Homeward Angel

By C. D. Gibson-Brown

Homeward Angel is the story of Clarice Marie Wesley. She runs from an attacker and runs for her life. When she finally feels she can catch her breath, she finds herself in the sights of another man. U. S. Marshal, Jesse Noland is strict but kind-hearted. Her heart races when he is near, but can he be trusted? And, even worse, if her attacker finds her, will she have to leave the love of her life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477240113

C. D. Gibson-Brown

C. D. Gibson-Brown lives in Alabama with her husband and teenaged son. She is the oldest daughter of two Air Force retirees and has travelled and lived in many places across the country and overseas. She was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2007 and is now using her writing as a form of therapy. "My writing is my great escape. I hope readers will enjoy taking the journey with me".

Book preview

Homeward

Angel

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C. D. Gibson-Brown

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AuthorHouse™

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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© 2012 by C. D. Gibson-Brown. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/11/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4010-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4011-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912239

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One

Cedar Falls, Wyoming

Chapter Two

Salt Lake City, Utah

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

The Unwelcome Guest

A Sequel to Homeward Angel

Chapter One

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, God for giving me the strength to endure Multiple Sclerosis through my writing. Every day spent writing this book was a day that I didn’t spend focusing on the things that I can no longer do. Instead, I focused on using my God given imagination to weave a story that I hope others will enjoy. To God be the glory.

And, to my loving and patient husband, Lance Lewis Brown, for his support and encouragement that never wavered. Thank you, baby. I love you.

And, to my wonderful and amazing son, Nicholas Carl Gibson, who unselfishly gave up some of his time on Face Book in order for me to complete this book. Your faith in me and never-ending love and support helped me get through the dark days. And, that same love and support helped me cherish the bright and shining days. Thank you, sweetie. I love you.

And last, but certainly not least, to my sister, Elaine. Your encouragement and love help me to keep going every day. Your thoughts and ideas have opened my eyes to, not only what is, but also, what can be. Thank you for your strength and encouragement. I love you.

For Nicholas

Chapter One

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Cedar Falls, Wyoming

The rain that ran down the windowpane mirrored the tears rolling down her face. The sky had slowly darkened into a hue of grey that could only be described as murky. Murky . . . that was a good description of Clarice’s life lately. Everything seemed to be spinning out of control with dizzying speed. She tried to keep a smile on her face and let everyone in town believe that all was right with her world. But, that was far from the truth.

The truth was that the new self-proclaimed marshal in the territory had claimed her for himself six months earlier. Dalton Henley and his gang had ridden into town with a plume of dust one Sunday afternoon. And, Cedar Falls, Wyoming had never been the same. Women and young girls were once able to walk the sidewalks any time of day or evening without fear of being treated like a lady of the night. But, now that Henley and his men had driven the old marshal and his lawmen out of town, nothing was the same. Women were sure to be home before sunset for fear of being caught alone on the sidewalks in town. There were no laws or ordinances that decreed this to be, but it was understood that this was the new way.

And to make matters worse, the worst of the townsmen wanted her. It didn’t matter that she wanted nothing to do with him. Marshal Henley was used to getting whatever he wanted and refused to take no for an answer. Clarice had told him in every way she knew how that she wasn’t interested, but still he persisted. The closer she came to her fifteenth birthday, the worse he got. At first, he would just stand and stare at her until she felt terribly uncomfortable. It was as if he could see right beneath her clothes and liked what he saw. Over time though, his attentions became much more overt and now dangerous. He had begun to creep up behind her and whisper words in her ear that a young lady should never hear. The man had absolutely no respect for women whatsoever. The sad thing was that as old as he was, there was little hope of him ever changing. Henley was twenty-five compared to Clarice’s fifteen years of age. That alone should have been enough to keep him at bay. Of course, it wasn’t.

Earlier today, she’d been admiring a wine-colored dress in a storefront window when she saw his reflection behind her. It had been too late to dodge him or even to say, Get away from me. He placed his hands on the window on either side of her, leaned into her, and said, Well now, good morning Ms. Wesley. He’d flashed his smile that looked like the big, bad wolf about to eat Little Red Riding Hood as he called her by her last name. He always did that. She tried not to let him see that it aggravated her because she knew it would only make it worse. Anything he could do to annoy her was on his game plan for each day.

