"She married you of her own free will?"

Charlie frowned at Winston. Obviously during the short time the man was at the ranch he had learned the

story of Angelina's two trips to the altar. "What's your point, Yank?" he growled.

"I wouldn't leave anyone I love with that man. He's dangerous. At least get her away from him and then decide what to do."

"I've already decided. I'm out of her life. I'm goin' to Kansas with you."

"You might have decided, but what about her? You keep saying she's young and you're old. You're not

good enough for her. But from what I saw, she loves you. She should have a chance to make up her own

mind. You're just like her father, telling her what's good for her and what's not."

Charlie frowned. He didn't like the direction of the conversation, especially if he was being compared to Miguel Reyes. "I'm just tryin' to do somethin' right for once in my sorry life."

"What if you're doing something wrong for the right reasons?"

"Quit jabberin' and tell me what you're after, Yank."

"I'm just thinking you should give each other a chance. That woman was not meant to be a nun. I've seen

how she looks at you. Some of the hired help at her parents' place told me how much she loves children. Children are the reason she went into a teaching order. She wanted to be near them even though she'd never have any of her own. She'll be miserable in the convent for the rest of her life. Is that what you want?"

Charlie didn't answer. He just scowled at a point between Gabe's twitching ears.

"What if she's pregnant?"

Charlie started at Winston's bald question. "She never tried to get in touch with me in Dallas."

"How do you know? In Dallas you're dead."

Ice-cold fear flooded through Charlie as he thought of all that might have happened in Mexico during his

absence, and he'd left Angelina to face everything alone.

"Hellfire," Charlie muttered and yanked Gabe to a stop.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm goin' to Mexico to get my wife."

Drew grinned. "Need some company?"

Charlie grinned back. Despite himself, he was starting to like the no-good Yankee lawman. "Sure thing,

Yank." Charlie touched Gabe with his heels, and the massive white animal reared onto his hind legs, pawing the air with sharp front hooves. "Try to keep up," he called over his shoulder as the horse settled into a run.

Angelina remained in bed for a week. When she finally managed to get up, she searched for her red ribbon, the only tangible item Charlie had ever given her. Unable to find the scrap of satin, Angelina tore apart the room, throwing everything she owned onto the floor and sorting through it again and again.

The gift was nowhere to be found.

A maid appeared in the doorway, alerted by the strange sounds coming from the room. "Where is it?" Angelina shouted at her.

"What, senora?" the young girl asked, cringing back from Angelina's anger.

"My ribbon. A red ribbon. I wore it at the party, and now it's gone. I have to find my ribbon."

Angelina heard the hysteria in her voice, and even before the maid ran down the hall calling for Angelina's mother to come quickly, she knew she was overreacting. She couldn't seem to help herself. The ribbon was the only thing she had left of Charlie and she wanted that ribbon back.

Her mother arrived and tried to soothe Angelina's temper. But the gentle woman could do nothing beyond questioning all the servants. No one had ever seen a red ribbon in Angelina's room.

Angelina threw everyone out and locked the door. She then went back to her bed, where she cried herself to sleep. The next day she refused to leave her room. The doctor came and went without doing anything more than cluck over her in Spanish, the same as he'd done the first week she'd lain in bed. There was nothing wrong with her, nothing a doctor could cure anyway.

Her heart was broken. She wanted to curl into a ball and die. Alone. The way Charlie had died. Even though he had been hanged in the midst of people, he had still died alone and lonely, away from the one person who loved him, who would love him for all time.

Every night she lay in the bed she'd shared with him and remembered. She lamented the fact that their one night together had not produced a child. She would have at least had some little part of Charlie to keep with her forever. Despite what her father had said, no one would have taken Charlie's child away from her.

No one.

Her father stayed out of her sight. Once the doctor decided she would recover, he went back to running the ranch and making political maneuvers. He left the care of Angelina to the family physician and his wife, who hovered over her only daughter with a vague, worried air, mumbling nonsense and doing little.

Therefore, when he showed up in the doorway to her bedroom several weeks after she'd fainted in the telegraph office, Angelina knew he had come to impart his decision on the rest of her life. She could have cared less.

"Tomorrow, daughter, your brothers will escort you back to the Sisters in Corpus Christi."

Angelina didn't bother to look at him. She continued to lay on her back in the bed and peruse the ceiling. "All my brothers? Why call out the disciples now?"

"You will ride in an enclosed carriage. Your brothers are for protection."

"Against what?"

"In order to smooth your way back into the convent after the scandal you've brought down upon the Reyes name, I had to promise an extremely large dowry."

Angelina knew her father well enough to hear the anger in his voice, though a stranger would not have been able to distinguish any emotion. He might pretend all was well between them in public, but he would never forgive her for the trouble she had caused him. She didn't have the will to care what he thought of her, nor the will to care where he sent her.

"Why bother with the money?" she asked. "I don't care where I go. Send me where no one's ever heard your precious name."

Her father finally stepped into the room, and Angelina looked at him for the first time. His face flushed with fury as he stood over the bed. Angelina raised her eyebrows at the uncommon show of emotion. "I care where you go," he spat. "How do you think it will look if the Sisters to whom you were pledged do not take you back? And if they do not, do you think you can stay here? No, we don't need your wan face drifting around this house, reminding everyone who visits of your unfortunate attachment to an outlaw. And there is no man in Chihuahua who would marry you now." He paused and drew in a deep, shaky breath. "No, daughter, you are leaving. You are returning to that convent, and I don't expect to see your face again in this lifetime. Take your vows, the vows you were screaming to take during your first wedding, and live out your life as a nun. The scandal will blow over soon enough if you aren't here to remind everyone. I've been advised that having a daughter in the church looks good for a government official in a Catholic country. Everything will work out fine in the end."

