Christmas Angel Read Free Page A

She halted her pea shelling for a moment to stretch, rubbing the annoying crick in her shoulder, when she spied the dusty cloud of a fast approaching buggy. She stood to get a better look, placing the bowl at her feet. After a few seconds, she realized it was Josie driving the rig, and it appeared she had the hounds of Hell nipping at her heels. Caution prompted her to search the horizon, debating whether to retrieve Paddy’s gun from behind the bar. She stepped to the edge of the porch, shading her eyes, and heard a scream.
    “Angel!” It was Josie all right, and she sounded frantic.
    Angel turned on her heel and headed into the saloon to get the gun.
    “You won’t believe the news I have!” Her friend shouted over the din of the horses’ hooves.
    She darted a look back over her shoulder in time to see Josie yank on the reins and cause the buggy to sway precariously. Angel hurried down the steps, careful to avoid being in the path of the oncoming horses. The team slowed to a standstill and the other woman jumped out. Her face was covered with a film of dust.
    “Josie, what on earth has happened? Is someone after you?”
    She shook her head. Taking a few moments to catch her breath, she licked her lips, chafed by the desert wind, and held her hand to her chest while her breathing slowed. “There’s a new music teacher in town.” Her face lit with a smile. “And he teaches piano lessons.”
    Angel’s heart soared. An opportunity to learn to play the music she so dearly loved? But her lofty dreams plummeted, along with her heart, falling with a thud on the cold dry ground of reality. “You know how we’re thought of in this town. It would never be permitted. The preacher would make sure of it.”
    “Maybe he could come to the Sweet Magnolia,” Josie responded enthusiastically. “I bet he’d come.”
    Though the idea was tempting, it would never work. Accepting a student from the Sweet Magnolia, even one enthused to learn, would end his business in town quicker than a summer dust storm.
    Josie pushed on, determined to make her case. “Would it hurt to ask? Maybe you could arrange something with Sheriff Nate?”
    Angel glanced up, the corner of her mouth lifting in a wry smile.
    “It’s no secret he’s had his eye on you for quite a spell. He might be willing to work out something.”
    Angel picked up the crockery bowl and held it in the curve of her arm. Thoughts of her fingers skipping across the beautiful ivory and black keyboard danced merrily in her head. The swinging saloon doors flew open, banging against the house. Startled, she fumbled the bowl, grasping it to her. A man, an obviously satisfied man, stood for a moment, taking in the view from the porch. She doubted in his state he was even aware of their presence. Josie cleared her throat. Angel caught his startled gaze and in her mind, the image of his wife, Ermyma Brisbee—the only real pianist for church services, funerals, and weddings—slammed the lid down on her musical fantasy.
    “A pleasant afternoon, ladies.” He tipped his brown bowler. “Has Deadwater ever seen such a magnificent autumn day?”
    Josie slid Angel a look, hiding her smile. “It surely is, Mr. Brisbee.
    He nodded and straightened his slightly askew collar, giving evidence he’d recently re-dressed. He was like many men in Deadwater who frequented the Magnolia to relieve the stress in their marriages. Ermyma, on the other hand, was a large woman, known for her controlling tendencies. She would not take kindly to her husband prowling around the Magnolia or engaging in behaviors unacceptable for the spouse of a church musician.
    Angel handed the peas to Josie and hooked her arm through that of the austere man. She gave him a gentle smile. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind keeping me company for a moment or two on the porch swing? I have a little dilemma I hope to have your help in settling.”
    He cleared his throat in a gruff, authoritative manner. “Well, now, I should