad to hear you're the new cooks. Lets just
say that, well, the hotel dining room hasn't been popular for a long
time."

Angel took a bite of the pastry Bessie Jane
handed her. Closing her eyes she savored the mingled flavors and separated each
one in her mind. "Wonderful," she breathed. She opened her eyes to
see Luke staring at her mouth. She stopped chewing when he reached to brush
crumbs away.

"You got a few crumbs there, Angel,"
he said low. He took a bite of his own pastry and moaned. "This is
incredible."

Angel couldn't take her eyes off Luke and wanted
to lift her hand to brush the crumbs off his lips, too. She glanced at Mr.
Smythe, who winked. "I bet you two is newlyweds. Am I right?"

Angel felt her face burn when Luke responded,
"As a matter of fact, we are." She looked down. Oh, this was awkward.
Changing the subject, she engaged the Smythes in conversation about baking and
they chatted happily, all the while handing out more of the delicious dessert.

Eventually, the children fell asleep against
each other and Mrs. Smythe yawned. "I think I'll close my eyes for a little
while, too."

Her husband said with his eyes at half mast,
"Good idea."

Angel felt herself drifting.

* * *

Luke shifted his body so his sleeping angel
could be more comfortable and savored having her so close. Placing his arm
gently around her he offered the comfort of his chest, like he had done on the
train. She sighed and breathed against his neck. The coach hit a rut and he
thought she might wake, but she only snuggled closer and placed her hand on his
shoulder. The woman smelled wonderful and he moved his head to avoid her
bonnet, inhaling her womanly fragrance before he drifted to sleep himself.

"Two Rivers!" shouted the driver and
slowed the horses.

Luke tightened his arms around something
incredibly soft and pliable. Suddenly, the soft thing jerked out of his arms,
which jerked him awake. Angel's bonnet sat askew and a long strand of hair had
fallen over her shoulder and down her breast. Mesmerized by the strand, he
lifted and fingered it. He heard her sharp intake and looked from the strand
into her green cat-eyes. For just a second her eyes widened and then she began
fixing her hair and tucking the lock back into its bun.

The children started pushing each other and Mrs.
Smythe reached to bat their hands. "You boys behave. Soon enough you'll be
able to run and play."

The coach came to a halt and the driver jumped
down, throwing the door open. Luke allowed Mr. Smythe to exit first, followed
by the children. Then he stepped out and helped Angel and Mrs. Smythe down. The
plump woman exclaimed, "Finally, we're here. I can't wait to start making
that dining room a success!" Her husband placed his arm around her and
kissed her rosy round cheek.

Luke scanned the hotel porch for toothless
Charlie, saw him, and waved. Charlie grinned. "Howdy, Luke. Guess you're
back so soon 'cause o' yer pa's accident. I was right sorry ta hear 'bout that.
Me and some o' the townsfolk been checkin' up on yer family. But yer ma will
sure be glad ta see ya."

"Thanks Charlie. If I borrow Clyde's
buckboard, do you think you could drive us out to my pa's and then on to my
place?"

"Sure thing." Charlie glanced at
Angel.

Luke said, "I'd like you to meet Angel, my
wife."

Charlie's toothless grin widened and he removed
his hat, lifted off the railing, and bowed. "I'm right pleased ta meet ya,
Mrs. Samson."

Luke explained to Angel, "I've known
Charlie most of my life. He's a fixture around these parts and has the most
beautiful singing voice you've ever heard."

Angel smiled. "I'm very pleased to meet
you, Charlie."

Charlie stepped off the portico and came to
shake Luke's hand before lifting Angel's to his lips and kissing it. Luke
smiled at the older man's gallantry and was surprised when Angel didn't flinch.
She said shyly, "You're very kind."

Charlie's smile showcased his missing teeth.
"I'll go next door and borrow the buckboard while you get yer bags."

One of the drivers yelled, "Bags are comin'
down. Please step aside."

Luke led Angel to the porch and then assisted
the drivers.

* * *

Angel watched Luke handle their baggage and then
scanned the town. It appeared to consist of a main street and a side street
with businesses lining both. Next to the hotel was a store with a big sign
posted above the door:
Clyde Jenkins General Store.
Beyond the store at
the very fringe of town sat a white-washed church with steeple. Cozying next to
the church, another white-washed building looked to be a schoolhouse. Turning
and glancing toward the opposite end of the street, Angel noted a bank.
Glancing across the road from where she stood, she first heard, and then saw, a
blacksmith striking an anvil and shaping iron. Next door to the blacksmith's a
young boy led a horse inside a stable. Down the side street beside the stable,
and away from the reputable businesses, a saloon with patrons entering through swinging
doors could be seen. Returning her gaze to the boardwalk on her side of the road,
she noticed signs for a doctor, sheriff, milliner, and various other
establishments. All in all, the town was tiny and reminded her of the one she
had grown up in until her father died. The few pedestrians and people driving
buggies called greetings to Luke.

Charlie pulled a buckboard in front of the hotel
at the same time a stocky man with salt and pepper hair and a long, matching
beard came rushing over from the general store. "Luke, son, I just had to
say hello before you took off. I'm right sorry to hear about your pa's
accident. I already told your ma, but I'll tell you, too; credit's open at the
store for anything your family needs."

