The Ranger's Woman. Carol Finch
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going to die!” Agatha squawked as the swaying coach sent her lurching headfirst into his lap.
Quinn let go with one hand to grab hold of the nape of her gown, then jerked her up beside him. He felt the horses’ momentum swinging the wrecked coach into a hapless skid. It rocked sideways, teetered off balance for a few unnerving seconds…and then wham!
The coach crashed onto its side, hurling the occupants against the opposite wall. Quinn made a wild grab for Agatha when she toppled over him toward the broken door. There was nothing beneath the opening except a wide expanse of nothingness, a craggy tumble of rocks on the mountainside and a swift-moving stream riddled with white-capped rapids.
Agatha screamed bloody murder as she dropped through the opening, held aloft only by Quinn’s death grip on the neck of her gown.
Dust rolled around the confines of the coach, filling his eyes. Agatha’s terrified screams blasted his ears and his pulse hammered so hard in his chest that he could barely draw breath.
One false move, one careless shift of weight and the coach would be taking the short way down the mountain.
Quinn kept a stranglehold on Agatha while her legs churned to find solid footing. He could have told her she was wasting energy because there was nothing but air beneath her.
Carefully, he inched his legs farther apart without shifting to a position that would alter the perilous balance of the coach. Quinn hauled in a steadying breath. He had been in dozens of hair-raising scrapes through the years. But this one tested his mettle to the limits.
If he tried to save himself it meant that he had to release his hold on Agatha. Pain in the patoot that she could be at times, he didn’t relish the idea of watching her body bounce from one outcropping of stone to another until she hit rock bottom.
He really wished he could see her face, wondered if she had made peace with the world…just in case. But there was that damn veil standing between him and this cantankerous old crone that he found himself liking for reasons he was at a loss to figure out.
Quinn kept remembering the sound of her grating voice hurling curses at Silver Spurs, vowing to come back and haunt him in the afterlife. He figured if his tenuous grasp on Agatha slipped, she would be cursing him all the way down the mountain. That was one ghost he wouldn’t want breathing down his neck till the end of his days.
He swore colorfully when he heard the shoulder seam of her gown rip loose and saw her drop a quick six inches. She was staring death in the face. Knowing her, she would have something mean and nasty to say about that, too.
Gritting his teeth, Quinn tried to figure out how in the hell he and Agatha were going to get out of this mess alive.
Chapter Four
“S top thrashing about and grab hold of my arm!”
Piper stared up at the rock-solid man who stood between her and certain death. She was terrified and was having difficulty drawing breath, but Cal was his usual calm and collected self. It amazed her that nothing seemed to faze him.
But of course, he wasn’t the one hanging on by the thread of his torn shoulder seam. And honestly, considering how she had needled him the past two days she was surprised he didn’t just let her go with a feigned smile of apology.
“Hurry up, Agatha,” he demanded. “The horses are going to start shifting any second and this coach might topple off the edge and shatter to pieces. There won’t be a damn thing for us to hold on to if that happens.”
Piper eased the strap of her reticule up her arm, then clamped her free hand on his forearm and tried to heave herself up as if he were a human rope.
“Stop!” Cal growled when her mad scramble altered the precarious balance of the overturned coach. “No sudden moves. Understand? Just hang there and let me haul you up an inch at a time.”
The mutt that was somewhere behind Cal suddenly appeared by his right shoulder. He whined and wagged his tail when he spotted her.
“Stay there, dog,” she commanded as Cal lifted her another inch away from imminent death.
She heard the mutt’s tail bang harder against the wall and realized his intentions after she made the crucial mistake of speaking directly to him. “No! Don’t move!”
To her terror and dismay the dog bounded playfully around Cal to lick her veiled face and paw at her hat.
“Damn it, get back, mutt,” Cal muttered as the coach rocked unsteadily.
Another stab of horror knifed through Piper when the dog’s oversize paw connected with the side of her head, causing her plumed hat to shift sideways. When the mutt grabbed the feathers on her hat, as if they belonged to a bird that he was instinctively trying to shake the life out of, Piper shrieked.
Cal let go with his left hand that was braced against the window frame and pushed the dog out of the way. Piper’s veiled hat was still clamped in the mutt’s jaws as he tumbled helter-skelter inside the coach.
Sickening dread pooled in the pit of Piper’s stomach when she found herself staring directly into Cal’s shocked expression. She watched him appraise her without her protective disguise. She could see disbelief, condemnation and suspicion gathering in those golden eyes as he registered the fact that she wasn’t who she pretended to be.
She decided, right there and then, that it was not a good idea to shock the person who held your life in the balance. Cal was so stunned that she felt his hand loosen on her arm momentarily, causing her to drop a quick two inches before he regathered his composure and clamped a fierce hold on her.
“I thought there was something peculiar about you that didn’t add up,” he said, then scowled down at her.
“I can explain,” she squeaked, then glanced down at the empty space beneath her. “Oh, God!” She thrashed in attempt to find footing.
“Hold still!” Cal barked at her. The expression on his face was thunderous.
Piper froze in midair. Her heart pounded inside her chest and she reminded herself to breathe.
“I know this looks bad,” she chirped. “But please don’t let me go. And if I die, promise me that you will take my money and jewels to my sister at Fort Davis.”
“I already have one last request to fulfill,” he muttered. “I don’t need another one.”
“Then at least tell Penelope what happened.”
“Fine. I’ll do that. But in the meantime here’s what we’re going to do. On the count of three I’m going to throw myself backward and you’re going to lurch forward and grab hold of me. And get hold of that mutt with your free hand if you can. Ready?”
Piper wasn’t sure she would ever be ready because if this plan didn’t work she was a goner. He might be, too.
“One, two, three—”
Quinn threw himself backward with enough force to drag Agatha—who had turned out to be an exceedingly attractive young con artist—through the opening. The team of horses shifted uneasily, dragging the coach a little farther off the edge of the cliff. Quinn shoved the woman sideways to counterbalance the teetering coach. Then he vaulted to his feet.
“Get up and make it quick!” he told the imposter when she didn’t react swiftly enough to suit him.
Using the heel of his hand he popped open the door that was above him. He heaved himself up to sit atop the overturned stage, then thrust his hand back inside to grab Agatha—and he was dying to find out who she really was. Well, not dying to find out, he amended. That was a bad choice of words, considering they had come within a hairbreadth of catapulting into the hereafter.
To Quinn’s surprise and exasperation, she tossed the squirming dog to him. Frankly, it astounded him that she placed the mutt’s safety above her own. Then he reminded himself that she had saved the mutt from extermination and had