Welcome to the World of Carolyn Lampman

Silver Springs Excerpt

CHAPTER 1
South Pass City, Wyoming Territory, 1872

“There’s a gentleman wants to see you, Miss Angel.” The bartender glared toward the back of the casino. “I put him in your office.”

Angel was surprised. Sam rarely disapproved of anyone. “Who is it?”

“Said his name was Goff.”

“Never heard of him. What does he want?”

“I don’t know. Said he’d only talk to the owner of the Green Garter.” Sam eyes narrowed. “Want me to throw him out?”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think I should find out what he wants first?”

“Maybe. I ain’t so sure I’d want to know.”

Angel could hardly wait to meet this Mr. Goff and see for herself what had ruffled the taciturn Sam’s feathers. “Don’t worry, Sam. If he needs to be bounced out of here, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Can’t wait,” Sam muttered.

“By the way, Sam,” Angel said as she headed toward the back, “will you tell Peg I want to see her when Mr. Goff leaves?”

“Why, she done something wrong?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. Just send her in.”

Angel walked into her office without waiting to hear the protest she knew was coming. She smiled to herself as she closed door behind her. Sam protected the women who lived and worked at the Green Garter as if they were his own daughters.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Goff,” she said pleasantly to the man sitting in front of her desk. “What can I do for you?”

He jumped to his feet. “There’s been some kind of mistake. I’m here on business not pleasure. However,” he said giving her an appreciative once over, “after I’ve talked to your boss, I’m sure you and I could think of some way to while away the afternoon that we’d both enjoy.”

“I doubt it.” Angel calmly walked around her desk and sat on the only other chair. “My bartender said you wanted to see the owner of the Green Garter and that’s me.”

“But you’re a woman!”

“How very perceptive of you to notice,” Angel said. “At the risk of repeating myself, what can I do for you?”

He sat down uncertainly. “I’ve never done business with a woman before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Very true.” He steepled his fingers and gazed at her. “I want to buy this place.”

“The Green Garter is not for sale.”

Mr. Goff smiled confidently. “You haven’t heard my offer yet.”

“That’s also true. However, I doubt it would change my mind.”

“Not even for ten thousand dollars?”

Angel blinked. “I must admit that’s a very attractive offer. Nevertheless...”

“Naturally, that includes all the equipment and stock,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “As well as the girls.”

“The girls?”

“Of course. You have one of the nicest stables I’ve ever seen. That’s one of the things that impressed me about this place.”

“My girls are not for sale either,” Angel said coldly. “In case you missed it, President Lincoln abolished slavery nine years ago.”

“Oh come now, we both know they sell themselves for a living. I suppose the next thing you’ll be telling me is that you don’t take a percentage of their earnings.”

Angel stood up. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time, Mr. Goff. The Green Garter is not for sale.”

“Don’t be so hasty. You’re not likely to get as good an offer from anyone else. “

“It wouldn’t matter if I got a better offer. The fact remains; this place is not for sale. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather pressing business to attend to.”

Mr. Goff rose reluctantly. “All right, but at least give my offer some thought.”

“I will,” she said walking him to the door. “But it won’t make any difference.”

“You might change your mind.”

“If I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

He smiled. “Good. I’ll be at the Sherlock Hotel for the next couple of days. I’m sure you’ll reconsider.”

“Right,” she murmured as he walked away. “When hell freezes over.”

“Since he’s walking out of here in one piece, I guess the offer he made you wasn’t what it sounded like,” said a deep voice from the shadows.

Angel whirled and peered into the dark hallway outside her office. “Ox?”

“Who else?”he asked sauntering out into the light. “How’s my favorite red head?”

“I ought to box your ears,” she said. “You scared me half to death. How did you get in here anyway?”

“Sam let me in the back door so I could put your supplies in the store room.” He grinned. “I got your new roulette wheel.”

Angel’s eyes lit up. “You did? Where is it?”

“It’s out in the freight wagon. Found it in Omaha.”

“No wonder you have the reputation for being the best freighter around. I didn’t figure there was one within a thousand miles.”

“At Bruford Freight lines we do everything we can to please our customers,” Ox said. “I suppose you want to see it?”

“What do you think?”

He made a sweeping motion toward the back door with his hand. “After you.”

“Hold on a second.” Angel ducked back in side her office and grabbed her coat. Her heart was still pounding as she walked by Ox a few moments later, but it had more to do with Ox Bruford himself than the fright he’d given her. Those gorgeous green eyes and that tall, broad-shouldered body of his always made her feel like a giddy debutante, a silly girl in the throes of her first love. One look at that heart stopping grin of his and she’d catch herself daydreaming about running her hands through his thick brown hair and tracing the hard line of his jaw with her fingers. Luckily, he had no idea of the effect he had on her. The last thing she needed was for him to discover her weakness. “I suppose this is going to cost me a small fortune,” she grumbled to hide the vulnerability he made her feel.

“Actually, I got it second hand. Even with the cost to ship it to Rock Springs by rail, it was less than you budgeted for.” He followed her outside. “Of course, it’s going to cost you extra for bringing it up the mountain in the dead of winter like this.”

Angel glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“How about an apple pie to go with supper?”

Angel stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Now where am I going to get apples in South Pass City this time of year?”

“I just happen to have a dozen right here.” Ox reached under the tarpaulin that covered his load and pulled out a flour sack. “A widow down in Green River gave me some of her winter’s store out of undying gratitude.”

Angel cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think I want to know what you did to deserve them.”

“A trifling service,” Ox said waving his hand.

“I’ll bet.” Angel had no doubt the widow didn’t consider the matter trifling. All that masculine appeal was pretty hard to resist, especially when it came with a heart as big as Wyoming Territory. Angel found it in her to feel a little sorry for the widow. “All right, I’ll bake you a pie. I take it you’re planning on staying the night?”

“Of course. Since you're the only customer who gives me room and board for bringing in supplies, I have to take advantage of it when I can.”

Angel gave an unladylike snort. “I figured it would be a lot cheaper than paying those exorbitant rates you charge. But the way you eat, I’m not sure I got the better end of the bargain.”

Ox’s eyes twinkled. “Sorry, it’s too late to change now. A deal’s a deal. Anyway, this should make you feel better about it,” he said throwing back the tarp. “Madam, your new roulette wheel.”

Oh, Ox!” she cried, “It’s mahogany, how beautiful.”

“Story is, it came off a riverboat, one of those floating palaces.”

Angel ran her hands reverently over the polished wood, delighting in the rich red hue. “You know, I might have to bake you an extra pie to take with you for this. It’s far nicer than I hoped for.”

“Who’s that unsavory looking character across the street?” Ox asked suddenly. “I don’t like the way he keeps staring at you.”

Angel followed his gaze across the street and wrinkled her nose.“Oh, that’s just Jim Dugan.”

“I don’t think he’s one of your admirers,” Ox said spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the street. “In fact, he looks distinctly unfriendly.”

“Can’t say that I’m surprised.” Angel frowned. “He got little too rough with one of the girls last night. I had to ask him to leave.”

“He looks angrier than that.”

“I suppose it could have something to do with the way I got my point across,” Angel admitted. “He was as ornery as an old boar grizzly, refusing to go, making a nuisance of himself. He made the mistake of grabbing me.”

“Where was Sam?”

“Downstairs at the bar where he belongs. It didn’t matter. A well-placed knee took care of the problem.”

Ox winced. “Ouch. That’s hardly the way to endear yourself to your customers.”

