Angelina stared after Charlie for a moment, then hurried to catch up with him. She reached out to grab his sleeve, then remembered what had happened the last two times she'd touched him without warning. Instead, she ran until she was directly in his path and stopped. She gazed up into his face, his criminally beautiful face, and all her doubts returned. What on earth was she going to do? She was out in the middle of nowhere with a man who admitted to being wanted by the law several times in his life. She remembered a lot of the outlaws from the states often hid out in Texas. For all she knew, he could be Jesse James. She forgot about the murderous stranger who needed to be buried as her fear of the man in front of her returned full force.

"Who are you?" she asked.

His brow creased in confusion. "Have you had too much sun, Angelina? We've got to get you a hat in town. I told you. Charlie. Remember? Charlie Coltrain."

He spoke slowly, as though she were an addled child. Angelina's fear gave way to fury. She had trusted him, prayed for him, believed in him. She deserved the truth.

"I know what you said your name was. But are you telling the truth? For all I know you could have been another member of that gang of men who attacked our wagon." Angelina caught her breath as a memory arose unbidden. "Come to think of it, that last man knew you."

She started to retreat, her gaze darting around the open area for a place to hide.

"No, you don't." Charlie reached for her. In one fluid motion, he grabbed her and yanked her to him. She struggled, kicking and hitting, but he held her easily. She could never match his strength, so she gave up the attempt and went still. Satisfied, he continued. "Angelina, listen to me. I admit I did a lot of things I'm not proud of. I had my reasons. I wasn't lyin' when I said I was on a cattle drive. I plan to buy a ranch in Montana. I just want to be left alone with my cattle and my horses. Is that too much to ask?"

Angelina tilted back her head and searched his eyes for the truth. Usually so cold, his black eyes appeared earnest. She stared into their dark depths, and sudden peace flooded her as he met her gaze without flinching.

"No," she said slowly as she continued to stare into his eyes. "That isn't too much to ask."

Often in the past, in times of stress, she had sought truth from a source deep within. Once again she drew on that source for guidance-and she knew Charlie did not lie. "Our Lord forgave Mary Magdalen. What you've done is between you and Him. I have no right to judge you."

Charlie let out a snort of laughter and released her. "Mary Magdalen. Well, I must say I've never been compared to someone of her persuasion before, though I've been acquainted with quite a few." He slanted his head to the side. "The Lord forgave her, you say? Well, then, maybe I have a chance at heaven after all."

"Don't blaspheme."

"Sister, you ain't heard nothin' yet," Charlie grumbled as he went to retrieve his horse. * * * *

Years of habit die hard. As they neared the outskirts of the small north Texas town, Charlie automatically stuffed his shoulder-length hair up under the crown of his hat. He couldn't count the times he'd been recognized because of the strange silver-gold shade of his hair. Life would have been a whole lot easier if he'd gotten rid of it. But once, long ago, he'd promised someone he loved he would never cut his hair. He'd broken a lot of promises in his life-this was one he could keep.

The town they entered was like hundreds of others on the Texas frontier, not really a town, though the people who lived there liked to think of it as such. Usually a name was applied to any gathering of a saloon, general store and stagecoach stop. A hunk of wood stuck into the ground on the outskirts of this particular gathering read Bakerstown, probably after some long-dead founder of the local whiskey mill.

A few people came out of the buildings lining the dusty trail that served as a main street and watched their approach. From beneath the wide brim of his hat, Charlie observed everyone and everything in sight. He was on edge, though his tension didn't show. Being shot at for the first time in five years had brought back all his latent survival skills full force. The years he had served with Mosby's Rangers during the war had trained him well in guerilla fighting, and he'd honed those skills later with his own gang in Missouri. Remaining calm at all times and never trusting anyone had kept him alive in many tight situations.

They stopped in front of a small general store and Charlie dismounted. He moved to help Angelina from her horse. She had taken off her nun hat, as he had come to think of it, which was probably a good idea. The odd combination of men's clothes and a nun's veil would surely draw attention he didn't want. Depending on what he found here, he wouldn't want either of them to be remembered later should anyone come asking.

