Carol Finch

by The Ranger's Woman

  “If that is supposed to make me feel better it doesn’t,” she mumbled.

  “I should have taken that into account instead of assuming you were attuned to our surroundings.” He gestured toward the meat sizzling in the fire. “Take the snake for example. No one taught you that cold-blooded vipers seek out warmth when the temperatures drop at night. It’s a lesson you have to learn the hard way unless someone takes you under wing to teach you. I didn’t prepare you.”

  Piper stared at the coiled whip that lay beside his moccasined feet. “Who taught you to be so effective with the whip?”

  All expression vanished from his face, except for the flare of gold in his eyes. “I learned from the man who used it on me. To him, I was a half-breed, a savage.”

  Piper grimaced at the awful thought. Before she realized it she had moved toward Quinn. Her hand folded consolingly over the banded muscles of his forearm. “If I had been there I would have wanted to shoot him for what he did to you.”

  He was on his feet in a single bound, moving away from her as quickly as he had during the dagger-hurling lesson. Clearly he had an aversion to her touch and her offer of sympathy. Did he hate her that much? she wondered dejectedly. Did he resent her presence because she was a burden, a disruption in his mission?

  Piper knew the answers to those questions. He didn’t want her around for any reason, even for the reason most men wanted contact with women. He certainly didn’t need her, for he was a man who didn’t seem to need anyone or anything. To Quinn Callahan—survivor extraordinaire, seasoned fighter, dark angel of vengeance and long arm of justice—she was a bothersome nuisance who slowed him down.

  She should have ridden west and taken her chances, she realized in retrospect. If she hadn’t been an emotional wreck after her near-death experience on the cliff perhaps she wouldn’t have become so dependent on him. But the truth was that she had been too much a coward to brave the wilds alone and face the unknown after having the wits scared clean out of her.

  Now, Quinn was paying for the inconvenience of having a greenhorn female underfoot.

  “I plan to pay you for every delay I’ve caused,” she insisted determinedly. “Furthermore, you should track those desperadoes and leave me here. I’ll make my way back to the stage route. My problems aren’t yours and I’m sorry that I nagged you into bringing me with you when it is clear that I am completely out of my element and I am shamelessly unprepared to handle the difficulties of the wilderness.”

  He cocked his head and surveyed her for a pensive moment. “We are about as far out into the middle of nowhere as we can get and now you are ready to strike off on your own? What changed your mind?”

  She dodged that probing stare that seemed to look straight into her, searching out her deepest secrets and hidden weaknesses. “For starters, you don’t want me underfoot. I’m a burden to you. Because of me you had to backtrack instead of dogging the bandits’ trail to their hideout. I’m costing you precious time. Plus, you don’t trust me and you dislike me so much that when I touch you, for whatever reason, you can’t get away from me fast enough to suit yourself.”

  “You’ve got that right,” he mumbled sourly.

  Fortunately, she had misinterpreted his reasons for not wanting her close, Quinn thought. Her touch, the feel of her lush body gliding erotically against his made his sap rise—to the extreme. Plus, she was intelligent, well educated, and she unwillingly intrigued him. However, they were about as far apart on the social pendulum as two people could get, which made him leery of getting emotionally attached to her.

  In fact, he wasn’t going to get emotionally attached to anyone ever again. He had allowed Taylor Briggs inside his protective barrier and losing his friend had become an unwanted reminder of the turmoil of his childhood.

  Not feeling anything for anyone was easier.

  Quinn had learned that the hard way.

  Scowling at the impossible temptation this woman represented when he stared at her for more than five seconds, he snatched up his bedroll. He shook it out then placed it a safe distance from the pool that was a favorite watering hole for predators. The realization that there was only one pallet between them and they would have to share it had him grumbling all over again.

  Hell, you’d think that fate had purposely tossed this stumbling block of a female at you, if only to test your resistance and restraint. Just what he needed, another difficult challenge. Personally, Quinn thought he had been tested quite enough in life. He wasn’t an optimist who expected happiness, but extended periods without torment would be nice.

