“Hello, Angela.”
“Billy Anderson.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
“Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” Billy asked pleasantly.
Angela shook off her shock. “Certainly not! What is it you want, Billy?”
“To talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
She started to close the door, but he shoved it open violently, sending her into the middle of the room. Suddenly the door was closed and Billy was leaning back against it.
“How dare you?” she stormed. “Get out of here, Billy, before I call the manager!”
“I don’t think you’ll call anyone, Angela,” he replied as he pulled a gun from the inside of his fawn-colored coat.
Sudden fear crept through her. She stared at the gun, much like her own little derringer, and wished to God hers were on her instead of packed in her luggage. She looked at her luggage, on the bed where she had left it, but couldn’t see much hope there. Both cases were closed.
Billy grinned wickedly. “I told you the day would come, didn’t I, Angela? It took a long time, but the rewards will be worth the wait.”
Angela tried to ignore the icy fear that clutched her. “What do you want, Billy?”
“I haven’t quite decided yet. For a long time now, I just wanted to kill you. Does that surprise you?”
Angela was stunned. This couldn’t be happening.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I wanted to kill you?” She could only nod slowly. “I’ve always wanted you, Angela, but even when you were nothin‘ but poor white trash I wasn’t good enough for you. When I began to get somewhere, you still wouldn’t have me. You’ve obsessed my mind, Angela. But now that I’ve seen you again, I think I’ll let you live after all. There are ways to make you mine, and mine alone.”
She finally found her voice, though it came out as a cracked whisper. “You—you can’t be serious.”
“Of course, you will have to become my wife,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “But that will only be a title, for the sake of appearance. No, you’re gonna suffer for the years you have made me suffer. You will be my slave, but only you and I will know it. Oh, I have such wonderful plans for you, Angela.”
She stared at him with wide violet-blue eyes. He was crazy, truly crazy!
“What you want is impossible,” she said, as evenly as she could. “I would never consent to marry you.”
“Really?” Billy asked with a raised brow and a grin on his lips.
He sauntered forward, waving his gun dangerously in the air. When he reached her, he stuck the gun between her breasts, and with his other hand, took a handful of her hair and pulled her painfully against him. Still holding her by the hair, he jerked her head back and brought his lips down over hers. She gagged at the smell of sour whiskey and tobacco on his breath, and tried to push away.
He released her hair and grabbed her arm with the hand that held the gun, pulling her arm cruelly behind her back. She was unable to move without pain tearing through her shoulder.
With his free hand he grabbed her breast, his fingers digging into her excruciatingly. She cried out.
Billy laughed.
“This will be even more enjoyable than I thought,” he rasped. “I’ll have you grovelin‘ at my feet before I’m finished with you.”
He released her and she stumbled back. She grasped her throbbing arm, feeling tears of pain beginning to surface. But she fought them. She would be damned before she would let Billy Anderson see her cry.
She watched him warily as he moved around the room, taking in the surroundings. “You live pretty high on the hog, don’t you? I guess I can get used to that. And I see you were plannin‘ a trip.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Looks like I got to you just in time, then,” he remarked and moved back to her. “But even if you had gone, I would have found you again, just like I did this time.”
“How did you find me?” she asked, stalling for time.
He laughed. “I knew about the inheritance Maitland left you, and followed that lawyer here. I’ve been waitin‘ here all this time, just for the right moment. And when I saw you come into town today and check in here, I knew the time had come. Now get that luggage off the bed,” he commanded, picking up a lock of her hair. “We’ll be usin’ it now.”
Angela suddenly saw her chance. “I have to unpack something first,” she said quickly.
“There will be time for that later,” he replied. “Just move it for now.”
Her body went rigid when she saw her only hope vanish. “Move it yourself!” she snapped. “I will not—”
He backhanded her, sending her tumbling to the floor. Then he yanked her to her feet and pushed her toward the bed. “You’d better learn now that you’ll do what I say, Angela. I’m not opposed to dealin‘ out punishment if you don’t. In fact, I’d enjoy that as much as takin’ you to bed.”
Angela had no doubt that he would take pleasure in beating her to death. She considered screaming for help, but cast that idea aside, sure that he would shoot her. She could think of no way to save herself, at least not yet. But if she could just get that gun away from him...
She lugged the heavy trunks off the bed and waited for his next move. A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and, at that moment, there was a knock.
Angela ran for the door. But she was jerked to a halt before she got halfway there, and Billy’s arms circled around her, squeezing the breath from her.
“Whoever it is, get rid of them!” Billy whispered urgently, the short barrel of his gun touching her jaw. “Do you understand me?”
She nodded slowly.
“Who is it?” she called out tremulously.
The only answer was another knock, much louder this time. Then the handle of the door was tried, but Billy had locked it.
“What do you want?” she called.
“I’m not about to talk through the door, Angela,” was the reply.
“It’s Bradford!” she gasped.
Billy swung her around to face him. “That’s impossible! I saw him leave for Kansas myself!”
“You saw him?”
