by Carol Finch
Nate shook his head in amazement as he strode toward the hotel. How in the world had Rachel convinced herself that the effect she had on him was the direct result of a love potion?
Apparently, that little hellion had no clue how addictive and potent she was to him. The only real question was whether she cared enough about him to share her life with him.
Nate decided he’d work up the nerve to ask her—tomorrow…
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning Nate tried to ease from bed without disturbing Rachel, but she popped awake the moment he set his bare feet on the floor.
“Where are you going?” She levered herself up on her elbow and her long raven hair spilled over her shoulder.
Nate couldn’t resist. He leaned over to curl the long tendrils of her hair around his fist like a rope, then drew her head to his so he could press his lips to hers. Addicted, he reminded himself. He wanted Rachel to be the last person he saw before he went to bed at night and the woman he kissed awake every morning. He just wasn’t sure how to convince her to agree to that arrangement.
Promising financial security and prestige didn’t seem to interest her. In fact, she was convinced most men couldn’t handle power and success. She was right, of course. He ought to know, because he’d hauled a helluva lot of money-hungry rapscallions to jail for corrupt dealings.
Losing her independence also worried her, he reminded himself. Funny, it had bothered him, too, until this beguiling, maddening, high-spirited female burst into his life, making him poignantly aware that he wanted things that had never interested him before.
Apparently, this was the dawn of a new day for him.
“Don’t try to distract me with kisses,” she murmured against his lips. “Where are you going?”
“To round up Turner’s henchmen,” he said—and realized too late that he was completely distracted by her sensuous response.
She pulled away and bounded to her feet in nothing flat. “I’m going with you.”
“No, you aren’t. I forbid it.”
He knew the instant the words were out of his mouth that he should have shut up one sentence sooner.
Hands fisted on her curvaceous hips, she glared at him. “Yes, I am and you can forbid it to your heart’s content, for all the good it’s going to do you.”
When she scooped up her boyish attire and shed her nightgown, the sight of her lush body hopelessly sidetracked him. “Okay, you can come.” Damn it, what was he saying! “On one condition,” he added hastily.
She fastened her shirt, leaving her shapely legs bare to his appreciative gaze. “Is this like the ‘one more thing’ you’re famous for?”
He bobbed his head, disappointed when she stepped into her breeches. “Yep. Same sort of thing, angel face.”
“What’s the condition?” she asked as she twisted her long hair into a bun, then pulled on her cap.
“That you agree to marry me and that I don’t have to chase you down to get you to say ‘I do.’” He snatched up his breeches and hurriedly put them on.
“That’s two conditions,” she grumbled.
“Take them or leave them,” he said as he donned his shirt.
“You’re impossible, Marshal Montgomery.” She flashed him an irritated glare as she sank into the chair to pull on her boots.
He grabbed his boots, winked and waggled his eyebrows. “Part of my irresistible charm.”
He almost provoked her to smile…but not quite.
“Say the word and you can ride along. Otherwise, I’m going alone,” he persisted.
She huffed out her breath, then surged to her feet. “Fine. The wedding is on. Hip, hip, hooray.”
He strode over to wag his forefinger in her bruised face. “I’m holding you to it, Rachel. Now, according to your dear friend Turner—”
“That bastard will never be a friend of mine,” she cut in bitterly.
“—the three goons were sent to check the area north of Dodge to locate you. They were supposed to report to him this afternoon. I’m thinking a welcoming party on the outskirts of town is an excellent idea. I talked to Ludy last night on my way back to the room. He’s agreed to assist.”
When Rachel wheeled toward the door, Nate followed closely behind her and breathed down her neck. “No heroics,” he lectured. “I’m still mad at you about last night.”
“No heroics for you, either,” she countered.
“Agreed.” He reached around her to open the door. “Let’s go arrest those thugs so they can have a well-deserved reunion with Turner…in the calaboose.”
Rachel snapped to attention when she saw the three ruffians walking their horses toward the wooded area where she, Nate and Ludy were waiting on horseback.