Angelina slid from her horse without his assistance, and together they entered the small store.

Inside, Charlie blinked quickly to adjust his eyes to the dimness. One hand rested on his gun; the other hovered near Angelina's arm just in case he had to yank her from harm's way and shoot a path out the door. As his eyes focused, he sighed in relief. The store was empty.

"Ahem."

Charlie turned quickly. One of the men who had come out to observe their approach stood in the doorway.

"You folks lookin' to buy?" the man asked and slid behind the counter with a wary look at Charlie's loaded Colts.

"Yes, sir," Charlie said, coughing to disguise his voice. Next to his hair, his voice gave him away too easily. He took Angelina by the arm and, with a smile at the store owner, drew her aside to whisper in her ear.

"Buy a hat and whatever we need for food." He shoved some money into her hand. "You'll have to wait to get some other clothes. I don't want to hang around anywhere until I know why we were shot at."

Angelina nodded and went to deal with the owner. Charlie wandered around the store, wondering how they could get the information they needed without revealing too much. Several yellowed pieces of paper tacked to the wall near the back caught his attention. One sheet was still uncreased, not yet torn. Charlie moved nearer to read it.

"Hellfire," he muttered. [EXT]

Wanted Dead or Alive Charlie Coltrain For Train Robbery and Murder Outside Dallas, Texas on April 1, 1875 Bounty of One Thousand Dollars [/EXT] Charlie didn't need to read anymore. A quick glance toward the front of the room showed the store owner, still occupied with Angelina. Charlie yanked the poster from the wall and stuffed the paper inside his shirt. While his mind raced, he continued to peruse the other wanted posters as though nothing had happened.

April first? The cattle drive had left San Antonio on April twenty-eighth. On the first he had been in town waiting to leave. He could have robbed a train outside of Dallas and made it to San Antonio by the twenty-eighth. But he hadn't.

The problem was, someone had. And that someone must have looked and acted enough like him so that a dead-or-alive bounty had been issued in his name. Not that such a bounty was a new experience for him, but he'd at least done something those other times to warrant the treatment.

Her shopping completed, Angelina beckoned to Charlie. They carried the purchases outside and tied them on the horses. The store owner watched closely, but did not act as though he were suspicious. Charlie pulled the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. As long as he kept his hair covered and his mouth shut, he might get out of town alive.

"Where you folks headed?"

The man had followed them outside and looked at Charlie expectantly. Charlie smiled and shrugged, glancing at Angelina.

Her brow creased in confusion, but she answered the man. "Corpus Christi."

"You from there?"

"Yes ... uh ... no. I mean ... I am."

"Oh, you visiting family then?"

Charlie coughed again and muttered, "Yeah."

The store owner smiled. "Wife's family, huh? Well, I don't envy you." He shook Charlie's hand. "Have a

good trip and keep an eye out. There's supposed to be a murderer on the loose in these parts. Been so many bounty hunters through here lately you'd think it was a train station. You watch the missus, you hear? Right smart idea havin' her dress like a man. Up close you can see she's a woman, but from afar you'll be safer that way."

Charlie nodded and got on his horse. To his relief, Angelina remained silent and allowed them to get out of town before she started asking questions.

"What on earth came over you?" she demanded.

He shrugged, wondering how much he should tell her. She had been frightened of him after she learned he'd been wanted in the past. What would she think if she saw the wanted poster? For murder, no less.

Then again, maybe he should show it to her and scare her off. She was in danger because of him. Maybe he should send her back to town to wait for the next stage. Still, traveling with her was a good cover. The store owner had believed them to be man and wife. Others would think the same.

"Charlie?" Angelina broke into his thoughts. "Why wouldn't you talk to that man back there? Did you

find out why we were shot at?"

Charlie sighed. She had to know. Slowly he reached inside his shirt and withdrew the wanted poster. He reined his horse to a halt. Angelina did the same and he handed her the paper.

Her eyes widened as she read the words.

"What is this?" she asked.