“Yes. I wanted to be sure he was gone so I went out on the range and watched him leave. He has no business bein‘ back here so soon!”
“Angela, will you open this door, or shall I break it down?” Bradford called.
“Get rid of him—or I will!” Billy said meaningfully.
Angela understood well enough. She had to make Bradford leave, but how?
“I’ll get rid of him, but let me handle it, Billy,” she said firmly.
When Billy released his hold on her, she smoothed her hair back and crossed to the door slowly. Opening the door just wide enough to peek through, she took a deep breath and looked up. The sight of him turned her face ashen.
“What happened to you?” she gasped, completely forgetting Billy. Bradford was covered in black soot from head to foot.
“What took you so long to answer the door?” he asked gruffly.
“I’m busy, Bradford,” she replied, Billy’s presence frightening her once again.
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she answered abruptly, hoping he would be angry enough to leave.
“Everything you do is my business.”
“Not anymore,” she returned sharply. “Please leave.”
Without replying, he suddenly pushed his way into the room and confronted Billy.
Billy instantly sensed the fury of the larger man and backed away, his gun hidden in his hand.
Angela cleared her throat nervously. “I told you I was busy, Bradford.”
“Who is this?” Bradford asked furiously, turning the smoldering golden gaze on her.
“A friend of mine,” she replied, growing more desperate by the moment. She had to get Bradford to leave. “Just like Grant was a friend. Now will you go away?”
Bradford turned
on his heel and stormed from the room, slamming the door. She sighed in relief. At least Bradford was safe now.
“You handled that very nicely.” Billy grinned, relaxing. “Who was Grant? One of your lovers?”
“You wanted me to get rid of him!” Angela hissed. “Well, what does it matter how I did it? He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Billy replied with a savage grin. “And now for the rewards I’ve waited so long for.”
Bradford stood at the top of the stairs, staring ahead without seeing. What she had said couldn’t be true, not after what Grant had told him. Which of them would he believe? Would he—could he—trust Angela after all they’d been through?
Angela unfastened her skirt and let it fall to her feet, her eyes glued to the small gun pointed at her.
“You’re learnin‘ to follow orders very well, Angela,” Billy said, a cruel gleam in his eyes. “Now spread yourself out on the bed like a good little whore. And just remember, if you cry out, I’ll make you wish you were dead before I—”
At that moment the door burst open.
Angela screamed. “Bradford, he has a gun!” But before she could finish the sentence, Billy fired at Bradford.
Angela stared in horror, expecting to watch Bradford fall. But he kept charging forward, like a bull. Billy was terrified. His one bullet was gone. He tried to dodge Bradford’s reach, but he was too late.
The men fell to the floor together. Angela turned her back on the scene, sickened by the sounds of bones crunching. She grabbed the cover from the bed and wrapped it around her, then faced the men again. Billy was no longer struggling. He had fallen unconscious. But that did not stop Bradford from hammering away at him.
“Bradford, that’s enough! He can’t feel it anymore.”
Bradford did not answer. He continued to deliver blow after blow to the body under him.
“You’re killing him!” Angela screamed.
Bradford stopped suddenly and looked at her. Without a word he took hold of the back of Billy’s coat and dragged him out of the room and down the hall. She heard Billy’s body falling down the stairs. If the beating hadn’t killed Billy, the fall easily could.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?” she whispered when Bradford returned.
“No, but it will be a long time before he’ll be able to move again,” Bradford replied. “And then I will see to it that he is shipped across the continent.”
“How did you know I needed you?” Suddenly she felt overwhelmingly shy. She held the bedspread around herself tightly.
“You told me,” he answered gently, keeping his distance from her. “It was something you said.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It can wait. You need some rest, and so do I. We will talk tomorrow.”
She watched him go, perplexed. Did he pity her now? Well, pity was the last thing she wanted from Bradford Maitland. She would leave tomorrow, as she had planned.
“Amigo, is that your mess at the bottom of the stairs?” Bradford turned from his doorway to see Hank coming down the hall.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Hank grinned. “This is a free country, is it not? Or do you own Dallas?”
“You were supposed to be on your way to Mexico,” Bradford reminded him stiffly.
“So I was,” Hank shrugged. “But with a little luck, I will not have to go alone. I have been waiting for a certain lady to join me.”
“Anyone I know?” Bradford asked drily.
Hank laughed. “I believe you know her very well, amigo. The lady is your partner.”
Bradford went rigid. “Is that why she’s here?”
“She is here?” Hank asked, surprised. “Where?”
“Wait a minute! Is Angela here to meet you or not?”
“No,” Hank replied. “I have not seen her since I left your ranch.”
Bradford’s eyes blazed. “I warned you to stay away from her!”
“By what right?” Hank demanded. “She is only your partner. Does that give you the right to speak for her? No, amigo. She is a woman without a man, and I would be a fool not to try to make her mine.”