“I don’t have to shoot anybody, do I?” Ludy whispered anxiously. “I’ve been shot at a time or two, but I’ve never shot anyone before.”
Nate handed over the double-barreled shotgun. “Your job is to look threatening and authoritative.” He glanced wryly at Rachel. “And make sure she doesn’t blast anyone out of the saddle unless I give the word.”
When Ludy grinned, his dimples creased his cheeks. “Thanks for giving me an impossible task, marshal.”
When Nate glanced at her and smiled, her heart nearly melted down her ribs. She knew how her mother and grandmother had felt. Deeply, hopelessly, completely in love. She also knew how desolate they had become when they were forsaken.
“You’re drawing deputy wages,” Nate told Ludy. “You’ll collect on outstanding bounties for these outlaws. I’m willing to bet they are wanted—somewhere. For something.”
“Oh, good, that makes me feel better,” Ludy teased.
The lighthearted mood evaporated when the threesome drew near. Rachel went on high alert. She noticed all three men looked haggard. She suspected they had been drinking heavily and had yet to recover. Good. She prayed their capture would go without a hitch. Last night’s ordeal with Adolph hadn’t. It would be ever so nice if something went according to plan.
Following Nate’s lead, she and Ludy trotted from the grove of trees beside the road as the three ruffians rounded the bend. She kept both of her pistols trained on Warren Lamont while Ludy drew a bead with the shotgun on Bob Hanes. Nate bore down on Max Rother, the eldest and the self-appointed leader.
It took a moment for the men to recognize Nate without his beard and mustache. They also noticed the shiny new badge his brother had sent as a replacement. Max Rother was the first to go for his six-shooter, but he didn’t clear leather before Nate blasted his shooting hand. The pistol flipped over his wrist and tumbled into the grass.
“Anyone else want to challenge me to a shooting contest?” Nate asked as he walked his horse over to snap a handcuff on Rother’s wrists.
Lamont and Hanes didn’t say one word, just glared murderously at Nate.
“Rachel?”
“Yes, marshal?” She never took her eyes off Lamont.
“If either of the other two thugs moves so much as a muscle, you have my permission to blow them to kingdom come. Same for you, Ludy.”
Warren Lamont smirked. Clearly, he didn’t think Rachel, being a woman and all, could—or would—fire at him. She decided to let all three men know she meant business. She squeezed the trigger. Lamont’s Stetson flew off his head. She shot another hole in it before it hit the ground.
“The next shot will be right between your eyes, Lamont. Care to bet I can do it?” she challenged.
Lamont backed down immediately.
Nate arched a curious brow. “Dare I ask where you learned to do that?”
“My father didn’t stay around long enough to teach me much, but he did teach me that,” she replied.
Nate glanced at Bob Hanes. “What about you? Do you want to see how well you stand up against her pistol and Ludy’s shotgun?”
Hanes shook his head. “Not now. But I will later.” He glared daggers at Ludy. “All of you are fools if you think Turner is going to let you put us in jail
.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, boys,” Nate countered. “I jailed your boss last night. He’s already been charged with murder, two counts assault and embezzlement.”
Rother scoffed as he cradled his bloody hand against his belly. “You won’t make it stick, even if you’re a federal marshal. Turner runs this town.”
Nate shrugged lackadaisically. “If he did once, he doesn’t now. Every bully I’ve arrested, who thought he owned one town or another, is serving a prison sentence. Either that or he took the short route down the gallows. Furthermore, I’m best of friends with federal and district judges so I wouldn’t get my hopes up on leniency.”
Nate commandeered the reins to the horses, then handed them to Ludy. He handcuffed the ruffians to their horses, then retrieved several lengths of rope to tie their feet to the stirrups.
Rachel studied Nate, duly impressed with the practiced ease with which he captured his prisoners. He was cool under pressure. She admired that about him. That and dozens of other qualities too numerous to mention. She knew there and then that he was exceptionally good at his job and she could understand why he didn’t want to give it up. He derived a sense of satisfaction from ridding society of ruthless scoundrels like Turner and his thugs.