  “Come sit over here and I’ll bring supper when it’s cooked,” he said, gesturing toward the pallet.

  While Piper sank down, he peeled off his shirt, then balanced on the rocks beside the pool to partially bathe himself. He cursed soundly when he heard her gasp and realized that he had unintentionally exposed the scars on his back to her. No doubt, the sight of his marred flesh repulsed her.

  “I definitely want to shoot whoever did that to you,” she muttered, surprising him. “Give me his name…and a gun.”

  That was not the reaction he had expected.

  Quinn glanced over his shoulder and got lost in those silver-blue eyes that roamed unhindered over him. “Why do you care who did this?” he asked, bewildered.

  “Because it’s inhumane, for one thing! And regardless of the fact that you despise me and resent me for intruding into your life, I admire you. I am also impressed by your skills and abilities and I’m—” Her voice crackled and she jerked her blond head around to stare at the cliff overhead. “I’m dreadfully sorry you’re stuck with me, Callahan. I really am.”

  Didn’t like her? Hell, she was about as wrong as she could get on that count. He liked her too much, that was the problem. He liked the looks of her. Liked the sound of her voice. Liked her fiery spirit. He would never trust her, of course. But that didn’t mean he was immune to her sweet scent, aroused by her shapely body and hypnotized by those unique eyes and her bewitching face.

  When he heard her choked sob, he steeled himself against the instinctive need to gather her in his arms and comfort her. First off, he wasn’t the comforting type. Didn’t know beans about relating to people in general and women in particular. Secondly, he couldn’t trust himself to stop after giving her a consoling pat on the shoulder.

  Didn’t trust her. Didn’t trust himself with her. Hell of a dilemma, he mused in frustration.

  “You about done blubbering?” he asked as he splashed water on his chest and then let it trickle over his shoulders and down his back. “I’ve never yet encountered a situation where crying solved a damn thing. A complete waste of emotion if you ask me.”

  “Well, no one asked you, you hard-hearted, rough-edged—oh!” she spouted from behind him. “Never in my life have I met anyone as difficult to deal with as you!”

  He smiled wryly, knowing he had accomplished his purpose by goading her to anger. She’d gotten mad enough to cease crying. Good. He didn’t want her to know how much her tears got to him.

  Never let a man or woman expose your weaknesses, for they will prey on them. Quinn had learned that lesson from the shaman who had furthered his training in the ways of a warrior and also taught him to concoct the healing medicine potions used by the Comanche.

  Quinn had just come to realize that Piper’s tears crept beneath his defenses and made him feel vulnerable.

  He made a mental note not to let it happen again.

  He pivoted slightly to stare over his shoulder. He noticed Piper was glaring poison darts at him. “Feeling better now that you’ve turned your wrath on me?” he asked.

  “No,” she snapped. “I don’t know which headache is worse. The one caused by the bump on my skull or the one I’ve got from dealing with you.”

  He shrugged into his shirt. “You insisted on coming along,” he didn’t fail to remind her. “I told you, no whining. The wilderness is unforgiving and you have to deal with that, like it or not.”


  “Unforgiving like you?” she hurled at him. “I swear to goodness, Callahan, if opportunity presents itself and you bawl your head off in front of me, I will never let you hear the end of it!”

  Quinn threw back his head and laughed at the absurd idea that he would reduce himself to tears. He had done that after he lost his father, after the Kiowa captured him. Then he had braced up and forced himself to forget about his white heritage because he had become an Indian for all intents and purposes in order to survive.

  He hadn’t cried in twenty-one years.

  And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed.

  It amazed him that this fiery female had evoked so many emotions from him during their short acquaintance. Which was reason enough to find the isolated hideout. Pronto. He couldn’t afford to get attached to her because he intended to deliver her to Fort Davis so he could contact Commander Butler. He planned to lead the strike force to remove the criminal threat in the area.