Bradford grabbed Hank’s shirt front and shoved him up against the wall. “I’m warning you—”
Bradford stopped when he felt the barrel of a gun pressed against his belly. He let go of Hank, bristling at the man’s amused grin.
“Is this how it will always be for you, amigo? The man at the bottom of the stairs, you beat him senseless. But the bruises on your face are old. Was that another fight over the woman? And now you wish to tear me apart too, eh?” Hank shook his head. “You will let no one else have her, but you do not claim her for yourself. What is wrong with you?”
Bradford did not have the energy to pretend. “I don’t know if she’ll still have me.”
Hank put his gun away. “If she knows you love her, then she’ll have you. It’s you she loves. I wish you had not come to your senses, amigo, for then you might have driven her to me. But now... there is nothing for me here. Adios.”
Grinning at his bigheartedness, Hank loped down the hall and out of sight. Now there would be no coming back for her. He was certain of that.
Chapter 49
ANGELA spent two full days in bed. The storm raged outside as she lay watching it.
Against her protests, Bradford sent for the doctor, who ordered strict bed rest. She gave in, needing the time to settle her nerves, time to think, after her ordeal.
She hadn’t seen Bradford and they had yet to have their talk. She had learned of the fire and rejoiced that Bradford was safe. Fury and terror had given him the strength to break free of the ropes and escape the flaming house.
Mary Lou came to visit in the afternoon of the second day. She talked of pleasant things, but she was unable to cheer her friend.
After Mary Lou left, Angela stood by the window, staring out at the darkness, listening to the rain. The room was pleasantly warm, with logs blazing in the fireplace. She slipped out of her robe and laid it over the chair by the window. She didn’t hear Bradford enter the room, and she jumped when he said, “Where are you going, Angela?”
She turned and found him staring at the trunks at the foot of her bed.
She moved over to the trunks and closed the lids without looking at him. “I thought I’d go to Europe. I plan to leave tomorrow.”
“I had the impression you liked it here,” Bradford returned, his voice almost a whisper. At least she had not said she was going to Mexico.
Her eyes were filled with unconcealed longing. “I do, Bradford, but I’ve been here long enough. I’d like to go places I’ve never been,” she said lightly and crossed to stand by the fire, the light behind her making her nightgown almost transparent. “You know, you never told me why you came back here. Or how your face was bruised.”
Bradford fingered his jaw self-consciously.
“Grant and I finally had it out,” he answered uneasily.
“Does he look as bad as you do?” she asked, whirling around.
Bradford leaned against the side of the bed, a weak grin on his lips. “No, he got the better of me this time, and I deserved every bit of it.”
“Yes, you did,” she replied.
“Grant told me what I was too pigheaded to listen to before.”
Angela began to feel faint. “Which was... what?”
“That you didn’t come out here because of him—and that he never made love to you.”
“Why didn’t you believe me when I told you the same thing?”
“Because I saw the two of you in bed, Angela, in Nacogdoches. You were kissing Grant, with only a damn sheet wrapped around you. I went there to bring you back to Golden Oaks, but when I opened the door to your room and saw the two of you like that, I assumed the worst. What else was I supposed to think? I still don’t understand how you could be in a position like that unless you were lovers.”
She listened to him quietly and then said, “Grant came to m
y room drunk. He busted in on me before I could get dressed. And since he was too drunk to stand up, I put him to bed. He had come to ask me to marry him, but I refused. He pleaded for the kiss before I left, and I saw no harm in that. Then I got another room for myself for the night. That is the whole story.”
Bradford crossed the room to stand before her. “I realize how wrong I have been, Angela. But why did you leave Golden Oaks without a single word? My God, do you know how I felt? And then I thought you had run away to be with Grant. It nearly destroyed me. Why did you do it?”
“I was in the hall mat morning when Crystal read you the letter. I heard it all, Bradford. I believed it wholly. I believed you were my half brother. I knew I had to leave, because seeing you again would have hurt too much. I continued to believe the lie until Jim McLaughlin found me and gave me a letter from Jacob.”
“But why have you never told me all this?”
“Because you never gave me a chance.”
Everything was clear to him now. Everything except one question. Had he killed her love with cruel treatment?
“I know how I felt when Crystal claimed mat you were my half sister. The world suddenly became black and empty. Did you feel the same way?” he asked her gently, his eyes shaded. For once, he was thinking of her and not of himself.
“Yes. Even when I went to town and found out that your fiancée had just arrived. It almost didn’t matter, because I thought I could never have you anyway.”
Bradford groaned. He had forgotten about his lie, and wished now that his pride had not goaded him into hurting Angela with it.
He cleared his throat and said sheepishly, “I’m not married, Angela.”
“I know,” she grinned. “Candise sent a telegram while you were gone, explaining that she had married on your advice.”
“I would have told you about her,” Bradford rushed ahead. “I only asked her to marry me to please my father, and she agreed to please hers, even though she loved another man. But then I found you, and I knew what happiness could be. She arrived the day you left Golden Oaks, and I broke our engagement before I came after you. She was as relieved to break it off as I was.”