Fallen Angels by Patricia Hickman Page A

well see what they want. If it's the cuffs, I'll see you get good food in jail.”
    “Could you stop rattling for just a minute?” said Jeb. “I need quietness to think.”
    “It's helped you so far.” Angel kept moving her feet from one side to the next, crossing her legs at the ankles as though she practiced various starlet poses.
    “Willie, you go run on ahead, like you just got a sudden need to stretch your legs. I'll slowly get this mule turned like I'm about to head on into the parsonage. Take this white handkerchief and if it looks like the coast is clear, like they don't know nothin’ about me, then you just jump around and wave like you're playing a game and I'll know I can come on in.” Jeb heaved a breath, his eyes still assessing the deputy's body movements.
    “That's the stupidest idea I ever heard,” said Angel. “Willie jumping around like a fool, what, those men going to think—that he's lost his mind? No, most likely they'll wonder why you was afraid to come up to the parsonage like a man and give them a proper greeting.”
    “Willie, do as I say.” Jeb handed the boy a-handker-chief. “Go on, now.”
    Willie skipped all the way up the dirt lane, waving the hanky, never looking back. When he made it to the deputy's vehicle, Jeb saw them talk back and forth for a second or two. Willie stood with his hands in his pockets, said a few things to Mr. Honeysack and then skipped around back to the parsonage.
    “He didn't wave it, didn't wave the handkerchief,” said Jeb, ready to bolt.
    “Willie's a lot like that, acting like he's following everything you say. Then he can just walk into the next room and completely forget what you just told him.” Angel sat straighter, restless. “Can we go now? That Josie lady's bringing supper by tonight and I want to change out of this dress. Maybe I'll wear that simple thing Evelene gave me, kind of a soft blue with little white petals every now and then along the hem.”
    “The deputy's walking this way,” said Jeb. “You take the reins. I'm going to slip out the back of this wagon and run up through those woods. That's a big old heavy-set fellow. Can't be too fast on foot.”
    “How am I going to drive tins wagon? Do I look like I can make this mule go? Not me.” She stood up and waved at the deputy, who was halfway up the lane by now.
    “I said take the reins.”
    She called out to the deputy, waving her arm in an invitation.
    “Take them now.”
    “Quit telling me what to do.”
    “Fine. Just stand here looking like a fool then.” Jeb leaped over the seat and landed on both feet in the back of the wagon.
    “Reverend Gracie, you having mule problems?” The deputy called to him.
    Jeb stopped when he heard the deputy call him Gracie. He bent over and picked up a board. “You think I ought to hit her up side the head, Deputy?”
    “Poor old beast. Ever since automobiles came around, these poor animals don't know up from down. When I saw that Model-T pass you I wondered if it would spook your animal.”
    “That's what it is, all right. It's spooked.” Jeb jumped out of the wagon. After meeting the sheriff on the dirt road and shaking his hand, he took the mule by the harness and tugged. The animal moved forward.
    “I'm glad you didn't have to give it a whack. Shame to punish it when machinery's to blame,” said the deputy. “I understand you and your family is victims of a robbery. I hated to hear it, what with your just getting into town. Nazareth is a quiet place. Seldom do you hear of crooks in this part of the state. But what with this Depression on, they's outlaws comin’ out of every nook and cranny. If you can give me a description of the boys that did it, I'll bet I can run them down for you.”
    “One had a skinny look about him, but they both had already climbed up inside my truck so I couldn't see all of them. I don't know how tall, but that boy by the Window, he had a tall look, like the top of his head nearly touched the roof of