Of Men And Angels

Jake didn’t understand men who treated women as if they were merely useful, like an extra right arm or a hot-water bottle for their beds. He knew from experience that something wondrous happened when the right man and the right woman got naked together.

He had been nineteen years old and not fully grown when a widow hired him to work her ranch for the summer. By July his muscles were hard and he was sharing her bed. She was close to thirty, but he would have married her if she hadn’t sent him away.

Leaving her cut him to the bone. The widow liked having him in her bed, but she didn’t want him in her life. A few months later, she’d pushed him away like a bum calf, and he remembered the taste of snow as he rode away.

And then there was Lettie Abbott. He’d broken all of the rules when he’d taken her to bed.

“You’ve got to pay for it or marry it,” his brother Gabe used to say, but Jake had done neither with Lettie. It had been nothing more than meeting a man’s need. Not once had he imagined she would conceive a child.

With spots drifting like flies in his field of vision, Jake had to admit there was more than one way to ruin a woman’s life. He had nothing on Thomas Hunnicutt when it came to using a woman. He had spent one night with Lettie for the pleasure of it. It wasn’t even worth remembering, except for the baby she’d conceived.

With the angel pressed against his thighs, the memory of Lettie’s pregnant belly tweaked what was left of his conscience. Never mind that she had invited herself into his bed. He had taken less than she had to give, and Jake knew in his gut how it felt to be treated as less than the person he wanted to be. Gabe did it to him all the time.

You worthless piece of trash. What makes you think you belong in school? You’ll never get it right, little brother. Smart kids read books. Dumb ones shovel shit.”

For a while, he had read them anyway.

Ma would die if she saw you puking like that….

Yeah, but Ma was already dead.

Rolling his hips in the saddle, Jake shifted to give the angel more space. He knew how to skulk through life. He was hardened to his own misery, but what would happen to her if her husband made her feel worthless and weak?

His stomach clenched around its own emptiness. Alex deserved all the joy life could bring. Pure goodness radiated from her bones as she cuddled the baby. Warmth rolled off her back, and Jake couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arm around her waist.

She stiffened, but he didn’t loosen his hold until she relaxed and leaned against his chest. His mind took off for places it had no business going, and his eyes followed suit. He gazed at the curve of her neck where her blouse gaped, and he could see a line where her white skin ended and a fiery sunburn began. She was on the verge of blistering, so he tugged her blouse higher on her neck. She tensed beneath his fingertips. “What are you doing?”

“You’re starting to look like a tomato.”

His fingers brushed her skin, not by accident, and she sat straighter, as if her backbone had grown back.

“I’ll be glad to get home,” she said.

“Must be nice to have a home to go to.”

Her voice softened. “Where are you from?”

“Nowhere in particular.”

“You must be coming from somewhere,” she probed. “What do you do?”

It was the kind of thing a woman would ask at a dinner party. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

He grumbled at her. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to ask questions?”

She didn’t answer, and he felt bad for scolding her. The woman made him prickly all over, and he gave in to a strange wave of pity. “I pretty much go where I want.”

“Where were you headed when you found us?”

“California,” he replied.

“Do you have family there?”

She was like a child rummaging through a box of puzzle pieces, looking for ones that fit, excited at the prospect of a pretty picture. Irritation leaked into his voice. “What I do isn’t anyone’s business but mine.”

“Maybe not, but Charlie and I are alive because you stopped. I won’t forget what I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything except an apology.” Her cheeks flushed, and it charmed him enough to be kind. “It’s not smart to kiss a man and then knock him on his butt.”

“I guess I had a sudden urge to kick death in the teeth, or something like that,” she said with dignity. “I am sorry, though. I behaved badly.”

“No offense taken.”

Alex turned in the saddle and looked at him with those rich brown eyes and sunburned face. With a sweet smile, she said, “You’re a good man.”

He wasn’t anywhere close to being good. His eyes drifted to her pink lips. Lightning shot to his groin and ricocheted to his chest. Pure lust would have been easy to put in its place, but Jake knew his reaction wasn’t that simple. Yes, he wanted to show Alex a thing or two about kissing a man, but he also wanted to keep her safe, to be someone she would want to know.