“I can do without customers like Jim Dugan, thank you.” She pushed herself away from the wagon. “And I have better things to do than stand here chit chatting about him all day. Do you have other deliveries to make in South Pass City?”

“Nope you’re the last, and all I have left of yours is the roulette wheel. Where do you want me to put it?”

“Right where the old one was. I’ll send Sam out to give you a hand.”

“We’ll have it set up and working by supper time.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m looking forward to that pie.”

“You’ve earned it,” Angel said over her shoulder. She stopped in surprise just inside the back door. A young woman stood against the wall, looking as though she wanted to fade into the woodwork. “Good heavens, Peg what’s wrong?”

“Sam said you wanted to see me.”

“I do, but I promise you it’s nothing to be afraid of. My plans just changed so I don’t have time to meet with you right now, though. How about you dropping by my office right after closing tonight?”

“I guess so.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Peg. Don’t look like that. I promise you have nothing to worry about. Now cheer up!”

Peg gave her a fleeting smile. “All right.”

“That’s much better.” Angel glanced at the gold watch pinned to the bodice of her green taffeta dress. “Would you mind getting a bath ready for Ox? He always likes to take one as soon as he gets in off the trail.”

“I’d be glad to, but don’t you usually do that?”

“Yes. However, today I have something more pressing to attend to.” She smiled and held up the sack of apples. “I have a pie to bake.”

#

It was well after midnight when Peg nervously entered Angel’s office. “M...my last customer just left,” she said.

“Good. Have a seat,” Angel said, closing the door. “Rumor has it you and young Fenwick are thinking about getting married.”

Peg, who had just settled gingerly on the edge of the chair, jumped to her feet in alarm. “He pays for my time just the same as everyone else.”

“Relax, Peg. Nobody’s accusing you of anything.” Angel put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder and gently pushed her down onto the chair again before walking around behind the desk. “Do you plan on marrying him?”

“He’s asked me.” Peg glanced miserably down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “But we’d have to start over somewhere else, and that takes money.”

“If money weren’t a problem, would you marry him?”

“Quicker than an a cat could lick its ear.”

“Good.” Angel opened her safe and pulled out a small leather pouch. “I went to the bank this afternoon and made a withdrawal for you.”

Peg gave her a blank look. “I don’t have any money in the bank.”

“On the contrary, you had seven hundred dollars,” Angel said with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind gold dust.”

“Seven hundred dollars!” Peg’s eyes widened in astonishment. “But where...?”

“This is my cut of your earnings; I’ve been keeping track since the night you started.” Angel pushed the pouch across the desk. “I make my money off the casino, not what the brothel brings in. You and the others are the drawing cards here, but I don’t figure I have any right to the money you make. Other than a little I take out each month for food and expenses, it’s all here. ”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just take it and start your new life as Mrs. Fenwick. I do ask that you keep this to yourself, though. Don’t tell Billy until you’re well away from South Pass City. Sam doesn’t even know.”

“But why?”

“I have a reputation as a hard-nosed business woman to protect. No one is going to believe it if they find out I do this for my girls.” Angel smiled as she rose to her feet and walked around the desk to the door. “Unless my eyes deceived me, your young man was waiting for you at the bar.”

“Oh, Miss Angel,” Peg cried. With tears running down her face she hugged the other woman. “Thank you with all my heart.”

You’re welcome,” Angel said hugging her back. “And good luck to both of you.”

Angel walked back to her desk, pulled out a small ledger, and smiled as she wrote Paid In Full across the column marked Peg. She’d helped almost twenty women over the years, giving them a chance at a normal life.

Six had been working at her first casino and she hadn't known what to do with them. If she'd closed down the brothel, they'd have had no place to go, but the thought of making money from prostitution was repugnant. That's when she'd come up with the idea of ‘freedom money.’ When there was enough to give them a new start, or the opportunity like Peg’s arose, Angel presented what she’d put aside for them with no strings attached.

“Here’s today’s receipts,” Sam said, walking in and slapping the papers on the desk. “I’m closing down the casino for the night.”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “From the look on your face I take it you’re not too happy with me.”

“Peg and Billy Fenwick just went upstairs to collect her things.” Sam glared at Angel. “I think she said she was leaving, but she was crying too hard to be sure.”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Sam. What happens between the girls and me is none of your business.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I have to approve.”

Angel winced as he slammed the door behind him. She’d probably get the cold shoulder for a few days until he calmed down. Sam’s soft heart was one of the things she loved most about him.

Three quarters of an hour later Angel her paperwork away. She stood and stretched wearily before blowing out the lamp. Darkness greeted her as she opened her office door and stepped out into the hallway. Sam must really be angry. He always left a light burning on the bar so she could find her way upstairs.

Suddenly a hand covered her mouth while another jerked her arms behind her and dragged her into the storeroom. A rope snaked around her body and legs completely immobilizing her.

“Watch those knees of hers,” said a voice out of the darkness. “She’s got a kick like a damn mule.”

“Don’t worry, Jim, I got her all right and tight,” replied another voice.

The door slammed. “There, she can scream her head off and nobody will hear her. All the whores sleep on the other side of the building. Nothin’ above us here but the cribs.”

A match flared in the darkness, and Angel saw the man’s features for the first time. Her mouth went dry. Jim Dugan.

“Nobody in the cribs this time of night,” he said, touching the match to a lantern wick. “Everyone’s done their screwin’ and gone home.” He leered at Angel. “Everybody but us, honey. Don’t reckon we need one of them fancy beds, though. The floor will work just fine for the likes of you.” Dugan ran a dirty finger around the neckline of her dress. “Can’t hardly wait to see all that pretty white skin.”

Angel gathered every drop of saliva she could and spit in face. “Pig!”

“Why you little...”

The hard slap snapped her head back against the wall and blinding pain burst in her head. There was a loud crash, and a roar echoed through the room. At first Angel thought it was from the agony in her head. Then the hands holding her jerked away, and Ox’s face, contorted with rage, swam into view.

Angel slid down the wall to a heap on the floor, unable to focus on the fight that was going on. By the time her vision cleared, Dugan lay unconscious on the floor and Ox was involved in a fistfight with the other man. As she watched, Ox began to get the upper hand. With one final punch, he smashed his fist into the other man’s face.

As Ox’s adversary crumpled, Angel suddenly caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. “Look out, Ox!” she yelled. “Dugan’s got a knife.”

Ox turned just in time to deflect the murderous lunge aimed at his back. The knife flashed upward, slicing his cheek. One blow from the big fist sent Dugan crashing to the floor, just as Sam appeared at the door with his shotgun.

“What the hell?”

“Go get the sheriff, Sam,” Ox said, stumbling across the room to where Angel was trying to get up. “This scum attacked Angel.”

“Oh, Ox,” she cried, as he unwound the rope from her body.

“It’s all right, Angel, they can’t hurt you now.” Ox kicked the rope away and swept her up in his arms. She sobbed against his shoulder as he carried her across the hall to her office, where he sat down with her still cradled against him, rocking back and forth, whispering soft words of encouragement until she stopped crying.

For the first time in her life, Angel felt safe in a man’s arms. Yet, she knew it was an illusion. Any man, even a well-intentioned one like Ox, would try to dominate her if he had the chance. It was just the way they were.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up and wiping her eyes. “I’ve never cried like that before.”

“You’ve probably never been attacked like that either.”

“No, I...., Ox, your cheek!” Angel stared in horror at the blood dripping down his face.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s a knife cut and needs to be attended to.” She squirmed off his lap. “My bandages are in the kitchen. I’ll doctor it there.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

In the kitchen, she filled a bowl from the kettle on the back of the stove. ““Here sit down. I hope you don’t need stitches. Doc Caldwell is out of town, and I’m not much of a needle woman.”

