Chapter Three
Seated at a table in Grace's café on the lazy Wednesday morning Aingelina stared at the meal before her. She hadn't seen a meal this delectable since she'd run from home. Picking up her fork she heeded Dr Mike's admonition and made sure she took small bites, chewing thoroughly. Across the table from her Dr Mike and Grace sat, observing her and chatting about the events of the weekend that had been missed by the clinic-ridden patient.
"Of course after church we all have a picnic in the clearing. It's very nice, laid-back and relaxed. But I guess most Sundays are," Grace smiled. "But it's good that you're up and about now. You can join us on Saturday for the town dance!"
"Oh I don't think she'll be up to dancing just yet," Dr Mike said pointedly meeting Aingelina's eyes.
"I know, nothing strenuous for another two weeks. But I can watch, can't I? Listen to the music from a nice safe seat somewhere?"
The three women smiled. Aingelina had found another friend in Grace, a kind heart and a welcome smile. Though Dr Mike was the only one who knew her past, Aingelina was sure that Grace would have a place in her heart as much as the kind doctor. Chatting for a little while longer Aingelina finished what she could of her meal. Dr Mike had been called back to the clinic by someone with a feverish child. Full from her meal she stood and brought her dishes to the sink to wash them for Grace while she tended another customer.
"You didn't have to do that!" she said as she saw what Aingelina was doing. "Dr Mike won't be happy if she knows you did some work."
"I would hardly call washing a dish work. And besides," she smiled. "Dr Mike doesn't have to know." Grace shook her head but couldn't hide her smile. "How do I get to Robert E's?"
Giving her directions Grace watched her until she could see her no more. 'What a sweet woman,' she thought to herself.
Aingelina approached the blacksmith shop and her eyes were drawn to a lone horse penned up in the corner. "Charlie!" she breathed. Stopping at the fence she unlatched the gate and slipped inside, latching it once more behind her. Hearing the noise and smelling her scent Charlie walked over, nudging his nose into her shoulder playfully, greeting his mistress. "Oh Charlie," she whispered. "How have you been old friend? I've missed you. Did you miss me?" Charlie whinnied and bobbed his head before placing it gently on her shoulder once more.
Hearing the whinny of the horse Robert E turned and saw someone in brown pants and a white shirt, long black hair falling past the waist, standing next to the horse that had almost bitten him on more than one occasion. "Hey! You there! Get out of there before he bites you!" he yelled. When the person turned to face him he recognized her as the woman Grace had described. She'd been right; the woman was beautiful. "You must be his owner. I'm Robert E. You've got one tempermental horse there. Nearly took off my hand the first time I tried to get at him."
Aingelina smiled. "Oh he's just a little cranky at being penned up. I usually let him wander free to come and go as he pleases." Walking over to the fence where Robert E stood she extended her hand. "You must be Robert E."
"Yes'm. This is my blacksmith shop. I noticed his one shoe is out of shape, you'll want to get that fixed before you try to ride him again."
Surprised she looked down to his hooves and located the one he was talking about. "Oh Charlie, why didn't you tell me?" Robert E gave a strange look to the woman. He'd heard of taking to your horse but never asking it a question. His look changed to incredulity when the horse whinnied and stamped his bad shoe onto the ground, tossing his head. Aingelina clucked at her horse. "Always trying to take care of me aren't you boy?" Charlie snorted and put his head onto her shoulder. Reaching up to stroke his jaw she smiled. "Well now it's my turn to take care of you, friend." Kissing the side of his face she left the pen and took a handful of oats from a bucket sitting next to the wall near a row of horseshoes. Stroking his neck she fed him the oats while turning her head to speak to Robert E. "Would you repair his shoe for me, Robert E? I have the money in my saddlebags if you'll just show them to me."
Still in staring at her he blinked and shook his head. "Uh, yeah... yeah I have it over here." Turning away he came back seconds later with her bags, holding them out for her to take. Smiling at him Aingelina reached out, taking the bags from him, wincing as she put her chest muscles to work. Rifling through them for a moment she checked that everything was there and pulled out a few five-dollar bills, handing them to Robert E. "That's too much," he protested.
Aingelina shook her head with a small smile. "You've kept Charlie here for two weeks, you're going to re-shoe him, and I don't know how much longer I'll need him kept here. It's just about right I'd say." Putting a few more bills into her pocket she handed the bags back to Robert E. "I'll be back for those later." Nodding to him she walked out of his shop, heading towards the store. It was a short walk there and as she entered Aingelina saw two men lounging around, talking amongst themselves. A woman with fire red hair was standing, folding some material on to a wooden bolt and another woman in a faded sunbonnet was placing an order with an older man behind the counter. As she crossed the threshold every pair of eyes turned to her, conversations silenced as the watched her. Quickly the one woman collected her order, paid, and fled the store.
"Can I help you?" the older man said, his tone annoyed and clipped.
"Yes I need to make a few purchase's. Some clothes and a few other things."
"Well now, I can't sell mans clothes to no gal."
"Loren!" the red haired woman cried as she hurried over to Aingelina's side. "Goodness! Come with me, I'll help you find something."
As she was moved over to the clothing section of the store one of the men called out to her. "Better get the green shirt," he said pointing to the shirt on display in the men's clothes. "Goes better with your eyes." The two men with him laughed at his snide comment.
The woman opened her mouth to scold him as they passed the two men but Aingelina beat her to a response. "Actually you'd better be the one to get it," she told him with a teasing air as she fingered a hole on his sleeve. "You look like you need it more than I do." Tossing him a smirk she continued on towards the dresses with the red haired woman leading the way. Behind them she heard the other two men snicker at the third, his blue eyes blazing that she had bested him with her words. Ignoring them she looked over the dresses and, seeing nothing she really cared for, turned to the woman standing with her. "I'd really like something simple. A plain skirt and shirttail perhaps?"
"Of course. We have a skirt here and the shirttails are over here." Helping her choose her clothing the woman introduced herself. "I'm Dorothy, I run the Gazette over in the telegraph office. Don't you pay any mind to Loren or Hank, Jake either, they're just trying to get your dander up."
"Oh don't worry about me. It'll take a lot more than a few comments to get me upset. These will do fine," she said, pointing to the clothes she'd chosen. "Do you carry bullets?" Though she made an odd face Dorothy nodded and led her back over to the main counter. Going behind it she produced a box of bullets. "Two boxes, please, and a nickels worth of your licorice wrapped up with a bow."
Filling the order while Loren added it up Dorothy wondered what she needed the bullets for. This was a strange woman that much was certain. She acted like a woman, walked like one too, yet she could fight like a man. Glancing at Loren's number she said, "That comes to eight oh five."
"Cash only," Loren threw in, earning him a look of distaste from Dorothy.
Smiling at the both of them Aingelina pulled two fives from her pocket and put them on the counter. Pointing to a small hairdad she said, "Why don't you throw that in and we'll call it even?" Gathering her purchases she nodded to Loren and looked to Dorothy. "Have a nice day." Slipping from the store she left them to their gossip and made her way back to the blacksmith shop to claim her saddlebags before heading back to the clinic. She was exhausted from her first sojourn into the world and by the time she reached the clinic her chest was burning with pain again. Scolded by Dr Mike she went upstairs and fell to sleep, still wearing her pants and boots.
When she awoke the room was dark, the moon shining in through the window offering a little light. Stretching carefully Aingelina got out of the bed and opened the doors that led to the patio. Night had fallen and the town was aglow with lanterns and candles. Looking down she saw that the saloon was in full swing and, with a frown of disgust, she saw that by looking straight across she could see right into one of the whores rooms. About to turn away the glint of steel caught her attention. Looking closely she saw that the man had pulled a knife of the whore and though she was trying to get away from him she had nowhere to go. The young girl was going to be killed and no one would hear her scream over the noise from below. Without stopping to think about the consequences Aingelina grabbed her hunting blade and pistol, putting both into the back of her waistband, and fled the room. Knowing they wouldn't let her through the front door she slipped around the back of the saloon and found a back door that was open. With racing feet she climbed the stairs and opened the door to the room she had seen from across the street.
"Hey there!" she called as she entered the room, pulling the man off the whore. She could see that the man had already taken a swipe at the whore, her arm bleeding profusely as she held it close to her body, tears of pain and fear streaming from her eyes. "Now that's not nice."
With a lightening fast right hook she knocked him to the floor. Grabbing him before he had a chance to get steady on his feet she threw him into the hallway. Gasping from the pain in her chest Aingelina knew she couldn't stop. If he had a chance to recover she didn't have the strength to win that fight. In the hallway she kicked him, knocking him down the stairs into the saloon below. Going after the bastard she emerged into the saloon and saw the crowds springing to their feet at the sight of the man stumbling to get upright again. She let loose another right hook and he crashed into the bar but used its support to stay upright.
"She may be a whore but she is still a human being, you damn bastard!" she spat at the man.
Behind Aingelina the whore had followed them into the room, still holding her arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Hank saw his girl bleeding and realized the man who'd paid for her time must have taken a knife to her. Whores or not, no one harmed his girls like that. From behind the counter he grabbed his rifle and moved to aim it at the man. He had recovered from her blow and moved toward Aingelina hitting her with a quick jab from his fist. Though Hank saw and heard the fist connect with her jaw she stayed upright, taking a step back to regain her balance she bumped into Hank who grabbed her arm to help steady her. Even as he aimed his rifle she drew her pistol from behind her back and pointed it at his chest, her aim steady and true.
"No body takes a knife to one of my girls!" Hank yelled at the man. "Get the hell out of my saloon!"
Seeing the two guns pointed at him the man turned and fled. 'Not a moment too soon,' Aingelina thought as she lowered her weapon, her body beginning to shake with the burning pain in her chest. Unable to stand she fell only to be caught up in someone's arms. From the distance she heard a man yelling for someone to get Dr Mike and felt herself being carried out into the cool night air. There was a crashing noise, like a door being kicked open and Aingelina was laid down on a table. A man's face swam above hers, his long blond curls sweeping against her cheek and his blue eyes peering down at her. She knew him but couldn't think of his name. What was his name? His scruffy mouth was moving but she couldn't hear what he was saying over the rush in her ears. As she watched him a blackness over took her and she welcomed its peace.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Where the hell is she!?!" Hank yelled, pacing the room of the clinic.