As usual, Clarice answered, Hello Dalton and hoped that would be the end of the conversation.

Is today the day you finally admit your feelings for me? He waited with anticipation for her answer. He had to know it would be the same as always.

I don’t have feelings for you and never will. What do I have to do or say to get you to leave me alone? You must know this is never going to happen. Why did she even attempt to reason with a man who clearly couldn’t care less about reasoning?

Oh, it’s going to happen. And, you’re really beginning to piss me off. Stop playing hard to get and surrender. I promise you’ll never regret it. I can pleasure you more than your little girl mind could ever imagine. When I’m done with you, you’ll be a woman—my woman. That wolfish grin was on his face again and all she wanted to do was slap it off his face and run to the safety of the nearest place filled with other people.

It was then that he grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around to face him. I’m not playing games with you little girl. I’m tired of waiting for you to come to me. I think it’s time for me to take what I want. Henley’s face held an expression that made it clear to her that he meant business and wasn’t going to back down this time.

Luckily, her mother, Padma Wesley arrived on the scene and Henley turned her loose and eased away pointing his finger at her. He whispered, This isn’t over.

Padma Wesley was an exotically beautiful woman of Shoshone decent. She had a dark, golden brown complexion; long, jet black hair; long legs; and mesmerizing dark eyes. Her marriage to Raymond Wesley was a good one and had brought forth four children that were their pride and joy. But, there was sadness in her eyes that had been there for the past three months. The eldest of her two daughters had been murdered by her husband after months of abuse. Clarice knew her sister was being beaten by her husband, Jonathan Henley, but her sister had sworn her to secrecy.

Clarice remembered her sister’s threat. If I hear of one bad word you’ve said about my husband, I’ll never speak to you again. Clarice and Cherice had always been close. People commented often that their closeness was more like twins than sisters separated by three years. Cherice had been determined that her family would never know about the nightmare she was living every day. Had it been shame? Or had it been the fact that she knew her father and brothers would have gone after her husband with rifles and pistols in hand? The latter would have surely caused the death of them. After all, Jonathan was Marshal Dalton Henley’s cousin. And, if you were related to him or a friend of his, you could get away with anything.

That point had been driven home when Clarice found her sister’s lifeless body on her parlor floor. She had known something was wrong the moment she rounded the curve of the road that passed her sister’s house on her way home from school that day. Normally, she would hear Cherice’s angel-like voice singing hymns as she rounded the curve. But, that day, there had been silence. Clarice ran through the yard yelling, Cherice! Cherice! Please answer me! Please! Cherice! Cherice! The only response was more silence.

She’d found the front door locked and peered through the front window that gave a view of the parlor. Legs . . . her sister’s legs were visible on the floor in front of the couch. She had used a chair from the porch to break the window and climbed in. Running to her sister, she somehow knew it was too late. Falling to the floor, she grabbed and embraced Cherice’s cold, lifeless body and screamed louder than she’d ever screamed before. But, no one heard her. She didn’t know how long she stayed there that way.

It seemed like only moments, but it had actually been about two hours before her brothers came looking for her. The saw the broken window and assumed the house had been broken into. They climbed in and heard the faint sounds of Clarice’s whimpers. Rounding the couch, they saw why she cried. Oh! No! No! No! Come on Cherice! Wake up! Open your eyes! Wake up! With eyes filled with tears she thought would never end, Clarice looked up at them and said, She’s gone. She’s gone.

Finally letting go, Clarice stood and began to walk toward the door as if in a trance. She had only one thing in mind. Jonathan Henley had killed her sister. Cherice had cuts and bruises all over her face and body. The parlor looked like a tempest had blown through it with broken glass and overturned tables and chairs. The truth was obvious. Out on the porch, she turned her attention to the barn.

Justin and Jarrod seemed to notice Clarice’s absence at the same time and knew it could only mean trouble. Justin, the older of the two, ran outside just as Clarice was beginning to ride a horse out of the barn.

Clarice, you can’t do this. The Henleys will kill you. You know that. Please get off the horse and let’s let the law handle this. Justin had tried to reason with her.

What do you mean let the law handle this? Clarice’s mouth was open in disbelief and disappointment. You know Jonathan is Dalton’s cousin. He won’t do anything but protect him.