“You sure know how to make a man relax,” he said sarcastically as she sponged the blood away.

“I never professed to be a nurse.” Angel bit her lip as she washed away the last of the blood. Instead of the clean slice she’d been hoping for, she saw a jagged puncture wound, the most dangerous kind of all. She had to prevent infection at all cost. “Looks like he just nicked you. What were you doing down here anyway?”

“I heard some news I thought might interest you.”

“Really? Open that bottle of whiskey for me, would you?”

“Sure. Is it so bad you need a drink?”

“Don’t be silly. I’m out of iodine and I need something to clean the cut. Now what was this important news?”

“I was talking to some of the hard-rock miners. They’re planning on pulling up stakes and leaving. Jesus Christ, Angel!” The air whistled in through his clenched teeth as she poured whiskey on his cheek. “That hurt worse than when he cut me! What are you trying to do?”

“You saved my life. I’m just returning the favor.” She resisted the urge to hold his hand and pillow his good cheek against her shoulder until the pain faded. “Be glad I was out of iodine.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t dive out in front of a run-away buggy to save you. I wouldn’t have lived through your gratitude.”

“What did the miners tell you that was so all fired important?”

“The mines are shutting down.”

“What? The assays say there’s gold ore all over this mountain.

“Right, but it’s too expensive to process. There’s no profit in it.”

Angel frowned. “Then South Pass City will be a ghost town before long.”

“Looks that way.”

“Sheriff Lucien is rounding up Dugan and his friend,” Sam said from the kitchen door. “Are you all right, Miss Angel?”

“Thanks to Ox, I am.” Angel poured Ox a glass of whiskey. “Sam, first thing tomorrow I want you to go to the Sherlock Hotel and tell Mr. Goff I want to see him.”

“What for?”

She calmly put the cork back in the whiskey bottle. “Hell just froze over.”

CHAPTER 2

Angel paused in front of the Green Garter and glanced down the deserted street. Who would have believed South Pass City could die in a mere three months? With a sigh, she turned and went inside the empty casino. “How’s the inventory coming along, Sam,” she asked, closing the door behind her.

“Almost done. I saved this for you.” Sam frowned as he rubbed his thumb across the label on the bottle of whiskey. “This is the last of your special stock. I thought you might like to keep it for a special occasion.”

Angel smiled. “Good idea. Maybe we'll use it to christen the new place when we get set up.”

“I figured we'd do that with champagne.”

“Why, Sam, I would never have expected such extravagance from you.”

He grinned. “Nothing will be too good for The Palisade Palace. It won't be in a mining town like South Pass City either. We'll find a place where the customers have a little class and lots of money.” Sam's smile disappeared as he set the bottle on the bar and glanced around. “Ah, who am I fooling? I love this place. There will never be another Green Garter. Maybe I should have bought you out.”

“Don't get maudlin on me, Sam. This town is all but empty now; in six months it will be a ghost town. I was lucky to find a buyer.”

“I guess so. I couldn't run it without the girls anyway. I still can't believe none of them wanted to go with us.”

“Mmm, well maybe they had something else to do,” Angel said noncommittally as she picked up the bottle of whiskey. “I'll be in my office if you need me for anything.”

She left her office door cracked and moved purposefully across the room. Setting the bottle on the corner of her desk, she took out her small ledger and sat down with a satisfied sigh. She flipped open the book, dipped her pen in the ink and wrote Paid In Full across the four remaining columns with a flourish.

Then she leaned back in the chair and permitted herself a rare moment of celebration. Another victory in her secret crusade. Four more women had a chance at life again, free to start over, to find happiness. When she called them into her office this morning, they had all expected their walking papers. Instead she’d given them their freedom money and a chance to put their past behind them.

“Howdy, Sam,” said a familiar voice through the half-open door. “Do you know anybody named Angelica Brady?”

Angel's head jerked up. What in God's name did Ox want with Angelica?

“Can't say I ever heard of her,” Sam said after a moment. “Why?”



“A man in Rock Springs gave me a message to deliver to her. Seemed pretty sure I'd find her here.”

“Some of the girls don't use their own names. Could be Miss Angel knows who she is.”

“Good thought. Where is she?”

“In her office. Go on back.”

Willing her heart to stop pounding, Angel stuffed the small ledger into a drawer and grabbed her pen. By the time Ox stuck his head through the door a few seconds later, she was diligently working on her business accounts.

“Hope I'm not interrupting anything,” he said.

Angel looked up with a smile. “Nothing that can't wait until later.”

“How's my favorite blackjack dealer?” Ox asked cheerfully as he took off his hat and sat down across the desk from her.

“Out of business in case you couldn't tell.”

Ox grinned. “The place did look a mite empty when I came through. I thought maybe you were doing some redecorating in the three weeks since I was here last.”

“Of course. Vacant casinos are all the rage now,” she said sardonically. “How was your trip up the mountain?”

“About the same as usual, except I only had about half a load.” Ox sighed. “This is my last run. There's not much sense in hauling freight when there’s nobody left to buy it.”

“You'll find another route easy enough.”

“I know, but I always kind of liked it here. I suppose you'll be leaving soon too. “

“As soon as I tie up all the loose ends. The girls are already gone. Sam and I should be finished up by next week. I have to admit though, I’m real tempted to wait around until Mr. Goff arrives to take possession of his new casino. He hasn’t been back since I agreed to sell it to him three months ago.”

“After you got done with him, he probably figured you’d try to get out of the deal.” Ox grinned. “He was convinced he’d taken gross advantage of you.”

“I know and he wound up paying me twice what it was worth. Maybe it will teach him not to underestimate women.”

“That reminds me. I've got a letter here for somebody named Angelica Brady. Do you know where to find her?”

“I can see that she gets it.”

“I thought you probably could.” He pulled the letter out of his pocket and looked at it. “Funny how much Angelica sounds like Angel.”

She shrugged. “Coincidences like that happen all the time.”

“I guess so,” he said as he handed her the letter. “You know it’s kind of strange. I don’t think I’ve ever hear your last name.”

“Don’t use one.” Let him speculate all he wanted. Unless she admitted to being Angelica Brady, he’d never be positive his suspicions were correct.

“That’s kind of peculiar isn’t it?”

“In my business you don’t need a last name. Besides it’s no worse than being called Ox.” Angel glanced at her sister’s familiar handwriting on the envelope and wondered if it contained bad news. Alexis’s letters had been increasingly agitated lately. She nonchalantly dropped the letter onto her desk as though she had no interest in it. “Do you expect me to believe your mother actually name you after an over-grown steer.”

Ox chuckled. “You know what I love about you, Angel?”

Her heart lurched. Why did he have to say things like that? “I haven't got a clue.”

“Nobody even puts a dent in that armor of yours. Nothing ever seems to bother you.”

“Life's too short to worry about what other people think.”

“That’s true enough.” He nodded toward the bottle on her desk. “Planning on getting drunk?”

“Hardly. It’s the last bottle in the place.” Angel pulled two glasses out of a drawer. “Join me in a drink?”

“That depends, is this some of that special stock you keep under the bar or the rotgut you sell the miners cheap?”

“What do you think? Sam just handed it to me and suggested I save it for a special occasion.”

“Ah, the good stuff. Shall I do the honors?”

“Please.”

Angel watched Ox open the bottle and pour the amber liquid. Dented? Hell, he was the one man who had cut right through her armor and stolen her heart.