Aingelina was passed out on the table having succumbed to the pain in her chest. Claire, his whore who'd been hurt, was sitting on one of the chair, crying as she held her arm to her chest. They'd been waiting for Dr Mike for almost half an hour now. Hank didn't know what to do. His girls were taking care of the saloon so he wasn't really worried about that. It was Aingelina that he was worried about. He'd be damned if she died saving one of his girls. How she knew Claire was in trouble he didn't know yet, all he'd been able to get from the girl was that she saved her life. Ready to yell out of frustration he saw a horse galloped past the window, stopping at the clinic and a rider dismounted. Dr Mike rushed into the clinic, tossing her coat off her shoulders and onto the floor and moved to Aingelina's side.
"What happened!?!"
"She was in a fight," Hank offered. "Saved one of my girls from some bastard with a knife."
Looking up Dr Mike noticed Claire for the first time. She saw the wounded arm and knew that Aingelina took precedence. But with a wounded arm it would be impossible for the girl to help. "Hank, I need your help." Hank nodded and stepped forward. "Very carefully, help me get her shirt off." Working together the two managed to unbutton and slip of the bloodied shirt. Hank saw the blood spreading over her bandaged chest and grimaced while Micheala cut away enough of the bandage to expose the wound and nothing more. Working quickly she cleaned away the blood and examined the wound. "Some of the stitches had torn, I'll have to redo them. Wash your hands in that basin over there. Then come hold this over her mouth. Use one drop of Ether every minute. She's already unconscious so we don't need to use a lot."
Sleeves rolled up and his hands washed Hank stood by Aingelina while Michaela washed her hands. He looked down at her as he squeezed a drop of Ether onto the cloth and Hank waited for Micheala to begin. In silence she worked, pulling out a few of the stitches and replacing them, the skin around them an angry red hew. When she had finished Micheala put a bandage around the wound. "I need you to sit her up and hold her steady so that I can get the bandages around her. Be very careful."
Hank lifted Aingelina into a sitting position and watched as Micheala cut away the old bandages leaving her skin bare and her chest exposed. Though he did look at her breasts it was her back that held his attention. Fading bruises, some almost gone while others were a little fresher, were splotched all over her back but beneath the colors were criss-crossed white lines. It almost looked like...
"She was whipped?" Hank asked, his brow furrowed. "What the hell did she do to get whipped?"
Micheala looked up from her bandages, eyes wide. She was sure that he would have focused on the front of her body, not the back; and she didn't know which would embarrass Aingelina more. "Yes. She was whipped."
Turning back to her task she would go no farther to answer his second question. It wasn't her place to give out that information. A few moments later she was bandaged and Micheala asked Hank to carry Aingelina up to her room while she tended to Claire. Picking the woman up in his arms Hank climbed the stairs to the recovery room. Sitting her in the bed she pulled the pistol and hunting knife from her waist and tossed them onto the table next to the bed. The covers already pulled back Hank laid her down and pulled the blanket back over her, tucking it in under her sides, cocooning her in the bed. With her safely tucked away in the bed he turned to put the knife and gun into her saddlebags that had been dumped in the corner. Opening the one he saw the two boxes of bullets and put the knife and gun into that bag. Out of curiosity he opened the other bag and saw all sorts of bills rolled into a wad sitting atop a piece of paper with handwriting. Pulling out the paper he opened it and began to read.
'Dear Aingel;'
'I got your letter and of course I'll help you out. Meet me at the edge of town; I'll have Charlie waiting with some supplies. It won't be much but I'm sure you can get more once you're under way. Oh God, Aingel, I can't tell you how much I'm going to miss you, but I'll be happy knowing that you've escaped the torment your Pa and brothers put you through. Aingel, I've known you since the day we met in the schoolyard when we were six years old. You remember that? When Tommy Haskins pulled my braid and you shoved him? I still smile when I think about that day. You were my Guardian Aingel, but who guarded you from your own kin? But now you're leaving and I'll celebrate it for you. I'll go into town and I'll drink a glass of whiskey for you, even though I hate the stuff, and I'll smile and laugh because only I'll know that you've escaped.'
'I'll miss you Aingel, so much, but I'll be glad you're gone. Don't ever come back, you hear me, never come back. Go to Canada, get lost somewhere and live your life making new memories, happy memories. You deserve them more than anyone else I know. You know how we loved to make wishes when we saw a star? Well right now I only have two wishes in my heart. One of them is more of a regret than a wish. I wish you had screamed the day your Pa whipped you. I wish that because then we could have come and rescued you from that monster before now. I'd have had my Johnny's Pa throw him in jail forever. But I guess no one can do anything about that one. My other wish, this is something I wish with all my heart and soul. I'll wish it on every star I see. I wish that you find peace. True peace. A man who'll love you, who'll protect you, and who'll give you the family you never had. That's what I wish for you, Aingel. That's what you deserve.'
'I have to hurry and put this in the tree but I'll be waiting at the edge of town, Charlie and me will be waiting so you can ride away and never come back. I love you Aingelina Bowry, you're the best friend a woman could ever wish for.'
'Love Kathy'
Folding the letter Hank put it back where he had found it. All his facts about her made sense now. Why she had run; the whip marks on her back, her strength. Everything. Standing Hank turned to leave when one of the doors flapped in the wind against the wall. Crossing to it he was about to close it when he looked across the street and saw straight into the room Claire used. "So that's how she knew," he said aloud.
"Knew what, Hank?"
Turning he saw Micheala as entered the room and put her hand to the sleeping Aingelina's forehead. "How she saw that Claire was in trouble. You can see right into the room from this spot."
Moving to stand next to him she looked across the street and saw the lit room. "Oh! I never noticed that before."
"Me either." Hank shut the doors and looked at the sleeping woman. "Listen, Micheala, lets keep this between us, okay? She don't need to know that I helped with the operation and I'll make sure Claire don't say a thing."
Micheala met his eyes and nodded. This man never ceased to amaze her. Just when she thought she had him figured out he pulled another trick out of his hat like a magician. Settling back into a chair she soon fell asleep waiting for her patient to wake up.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was early Friday afternoon before Dr Mike would allow Aingelina out of the clinic again. After a brief stop by Robert E's to see Charlie she made her way to the saloon. Walking through the double doors she saw that it was relatively empty, only a few patrons so far. Stopping at the bar Aingelina helped herself to a glass of whiskey from the bottle on the bar. Slamming it back she grimaced as it burned down the back of her throat.
"You owe me for that."
Lifting her gaze from the empty glass to Hank as he emerged from a room behind the edge of the bar she shook her head. "I paid for a whole bottle and only got one glass," she reminded him. "You owe me."
Hank grinned. "That I do. Take the bottle, I don't like owing anybody."
"No thanks. I'll just keep it here. Dr Mike'd tan my hide if I brought this back to the clinic with me." Looking around she asked, "Where's Claire?"
"Doing her job."
Nodding Aingelina tossed a few dollars onto the bar. "When she's done she's mine for the day." Re-corking the bottle she put it on the bar, grabbed a deck of cards from the shelf next to it, and went to sit at one of the tables. Hanks watched as she split the deck, shuffling a little clumsily, with the hands of a person who had seen but never done, before laying some cards down face down and some face up. With the rest of the deck in her hands he watched as she played some sort of game he didn't know. Sitting down across from her he watched. "It's a game for one person to play. No betting involved, you wouldn't be interested."
"Show me."
Glancing at him he could see the amusement in her eyes and saw the slow grin appear on her lips. "You start by shuffling the deck. Lay down seven rows of one card each; face down. Then put down another card in the six rows left, then five then four, three, two, and one. Flip over the first card put one more card on each row; face up. Now take the cards you have in your hand and count out three." Step by step Aingelina explained the game of Solitaire to Hank while she waited for Claire. A man emerged from the stairwell and she looked up to see Claire following him out into the saloon. Seeing Aingelina, the young girl approached, her face lighting up. When the girl had reached the table where she and Hank were seated Aingelina took one breath and her nose was over powered by the girl's stench of sweat, grime, sex, and whiskey. "Damn!" she said, putting a hand over her mouth and nose. Aingelina saw Hank raise an amused eyebrow but turned her attention toward Claire. "I've bought your time for a few hours. Go wash up, put on some decent clothes, and meet me back here." Claire opened her mouth to say something but Aingelina silenced her. "Don't question me, just go." Aingelina watched the girl scurry off to the her room, to do as she was ordered, before turning her attention back to Hank, and amused grin on his face. "Something funny?"
Rocking back onto the hind legs of his chair Hank chuckled. "You ain't like a normal gal, are you?"
"Nope."
Still grinning he got up to service a man that entered the bar. While he was at the bar Claire emerged in a proper shirt and skirt. Nodding to her Aingelina got up from her seat and left the bar without a backward glance. Leading the way to the clearing Aingelina stopped and turned to face her student. Reaching out a hand she slapped the girls cheek just enough to leave a small sting. "You need to learn how to defend yourself. If you're going to whore yourself then you have got to learn how to fight off the scum that will use you. Do you understand?" Claire nodded, wide-eyed and speechless. "Now, I want you to hit me as hard as you can, right here on my cheek. I want you to keep trying until you finally hit me."
Taking a deep breath Claire balled up one of her fists and swung at Aingelina. Stepping back just in time she avoided the small fist and reached out to slap the girl's cheek again. Holding her cheek for a moment Claire balled her fist again when Aingelina nodded to her and swung. Once more she was slapped on the cheek as her fist missed its target. Again and again they did this until Claire's cheek was red and she was frustrated. "What is the point of this!?! You keep moving so I can't hit you! And you keep hitting me!"
"That is the point Claire. If someone is attacking you they're not going to stand there and let you hit them. They're going to keep hitting you until you stop fighting them." Aingelina saw the point hit home and realization came into Claire's eyes. "Now hit my hand, right here in my palm as hard as you can." Holding up her hand for Claire to hit it she winced when contact was made, irritating her chest with the motion. "Okay, you've got a bit of strength in you. First you need to build that up. I want you to work, do whatever you have to, to build your muscles. Next I want you to work on your swing. You need to be quick, you can't draw your arm back so far, they'll see that, and know you're trying to hit them, it gives them time to move. Keep your fists up here, like this," she moved the girl's hands up near her face. "Good, now that does two things. First it protects your face. If I'm going to try and hit you I'll hit your arm instead of your face. Second it keeps you ready. Real quick, as fast as you can punch my hand."
Claire let a fist fly and hit Aingelina's hand. "Good. Now work on that next, the faster you can move the less time he'll have to try and hit you." Aingelina stood up and took Claire's hands in hers. "Now what I'm going to show you next will really hurt the man you're fighting. It's a last resort, don't uses it if you don't have to because not only will it really hurt them man it will make him madder than hell once he's recovered." Thinking back to the training days with her brother Aingelina remembered all the spots he'd told her about. "The most sensitive area on a mans body is his pecker."