But he was on the run. He had no business lusting after an angel, even if he had kissed her and seen need in her eyes, curiosity, and the hunger that comes with a child’s first taste of sugar. Even if she asked him for more, he had nothing to give except a glimpse of pleasure, and that wouldn’t be enough. She deserved more from life, and so did the baby in her arms.

His jaw tightened as he thought back to Lettie and the baby she was carrying. He didn’t love her, not even a little bit, and the child would be better off without having a son of a bitch like himself for a father.

Charlie was propped on Alex’s shoulder. Patting his back, she crooned a vaguely familiar melody, and with a dim ache behind his eyes, Jake recognized the hymn she had been singing when he found her. The baby’s face was red, and his wispy hair, the same dark brown as Jake’s, was damp and matted. His eyes were blue slits, glassy with tears, and needy enough to make a grown man cry.

It was more than Jake could stand. He would take Alex to her family in Grand Junction, then he’d find a saloon, order a bottle of whiskey and drink himself senseless. He had plenty of money. He could drink all night if he wanted, and maybe even find a woman to share the pleasure.

The miles passed quickly once he had a plan. The trail dipped through a canyon full of sage and scraggly junipers until the ravine widened into a thrusting desert plain. Grand Junction rose in the distance, and Alex stretched to see the rows of buildings.

Charlie let out another wail, and Jake sighed. He could already feel the whiskey tickling his throat.

“We’re here!”

Her joy flowed through him. He really had saved her life, and he wondered if saving an angel made up for the rest of the misery he’d caused through the years. He even let himself wonder what Gabe would have said about his little brother riding into town with a woman and a baby.

With the thought of Gabe, his good mood soured like old milk. His brother would have told him he was a fool. He would have called him a drunk and a cheat and told him to keep his dirty hands off of Miss Merritt’s slender waist, to mind his manners, brush his teeth and get a job.

Jake was scowling when they reached the middle of town where Waltham’s Emporium was doing a brisk business. A large man with silver hair walked down the steps toward a loaded buckboard.

“Papa! Papa!” Alex cried.

She squirmed like a kid at Christmas, and the old man froze in his tracks. Jake saw shock in his eyes, then a blossom of pure joy. He half expected the man to break into a run, but he couldn’t seem to get his legs to work any faster.

The bay chuffed, and Jake reined him in at a hitching post. Sliding out of the saddle, he reached for Alex. She shoved Charlie into his arms and slid off the bay. Half staggering with her arms spread wide, she ran to the silver giant of a man.

“Oh, Papa! You won’t believe what happened.”

The old man hugged his daughter like there was no tomorrow, and Jake stood by the horse with Charlie squalling in his arms.

He needed that drink worse than ever.

Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.

William Merritt was a man of great emotion on even a quiet day, and having his daughter home at last was enough to make him shout with joy. It had been five years since he had seen her and more than ten since she had lived at home. It had been her mother’s idea to send Alex to live with her aunt in Philadelphia. William had fought the idea, but Kath insisted on giving their daughter a taste a taste of Eastern sophistication, including the opportunity to meet educated young men and wear stylish dresses. As always, Kath had stood her ground, and he’d given in.

And so he and his daughter had written letters, and because of the strange intimacy of paper and pen, William knew his daughter better than she knew herself. He had an uncanny ability to read between the lines, and for the past six months, he’d been worried about her engagement to Thomas Hunnicutt.

But those worries could wait. He squeezed her shoulders and something between a laugh and a roar ripped from his throat. She leaned back, her hands still in his, and he saw a thousand questions in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just slowing down a little.”

But the dark circles under his eyes went beyond a man feeling his years, and if the truth be told, the pounding of his heart at the shock of seeing her scared him just a little.

More time…more time…more time…

Dear God, he’d be grateful for every minute.

“Papa, I’ve got so much to tell you.” She stepped back and William took a long look at her. Her face was red and near blistering. Baggy trousers hung from her hips, and a sleeve had been torn from her white blouse. Dried blood caked the bandage on her arm.

He grabbed her shoulders. “My God! What happened?”

