Angel

Chapter 11

Cassie walked from one end of the porch to the other, then back again, her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts, her eyes anxiously scanning the distant road in both directions. She’d cleaned up after returning to the ranch. She was now wearing a very stylish skirt with three deep flounces in a cream-colored sateen sprigged with tiny flowers. The white silk blouse was trimmed with soft Sicilian lace at the cuffs and the collar, all exposed beneath a thick white shawl. And she’d managed a plain yet becoming coiffure with Maria’s help.

The overall effect was not too fancy, not too understated—“armed,” as her mama would put it, though unlike her mama, Cassie had always chosen subtlety over blatancy when she dressed for a specific reason. Her reason now was to give the appearance of being calm and collected when she was anything but.

She was waiting for Angel to return to the ranch. She’d been waiting for several hours already. And the things she was imagining happening at the Catlin ranch kept her pacing the front porch.

Marabelle paced right alongside her. Occasionally the panther would nudge her leg and Cassie would drop a hand to absently pet the sleek cat. She’d tried once to put her in the house, but Marabelle had just sat back on her haunches and roared her refusal, so Cassie didn’t try again. But then, the feline could always sense when something was wrong with Cassie, and would refuse to leave her side when she did. Appearances couldn’t fool the cat.

It was late afternoon when Cassie finally heard a horse ride in, though she didn’t know if it was Angel’s, since the sound came from behind the house. But she didn’t wait to find out, hurrying around the side of the house and reaching the stable just as Angel did.

“What happened?” she asked before he could even dismount.

She was also wringing her hands. So much for the effort she had put into appearing calm and collected. And the infuriating man didn’t answer immediately — well, possibly because he was having some difficulty with his horse now, since Marabelle had followed Cassie to the stable.

Angel glared down at her from the back of the rearing horse. “I thought I told you to keep that cat away from me.”

“She won’t hurt — never mind. Don’t go away,” she added before she ran back to the house.

She entered through the kitchen, waited until Marabelle had followed her in, then slipped back out, closing the door firmly. A roar of displeasure sounded behind her, but Cassie ignored it and ran back to the stable. Angel was dismounting, though his horse was still acting skittish.

“Well?” she demanded, a bit breathlessly.

He started to lead his horse into the stable, and his voice was on the testy side as he tossed back, “I didn’t have to shoot anyone, if that’s what you’re hankering to hear.”

Cassie felt like collapsing in a puddle of relief. She followed him into the stable instead, despite the disgruntlement he was displaying over what had just happened.

In her lightened mood, she thought to reassure him. “Marabelle wouldn’t hurt you… well, as long as you keep your boots on when she’s around.”

That stopped him. “Why?”

“She’s got a real fondness for feet, mine in particular, but anyone’s will do when she’s in the mood. She loves to rub her face all over them, and occasionally clean her teeth on them.”

“Clean her — how the hell does she do that?”

Cassie grinned. “Not by chewing, I assure you. She just scrapes the surface of her teeth on you, but that can be a bit painful if your feet happen to be bare when she does it.”

He didn’t look reassured. In fact, he looked even more disgruntled. “I don’t intend to find out,” he said with finality and led his horse into the nearest empty stall.

Cassie shrugged behind him. She knew from experience that strangers had a hard time getting used to Marabelle, and an even harder time relaxing around her. Angel wasn’t proving any different in that respect, though there was one major difference in him. He was more likely to shoot her pet if he felt threatened, whereas most folks would simply run from it. So she wasn’t going to give up trying to convince him that Marabelle was harmless, but she let the subject drop for now in favor of her other concern.

“So did you find the Catlins?”

He went about unsaddling his horse as he answered. “I found ‘em.”

“And?”

“And they didn’t take too kindly to the advice I offered.”

“Which was?”

“To leave you alone or end up taking me on. I explained why they might not want to do that.”

She could just imagine. “You didn’t threaten them, did you?”

“Just gave ‘em the new consequences of continuing as they have been.”

Which still told her nothing and she finally was annoyed enough to say, “I swear, getting information out of you is worse than getting a mule to do what you want. Can’t you give it all to me in one dose?”

He gave her a long look. “If anything else happens to you, I’ll be calling on Buck Catlin again. He knows it. His ma knows it. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“To shoot him?”

“Probably.”

Cassie groaned. “I wish you would look a little more reluctant when you say that.”

He frowned at her. “You think I like killing?”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then why don’t you change what you do for a living?”

“Tell me what else I’m suited for. I tried ranching and it didn’t work. I don’t know anything about farming. I could probably open a saloon in some place, but I doubt I’d have the patience to learn the business end of it. The only other thing I know is trapping, but I think I’d rather die than live alone up in the mountains again.”

She was amazed he’d said so much, and that he’d obviously considered other means of work. “You’d make a good sheriff,” she suggested hesitantly. “Didn’t they offer you the job in Cheyenne?”

