Texas Ranger, Runaway Heiress. Carol FinchЧитать онлайн книгу.
singing ditties and sporting costumes and props to entice attendance. The actors drew considerable attention, Eaton’s included. He came to point like a hunting dog when he spotted four young women flitting around in tight-fitting costumes.
Womanizer, she mused as she watched Eaton’s hawkish gaze rove over each woman’s physique.
Here was yet another reason Bri refused to spend her life shackled to this blowhard politician whose sexual appetite was whispered about in drawing rooms. Bri knew loyalty and fidelity weren’t among Eaton’s virtues—if in fact, he had any at all. She couldn’t think of one off the top of her head. But then he’d been getting on her nerves all day so it was hard to think past his annoying faults to find his redeeming qualities.
As the stagecoach halted beside the clapboard depot, Bri caught a whiff of a foul odor. She glanced sideways to see the oversized piles of buffalo skins and the unkempt men who wandered around the hide yard that sat on the edge of town.
“Ah, here we are,” Eaton said unnecessarily. He leaned close to add, “Honestly, Gabrielle, why must you wear these plain traveling clothes? You look like a sodbuster’s wife, not a future senator’s fiancée. You can afford to dress like a princess and you should.”
“I have no intention of soiling my best clothes in dusty stagecoaches. I don’t believe in flaunting family money,” she declared.
His gaze narrowed reproachfully. “I must remind you that your unfashionable appearance reflects badly on me. We are in the public eye because I’m running for office. You need to dress the part and keep up appearances for my sake.”
She cocked her head at him then stared pointedly at the three shabbily dressed men who climbed down from the coach. “I thought you wanted to represent the common man.”
“Represent them, yes. Become one of them? Hardly, my dear.” He flicked his wrist, urging her to step out of the coach by herself so he could make his grand entrance into the street. “Please find something flashy to complement my wardrobe before you venture out this evening.”
Grateful to escape the narrow confines of the coach—and Eaton—Bri practically launched herself through the door.
Glancing this way and that, Bri sought out a hotel that offered adequate accommodations. She noticed an establishment above a run-down saloon, but it didn’t appeal to her. Neither did the foul-smelling stack of hides close by. She intended to stay upwind of hide hunters and their pungent bounty.
The moment the driver handed down her two satchels, she hiked toward Brazos Hotel, which sat at the opposite end of town. The sound of tinkling piano music and boisterous laughter that wafted from the string of saloons was a welcome change from the tiresome sound of Eaton’s voice and his haughty criticism. Bri couldn’t wait to ensconce herself in a private room and relax.
“Slow down, my dear!” Eaton called out as he snatched up his four suitcases and clatted after her.
Bri glanced over her shoulder in time to see Eaton nod a flirtatious greeting to one of the thespians who all but floated across the street to greet him. It was lust at first sight for Eaton and the red-haired actress, she decided. She shook her head at the ridiculousness of the public flirtation playing out on the boardwalk. The voluptuous actress, with pouty lips and luminous green eyes, was welcome to Eaton. And vice versa. Bri didn’t want him. Never had.
One of the main objectives of her journey was to disengage herself from Eaton. Another was to enjoy the freedom and independence her mother constantly tried to stifle. Despite her mother’s browbeating efforts, Bri refused to be no more than a social hostess and devoted politician’s wife.
When the redhead twirled gracefully in front of Eaton, who had halted to watch her leap through the air like a ballerina, Bri smiled in amusement. Eaton’s arrogance was astonishing. He seemed to have no idea that she could see right through him and tell what he was thinking while he visually undressed the actress. She would be outraged if she had the slightest interest in the boorish dandy.
Her stomach growled as she hiked past one of the cafés. There would time for food later, she promised herself. First, she wanted to wash away the trail dust and relax in the privacy of her room.
Leaving Eaton to ogle the actress—and her friends, who gathered around to promote their farewell performance—Bri scurried into Brazos Hotel to request a room. She dug in to her purse to pay for her accommodations then trudged up the steps.
She expelled a gigantic sigh when she closed the door behind her and appraised her modestly furnished room. She was never so glad to be anywhere in her life! She could tend to the business of hiring a guide to accompany her to the Ranger camp, where her father was inspecting troops. Even better if her father had received her message in time to send someone to fetch her.
Mercy, it had been too long since she had seen her father. Almost six months, in fact, she mused as she shed her dusty calico gown and changed into a drab gray dress, floppy-brimmed bonnet and shawl that downplayed her feminine physique. She was counting on her father to become her champion against her mother’s unreasonable demands and expectations. He understood her restless spirit, her need for adventure and excitement. She was her father’s daughter, not her mother’s senseless puppet.
A fond smile pursed Bri’s lips as she pulled her bonnet low on her forehead to conceal her facial features. She loved her father dearly and respected him greatly. He didn’t lounge in an office at the state capitol. He personally inspected the troops and assessed the situation in the wilderness to ensure the Ranger battalions had enough manpower and supplies to keep the frontier safe. Winston Price was also feeding his adventurous soul. If he didn’t remember that Bri was the proverbial chip off the block, she vowed to remind him.
It was dark when Hud arrived in The Flat. His first order of business was to lead Rambler to the livery stable and brush him down thoroughly. In his line of work, a man was only as good as his horse. Hud made certain Rambler received full rations and the best of care.
He glanced down the street and told himself he should be enthusiastic about being back in society—if you could call this collection of misfits in The Flat society. He stared down the dimly lit street, noting the gathering crowds and hearing boisterous laughter wafting from a nearby gaming hall. There were all sorts of entertainment to be had. Ironically, all Hud wanted was a bath and a few minutes to stretch out on a real bed for the first time in months.
Assured that his horse was in capable hands, Hud strode off to find comfortable accommodations for himself. He pulled up short when a woman in a frilly costume pirouetted in front of him then leaped through the air.
“We’ll be giving our last performance tonight before continuing our tour to Fort Elliot, Tascosa and Mobeetie,” she announced as she circled around him and waved a perfume-scented scarf under his nose. “Come join us, handsome.”
Handsome? Hud inwardly scoffed as the woman flitted off to entice another passerby on the boardwalk. He didn’t consider himself anywhere near handsome. Whiskers lined his jaw. The bags under his eyes testified to his lack of sleep and too damn much time in the saddle.
Thanks to Commander Price, Hud had set a swift pace to reach Fort Griffin to look up Gabrielle and play nursemaid and tour guide.
Scowling, Hud veered into Brazos Hotel to rent a room. After requesting heated water for a bath, he slung his saddlebags over his shoulder then scaled the steps. He smiled appreciatively when he entered his room to see the feather bed and the brass tub in the corner.
Tossing aside his saddlebags, he ambled over to the window to look down on the bustling streets filled with hide hunters, gamblers, cowboys and desperadoes. Turning away to heel-and-toe out of his boots, Hud un-fastened his holsters and set aside his weapons. His gaze skittered around the room again.
“Hell of a life you lead,” he mumbled to himself. “The highlight of your month is bathing in a tub and sleeping on a real bed.”
Chapter Two
After a surprisingly appetizing meal at Garland