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After Hud fielded the marshal’s questions about the reports of Comanche and Kiowa raids against supply wagons and the threat of Mexican and white outlaw gangs stealing everything they could carry off, he stopped in for a long-awaited drink at a saloon.
First thing in the morning he would seek out Miss High-and-Mighty Price and arrange for the return trip to camp. He dreaded the jaunt and the unwanted company, but at least this escort detail would take only a few days. Then he could concentrate on finding Mad Joe Jarvis and his sidekick, Pete Spaulding.
Bri had been lingering in the shadows of the alley, watching the brawny stranger break up the brawl between the lecherous bastard who’d grabbed her and the drunken cowboy who’d tried to come to her defense—and had accidentally gotten in her way. She would’ve had that stinking hide hunter laid out like a corpse in the dirt, suffering a brain-scrambling blow to his hard head if the cowboy hadn’t charged in.
She hadn’t lost the knack of self-defense, she mused proudly. Benji Dunlop had taught her well. She remembered every dirty trick and had used several on the drunken brute before she knocked him to his knees. What she didn’t know was why she’d allowed the tall, muscular stranger to approach her when she could have lost herself in the shadows of the alley, despite his claim that he could track her down.
After the stranger and the marshal hauled the two men to jail, Bri wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders and scuttled back to the hotel. She could rest easy now. She had contacted the livery owner and purchased a sturdy mount and had gathered a few supplies as well. However, she had yet to hire a dependable guide. She frowned pensively, wondering where she might find a reliable escort in a town jumping alive with scoundrels.
Perhaps she could hire the stranger, she mused as she locked the door to her hotel room. He was obviously competent. She had watched him break up a street fight without sustaining so much as a scratch.
Bri removed her gown to stitch up the shoulder seam the hide hunter had ripped loose when he became pushy and insistent.
On second thought, it wouldn’t be wise to approach the ruggedly handsome stranger she’d brazenly kissed twice in the same night. If he recognized her, he might presume that he was entitled to fringe benefits during their cross-country jaunt.
Then again, if he didn’t recognize her…
Bri set aside her mended gown to prepare for bed. Maybe she would approach the stranger and test the waters. If he didn’t recognize her she might offer him a job as her guide. He’d proven himself capable of handling adversity this evening. Whoever and whatever he was, he had remained cool and collected while breaking up the brawl.
Bri admired that about him. Not to mention her appreciation of the arousing way he kissed. The erotic thought sent wicked pleasure rippling through her. Smiling secretively, Bri laid her head on her pillow and fell fast asleep. Two hours later she awakened in the middle of such a vivid fantasy that her body burned with forbidden desire. Chastising herself, she crammed the pillow over her head and tried to sleep without dreaming.
Eaton glanced at his bejeweled pocket watch. He’d bought a round of drinks and encouraged the saloon patrons to cast their votes for him in the upcoming election. Impatiently he finished off his drink and killed another few minutes before the clandestine meeting he’d arranged with his new associate.
He swallowed a grin, remembering that Sylvia would be waiting for him when he concluded his business. Eaton cast aside the lusty thought as he sauntered from the saloon to the gaming hall. When the three men appeared on the boardwalk, he inclined his head toward the alley.
Eaton tapped the butt of the pistol he carried beneath his expensive jacket to make sure he was still armed—just in case. Muggings were commonplace in this hellhole and he didn’t intend to become a victim while he arranged for his newfound friend’s hirelings to deal effectively with Gabrielle.
“Now, what is this task you require, in exchange for my financial support and your political loyalty?” Ray Novak asked then puffed on his cigar.
Eaton surveyed his new cohort’s bulky physique and bushy eyebrows. The rancher shared the same fetish of dressing in the finest clothing money could buy. A man after my own heart, Eaton thought as he walked deeper into the shadows of the alley so no one could overhear him.
“I’m having a problem with my contrary fiancée,” he murmured. “I trust your two men can make the necessary accommodations. I intend to teach her a lesson and to promote my campaign. Of course, this favor will benefit you as well.”
“Count on it.” Novak smiled around the cigar he had clamped between his teeth.
Then Eaton got down to the dirty business of hammering out the details.
The next morning Bri started when someone rapped abruptly on her hotel room door. She glanced at her watch, surprised Eaton had piled out of bed at this early hour, even if he was driven by the need to convince her to reconsider their engagement.
“Not a chance in hell that I will change my mind,” she vowed as she opened the door. She blinked in surprise when the brawny stranger who had tormented her dreams loomed on the threshold, not Eaton.
“Miss Price, I presume.”
