the saying goes?"

"I won't ask."

"No, you won't ask." The corner of Charlie's mouth tilted upward. "You'll beg."

His taunting words and the confidence in his tone caused a resurgence of her earlier anger, and she

reached past him to jerk open the door to the church. He chuckled and followed her into the cool, silent interior.

At their entrance, the village priest appeared. He hurried down the aisle, pausing in front of them to frown

at Charlie's gunbelt.

"Senor, this is a house of God. No such weapons are necessary."

"I'm just escortin' the lady. I'll wait back here." He pointed to a pew next to the door.

After a second's hesitation the priest nodded his assent and turned to Angelina. "How can I help you, senorita?"

The priest's bald head was ringed with a circle of gray hair. His face, tanned by the Texas sun and lined from age and exposure to the elements, was open and friendly. His voice held a hint of an accent, just as hers did. Immediately she felt a bond with this man. She understood the church and the people of it. The uncertainty that had plagued her since she'd met Charlie disappeared, and she smiled in relief. "I wish to make my confession, Father. I am a postulate with the Sisters of the Incarnate Word and the Blessed Sacrament in Corpus Christi. My-a-he-" She gestured helplessly at Charlie, who smirked. Why did he seem so much larger and more dangerous within the confines of the sacred building? She looked away and focused her attention back on the priest. "He's taking me to my family in Mexico for a few weeks. I wish to confess before we go on the trail."

"Of course, my child. Follow me."

Angelina did so eagerly. Though she would have to confess her sinful desires for Charlie within the confines of the confessional, that was entirely different from explaining him in the middle of the church.

She entered her side of the enclosed structure and crossed herself. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," she said, the familiar words giving her solace as they always did.

She barely heard the answer of the priest, so familiar was she with the ritual.

"I have lusted in my heart and in truth," she admitted. "Never before have I felt these emotions. I don't know what to do."

"You must be strong. Fight your weakness. Remember your devotion to God that brought you to your convent. You are young yet. There are many years ahead of you in which you must remain faithful to the promises you will soon make. Do not give in at the first sign of temptation."

Angelina sighed. That was her problem. She had never been tempted before. It had been so very easy to remain chaste when she'd never experienced the burn of desire.

"My child?" the priest asked. "Is the man who brought you here the one of which you speak?"

"Yes, Father."

"Hmm. Very worldly. He can't be good for you. Why are you with him?"

"I-I have no choice." Angelina paused, uncertain of how to explain.

The priest spoke into the strained silence. "God has a reason for everything He does. Perhaps you should search for His reason in this. God wants something of you. Pray and listen to God's voice from within."

"Yes, Father."

Angelina finished her confession with only half her attention, the desire to submit to God's will at war with her reluctance to return home. She soothed herself with the thought that her father would undoubtedly send her immediately back to Corpus Christi. He didn't want to see her any more than she wanted to see him, and the few hours she could spend with her mother would be worth the trouble.

It was obvious, for reasons unclear to her, that God wished for her to return to Mexico. Whenever she tried to go her own way or tried to convince Charlie to deliver her to Corpus Christi, some disaster descended upon them and forced her in the direction of Mexico.

She would take the priest's advice and pray for guidance, as well as patience and obedience. But despite her calling, her training and her genuine devotion to God's work, Angelina didn't know if she could force herself to return to her father's house without a fight.

Charlie watched Angelina exit the confessional. She looked different from when she'd gone in. He frowned and studied her more closely. What was it?

She walked down the aisle toward the back of the church, and when she reached him, she stopped and looked up. She smiled, the expression lighting her entire face and shining through her eyes.

Charlie's heart contracted. Why would she look at him like that? As though he were the most wonderful man on earth in her eyes. Hell, he'd done nothing to warrant such an expression. He'd nearly destroyed her greatest dream by taking her innocence on a whorehouse bed. If it hadn't been for Luanne coming in when she had, he wasn't sure if he could have stopped himself from finishing what he'd started. There was something about Angelina that had him more on edge than he'd ever been in his life. He'd never been drawn to virgins. He'd never had one that he could remember. So it couldn't be her innocence he lusted after. Or maybe he was just becoming even more depraved in his old age. He was disgusted with himself.

"Charlie?"

Angelina's voice broke into his thoughts. She still stared at him with happiness shining from her face.

"What happened in there? You look-" His voice drifted off. He didn't know how she looked-at peace, calm, tranquil. Feelings he had no notion of.

"I talked with the father and he made some things clear to me."

"You think he'd like to make some things clear to me? Like how I ended up with a bounty on my head when I didn't do nothin'."

"I'm sure if you wanted to confess, he'd be happy to listen."

Charlie snorted. The very idea of confessing his sins was laughable. There wouldn't be enough time left on earth for that confession.

"I think I'll pass, Sister. Spare the good father from havin' a seizure." He paused and listened.

Horses approached at a sedate pace. Waving Angelina behind him, Charlie went to the door and peered out. The sky was beginning to darken with approaching night. But he could still make out a man astride Gabe, another horse trailing behind. Nodding to Angelina, Charlie opened the door just enough for the two of them to slip outside.

"Any trouble?" Charlie asked as the man stopped the horses and dismounted.

"Nope." He handed Charlie the reins. "That Ranger sure can ride though. If it hadn't been for your horse, he might've caught us. Helps that he's not familiar with the territory around here. Lost him about two hours ago."

"Much obliged for your help."

"Forget it. I'd do anything for Luanne."

"Me, too," Charlie replied absently while checking his stirrups.

"Well, if you mean that, then stay away from here, mister. She don't need any trouble."

