Texas Ranger, Runaway Heiress. Carol FinchЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.
Bri refused to speak for fear he would recognize her voice. She smiled to herself, thinking that he was nicer