Claire smiled. "That's for sure."
"Well it's also the place that will cause him the most pain. There's quite a few things you can do to make it hurt."
From the porch at the saloon Hank watched as Claire tried to hit Aingelina, and then begin hitting her hands. When she grabbed Claire's shoulders and slowly put a knee to her crotch he knew exactly what she was telling the whore. 'So she fight's dirty, too,' he thought to himself. Called back inside to service a customer Hank was kept busy until the women returned several hours later, falling in through the doors, laughing with each other over something. Catching Claire's eyes he motioned for her to get back to work. With a smile Claire said goodbye and headed up the stairs looking happier than Hank had seen her in a long time. Normally a quiet, shy girl Hank was surprised to see her grab one of the other girls, dragging her up the stairs, whispering excitedly as they went. "Unless you want a drink I got customers," he glared at Aingelina as she leaned against the bar with a smile on her face. With a playful wink she sauntered out of the bar and headed toward the café to see Grace. Biting back a grin he kept his scowl in place and headed over to one of the poker tables.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair still damp from her bath Aingelina carefully combed through the locks before braiding them tightly to her head in a style of one of the girls at the dance hall had shown her. Cecilia had called it a 'French woman's braid'. Aingelina thought it was beautiful and had gotten adept at styling her hair in that manner, it was different form everyone else and she liked it. Finishing the braid she left a few inches loose at the bottom and tied a string around to keep it in place. Tonight she felt like a woman, it was a feeling she had rarely gotten the chance to feel. Not like a slave to her family, not like a whipping girl, not like a woman acting like a man, but a woman through and through. In her shirt and skirt, petticoats and all, she looked, felt and smelled like a woman. Smiling she descended the stairs to meet Dr Mike. Aingelina liked the way it felt to be a woman without worrying that someone would try to take advantage of her..
"Why Aingelina! You look positively beautiful tonight!"
Smiling at her friend Aingelina could feel a slight blush coming to her cheeks. Compliments had stopped when she was six years old. She had forgotten how good it felt to hear them. "Thank you, Dr Mike."
"Aingelina, how did you do your hair like that? It looks so intricate and difficult," Colleen asked as she saw the woman's hair.
"It is a little difficult to learn but not to do once you have learned it. I could show you if you like," she offered.
"Well then, shall we go?"
As a group, Sully, Michaela, Colleen, Andrew, Brian, and Katie, they crossed the bridge to the dance floor where the entire town was gathered, party already in full swing. As she walked with the family Aingelina could feel the stares and hear the whispers of the people they passed. Holding her head high she knew she had nothing to be ashamed of and she'd be damned if she let anyone think otherwise. While Colleen and Andrew escaped to a private corner and Brian ran off to find his friends the three remaining adults settled down under a large tree with Katie. Sitting in her Pa's lap Katie clapped and moved her body to the music, not a dance per say but the way she connected to the music as it beat within her heart. Watching the young girl Aingelina knew how she felt, the music beating within her own blood as well. When a slow dance began Sully held his hands out to Michaela and the headed out to the dance floor, leaving Katie in Aingelina's care. Climbing into her lap, sucking on the piece of licorice Aingelina had bought for her Katie leaned back, her head hitting the painful wound. Hissing quietly at the pain she shifted the young girl in her arms so that her head rested on Aingelina's shoulder instead of her chest. Another slow song began and, knowing it, Aingelina began to sing the words softly to Katie, the young girl sitting spell bound in her arms, listening to the song.
"That was beautiful," a man said as she finished the song. Startled Aingelina jumped a little and looked around. There, on a bench less than a few feet away sat a man with a beard and dark hair. She didn't recognize him but he seemed to know her. "You have a beautiful voice Aingelina. I'm sorry, I've probably startled you; my name is Timothy."
"Do you know me?" she asked him, curious as to how he knew her name.
"No, not personally. I've heard about you from Loren and I heard you speaking with Dr Mike and Sully just now. I was wrong of me to listen in but I've heard so many conflicting stories about you I didn't know what to think."
"And now that you've heard me speaking with Dr Mike you've come to a conclusion?"
Timothy smiled. "I've come to the conclusion that you seem like a person I'd like to get to know better."
Her wariness seemed to evaporate when his smile appeared. Something in her told Aingelina to trust this man sitting near them. "Then perhaps you and I shall have to make the time to get to know one another. It would be a waste to dismiss such an honest conclusion."
"Yes it would," he laughed. "I've not heard your voice in church." It wasn't a question nor was it a condemnation. He simply stated a fact, his kind voice and honest words making it impossible for Aingelina to take offense.
"No, I don't go to church."
Timothy's reply was cut off when the dancing couple returned. Laughing the sat down again and noticed the confusion on Timothy's face and the seriousness of Aingelina's. "Is everything all right?" Dr. Mike asked, placing a gentle hand on the woman's arm.
"Yes, I'm just a little tired. I think I'll walk back to the clinic."
"Are you in pain? I'll walk back with you."
"No!" Aingelina paused and chose her words carefully. "I'm fine, I just feel a headache coming on and I wanted to get away from the noise is all. I'll be fine."
"Aingelina, would you mind walking me back to the store since you are heading that way yourself? I'm tired and I think I would like to get some rest."
As he stood Aingelina noticed for the first time that he looked straight ahead and held a long stick in his hand. 'He's blind!' she realized. "Of course Timothy, I am going that way after all." Taking his hand in her arm she said goodnight to her companions and the two were off, ambling at a nice slow pace. Once they were a fair distance from the group she spoke again. "You're not really tired are you?" she asked him.
"What makes you ask that?" he replied, neither confirming nor denying her suspicions.
"You were enjoying the music, sitting there on your bench. I doubt you would have left had I not been so ready to go."
Timothy laughed a hearty sound that made Aingelina smile in return. She had been right. "No, I wouldn't have left. But I did want to finish our conversation. We were interrupted at a most interesting moment. Wold you join me for a cup of coffee. You'd have to make it of course, but I'm sure Grace wouldn't mind." Timothy could hear her hesitate, feel the sudden tenseness in her arm, but she agreed and they waked over to the café. Once the coffee was made Aingelina joined him at the table and they sat in silence for a moment before he spoke. "May I ask you why you do not go to church? Is it that you simply do not believe in God?"
Sighing Aingelina put her tin on the table, wrapping her hands around its comforting warmth. "I do believe in God. I'm rather angry with him right now, but I do believe that he exists. No, the reason I do not go to church is because I do not believe in the men that lead the congregation." She saw him start at her words but kept speaking. "In the town I grew up in I have known three Reverends. The first was Reverend Richard Brooke. He was an old man, already established with the church since before I was born. When my father was building his dance hall Brooke was brazen and outspoken against it, telling the entire town that it was the work of the devil to display females the way Pa planned to. The night the dance hall opened he was there, standing at the door, yelling at the men who entered, telling them that they would go to hell for their sins. That night he went home with one of the dancers on his arm. Every night he would yell at the men who entered and then go home with a dancing girl on his arm until the day he died in her arms."
"The second Reverend, he replaced Brooke, was named Jason Smithton. From the day he got there until the night he was run over by a wagon he drank every night at the dance hall, going home drunker than a skunk. When he was sober he was an agreeable man so long as you did not cross him. If you dared to correct him over the littlest of matters, even if he was in the wrong, you were condemned as a sinner for the first reason he could find. Every Sunday he would pas the collection plate demanding more money from the poorest of people. If they could not pay he would not visit them, would not pray for them, and would not give them their last rights. Unless you cold fill his wallet he wanted nothing to do with you."
"But the worst one yet is the one that still resides there as Preacher. His name is Geoffrey Baker. Though he did not openly support Pa's business so long as the hefty contributions were made to the collection plate he kept his mouth shut about it. He'd been there for about three months when my father invited him to dine with us at our house. Though my father ran a dance hall and kept them on as whores he was a respected man in the community. That night Baker sat at our dining room table, watching and nodding his approval while my father beat me because I had removed the bottle of whiskey from the table before he was finished with it. When Pa was finally done he sat down and nodded to Baker. He then looked at me and quoted 'Spare the rod spoil the child'. That was the last time I ever went to a church. So long as men like that are allowed to shepherd the congregation I will not set foot in their church."
Sitting in his chair, listening to her describe the men of that church, Timothy's face grew grave, his heart wrenching that men of God were capable of doing such things. He knew they existed, he'd heard the tales before, but he'd never heard them from a first hand witness, only in whispered stories. "I'm glad that these men haven't turned you away from God. I wish I could tell you that that type of men are given their just dues but that is something only the Lord can decide. I can tell you that they are few and far between and most importantly that the Revered of our church is not like them."
"I'm sorry Timothy, I find that difficult to believe."
"Aingelina, you've told me something of your past and now I want to tell you something of mine." He smiled at her for a moment, gathering his words together in his mind. "I was not always the man you see before you. There was a time in my life that I was a gambler. I drank, smoked and gambled with my money and my life. I was a gambler who was very good at what I did. But I changed. I came to realize that there was something else I could do with my life. Something that would give to me as much as I gave to others." Reaching out Timothy took her hand in his, holding tightly yet with tenderness and care. "Aingelina, I'm the man who shepherds this congregation. I'm the Reverend of Colorado Springs."
Staring at him she didn't know what to say. This man, Timothy, was a man that she had felt she could trust; a man that she had thought could be a friend. Now, sitting alone with him in an empty café she wondered at how quickly he, a Reverend, was able to bestow that feeling within her. She had known him less than one day and yet she trusted him implicitly. Never in all her life had there been a man she had trusted, and yet here she sat. Shaking her head Aingelina wondered at this town she had come to. It seemed that everyday someone in this town altered the view of life and people that she had held all her life. "Very well then Timothy. I will give your church a try. From what I've seen the Reverend here is a good man."
"He's glad to hear you say that," Timothy smiled. His face grew serious again and he kept his grip on her hand. "If you ever want to talk, about anything, I'm never far away and I would welcome a visit at any hour."
"Thank you," Aingelina said with a kind smile that he could hear in her voice.
"Though I would have stayed the truth is I am rather tired. Would you walk with me to the store? I live there with Loren."
Getting up she took his hand once more and they walked to his door, chatting like old friends, before saying goodnight. Once the door was shut safely behind him Aingelina turned and headed back toward the clinic. She could hear the music as she walked and her feet began to move in time with it, dancing her way down the middle of the dirt-paved street. When the song ended she gave a slight curtsy and laughed at herself. From the side of the road she heard clapping and turned to see Hank sitting on the porch rail, his hands clapping slowing, teasing and mocking her. "Nice, maybe you should come dance on my bar, I'm sure the men would pay to see that."