Ox smiled his big lovable grin as he handed her a glass and raised his own in a toast. “To the best friendship I ever had. May neither of us ever forget it.”

“To friendship.” Friendship? How could feelings like these be so one-sided? Instead of wallowing in “if onlys”, as she was tempted to do, Angel sipped her drink and studied the depression in one rugged cheek. The scar hadn’t marred his face a bit. In fact it looked almost like a dimple, one that deepened beguilingly when he smiled. It was going to be tough to say good-bye.

Why so serious?” he asked.

“Oh, I was just thinking how much I'm going to miss all this.” She waved her hand to encompass the room. “The Green Garter has been good to me.”

“I know. I almost feel like I'm losing my home.”

“You should. You've stayed here often enough.”

“Pretty hard to resist a deal like you made me. A soft bed whenever I was in town and as much food as I could stuff in.” He patted his stomach “You're about the best cook in Wyoming Territory. If you ever get tired of running a casino you could open a restaurant.”

“I tried that once. It may be more respectable but it isn't anywhere near as profitable, especially in a place like this where men would rather gamble than eat. I run an honest game and they flock to my tables. As long as there aren't many players like Swede, who win more often than they lose, I make good money.”

“I don't remember you ever telling Swede he wasn't welcome here.”

“Of course not,” Angel said. “He was good for business. Seeing somebody win like that all the time makes people more willing to part with their money. I haven't had near the take since he and Becky left town. I got a letter from them last week, by the way. They send you their regards.”

“Things are going well for them?”

“They seem to be. Swede bought his grandfather's blacksmith shop and Becky's expecting again.”

Ox chuckled. “Somehow that doesn't surprise me. Those two will probably have a dozen babies before they're done. How's our god-daughter doing?”

“Talking a blue streak and into everything. Becky says she's a sore trial.”

“And they wouldn't trade her for all the gold in South Pass City.”

Angel smiled softly. “No.”

“Ah, those two could almost make a man believe in marriage.”

“Nothing could make me believe in marriage,” Angel said decisively.

“No. It’s not something I ever care to try again either.”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Again?”

A look of pain crossed his face. “It’s ancient history. It only lasted long enough to convince me a wife and children weren’t for me. Still, Swede and Becky do make you wonder if there isn’t something to it after all,” Ox said with a touch of wistfulness.

Angel shook her head. “I think marriages like theirs are few and far between. Most husbands and wives don't even like each other. Becky and Swede were friends long before they were lovers.”

“That's true enough. Maybe being friends first is the key.” He gave her a crooked grin. “What do you say, Angel? Shall we get married and see if we fall in love? Just think, we could roam the world together, seeing the sights, having one adventure after another.”

For a fleeting instant she was tempted to take him seriously. Then reality intruded. Even if Ox loved her as much as she loved him, she wouldn’t give up her hard-won independence. No man was worth that. “Sure, why not,” she said flippantly. “We might make it clear into next week before we drove each other crazy.”

“Probably, but it would sure be fun while it lasted. “ Ox's smile faded as he regarded his drink pensively. “Have you decided where you're going?” he asked after a moment.

“No. Sam and I have been sorta thinking of Denver or California somewhere. What about you?”

“I don't know yet either. There are a few things I have to take care of first.”

“Well, you can go just about anywhere you want. This country's wide open and everybody's going to need supplies hauled in.”

“Actually, I’m thinking of looking into a less strenuous profession. I’m getting kind of tired of the freight business. Sleeping under the stars in all kinds of weather and eating my own cooking is beginning to lose its appeal. It might even be time to settle down in one place.” He downed the last of his drink and gave her a heart-stopping grin as he set the glass on the desk. “Then again, maybe not. At any rate I'd better get moving. I have supplies for Ft. Stambaugh and Miner's Delight. I'm going to have to hurry to get them there before dark.”

“You’re not staying the night?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Nope. I’m on a pretty tight schedule. I probably shouldn’t have stayed this long.”

“I'll walk you to the door.” Angel picked up the letter. “I need to deliver this anyway.”

There was twinkle in Ox's eye as he rose to his feet and put on his hat. “I trust this Angelica will be easy to find.”

“I imagine I can track her down.”

“I'm sure you can.”

They walked though the casino wrapped in pleasant camaraderie, though each was aware of a deep feeling of melancholy. Angel stiffened her spine as Ox stopped to say good-bye to Sam. There was no way either of them was going to see her cry.

By the time Angel and Ox got to his wagon outside, she had herself well in hand. She was prepared for anything, or so she thought.

“Damn, I’m going to miss you!” Ox said, leaning down to give her kiss. The feel of his lips on hers took Angel so completely by surprise she didn't stop to think, she just responded. All her feelings for him rose in a tide, surrounding them in a bright velvet haze and rocking them both clear down to their toes. Ox put his arms around her and she sagged against him in total surrender. It was all she had ever dreamed of and more.

When it finally ended, Angel was breathless and bemused, but she came to earth with a jolt when she saw the utter astonishment in Ox's eyes. Oh no, what had she done?

“Good lord, Angel, that felt more like hello than good-bye,” he said.

Angel forced herself to give him a blank look. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn't you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

He stared down at her for a moment then shook his head. “My imagination must be playing tricks on me.” He gave her one more bewildered glance then climbed into his wagon, picked up the reins and took the whip out of its socket. “I guess this is good-bye then.”

“I hate good-byes.” She smiled as she reached up to take his hand in a farewell clasp. “I prefer Auf Wiedersehen. Until we meet again.”

“Auf Wiedersehen it is then.” He returned the pressure of her fingers then lifted his hand to her face. “Vaya con Dios, Angel,” he said softly, tracing the curve of her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. Then with a flick of his whip over the leader's heads he was gone.

“May God go with you, too,” Angel whispered, watching the wagon rumble down the street.

When he finally disappeared around a bend, Angel sighed and turned her attention to the letter in her hand. It didn't take long to read. As usual her sister's letter was filled with dramatic threats of eminent disaster and very little real information. They were twins but almost complete opposites in everything but looks. Still, Angel sensed an unusual urgency in the way Alexis begged her to come to Cheyenne fast as she could . That as much as the tear-stained pages convinced her.

“Sam,” she said as she walked decisively through the front door of the Green Garter, “do you think you can finish up here by yourself?”

“Sure thing, Miss Angel. Is there a problem?”

“No, I just discovered some out of town business I need to attend to. I'll be leaving early tomorrow morning.”

Angel spent the rest of the day putting her business affairs in order so she could turn the final details over to Sam. The sun had long since set by the time she wearily climbed the stairs to her room.

The events of the day crowded in on her as she began to remove the thick layer of make-up that she wore. As her flawless white skin emerged, her gray eyes seemed to take on a luminescent shine, and the years disappeared as if by magic. Angel made a face at herself in the mirror. Perhaps it was a good thing she was leaving. Usually she shed the persona of the cynical casino owner with the grease paint she used. But lately she'd had a harder and harder time finding herself when she finished. Going to Cheyenne was probably exactly what she needed. Whatever her sister's problem, it was sure to make Angel forget her own troubles.

She glanced through her sister's letter again and tried to concentrate on the sketchy information it gave her. It was useless; as a pair of green eyes kept intruding. After several minutes she dropped the letter on her dressing table and stared into the mirror again.

What would Ox think if he could see her like this? Would it change his perception of her or would he still look at her with indifference? No, not indifference. Friendship. How she hated the word! As she picked up her hair brush and pulled it through the fiery mass that caressed her shoulders, she thought of the kiss she'd shared with Ox. She touched her lips with two fingers. Her reaction had shocked her as much as it had him. No man had ever moved her that way before.

