An Angel in the Mail Read Online Free PDF Page A

reins. At least he didn’t try to outrun the horsemen closing in on them. Visions of the coach careening wildly, until it overturned, flashed through her mind.
    Angel’s mouth dried up and her heart pounded. Everyone in New York had heard horror stories of bandit hold-ups out West. Her group would be robbed and possibly killed, left as food for wild animals. She shuddered and offered a silent prayer.
    The coach came to a stop, the passengers sat perfectly still. “Everybody out.” A blast of heat hit her in the face as one of the outlaws opened the door. Tall, with long, stringy dark hair, he had a filthy red bandana pulled over his mouth. The man’s coal black eyes studied them. He waved a gun, which encouraged the fat man, Angel, and the knitter to hurry out.
    The driver lay on the ground, blood seeping from a head wound.
    “What’s wrong with him?” The outlaw gestured with his chin in the direction of the doctor.
    “I think he’s asleep,” the knitter whispered.
    “No.” Angel stared the outlaw in the eyes and lifted her chin. “He’s drunk.” She’d pushed the fear into anger. If she were going to deal with this new life, in the wilds of the West, she’d have to rely on the inner strength she’d always had. The inner strength Sylvia spoke of when she’d left her in New York City with a ticket to the ends of the earth and promises made to a stranger she could never fulfill.
    The outlaw chuckled. “All right, sweetheart, you and your friends take out your money and jewelry, and we’ll be on our way, without anyone getting hurt.”
    She jerked open her reticule and took out what little money remained from the small allowance Mr. Hale had sent with the tickets. Steeling herself against the terror, she snorted as she slapped the few bills on the outlaw’s palm. The other two men climbed to the top of the stagecoach and tossed down the trunks strapped there.
    “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” The outlaw with the stringy hair pinched Angel’s cheek. He fingered her earrings. “Take ‘em off.”
    Angel removed the pearl bobs, a gift from her father, tears filling her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t show weakness in front of these savages. With a shrug, and a heavy heart, she dropped them into his hand, and swallowed the tears at the loss of another memory of her father.
    “Be careful, or we just might decide to take you with us. I like ‘em feisty, and we could use a beauty like you to keep us warm at night.”
    Angel turned away, her body stiff.
    The outlaw poked the fat man in his stomach. “Come on, tubby, hand over your money. And I’ll take that pocket watch, too.”
    One of his cohorts entered the coach and relieved the sleeping doctor of his belongings. Angel jerked and squeezed her eyes shut when the tall stringy-haired one shot off the locks on two trunks. Dirty hands pawed through her belongings.
    All the blood left her face when a short outlaw, with a scar from the corner of his eye to his chin, pulled out a pair of her drawers and sniffed. He wiped his drooling mouth with the undergarment and smiled at her, shoving it into the waistband of his filthy pants.
    She fought the black dots dancing before her eyes. I will not faint. I won’t give them the satisfaction.
    After gathering what they wanted from the trunk, leaving clothing and possessions scattered all around, the men remounted their horses. The fat man cried into his handkerchief.
    “A pleasure doing business with y’all,” the leader said. Then he glanced in Angel’s direction. “If you want to come along, honey, hop on up.”
    She stepped back, crossed her arms and stared him in the eye. He laughed uproariously, tugged on the brim of his hat, and took off. Clouds of dry dirt billowed behind them as they made their escape.
    “Are you crazy?” The fat man said to Angel, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. “You could have gotten us all killed.”
    “ You certainly weren’t any help.” The knitter