Kiss of Death----12
Evan Rawlings smiled at Reverend Collins and his sister Martha as they arrived at the front gate of the Tate ranch. Martha wasn't a particularly beautiful woman, but to Rawlings there was a hidden beauty seldom seen and he'd been seriously considering asking the woman to several barn dances in the area. His thoughts returned to the reason for his presence at the Tate ranch as they rode closer to the house. He'd been surprised to hear that Buck Wilmington was going ahead with his marriage to Angela Tate. Even more surprising was the invitation he received to attend the dinner the woman was holding in honor of the upcoming wedding. Rosemary Clark had come to the jail early in the afternoon and handed him a formal invitation and one he was intrigued by to say the least. He'd searched through his clothing to find something halfway suitable for the dinner and was pleased with his appearance. He tipped his hat as he came abreast of the buggy driven by Reverend Phillip Collins.
"Evenin' Reverend, Miss Collins."
"Good evening, Sheriff, I must say it is wonderful to see you dressed in such finery," Miss Collins said with a smile. It was rare to see Rawlings without his customary white shirt and black vest, and she knew there would be several ladies who would do anything to spend the evening in his company, but tonight she would see if there was anything between them besides the flirting.
"Thank you, Ma'am, you look lovely tonight."
Phillips Collins smiled as he helped his sister down from the buggy. He knew she had feelings for the sheriff and hoped the two would stop the mating dance and tell each other how they felt. He deposited his sister on the ground and reached for her parasol and handed it to her.
"Thank you, Phillip. Shall we?"
"Of course," Rawlings said as he linked arms with the pretty woman and walked toward the front door and knocked. He smiled as the door was opened by Angela Tate's housemaid, Carmon. She motioned them into the house and closed the door before leading them to the main parlor. Without a word of explanation she left the trio alone and closed the door behind her.
"Miss Tate certainly has a beautiful home," Martha Collins said as she explored the room. A large bookcase took up most of one wall and a small settee and matching armchair took up the other. A large window in the wall opposite the door allowed sunlight to brighten the floral paper that covered the walls.
"Never seen so many flowers in one place before," Rawlings commented as the sweet scent of roses and honeysuckle threatened to take his breath away and he sneezed. "Excuse me. Sorry."
"No need to apologize, Sheriff."
"Please call me Evan, Ma'am."
"Only if you call me Martha," the woman said sweetly.
"Done, Martha."
"It's about time you two quit dancing around and settled on a first name basis," Phillip said as he sat in the armchair leaving the two younger people no choice, but to sit on the small settee.
"Phillip, never berate a man for being a gentleman," Martha scolded.
"I wasn't berating him, I was applauding him," the reverend said with a smile.
"Oh," she said and ducked her head slightly before looking around the room once more. "I wonder where Mr. And Mrs. Clark are?"
"They may be a little late. Joseph was still working when I left town," Rawlings explained as Carmon returned with a tray that contained a pitcher of lemonade and glasses and placed them on the table. She left hurriedly and once more closed the door.
"I wonder if we're going to see our host and hostess after all," Martha said.
"Now, My Dear, don't talk like that it doesn't become you," Phillip said.
"Well, it is bad form to leave the guests wondering," the woman said as she accepted a glass of lemonade and waited for the others to make an appearance.
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"Buck, our guests have arrived," Angela said as she entered the room to find Wilmington standing at the window dressed in the clothing she'd set out for him.
The rogue didn't acknowledge her presence right away. He'd been staring out the window, wondering where they were holding Chris Larabee and how the hell he was supposed to search for him when Angela seemed dead set on spending every minute with him and when she was unavailable, one of her men would be there to make sure he didn't ride off on his own.
"Did you hear me, Buck?"
"Yeah, I heard you," Wilmington answered, sighing in disgust as he turned towards the object of his hatred. They'd made love before she left to make sure things were ready and he'd felt dirty at the thought of what he'd done, yet what choice did he have.
"I must say that suit does fit you perfectly. Women will be very envious of me when they see us together," Tate said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a lustful kiss. She deepened it and smiled as he tried to draw away, but seemed to remember their arrangement and the kiss deepened for several drawn out seconds. She pulled away, breathing heavily as she straightened her floor length green dress and fanned herself. "My, my, but it's warm in here. I wish we could stay and continue this, but it would not do to keep Reverend Collins waiting. After all we have much to discuss before tomorrows celebrations."
