The Ranger's Woman. Carol Finch
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a kick in the flanks when he tried to walk inside. “Get out and stay out, you fleabag.”
Piper whacked her cane against the man’s shins before he could give the poor pup another painful kick. “Leave him alone!” While the barrel-bellied man glowered at her, she surveyed the shadowy dining area, listening to the buzzing of flies, noting the table still had food stuck to it from previous meals. “You may bring my meal outside and don’t be stingy with the portions. In fact, I’ll have two plates for supper,” she insisted as she plucked a coin from her reticule then handed it to the proprietor.
Leaving the man staring after her, Piper spun on her heels and hobbled off.
The pup followed devotedly behind her.
“That old lady sure is full of spit and vinegar, ain’t she?” the manager said to Quinn.
“Seems to be,” he murmured absently as he watched her move more swiftly than he might have expected of someone in her declining years.
The proprietor dipped up several cups of beans and sloshed them on the tin plates. “Here,” he said. “You take these out to the witch and tell her not to waste food on that mutt because he’s slated for execution. He showed up here two days ago and keeps trying to chase the horses for entertainment. I won’t put up with that. These horses have to stay in tip-top shape to pull the coaches.”
Carrying two platters of greasy beans, stale bread and a chunk of meat he couldn’t identify because it was burned to a crisp, Quinn strode over to the shade tree where the dragon lady had plunked down, her faithful mutt by her side.
“Don’t get too attached to the mutt,” Quinn cautioned as he handed her one plate and set the other one on the grass for the dog. “The manager is talking extermination. This could be the mutt’s last meal.”
Quinn started when the woman suddenly bounded to her feet with considerable speed and agility.
She thrust her plate back at him. “We’ll just see about that! Extermination indeed!”
And off she went, leaving Quinn to watch the mutt slurp up the beans, then devour the bread in two gulps. A moment later the crone approached, carrying another plate of beans. In disbelief, Quinn watched her set a second plate between the mutt’s oversize front paws.
“No one is going to turn you into tomorrow’s main course,” she told the dog in that nasal voice that reminded Quinn of someone raking fingernails across a blackboard. “Your miserable life just got better, dog. Wish I could say the same for mine.”
Quinn rolled his eyes when the woman plunked down to pat the mutt’s head while he gobbled the second helping of food. What was wrong with this woman? She could be civil and caring to a scroungy mutt, but she wanted nothing to do with him?
Well, what else was new? he asked himself as he handed her the supper plate, then walked off to take his meal indoors. He had been fighting for respect and acceptance for most of his life and never got it. He had been fighting, period. Hell, it was all he knew.
Since when did you start brooding over the hand fate dealt you, Callahan? You just play your cards the best you can and consider yourself lucky. Your life could be worse. You’ve already seen the worst humanity can rain down on each other. Just right the wrong and see to it that justice gets served.
Chapter Two
T his poor dog was not going to be rejected and cast off the same way her father had turned his back on her older sister, Piper decided as the gambler walked off. Indeed, part of the objective of this trip was to see that her sister received rightful compensation. She was here to ensure that at least one of Roarke Sullivan’s loud decrees didn’t stick. If Roarke hadn’t realized it yet, he would soon discover that he had lost control over both his daughters.
Resolved of purpose, Piper made sure the mutt was well fed and bathed and approached the waiting coach. When she alighted inside the gambler squinted at her.
“About time. We’re ten minutes behind schedule.”
The crooked smile that came and went in the blink of an eye suggested that he was purposely taunting her. Piper rose to the occasion. “Can’t imagine that it would matter much to a man who has no particular place to go and has no pressing engagement when he gets there.” She shoved his long muscled legs sideways with her heel to grant her half the floor space.
She snapped her fingers at the mutt that stared hopefully up at her. “Well? Are you coming or not?” When she patted the space beside her on the seat the dog launched himself inside, his wet tail banging against the opened door.
“You are kidding,” the gambler said in astonishment as he watched the pup turn a tight circle, then plunk down next to her. “You both smell like wet dog.”
“I have heard that cleanliness is next to godliness,” she countered.
He smirked. “Didn’t know God categorized folks by how often they bathed.”
“Perhaps not but I didn’t want the mutt to offend you when he climbed aboard with me. I certainly wasn’t going to leave him behind to die.”
“You’re all heart, ma’am.”
“Likewise, I’m sure.”
Piper hated to admit it, but she actually enjoyed their banter. Thus far, the other male passengers had let her be after one or two of her pointed remarks. But this gambler gave as good as he got. Plus, he hadn’t tried to impress her with polished manners and premeditated charm. Not that he had any to spare, of course. The fact that she found this man intriguing and physically appealing astounded her.
“By the way, what is your name? I see no reason for me to keep referring to you as the no-account gambler,” she teased.
“Cal.”
“Cal what?”
“Just Cal. Short and sweet.”
“Short, yes,” she said, chuckling. “But I’m not so sure about sweet.”
When he leaned toward her the mutt jerked up his head. But Cal didn’t seem the least bit alarmed that the dog had become protective of her. She rather suspected that he was trying to get a better look at her through the dark veil.
He tossed her a mocking grin. “What should I call you besides the nagging old hag?”
“Agatha Stewart,” she said without missing a beat.
“Agatha,” he repeated, rolling the name off his tongue. “Somehow that fits you. So…are you going west to torment anyone in particular?”
She snickered in amusement. “Just my sister. Luckily we are a great deal alike,” she replied, wondering why she was daring to spend so much time conversing with Cal. She knew she would be better off if they traveled in silence. But she had to admit that she was curious about him and wanted to get to know him better. “Do you have family somewhere, Calvin?”
His dark brows flattened and he frowned at her. “The name is just plain Cal.”
“So you say,” she said with a dismissive flick of her gloved hand. “Where does your kin call home?”
Something flickered in his eyes that made Piper think she had accidentally hit an exposed nerve. When he settled himself deeper into the seat and folded his arms over his broad chest, as if closing himself off from her, she stared bemusedly at him.
“I don’t have kin, Agatha.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” she murmured sincerely.
He shrugged. “Forget it.” A moment later a lopsided smile crossed his sensuous lips—and confound it, she was annoyed with herself for noticing. “I’m sure you just couldn’t help yourself. Meddling probably comes naturally.”
Piper was enormously affected by his smile because it altered his entire appearance and changed her perception of him.