And Ox had felt the power of that kiss just as she had though his reaction had hardly been lover like. He couldn’t have been more astonished if one of his mules had suddenly started singing opera and dancing the minuet. It was obvious he saw her more as a crony than a potential sweetheart. Not that she found that particularly surprising. No man with a respectable background like Ox would even consider falling for the Madame of a whorehouse.

Angel shook her head. What difference did it make anyway? It wasn’t likely she'd ever see him again, which was just as well. The last thing she needed was a man who would take away her freedom, and control her life; a man like her father. Good riddance. Her life would be much less complicated without him under foot. Someday she'd be glad.

Her lip quivered slightly in the mirror. The tears that had threatened all day suddenly spilled over and ran down her cheeks. With a sob, Angel dropped her face to her folded arms and let them flow unchecked. Someday maybe, but for right now all she could think of was how much she was going to miss him.

CHAPTER 3

“Alexis, are you in there?” Angel pushed open the door and peered cautiously around the inside of the little cabin. The place looked as though it hadn't been disturbed for a while. For the dozenth time she wondered why her sister had insisted they meet here instead of the beautiful big home Duncan Smythe had built for his young wife. With a sigh, Angel walked inside and shut the door.

Angel had sent a message as soon as she arrived in town but, knowing Alexis, she probably wouldn't be out of bed yet. Then she'd need to get dressed and have Martha do her hair. It could be a very long wait. But she barely had time to remove her hat before she heard the sound of a carriage outside. Seconds later the door burst open and Alexis arrived in a swirl of taffeta and perfume.

“Oh, Angel, you came!” she cried, enveloping her sister in a hug.

Any irritation Angel felt disappeared as she returned her sister's embrace wholeheartedly. Being with Alexis was like rediscovering a part of herself. “Well, of course I did you goose. Did you think I wouldn't?”

“I was afraid you wouldn't get my letter way out there in the wilderness.”

“I’ve gotten every letter you ever sent. Besides, South Pass City isn't exactly the wilderness,” Angel said dryly. “Now that I'm here, why don't you tell me what's going on?”

“Oh, Angel, my life is over unless you help me.” Alexis released her sister and gave a dramatic sigh. “I've fallen in love.”

Angel blinked. “What?”

Alexis glared at her. “Why is that so unbelievable? Just because your heart is made out of stone doesn't mean mine is.”

“Oh, I believe you're in love all right. I just don't understand why it's a difficulty. You've been a widow for months now, and Duncan was almost seventy years old. Nobody will blame you for getting married before your full year of mourning is over.”

“That's not the problem.”

“Oh?” Angel raised an eyebrow. “Then what is?”

“Father!”

“Ah, I might have known. He doesn't approve of your swain does he?”

“He doesn't even know about Brandon.”

“Then I don't see...”

“Father has arranged for me to marry someone else.”

Angel closed her eyes. “Oh, dear, how bad is it?”

“I’m not sure, I've never met him. All I know is that he’s thirty years old, and graduated from Harvard with honors.”

“I’ll bet he’s rich too.”

“His grandfather is.”

“Then he’s probably insufferably arrogant and self-centered. Well, at least he isn’t as old as Duncan.”

“That’s not the point. Duncan was very kind to me.” Alexis took an agitated turn around the room. “Anyway, I don't care what James Treenery is like. I don't want to marry him!”

“Not if he’s Father's choice, you don’t. Still, I don't see where I come into all this.”

“I want you to convince Father that this match will never do.”

“You want me to what?” Angel laughed. “My dearest sister, I think love has muddled your brain. In case you’ve forgotten, I haven't spoken to Father in almost ten years, not to mention the fact that he disowned me and pretends I never existed.”

“I know. And that's precisely the reason it will work.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wasn't positive until I saw you but...oh come here I'll show you.” Alexis took off her hat then led Angel over to the mirror on the wall. “What do you see?”

Angel peered into the dirty glass. “About four pounds of dust and the life’s work of a very diligent spider.”

No, not that,” Alexis said in disgust, as she wiped away the worst of the grime with her lace handkerchief. “Now what do you see?”

You mean besides the ruined handkerchief you're going to have a hard time explaining to Martha?”

Alexis’ answer was a glare. Angel obediently removed the grin from her face and turned back to the looking glass. “I see two women staring at themselves in the mirror.”

“Right and we're as alike as ever,” Alexis said with satisfaction.

“I think you have a tad more hair, though it’s pretty hard to tell with it pulled back that way,” Angel said with a grin. “And you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing this particular shade of blue or such a scandalous dress.”

“But besides all that we still look exactly alike.”

“We are identical twins you know.”

“That's right. If we dress alike no one can tell us apart.”

Angel turned to look at her sister with dawning comprehension. “Oh, no. You want me to pretend to be you?”

“Exactly.”

“Forget it. I'm not going to travel all the way to New York to see father, not even for you.”

“You don't have to. He's here in Cheyenne. They came when Duncan died and have been with me ever since.”

“He’s here and you didn’t tell me?”

“I knew you wouldn’t come.”

“I suppose Vanessa is here too.”

Alexis nodded. “And the children. Father even brought a tutor along for them.”

“If that isn’t just like him. Not only does he come in and take over your home before your husband is cold in his grave, he expects you to feed and house his servants as well.”

“Shannon and Jared took care of that for me. They convinced the tutor to leave right away.” Alexis grinned. “In fact, they’ve managed to drive off three since they’ve been here. Father finally said they could spend the rest of the term studying by themselves. I think he’s sorry he brought them along.”

“He’s not one to stay calm when things don’t go his way. I’ll bet he had a fit when they read Duncan’s will and found out he couldn’t touch a penny of your money.”

A brief smile crossed Alexis’ face. “I didn't know a person could turn that color of purple. He didn't realize a woman could own her own property in Wyoming Territory.” Her smile faded and the earnest expression returned. “All you have to do is meet James Treenery, decide you dislike him the way you did Duncan and refuse to marry him. I'll bet you could even convince Mr. Treenery he doesn't want to marry me if you put your mind to it.”

Angel rolled her eyes. “Why don't you just tell Father you're in love with someone else?”

“Father won't care. He'll force me to marry James Treenery no matter what I say.”

“Come on, Alexis, Duncan left you a very rich widow. Father no longer has a hold on you.”

“Maybe not, but I can't stand up to him like you can. He'll yell at me, then he'll threaten all kinds of awful things, and I'll crumble.”

“I don't see why you give in to him. You don't even have an allowance he can cut off.”

“Thanks to you. If you hadn't convinced Duncan I should have control of my own money, Father would have that too.”

“Father isn't nearly as powerful as you think he is.”

“Not to you, but Vanessa says that's because the two of you are so much alike.”

Angel frowned. “There's no need to insult me.”

“I wasn't. In fact, I've always envied your strength, Angel. You won't give in no matter what pressure Father puts on you.” She smiled brightly. “And if you make him mad enough maybe he'll disown me too.”

“That's crazy. You'd hate being cut off from the family, and it’s only when he’s trying to run your life that you dislike Father. Besides, we may look alike, but we're as different as sugar and salt. I'd never be able to pull off actually being you.”

“Yes, you can. We did it all the time when we were children.”

“That was years ago, and we didn't do it for more than a few hours. We'd never fool Martha and Vanessa.”

“Martha will be on our side. That's the thing about servants that have been with the family forever. As for Vanessa, she'll never know the difference.”