Buck felt her arm link through his and walked out the door with her and along the hallway towards the parlor. He knew he had to make things look good and forced a smile to his face as he opened the door and held it for her. They entered the parlor and Wilmington was surprised to see Evan Rawlings sitting beside a woman around his own age.
"Hello, Miss Tate, Buck?"
"Evan," Wilmington greeted, smiling slightly as he shook the other man's hand.
"Hello, Reverend, Miss Collins, I'm so glad you could come out here tonight," Tate said with a smile as she reached for the other woman's hand. "I do love your dress."
"Thank you, Miss Tate," Martha said, as the three men seemed to leave them alone. "You look beautiful and please call me Martha."
"Martha, and you must call me Angela. Miss Tate is so formal."
"Angela, you have such a lovely home."
"Thank you, but I can't take the credit for it all. Rosemary is wonderful with making sure everything has a place," Tate explained as the door opened once more and the Clarks were issued inside.
"Good evening everyone," Rosemary greeted as she moved to her friend and hugged her close. "You look lovely, Angela. How are things?"
"Perfect so far. See the smile on Buck's face?" She asked as they released each other and moved to speak with the others.
"Rosie, Joseph, I believe you know everyone here."
"Yes we do," Rosemary said as Wilmington moved to serve drinks.
"Would anyone like something stronger than Lemonade?" Buck asked.
"Lemonade is strong enough for me," Martha answered.
"I'd like a brandy," Rosemary said and nodded in pleasure at the handsome rogue. So far he was being the perfect host and she wondered if he'd be able to keep it up.
"Angela?"
"Brandy would be wonderful, Buck," Tate said and walked over to join the two women at the settee.
"Joseph, would you like a drink?" Wilmington asked.
"Whiskey," the older man answered and joined the three men near the window.
"Reverend?"
"Lemonade will suffice," Collins answered.
"How about you, Evan?"
"Whiskey," the sheriff answered, studying his friend's face and noting the forced smile. He'd been a lawman and studied enough faces to know when things were not as they seemed and right now he was reading Wilmington's face like an open book. He wouldn't say anything until he was sure they were alone, but something about his friend's demeanor did not set right with him.
Buck sensed the sheriff watching him and didn't meet his eyes as he poured the brandy into the glasses and served it to Tate and Clark. He then served the whiskey and took a deep breath before reaching for Angela and pulling her close.
"Oh, Buck, we have company," the woman said coyly.
"Yes, but I am a man in love and when you're close I can think of nothing else, but holding you in my arms."
"Easy, Darling, we still have to wait until it's official. It's only one more day!"
"Too long when all I want…"
"Ahem," Collins cut in.
"Oh, sorry, I forgot myself. Angela and I have agreed to wait until we're married and I've been trying to grant that wish. She is a woman of true virtue," the rogue easily lied.
"One of us has to be," Tate said with a laugh as she pulled away from her intended. She returned her attention to the two women and began talking about what they'd be wearing to the small gathering.
"So, Buck, you're really gonna marry Angela," Rawlings stated.
"Yeah, she's everything I ever wanted in life. I've always known we were meant to be together and I can't tell you how glad I was when I got the message from her."
"Sounds like love to me. One of God's greatest gifts is the love between a man and a woman and the family they raise together," Phillips said.
"Now, Reverend, they haven't even said I do and you have them starting a family," Rawlings said with a laugh.
"Yes, well the Lord works in mysterious ways and I believe this union is one he blessed long ago. Angela told me she's known you for a long time," Collins said.
"We go back a few years," Wilmington answered.
"That they do. I knew Buck, Chris, and Angela…"
"Chris?" the reverend asked curiously.
"Chris Larabee. He rode into town with Buck, but I haven't seen him around since he sent a telegram a few days ago."
"That's because he went home, Evan. I told you in the saloon that Chris left a message for me saying he had to go back to Four Corners," Wilmington explained as Angela joined them.
"Is everything okay, Buck?" Tate asked.
"Everything's fine, Darlin'. Evan just forgot about me tellin' him about Chris' message." Wilmington explained as the other women joined them. He looked at Rawlings and shook his head imperceptibly and hoped the man got the message. Rawlings knew of his true feelings about Angela Tate and of his determination not to rush into marriage, yet here he was acting like a love struck kid on his wedding night, yet what he felt was disgust whenever she was near him.
