LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
Copyright (c) 2007
JULY 6TH, 1881
AUSTIN, TEXAS
Sweat rolled uncomfortably down her back and dust clogged her nose, making it extremely difficult to breathe in a ladylike fashion. Eighteen- year- old Angelica Davenport waited, tapping her dainty booted foot impatiently, beside the mule driven streetcar for her trunk to finally be loaded.
The International & Great Northern railway station appeared almost deserted at this time of the evening. Family members had already picked up most of the other passengers who had disembarked with Angelica. There would be no family picking her up though; all she had was the address of a woman she had never even met. The sheriff in Helena, Montana had given the address to her only two weeks prior.
After what seemed like hours, the streetcar arrived. Angelica informed the driver of the address she wished to be taken to and found a seat. She kept her the letter of introduction clutched tightly in her finely manicured fist.
What would she do if Bessie McBride turned her away? She had traveled all this way from Helena, Montana to Austin, Texas just to take a teaching position, and now she wasn’t so sure she hadn’t made a very big mistake. What on earth possessed her to think she could just strike out on her own? Fear made her stomach roll and her head ache. When had she become such a coward? She had been ever since she said goodbye to her sister and boarded the train.
Angelica chided herself. Most women were on their own or married by the time they were her age. Why should she be any different? She certainly couldn’t stay in Montana after what had happened there, and she refused to be a problem or burden in her sister’s marriage. After all, this was 1881, and a woman could certainly make her own way in life, couldn’t she?
{1}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
The horse driven streetcar ambled slowly down the cobblestones. Angelica watched as row after row of small, well kept homes and businesses passed by. Streets with names like Colorado, Lavacca, Guadalupe, and then San Antonio.
The Streetcar came to a halt and the driver began to take Angelica’s trunk down.
“Excuse me sir, I think there has been some mistake. I told you Pine Street.”
The old man looked at Angelica as if she were a child.
“Miss, we have been on Pine Street since we left the station.”
He pointed one work-worn finger toward a large two-story, faded white clapboard house sitting on the corner.
“That’s the address you gave me ma’am. That’s where the widow McBride lives.”
Angelica dragged her heavy trunk through the white picket fence toward the door. She struggled with it up the five steps of the front porch and finally, out of breath, arrived at the door, panting. Her hand was poised to knock when from inside she heard, “You little heathens! Get back here, right now!”
The door burst open and out ran two young boys, knocking Angelica flat on her bottom. She couldn’t take any more. She sat with tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, and her trunk between her legs, on Bessie McBride’s front porch.
A short, plump, brown-haired lady swinging a rolling pin came out the door and stopped right in front of her. “Oh my, did those two little sidewinders hurt you, miss?”
Even though she wanted so badly to just cry, Angelica assured the woman she was fine and handed her the letter she still clutched tightly in her hand.
Watching the older woman read, Angelica became enthralled at the change in her. The woman’s entire face lit up when she realized the letter was from her brother, Arthur Tisdale, the sheriff of Helena, Montana.
{2}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
Angelica sniffed loudly and the older woman looked down at her with sympathy on her kind face.
“I don’t have much room, but you are welcome to stay if you like. A schoolteacher! My, it will be mighty fine to have a schoolteacher living here.”
A deceptively strong arm reached down and helped Angelica to her feet.
“Alex, Isaac, you two get back in here right now. Like it or not, it’s bath night.”
Angelica sat at the kitchen table in shock. Children, there were children of all shapes and sizes all over the place. She had counted six in the last ten minutes alone.
Bessie McBride put a plate of food down on the table in front of her then took the seat opposite. Angelica looked down at the plate; she didn’t recognize anything on it. She wanted to be polite though, so she took a bite of the meat dish. A moment later, her eyes began to water. She choked, coughed, grabbed a glass of water and downed it in a single motion.
“Oh my, I am sorry, dear. I completely forgot people from up North like their food a little bland. I’m afraid Texas cooking takes a little getting used to. The folks down Mexico way laid claim to this state long before we came here, and their way of cooking stayed even after a lot of them were long gone.”
Angelica gulped air loudly, her mouth and throat were burning as if on fire, but she managed to respond anyway.
“Oh no, Mrs. McBride, it’s fine. I’m just not very hungry.”
Bessie’s smile warmed Angelica’s heart.
“Well then, Miss Davenport, shall we discuss the charge for your room and board?”
Angelica could feel her face growing warm and her hands begin to shake.
“Mrs. McBride, there is something I have to tell you. I did have money, I really did, a thousand dollars matter of fact. My uncle gave it to me and I sewed it into the lining of my cloak. Well, ma’am, it’s gone.”
