CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The man was probably around forty years old and he wore a three piece suit and a hat; clearly a city man. Something about him seemed strangely familiar to Angelina and she wondered briefly if he was from Denver.

"Who's that?" George asked Hank.

"Never seen him," Hank shrugged. The man halted a few feet inside the door.

"I'm looking for Angelina Hastings," he said. "I'm told she works here." He grimaced as if he had tasted something unpleasant.

Hank glanced at Angelina, his eyes narrowing. She turned her head to look at the visitor again and his eyes fixed on her face.

"Angelina! Good heavens!" He strode towards them. Hank immediately grasped Angelina by the waist and stood up, setting her on her feet and turning towards the stranger. The man ignored him and went straight towards her.

"What on earth are you doing in a place like this? Your father will be turning in his grave!" He took hold of her arm as she stared at him, dumbfounded. "Come with me, this minute."

"Take your hands off my woman!" Hank snarled at him, lurching forward and pulling her away from the stranger. She stepped back, trying to place the steel grey eyes and angular jaw. Why did he look so familiar?

"I can see I arrived not a moment too soon," he said, turning to look at her. "What are you doing in this awful place? Behaving in such a fashion with the likes of him? You're dressed like a prostitute!"

He glanced sideways at Hank with a disgusted look on his face. He didn't have the chance to add to this as Hank's fist suddenly collided with his jaw. Angelina gasped and put her hands over her mouth. The man staggered backwards and Hank followed up his punch with another with the other hand and then a third to the stomach. The visitor crumpled to the ground, blood leaking from his nose and mouth, unconscious.

"Well done, Hank," muttered Jake, now on his feet also. "Now we're gonna have to fetch Dr Mike."

Hank turned on Angelina, his face furious, his fists still clenched.

"Who the hell is he? Hah?" he roared. Startled, she took a couple of steps backward.

"He's my….he's my uncle," she stammered. "My father's brother."

Hank swore under his breath. He glanced from Angelina to the injured man on the ground and then turned away suddenly, striding out of the saloon, leaving the doors swinging behind him.

"George, you better go and fetch the doc," Jake said. "He could have concussion when he comes around. If he comes round. I'll go after Hank."

"Leave him be," Angelina said a little shakily.

"He's an idiot," Jake muttered. "He can't treat people like this, least of all you. He needs someone to tell him…."

"Just let him cool down," she interrupted. "He'll be fine later, I'll talk to him. You won't do any good annoying him when he's in that mood."

"Me? Annoy him?" Jake shook his head. "Fair enough. If you ask me, though, your uncle has a point. What you're doing with the likes of Hank has always been a mystery to me."

She frowned at him, but said nothing. Instead, she kneeled beside the man on the floor as he began to stir, groaning softly. She hadn't seen her Uncle Joseph since she was about eight years old and it was only the fact that his eyes and his jawline were identical to her father's that she recognised him now. She remembered Joseph and Father having a huge fight and after that Joseph had gone to Chicago. He had never returned to visit and Angelina had forgotten he even existed until now.

Uncle Joseph opened his eyes slowly and squinted up at Angelina. Jake put a hand under his arm and helped him to sit up. He shook himself free angrily and then groaned, putting a hand to his head.

"Get me out of here," he said through his teeth.

"You had better stay here and wait for Dr Quinn to look at you," Angelina said. "You might have concussion. She won't be too long."

"She? You have a female doctor in this godforsaken place?" He pulled a hankerchief from his top pocket and dabbed at his nose and mouth. "And who's that animal who hit me?"

"Hank Lawson," she told him. "My fiancé."

"You can't seriously mean to marry that man," he said. "What would your parents think?"

"They're not here to think anything," she replied.

"You don't think they're watching everything you do and wondering what they did so wrong in bringing you up?" Joseph said harshly. "How can you have fallen so low, Angelina?"

"How can you say such things when you know nothing about me?" she retorted. "I haven't even seen you since I was a child! When Mother and Father died, the bank took the house and I had to do the best I could to survive. The last place I wanted to stay was Denver, with memories of them everywhere and their friends avoiding me like the plague."

"So you became a prostitute?" he snapped.

"That's not what I am," she told him. "I serve drinks, cook for Hank, chat to the customers…."

"Well, thank goodness I arrived when I did. We'll have you out of here tomorrow and back to civilisation," Joseph said firmly. "Charlotte and I have plenty of space now Edward and Lucia have gotten married and moved out of the house."

Angelina's mouth fell open.

"Until you're twenty-one, you're our responsibility," he added.

"Well, where were you six months ago, when your brother died?" she demanded. "You didn't even come to the funeral! You have no right to suddenly turn up out of the blue and pretend guardianship."

"The court would say different," Joseph said. "You're only nineteen years old; a child still."

"I most certainly am not!" she fumed. "I'm to be married in less than four weeks."

Joseph opened his mouth to protest some more, but then sank back, his hand to his head, the colour draining from his face.

"Oh dear, I don't feel so good."

"The doctor will be here soon," Angelina said. She backed away from him and sat down at the nearest table, leaving Jake to tend to him until Michaela arrived on horseback with George. Then she explained briefly what had happened before preparing to leave.

"You're not going?" Michaela exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm going. I haven't even seen the man since I was a child and he just barged in upsetting everyone. I'm going home. I'm sure George and Jake will help move him if necessary."

Both men nodded at this.

"I'll see you home first," Jake said.

"There's no need," Angelina told him.

"Yeah, there is. If anything were to happen to you, Hank'd blame me; I don't want him going for me again after the last time."

"Alright," she agreed.

Jake promised he would be back shortly to deal with Joseph and then accompanied Angelina to the barn to get Blue, quickly saddling his own horse. Then he rode with her through town towards the house. As they left the last few buildings and trotted into pitch darkness, clouds darkening the sky, Angelina felt glad of his company.

"You sure you'll be alright with him?" he asked gruffly at one point.

"Of course I'll be alright," she said.

"Maybe you oughta think about staying in town tonight," Jake added.

"Where? At the saloon? Or the clinic? Hank will be waiting for me."

"Yeah, waiting and mad."

"He'll be fine." As the house came into view Angelina could see the front windows were lit and Hank's silhouette was visible on the porch. He was sitting on the steps and as they drew closer she noticed he had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. It was the first time Angelina had known him smoke since the fire.

"Maybe I better hang around," Jake said, hesitating by the gate. "He's drinking, that ain't a good sign."

"There's no need. Please, go back to the saloon. Michaela may want some help moving my uncle."

"Are you sure? Temper and whiskey don't mix too well with Hank," Jake said doubtfully.

"Go. I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"Alright. Goodnight." Jake turned his horse and set off back into town. Angelina unsaddled Blue and released her into the corral before she walked up to the house.