Privately, Angel had to agree. Their stepmother was far from perceptive. “I don't know any of the people you do. If I went out in public I'd be sure to give myself away.”

“I haven’t been in Cheyenne long enough to have any friends. Duncan and I spent most of that last year in Europe. About the only people I know are the wives of Duncan’s business partners at the bank, and they barely speak to me. Anyway, we have two weeks for me to teach you everything you need to know.”

Angel frowned. “Two weeks?”

“Father is giving a party welcoming James Treenery to Cheyenne. That's when we're supposed to meet. It shouldn't take you more than a week to convince him the match will never do, and you can work on Father at the same time.”

“Forget it, Alexis. It's a crazy idea, and I'm not doing it.”

“Angel, you have to help me!”

“You haven't thought this through. If we got caught, you'd be worse off than you are now.”

“I couldn't be,” Alexis said, her lip quivering. “If you turn your back on me, it will happen exactly like it did eight years ago. I'll wind up marrying James Treenery the same way I did Duncan, and I'll never have a chance at happiness.”

Guilt washed over Angel. Though her sister never mentioned it, they both knew it was Angel's fault Alexis had been forced to marry Duncan Smythe. If she lived to be a hundred, Angel would never forget her rage when she discovered her father had accepted Duncan Smythe's offer for her hand. To Richard Brady, Smythe's fortune and consequential connections were important. The fact that he was over sixty was not.

The wedding plans progressed rapidly in spite of Angel’s efforts to stop them. Finally, in desperation, she decided to run away to start another life somewhere else. Alexis insisted she take the only thing of value the twins owned, their mother's jewelry. So, with many tears and the first pangs of soul-deep loneliness, the twins parted for the first time in their lives.

It was nearly three months before Angel was able to make contact with her sister again. In the meantime Richard Brady had offered Alexis to Duncan Smythe and he’d been just as smitten with her as he had been Angel. Alexis had become Mrs. Duncan Smythe in less than a month. Angel had never forgiven herself, not even after she and Duncan became friends, and he admitted he was far happier with Alexis.

It all played through Angel's mind now. This was Alexis, her sister, her best friend, the kindest, sweetest person she'd ever known. Alexis who had never let her down, who was everything she was not, her other half.

“Oh, Alex,” Angel said, putting her arms around the other woman comfortingly. “If it means that much to you, of course I'll do it.”

“You will?” Alexis cried joyfully. “I knew I could count on you. You're the best sister anybody could have.”

“I hope you still feel that way when this is all over. I have a feeling we'll probably both live to regret it. Our chances for success are pretty slim if you ask me.” She released her sister and looked around the cabin distastefully. “Well, I guess if I'm going to stay here until I meet this beau of yours, we'd better get this place cleaned up. Why don't you send your driver after Martha while you and I get started?”

Alexis grinned. “Martha's waiting in the carriage.”

“I should have guessed. Was she going to convince me if you failed?”

“No, she said I'd have to do that myself.

Angle raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then she doesn't approve of this little escapade either?”

“Not entirely, but she did say she'd help us if you agreed. I don't think she believed you would.”

“Thank heavens for Martha,” Angel murmured as Alexis hurried out to get her maid. “Maybe between the two of us we can keep this from getting completely out of hand.”

“I can't believe you actually agreed to this plan.” Martha grumbled when she walked through the door. “Always figured you for the one with sense.”

Angel smiled. “Since you're here, it looks like she talked you into it too.”

“Humph! I'm just a servant. I do what I'm told.”

Angel and Alexis exchanged a grin and a wink behind Martha’s back as she looked around the room in disgust.

“Well, what are you two waiting for?” Martha asked, draping her shawl over the back of a chair and rolling up her sleeves. “This place is a pigsty.”

#

There was much for Angel to learn in the next week and a half, from memorizing distinguishing features of all the people she might meet, to mastering the latest gossip so she could converse knowledgeably with her stepmother. Angel completely immersed herself in her sister’s life. It was more a matter of shedding her South Pass persona than learning anything new. Alexis’ mannerisms soon became her own again, and she began walking with small feminine steps instead of her usual direct stride. Angel even switched perfume, changing from her favorite rose water to her sister’s lavender.

Physically there was little to change. In spite of their dissimilar lifestyles, the twin’s figures were still exactly the same. In fact about the only difference was their hair. Since Alexis’ was longer, they decided to cut both to match. They left the actual haircuts until the day before the switch. That way Alexis’ hairstyle would still be so new to everyone that they would attribute any difference they noticed to the haircut.

“What do you think?” Alexis asked after Martha finished cutting the waist-length red hair. She turned her head this way and that, studying her image in the mirror.

Angel walked around her sister surveying it critically. “I like it. What about you, Martha?”

“I think it's about the best I can do without whacking off more hair than Alexis is willing to part with. Sit.”

Angel obediently took the chair next to her sister, and started to remove the pins from her coiffure.

“Uh oh,” Martha said. “It's a different color than Alexis’.”

“No, it isn't.” Angel closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair to shake it free. “It's just a tint I put on to make the color look artificial. You’ll cut off most of it.” When she opened her eyes both Martha and Alexis were staring at her with identical stunned expressions.

“Why do you want people to think you dye your hair?” Alexis asked in a strangled voice.

“It all part of the image I wanted the people of South Pass to see. I wear heavy make-up too.”

“But surely they can tell it isn't real.”

“Of course they can, but they assume I do both to look younger. If anyone even suspected my true age, I'd have a very difficult time running my business. Men don't have much respect for a young woman.”

“Oh, my poor Angel,” Alexis said, reaching out to touch her arm. “I never really thought how dangerous it is for you there.” She shuddered. “I hate to think of the things you see every day.”

Angel shrugged but the disgust in her sister's voice hurt. Suddenly her life seemed shameful and depraved.

“You have no call to look down your nose at Angel,” Martha said, picking up a comb and her scissors. “Your sister is a successful business woman, plain and simple. She makes a good living and doesn't hurt a soul in the process.”

Alexis was instantly remorseful. “I didn't mean it that way. I just worry that something will happen.”

“I can take care of myself,” Angel said with a brittle smile. “And my bartender makes a pretty good bodyguard.”

“Oh, Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I could never have supported myself the way you have. It's just that I worry about you and I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. Besides, I sold the business.”

Alexis shook her head. “Some day you'll want to get married and have children. I don't see how you're ever going to find a decent husband among all those terrible men.”

“A husband is about the last thing I want. I left home to get away from one man's domination,” Angel said dryly. “There is no way I'm going to subject myself to another's.” But even as she spoke the words the image of a man who was both good and decent popped into her mind. Once again she could feel his lips whisper across hers in a kiss that rocked her soul. What would marriage to Ox be like? Angel savored the picture for a moment then pushed it away in irritation. She needed a husband about as much as she needed a wooden leg.

CHAPTER 4

“Well, James, it's about time you put in an appearance,” James Oxford Bruton Treenery said with good humor. He stood behind his desk near the window, one hand grasping the lapel of his coat, every inch the influential business tycoon.

James Treenery III scowled at his grandfather, unimpressed by the older man. “I had a few things to take care of first.”

“Ah, yes that little hobby of yours. Really, James, you’re wasting your time there.”

“It's a business, not a hobby, and my name isn't James.”

The elder James Treenery's face darkened for a moment, then he shrugged. “All right, then, Jamie. I'll be damned if I’ll call you by that other heathenish name.”

“Suit yourself.” The younger man sat down on a chair and put his feet up on the polished surface of the desk. “I'm a busy man, and I don't think you brought me here to discuss my name. Why don't you get to the point?”