{3}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
Angelica did burst into tears now.
“There was this nice older gentleman sitting beside me on the train all the way from Montana until yesterday. I told him all about coming here to teach, and about my sister, and about the money my uncle had given me. He looked so kind and trustworthy and sympathetic. I never imagined he would take my money, but when I woke from a nap yesterday, he was gone and so was the thousand dollars. I wouldn’t blame you for a minute if you threw me out in the streets right now.”
Bessie McBride patted Angelica’s hand.
“Nobody’s putting you out. You’ll be making plenty of money once the school opens in September. Until then, you can earn your keep by helping me with the house and young’uns.”
Angelica looked uncomfortably at the six little faces staring up at her. Lord, what had she gotten herself into?
“I would be glad to work for my keep, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about housekeeping or children.”
Bessie just smiled. “You’ll learn honey, you’ll sure learn. Now how about I show you to your room for tonight? You must be powerfully tired after such a long trip.”
Angelica followed Bessie up the stairs. They stopped outside of the door to the first room on the right. Bessie opened the door and lit the small oil lamp on the bedside table.
“This is my son, Colt’s room, but he’s in El Paso right now and won’t be back for a couple more days. You are welcome to use this room till then. I’m afraid you will have to bunk in with the girls after that though; Colt is mighty attached to his room.”
Angelica looked around the sparsely furnished room. She could certainly tell a man lived here. The room held only a plain large bed with a dark wood frame and a beautifully hand-carved headboard, one dresser, a small washstand, and a plain straight-backed chair.
{4}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
“Mrs. McBride, are you sure your son won’t mind? I could stay with the girls now.”
Angelica glanced down at the two little dark-haired girls who had followed them up the stairs. They couldn’t be much more than four or five years old.
“Please call me Bessie, Mrs. McBride is just too formal for everyday conversation. Colt won’t mind a bit if you use his room. Believe me, after you spend one night with those two, you’ll want to toss poor Colt out on his ear.”
Bessie’s voice became almost a whisper as she leaned close to Angelica and pointed to the smaller of the two girls.
“This here is Lily, she’s four and sometimes has a problem with peeing the bed.”
Angelica looked down at the little girl with the dark hair and huge brown eyes, then back up at Bessie.
“I’ll appreciate the use of this room, and please call me Angelica. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but these children don’t look anything like you, they look Indian or Mexican except for the boy you called Alex. Who do they belong to?”
Bessie laughed a hearty big laugh.
“They’re mine all right. They are all orphans and I run an orphanage. Didn’t my brother tell you?”
Angelica gulped audibly and just shook her head.
Bessie left and a few minutes later, Angelica heard loud thumping coming up the stairs. She opened the door and there were Alex and Isaac, struggling with her trunk.
Angry blue eyes met hers.
“Miss Bessie said we had to bring this up to you and say we’re sorry for knocking you down. What you got in here, lady, rocks?”
{5}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
Angelica smiled at the two little boys who couldn’t have been more different. The boy, Alex, was about eight years old with golden blond wavy hair and bright blue eyes. He had a smattering of freckles across his very white nose. Isaac was just the opposite; his hair was as black as the night and so were his eyes. His skin was a golden brown and Angelica decided he was probably about the same age as Alex. Angelica moved out of the way and allowed the boys to bring the trunk into the room.
“I swear there are no rocks in there, only my clothing. Thank you for bringing them up to me.”
Alex glared at Angelica. “Those are the heaviest clothes I’ve ever seen.” Then, without another word, the pair was gone.
Sweat trickled down her spine and Angelica walked over to the window and threw it open, hoping to catch at least a hint of a night breeze. There was none. This whole state felt like someone should open a window and let in a little fresh air. Was it always like this in Texas, or was this just unusually warm weather? She hoped for the latter.
Feeling tired and damp, Angelica strolled to the little washstand holding the blue earthenware pitcher of water and a basin. She poured in the lukewarm water and began to undress. Maybe if she sponged off she would cool down a bit and be able to sleep.
She stripped down to her snow-white cotton chemise and pantalets. The water felt so good as it trickled down and cooled her parched skin, but she felt the sweat beginning to bead up again before she had even finished. She decided to just go to bed. Pulling off the quilt and leaving only the thin sheet, Angelica climbed in the bed.
The moment her head hit the pillow, her senses were assaulted with the smell of worn leather, cherry wood-smoke, and clean homemade soap. This must be the smell of Bessie’s son. Angelica knew he was a Texas Ranger, the sheriff and his wife in Helena had told her so. She tried to imagine what this Colt McBride must look like to take her mind off the stifling heat.