His deep, resonant voice rolled over her. She was quick to note that he didn’t seem surprised to see her. There was no flicker of recognition in his whiskey-colored eyes that were surrounded by thick black lashes. He was as tall as she remembered and his face was tanned. Raven hair protruded from beneath the brim of his hat.
Although he wore buckskin breeches and a dark button-down shirt that looked the worse for wear, he filled out the garments exceptionally well. He did indeed possess broad shoulders and long muscular arms, just as she remembered. Double holsters that sported pearl-handled peacemakers encircled his lean waist. He had horseman’s thighs and he wore scuffed high-heeled boots designed to remain in the stirrups when breaking speed records on the back of a horse.
This was definitely the man she had kissed last night. Minus the bristly whiskers, she tacked on. Now he was clean-shaven and she wondered if she’d enjoy kissing him even more without those whiskers.
Bri mentally pinched herself when she realized she was staring at his sensuous lips and studying his striking appearance like a dazzled schoolgirl. It amazed her that she felt such an instant and compelling physical attraction to him. For all she knew he might be a hired killer. Whatever his profession, he was appealing—in a rugged sort of way—and he drew her attention and held it fast.
When his alert gaze roved over her plain blue cotton gown then refocused on her face, she didn’t know why she felt insulted by what appeared to be his indifference and his quick dismissal. Nonetheless, she was disappointed. She swore that she saw him smirk before he schooled his face in a carefully disciplined stare. Obviously he’d taken one look at her and found her lacking.
True, she wasn’t wearing the most expensive gown she owned and she didn’t approve of putting on airs the way Eaton did, but she did look presentable…didn’t she? She looked better than when she wore the dowdy gray gown, bonnet and shawl that practically made her invisible in the shadows.
“And your name is?” she replied while he studied her with a stare that was no more flattering than the first.
Honestly, she might not be a raving beauty like some of the debutantes who attended soirées in Austin, but she’d never had a man show such a complete lack of interest. Usually men paid her more attention than she preferred.
“Captain Hudson Stone,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. “You can call me Hud. Your father ordered me to contact you. I am to escort you to camp since he is on inspection and is occupied with field reports.” He stared pointedly at her. “Perhaps you can schedule your next visit during a time when the commander isn’t exceptionally busy. You might save both of us valuable time.”
She arched a challenging brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you lecturing me, Captain?”
“Is that what it sounded like?”
Hud stared at her with feigned innocence and watched her hypnotic indigo eyes flicker with irritation. If she was upset by his insult then too damn bad. He was tired, cranky and annoyed that she was so strikingly attractive that it took all his willpower not to react to her. He wanted her to be the female version of Winston Price. She was anything but.
She was positively alluring with those almond-shaped eyes that were rimmed with long sooty lashes. Her oval face was the color of peaches and cream and her pert nose gave her a bit of an impish appearance. Her curly mane of gold hair seemed to catch fire in the early morning light that streamed through the window. He had to clench his fist to prevent himself from burying his hand in those flaming curls.
Hud hated that he found everything about Gabrielle Price appealing. Lusting after an engaged woman was unacceptable. Especially this one. She was also the commander’s daughter.
“I don’t know what I have done to annoy you, Captain. Or are you just one of those surly individuals who wakes up in a bad mood and never overcomes it?” she asked with a sticky-sweet smile.
Extremely attractive…except for that sassy mouth, he corrected. Maybe that’s what Commander Price meant when he claimed Gabrielle was unique.
When she snapped her fingers in his face, disciplining him like an absentminded child, he jerked up his head and glared down at her from his superior height. His steely-eyed stare didn’t faze her one whit, he noted.
Feisty and combative, too, he mused, adding to the list of her annoying traits. The more the better, he thought.
“Damn good thing you’re pretty,” he muttered under his breath.
“Say again?” she demanded.
He shrugged. “Nothing important.”
“I figured as much. I’m sure my father kept his best Rangers for patrol duty and left you for me.”
He bared his teeth. Not to be outdone, she did the same. They were off to a rocky start. Not that he cared. Escort detail kept him from his crusade to avenge Speck Horton. Because of this delay, a cold trail would be damn hard to follow.
And that snide remark she’d made about other Rangers being more competent? He’d like to shake her until her teeth rattled for saying that.
“You saved me the trouble of seeking out a guide,” she commented as she strode over to gather her two satchels. “I still can replace you if you prefer. Apparently you have taken an instant disliking to me, Captain.”
She had that right…and wrong. He liked her—in an exasperating sort of way that defied common sense. He had expected a whiny little daisy of a female. Instead, he had clashed with an iron-willed woman who didn’t back down easily and gave exactly what she got. He doubted she could follow orders worth a damn, either. Despite the fact that her father had spent two decades in military service and law enforcement, he hadn’t managed to teach Gabrielle Price discipline.