Though her temper flared at his comment she realized he was goading her and refused to rise to his bait. Instead she teased him back. "Or perhaps you're too much of a coward to try it for yourself," she replied, waving her arm toward the music's origin. His snide grin still on his face, eyebrow raised in amusement, Hank dropped onto the street with ease and strode toward her. As the music began once more, a fast country tune, he grabbed her hand, spinning her around under his arm. Moving to the tune in a dance she didn't know Hank led her around the street, his feet moving from memory while his hands and arms directed her with light pushes and pulls on her waist. Faster and faster the beat in the music moved through the air, swirling around them until she was dizzy from it. All at once the music shifted to a slow county waltz and Aingelina found herself in his arms, moving in a square as the danced in the street. Her hand on his arm, his on her waist, and their hands joined they danced to the soft music playing under the star studded sky.
Looking up at him she saw a smile, honest and true, playing over his mouth. There was no snideness in it, no acerbity, no bitterness. Just a smile shining clear through to his blue eyes that wrinkled with contained laughter. Aingelina knew she was seeing another side to the man everyone knew as the saloonkeeper, a side she doubted anyone else had ever seen. His hand was light on her waist, but its presence could not be missed, and his other held hers with a gentle touch that seemed out of place with the man she knew him to be. Aingelina's heart knew that there was more to this man than he let on to others, but he kept it buried deep within himself, not letting anyone near the inner parts of his heart and mind making her wonder all the more what he kept there. The music stopped and Hank released her, stepping back from her body, but his eyes never left hers.
"Not so much of a coward as you thought."
Aingelina watched as his grin once more slipped back to its normal place, becoming snide again before her eyes. Without another word he turned away from her and sauntered casually back into the saloon. Her mind racing with curiosity about the man who had held her so gently in his arms as they danced under the stars Aingelina turned and headed into the clinic. With her back to the saloon she did not see the blue eyes peering after her from the smoky window across the street, nor did she see the smile that made one last appearance for the night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The church bell ringing, it's tolling heard for miles, Aingelina hurried down the stairs. She was late. She'd been up so late last night, unable to snuff out the workings of her mind for hours after she had snuffed out the candle at her bedside. Emerging onto the street she finished putting the final pin in her bun and ran toward the church. She could see Timothy standing on the steps, Dr Mike standing with him talking about something. As she crossed the bridge she saw Michaela look toward her and smile, saying one more thing to the blind man on the top step. From the smile that graced his face Aingelina guessed that it was something about her. Nearing the steps she slowed and smoothed her skirt and hair before stepping up the steps to greet her friends. "Good morning Dr Mike, Timothy."
"Good morning, Aingelina," Timothy said, his smile as inviting as the hand he extended to her. "I'm so glad you were able to join us today. I'd better get in there and get ready. Today is an extra special day for me, I want to make sure I give it my best." With a wink to her he moved inside reaching for Loren's arm, the older man had been waiting just inside of the church.
"How are you feeling this morning? Any pain?" Aingelina shook her head and smiled. "Good. I'd love for you to sit with Sully and I, if you'd like that is."
"I'd like that," she said.
Smiling Dr Mike led the way to the seats where her family waited. No sooner were they seated than Katie climbed down from Sully's lap and into Aingelina's, her best friend from the day she had given her the licorice tied with a ribbon. Laughing at their daughter, Sully and Michaela made sure Aingelina didn't mind before allowing Katie to stay in her lap. As Timothy stood before them the crowd silenced and looked to him expectantly. Though his eyes saw nothing Timothy moved his head from side to side as though he were scanning the crowd, a habit even blindness hadn't conquered.
"Good morning everyone, I'm glad you were able to join us on this wonderful morning. I normally would begin by asking one of you to read a scripture from the bible so that we may discuss it but this morning I wish to talk with you about the first scripture I memorized when I went to the seminary. It had always stuck with me as the way I wished to live my life but recently I have thought about the words and the truth behind it and for the first time I realized what it was that Paul was telling the Ephesians in his letter to the Corinthian Congregation. I'm sure some of you will recognize it. 'Love is long-suffering and kind. Love is not jealous, it does not brag, does not get puffed up, does not behave indecently, does not look for its own interests, does not become provoked. It does not keep account of the injury. It does not rejoice over unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.'"
"It's from the first book of Corinthian, chapter thirteen. Last night I got to thinking about the love that one person can show for another. I thought about the way this town pulled together when young Brian Cooper underwent his operation, and how a school was built so that it was the first thing he saw when he awoke."
From his seat in the pew Brian smiled as he remembered the day he'd woken up and saw a brand new school waiting for him.
"And I remember the day when Loren opened his own home to me so that I would be able to continue here as a Preacher. I'm sure we all remember the time Dr Mike almost died while she was trying to keep the rest of us from doing so that time when the town was sick with influenza."
Unseen by the speaker many of the people sitting before him nodded their heads looking to the woman and the man that were mentioned.
"But last night as I was remembering all these things I remembered that there are people out there who never had this love in their life; people who never knew the simple kindness of having someone in their life who would love them unconditionally, without wanting anything in return. I know of one friend..." Timothy shook his head sadly. "My friend had a miserable childhood. I won't go into any of the details but I will tell you that the little girl we took from her guardian a few years back, she had it easy compared to this person. But I can tell you that even with everything my friend went through it has never scarred their heart to the point that they cannot love. My friend has shown me the true meaning of the scriptures I thought I knew as well as I could. 'Love is long suffering...' My friend suffered for more years than I have lived in Colorado Springs. Yet there, in the same sentence, it says that 'love is kind'. Even after all the years of suffering my friend has the kindest heart. How many of us can lay claim to that? For most of us, after one bad day out in the fields or at work here in town, how many can say they don't become irritable, speaking harshly with whoever we meet?"
"'Love... does not keep account of the injury.' How many of us here today have a friend that we no longer speak with because they wronged us in some way? Or how many of us have picked up and moved? Built a fence? Spread gossip about the person who said something bad against us? How do we react when someone has hurt our feelings? Do we let it go, or do we keep it in the back of our minds, holding this person that could be our friend in contempt for the rest of our life? If we have love in our hearts for God if for no one else would we not want to forgive this person? Not hold them to their mistake forever, let it go... love them as God would love them."
"There is a line of the scriptures that I ask each and every one of you to think about, ponder as you go home today. 'Love... bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.' Love never gives up and neither should we. My friend lived with the conditions of their life for two decades, how many of you would be able to last one year, let alone twenty? Think about that the next time that you're having a bad day, think of how much worse that it could be and then rejoice that it isn't. Life is an up and down swing of good and bad. We must endure through the bad and rejoice through the good, for that is life, that is love."
"The last line is three simple words and yet it hold out such a grand promise from our Heavenly Father. Love... never... fails. Never. Love will always prevail no matter the challenge it is given or the battles it fights, love will always be victorious, and so long as we keep it in our hearts and live our lives by it so shall we." In their seats the women of Colorado Springs wiped tears from their eyes and the men fought to keep a clear throat as Timothy drew his sermon to a conclusion. "Now I met someone last night who... I can't think of a word to describe what I heard. Her voice was a beautiful as I would imagine an angels to be. I wish for her to sing our final song so that you too may enjoy the beauty of her voice as I did, but I will leave it up to her to stand before you or not." Pausing Timothy kept his head level, turning it to neither side as he asked, "Will you sing for us?"
Sitting in her seat, Aingelina didn't know what to do. Did she want to sing? Oh yes, more so than she wished to breathe. But to stand before the entire town and sing for them? That was a little more than she felt ready for. As she was trying to make a decision Katie turned around in her lap, raising her eyes to meet Aingelina's. With a whispered voice she said, "Please?" Unable to tell the child no Aingelina laughed softly at her own weakness for the little girl and smiled back at her. "Just for you Katie, because you said 'Please'." Standing she handed Katie to Michaela and moved up the aisle, placing a soft hand on Timothy's arm. "How can I refuse after such a moving sermon? What kind of love would that show to my new friend?"
Smiling at her Timothy moved away carefully to stand against the wall while Aingelina stood before the crowd. She could see them whispering to each other, no doubt passing along the latest bit of gossip that they'd heard. Not bothering to speak to them, not caring what they thought of her Aingelina tried to decide what song she would sing. She didn't know many hymns; most of the songs she knew by heart wouldn't be right to sing in a church. But as she looked to Katie, sitting in the seat she had occupied Aingelina remembered a song her mother had sung to her when she was a little girl. A soft smile spread over her lips as she could hear her mother's voice in her head. With the memory threatening to bring tears to her eyes she knew she had better hurry and sing the song before she was too choked up to do it justice.
"Love is the reason I'm here today,
For no one knows what tomorrow shall bring.
Today is the day I say three words,
And in your heart their truth does ring.
Love is the reason I sing this song,
For you, for me, for God above.
These words that I sing are gentle and true,
A soft song of hope, of joy and of love.
Love is the reason I continue to live,
My heart breaks when I think of your smile.
Living each day as though you were here by my side,
Hand in hand, laughing as we walk each mile.
Love is the reason I'll never give up,
Reaching for the stars shining bright in the sky.
Each night I wonder which it is that you ride,
So I smile at each one as I see it go by.
Love is the reason I plant flowers each spring,
The ones that you love I keep closest to you.
The rose that in the summer blooms as large as your heart,
Shines, as though to greet me, each morning anew.
Love is the reason that I stand here alone,
With only your memories to fill my lonely heart.
Alone in the dawn I trace my fingers across your name,
And I weep for the day on which our paths did part.
Love is the reason I walk on down my path,
Struggling to live each day as though you were here.
And I wait so patiently for I know my time will come,
And then we may laugh, and cry and love, for you will be near."
Her soft voice holding the last note until her breath gave out Aingelina fell silent at last, standing before the people of Colorado Springs, trying to keep the emotions and memories that swelled to the surface at bay; ignoring them was a trick she'd learned many years ago. Moving from her place in front of the group back to her seat she was startled by the tears in the eyes of those she passed. Did they know what this song meant to her? Did they know that it was the one memory of her mother that time had never eroded from her memory? Was it possible that they had imagined the small child who used to sit on her mother's lap, listening to her sing as she brushed her hair before bed each night? No. Those were things she kept too well guarded to have been seen by the people sitting around her. Smiling Aingelina realized that they had seen themselves in her song, that they too had lost someone who meant the world to them, be it mother, father, sibling or friend. On that level, everyone was the same as her. Everyone knew that small section of pain she kept hidden away within her heart for they too had one within their own.