{6}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
He was probably short, stocky and small like his mother, and considering Bessie appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, her son was probably just beginning to bald by now. He probably had a little potbelly too. Angelica laughed to herself. Bessie’s son might not be handsome, but he sure did smell good.
She tried to sleep but sleep would not come. Angelica’s mind drifted back to the last few months and the events, which had so drastically changed her life.
Her thoughts took her back to Montana, back to the horror she thought she had left far behind. She tried her best to block it out, but she couldn’t. She was trapped once again with her sister Caitlin and the horror welled up and threatened to overcome her.
Angelica had never even known she had a sister. But she and Caitlin were taken prisoner by the man she had always believed to be her own father. Magnus Davenport had been a monster. During the War Between the States he had been a Union lieutenant and had been responsible for the pointless death of Angelica’s mother. He had spirited Angelica from her home when she was no more than a baby and raised her as his daughter.
She had been given almost everything a girl could ever want, beautiful clothes, a good education, and even a personal maid. The only thing she lacked was love. For what seemed like the millionth time, she closed her eyes and tried to remember her mother’s face. No memory would come. Angelica had been only three years old when she had been stolen away, but she still felt guilty for forgetting her parent’s faces.
Angelica wanted desperately to know what it was to be loved. Her sister and her Uncle Beauregard loved her, but they didn’t really know her. She had been so awful. She had almost married a man just so Davenport, the man she believed to be her father, could have him killed for his land. That man had been Tanner O’Shea, who was now married to Angelica’s sister Caitlin. He was also the man who killed Magnus Davenport and freed Angelica from the monster who had killed her birth mother and what would have most certainly been a dreadful future.
{7}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
She couldn’t stay there though. She couldn’t face him day after day knowing what she had tried to do. She couldn’t face the town’s people in Butte Montana either. She didn’t want to see their pity for her reflected in their eyes. She would rather live in this place God had surely forgotten than go back home and face ridicule.
She was strong; she would survive, she would make a place for herself, and she would do it on her own terms. Angelica hugged herself tightly and stifled the tears threatening to fall. She could do this. She really could. What choice did she have?
*****
Colt McBride couldn’t remember the last time he had been this tired. In just a couple of hours he would be home again. He glanced over at the two men riding beside him. Shane was almost asleep in his saddle, and Miles wasn’t making any bones about his desire to stop right here for the night. Colt didn’t want to stop though. He wanted to get home. He wished he didn’t have to tell Alex it was just another dead end.
He dreaded facing the boy. He didn’t want to see the hurt reflected in the little boy’s eyes again. It was his fault though; he had trusted a woman, and it had cost his best friends their lives. Colt knew in his heart he would never trust another woman again.
“Boss, be reasonable. Shane and I are both dead tired. Let’s stop here for the night.” Miles pleaded.
Colt looked over at the two young men who had become Texas Rangers less than a year ago. “Miles, I’m not going to argue the point with you. I told you I need to get home tonight. We will be there in just a couple more hours.”
The other man said no more. He didn’t have to. Everyone knew once Colt McBride made his mind up to do something, he would do it or die trying.
{8}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
Colt felt badly for his men. He knew he was pushing them too hard. As their captain it was his duty to see to their welfare.
“All right, Cavendish, we will rest here for an hour but no more. How about if you wake up Shane. I sure wouldn’t want him to miss his rest.”
Miles Cavendish shook Shane’s arm and the man came immediately awake and alert.
“How is it you can sleep in the saddle on a moving horse?”
Colt smiled. “Haven’t you noticed, Cavendish? He’s one of those wild savage Injuns you are so fond of reading about. Everybody knows Injuns can sleep and ride at the same time.”
Shane O’Brian shook his head. “No, my friend, I am just a mild-mannered Injun. Now my grandfather, he was a wild Injun.”
Colt laughed. “I’ve never met your grandfather. If he was anything like you, though, he was wild. You take more chances than anyone I know.”
Shane chuckled. “You only live once, Captain. I’ve seen you take your share of chances too, especially with the ladies. ”
Colt shook his head. “No, my friend, I don’t ever want to get involved with any women again. I never make the same mistake twice.”
The men dismounted and took their rest in silence.
Colt sat down and leaned back against a large boulder.
Yes, he had to get home and talk to Alex. The little boy had been so hopeful when Colt told him he had a new lead on the people who had killed his mother and father. However, just as she had done every other time in the past six months when he had gotten close, Juanita Maria Montoya had slipped right through his hands.