Only the tightening of the muscles in his jaw gave any indication James Treenery was having trouble keeping his temper. “It's time you stopped playing at being a common man and took your place in my empire.”

“If you summoned me here to sing that song, old man, you've wasted your time,” Jamie said, picking his teeth just to annoy his grandfather.

“Actually, I have a proposition for you.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“All in good time.” His grandfather visibly relaxed as the sound of footsteps came from the hallway. “Right now, I think there's someone here to see you.” He smiled complacently.

“Jamie!”

Jamie straightened in surprise as the door burst open. “Mother?” He surged to his feet.

“Oh, Jamie, you're finally here!” The tiny woman threw herself into his arms. “When Papa Treenery said you were coming I just had to brave the trip out from Chicago.”

“He talked you into coming here?” Jamie glared over her head at his grandfather.

“Of course not, my dear. In fact he tried to talk me out of it. He said Cheyenne wasn't the place for a delicately nurtured female.”

“He's right. This place isn't fit for anyone but hoodlums and riff raff.”

“Now, Jamie, you know that isn't true. You opened your new stage line here after all.”

“He told you I opened new stage line?” The look Jamie gave his grandfather was positively murderous.

Sarah Beth Treenery patted her son's arm. “Don't blame Papa Treenery. He wasn't going to tell me at all until I wheedled it out of him. I had a terrible time getting him to talk.”

“I'll bet,” Jamie said dryly.

His grandfather shrugged. “You know how your mother is. She just wouldn't rest until I explained why you decided to give her a whole new wardrobe.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows. “You hadn't planned on telling her I'm sure. My generosity quite overwhelmed you.”

“It did indeed. You're a very dutiful son.” The elder Treenery reminded Jamie of a snake who knew its victim was completely helpless in its coils and was fully enjoying the death struggles.

“You really shouldn't spend your money on me that way,” Sarah Beth said.

For the first time Jamie's smile was genuine as he gave his mother a tender look. “There's no one in the world I'd rather spend my money on.”

“That's only because you don't have a family. When you get married again and have children to spoil, you’ll feel differently.”

“I’d feel different all right,” Jamie said with an amused smile. “A wife and a gaggle of children would send me running for the high country. I’d build myself a cabin in the wilderness and only come out once a year for supplies.”

She smiled up at him. “You just haven’t met the right woman yet.”

“The right woman doesn’t exist.”

“Nonsense.” She gave him a hug. “At any rate, I think you should reconsider buying me my own house in Chicago. It was very generous of you to offer my dear, but I'm perfectly happy at your grandfather's.”

“Ah...well perhaps we'd better leave the discussion of that for another time.” Jamie felt his grandfather's coils tighten about him as his mother gazed up at him worshipfully.

“Oh, dear I wasn't supposed to know yet was I? No matter, I'll forget I ever heard anything.” She gave Jamie another hug. “I'm sure you and your grandfather have a great deal of business to discuss so I'll leave you to it. Will you be joining us for dinner before the ball?”

James took Sarah Beth's arm and escorted her to the door. “Of course he'll be dining with us. And you two will have plenty of time to visit before that. I won't keep him long.”

“Thank you, Papa Treenery. You're so good to me.”

Jamie crossed his arms and regarded the older man sardonically as the door closed behind his mother. “You enjoyed that didn't you?”

“It's always a delight to see a son so concerned with his mother's happiness. Oh, did I mention you've given her quite a substantial increase in her quarterly allowance too?”

“All right, you wily old bastard, what is it you want from me?”

“Why, what I've always wanted. My only grandson shoulder to shoulder with me at the head of a thriving company.”

“The new stage line my mother mentioned, no doubt.”

“The Flying T to be precise. Not only do we have the government mail contract, our line is the only public transportation from the railroad here in Cheyenne north to the mines in Silver Springs Gulch and beyond. It's a guaranteed moneymaker. We've been in business less than six months and already we've made back most of our original investment.”

The elder Treenery's eyes took on a familiar gleam as he began to talk about profit. Jamie could barely contain his disgust. He'd never seen his grandfather show that much emotion for any person living or dead. “It doesn't sound like you need me.”

“On the contrary, you are exactly the person I need. I can't stay here to run it; I have far too many other investments to look after. You have plenty of experience, though admittedly it is with freight rather than passengers. You know what sort of drivers to hire, the kind of stock to buy, what supplies would be needed...In short you could walk in and run the whole operation tomorrow.”

“Any number of people have that same kind of experience.”

“True, but we need someone with...special qualifications.”

“We?”

“ I have a partner, Richard Brady. He’s a man after my own heart”

Jamie's mouth twisted . “He's crooked then?”

“In fact,” his grandfather said, ignoring Jamie's remark, “he has the same problem I do. He can't devote as much time as necessary to the business either.”

“And he's willing to let me handle it?”

“Not exactly, and to be honest,. I wouldn’t I consider handing it over to his heir either.”

“Then what precisely is it you want me to do?”

“It's quite simple really, we decided if two of the younger members of our families formed a partnership, we could confidently leave the running of the stage line to the both of you.”

Jamie was incredulous. “You expect me to go into business with a man I've never met?”

“No, we had a somewhat different partnership in mind.”

“From the tone of your voice I can tell I'm not going to like this. I suppose the son is just like the father?”

James Treenery Sr. took a cigar out of the humidor on his desk and calmly bit the end off of it. “Actually it isn't his son we were proposing you go into partnership with. It's his daughter, Alexis.”

“His daughter...” Suddenly, Jamie understood exactly what his grandfather wanted and white hot anger exploded in his chest. “Marriage? Christ, I thought Deanne would have been enough to convince you I'm not husband material,” he said tightly.

“Deanne died in a carriage accident,” James reminded him. “There was nothing wrong with your marriage.”

“You’d naturally think that since you arranged it.”

“At any rate, that's ancient history and has no bearing on this.”

Jamie thought he might choke on his anger. “It does to me, old man. I'll be damned if I'll marry again just to make you happy.”

“My happiness isn’t involved,” his grandfather said. “It's your mother I'm thinking of.”

“I can take care of my mother without your help,” Jamie snapped.

“Perhaps, but she'd have to give up all those luxuries she's come to expect, not the mention the house you promised to buy. It means a lot to her, you know. She hasn't had a place of her own since your father died.” The elder Treenery lit his cigar. “I know how much you sold your little business for. It wouldn't even pay her allowance for a year.”

“And you'd cut her off just like that.”

His grandfather shrugged. “You forget, she's only my son's widow...no kin of mine. Besides, I wouldn't have to. All I'd need to do is tell her the truth, and she'd refuse to take another penny of my money. I'd do my best to convince her to stay, of course and she'd leave thinking I was the most generous man alive.” He puffed on his cigar then watched the smoke drift toward the ceiling. “Personally, I feel sorry for the poor woman. Her son has lied to her almost constantly for the last ten years.”

“That's blackmail!”

“I prefer to think of it as hedging my bet.”

“You can't force me to marry Brady's daughter.”

“The wedding need not be right away. She's still in mourning for her husband, though I doubt she'll be wearing black for much longer.”

“A widow? Oh, Christ this gets better and better. Is she old or just ugly?”

“Her name is Alexis Smythe,” James went on as though his grandson hadn't spoken. “You'll meet her at a party her father is giving tonight in your honor.”

“You're going to look pretty stupid when the guest of honor doesn't show up,” Jamie snarled as he strode to the door.

“Your mother is renting a small house near the Grand Hotel,” his grandfather called.