"You can see what it is, Angelina. I'm wanted-dead or alive-for murder and train robbery. With that

kind of reward, every bounty hunter and lawman in this state and a few others will be after me." He looked behind them, squinting against the late afternoon sun to see if they were being followed.

"But you didn't do it."

He jerked his head back in her direction so fast his neck creaked in protest. "What?"

"You didn't do this. You wouldn't."

"What makes you think that?" he asked, dumbfounded at her certainty.

"You're a good man inside. You saved me, twice in two days. An evil man wouldn't have troubled himself."

"Angelina," he said, then drew a deep breath, uncertain of how to deal with such unwarranted faith in him. God, she was so young. "I've robbed and I've killed in my life. I admit, this time I didn't do it. That doesn't mean I haven't done it before."

"I told you, what you've done in the past is between you and God. It's what you do from now on that

matters."

"I could go back to bein' what I was. Easy. I've only had an honest job for a week, and I'm already wanted again. May as well go back to robbin'. The pay is better, the work is easier and I'm damn good at it."

"But you won't," she assured him serenely.

"Quit sayin' that!" he shouted, losing his temper for the first time in years.

"Why? I'm only telling the truth."

"You don't know anything about me. I've done whatever I pleased all my life and damn the

consequences. It's just been luck and skill that's kept me from hangin'. You should be runnin' back to

that town as fast as you can. Get away from me, Sister. I'm nothin' but trouble."

Incredibly, she smiled. His jaw tightened as it did whenever she looked at him in just that way. He'd only been with her a few days and already his mouth ached. If he had to save a woman, why did it have to be the one woman in the world who could drive him to the point of insanity?

"Let's go, Charlie," she urged. "The Sisters need me. Once I get there, you can go to the sheriff and explain you weren't the one who robbed that train."

"Right. And he'll believe me. You've obviously never had any dealings with my side of the law, Angelina. With a dead-or-alive bounty of one thousand dollars, I'll be shot long before I get near any sheriff."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued right over her protests. "Anyway, there's been a change of plans. Texas isn't healthy for me anymore. We're on our way to Mexico, Sister."

Charlie couldn't help but smile in satisfaction as Angelina at last fell silent. For a would-be nun she was awful mouthy.

Chapter Three.

Charlie had to be joking. Mexico? Angelina would not go back there. She had left her father's hacienda a year ago for the convent in Corpus Christi, vowing never to return. God had called her to the life she now led by showing her the golden angel in her dreams. She belonged with the church. She had chosen the church. In Mexico she was no more than chattel.

"No!" she shouted, startling herself with the force of her anger. "I won't go back there."

"What's wrong with you?"

"You said we were going to Mexico."

"I did. Nothin' wrong with your hearin', Sister."

"I'm paying you to take me to Corpus Christi. I must get to the convent. People need me there."

Charlie looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "I'm wanted in Texas. Over the Rio Grande, the law can't follow me, though the bounty hunters won't be so particular. If I stay hid long enough, they'll eventually give up. Then I can come back, use a different name and find out what the hell is goin' on."

"I am not going to Mexico," she said slowly and clearly, fighting against the panic rising within her at the thought. "Not now and not ever again."

She kicked her horse into motion. Smiling inwardly at the look of surprise that flashed across Charlie's face, she left him and his mount in the dust.

Angelina let her horse have its head for several minutes. Then she risked a glance over her shoulder. Charlie wasn't following her. Instead, from what she could see, he seemed to have turned off the trail and headed west-toward the Rio Grande and Mexico.

She heaved a sigh of relief. If he had chosen to, he could have caught her easily with that massive white horse. The animal looked as though it had been bred for speed as well as stamina. Though obviously a glorious animal and the best of the crop from the outlaws who had attacked her, Charlie's mount would have outrun her horse without much effort.

At her command, the horse slowed to a more sedate pace. Angelina looked around her. Unfortunately they had been headed out of Bakerstown in the direction of Corpus Christi. To return to the town and take the stage, she would have to turn around and go toward Charlie. Though he had been riding west, she didn't trust him to keep heading that way.

Well, she would just have to travel on to the next town by herself. She was on a well-used trail, and she had most of the supplies. She could make it.