The Ranger's Woman. Carol Finch
figure out what he was thinking…or planning to do to her.
“I hope you’re packing hardware, Piper,” he said before he strode past her to retrieve a horse. “You won’t last a half a day in this wilderness, especially dressed in that garb. That getup advertises every feminine asset you have. If you come across any other men of less moral fiber than I have then whatever righteous virtues you might have left will be gone by nightfall. Guaranteed.”
“Which is why I relied on a disguise for my protection,” she pointed out. “I am not a complete fool, you know. I am fully aware that men are not to be trusted. They always want something from a woman.”
Quinn chastised himself for glancing over his shoulder to admire the appealing sight of this shapely female. She was right, he admitted to himself. He would like something from her, too, although he wouldn’t allow himself to yield to the temptation.
He made it a policy to avoid devious women whenever possible.
But the damnable truth was that Piper was the most strikingly attractive woman he had ever laid eyes on. Plus, every time he stared too long at her he lost his train of thought. That was not good.
Everything male inside him had responded fiercely the instant he rounded the bend of the road—and saw her standing where Agatha Stewart should have been. Agatha he could have handled. This woman he wasn’t so sure about. She was a distraction of the worst sort at the worst time.
“You don’t look like a Ranger,” she said doubtfully. “I want to see proof.”
It wasn’t the first time he had heard that demand. Quinn retrieved his sidearm from his left holster, then dug out the tarnished star that he only flashed about while making arrests. “This good enough for you? Or this…” He waved the small, leather-bound book in her face. “It’s a fugitive list that gives the names and descriptions of wanted criminals. All Rangers carry them.” He stared suspiciously at her. “I bet if I looked closely I could probably find you in it.”
“I am not on anyone’s wanted list. Well, except for perhaps—” She jerked up her head and glared at him. “Don’t try to sidetrack me, Cal. The point is that you could have stolen that badge and that little black book.”
“Right, just like you probably stole the money you’re carrying. My guess is that you trussed yourself up like an overweight old widow to conceal your identity and throw lawmen off track. Then you hopped a stage for parts unknown,” he countered. “Admit it, I’m right about you, aren’t I?”
She stamped her foot in frustration again. “No, you couldn’t be more wrong! I did not steal anything! And if you really are a Ranger then you should be more concerned about my welfare instead of threatening to abandon me!”
He tucked the silver star in his holster. “If you want sympathy and concern you’re barking up the wrong tree, lady. I already have an important assignment, and you aren’t it.”
Quinn released one of the horses hooked to the team, then grabbed his knife to cut off a section of the reins to fashion a harness. He had brought along his own bridle, anticipating that he would have to confiscate a horse. But Piper needed a means to control her mount when she rode off—in the opposite direction that he was headed.
He flicked her a quick glance, noting that watching him create a makeshift harness had distracted her. He rather thought she looked impressed by his adaptability. Not that he cared what she thought of him, of course. The sooner he ditched her the happier he would be.
“Here.” He thrust the reins at her. “This makeshift tack will get you to the next stage stop. You can catch the next westbound coach that comes through, if that’s what you want to do. It makes no difference to me.”
Leaving her holding the reins to the horse, Quinn fished into his saddlebags to grab his bridle and bit. Then he strode over to pick out a horse for himself.
“I will pay you to escort me to the next station,” she negotiated.
“With what? Stolen money?” He eased the bit into the horse’s mouth and placed the bridle in proper position. “No thanks. I have more pressing things to do besides play nursemaid to an imposter and thief.”
“I am not a thief!”
He derived tremendous pleasure in throwing her own words back in her face. “Fine, then prove it.”
She stalked over to station herself in front of him, determined to gain his undivided attention. His betraying gaze dropped to her heaving bosom and he cursed himself soundly for being the least bit attracted to a woman who was far more trouble and frustration than she was worth.
“I didn’t lie to you when I said I was bound for Fort Davis. I’m on my way to join my sister, Penelope. She is married to Captain Matthew Duncan. Part of the money and jewels I’m carrying are compensation for my sister.”
Okay, so maybe he could believe that part since her last wish—while she was dangling off the cliff—was to contact her sister. But Quinn had been fed so many concocted and convoluted lies in his day that he had learned never to take anyone at his word until checking the story thoroughly. He had no way of knowing how or where she had acquired the money and valuables.
“My charade as an elderly crone was for my own protection,” she repeated slowly and distinctly. “I am traveling without a chaperone and I was taking precautions so I wouldn’t invite trouble from untrustworthy men. Surely you can understand that my disguise was a necessary deception.”
She stared at him. “Especially since you were charading as a shiftless gambler.” She arched a challenging brow. “Double standards, Calvin? Hmm?”
Well, she had him there. But that didn’t change the fact that he had been traveling undercover on official business and now he had a ring of ruthless desperadoes to track down. He didn’t have the time or inclination to deliver Piper Whoever-She-Was to her sister. He knew she wasn’t being completely honest with him and he didn’t trust her, so he wasn’t going to bother with her.
Quinn figured Piper would be reasonably safe on the next leg of her westward journey. He couldn’t give her a guarantee, of course, because this isolated area of rugged mountains was home and hideout to all sorts of predators.
The bandits that had held up the stage had headed north, but that didn’t mean there weren’t smaller groups of desperadoes prowling the area. If she was lucky she might reach the next relay station without encountering difficulty.
He frowned thoughtfully. He would give her a fifty-fifty chance. He glanced at her appealing physique. On second thought, that was probably too optimistic.
Cutting away another section of the long reins, Quinn secured the leather strap around her horse’s girth, then tied her bulging satchel in place.
“I’ll give you a step up,” he offered, linking his fingers together to form an improvised stirrup.
She stared at him with those fascinating silver-blue eyes. “Perhaps we could compromise,” she suggested, flashing him a charming smile.
It was difficult not to respond to her smile, but he managed. “I never compromise. You start making exceptions then that’s all you get done. I was sent here to locate the outlaws’ hideout in this wild tumble of mountains so a Ranger battalion can attack. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Then I’m going with you. Once you have pinpointed the hideout, you can escort me to Fort Davis.”
He stared incredulously at her. The woman had gumption, he’d give her that. “Lady, I will be traveling across rugged terrain. I’m used to it. You aren’t. By dark you will be whining and complaining and I have heard enough of that while you posed as Agatha Stewart. The answer is no.”
When she refused to accept the step up that he offered, he hooked his arm around her waist and swung her onto the horse. “You can’t miss the relay station at Perdition Pass. It sits at the base of the canyon, directly beside the road. You can probably make it