Angel's Song

Chapter Twelve

The first weak rays of sunlight were stealing over the rooftops and into her room when Angel gave up on sleep and decided to get up. Getting dressed quietly, she stole downstairs and out of the boardinghouse, careful not to wake the still-slumbering occupants. 

The streets were deserted at this time of the morning, but as she stepped off the porch, Angel caught sight of a familiar figure sweeping the front stoop of the telegraph office vigorously. "Morning, Ryan."

"M-morning, ma'am." He glanced up at her awkwardly, his loose black bangs brushing over his forehead. 

"Ryan, can I ask you something?"

He nodded warily. "Okay."

"Remember the night you came and gave Aidan O'Connor that message from Mr Morgan? Who was the man who gave you the message in the first place?"

He frowned. "He said he was a friend of Mr Morgan's. I couldn't see his face, though; he kept his hat pulled down."

"Did he dress like a ranch hand?"

The boy's eyes shone. "Golly, miss, no. He was wearin' these shiny black boots with silver spurs and real fancy gloves. Spoke fancy too, all big words an' such."

"Was he wearing a coat?" Angel pressed.

Ryan thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"What colour was it?"

He stared at her as though she were crazy. Angel grabbed his arm.

"Please, Ryan, this is important. A man's freedom could depend on it."

He chewed on his lower lip. "It was cream, a funny sort of material."

Angel sucked in her breath sharply. 

"Are you all right, miss?"

She smiled at him. "I'm fine, Ryan, thank you. You've been more help than you possibly know." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a quarter. "Buy yourself some sweets with that, you hear?"

"Thanks, miss!" His eyes shone and he practically skipped inside.

Angel straightened, Ryan's words washing over her. Denton Shannon. He had framed Aidan for theft, and she had a direct testimony to prove it.

She glanced over at the sheriff's office. She should really go and speak to Wyatt, tell him the truth of what she had found. But deep down, she knew there was a pretty slim chance he'd believe her and an even slimmer chance of anyone else but her friends doing so. The whole town was practically aching to see Aidan O'Connor get what they believed were his just desserts, even if it was for a crime he didn't commit.

Angel took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do.

~

It would have created too much attention for Angel to ride the wagon to the Shannon ranch, so she hired a horse from Sven Nordstrom instead, asking directions as well. The burly blacksmith seemed rather perturbed by her actions, but told her the way anyway. Five minutes later, Angel trotted out of the town, changing to a swift gallop as she rode in the direction the blacksmith had told her.

The Shannon ranch was magnificent. A sprawling main house with a broad front porch and a massive set of barns greeted Angel's eyes as she rode up to the main gate. Two men with guns blocked her path, their faces as unwelcoming as the rifles they carried.

"I'm here to see Denton Shannon," she explained patiently. "It's important."

"Boss ain't receivin' visitors," one man returned bluntly.