Carol Finch

by The Ranger's Woman

  Which did nothing for her disposition.

  Quinn spoke quietly to the warriors who nodded at her, then walked off into the darkness.

  Puzzled, Piper stared after them. “My, you do have a knack of offending a person and provoking them to get up and leave, don’t you?”

  “I asked them to grant us privacy for the night,” Quinn said as he came to stand over her.

  She rose to her feet. “I expected you to bed down as far away from me as you could get after you turned tail and ran off earlier.”

  His gaze narrowed on her, not that she was the least bit intimidated. No matter how aggravated she made him, she had discovered that he would never raise his hand to her. His voice? Yes, on occasion. But she had the same habit so who was she to complain about that?

  “You are trying to provoke me again,” he grumbled.

  “Agatha would be so pleased.”

  Quinn pivoted on his heels to stride over to the pallet. “I’ve thought it over and I’ve decided you’re right.”

  “About what?” She walked over to sink down cross-legged in front of him.

  “You want a marriage license for protection and convenience and you want instruction on passion, so I’m going to make you a deal.”

  Her surprised gaze swept up to meet his carefully blank stare. Was he teasing her? Most likely. But she couldn’t resist saying, “I’m humbled by your self-sacrifice on my behalf. You will, of course, be monetarily compensated.”

  “You are annoying me again,” he said, his deep voice rumbling with warning.

  “And if you become much more romantic in presenting your proposal I will surely swoon at your feet—”

  Her taunting voice trailed off when he cupped her face in both hands and stared intently at her. “I am giving you one last chance to change your mind, Piper. If you wake up tomorrow full of regret and realize you have made a hasty decision that you would like to retract then it will be too late.”

  The gentle touch of his hands stirred an undeniable longing inside her. It was proof enough that her body called out to his. She did want him. She wanted the intimacy she had rejected until she met a man who thoroughly intrigued and fascinated her.

  He was the one. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did.

  One night with Quinn was a memory she knew she would cherish in the years to come. She would have one bright, shining moment of pleasure to savor. Surely it would be worth the hurt of watching him ride out of her life.

  And he would; she had no illusions about that.

  “When we reach Catoosa Gulch we will make this marriage legal in the white man’s culture and you will have your signed document. But in the ways of the Kiowa and Comanche, a woman has only to give her assent and join a warrior in his tipi to make the marriage binding.” His thumbs brushed over her lips and he smiled wryly. “The wilderness is my tipi, Piper. You are already here. Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?”

  “Yes,” she murmured as she pressed her lips to his.

  Her frustration melted away as his sinewy arms enfolded her. Hungry need surged through her as she savored the addictive taste of him and reveled in the feel of his muscular body melded familiarly to hers. His hands glided over her hips and she shimmered with radiating pleasure that burned to her very core. He nipped at her bottom lip, tugging at it the same way that erotic sensations tugged at her feminine body.

  When she moaned his name he responded with a rumbling growl. And then the palm of his hand settled between her legs and red-hot desire coiled deep inside her. Piper forgot to breathe—couldn’t remember why she needed to—when his questing hand glided beneath the waistband of her breeches to brush intimately against her. He caressed her with thumb and forefinger, penetrating her heated flesh until she gasped and shivered and pressed eagerly against his hand.

  Piper felt herself falling deeper into the sensual web of breathless need as he stroked her gently. His tongue plunged into her mouth, mimicking the rhythmic motion of his fingertip. Sensation after inexpressible sensation converged on her, burning her up from inside out.

  Quinn explored the hidden secrets of her body and marveled at the pleasure he derived from touching her so intimately. When she melted around his fingertip he swore the earth had shifted beneath him. Pleasure rippled through him and his body clenched with throbbing need. He longed to bury himself in her velvety heat and burn alive in the hottest sweetest fire he had ever known.

  “I want you,” he whispered as he tugged impatiently at her breeches. “I want to be inside you. Now. This very minute.”

  “That’s where I need you,” she said with a ragged breath. “Now. This very minute.”

  She reached for the placket of his buckskin breeches, wanting to touch him as familiarly as he had touched her, wanting to return the incredible pleasure that rippled through her.

  Suddenly she heard the clatter of hooves on the ledge above them. Voices echoed in the still of the night, jostling Piper from her pleasure-induced daze. Before she could react to the possible threat of danger Quinn was already on his feet. He jerked her up beside him and snatched up their bedroll. He bustled Piper beneath the outcropping of rock then smothered the small campfire.