Seated at a table in Grace's café on the lazy Wednesday morning Aingelina stared at the meal before her. She hadn't seen a meal this delectable since she'd run from home. Picking up her fork she heeded Dr Mike's admonition and made sure she took small bites, chewing thoroughly. Across the table from her Dr Mike and Grace sat, observing her and chatting about the events of the weekend that had been missed by the clinic-ridden patient.
"Of course after church we all have a picnic in the clearing. It's very nice, laid-back and relaxed. But I guess most Sundays are," Grace smiled. "But it's good that you're up and about now. You can join us on Saturday for the town dance!"
"Oh I don't think she'll be up to dancing just yet," Dr Mike said pointedly meeting Aingelina's eyes.
"I know, nothing strenuous for another two weeks. But I can watch, can't I? Listen to the music from a nice safe seat somewhere?"
The three women smiled. Aingelina had found another friend in Grace, a kind heart and a welcome smile. Though Dr Mike was the only one who knew her past, Aingelina was sure that Grace would have a place in her heart as much as the kind doctor. Chatting for a little while longer Aingelina finished what she could of her meal. Dr Mike had been called back to the clinic by someone with a feverish child. Full from her meal she stood and brought her dishes to the sink to wash them for Grace while she tended another customer.
"You didn't have to do that!" she said as she saw what Aingelina was doing. "Dr Mike won't be happy if she knows you did some work."
"I would hardly call washing a dish work. And besides," she smiled. "Dr Mike doesn't have to know." Grace shook her head but couldn't hide her smile. "How do I get to Robert E's?"
Giving her directions Grace watched her until she could see her no more. 'What a sweet woman,' she thought to herself.
Aingelina approached the blacksmith shop and her eyes were drawn to a lone horse penned up in the corner. "Charlie!" she breathed. Stopping at the fence she unlatched the gate and slipped inside, latching it once more behind her. Hearing the noise and smelling her scent Charlie walked over, nudging his nose into her shoulder playfully, greeting his mistress. "Oh Charlie," she whispered. "How have you been old friend? I've missed you. Did you miss me?" Charlie whinnied and bobbed his head before placing it gently on her shoulder once more.
Hearing the whinny of the horse Robert E turned and saw someone in brown pants and a white shirt, long black hair falling past the waist, standing next to the horse that had almost bitten him on more than one occasion. "Hey! You there! Get out of there before he bites you!" he yelled. When the person turned to face him he recognized her as the woman Grace had described. She'd been right; the woman was beautiful. "You must be his owner. I'm Robert E. You've got one tempermental horse there. Nearly took off my hand the first time I tried to get at him."
Aingelina smiled. "Oh he's just a little cranky at being penned up. I usually let him wander free to come and go as he pleases." Walking over to the fence where Robert E stood she extended her hand. "You must be Robert E."
"Yes'm. This is my blacksmith shop. I noticed his one shoe is out of shape, you'll want to get that fixed before you try to ride him again."
Surprised she looked down to his hooves and located the one he was talking about. "Oh Charlie, why didn't you tell me?" Robert E gave a strange look to the woman. He'd heard of taking to your horse but never asking it a question. His look changed to incredulity when the horse whinnied and stamped his bad shoe onto the ground, tossing his head. Aingelina clucked at her horse. "Always trying to take care of me aren't you boy?" Charlie snorted and put his head onto her shoulder. Reaching up to stroke his jaw she smiled. "Well now it's my turn to take care of you, friend." Kissing the side of his face she left the pen and took a handful of oats from a bucket sitting next to the wall near a row of horseshoes. Stroking his neck she fed him the oats while turning her head to speak to Robert E. "Would you repair his shoe for me, Robert E? I have the money in my saddlebags if you'll just show them to me."
Still in staring at her he blinked and shook his head. "Uh, yeah... yeah I have it over here." Turning away he came back seconds later with her bags, holding them out for her to take. Smiling at him Aingelina reached out, taking the bags from him, wincing as she put her chest muscles to work. Rifling through them for a moment she checked that everything was there and pulled out a few five-dollar bills, handing them to Robert E. "That's too much," he protested.
Aingelina shook her head with a small smile. "You've kept Charlie here for two weeks, you're going to re-shoe him, and I don't know how much longer I'll need him kept here. It's just about right I'd say." Putting a few more bills into her pocket she handed the bags back to Robert E. "I'll be back for those later." Nodding to him she walked out of his shop, heading towards the store. It was a short walk there and as she entered Aingelina saw two men lounging around, talking amongst themselves. A woman with fire red hair was standing, folding some material on to a wooden bolt and another woman in a faded sunbonnet was placing an order with an older man behind the counter. As she crossed the threshold every pair of eyes turned to her, conversations silenced as the watched her. Quickly the one woman collected her order, paid, and fled the store.
"Can I help you?" the older man said, his tone annoyed and clipped.
"Yes I need to make a few purchase's. Some clothes and a few other things."
"Well now, I can't sell mans clothes to no gal."
"Loren!" the red haired woman cried as she hurried over to Aingelina's side. "Goodness! Come with me, I'll help you find something."
As she was moved over to the clothing section of the store one of the men called out to her. "Better get the green shirt," he said pointing to the shirt on display in the men's clothes. "Goes better with your eyes." The two men with him laughed at his snide comment.
The woman opened her mouth to scold him as they passed the two men but Aingelina beat her to a response. "Actually you'd better be the one to get it," she told him with a teasing air as she fingered a hole on his sleeve. "You look like you need it more than I do." Tossing him a smirk she continued on towards the dresses with the red haired woman leading the way. Behind them she heard the other two men snicker at the third, his blue eyes blazing that she had bested him with her words. Ignoring them she looked over the dresses and, seeing nothing she really cared for, turned to the woman standing with her. "I'd really like something simple. A plain skirt and shirttail perhaps?"
"Of course. We have a skirt here and the shirttails are over here." Helping her choose her clothing the woman introduced herself. "I'm Dorothy, I run the Gazette over in the telegraph office. Don't you pay any mind to Loren or Hank, Jake either, they're just trying to get your dander up."
"Oh don't worry about me. It'll take a lot more than a few comments to get me upset. These will do fine," she said, pointing to the clothes she'd chosen. "Do you carry bullets?" Though she made an odd face Dorothy nodded and led her back over to the main counter. Going behind it she produced a box of bullets. "Two boxes, please, and a nickels worth of your licorice wrapped up with a bow."
Filling the order while Loren added it up Dorothy wondered what she needed the bullets for. This was a strange woman that much was certain. She acted like a woman, walked like one too, yet she could fight like a man. Glancing at Loren's number she said, "That comes to eight oh five."
"Cash only," Loren threw in, earning him a look of distaste from Dorothy.
Smiling at the both of them Aingelina pulled two fives from her pocket and put them on the counter. Pointing to a small hairdad she said, "Why don't you throw that in and we'll call it even?" Gathering her purchases she nodded to Loren and looked to Dorothy. "Have a nice day." Slipping from the store she left them to their gossip and made her way back to the blacksmith shop to claim her saddlebags before heading back to the clinic. She was exhausted from her first sojourn into the world and by the time she reached the clinic her chest was burning with pain again. Scolded by Dr Mike she went upstairs and fell to sleep, still wearing her pants and boots.
When she awoke the room was dark, the moon shining in through the window offering a little light. Stretching carefully Aingelina got out of the bed and opened the doors that led to the patio. Night had fallen and the town was aglow with lanterns and candles. Looking down she saw that the saloon was in full swing and, with a frown of disgust, she saw that by looking straight across she could see right into one of the whores rooms. About to turn away the glint of steel caught her attention. Looking closely she saw that the man had pulled a knife of the whore and though she was trying to get away from him she had nowhere to go. The young girl was going to be killed and no one would hear her scream over the noise from below. Without stopping to think about the consequences Aingelina grabbed her hunting blade and pistol, putting both into the back of her waistband, and fled the room. Knowing they wouldn't let her through the front door she slipped around the back of the saloon and found a back door that was open. With racing feet she climbed the stairs and opened the door to the room she had seen from across the street.
"Hey there!" she called as she entered the room, pulling the man off the whore. She could see that the man had already taken a swipe at the whore, her arm bleeding profusely as she held it close to her body, tears of pain and fear streaming from her eyes. "Now that's not nice."
With a lightening fast right hook she knocked him to the floor. Grabbing him before he had a chance to get steady on his feet she threw him into the hallway. Gasping from the pain in her chest Aingelina knew she couldn't stop. If he had a chance to recover she didn't have the strength to win that fight. In the hallway she kicked him, knocking him down the stairs into the saloon below. Going after the bastard she emerged into the saloon and saw the crowds springing to their feet at the sight of the man stumbling to get upright again. She let loose another right hook and he crashed into the bar but used its support to stay upright.
"She may be a whore but she is still a human being, you damn bastard!" she spat at the man.
Behind Aingelina the whore had followed them into the room, still holding her arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Hank saw his girl bleeding and realized the man who'd paid for her time must have taken a knife to her. Whores or not, no one harmed his girls like that. From behind the counter he grabbed his rifle and moved to aim it at the man. He had recovered from her blow and moved toward Aingelina hitting her with a quick jab from his fist. Though Hank saw and heard the fist connect with her jaw she stayed upright, taking a step back to regain her balance she bumped into Hank who grabbed her arm to help steady her. Even as he aimed his rifle she drew her pistol from behind her back and pointed it at his chest, her aim steady and true.
"No body takes a knife to one of my girls!" Hank yelled at the man. "Get the hell out of my saloon!"
Seeing the two guns pointed at him the man turned and fled. 'Not a moment too soon,' Aingelina thought as she lowered her weapon, her body beginning to shake with the burning pain in her chest. Unable to stand she fell only to be caught up in someone's arms. From the distance she heard a man yelling for someone to get Dr Mike and felt herself being carried out into the cool night air. There was a crashing noise, like a door being kicked open and Aingelina was laid down on a table. A man's face swam above hers, his long blond curls sweeping against her cheek and his blue eyes peering down at her. She knew him but couldn't think of his name. What was his name? His scruffy mouth was moving but she couldn't hear what he was saying over the rush in her ears. As she watched him a blackness over took her and she welcomed its peace.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Where the hell is she!?!" Hank yelled, pacing the room of the clinic.