Angelina stared at her father for a moment, wondering at the flood of distaste flowing through her. It was the first emotion she'd felt since reading the message informing her of Charlie's death. "As you wish, Miguel," she said. No longer would she refer to the man before her as her father. He had never cared for her, only for what she could bring him. "I will leave tomorrow. But only because I choose to go. I have no reason to live in your world. The church will suit me. I will go anywhere I don't have to see you again."

Angelina stared into her father's cold black eyes and wondered how her mother had endured being married to such a selfish human being for so many years. Even after his only daughter had stated she never wanted to see him again, he merely smiled, pleased at getting his way. "Then we understand each other?"

"Perfectly." Angelina returned her attention to the ceiling as her father left the room.

She didn't care where she spent the rest of her life, though she wondered momentarily how she'd fare back at the convent. She was sure the Sisters would welcome her with open arms, perhaps even pamper her a bit to make up for her horrible experience at the hands of the real world. But she would forever be different from them. She had known love and passion for a man. She would ache for that man every night. In the eyes of every child she taught she would see the promise of what might have been.

She had trusted in her angel's words of advice. She had held fast to her faith and her love.

Where had things gone so wrong?

Charlie and Drew pulled their horses to a halt at the top of the ridge above the Reyes hacienda.

"Got a plan?" Drew asked.

"I'd like to go down there, punch my father-in-law in the nose, grab my wife and hightail it outta here. But somehow I don't think that would be a good idea."

Drew's mouth twitched. "No, I reckon not."

"So how about I go down there and talk to my wife. You stay out of sight and cover me in case Reyes and his disciples decide to shoot me before I say my piece."

"Disciples?"

"It's a long story. Just watch for six men who are younger versions of Reyes. They know how to ride, and the guns they carry ain't for show."

Drew nodded and moved off to take up position behind a few strategic trees.

Charlie rode down the hill, but before he could get near the house, Reyes rode up from another direction, accompanied by two ranch hands. All three men had their guns drawn and pointed at Charlie. Not a disciple was in sight, but the two men with Reyes held their pistols with confidence. Charlie kept his hands away from his own guns. His father-in-law would shoot him with very little provocation, so Charlie would take pains to be agreeable for the moment.

The look of surprise that had appeared upon Reyes's face when he'd first seen Charlie faded fast. "I heard you were dead," Reyes said.

"Hardly." Charlie stared at his father-in-law without flinching. He meant to get what he wanted, one way or another. "I've come for my wife."

Miguel's thin lips curved into a satisfied smile. "She's not here."

"Where is she?"

"You think I'll tell you?"

Charlie sighed. This situation called for tact, which was not something he possessed in abundance. He probably should have sent Winston to talk to Reyes and stayed up on the hill himself. But he'd been so anxious to see Angelina, he hadn't been thinking smart.

"She's my wife, Reyes. I want her back. You have nothin' to say about it."

"Oh, but I do. I know where she is and you don't. I'm holding the gun on you. Now get off my ranch." He cocked his pistol for emphasis. The other two men did the same.

Charlie tried another tactic. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. "You never cared about her. I know our marriage has been an embarrassment to you. I promise I'll take her where no one has ever heard of either of us. You'll never have to be embarrassed again."

"You're right. You have been an embarrassment. And Angelina-well, she's been nothing but trouble all her life. I'll admit I'm glad she's gone. But I've finally arranged things just the way I want them, and I don't plan to let you foul them up again. You can look all you want, but you won't find her here."

Charlie opened his mouth to argue, and Reyes pulled the trigger. The earth in front of Gabe's hooves spit dust and the horse reared. Charlie calmed his mount with murmured words and soothing strokes. When he glanced at Reyes once more, the man and his companions had ridden away.

"Son of a bitch." Charlie glanced up at the hill and waved to let Winston to know he was all right. The man stepped out from behind a tree and waved back his understanding.

Charlie turned his attention to Angelina's bedroom window. Could she be up there despite Reyes's assurances to the contrary? He doubted Reyes would have left him on the property if such were the case.

Still, he couldn't leave without knowing for sure his wife was not trapped inside.

Charlie walked Gabe up to the house and dismounted. A glance into the distance revealed Reyes and the other two men had nearly disappeared into the dust created by their mounts. His boot perched atop the first step, Charlie froze when the front door opened. His head whipped back toward the house just as Theresa Reyes stepped outside.

She smiled, a trifle fearfully. Charlie did his best to smile back without scaring her any further. He failed.

She took a step backward, her long, pale fingers fluttering at her throat.

"Don't be afraid," Charlie said. She flinched at the rasp of his voice. "I just want to know where Angelina is. Can you tell me?

Theresa glanced around the empty yard.

"He's gone," Charlie supplied. "Rode out to the west with two men. He'll never know you told me. I swear."

After another moment's hesitation, she nodded. "He sent her back to the convent in Corpus Christi

yesterday. All the boys went with her, heavily armed."

"Why?" Charlie frowned. "He thought I was dead. Who was he protecting her from?"