Fury's Love. Tess MathewsЧитать онлайн книгу.
to help you."
"I told you I ain't no charity case."
"I was planning to leave you be," Travis said as he leaned in closer, "that is until I found out you are Belle."
The hair on the back of Fury's neck prickled as she felt the heat of anger rising on her face. "Shut the hell up; you are begging for a bullet. I told you I ain't this Belle, and I certainly ain't no girl!"
"Well, if I am wrong, you won't object to showing me your arm again." Travis grasped her arm.
Fury yanked it from his hold. "I'm warning you, mister; I have killed men for less."
"Look," Travis said, keeping his voice down, "I don't intend to bring you any harm, but I am sure you are Belle, and I'm not gonna leave you alone until you admit it. Let's go somewhere and talk."
"I ain't going anywhere with you." Fury stood, scraping the legs of her chair on the wooden floor. "Stay the hell away from me."
Fury reached in her pocket and removed some money. She slammed the money on the table and walked out, leaving Travis sitting with only the remainder of her stew to keep him company.
When she got to her room, Fury slammed the door and threw her saddle bag on the bed. "That insufferable clod of a man is going to get me killed. I need to get out of here and away from him as fast as I can."
She plopped down on the bed and rubbed her temples. Anger boiled inside her; she needed to breathe, to settle down. Fury never let anger or any other emotion take over. She needed to regain control. A small dust cloud came off her jacket as she removed it and draped it on a chair with her tattered hat. Fury began to unbutton her shirt but was stopped by an unwelcome pounding on her door.
"Great, what now?" She rebuttoned her shirt and put her jacket and hat back on. Keeping her hand on her gun, Fury approached the door.
"What you want?" she asked.
There was no response from the other side of the door. The pounding resumed.
"You can wear out your hand for all I care, I ain't answering that door until I know who it is."
"It's me, Travis."
Fury rolled her eyes. "Now I'm sure I ain't opening that door. Go away, Ranger." Her ears perked, listening for the sound of his footsteps leaving, but no sound came. "Suit yourself; you can sleep there if ya want, but I better not find you there in the morning."
Silence. Then the clanging sound of keys, and Fury's door swung open.
Fury drew her gun on Travis who stood in the doorway holding a bowl of stew.
"I suggest you put that gun away. You didn't finish your stew." He held the bowl out toward Fury.
"How in the hell did you get the keys to the room?"
"Oh, me and the desk clerk came to an understanding." Travis smiled. "Now, where do you want me to put your stew?"
"You know where you can put that stew; you can put it up your—"
"I wouldn't finish that statement if I were you; put your gun down and eat."
His brazen behavior stunned her.
"You gotta be some kind of peculiar crazy, mister."
"I told you to put your gun down." Travis took a few steps toward her.
Her mind contradicted itself. Part of her wanted to shoot him, but part held back. As a bounty hunter, she didn't allow indecision, but here she was wanting to shoot the man in front of her but unable to do so.
Travis reached out and grasped her gun from her hand as if the weapon were a toy in the hands of a naughty child. "I'm gonna hold on to this for a while." He placed the bowl on a small nightstand. "Eat, and we can talk in the morning."
Fury froze; she remained standing with her mouth hung open, trying to understand her inability to react.
Travis strode over to the door." I will see you in the morning." He began to turn the knob then stopped. "Oh, I suppose I should leave this with you." He held up her gun and then placed it on the floor next to the door. "Goodnight."
Fury picked up the bowl of stew and hurled it at the closing door.
The door crept back open, and Travis peered in. "Smashing a bowl against the door?" Travis smiled and shook his head. "That's what I would expect an angry woman to do, not a notorious gunman." Travis tipped his hat and closed the door.
Fury shook her head. What in the hell just happened? She ran over and picked up her gun then locked the door.
His key.
Fury spied a wooden chair sitting next to the door. She scooted the chair in front of the door and propped it under the doorknob. I gotta get out of here and away from him, quick. Damn it, Fury, why are you letting this man get to you? You should shoot him and be done with it.
Fury hurled her hat at the chair, flinging her coat after it. She walked over to the bed and flopped down. She struggled to get her boots off then threw them in a corner and lay back on the bed. The bed was every bit the soft luxury she wanted to give herself tonight, but the worrisome ranger occupied her awareness, stealing this bit of pampering from her. The moment Travis discovered her birthmark played in her mind.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Fury? Why didn't I remember to roll my sleeves back down when I got to town? Hank warned me; it's the little things that will get you. I really messed things up this time... Damn that eagle-eyed Travis. Those damn, mossy eyes, yes, they were green, and his hair, what I could see of it, was kinda wavy brown, and his smile, what a warm smile. And I think he has dimples—w-what in the hell is wrong with you? Fury slapped the palm of her hand over her face. Why in the hell are you mooning over a man who could get you killed? Her hand slid down to her chest." Where did all this come from? Holy smoke, it's like Belle mooning over a boy. Well, Belle, I corked you and your emotions up a long time ago. I must be tired for them to slip by so easily. Fury yawned, her body sinking into the plush comfort of the bed.
"Just put all those thoughts away," she mumbled. Gotta stay focused, gotta stay away from Travis, yes, stay away from Travis. Fury's eyes drifted closed. Stay away from that smile, away from those dimples. Gotta stay away.
In addition to the key to Fury's room, the desk clerk, with a bit of persuasion from Travis, arranged for him to stay in the room adjacent to Fury's.
Travis removed his boots and shirt. His years as a ranger made him prefer to keep his pants on and his gun lying next to his head, ready for any unwelcome visitor.
He stretched his long body across the soft bed. Usually, the luxury of a bed would cause sleep to come quickly, but not tonight. Tonight, his mind raced as fast as his heart pumped in his chest. He propped up on the pillow, cradling his head against his arm, and listened to his thoughts.
I found her. After all these years, I found Belle. It's hard to believe that dirty, ill-mannered and foul-mouthed bounty hunter is the sweet, angelic Belle. But wait, what if I'm wrong? What if I see what I want to see? Am I fooling myself?
Travis scratched his head. His smile drooped as he questioned himself.
Wait, wait a minute, the birthmark was definitely bell-shaped, but is that enough proof? I have good instincts about people, after all, I am a ranger, it's practically a requirement to be a good lawman, everything in me tells me Fury is Belle.
Travis lay quiet for a moment; then the smile returned to his face.
Travis, you idiot, you forgot those eyes. Yes, Fury's eyes are tired, but they are the same shade as Belle's eyes. They may not be as piercing as they once were, but it is the same blue-violet color. Two people cannot have that same color eyes along with a bell-shaped birthmark. Fury is Belle, and she is in the next room.
Travis