Aingelina was passed out on the table having succumbed to the pain in her chest. Claire, his whore who'd been hurt, was sitting on one of the chair, crying as she held her arm to her chest. They'd been waiting for Dr Mike for almost half an hour now. Hank didn't know what to do. His girls were taking care of the saloon so he wasn't really worried about that. It was Aingelina that he was worried about. He'd be damned if she died saving one of his girls. How she knew Claire was in trouble he didn't know yet, all he'd been able to get from the girl was that she saved her life. Ready to yell out of frustration he saw a horse galloped past the window, stopping at the clinic and a rider dismounted. Dr Mike rushed into the clinic, tossing her coat off her shoulders and onto the floor and moved to Aingelina's side.
"What happened!?!"
"She was in a fight," Hank offered. "Saved one of my girls from some bastard with a knife."
Looking up Dr Mike noticed Claire for the first time. She saw the wounded arm and knew that Aingelina took precedence. But with a wounded arm it would be impossible for the girl to help. "Hank, I need your help." Hank nodded and stepped forward. "Very carefully, help me get her shirt off." Working together the two managed to unbutton and slip of the bloodied shirt. Hank saw the blood spreading over her bandaged chest and grimaced while Micheala cut away enough of the bandage to expose the wound and nothing more. Working quickly she cleaned away the blood and examined the wound. "Some of the stitches had torn, I'll have to redo them. Wash your hands in that basin over there. Then come hold this over her mouth. Use one drop of Ether every minute. She's already unconscious so we don't need to use a lot."
Sleeves rolled up and his hands washed Hank stood by Aingelina while Michaela washed her hands. He looked down at her as he squeezed a drop of Ether onto the cloth and Hank waited for Micheala to begin. In silence she worked, pulling out a few of the stitches and replacing them, the skin around them an angry red hew. When she had finished Micheala put a bandage around the wound. "I need you to sit her up and hold her steady so that I can get the bandages around her. Be very careful."
Hank lifted Aingelina into a sitting position and watched as Micheala cut away the old bandages leaving her skin bare and her chest exposed. Though he did look at her breasts it was her back that held his attention. Fading bruises, some almost gone while others were a little fresher, were splotched all over her back but beneath the colors were criss-crossed white lines. It almost looked like...
"She was whipped?" Hank asked, his brow furrowed. "What the hell did she do to get whipped?"
Micheala looked up from her bandages, eyes wide. She was sure that he would have focused on the front of her body, not the back; and she didn't know which would embarrass Aingelina more. "Yes. She was whipped."
Turning back to her task she would go no farther to answer his second question. It wasn't her place to give out that information. A few moments later she was bandaged and Micheala asked Hank to carry Aingelina up to her room while she tended to Claire. Picking the woman up in his arms Hank climbed the stairs to the recovery room. Sitting her in the bed she pulled the pistol and hunting knife from her waist and tossed them onto the table next to the bed. The covers already pulled back Hank laid her down and pulled the blanket back over her, tucking it in under her sides, cocooning her in the bed. With her safely tucked away in the bed he turned to put the knife and gun into her saddlebags that had been dumped in the corner. Opening the one he saw the two boxes of bullets and put the knife and gun into that bag. Out of curiosity he opened the other bag and saw all sorts of bills rolled into a wad sitting atop a piece of paper with handwriting. Pulling out the paper he opened it and began to read.
'Dear Aingel;'
'I got your letter and of course I'll help you out. Meet me at the edge of town; I'll have Charlie waiting with some supplies. It won't be much but I'm sure you can get more once you're under way. Oh God, Aingel, I can't tell you how much I'm going to miss you, but I'll be happy knowing that you've escaped the torment your Pa and brothers put you through. Aingel, I've known you since the day we met in the schoolyard when we were six years old. You remember that? When Tommy Haskins pulled my braid and you shoved him? I still smile when I think about that day. You were my Guardian Aingel, but who guarded you from your own kin? But now you're leaving and I'll celebrate it for you. I'll go into town and I'll drink a glass of whiskey for you, even though I hate the stuff, and I'll smile and laugh because only I'll know that you've escaped.'
'I'll miss you Aingel, so much, but I'll be glad you're gone. Don't ever come back, you hear me, never come back. Go to Canada, get lost somewhere and live your life making new memories, happy memories. You deserve them more than anyone else I know. You know how we loved to make wishes when we saw a star? Well right now I only have two wishes in my heart. One of them is more of a regret than a wish. I wish you had screamed the day your Pa whipped you. I wish that because then we could have come and rescued you from that monster before now. I'd have had my Johnny's Pa throw him in jail forever. But I guess no one can do anything about that one. My other wish, this is something I wish with all my heart and soul. I'll wish it on every star I see. I wish that you find peace. True peace. A man who'll love you, who'll protect you, and who'll give you the family you never had. That's what I wish for you, Aingel. That's what you deserve.'
'I have to hurry and put this in the tree but I'll be waiting at the edge of town, Charlie and me will be waiting so you can ride away and never come back. I love you Aingelina Bowry, you're the best friend a woman could ever wish for.'
'Love Kathy'
Folding the letter Hank put it back where he had found it. All his facts about her made sense now. Why she had run; the whip marks on her back, her strength. Everything. Standing Hank turned to leave when one of the doors flapped in the wind against the wall. Crossing to it he was about to close it when he looked across the street and saw straight into the room Claire used. "So that's how she knew," he said aloud.
"Knew what, Hank?"
Turning he saw Micheala as entered the room and put her hand to the sleeping Aingelina's forehead. "How she saw that Claire was in trouble. You can see right into the room from this spot."
Moving to stand next to him she looked across the street and saw the lit room. "Oh! I never noticed that before."
"Me either." Hank shut the doors and looked at the sleeping woman. "Listen, Micheala, lets keep this between us, okay? She don't need to know that I helped with the operation and I'll make sure Claire don't say a thing."
Micheala met his eyes and nodded. This man never ceased to amaze her. Just when she thought she had him figured out he pulled another trick out of his hat like a magician. Settling back into a chair she soon fell asleep waiting for her patient to wake up.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was early Friday afternoon before Dr Mike would allow Aingelina out of the clinic again. After a brief stop by Robert E's to see Charlie she made her way to the saloon. Walking through the double doors she saw that it was relatively empty, only a few patrons so far. Stopping at the bar Aingelina helped herself to a glass of whiskey from the bottle on the bar. Slamming it back she grimaced as it burned down the back of her throat.
"You owe me for that."
Lifting her gaze from the empty glass to Hank as he emerged from a room behind the edge of the bar she shook her head. "I paid for a whole bottle and only got one glass," she reminded him. "You owe me."
Hank grinned. "That I do. Take the bottle, I don't like owing anybody."
"No thanks. I'll just keep it here. Dr Mike'd tan my hide if I brought this back to the clinic with me." Looking around she asked, "Where's Claire?"
"Doing her job."
Nodding Aingelina tossed a few dollars onto the bar. "When she's done she's mine for the day." Re-corking the bottle she put it on the bar, grabbed a deck of cards from the shelf next to it, and went to sit at one of the tables. Hanks watched as she split the deck, shuffling a little clumsily, with the hands of a person who had seen but never done, before laying some cards down face down and some face up. With the rest of the deck in her hands he watched as she played some sort of game he didn't know. Sitting down across from her he watched. "It's a game for one person to play. No betting involved, you wouldn't be interested."
"Show me."
Glancing at him he could see the amusement in her eyes and saw the slow grin appear on her lips. "You start by shuffling the deck. Lay down seven rows of one card each; face down. Then put down another card in the six rows left, then five then four, three, two, and one. Flip over the first card put one more card on each row; face up. Now take the cards you have in your hand and count out three." Step by step Aingelina explained the game of Solitaire to Hank while she waited for Claire. A man emerged from the stairwell and she looked up to see Claire following him out into the saloon. Seeing Aingelina, the young girl approached, her face lighting up. When the girl had reached the table where she and Hank were seated Aingelina took one breath and her nose was over powered by the girl's stench of sweat, grime, sex, and whiskey. "Damn!" she said, putting a hand over her mouth and nose. Aingelina saw Hank raise an amused eyebrow but turned her attention toward Claire. "I've bought your time for a few hours. Go wash up, put on some decent clothes, and meet me back here." Claire opened her mouth to say something but Aingelina silenced her. "Don't question me, just go." Aingelina watched the girl scurry off to the her room, to do as she was ordered, before turning her attention back to Hank, and amused grin on his face. "Something funny?"
Rocking back onto the hind legs of his chair Hank chuckled. "You ain't like a normal gal, are you?"
"Nope."
Still grinning he got up to service a man that entered the bar. While he was at the bar Claire emerged in a proper shirt and skirt. Nodding to her Aingelina got up from her seat and left the bar without a backward glance. Leading the way to the clearing Aingelina stopped and turned to face her student. Reaching out a hand she slapped the girls cheek just enough to leave a small sting. "You need to learn how to defend yourself. If you're going to whore yourself then you have got to learn how to fight off the scum that will use you. Do you understand?" Claire nodded, wide-eyed and speechless. "Now, I want you to hit me as hard as you can, right here on my cheek. I want you to keep trying until you finally hit me."
Taking a deep breath Claire balled up one of her fists and swung at Aingelina. Stepping back just in time she avoided the small fist and reached out to slap the girl's cheek again. Holding her cheek for a moment Claire balled her fist again when Aingelina nodded to her and swung. Once more she was slapped on the cheek as her fist missed its target. Again and again they did this until Claire's cheek was red and she was frustrated. "What is the point of this!?! You keep moving so I can't hit you! And you keep hitting me!"
"That is the point Claire. If someone is attacking you they're not going to stand there and let you hit them. They're going to keep hitting you until you stop fighting them." Aingelina saw the point hit home and realization came into Claire's eyes. "Now hit my hand, right here in my palm as hard as you can." Holding up her hand for Claire to hit it she winced when contact was made, irritating her chest with the motion. "Okay, you've got a bit of strength in you. First you need to build that up. I want you to work, do whatever you have to, to build your muscles. Next I want you to work on your swing. You need to be quick, you can't draw your arm back so far, they'll see that, and know you're trying to hit them, it gives them time to move. Keep your fists up here, like this," she moved the girl's hands up near her face. "Good, now that does two things. First it protects your face. If I'm going to try and hit you I'll hit your arm instead of your face. Second it keeps you ready. Real quick, as fast as you can punch my hand."
Claire let a fist fly and hit Aingelina's hand. "Good. Now work on that next, the faster you can move the less time he'll have to try and hit you." Aingelina stood up and took Claire's hands in hers. "Now what I'm going to show you next will really hurt the man you're fighting. It's a last resort, don't uses it if you don't have to because not only will it really hurt them man it will make him madder than hell once he's recovered." Thinking back to the training days with her brother Aingelina remembered all the spots he'd told her about. "The most sensitive area on a mans body is his pecker."