Charlie paused and glanced over his shoulder. The other man shuffled nervously. Charlie sighed. How

many times in his life had he been told not to return to a place? He couldn't remember. For some reason, this particular warning grated on him.

"Charlie isn't trouble."

Angelina's voice, firm and sure, interrupted the angry words that lay like iron atop Charlie's tongue. He glanced at her. She frowned severely at the other man.

"He's innocent of the charges against him in that poster."

"You know that for sure, miss?"

"Yes, I do."

"How?"

"Because he told me so."

"Uh-huh. Well, you'll pardon me, miss, if I don't take his word for it." The man turned and headed back

toward the whorehouse.

Angelina stepped forward, her mouth opened to speak further.

"Don't." Charlie stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Why not? I can't believe you're going to let him get away with calling you a liar."

"What would you have me do, Angelina? Shoot him? That's what it'll take to make him shut up. Then I'd

be exactly what he accused me of bein'."

Angelina remained silent. He could see his words had made her think. Maybe now she'd understand he

wasn't the hero she thought him to be. Charlie reluctantly removed his hand from her arm and finished readying the horses.

"Come on," he said gruffly when he was done.

She obeyed stiffly, and when Charlie put his hands on her waist to help her onto the horse, the shocked

hiss of her breath proved her mind had been elsewhere. So small, Charlie marveled. His hands spanned her waist, even though he had seen for himself she wore no corset. He could feel the warmth of her flesh beneath the horrid brown dress Luanne's cook had given her. She smelled like warm woman-a scent somewhere between earthy and sweet. He had to grit his teeth to keep from turning her around in his arms and nuzzling her neck. Such thoughts had only gotten him into a mess of trouble before.

With a sudden movement, Charlie hoisted Angelina into the saddle, then released her immediately. She landed on the horse with a surprised squeak and scrambled to sit up as he walked off toward Gabe.

He had promised not to touch her. No, that wasn't right. He had promised not to touch her unless she asked him to. Charlie was sure he could make her ask him if he put his mind to the task. But he had a feeling he would be sorrier than he'd ever been about anything in his life if he seduced Angelina. Not only would he hurt her; he'd destroy what was left of himself.

With a curse, Charlie swung onto Gabe's back and kicked the horse into a gallop. He didn't look back to see if Angelina followed.

The way his luck was running, he knew she did.

Chapter Five.

"Thieving, murdering Reb traitor," Drew shouted at the night sky. His horse shied, and he cursed, under his breath this time, while he soothed the animal with his hands. For the past hour he had tried to avoid admitting the truth. But he couldn't any longer.

He'd lost Coltrain.

If it hadn't been for that damn white horse, he would have caught the man. But there was nothing he could do. The outlaw had the better mount, and Coltrain seemed to know the area north of Blue Creek very well.

Drew stopped his horse and prepared to make camp. He would have to retrace his steps in the morning to find out where he'd gone wrong. At worst he could return to Blue Creek and talk to the pretty brown-eyed whore. If he didn't miss his guess, she was hiding something. Maybe she was the mysterious link to Coltrain. Even if she wasn't, he wouldn't mind paying for an hour of her time. All that tumbled dark hair and wide-eyed innocence intrigued him.

Drew sighed. He hadn't been interested in a woman since....

"Aw, hell. Let's not start that now," he muttered as he started a fire and put the coffee on to boil. He would have to remain awake all night since he wouldn't put it past Coltrain to double back and try to surprise him. If he started to think about Claire, his mind would not be on the danger at hand.

Instead, to keep at bay the memories that fueled his desire for vengeance, he sat down near the flames and leaned back against his saddle. Drawing forth a piece of paper from his pocket. Drew settled in to read.

[EXT].

January 15, 1873 Dear Capt. Winston: Your request for information regarding Charlie Coltrain and his brother Bill was forwarded to me from the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Bill Coltrain was shot and killed by myself and another Pinkerton agent in Second Chance during the summer of 1870. As far as I know, the remaining members of the Coltrain Gang, including Charlie, have left Missouri. Since many of the former members of the Confederacy, especially the guerrilla fighters, have taken up residence in Texas, I suggest you search there for Charlie. If I hear anything more, I will contact you.

Sincerely, Jake Parker Second Chance, Missouri [/EXT].

Drew stared at the creased-and-folded paper for several moments, then carefully returned it to his pocket. He had taken Parker's advice and come to Texas, eventually joining the Rangers when his funds and his information ran out.

Drew had spent years seeking Coltrain over the vast reaches of Texas. But outlaws always turned up somewhere-either dead or alive-and Charlie had finally turned up robbing trains and shooting engineers. What Drew couldn't figure out was why a smart man like Coltrain had not hightailed it to Mexico and disappeared along with his money. Why had Charlie joined a cattle drive, using his own name, and begun a trip to New Mexico?

Maybe the outlaw was even smarter than everyone thought, since he had managed to leave the drive and disappear into Texas despite the sizable bounty on his head. Since Drew had lost him, there was no telling where Coltrain would turn up next-and who he would hurt in the meantime.

The coffee was ready and he leaned forward to pour himself a cup, grimacing at the first taste of the bitter liquid. If he kept drinking, he knew the coffee would start to taste better as the night slept on, growing colder and darker and lonelier. He didn't want to sleep anyway. Until he brought Charlie Coltrain to justice-by the law or his own hand-Drew would only dream of Claire and what might have been.

As soon as the day grew light enough for him to see the ground. Drew packed up and mounted his horse. A few hours later he picked up the trail of Coltrain's big white horse and began to follow it.

As the sun neared its zenith. Drew peered at the horizon and frowned.