“The stage crashed in a thunderstorm. There’s a lot to tell, but there are two people you have to meet first.”

William’s gaze roved to the man holding the baby. With his black eyes and black duster, he seemed more like a shadow than flesh and bone. Hard living, and only God knew what else, had etched deep lines in the young man’s face, and he had a thirsty look in his eyes.

William knew the craving when he saw it, and he felt a stab of sympathy for the young man. With his stubbled jaw and bruised face, he looked like a rounder, but the baby turned him into something else. He looked like a father, too, and William dared to hope his daughter had found a diamond in the rough.

The cowboy stepped toward Alex and she reached for the baby. Holding the infant against her breast, she nodded at the stranger.

“Papa, this is Jackson Jacob Malone. He saved my life. Twice.” Smiling, she held up the baby. “And this is Charlie.”

“Who does he belong to?”

“No one right now.”

William felt a twinge of disappointment that the cowboy wasn’t the baby’s father, and he cringed when he saw a light in his daughter’s eyes that reminded him of his wife as a younger woman.

I want another baby, Will.

Any man who had fathered a child by choice knew that look, and most of the time a woman got her way. Peeling back the white cloth shielding the baby’s head, he peered into his tiny face. “He looks brand-new.”

“He is. His mother died giving birth.”

“And his father?”

Alex shook her head. “She never said.”

William watched as the cowboy took off his hat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. The man was ready to hightail it out of town, but someone had hammered good manners into him, and he didn’t even twitch while he waited for Alex to finish talking.

He had the air of a perfect gentleman, but William saw through him. He was polite because it had been beaten into him, and beneath his hooded gaze, William saw a man who cussed God and took comfort where he could find it.

He had known countless men like Jackson Jacob Malone over the years. He’d prayed with them and even buried a few of them when things went bad. He knew these men in his bone marrow because he had been one himself. Kindness would only make a man like Malone run, so William got tough and mean.

“This kid looks just like you, son. What lies are you telling?”

Anger rose from his black duster like smoke. “Let’s see, old man. The last woman I bedded was a whore in Glenville, and that was a lot more recent than nine months ago when Charlie here got started. Let me think….” Jake rolled his eyes skyward and twisted his lips into an insolent grin.

William saw right through the ploy. The young man wanted to shock him.

“As I recall,” Jake continued, “a sweet young thing spread her legs for me about then, but she was a blonde with big tits and the woman I just buried—”

“Stop it!” Alex glared at them both, then zeroed in on Jake. “How dare you speak like that about someone you—”

“Bedded?”

“I can ignore the language, but not the disrespect.”

William wasn’t surprised when his daughter turned on him next. “Papa, that question was out of line. You have no right to question Jake’s integrity.”

So it was already Jake and not Mr. Malone.

The young man didn’t say a word, and William, who never kept his mouth closed and only rarely regretted opening it, wasn’t at all sorry for riling him. He believed that “fight” and “flight” were God-given instincts, and Jake Malone was a fighter.

“My daughter’s right, Mr. Malone. I have a rude streak a mile wide. I owe you far more than gratitude for saving her life. She’s a treasure.” He stuck out his hand and waited for the man to take it.

William guessed he still wanted to get drunk and throw a few punches, but at the mention of Alex, Jake Malone’s eyes shimmered with a tender light. He took William’s hand with a firm grasp.

“The privilege was mine, sir.”

Alex smiled up at the cowboy, and William saw the precise moment when the fight in Jake Malone turned to flight. His eyes lingered a moment too long on her face. His mouth softened, and in his old bones William felt the young man’s longing for something pure and good.

Glancing at Charlie, the cowboy almost smiled, but instead he tipped his hat to Alex. “Miss Merritt, I wish you all the best.”

Turning on his heels, he walked way.

Alex shot after him and tugged on his sleeve. “Jake! Wait! You can’t just leave. At least stay for supper.”

Malone didn’t stop walking, and William didn’t know whether to respect him for wanting to protect Alex from the likes of himself, or if he despised the man for a lack of courage.