{9}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
Why had it all gone so very wrong that day six months ago?
Colt had been walking on clouds. He was taking Juanita to meet his two best friends in the whole world. He had been having very serious thoughts of settling down and maybe starting a family with the lovely Juanita. It hadn’t worked out that way, though.
They rented a buggy in El Paso and drove out to the McConnel ranch for Sunday dinner. It had been a clear, early January day, and the air was crisp and invigorating.
Crystal and David McConnel invited them into their home with enthusiasm. Crystal had been trying to play matchmaker for years, and was so excited Colt had finally found a lady he wanted to spend his life with.
Dinner had been good food and pleasant conversation. Most of the talk had been about the new babe Crystal would have in just a few short weeks. Alex, their eight-year-old son, was so excited about the idea of being a big brother. After dinner, David wanted to show Colt a new horse he had just bought, so they went outside, with Alex trailing behind.
Colt had his 73 Winchester rifle at his side; he didn’t go anywhere without it. It had been his father’s, and it was one of a kind. It had a 24-inch octagon barrel and was a .44 caliber killing machine. What made it so special though, was that an old Comanche Indian friend of his father’s had carved a morning star onto the buttstock. This had been for luck. Colt killed the man who killed his father with that rifle. That day though, Colt’s luck ran out.
When Colt, David, and Alex walked into the barn, a stranger with a handkerchief over his face opened fire. David didn’t even see it coming before he lay dead on the barn floor. Colt grabbed Alex, rolled and fired in the same motion. He caught the man right between the eyes. He heard a shot come from the direction of the house and then a woman scream. He told Alex not to leave the barn and ran toward the house as fast as his shaking legs would carry him.
{10}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
He kicked open the door and the sight that met his eyes still tormented his dreams. There on the cold floor lay the lifeless bloody body of kind sweet Crystal. Colt looked around for Juanita, so afraid she had met with the same fate. The back door was open so, without a care for his own safety, out the door he flew. He stopped dead still in his tracks. Juanita stood right before him, smiling.
“Your friends have just paid the price for killing my father. You have yet to pay Colt McBride, but you will pay for a long time, my love, a very long time.”
Colt saw movement from the corner of his eye but it was too late to react, something hard came down and darkness descended.
When he awoke, Juanita was gone and so was his rifle. Alex was sitting at his mother’s side holding her cold limp lifeless hand. The boy struggled fiercely when Colt took him away from the graves it had taken hours to dig. He made a promise to Alex that night.
“I’m going to find out why this happened and who all was behind it. I will bring them to justice!”
Colt took eight-year-old Alex home to his mother’s orphanage, and for the last six months, he had been searching for those cold-blooded murderers.
It was in the early hours of the morning when Colt finally arrived home. He took his horse around to the back of the house to the barn. He removed the saddle and blanket, and put a generous helping of oats in Black Jack’s bucket. He rubbed down the huge midnight black Arabian stallion and patted his thick neck.
“Well my friend, you think we will ever find that woman again and get her to talk before I put a noose around her pretty little neck?”
Black Jack shook his massive head then nuzzled Colt’s hand.
“Yea, I’m beginning to doubt it myself.”
{11}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
He slowly made his way up the stairs. All Colt wanted in the whole world right now was to lay his weary bones down on his bed and sleep for a week. He opened his door and walked toward his bed, and almost fell flat on his face when he tripped over a large trunk.
“Damn!”
What was he going to do about his mother? She was forever trying to use his room for spare storage. Immediately Colt felt bad. He knew his mother worked so hard trying to take care of the orphans who had been dropped off on her doorstep. Colt helped all he could, but money just didn’t go very far these days and the number of children just kept on growing. His father’s pension helped, but there was always a child who had outgrown shoes, or pants, or shirts, or something.
Slowly, watching where he stepped, Colt made his way to his bed. He sat on the edge and removed his boots then stood and took off his shirt and pants. It felt good to be naked. Summers in Texas could certainly be a tad bit warm. He stretched his long lean body out on the bed, and before his head settled into his pillow, Colt was sound asleep.
*****
Angelica was having a wonderful dream. She was at a society dance and was being held closely by a tall, very handsome businessman. He was holding her just a little tighter than was proper though and she struggled to pull away. The more she tried to pull away, the tighter his arms became. Angelica started struggling in earnest and woke to a bright sun-filled morning. The only problem was, she wasn’t alone. She was in a strange bed and a strange naked man was holding her tight against his chest. She screamed.
Colt immediately came awake. He let go of the girl he hadn’t even been aware of and lay there staring into the bluest eyes he had ever seen.