While they rode back to Dodge, Rachel made plans to flit away from town—and stay gone until Nate gave up and returned to his headquarters. Wherever that was. Only then would she circle back to resume her job at Grantham Boutique.
But damn, she was going to miss Nate like nobody’s business. Yet, it was better to make a clean break now. She couldn’t marry him. Wouldn’t marry him if all he felt was obligation.
Nate strode from the city marshal’s office, immensely pleased to have the four men—who had bullied Dodge City’s citizens into submission the past several years and had made Rachel’s life miserable—behind bars. Testifying against them at their upcoming trial would be tremendously gratifying, as well.
He made a mental note to request a warrant for Bowman, who ran the train depot. He had skipped town, headed for parts unknown, when he got wind that a federal marshal had arrived and that his cohort, Turner, had been arrested.
Nate veered into the infirmary to have a few words with Doc, then he returned to the street. Now for the most difficult task of his life, he mused as he strode toward the Four Queens Hotel. Convincing Rachel to stay with him wouldn’t be easy, he knew. He had the unshakeable feeling that she would bolt and run if he didn’t return to the room soon enough to stop her…
“Well, at least you’re still in one piece, no thanks to your dangerous job. I wasn’t sure how I’d find you when I got here.”
Nate nearly stumbled over his own feet when his father’s unexpected voice wafted toward him. He lurched around to see his father and brother—the snitch and turncoat—appear from the doorway of a nearby restaurant.
Hell and damnation, this was the last thing he needed right now!
Nate’s mutinous gaze zeroed in on his brother the traitor, then he focused on his father. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure the package Ethan sent to you arrived safely.” His father looked him up and down. “Apparently it did since you’re wearing some of the clothing you left behind when you scampered off to save the world.”
Nate rolled his eyes at his father’s melodramatics. “I’m saving my home state, not the world,” he clarified. His accusing gaze landed solidly on his older brother again. “I specifically asked you not to tell Father so that he wouldn’t worry.”
Ethan flung up his hands in supplication. “I tried to keep him from finding out,” he defended himself. “Father caught me carrying the package with your name on it.”
His father flapped his arms dismissively. “Don’t blame Ethan. He made an admirable attempt to stop me from discovering what was going on.”
Nate sent his brother another annoyed glance. “A halfhearted attempt at best, I’m sure.”
He glanced at the upstairs windows of the hotel and wondered if he was too late to overtake Rachel before she flitted off to who knew where. She was an escape artist of the highest caliber who could fend for herself, he knew. This delay could cost him valuable time in his womanhunt.
Nate called attention to himself and said, “As you can plainly see I’ve recovered from my minor injuries. Plus, I’ve locked the criminals responsible for the robbery and beating in jail. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very important task to attend.” He spun on his heels and strode quickly down the boardwalk.
His father chased him down and latched on to his arm. “You are coming home with us. There is no need whatsoever for you to endanger your life here on this outpost of society. You need a wife and children, like your brother. It will help you settle into a nonthreatening lifestyle.”
Brody hitched his thumb toward Ethan. “Look at your brother. He’s happy. Aren’t you, Ethan?”
On command, Ethan nodded his dark head and smiled dryly. “As a clam.” When Brody gouged him in the ribs, he added, “You should come home with us. We miss you. Dozens of eligible women have been asking after you since you left. You can have your pick of the crème de la crème, little brother.”
Nate gnashed his teeth while his patience grew thinner by the second. “Very well rehearsed, Ethan,” he said caustically. “But as it happens, I’ve found a suitable match.”
Brody’s gray brows shot up like exclamation marks. “Here? In this godforsaken hellhole of a town on the edge of nowhere? You must be joking.”
Nate glanced anxiously at the row of second-story windows again. He was running short of time—if he hadn’t run completely out of time already. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”
“Who is she?” his father quizzed him intently. “What connections does she have?”