When Hud dallied too long in thought, she snapped her fingers at him again, which aggravated the hell out of him.
“Well? Shall I seek out someone else, Stone? Are these questions too difficult for you? I can speak slower if necessary,” she taunted unmercifully.
Hud blew out a breath. “No, I’m under direct orders from your father,” he replied in a brusque tone. “With any luck, we will dodge bloodthirsty outlaws and Indian war parties to reach bivouac without killing each other. I’m up to the challenge if you are.”
“Definitely.” She nodded her head and sunlight sparkled in that glorious mass of curly golden hair again. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”
“At first light tomorrow…if you can drag yourself from bed that early,” he added caustically.
She smiled snidely at him. “I’m an early riser. As you can see, the early bird is here to greet the worm.”
Bri bit back a grin when Hud’s amber gaze narrowed on her. If he wanted to continue exchanging insults, she was up to the challenge. In fact, she rather enjoyed matching wits with this particular Ranger, who obviously drew the short straw when it came to unwanted escort detail. He was stuck with her and he wasn’t the least bit happy about it. He had no qualms about voicing his displeasure, either.
“I see no reason why we can’t leave this morning,” she insisted. “I’m packed and ready to ride.”
“I have other duties to attend while I’m in town.”
“Like what? A visit to the nearest brothel and saloons? A diversion to compensate for the unpleasant duty of acting as my guide?”
“Precisely. You’re more insightful than I anticipated,” he countered. “Might as well have some fun when I can. Clearly, we aren’t going to get along well during our journey through a region where danger is the rule, not the exception. I’m warning you now that this is no place for the faint of heart and the tender of foot.”
She snickered at his turn of phrase.
“I’ll give you a day’s rest so you can keep the swift pace I set, Mizz Price.” He stepped closer, eclipsing her with his size and stature. “Just so you know, my longtime friend and fellow Ranger was murdered recently. I was trying to track down the bastard who shot Speck Horton in the back, stole his badge and left him to coyotes. Have you ever seen what a pack of hungry coyotes can do to a man, Mizz Price?”
She grimaced at the bleak prospect. “No.”
“Consider yourself lucky because it isn’t pretty. Speck was my friend and dragging myself here to fetch a greenhorn, who arrived on a foolhardy whim doesn’t set well with me.”
He stared her down—and he was good at it, damn his brawny hide. “If you and your fiancé had any brains in your heads you’d catch the next stagecoach out of here and wait for your father’s return to Austin to visit him. They don’t call this place Hell’s Fringe for nothing. So pay attention when you sashay down the boardwalk today. And do not go out at night unless you have a death wish.”
She would love to tell this hard-bitten Ranger captain that she could take care of herself, thank you very much. But he was all puffed up like a spitting cobra and it was difficult to get a word in edgewise.
“People in these parts get their throats slit for the coins in their pockets,” he said bluntly. “And you don’t want to know what can happen to a defenseless woman. Just last night a female came dangerously close to being mauled and raped by a drunken hide hunter.”
Not as close as you think, she mused. The foul-smelling brute was seeing double after she clobbered him with the broken wagon yoke she’d found in the garbage bin.
“Are you quite finished trying to scare me, Captain Stone? You can go now.” She flicked her wrist dismissively, doing a fair impersonation of Eaton at his snobbish best.
“Quite finished,” he grunted out as he stepped across the threshold into the hall. “Tell your fiancé to keep his wits about him while he’s escorting you around town.”
Bri didn’t bother to mention that Eaton was her ex-fiancé and that he wasn’t accompanying her cross-country. “I might leave him behind,” she declared flippantly. “That will give me more opportunity to charm and seduce you, Captain.”
“Even if I were interested, which I’m not, it would be a waste of your time,” he shot back. “I don’t dally with an engaged woman, especially when she is my commander’s daughter.”
The insult provoked her to thrust back her shoulders and tilt her chin indignantly. “Change of plans, Captain,” she snapped. “I’ll make my own way to camp or find another guide.”
“Like hell you will.”
“Consider yourself officially dismissed. I’ve had quite enough of you. Goodbye and good riddance!” she said before she slammed the door in his face.
Hud halted at the top of the staircase and cursed himself up one side and down the other. He had been rude, sarcastic and harsh with the commander’s daughter. But she had set him off with that sassy mouth, he thought self-righteously. Moreover, it annoyed him that she was so stunningly attractive and that he had to go to great lengths to pretend not to notice. Plus, she was quick-witted and she rose to every challenge. She impressed him—and annoyed the living hell out of him at once. Which made dealing with her a nightmare.