“Good, I’ll stay there too,” Jamie said, and slammed the door behind him. He certainly wasn’t going to stay at the same hotel as his grandfather.

“Damn it to hell,” Jamie muttered, stalking down the hall. His grandfather had him over a barrel and they both knew it. A year from now he could have laughed in the old bastard’s face. By then he'd have enough money in the trust he'd set up for his mother. It would support her in style and was beyond his grandfather's reach.

One year, damn it. That's all he needed. Jamie didn't doubt for a moment that his grandfather would carry out his threats. The man didn't have a bit of interest in anybody or anything except money. There had to be some way to outsmart the old coot.

And then he knew. All he had to do was convince his future bride she wanted no part of him. By the time he reached the street, Jamie was grinning. His years in the freight business had given him a repertoire of obnoxious habits that were guaranteed to send any delicately nurtured female running for cover. When he was done with Alexis Brady Smythe she'd refuse to marry him if he were the last man on earth.

#

“There,” Martha said patting Angel's last curl into place, “you could fool the devil himself.”

“Good,” Angel smiled at her in the mirror. “Because I'm having dinner with him.”

“That's no way to talk about your father.”

Angel chuckled. “How do you know I didn't mean James Treenery.”

“Humph. What I do know is you'd better stop this tom-foolery if you want everyone to believe you're Alexis.”

“Don't worry, Martha, I'm doing things her way. If it had been left up to me, I wouldn't have worn this dress.” She ran her hand over her green satin skirt. “I'd have dressed in her plainest black and gone down to supper too late for Father to do anything about it.”

“Yes, and you'd have given yourself away immediately. Your sister would never openly defy...” A knock at the door stopped her in mid-sentence.

“Here we go,” Angel whispered and gave Martha a conspiratorial wink before answering. “Who is it?”

“It's just me dear.” The door opened and a tall willowy blond woman swept in. “Are you about ready?” she asked in her clipped British accent.

“Hello, Vanessa,” Angel greeted her stepmother and turned back to the mirror with a worried frown. “Do you really think it's proper for me to be wearing this? I'm not out of mourning yet.”

“Please don't be difficult, Alexis. You know what your father said.”

“Yes, I know he wants me to make a good impression. Oh, Vanessa, the last thing I want to do is impress James Treenery.”

“You don't even know him. He may be very nice. His mother certainly was when we met her the other day.”

“But it's not Sarah Beth Treenery Father wants me to marry.”

“No, of course not. Why ever would you think that?” Vanessa looked vaguely confused.

Angel resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she rose from her seat at the dressing table and crossed the room to her stepmother. “Never mind. Unless my ears deceive me our guests have arrived.”

Vanessa listened for a moment then nodded. “That does sound like a carriage pulling up in front. We'd better go.” She hesitated a moment then touched Angel's hand. “Alexis, I know you don't want this, but you may find you like him very much.”

“It won't matter if I hate him, Father wants this marriage and nothing will change his mind.”

Vanessa looked troubled. “Your father loves you. He wouldn't want you to be unhappy.” Her jaw hardened suddenly making her look almost fierce. “If you find Mr. Treenery's grandson intolerable, I promise you I will speak to your father for you.”

Much good that would do, Angel thought. Still she couldn't help but be touched; the image of her step-mother standing up to Richard Brady was laughable. Impulsively Angel put her arms around Vanessa and kissed her cheek. “Have I ever told you how glad I am you married my father?”

Vanessa blinked in surprise then smiled. “Why, thank you. I've always thought I was very lucky to have you and Angelica.”

It was Angel's turn to be startled. “Both of us?”

“Well, of course. You know how I feel about Angelica. If only she and your father weren't so much alike. I swear I could just shake the two of them.”

“I think you just did,” Angel heard Martha mutter behind them. She smiled as she thought of the severe lecture Martha had delivered less than an hour ago on letting her unruly tongue give them away. Angel wasn't the only one who was going to have to be careful.

“I guess we'd better go. Our guests are waiting,” Angel said.

She felt a sudden surge of nervous anticipation at seeing her father again after all these years. Richard Brady was standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them. He was still a handsome man, though the gleaming black hair was shot with silver and he appeared to have put on a few pounds. Angel felt an unexpected wave of affection as he smiled up at them. For the first time in years she remembered how much she loved him when she was a child. It wasn’t until she grew up and he began trying to control her adult life that she’d turned her back on him.

“I'm sorry we're late, Richard” Vanessa said, a trifle breathlessly when they arrived at the bottom.

He kissed her forehead. “It's quite all right. You two lovely ladies were worth waiting for.” His gaze swept Angel from head to foot. “I'm glad to see you decided to wear the green dress after all. You look quite stunning. I'm sure James will be impressed.”

Richard Brady missed Angel's glare as he turned to a nearby servant and gave directions for dinner to be served in fifteen minutes. How dare he order Alexis’ servant around as though it were his house? Her earlier affection was replaced by righteous burning anger. Richard Brady thought of his daughters as poker chips to be used on the bargaining table, nothing more.

Unaware of Angel's displeasure, he took an arm of each woman and led them forward to meet the Treenerys who were just entering the front door.

Angel was less than gracious, but no one noticed as James Treenery gave a rather vague excuse as to why his grandson had been delayed. Rather than being insulted, Angel was grateful. Dinner with her father was going to be difficult enough .

To her relief, Vanessa had seated her as far away from her father as possible. Instead she was surrounded by Treenerys, with Sarah Beth on her left and James on her right. She liked Alexis’ prospective mother-in-law immediately. The older woman even seemed vaguely familiar though Angel couldn't figure out why. The elder James Treenery was another matter. Though he was not unattractive and was unfailingly polite, there was something about him that made her skin crawl. He reminded her of an eel, slippery and viscous. If his grandson were like him, Angel would move heaven and earth to keep him away from her sister.

At last, the interminable meal was over, and they moved back to the entrance to welcome the ball guests. Duncan Smythe had spared no expense when he built his home. Although Cheyenne was a raw frontier town, he'd insisted on a ballroom, certain there would eventually be some sort of society here. And what society there was came in droves. Angel experienced a moment of sheer panic when it became obvious they were going to have a formal reception line. As the hostess, it would be her job to introduce all the guests to the Treenerys. A moment later she was relieved to discover Richard Brady intended to usurp her position once more. There was no resentment at all as she stepped aside and let Vanessa take Alexis’ rightful place.

Richard and Vanessa Brady welcomed everyone graciously, but Angel could tell James Treenery was far from impressed by the guests. She added snobbery to the long list of things she didn't like about him. His grandson was probably worse; third generation money usually was.

The guest of honor still hadn't put in an appearance when it was time for the ball to begin, so Richard Brady did the honors with his daughter. The close proximity to her father made Angel nervous, but he didn't appear to notice anything unusual.

Angel never lacked for partners and she found herself thoroughly enjoying herself, for she had always loved to dance. As midnight approached, and the younger James Treenery hadn’t appeared, she began to hope he wouldn't. Not even Richard Brady could blame her for refusing to marry a man who had insulted her so. She was drinking a glass of champagne and chatting with a handsome young man when Vanessa suddenly appeared at her elbow.

“Mr. Treenery's grandson finally came. Your father's bringing him over right now,” Vanessa whispered. “Oh, Mr. Treenery. We're so glad you could make it,” she said a second later in her breathless voice.

This was it, the moment Angel had been waiting for all evening. So much depended on his first unfavorable impression of her. Angel took a deep breath and fixed a bored look on her face. With deliberate nonchalance, she turned and found herself staring right into the startled green eyes of Ox Bruford.

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