Angel's Song

Chapter Twelve

Another update, yay! Enjoy :)

Chapter 12

The needle jabbed sharply into Angel's thumb, staining the white cloth under her hand a brilliant red and causing the brunette let out a yelp.

"Ouch!"

"Angel, are you okay?" Hope's worried voice made her look up. Sighing, she let out a small smile. 

"I'm fine."

Hope's brows drew together in a frown. "Are you sure about that? You've seemed...upset these past few days, ever since you visited Aidan. What did he say?"

Oh, nothing, just told me he's in love and will always be in love with another woman. Angel bit back the sarcastic reply and instead forced another smile. "He's worried, is all. I think he believes that going to jail after so long is...what he deserves."

"The judge is coming tomorrow," Calvin announced as he walked in the front door of the boardinghouse, Luc on his heels. "Just heard it from little Ryan at the telegraph office; he'll be here on the afternoon stage."

Angel stood up abruptly. The room suddenly felt too close, too many people in it. "I'm going for a walk." She grabbed her cloak and walked swiftly out the door before anyone could stop her.

Hope reached for her own cape. "I'm going after her."

"Leave the girl alone," Nellie admonished. She put down a plate of freshly-baked cookies on the table and dusted her hands off on her apron. "She's just needs some time, is all." Her eyes were knowing as they followed Angel walking briskly down the street.

"I love Catherine, and I always will."

Aidan's words ringing in her ears, Angel stalked down Main Street, narrowly avoiding a wagon coming the other way. Ignoring the curious (and scornful) glances of the townspeople she passed, she crossed the bridge that led to the church, eventually stopping in the graveyard. Her eyes scanned the headstones until she found the one she was looking for.

Catherine Patricia Dennehy

1845-1866

Beloved Daughter

It was stupid to feel envious of a dead woman, but Angel could help the twist of jealousy that soured her stomach as she stared at the simple headstone. She could never match up to Catherine, not in a million years. Was it any wonder that Aidan preferred her?

At that moment, a fresh breeze fanned her face, and she let out a breath. What am I doing? Envying the dead, hating someone that's long gone? I'm no better than Denton Shannon, Lord. Forgive me, she breathed silently. Closing her eyes, she stood with head bowed, savouring the quiet as she prayed.

"Miss Donovan."

The familiar, yet unwelcome voice startled Angel, and she turned sharply. Denton Shannon himself stood behind her, a bunch of white roses in one hand and his hat in the other. 

"Mr Shannon," she replied, just managing to keep her surprise out of her voice. "I was just..."

"Talking to the dead?" His mouth quirked sarcastically. "I sincerely doubt my Catherine will rise from her grave to defend Aidan O'Connor before the judge tomorrow. It'll be prison at the very worst, and heaven knows it's far less than he deserves."

"I was praying, actually," Angel responded, her cheeks flushing, "but as I seem to be cutting into your time with your niece, I will take my leave now."