Muttering, he tramped downstairs to have breakfast with Marshal Long, who had requested that Hud add a few more names to his Black Book that he carried to keep track of fugitives. Several Wanted posters had arrived with the mail from the stagecoach. Sparrow wanted Hud to update the other Rangers about the outlaws who had been described and identified as perpetrators of various crimes in the region.
Hud’s Black Book—or Bible II, as he and the other Rangers referred to their source of information—was invaluable in the field. He had noted physical descriptions, clothing styles, preferences of weapons and aliases on dozens of outlaws known to be prowling the area.
The damn book was getting so thick that it barely fit into his vest pocket, he mused as he strode to the café.
Hud scanned the street, wondering if Mad Joe Jarvis might be in town. It was a possibility. Before he veered into the café to join Sparrow, he stared up at the second-story window of the hotel. Now that he had settled his ruffled feathers he regretted giving the commander’s daughter such a rough time.
Well, he’d apologize bright and early the next morning and find a way to return to her good graces—if she had any. The last thing he needed was for the commander’s daughter to run crying to daddy and have him dishonorably discharged. Fiery and contrary as she was, she might do it to spite him.
Hud barked a laugh. He could just imagine what Gabrielle Price thought of him. He made a mental note never to ask her directly. Articulate as she was, she’d have a field day categorically listing everything she disliked about him.
Bri spent the day dodging Eaton, who rapped on her door three separate times. If he thought he could persuade her to change her mind about their betrothal, he was sorely mistaken. After he strutted off to take supper without her, Bri donned one of her drab gray gowns, shawl and bonnet so she could roam the streets and alleys as she had done often in Houston with Benji Dunlop at her side.
She came upon three young lads who were scrounging through trash bins for anything they could sell. She stood in the shadows behind the general store, watching the teenage boys. The scene reminded her so much of Benji that her throat closed up with emotion. She clutched the treasured pocket watch in her fist as she stepped into view.
“What’d you be wantin’, lady?” the oldest boy demanded sharply.
She appraised the gangly boy, who looked to be fourteen—or thereabouts. “Find anything in the garbage worth keeping?” she asked conversationally.
The boys eyed her warily, ready to break and run if she made a threatening move toward them.
“Not much. You expect us to share what we got with you?” the second lad, whose long face was surrounded with frizzy hair, demanded gruffly.
Bri shook her head. “No, I’m here to share what I have with you.” She retrieved three silver dollars from her pocket and tossed one to each boy. “These are compliments of Benji Dunlop.”
“Who’s Benji Dunlop?” the youngest, cherub-faced lad asked as he rubbed his grimy fingers over the shiny coin.
“The best friend I ever had. He roamed the back alleys of Houston. His home was a hut made of crates that he fashioned behind a saloon. He shared whatever he had with me.” She glanced around curiously. “Where do you call home?”
The tallest boy hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “We got a fortress of sorts under a broken-down wagon behind one of the freight offices.”
Bri tossed each boy another silver dollar. “Dinner is on Benji tonight. Enjoy it.”
When she turned away, the second ragamuffin called after her. “What’s yer name, lady?”
“I’m just a friend who cares about you.”
A pleased smile pursed Bri’s lips when she heard the boys bounding off, whooping and hollering excitedly. Now that she knew where the boys lived, she hurried off to see their makeshift home. She shook her head in dismay when she located the wagon that served as their sleeping quarters. Broken crates were piled around the dilapidated wagon. Beneath it, tattered blankets served as bedding.
She decided right then and there that she was going to improve the boys’ living conditions and offer them a new start. They would at least have a chance to make a decent life for themselves.
Wheeling around, Bri strode quickly toward the street. She halted near the boardwalk and clung to the shadows as several men, who reeked of sweat and whiskey, sauntered past her. Then her gaze settled on the brawny silhouette of the man who exited the saloon across the street. She shrank back when his gaze settled directly on her. For a moment, she swore those golden cat eyes could pierce the darkness and he could see as well at night as he could in daylight. Would he recognize her?
Bri ducked her head and scuttled down the boardwalk toward the hotel. No matter what, she wasn’t going to allow Captain Hudson Stone, the hard-hearted Ranger, to recognize her. Unfortunately, he crossed the street, eating up the ground with his long, swift strides.
“Curse it,” she muttered under her breath. She darted into the nearest alley and melted into the shadows. But wouldn’t you know that he’d pursue her relentlessly, same as he had last night.
“So we meet again,” he murmured as he halted in front of the place where she lurked in a pool of inky shadows.