"I'm so glad you're not worried about Chris anymore, Buck. You seemed as if you were tied up in knots about his whereabouts." Angela said and saw a spark of anger in his eyes. "I believe Carmon has dinner ready and she does make the most delicious roast beef and gravy and I do believe today's events have left me rather famished."
Rosemary Clark found herself lagging behind as she fought the urge to laugh at her friend's comment. She felt her husband's hand on her arm and followed him out of the room as he bent low to speak in her ear.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Rosemary."
"You know I love dangerous games, Joseph," she whispered as the others entered the dining room.
"Yes, but this is one game that could have deadly consequences and I don't like it."
"I promised I would not kill Chris Larabee, Joseph, and I will keep my word no matter what happens. Now let's go in to dinner before we're missed."
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The stars created a blanket of light in the dark sky over their heads, but only one man actually saw them. Vin Tanner sat on a fallen log near the edge of the ring of light cast by the flickering fire. He'd taken first watch and would probably let Ezra sleep a little longer before waking him. There was no pressing need for a sentry, but there was always the possibility that someone was on their trail. His thoughts turned once more to the missing men and he wondered why they hadn't contacted Four Corners.
Since Chris Larabee's disappearance in Jericho nearly six months ago, they'd come up with the plan that while away from home they would contact their fellow peacekeepers at first opportunity. Chris and Buck should have contacted them nearly a week ago, but there'd been nothing and his instincts were telling him they needed to get to Midfield before it was too late. His eyelids were growing heavy and he knew he had to get some sleep or tomorrow would find a riled bear in buckskin riding Peso and the others didn't deserve his anger and impatience.
Vin walked over to the sleeping men and gently nudged the gambler who grumbled about having a dead man's hand before startled green eyes opened and looked around.
"Easy, Ez, it's just me."
"Mr. Tanner, you are extremely lucky I have the instincts needed not to pull the trigger," Standish told him.
"Always knew you had gentle hands, Ez."
"I would not consider them gentle, just very sure," Standish said as he threw back his blanket and stood up.
"Guess ya slept well."
"Very well, just not as lengthy as I normally require. Sleep well, Mr. Tanner, for dawn seems ready to spread her blanket."
"Jesus, Ezra, thought Vin was the poet."
"He is, Mr. Sanchez, I am but a student of his expertise," Standish said with a flourishing bow. "Good night, gentlemen."
"Night, Ez," Tanner said, grabbing his saddle and lying down. He reached for the blanket Standish had used and covered himself with it. "Night, Josiah."
"Night, Vin," Sanchez said and closed his eyes once more.
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Chris woke to the loud sound of snoring next to his left ear and quickly opened his eyes. Dazed and confused he shifted away from the sour smell of whiskey and tobacco and groaned as pain slammed through his body and mind. He trembled as he tried to put some order to the twisted memories that flowed through his mind. He looked at the dirty head that seemed to be resting near him and his memory quickly cleared as the man's name slipped past dry lips.
"Tu…Turner!" The man mumbled something about being stupid and Chris waited to see if the bastard would go back to sleep. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of Turner's twisted attention and tried to remain still as he waited for the pain to subside. His feet were numb and he wondered about the circulation as he tried to lift his head, but there was just no strength left. The stench coming from the man snoring next to him was overpowering and he wished the man would wake up and get away from him. He was tempted to try waking him, but decided against calling attention to himself and finally turned his head and let his eyes slide closed.
Chris knew his own position was dangerous, but was more worried about Buck Wilmington and what he was being forced to do. Being forced into a loveless marriage was one thing, but being forced into a marriage with a woman you'd grown to despise was even worse. Buck was a man who loved women and had never done anything to harm one, although there were a few exceptions. Chris knew that Buck could easily kill Ella Gaines on sight for what she'd done to Sarah and Adam. Now there were at least two other names that could be added to that short list. Angela Tate and Rosemary Clark had made a bitter enemy out of the ladies' man and someday he knew they would both regret the day they'd crossed him. Chris just hoped that he lived to see that day, but as he shifted and cried out, he wondered if he would even live past their wedding day.
Chris felt Turner move beside him and the dirty head lifted and looked around before settling once more on the bed. Too tired to do anything about the disgust he felt, Chris closed his eyes and prayed he would be alive to see the next day.
TBC