We have to try. We can’t just take the law into our own hands. That with surely land us all in jail, or get us all killed. It was Jarrod’s voice she’d heard.

So, they were both against her. Neither of them seemed to understand that the law had already failed their sister and would not defend her or her honor now. I’m not waiting on the ‘law’. It doesn’t seem to apply to anyone outside the Henley circle. And with that, she rode off toward town. She didn’t get far before her brothers caught up to her and blocked off her path.

After some quarreling, they convinced her that the best thing was to collect their sister’s body and carry her home. They didn’t know how they were going to tell their mother and father that they had just lost their daughter, but they knew the painful deed had to be done.

Raymond Wesley knew something was wrong when he saw the looks on the faces of his children. Then, he noticed Cherice draped over Justin’s horse. He thought maybe she was unconscious. But then, he looked closer and was horrified to realize she was dead. Dear God in Heaven! My little girl! My little girl! And, with that, he carefully and gently pulled her off the horse and carried her to the house.

Just then, Padma came out of the house, the commotion having drawn her attention away from the supper she’d been preparing. Oh, God! No! No! No! Not my baby! My baby! She could barely make out the faces of her family as she dropped to the ground and began to cry a guttural, almost animalistic cry of agony. There was supposedly an investigation after which Marshal Dalton Henley had declared there wasn’t enough evidence to prove his cousin had killed his wife. Two days later, they buried her beloved sister.

These were the memories Clarice would carry with her for the rest of her life. But now, she had to focus on the problem at hand. How to rid herself of Marshal Henley once and for all?

She still couldn’t figure out how a man could possibly think any lady would welcome the attentions of a man with no respect for them. Naturally, Henley didn’t care what she thought of him. That was of no concern. He simply wanted what he wanted. And what he wanted was to get Clarice in his bed for as long as he wanted. Then, he would throw her away like the many other women he’d bedded down during the past year he’d been in town. Yes, Henley was given a welcome eye by some of the ladies. The ones who couldn’t see through his façade of respectability and honor fell into his trap every time. Clarice was determined that she wouldn’t be one of them.

Growing up, she’d always felt safe and protected by her father and twin older brothers. No one and nothing could harm her. Her father, Raymond Wesley always kept a watchful and loving eye on his beautiful daughter. He knew men found her attractive and that some of them didn’t have the best of intentions. Her older brothers, Justin and Jerrod were like her shadow. Whenever a boy or man would get out of line, one or both of them would suddenly appear as if on a puff of smoke. They were her personal protection.

Clarice didn’t have a care in the world. Everything was going according to plan. She would finish school, get a job, and hopefully gain her complete independence. She knew that at the time, it was extremely uncommon for a woman to support herself, but she knew she could do it. She just needed the chance. So, she was horrified when all of her plans were put in jeopardy because of Marshal Dalton Henley. Her family had been able to protect her from other males, but they were at a loss as to how to protect her from the crooked lawman.

The family had been unable to protect Cherice. She had met and fallen in love with the wrong man. For her love, she paid with her life. It wasn’t going to happen to Clarice.

Snapping back to the present, Clarice realized the rain had stopped. The tears she had shed were now replaced with a burning anger that surged throughout her entire body. She would make the Henleys pay for what they had done to her family. One way or another, they would pay.

Chapter Two

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Salt Lake City, Utah

Jesse Lee Noland had been the marshal for the Salt Lake City, Utah territory for six years. The town had overwhelmingly voted him in to replace his father when he passed away. It had been a lot of responsibility for the nineteen-year-old Jesse. But, he’d adjusted and made it work. Now, at the age of twenty-five, he stood more humiliated and furious than he had ever been in his life.

There was the woman he was supposed to marry within two weeks lying naked beneath Trevor Hastings. Jesse had gone to the home of his betrothed, Anna Belle Hess just to say goodnight on his way home. It had been a long and grueling day. But, he wanted to see her one more time that day. When her father, the town judge, came to the door, he said, Jesse, Anna isn’t here and I don’t know when she’ll be back. Jesse said simply, Okay. Just tell her I stopped by and I’ll see her in town tomorrow.

As he descended the steps of the porch, the though occurred to him. Where could she be this time of night? She was usually home long before now. At least he thought she was.

It was then that he heard muffled sounds coming from the barn. He knew what he was hearing, but had to be sure. So, quietly he walked to the barn and