He went back to tending his horse. “If d take a couple of years as sheriff to earn what I do now for one job. Can’t see as how if d be worth it when I’m risking my life either way.”

He had a point. And she’d had no idea he was so expensive to hire.

The remark stirred her curiosity enough to ask, “You’ve been doing this for quite a few years. Does that make you rich, or do you spend it as soon as you get it?”

He came out to close the stall, then turned to give her his full attention. There was a slight curve to his lower lip when he replied, “Now, what would I have to spend that kind of money on?”

She knew what most young men spent their money on, all of which could be found in a saloon. If he didn’t, he must have a sizable bank account by now.

“Have you thought of retiring?” she wondered aloud, then pressed the point by adding, “Of never killing again?”

“I’ve thought about it, but retiring wouldn’t keep the gloryseekers from finding me and calling me out. I’d have to change my name.”

“So why don’t you?”

“What?”

“Change your name?”

He was silent for so long, she began to fidget under his direct gaze, and then he said, “The last woman who pestered me with so much chattering, I offered to marry — so I’d have the right to beat her.”

Her eyes flared for a moment before she snorted, saying confidently, “You wouldn’t do it. You said it disgusted you to see a man treat his wife that way.”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t, it’s that I wouldn’t want to,” he said in his lazy drawl. “There are nicer things to do with a woman — when she’s not being a pest.” Then with a grin he inquired, “Are you blushing, honey?”

She had to be beet-red, she realized, if he could notice it in the dim stable light. Primly, she insisted, “I’m going to have to ask you to stop saying things like that to me.”

He shrugged. “You can ask,” he replied, then started to leave the stable.

“Wait a minute!”

Cassie hurried after him, then came around to block his way when he stopped at the entrance to the stable. Unfortunately, she brought her blush with her, which was much more discernible in the chilly afternoon sunlight. But she wouldn’t think about that, or his improper remark, which he had probably only made to shut her up. Too bad for him. If he couldn’t stand questions, he ought to be more informative to begin with.

“What took you so long to get back here?” she wanted to know. “You were gone more’n four hours.”

He tipped his hat back with a sigh. “You should have warned me you were a nag as well as a meddler.”

She bristled. “If you weren’t so close-mouthed—”

“All right.” He gave in. “I took a ride over your neighbors’ land counting heads.”

That surprised her. “Cattle?”

“Hired hands,” he corrected her. “It pays to know what you’re up against. I counted twelve hands on the Catlin side.”

Cassie agreed with his reasoning, so decided to be helpful. “They’ve got more’n that. Some must be in town today.”

“And about fourteen on the MacKauley side.”

“Whatever the number’s up to, it’s guaranteed to be the same. Whenever the Catlins hire a new man, the MacKauleys do, too, and vice versa. It’s like they want to be assured of even odds for the day it comes down to outright war.”

“Has it ever?”

“No. But every time I went to church with the MacKauleys on the one side and the Catlins on the other, it seemed like it would at any moment, so many hateful looks kept crossing the aisle. It was experiencing that unpleasant tension every Sunday that put the idea in my head to ease it, especially after I noticed that the looks passing between Jenny and Clayton weren’t hateful at all.”

“If you ask me, you only hurried things along a mite.”

“Now why would you say that?”

“We’d already heard that Clayton is having second thoughts. Appears Jenny might be, too, since, according to her brother, all she does is cry these days.”

“But that’s terrible!”

Angel shrugged. “Depends on what she’s really crying about. Could be those two young ‘uns might have got together eventually without your help. If their kin would leave them alone, they still might.” That brought a thoughtful frown to Cassie’s brow that was easy to interpret. “Don’t even consider it, lady. Hell and your mama should have broke you of that meddling habit of yours.”

She gave him a sour look. “It’s just not fair that Clayton and Jenny are caught up in that feud, that it’s keeping them apart. Do you know, they don’t even know why their folks despise each other.”

“But it’s not your business, they’re not your business, and you aren’t going to interfere again, are you?”

His expression was so intimidating, Cassie said, “Well, when you put it that way, I guess not. But tell me, after meeting her, do you think Dorothy Catlin might be willing to talk to me now?”

“Not a chance. But I did tell her you wouldn’t be leaving until your pa returns. I don’t think you’ll be having any more trouble from that side.”

Cassie smiled slightly. “I guess it didn’t hurt for you to pay them a visit after all. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Well, I’ll let you go.” She started backing away from him toward the house, but added before turning around completely, “Since the other two hands have been staying out on the range, you’re welcome to have dinner at the house.” Emanuel had brought his meal to the bunkhouse last night.

“Is that an invitation?”

His surprised tone flustered her. “No — I mean — yes, it is, but not the way you’re implying.”

“You mean you haven’t started liking me yet, honey?” he asked with a grin.

That teasing question didn’t deserve an answer, but it did get another blush out of her as she whipped around to hurry from his sight. She was beginning to wonder if Angel didn’t have as bizarre a sense of humor as Frazer MacKauley.