  Piper was still trying to regain her senses when Quinn pressed a pistol into her hand. “Stay here and pay attention.”

  “But—”

  He touched his forefinger to her lips to shush her. “This is when you obey my orders without question.”

  Grabbing his bullwhip, Quinn scurried around the corner. When the pup, that had been napping by the fire before they abruptly disturbed him, tried to trot after Quinn, Piper cuddled him close. She sat frozen to the spot when she heard the unidentified riders moving closer. Everything inside her rebelled against allowing Quinn to confront the intruders alone, but she did as she was told.

  Staying put didn’t stop her from fearing for Quinn’s safety. Once again, she chastised herself for being incompetent. This might be the one time Quinn needed someone to watch his back and she didn’t possess the skills to assist him.

  That realization tormented her to no end while she waited helplessly for Quinn’s return. And he had better come back in one piece or she would never forgive herself.

  Quinn crouched beside an oversize slab of rock to appraise the five riders that filed along the trail that lay ten feet below him. Mexican banditos. He had a pretty good idea where they were headed. There was nothing he would like better than to take the men captive and interrogate them. He wanted to be well informed before his Ranger battalion laid siege to the remote stronghold.

  Pensively, he contemplated the best method of attack—and wished there had been time to alert the two Comanches for backup. Well, it wasn’t the first time he had worked alone, he thought as he waited until the last rider passed directly beneath him.

  Like a pouncing cougar, Quinn sprang from the ledge to catch the rider unaware. The butt of his pistol connected with the bandito’s skull and put him out like a doused lantern. When the man slumped forward on the skittish horse, Quinn bounded into the saddle to grab the reins. He hauled his unconscious captive up in front of him like a shield.

  When the nearest rider swiveled in the saddle to determine the cause of the muffled sounds, Quinn lashed out with his bullwhip. It curled around the second rider’s neck like a striking snake. One quick jerk sent the man cartwheeling off his horse to collide with the perpendicular wall of stone.

  Quinn was ready and waiting when the other three men tried to wheel their horses around, only to become log-jammed by the walls of the narrow ravine. Their mounts collided as they grabbed for their pistols. Quinn’s whip cracked and hissed repeatedly as he sent the weapons leaping from the bandoleros’ hands.

  Shouts and curses of pain erupted while Quinn thrust out his whip to jerk one man after another from the saddle.

  “Very impressive,” Red Hawk called from somewhere overhead.

  “Thanks for nothing,” Quinn snorted while he held the
four conscious outlaws at gunpoint.

  Spotted Deer grinned. “If you had needed our help we would have joined in.”

  Quinn heard the cascade of sand and pebbles that indicated the Comanches were sidestepping down the slope above him.

  “Besides,” Red Hawk said, smiling wryly, “we had farther to come since you sent us away from camp.”

  “We have money to trade for our freedom,” the potbellied Mexican negotiated in Spanish.

  “Robbed another stage, did you?” Quinn pushed the unconscious outlaw into Red Hawk’s arms, then dismounted.

  “No,” the rail-thin bandit hurriedly denied. “It’s our hard-earned wages.”

  “Doubt it,” Quinn smirked as he went over to remove the lasso attached to one of the men’s saddles.

  With the Comanches’ assistance he secured the bandits’ hands in rope, then herded them to camp. The warriors trailed behind him with the confiscated horses.

  A pleased smile pursed Quinn’s lips when he rounded the corner to find Piper exactly where he had left her. She released Lucky and the mutt trotted over to thump his tail against Quinn’s leg in greeting.

  “A gaggle of Knights, I presume,” Piper said as she inspected the men who were strung together like a chain gang. She glanced approvingly at Quinn and the warriors. “The three of you work well together.”

  “We could have if those two sleepyheads had arrived sooner. They left me to do all the work,” Quinn replied.

  Piper’s wide-eyed gaze lifted to him, amazed by his nonchalant acceptance of his impressive abilities. She would have been thrilled if she possessed a third of his skills.

  When Quinn gestured for the bandits to sit down, they reluctantly obliged. After he had secured the ends of the rope to a juniper, one of the men glanced back and forth between him and the two warriors. “What are you gonna do with us?” he asked in stilted English.