Nate smiled wryly. “Her grandfather is a wealthy businessman in Kansas City. He moves in your elite social circle, in fact. Julian St. Raimes is Edgar Havern’s father-in-law and silent business partner.”
“And he allows his granddaughter to gallivant out here?” Brody hooted, then frowned suspiciously. “Is she the black sheep of her family?”
“Anything but.” Nate wheeled toward the hotel. Then, in afterthought, he veered around the corner to where the medicine-show wagon was parked.
“Oh, good God!” Brody crowed in disbelief as he gaped at the logo on the wagon. “She works for a quack doctor who peddles patented medicine?”
Nate reached into the back of the wagon to grab a bottle. “She did for a while, yes. She’s an exceptional sharpshooter and survivalist. Also, she is an incredible vocalist, in addition to her other amazing talents. She puts most of the members of Kansas City’s famed lyric theater to shame.”
“She’s a gunslinger, a singer and a small-time actress, too?” Brody teetered backward in shock. “Sweet mercy, the Montgomery name will be tarnished forever.”
Ethan, who was biting back a chuckle, grabbed Brody when he swayed on his feet.
“Tarnish the Montgomery name? On the contrary.” Nate smirked in contradiction. “She’ll give our family the pizzazz it’s missing. The Montgomerys have become too stuffy and full of themselves. She’ll shake them up.”
“Shake us up? Phhht! That settles it. We are taking you home on the first train out of here,” Brody decreed. “You must have suffered a blow to the head that has hampered your good judgment.”
Nate reversed direction and headed to the hotel. Ethan and Brody trailed a few steps behind him. Nate’s future was at stake and he had no more time for his father’s protests and time-consuming delays. He smiled faintly, wondering if he should turn his father loose on Rachel if she refused his request to stay with him.
Of course, Nate doubted that even the domineering, authoritative Brody P. Montgomery could convince Rachel to do something she didn’t want to do. The woman had a mind of her own and she knew how to use it. That was another of the many things that endeared her to him.
“Now
where are you off to in such a flaming rush?” Brody muttered as he tried to keep up with Nate’s swift strides.
“To see your future daughter-in-law, if she’ll have me as a husband,” he threw over his shoulder as he breezed through the hotel lobby.
“If?” Brody snorted sarcastically. “What woman wouldn’t want you? You’re wealthy and well-connected.”
“Those are not points in my favor,” Nate grumbled. “She claims men with money are self-absorbed and spoiled rotten.”
“Really? How intriguing. I cannot wait to meet this multitalented misfit,” Brody said, huffing and puffing his way up the staircase.
Nate took the steps two at a time in his haste to reach Rachel’s room—and prayed for all he was worth that he could stop her before she made her getaway.
While Nate had been filling out official forms in Marshal Peterson’s office, Rachel had stopped by her old room at the boardinghouse to pick up a few more garments and to pay her overdue rent from the previous month. Then she returned to the Four Queens Hotel to gather her belongings. Despite the ever-widening hole of emptiness that engulfed her chest, she grabbed her satchels and opened the door to make her escape from town.
She gasped in surprise when she found Nate blocking her path. “What are you doing back here so soon?” she chirped.
Nate gestured over his shoulder to call her attention to the two fashionably dressed men who bore a striking resemblance to Nate in height and hair color.
“This is my father, Brody Montgomery, and my brother, Ethan,” he introduced without taking his intense azure-eyed gaze off her. “And this is Rachel in disguise.”
Both men assessed her boyish attire, clearly unimpressed. Their eyes popped when Nate reached over to pull the cap from her head, allowing her raven hair to spill over her shoulders in thick shiny curls.
“Rachel is so stunningly attractive that she has to travel incognito. I, myself, have had to fight off a passel of bedeviled men with a stick to protect her.”
Brody’s and Ethan’s expressions became more complimentary and speculative as they gave her the once-over—a second and third time. Then Brody grinned broadly and inclined his head, as if giving his silent approval.