Either way, there was hope for Jake Malone, and once the cowboy found that out for himself he’d beat all hell out of Thomas Hunnicutt as a son-in-law. He knew where the young man was headed, and he wasn’t going anywhere as long as William had anything to say about it.

“I’ve got a bottle of twenty-year-old whiskey with your name on it, son.”

The cowboy stopped dead in his tracks. Dust billowed at Alexandra’s feet, and William prayed he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Chapter Four

Pivoting on his heels, Jake locked eyes with William Merritt. The old man’s boots were planted a foot apart, and he’d crossed his arms over his chest. He felt the weight of Alex’s grip on his sleeve and glowered at her. She let go as if he had started to smell bad.

Good. He didn’t want her kindness. He wanted to get drunk and get laid, but he liked William Merritt for his rudeness, and, hell, he deserved a little consideration for saving the man’s daughter. A bottle of whiskey seemed like the least the old man could do.

“That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” Jake said, smirking. A frown spread across Alex’s face, and he got even more irritable. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Of course not.”

But she was glaring at him as if he’d just kicked a puppy. She had no right to judge him. A man had needs. Some men had holes in their guts that made them hard and mean.

He remembered holding her when she had cried, the recoil of the rifle as he shot the snake, the curiosity and fear on her lips when he had kissed her. And it made him realize she had gotten some very wrong ideas about the man who had found her on the Colorado Plateau.

But none of those things mattered now. The angel was about to meet the real Jake Malone. And he’d be damned if he’d apologize for saying “tits.” He was about to tell her just that when Charlie let out a miserable wail and arched his back in frustration.

“He’s hungry and I’m taking him to the doctor,” Alex said, looking over her shoulder. “You can do any fool thing you want.”

She marched down the street on wobbly legs, and Jake wondered what was holding her up. If she had asked him to stay nicely, he would have stomped off, but that sassy tone was a dare he couldn’t resist.

William clapped him hard on back. “Come on, Jake. You can’t argue with Alexandra when she gets like this.”

“I know, sir. I landed on my butt once already.”

The old man grinned at him. “Now that sounds like a story I’ve got to hear.”

Pushing his hat lower on his brow, he said, “She pulled a gun on me, too.”

Alex stopped in her tracks. “You had it coming.”

“Both times?”

Her cheeks flamed. Aiming a pistol at a stranger was self-defense, but knocking him flat after the kiss had been something else altogether.

“My father doesn’t need the details.”

“Sure he does.”

His silky voice teased her like a ribbon against her skin, and her eyes flickered as she weighed her options. If she stopped him from talking, she’d have to explain things to her father herself and a simple kiss would seem like more than it was. On the other hand, she didn’t know what he was going to say.

Holding his gaze, she blinked twice against the bright sun and took a chance. “Go ahead.”

Her tangled hair swished as she turned her back, and the sight of her neck, pink and blistered by the sun, made Jake’s mouth go dry. The woman had been through hell and a man had to respect that. Clearing his throat, he remembered her too-sweet lips and tasted the urge to be truthful, and even kind.

“Well, Mr. Merritt, it all started when I heard an angel singing in the desert, and I have to say your daughter is the bravest, most levelheaded woman I’ve ever met.”

He relived finding the stagecoach, Charlotte’s blood in the sand, and the muddy gun aimed at his chest. He told William about the rain and the rattlesnake, lancing the wound, and finally the last few miles of the ride to Grand Junction. He deliberately left out kissing her, but William didn’t miss a thing.

“So how did you end up on your backside?” he asked.

Jake gave Alex a long, slow smile. Her lips came together in a frustrated line. “Let’s just say she’s not fond of my horse.”

William huffed, but Jake saw a twinkle in his eyes. They both knew it would take more than a bucking bronco to rile Alex, and a soul-deep kiss from a good-looking man qualified. Hooking his thumbs in his belt, the old man studied Alex’s straight back. His eyes narrowed to a hard squint, and Jake knew he’d have a helluva of time keeping secrets from this man.

