Blood Wedding

Fargo bent over and grabbed Abby’s wrist with one hand to restrain her while he wrested the pistol from Angel with his other hand.

“That’s enough,” he said to Abby. “I think you’ve got her whipped.”

“The hell she does,” Angel said. “You get away from her and let us fight. I’ll tear her head off.”

Fargo didn’t think so. Abby had proved to be a lot less delicate than Molly seemed to think she was. Abby might be small, but she was a fighter.

Fargo kept his grip on her wrist and eased her up off Angel. Abby couldn’t resist one last kick at Angel’s ribs as Fargo pulled her away.

“Bitch,” Angel said. She struggled to sit up. “Let her go, Fargo. I’m going to kill her.”

“Looks to me like you’re the one getting killed,” Fargo said. “You should have shot her back in the house when you had the chance.”

“I wanted someone to see and suffer the way my father did when you put the gun to my head. You bastard. This is all your fault.”

Fargo wondered why people like Angel, and her father for that matter, always had to blame someone else for their troubles. They never seemed to think that any blame should light on them, no matter what they’d done.

“You might as well get up,” Fargo said. “You seem to be feeling pretty feisty.”

“That’s what you think,” Angel said, and then she fainted.

“That’s the second time she’s done that,” Fargo said. “I don’t think she’s feeling too well after all.”

“That’s just fine with me,” Abby said. “I don’t care if she dies. I hope she does. And you can let go of my arm. I’m not going to do anything else to her.”

“I think you’ve done enough, already. Let’s get her back in the house.”

“Why don’t we just leave her here? Let her lie there and die. I hate her.”

“She doesn’t think too much of you, either, judging by those names she called you. But it wouldn’t be smart to let her die. I made a promise to Murray, and I’m going to keep it.”

“Even after what she did?”

“What she did doesn’t matter. She didn’t make any promises.”

“You sound a lot like Jed sometimes,” Abby said. “I didn’t understand him, either.”

She turned and started back to the house. Then she remembered her pistol and came back for it. When she picked it up, she said, “You can bring her in if you want to, but don’t expect me to help you.”

“You’ll have to watch her,” Fargo said.

“If you want her watched, you do it. I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”

Fargo picked up Angel and carried her back to the house. She didn’t stir until he put her on the bed, and even then she didn’t awaken. Abby was right. Angel wasn’t going anywhere, not for a while.

Fargo sat down in the chair across from the bed. He removed his Colt from the holster and put it under his leg just in case Angel was faking. She wouldn’t be able to get to the pistol without waking him up. When he was as comfortable as he could get, he closed his eyes, and in less than a minute he was asleep.

He woke up when he heard voices in another room. Angel was awake, too, and watching him, but she wasn’t saying anything.

For the first time Fargo noticed that she was a beautiful woman, or would have been if not for the perpetual scowl she wore. Her hair was long and dark, her eyes were a startling blue, and her mouth was wide and sensuous. Fargo already knew she had an inviting figure from his earliest encounter with her in the barn. It was too bad that she was an outlaw’s daughter and that she’d chosen to follow her father’s way of life.

Fargo grinned at her and said, “I thought you’d sleep a lot longer.”

“I’ve been thinking about what’s going to happen to you when my pa gets through with you,” Angel said. “You won’t be much of a man after he finishes cutting.”

“I don’t plan to give him a chance to start, much less finish.”

“That shows how much you know about it. He runs things around here, and you just haven’t figured it out yet.”

“The way Jed hadn’t?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Why not? You liked him for a while, or so I hear.”

“He could have had everything, but he let his conscience get in the way. He deserved what happened to him.”

She said the word conscience as if it were a curse. And the venom was still in her voice when she talked about Jed’s fate. Fargo didn’t agree with her conclusion, but he didn’t feel like arguing with her. He put his pistol back in the holster and went out to see who was talking to Abby.

It was Lem, back from Johnson’s place, and he was telling Abby a little about what had gone on there. Fargo hadn’t told her because he hadn’t had time. They’d been too concerned with catching up with Angel, and after that he’d been too tired.

“So there’s not going to be a funeral for Sarah?” Abby said when Fargo walked into the kitchen.

“Just a little graveside ceremony for Rip and a couple of her women friends. There won’t be any sitting up with her, either. Everybody’s going to stay close to home for a few days. Some of them are even starting to talk about forming some kind of vigilance committee and doing something about Murray and that gang of his.”