  That was his mission and this exasperating female was not going to get in his way.

  Turning away from the spring, Quinn broke off two limbs from a scraggly juniper tree to serve as skewers for the meat. He gathered several chunks of rattlesnake steak then offered them to Piper who was still pouting resentfully because he had goaded her for bleeding useless tears.

  “Thank you,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound the least bit grateful.

  “You are welcome,” he said just as insincerely.

  He sank down on the far side of the pool to take his own meal. Unfortunately, his betraying gaze kept darting to Piper. She had pulled the pins from her hair and the frothy mass of moonbeam-colored tendrils cascaded over her shoulders to curl enticingly against the full swells of her breasts.

  The impulsive urge to run his fingers through those silky strands stunned him. Was he insane? Not touching her and not staring overly long at her were his objectives. And damnation, why did he have to be so aware of how alluringly attractive she was?

  Ah, how he wished she were still charading as Witch Agatha. He could deal with that snippy crone more effectively than he could deal with Piper, golden-haired goddess of masculine fantasies.

  He watched a smile light up her face when the mutt returned from wherever he had been for the past hour. She fed him some meat and he plopped down devotedly beside her. The pup was in dog heaven, savoring all the food and attention he could get.

  “You gonna give that hound a name?” he questioned between bites.

  She frowned thoughtfully as she stroked the mutt. “Nothing comes to mind.”

  “Why not call him Dog? That’s what he is,” Quinn suggested.

  She shook her head. “He deserves better than that.”

  “Then come up with something better so he’ll learn to come to heel when you call him. Nothing worse than an untrained dog or horse or—”

  “Or woman?” she supplied. “I suspect that’s how you like your women. They sit when they are told to sit. They come to heel when ordered. No trouble. No nonsense. No fuss.”

  “It’s easier than dealing with the likes of you.” He smiled wryly. “If I asked you to come to heel you’d probably bite a chunk out of my ankle.”

  She paused from eating and stared consideringly at him. “This is how it’s going to be between us for the duration, isn’t it? Tormenting each other for spite?”

  He bobbed his head. “Yep. Until I know exactly who you are and precisely what motivates you then we’re destined to remain at odds. That’s how I deal with suspicious characters.”

  “And just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers, “if I divulge who I am, you will trust me immediately? You’ll stop staring at me as if you expect me to bury a dagger in your back when you’re not looking?” She scoffed at him. “Cynical as you are, I seriously doubt that, Callahan. I’m not sure you could bring yourself to like me, even if I paid you handsomely for it.”

  “Try me, Agatha or Piper or whoever you really are. What is your agenda?” He stared intently at her. “And try telling me the truth for once. The whole truth and nothing but.”

  “You want my life story? Fine.” She propped herself against the stone wall and stretched her legs on the pallet. “I have one question though. When I tell you who I am and confide how much reward you might rake in if you return me to my home, will you be tempted to take it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then I can’t trust you, either.” She fed the pup another bite of meat, then said, “Lucky.”

  He stared at her, befuddled. “What?”

  “I’ll name the mutt Lucky because he’s lucky to be alive. Does that meet with your approval?”

  His shoulders lifted and dropped nonchalantly. “Doesn’t matter to me. He’s not my dog. He’s devoted to you. Can’t imagine why though.”

  “I’m trying to get along with you and you are impossible,” she erupted suddenly. “Stop badgering me!”

  He watched her vault to her feet and storm toward him. He allowed her to loom over him, all fired up and huffy, because he liked knowing that he had the ability to ruffle her feathers. He also liked seeing the challenging glitter in her silver-blue eyes.

  She fit somewhere in between the teasing camaraderie he had learned to share with Taylor and his natural desire to be intimate with a woman. In other words, she was a novel experience that simultaneously pleased and frustrated him to the point that he wasn’t sure how to relate to her.