{12}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
“Get out of my bed!” Angelica hissed.
Colt smiled at the young woman with the fiery red porcelain perfect face.
“I don’t know who’s been telling you what, miss, but I can assure you, this is most definitely my bed.”
The woman rolled over and tried to escape from the other side but Colt grabbed an arm and hauled her back until she was facing him once more.
“Who are you? Let me go this instant!”
God she was pretty, long blond sleep-rumpled curls and a pink cotton-candy mouth. The rest of her wasn’t too bad either. Colt could see and feel the rise and fall of two good hand-full sized pert breasts beneath the thin fabric of her white cotton chemise. Her curves were in all the right places too, and she fit so very right in his arms.
“I am Angelica Davenport, the new schoolteacher. Now release me this second!”
Colt chuckled. “Angel, huh, you may not sound much like an angel, but honey, you feel like one. You don’t look like any school-marm I ever had though, that’s for sure. If my teachers had looked anything like you, I would have never played hooky.”
Angelica struggled harder. “My name is not Angel, it is Angelica, Now let me go!”
Just then the door flew open and in rushed Bessie.
“Oh dear, Colt, I had no idea you would be home last night. You let go of our new boarder, Miss Davenport, right now.”
Colt released the red-faced young woman and Angelica leapt from the bed. She grabbed her dressing gown from the top of the dresser, threw it over her shoulders, and headed out the door. Then turned back around and went to her trunk and, opening it, removed clean clothing and headed toward the door yet again.
{13}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
“The room just across the hall is the one you will be sharing with the girls.” Bessie called to Angelica’s retreating backside.
Angelica nodded, and without glancing back, fled the room.
Angelica sat on the bed in the other room trying to catch her breath. The smell of leather, horse, and cherry wood-smoke was still in her nostrils.
Well, Bessie’s son certainly wasn’t short, or fat, or balding. Colt McBride was the most devastatingly ruggedly handsome man Angelica had ever seen. She was five foot six and when she had been lying nose to nose with the man, her feet came to just below his knees. He must be at least six and a half-feet tall.
His hair was like a gleaming, sun-streaked, wind-blown, wheat field, and his eyes were such a cold ice blue, they reminded her of a Montana winter. And his lips, full, tempting, and the color of a nice Chardonnay wine she once enjoyed back home. Would they taste that sweet, too?
Angelica put her hand to her pounding chest, the feel of being up against his long, lean, corded body much too fresh in her mind.
She hadn’t meant to look, she really hadn’t. She just couldn’t help herself. When Bessie ran in the room and Colt let go of her, she had gotten just a quick glimpse of the long thick shaft, which moments before had been pressed flush against her belly.
The Lord had certainly been more than a little generous to Colt McBride.
She could tell he could be a very dangerous man though. Angelica decided she had better give Colt McBride a very wide berth.
She shook her head and started dressing, there was no more time for daydreaming. She needed to go down to the school today and make sure she had a job. She had sent a telegram before leaving Montana, but hadn’t waited for a reply. No more time to think about handsome Texas Rangers.
{14}
LARKSON/ WISH UPON A MORNING STAR
But no matter how hard Angelica tried to wipe the image of the gloriously naked man from her mind, he invaded over and over and over again.
*****
There was no way Colt could miss the anger in his mother’s eyes.
“I’ve seen that look before, Mother. I swear, I didn’t know she was in my bed.”
Bessie shook her head. “I know it wasn’t done on purpose and really it is my fault. I’m the one who put her in here. I want you to know something though son. I don’t know what has happened in that young lady’s past, but she’s running away from something. I would stake my life on it. I think she’s hurting real bad right now.”
Colt set up and ran his fingers through his hair.
“You know I don’t want anything to do with women right now. You have nothing to worry about; I’ve learned my lesson. Miss Davenport is quite safe around me.”
Bessie shook her head, turned and left the room.
Colt lay back and stared at the ceiling. Miss Angelica Davenport had certainly been a surprise. Soft, that’s what Angel was. God she had been so soft and warm in his arms. Colt decided he had better be careful. The last thing he needed right now was some beautiful spoiled city woman complicating his life.
He had to concentrate on finding Juanita. She had said he killed her father. Who was her father?
As a Texas Ranger, Colt had been forced to kill more than a few men.
Colt closed his eyes once more and let the faces and names of the men he had brought to justice run through his mind. Juanita’s father was there somewhere, just which one was the problem.
One more problem bothered him also. How was it, every time he got close to catching her, she managed to slip through his fingers? Someone must be feeding her information, but who?
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