The Ranger's Woman. Carol Finch
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Quinn knew he could disarm this feisty female in the time it took to blink. But damn if he knew why he allowed her to keep the upper hand. Maybe it was because she was so impossibly attractive that he liked looking at her. Maybe it was the prospect of sending her off alone to be hurt—or worse—that got to him.
If she did meet with disaster he would probably feel guilty as hell about it.
He didn’t have to be a fortune-teller to know that the kind of men who might cross her path would use and abuse her for their own lusty pleasure. And she was right. Trussing herself up in that padded black gown wouldn’t do her much good if she didn’t have the veiled hat to conceal her bewitching face.
“Well?” she demanded impatiently. “It’s your call.”
Piper was dismayed when he turned his back on her momentarily to retrieve his horse. He didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder. Obviously he didn’t believe she would gun him down. Which she wouldn’t have. That would have defeated her purpose of trying to hire a guide and protector.
Considering that she had never fired a weapon in her life, Piper didn’t like her chances of making the long ride to the next stage station if she might have to confront predators of the four-legged and two-legged varieties alone. She had no idea what awaited her and that made her apprehensive and twitchy.
The only logical solution was to stick with the irascible Quinn Callahan. And if he was a Ranger then she was better off with him than riding west alone, wasn’t she?
She watched Quinn fashion another strap to hold his saddlebags and bedroll in place before he hopped onto the horse. Then he leaned out to slap one of the spare horses on the rump, sending it galloping westward. The remaining horses followed suit and disappeared around the bend.
Piper extended the firearm to Quinn, butt first. “Here. I really hadn’t planned to shoot you,” she admitted.
“Nice to know,” he mumbled as he holstered his Colt.
He trotted the horse right past her without saying another word. She gaped at him, pretty certain this hard-hearted rascal was going to abandon her. She knew he didn’t like her. He didn’t trust her or believe her story, either. Damn him, he was going to leave her alone to face whatever calamity came her way.
Just when she had given up and decided that Quinn Callahan didn’t have one smidgen of conscience or humanity in him, he halted his horse before he veered around the outcropping of rock. He stared grimly at her.
“Looks like we’re stuck with each other,” he said sourly. “Are you coming or not?”
Relief washed over her like a tidal wave. When she smiled gratefully at him he scowled. Clearly, he was not pleased with his decision to allow her to tag along on his mission.
“What made you change your mind?” she asked as she trotted her horse up beside him, then called to the mutt to join them.
“Must have been what’s left of my conscience,” he grumbled resentfully. “But I’m telling you here and now that if I give you an order, then I expect you to obey without question. No exceptions.”
Piper bristled immediately. He sounded exactly like her domineering father who insisted that the world follow his master plan. No exceptions allowed.
He squinted at her and a ghost of a smile twitched his lips. “Figured you would have a problem with that.” He nudged his mount eastward. “Regardless, if I tell you to duck then I want you to flatten yourself over your horse. If I tell you to ride hell-for-leather then you do it.”
“For my own safety and protection,” she murmured, then flashed him a smile. “I can do that.”
Quinn scolded himself harshly when he felt himself melting beneath her radiant smile, which made her unique eyes sparkle like starlight. Damn it, he didn’t want to be distracted or affected by this female that he was obligated to drag along with him. He predicted she was going to wilt like a delicate rose after scrabbling over this rough terrain for hours on end. Then what was he going to do with her?
Face it, Callahan. You are responsible for her welfare whether you like it or not.
Which he definitely did not.
He would have liked to think that she might have made the long jaunt to the next stage station without mishap. That was wishful thinking and he wouldn’t want to bet her life on it, nuisance though she was to him.
Resigned to traveling at a slower pace to accommodate Piper, Quinn aimed his horse in the direction of the site where the robbery had occurred. He didn’t hear a peep out of Piper, thank goodness, when he picked up the pace to compensate for lost time.
Commander Scott Butler hunkered over his desk at Ranger headquarters in Austin and frowned pensively at the telegram Lieutenant Cooper had handed to him. “Kidnapped female,” he murmured. “Age twenty. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Likely traveling by train or stage.” He glanced up at the lieutenant. “That’s not much to go on.”
“No, sir,” Vance Cooper agreed. “All we know is that the girl’s father thinks her abductor might be headed to the Fort Davis area. But there is no explanation as to who might have absconded with her and why.”
“We have a battalion working out of Van Horn that might be able to begin a search,” Butler commented, then frowned when he recognized the name of the man whose daughter was reported missing. “Good God! Sullivan? No doubt, the girl is being held for ransom and Roarke will be expected to spend half his fortune, in hopes of getting his child back.”
“Sullivan, sir?” Vance Cooper repeated.
Butler nodded. “Extremely wealthy merchant from Galveston. Owns half the businesses in town and controls a freighting company that ships all over the world.” He frowned pensively. “We’ll start by requesting information at stage stations to find out if a woman was on board that matches this description.”
“We have Callahan in the field,” Cooper prompted. “He has been riding the stage back and forth between Fort Stockton and El Paso for two weeks, trying to locate the criminals that have been plaguing the area. Too bad we can’t get word to him. He’s the best tracker we’ve got.”
Commander Butler readily agreed with that. He had worked with his share of frontier fighters during his thirty-four years of service with the Rangers. There were several standouts in the rare breed of men who policed this wild country. Quinn Callahan headed up that list. He was tough, resilient, intelligent—and about as affable as a grizzly.
Butler smiled wryly. Cal was a lone wolf who wasn’t much for small talk and lacked polished social graces, but he was hell on outlaws. Cal had kept to himself until Taylor Briggs had befriended him and refused to be held at arm’s length.
Honest to God, Butler never had figured out why two men who hailed from completely different walks of life had become as close as brothers. Taylor could have talked your leg off if you let him and Cal barely gave you the time of day unless it was important that you knew it.
Damn shame about Taylor Briggs, he mused. The man had been a credit to his battalion—until he had tried to follow Cal’s practice of venturing off on his own to scout and track the desperadoes that had been robbing stages, banks and plundering ranches in southwest Texas.
“Have you received more information about the outlaws who decided to call themselves the Knights of the Golden Circle?” Butler questioned.
Cooper nodded his auburn head, his countenance grim. “The news isn’t good, sir. One of our men has been interrogating a suspected member who has been jailed in San Antone. According to the report, the Knights aren’t simply looting and plundering for personal gain. This outbreak of thievery is bait for a trap.”
Butler’s thick brows flattened. “What kind of trap?”
“Word is that a band of Mexicans have recently joined up with the Knights to sell stolen livestock over the border. The outlaws even disguise themselves