Stopping in midstride, William wrapped his stubby fingers around Jake’s arm and squeezed. His grip was strong enough to crack nuts, and Jake found himself pinned to the spot by a white-haired giant. The look on the old man’s face chilled his bones and made him hot with anger, but he wouldn’t answer the question lurking beneath the white arch of his eyebrows. What had happened in the desert was between himself and Alex. She could tell her father any damn thing she pleased.

The old man studied him as if he were a bug on a pane of glass. Letting go of Jake’s arm, he grinned and scowled at the same time. “Well, son, for your sake I hope it was just a kiss.”

“You’ll have to ask your daughter.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

They started walking again, and William continued as if nothing else had been said. “I can’t see any reason for you to rush off. I’ve got ten acres of peach trees, with plans to add more. There’s work here if you want it.”

Staying in Grand Junction with this crazy old man and his beautiful daughter was surefire trouble, but the bright sun was a torture to Jake’s bruised eyes. His head was pounding. He needed rest and supplies before he headed further west. “I could use a place to stay for a few days, but I’ve got business in California.”

“What takes you there?”

“Work.” It was a lie, but no one would ever know.

“You can stay here as long as you like.”

He had no intention of staying long enough to leave more than a few footprints in the dust. Staring straight ahead, he said, “I’m much obliged, but I’ll be moving on in a day or two.”

With Alex in the lead, the three of them walked down Colorado Avenue. The smell of dust and paint filled the air, and the old man pointed to a building so new Jake could smell the freshly milled pine.

William raised his voice a notch so it would carry to Alex. “Dr. Winters’s office is right there.”

She was three steps ahead of the men, but with two strides, Jake caught up with her and held the door. She thanked him with a nod, as if she had expected him to be there, and led the way into the office.

Lacquered chairs lined the wall, and the scent of lemon verbena made his skin feel sticky. A man in his early thirties with short sandy hair, spectacles and squeaky shoes came out of the back room. He smiled with recognition at Alex and shook William’s hand.

“Good morning, Mr. Merritt. It looks like you found your daughter.”

“Yes, I did, Doc.” William hooked his thumbs in his waistband.” “Alex, this is Dr. Richard Winters. He came to Grand Junction about a years ago. And Doc, this is my daughter, Alexandra.”

Winters flashed a smile. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Merritt.”

“We found a few others, too,” William continued. “This is Mr. Jake Malone, the man who saved my daughter’s life, and the little fellow is Charlie. The stage went down a day away from here. Check the baby first. Alex won’t rest until we know he’s okay.”

After acknowledging Jake with a curt nod, the doctor put on a toothy smile for Alex. Indicating the exam room, he said, “Miss Merritt? After you.”

Jake watched as she hurried through the door, holding the baby tight against her breast. For propriety’s sake, Winters left the door open, and Jake saw her bend slightly at the waist as she laid the baby on a high, narrow table.

Charlie whimpered like a kitten while the doctor washed his hands, but the wail turned to a howl as Winters poked and prodded. Jake was ready to jab the man in the ribs and ask how he liked being manhandled when Winters handed the baby to Alex.

“He’s hungry, but he seems to be in good shape. I’ve got milk in the kitchen.”

“I’m sure he’s starving,” Alex said, jiggling the baby to soothe him. She hummed to the child, and a few minutes later the doctor came back with a nursing bottle. Charlie must have smelled the milk, because his shriek got louder and he kicked Alex with all his might. His heel caught her bad arm and she winced.

Jake nearly shot out of his chair, but the doctor was already taking the baby from her.

“I’ve got him,” Winters said.

Slipping the nipple into Charlie’s mouth, he carried him to the waiting room. The silence was as welcome as rain in July.

“Now which of you gentlemen will take care of this little guy while I tend to Miss Merritt?” the doctor asked.

“Give him to the young fella,” William said with a pained expression. “I don’t think my heart can take it.”

Jake knew he was being set up, but for once he didn’t mind. “Fine by me,” he answered.

As Winters handed him the baby, the nipple popped out of Charlie’s mouth. Another shriek shook the room, but Jake slipped the tip back in place. The wailing stopped instantly as the baby’s mouth overflowed with warm milk. It dripped over Jake’s dirt-stained fingers, through the dark hairs on his wrist, and down to his pants where it made a wet circle on his thigh.