Claire smiled. "That's for sure."
"Well it's also the place that will cause him the most pain. There's quite a few things you can do to make it hurt."
From the porch at the saloon Hank watched as Claire tried to hit Aingelina, and then begin hitting her hands. When she grabbed Claire's shoulders and slowly put a knee to her crotch he knew exactly what she was telling the whore. 'So she fight's dirty, too,' he thought to himself. Called back inside to service a customer Hank was kept busy until the women returned several hours later, falling in through the doors, laughing with each other over something. Catching Claire's eyes he motioned for her to get back to work. With a smile Claire said goodbye and headed up the stairs looking happier than Hank had seen her in a long time. Normally a quiet, shy girl Hank was surprised to see her grab one of the other girls, dragging her up the stairs, whispering excitedly as they went. "Unless you want a drink I got customers," he glared at Aingelina as she leaned against the bar with a smile on her face. With a playful wink she sauntered out of the bar and headed toward the café to see Grace. Biting back a grin he kept his scowl in place and headed over to one of the poker tables.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair still damp from her bath Aingelina carefully combed through the locks before braiding them tightly to her head in a style of one of the girls at the dance hall had shown her. Cecilia had called it a 'French woman's braid'. Aingelina thought it was beautiful and had gotten adept at styling her hair in that manner, it was different form everyone else and she liked it. Finishing the braid she left a few inches loose at the bottom and tied a string around to keep it in place. Tonight she felt like a woman, it was a feeling she had rarely gotten the chance to feel. Not like a slave to her family, not like a whipping girl, not like a woman acting like a man, but a woman through and through. In her shirt and skirt, petticoats and all, she looked, felt and smelled like a woman. Smiling she descended the stairs to meet Dr Mike. Aingelina liked the way it felt to be a woman without worrying that someone would try to take advantage of her..
"Why Aingelina! You look positively beautiful tonight!"
Smiling at her friend Aingelina could feel a slight blush coming to her cheeks. Compliments had stopped when she was six years old. She had forgotten how good it felt to hear them. "Thank you, Dr Mike."
"Aingelina, how did you do your hair like that? It looks so intricate and difficult," Colleen asked as she saw the woman's hair.
"It is a little difficult to learn but not to do once you have learned it. I could show you if you like," she offered.
"Well then, shall we go?"
As a group, Sully, Michaela, Colleen, Andrew, Brian, and Katie, they crossed the bridge to the dance floor where the entire town was gathered, party already in full swing. As she walked with the family Aingelina could feel the stares and hear the whispers of the people they passed. Holding her head high she knew she had nothing to be ashamed of and she'd be damned if she let anyone think otherwise. While Colleen and Andrew escaped to a private corner and Brian ran off to find his friends the three remaining adults settled down under a large tree with Katie. Sitting in her Pa's lap Katie clapped and moved her body to the music, not a dance per say but the way she connected to the music as it beat within her heart. Watching the young girl Aingelina knew how she felt, the music beating within her own blood as well. When a slow dance began Sully held his hands out to Michaela and the headed out to the dance floor, leaving Katie in Aingelina's care. Climbing into her lap, sucking on the piece of licorice Aingelina had bought for her Katie leaned back, her head hitting the painful wound. Hissing quietly at the pain she shifted the young girl in her arms so that her head rested on Aingelina's shoulder instead of her chest. Another slow song began and, knowing it, Aingelina began to sing the words softly to Katie, the young girl sitting spell bound in her arms, listening to the song.
"That was beautiful," a man said as she finished the song. Startled Aingelina jumped a little and looked around. There, on a bench less than a few feet away sat a man with a beard and dark hair. She didn't recognize him but he seemed to know her. "You have a beautiful voice Aingelina. I'm sorry, I've probably startled you; my name is Timothy."
"Do you know me?" she asked him, curious as to how he knew her name.
"No, not personally. I've heard about you from Loren and I heard you speaking with Dr Mike and Sully just now. I was wrong of me to listen in but I've heard so many conflicting stories about you I didn't know what to think."
"And now that you've heard me speaking with Dr Mike you've come to a conclusion?"
Timothy smiled. "I've come to the conclusion that you seem like a person I'd like to get to know better."
Her wariness seemed to evaporate when his smile appeared. Something in her told Aingelina to trust this man sitting near them. "Then perhaps you and I shall have to make the time to get to know one another. It would be a waste to dismiss such an honest conclusion."
"Yes it would," he laughed. "I've not heard your voice in church." It wasn't a question nor was it a condemnation. He simply stated a fact, his kind voice and honest words making it impossible for Aingelina to take offense.
"No, I don't go to church."
Timothy's reply was cut off when the dancing couple returned. Laughing the sat down again and noticed the confusion on Timothy's face and the seriousness of Aingelina's. "Is everything all right?" Dr. Mike asked, placing a gentle hand on the woman's arm.
"Yes, I'm just a little tired. I think I'll walk back to the clinic."
"Are you in pain? I'll walk back with you."
"No!" Aingelina paused and chose her words carefully. "I'm fine, I just feel a headache coming on and I wanted to get away from the noise is all. I'll be fine."
"Aingelina, would you mind walking me back to the store since you are heading that way yourself? I'm tired and I think I would like to get some rest."
As he stood Aingelina noticed for the first time that he looked straight ahead and held a long stick in his hand. 'He's blind!' she realized. "Of course Timothy, I am going that way after all." Taking his hand in her arm she said goodnight to her companions and the two were off, ambling at a nice slow pace. Once they were a fair distance from the group she spoke again. "You're not really tired are you?" she asked him.
"What makes you ask that?" he replied, neither confirming nor denying her suspicions.
"You were enjoying the music, sitting there on your bench. I doubt you would have left had I not been so ready to go."
Timothy laughed a hearty sound that made Aingelina smile in return. She had been right. "No, I wouldn't have left. But I did want to finish our conversation. We were interrupted at a most interesting moment. Wold you join me for a cup of coffee. You'd have to make it of course, but I'm sure Grace wouldn't mind." Timothy could hear her hesitate, feel the sudden tenseness in her arm, but she agreed and they waked over to the café. Once the coffee was made Aingelina joined him at the table and they sat in silence for a moment before he spoke. "May I ask you why you do not go to church? Is it that you simply do not believe in God?"
Sighing Aingelina put her tin on the table, wrapping her hands around its comforting warmth. "I do believe in God. I'm rather angry with him right now, but I do believe that he exists. No, the reason I do not go to church is because I do not believe in the men that lead the congregation." She saw him start at her words but kept speaking. "In the town I grew up in I have known three Reverends. The first was Reverend Richard Brooke. He was an old man, already established with the church since before I was born. When my father was building his dance hall Brooke was brazen and outspoken against it, telling the entire town that it was the work of the devil to display females the way Pa planned to. The night the dance hall opened he was there, standing at the door, yelling at the men who entered, telling them that they would go to hell for their sins. That night he went home with one of the dancers on his arm. Every night he would yell at the men who entered and then go home with a dancing girl on his arm until the day he died in her arms."
"The second Reverend, he replaced Brooke, was named Jason Smithton. From the day he got there until the night he was run over by a wagon he drank every night at the dance hall, going home drunker than a skunk. When he was sober he was an agreeable man so long as you did not cross him. If you dared to correct him over the littlest of matters, even if he was in the wrong, you were condemned as a sinner for the first reason he could find. Every Sunday he would pas the collection plate demanding more money from the poorest of people. If they could not pay he would not visit them, would not pray for them, and would not give them their last rights. Unless you cold fill his wallet he wanted nothing to do with you."
"But the worst one yet is the one that still resides there as Preacher. His name is Geoffrey Baker. Though he did not openly support Pa's business so long as the hefty contributions were made to the collection plate he kept his mouth shut about it. He'd been there for about three months when my father invited him to dine with us at our house. Though my father ran a dance hall and kept them on as whores he was a respected man in the community. That night Baker sat at our dining room table, watching and nodding his approval while my father beat me because I had removed the bottle of whiskey from the table before he was finished with it. When Pa was finally done he sat down and nodded to Baker. He then looked at me and quoted 'Spare the rod spoil the child'. That was the last time I ever went to a church. So long as men like that are allowed to shepherd the congregation I will not set foot in their church."
Sitting in his chair, listening to her describe the men of that church, Timothy's face grew grave, his heart wrenching that men of God were capable of doing such things. He knew they existed, he'd heard the tales before, but he'd never heard them from a first hand witness, only in whispered stories. "I'm glad that these men haven't turned you away from God. I wish I could tell you that that type of men are given their just dues but that is something only the Lord can decide. I can tell you that they are few and far between and most importantly that the Revered of our church is not like them."
"I'm sorry Timothy, I find that difficult to believe."
"Aingelina, you've told me something of your past and now I want to tell you something of mine." He smiled at her for a moment, gathering his words together in his mind. "I was not always the man you see before you. There was a time in my life that I was a gambler. I drank, smoked and gambled with my money and my life. I was a gambler who was very good at what I did. But I changed. I came to realize that there was something else I could do with my life. Something that would give to me as much as I gave to others." Reaching out Timothy took her hand in his, holding tightly yet with tenderness and care. "Aingelina, I'm the man who shepherds this congregation. I'm the Reverend of Colorado Springs."
Staring at him she didn't know what to say. This man, Timothy, was a man that she had felt she could trust; a man that she had thought could be a friend. Now, sitting alone with him in an empty café she wondered at how quickly he, a Reverend, was able to bestow that feeling within her. She had known him less than one day and yet she trusted him implicitly. Never in all her life had there been a man she had trusted, and yet here she sat. Shaking her head Aingelina wondered at this town she had come to. It seemed that everyday someone in this town altered the view of life and people that she had held all her life. "Very well then Timothy. I will give your church a try. From what I've seen the Reverend here is a good man."
"He's glad to hear you say that," Timothy smiled. His face grew serious again and he kept his grip on her hand. "If you ever want to talk, about anything, I'm never far away and I would welcome a visit at any hour."
"Thank you," Aingelina said with a kind smile that he could hear in her voice.
"Though I would have stayed the truth is I am rather tired. Would you walk with me to the store? I live there with Loren."
Getting up she took his hand once more and they walked to his door, chatting like old friends, before saying goodnight. Once the door was shut safely behind him Aingelina turned and headed back toward the clinic. She could hear the music as she walked and her feet began to move in time with it, dancing her way down the middle of the dirt-paved street. When the song ended she gave a slight curtsy and laughed at herself. From the side of the road she heard clapping and turned to see Hank sitting on the porch rail, his hands clapping slowing, teasing and mocking her. "Nice, maybe you should come dance on my bar, I'm sure the men would pay to see that."