Luke slapped the friendly man on the shoulder
and then shook his hand. "Thanks, Clyde."

Clyde glanced curiously at Angel. Luke said,
"I'd like you to meet my wife, Angel. Angel, this is Clyde Jenkins.
Clyde's run this store since before I was born."

The store proprietor looked surprised and then
grinned huge. Placing a finger to his forehead in a little salute, he said,
"Howdy, ma'am. I'm right pleased to meet ya. You married a fine,
upstanding young man and the single ladies round here are gonna be sorry he's
off the market."

Angel wasn't sure how she should respond and
simply said, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Jenkins."

Mr. Jenkins smiled big again and reached for one
of their bags. "You just call me Clyde, like everyone else." He
looked at Luke. "Let me help you load up, son."

"Thanks, Clyde."

Charlie jumped off the buckboard and helped load
suitcases into the wagon bed and then hopped in the back beside them. Luke
encircled Angel's waist and lifted her onto the seat before hoisting himself up
next to her. With a call of "See ya soon, Clyde! Thanks for lending the
buckboard," he circled the horses around and headed out of town.

The much traveled road was bordered by trees
that occasionally gave way to meadows or outcroppings of granite. Angel said,
"I didn't expect so much foliage. The land is quite lovely. And so many
wild flowers."

"It is beautiful. My family lives four
miles south of town and my own land sits adjacent to theirs. My ranch house is
about two miles further. I bought the land a few years back, but just recently
completed my home. I built the caretakers' quarters and barn first. My desire
is to run a small cattle ranch like my father and spend several months a year
here. The rest of the time, I'll be traveling for business obligations. My
ranch caretakers are Boone and Marylou Keith. Marylou and I went to school
together. Boone was a drifter just passing through, but after he met Marylou,
he started courting her. He'd been working cattle drives for twenty years and
was ready to settle down. I'm lucky to have them working my ranch, but I expect
someday they'll buy their own place. I'll be happy for them but sad to see them
leave."

Angel watched a monarch butterfly zip in front
of her face and light on her arm. When it was joined by a second one that
landed on Luke's knee, she watched his expression shift to one of pure joy. He
laughed heartily and she gave him a questioning look. He said, "Someday
I'll tell you about my family's encounters with butterflies."

Angel returned his smile, glancing back at the
lovely creatures that stayed with them for a long time before flying toward the
trees. She was sorry to see them go.

The sun warmed Angel's face and she raised it to
the sky, suddenly feeling lighthearted. However fleeting the moment, it
surprised her.

* * *

Luke pulled the wagon around the last bend of
trees before his parents' cabin and glanced at Angel. The fresh air had already
done her good. When she'd closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun
earlier, he'd almost run the buckboard off the road he'd been so distracted by
her beauty.

As he slowed the horses and pulled to the front
of the cabin, his brothers, James and Rusty, rushed through the door, followed
by Abby. He pulled back on the reins. "Whoa!"

Rusty grabbed the bridle of one horse and James
grabbed the bridle of the other. Rusty said, "We knew you'd come back.
Ma's been lookin' out the window everyday expecting you. I'm sure glad to see
you again. Pa was in a bad way, but he's gettin' better now."

Luke hopped off the wagon and Charlie jumped
down from the back.

"Hey Charlie. Good to see you, too,"
said Rusty.

Charlie ruffled Rusty's hair and grinned at
James. "I always enjoy seein' you boys."

Luke circled the buckboard to help Angel down
and couldn't help but chuckle at the curiosity lighting his brothers' faces. As
soon as he'd set her on the ground, Abby ran up and gave him a big hug. "I
knew you'd come, son, even though I told you it wasn't necessary. Your pa's
going to be happy to see you, but he's also going to give you hell for returning."

"I know, Ma."

Abby turned to Angel and smiled warmly. Luke
said, "Ma, I'd like you to meet Angel Samson—my wife." He knew he'd
have to do some explaining later when he was alone with his ma and pa, but he
enjoyed the startled looks on Abby's and his brothers' faces.

Abby placed her hands on her cheeks.
"Goodness, Luke. When did this happen?"

"Yesterday."

Abby enfolded Angel in a bear hug. "Oh, my
dear, I'm so happy to meet you! This is wonderful!" She looked at Luke,
"Brant is going to be so pleased."

Angel said softly, "I'm happy to meet you,
too, Mrs. Samson."

"Oh goodness, you must call me Abby or even
Ma, if you want." She looked at Charlie. "Thanks for coming, Charlie.
Let's hurry inside. Luke, you and Angel lead the way."

Luke gently touched Angel's elbow and guided her
up the porch steps. Leaning over, he whispered, "I'll explain things to
them later. For now, it's easier to go along with the charade than try to make
them understand our arrangement."

* * *

Angel entered the house, followed by Luke.
Immediately, he skirted around her and rushed to his pa lying on a bed that had
been set before the hearth. The man lay flat on his back with a blanket pulled
to his waist. His chest would have been bare had it not been for wrappings
around his ribs. One arm was in a splint and a leg in a splint peeked out from
beneath his blanket. His powerful chest and arms were covered in bruises and a
long gash ran down his cheek.