  Furthermore, watching her lose her temper with him was better than being the object of her sympathy and watching her battle tears. Quinn was never going to pamper, cater to or fawn over this woman. He simply didn’t have it in him and she needed to know that.

  He and Piper were going to share an arduous journey through these rugged mountains and she was going to have to toughen up because he couldn’t spend all his time wondering when she would burst into tears, when she would fall apart and tell him that she couldn’t take anymore.

  She had asked for this, he reminded himself. This ordeal would test her to the limits. It was high time she figured that out and realized that he wasn’t going to mollycoddle her the way most men probably did.

  “All right, Callahan,” she seethed at him, her hands fisted on her shapely hips, her full breasts heaving with indignation. “So you’ve had a difficult life and don’t give a tinker’s damn about anyone. You’re entitled, I agree. That doesn’t mean my life hasn’t been frustrating, even if I haven’t faced the kind of hardships you’ve endured.”

  She glared at him good and hard and said, “But when you start treating me as if I count for nothing and my feelings are of no importance then you are too much like my father and you are standing on the last good nerve I have left today!”

  Her rising voice echoed around the canyon and Quinn said, “Stop shouting before you draw unwanted attention. Those hombres over the ridge might decide to check it out. I know I would.”

  She dropped to her knees in front of him, wincing slightly when she landed on her scraped leg. She had regained the color in her cheeks—due to the anger she directed at him, he expected. He didn’t flinch when she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and got right in his face to blow off steam.

  “You want to know what motivates me? All you had to do was ask.” Her unique eyes glittered with fiery temper and feisty spirit. “I want independence, freedom and the chance to make my own choices, for once in my life. And I’m not afraid to accept the consequences.

  “For your information my father, Roarke Sullivan, the reigning king of merchants in Texas, sees me as the extension of his will. He took over full responsibility of raising my sister and me after Mamma died of pneumonia eight years ago. He is infuriatingly domineering and he decided to marry me off so he could merge our family business with his closest competition. I objected so I lit out before he could drag me into a wedding I didn’t want and find myself tied to a man I will never love.”

  “Sullivan?” His eyes popped. “Holy hell! You are an heiress.
Even I’ve heard of the Sullivans of Galveston.”

  “Fabulously wealthy. The envy of society’s upper crust,” she said distastefully. “But I have no wish to marry John Almighty Foster and pose as the empty-headed trophy on his arm, the belle of the ball that he expects me to be.”

  Quinn chuckled, trying to picture Piper as the dutiful, submissive wife. The image didn’t fit her assertive, spirited personality.

  “For years my father has tried to browbeat me by siccing a teacher on me who was everything you met in Agatha Stewart,” she confided. “According to Miss Johnson, I could never do anything quite right. I was too willful, too headstrong, too much of a free spirit to stay in my rightful place. She tried to make me docile and subservient, because that’s what Papa thought a woman should be when she took a husband.”

  Quinn swallowed down a smile, thinking that this Miss Johnson person had been given a daunting task. Taming Piper, who had more sass, spunk and determination than any woman he had ever encountered, was as useless as beating your head against a brick wall.

  Altering Piper’s natural temperament would be as much of a waste of time as trying to mold him into a socially accepted gentleman.

  “My father wanted a puppet he could control,” she went on bitterly. “But he didn’t get it with my older sister, because she dared to take control of her own life when she married Captain Matthew Duncan, who is now stationed at Fort Davis. Papa gave up on Penny completely. He tried even harder to make me into the daughter who met his high expectations and acquiesced to his decrees.”

  “Roarke disowned your sister?” Quinn questioned.

  She bobbed her head and finally released her stranglehold on his shirt. “Yes, he denounced her right to inherit half the Sullivan fortune. He cut her off without a cent when she eloped. Papa tried to make an example of her to teach me a lesson and ensure that history didn’t repeat itself.”

  Quinn grinned. “Guess he picked the wrong woman to bend to his will, didn’t he?”