Though her temper flared at his comment she realized he was goading her and refused to rise to his bait. Instead she teased him back. "Or perhaps you're too much of a coward to try it for yourself," she replied, waving her arm toward the music's origin. His snide grin still on his face, eyebrow raised in amusement, Hank dropped onto the street with ease and strode toward her. As the music began once more, a fast country tune, he grabbed her hand, spinning her around under his arm. Moving to the tune in a dance she didn't know Hank led her around the street, his feet moving from memory while his hands and arms directed her with light pushes and pulls on her waist. Faster and faster the beat in the music moved through the air, swirling around them until she was dizzy from it. All at once the music shifted to a slow county waltz and Aingelina found herself in his arms, moving in a square as the danced in the street. Her hand on his arm, his on her waist, and their hands joined they danced to the soft music playing under the star studded sky.
Looking up at him she saw a smile, honest and true, playing over his mouth. There was no snideness in it, no acerbity, no bitterness. Just a smile shining clear through to his blue eyes that wrinkled with contained laughter. Aingelina knew she was seeing another side to the man everyone knew as the saloonkeeper, a side she doubted anyone else had ever seen. His hand was light on her waist, but its presence could not be missed, and his other held hers with a gentle touch that seemed out of place with the man she knew him to be. Aingelina's heart knew that there was more to this man than he let on to others, but he kept it buried deep within himself, not letting anyone near the inner parts of his heart and mind making her wonder all the more what he kept there. The music stopped and Hank released her, stepping back from her body, but his eyes never left hers.
"Not so much of a coward as you thought."
Aingelina watched as his grin once more slipped back to its normal place, becoming snide again before her eyes. Without another word he turned away from her and sauntered casually back into the saloon. Her mind racing with curiosity about the man who had held her so gently in his arms as they danced under the stars Aingelina turned and headed into the clinic. With her back to the saloon she did not see the blue eyes peering after her from the smoky window across the street, nor did she see the smile that made one last appearance for the night.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The church bell ringing, it's tolling heard for miles, Aingelina hurried down the stairs. She was late. She'd been up so late last night, unable to snuff out the workings of her mind for hours after she had snuffed out the candle at her bedside. Emerging onto the street she finished putting the final pin in her bun and ran toward the church. She could see Timothy standing on the steps, Dr Mike standing with him talking about something. As she crossed the bridge she saw Michaela look toward her and smile, saying one more thing to the blind man on the top step. From the smile that graced his face Aingelina guessed that it was something about her. Nearing the steps she slowed and smoothed her skirt and hair before stepping up the steps to greet her friends. "Good morning Dr Mike, Timothy."
"Good morning, Aingelina," Timothy said, his smile as inviting as the hand he extended to her. "I'm so glad you were able to join us today. I'd better get in there and get ready. Today is an extra special day for me, I want to make sure I give it my best." With a wink to her he moved inside reaching for Loren's arm, the older man had been waiting just inside of the church.
"How are you feeling this morning? Any pain?" Aingelina shook her head and smiled. "Good. I'd love for you to sit with Sully and I, if you'd like that is."
"I'd like that," she said.
Smiling Dr Mike led the way to the seats where her family waited. No sooner were they seated than Katie climbed down from Sully's lap and into Aingelina's, her best friend from the day she had given her the licorice tied with a ribbon. Laughing at their daughter, Sully and Michaela made sure Aingelina didn't mind before allowing Katie to stay in her lap. As Timothy stood before them the crowd silenced and looked to him expectantly. Though his eyes saw nothing Timothy moved his head from side to side as though he were scanning the crowd, a habit even blindness hadn't conquered.
"Good morning everyone, I'm glad you were able to join us on this wonderful morning. I normally would begin by asking one of you to read a scripture from the bible so that we may discuss it but this morning I wish to talk with you about the first scripture I memorized when I went to the seminary. It had always stuck with me as the way I wished to live my life but recently I have thought about the words and the truth behind it and for the first time I realized what it was that Paul was telling the Ephesians in his letter to the Corinthian Congregation. I'm sure some of you will recognize it. 'Love is long-suffering and kind. Love is not jealous, it does not brag, does not get puffed up, does not behave indecently, does not look for its own interests, does not become provoked. It does not keep account of the injury. It does not rejoice over unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.'"
"It's from the first book of Corinthian, chapter thirteen. Last night I got to thinking about the love that one person can show for another. I thought about the way this town pulled together when young Brian Cooper underwent his operation, and how a school was built so that it was the first thing he saw when he awoke."
From his seat in the pew Brian smiled as he remembered the day he'd woken up and saw a brand new school waiting for him.
"And I remember the day when Loren opened his own home to me so that I would be able to continue here as a Preacher. I'm sure we all remember the time Dr Mike almost died while she was trying to keep the rest of us from doing so that time when the town was sick with influenza."
Unseen by the speaker many of the people sitting before him nodded their heads looking to the woman and the man that were mentioned.
"But last night as I was remembering all these things I remembered that there are people out there who never had this love in their life; people who never knew the simple kindness of having someone in their life who would love them unconditionally, without wanting anything in return. I know of one friend..." Timothy shook his head sadly. "My friend had a miserable childhood. I won't go into any of the details but I will tell you that the little girl we took from her guardian a few years back, she had it easy compared to this person. But I can tell you that even with everything my friend went through it has never scarred their heart to the point that they cannot love. My friend has shown me the true meaning of the scriptures I thought I knew as well as I could. 'Love is long suffering...' My friend suffered for more years than I have lived in Colorado Springs. Yet there, in the same sentence, it says that 'love is kind'. Even after all the years of suffering my friend has the kindest heart. How many of us can lay claim to that? For most of us, after one bad day out in the fields or at work here in town, how many can say they don't become irritable, speaking harshly with whoever we meet?"
"'Love... does not keep account of the injury.' How many of us here today have a friend that we no longer speak with because they wronged us in some way? Or how many of us have picked up and moved? Built a fence? Spread gossip about the person who said something bad against us? How do we react when someone has hurt our feelings? Do we let it go, or do we keep it in the back of our minds, holding this person that could be our friend in contempt for the rest of our life? If we have love in our hearts for God if for no one else would we not want to forgive this person? Not hold them to their mistake forever, let it go... love them as God would love them."
"There is a line of the scriptures that I ask each and every one of you to think about, ponder as you go home today. 'Love... bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.' Love never gives up and neither should we. My friend lived with the conditions of their life for two decades, how many of you would be able to last one year, let alone twenty? Think about that the next time that you're having a bad day, think of how much worse that it could be and then rejoice that it isn't. Life is an up and down swing of good and bad. We must endure through the bad and rejoice through the good, for that is life, that is love."
"The last line is three simple words and yet it hold out such a grand promise from our Heavenly Father. Love... never... fails. Never. Love will always prevail no matter the challenge it is given or the battles it fights, love will always be victorious, and so long as we keep it in our hearts and live our lives by it so shall we." In their seats the women of Colorado Springs wiped tears from their eyes and the men fought to keep a clear throat as Timothy drew his sermon to a conclusion. "Now I met someone last night who... I can't think of a word to describe what I heard. Her voice was a beautiful as I would imagine an angels to be. I wish for her to sing our final song so that you too may enjoy the beauty of her voice as I did, but I will leave it up to her to stand before you or not." Pausing Timothy kept his head level, turning it to neither side as he asked, "Will you sing for us?"
Sitting in her seat, Aingelina didn't know what to do. Did she want to sing? Oh yes, more so than she wished to breathe. But to stand before the entire town and sing for them? That was a little more than she felt ready for. As she was trying to make a decision Katie turned around in her lap, raising her eyes to meet Aingelina's. With a whispered voice she said, "Please?" Unable to tell the child no Aingelina laughed softly at her own weakness for the little girl and smiled back at her. "Just for you Katie, because you said 'Please'." Standing she handed Katie to Michaela and moved up the aisle, placing a soft hand on Timothy's arm. "How can I refuse after such a moving sermon? What kind of love would that show to my new friend?"
Smiling at her Timothy moved away carefully to stand against the wall while Aingelina stood before the crowd. She could see them whispering to each other, no doubt passing along the latest bit of gossip that they'd heard. Not bothering to speak to them, not caring what they thought of her Aingelina tried to decide what song she would sing. She didn't know many hymns; most of the songs she knew by heart wouldn't be right to sing in a church. But as she looked to Katie, sitting in the seat she had occupied Aingelina remembered a song her mother had sung to her when she was a little girl. A soft smile spread over her lips as she could hear her mother's voice in her head. With the memory threatening to bring tears to her eyes she knew she had better hurry and sing the song before she was too choked up to do it justice.
"Love is the reason I'm here today,
For no one knows what tomorrow shall bring.
Today is the day I say three words,
And in your heart their truth does ring.
Love is the reason I sing this song,
For you, for me, for God above.
These words that I sing are gentle and true,
A soft song of hope, of joy and of love.
Love is the reason I continue to live,
My heart breaks when I think of your smile.
Living each day as though you were here by my side,
Hand in hand, laughing as we walk each mile.
Love is the reason I'll never give up,
Reaching for the stars shining bright in the sky.
Each night I wonder which it is that you ride,
So I smile at each one as I see it go by.
Love is the reason I plant flowers each spring,
The ones that you love I keep closest to you.
The rose that in the summer blooms as large as your heart,
Shines, as though to greet me, each morning anew.
Love is the reason that I stand here alone,
With only your memories to fill my lonely heart.
Alone in the dawn I trace my fingers across your name,
And I weep for the day on which our paths did part.
Love is the reason I walk on down my path,
Struggling to live each day as though you were here.
And I wait so patiently for I know my time will come,
And then we may laugh, and cry and love, for you will be near."
Her soft voice holding the last note until her breath gave out Aingelina fell silent at last, standing before the people of Colorado Springs, trying to keep the emotions and memories that swelled to the surface at bay; ignoring them was a trick she'd learned many years ago. Moving from her place in front of the group back to her seat she was startled by the tears in the eyes of those she passed. Did they know what this song meant to her? Did they know that it was the one memory of her mother that time had never eroded from her memory? Was it possible that they had imagined the small child who used to sit on her mother's lap, listening to her sing as she brushed her hair before bed each night? No. Those were things she kept too well guarded to have been seen by the people sitting around her. Smiling Aingelina realized that they had seen themselves in her song, that they too had lost someone who meant the world to them, be it mother, father, sibling or friend. On that level, everyone was the same as her. Everyone knew that small section of pain she kept hidden away within her heart for they too had one within their own.