  Piper wasn’t surprised that Quinn ignored the question. She had discovered early on that Quinn only offered information sparingly. Apparently, he planned to let the desperadoes stew in their own juice for the night.

  To her amusement she watched Quinn shake out the bedroll then encircled it with the pistols, rifles and knives that he had confiscated from his captives. After she and Quinn bedded down side by side, the Comanches retrieved their gear and returned to camp to guard the prisoners.

  Well, so much for the complete intimate knowledge she had hoped to gain of Quinn tonight, she thought, disheartened.

  “Maybe this was a sign that it wasn’t meant to be,” Quinn murmured as he stretched out next to her, placing himself directly between her and the string of bandits.

  She levered herself up on her elbow to peer down at him. “Or perhaps it was just a sign that this was the wrong time and place.” She smiled impishly. “I’m still holding you to our agreement, so don’t think you can weasel out of it.”

  The smoldering look he flashed her served to soothe her disappointment. Then his expression sobered. “This is when you sleep with one eye open,” he insisted. “Never take for granted that just because men are tied up that they can’t find some way to get loose. So don’t get too comfortable.”

  She cast the banditos a wary glance as she settled beside him on the pallet.

  “And Piper?”

  Her gaze swung back to him. “Yes?”

  “Thanks for staying where I left you. I needed to know you were safe so I could focus on my duties.”

  She pulled a face at him. “I can help you the most by doing nothing at all? You might as well come right out and say I have no use whatsoever.”

  “You have your use. We just got interrupted.”

  Her head snapped up, and she was tempted to whack him soundly on the head for insulting her. When she noticed the teasing grin that quirked his lips she settled her ruffled feathers.

  “A shame that,” she replied saucily. “Because I had planned for you to be well used and completely worn out by this time of night.”

  When his jaw fell open and he gaped at her, she turned her back on him. She was pleased with herself for giving him food for thought while they both slept with one eye open, deprived of their chance to take up where they had left off an hour earlier.

  The next morning Piper awakened to the sound of voices and the smell of coffee brewing on the campfire. Apparently Quinn had rummaged through the bandits’ saddlebags to make use of their supplies. She presumed the warriors had been hunting again because there were two rabbits roasting over the fire.

  Her mouth watered in hungry anticipation.

  Rolling to her feet, Piper ambled over to survey the other items Quinn had confiscated from the saddlebags. Her gaze widened in alarm when she recognized a jewel-studded ring and gold watch that were among the stolen loot.

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn questioned warily.

  “These belong to my father,” she murmured as she stared at a large wad of bank notes that lay beside the watch. “He must have figured out where I was going and decided to come after me himself.”

  The prospect of her father meeting with calamity because he was chasing after her was unsettling. Piper wanted her freedom but certainly not at her father’s expense. Conversely, the thought of reaching her destination, only to have Roarke waiting to cart her back to Galveston sent her spirits plummeting.

  Confound it, if not for the holdup and delays she might have reunited with her sister before Roarke arrived. The last thing Piper wanted was for Penelope to have to deal with their father’s unexpected arrival alone.

  A sense of urgency had Piper pacing around camp, busying herself with rolling up the pallet and tucking away supplies. Quinn must have sensed her apprehension for he was on his feet, keeping pace beside her.

  “I questioned the bandits about the stage robbery. It didn’t take place on the same stretch of road where we were held up,” he assured her. “The three passengers were unharmed, but they were left to walk the last several miles to the next stage stop.”

  Piper’s shoulders sagged in relief. Her father had been robbed, but he was unhurt. Now all she had to do was deal with his temper. No doubt, the inconveniences he had endured during the trip would do nothing to sweeten his disposition.

  “We’ll head for Catoosa Gulch after breakfast,” Quinn informed her. “As soon as I jail these outlaws and notify my commander I’ll take you to the fort.” He grasped her arm to halt her nervous pacing. “I will also be there to ensure Roarke doesn’t force you onto an eastbound stage with him.”

  Piper smiled appreciatively at his insistent tone. “Thank you. I’m not looking forward to that confrontation, but I will handle Papa myself. There is no need for you to escort me to my sister if I can catch a stage headed south.”

  “We made a deal,” Quinn reminded her. “One of several bargains we made. There is also the matter of the license. If nothing else, you will have that…if you still want it.”

  “I wanted more,” she told him honestly, then glanced at the string of Mexican prisoners whose unexpected arrival last night had interrupted them at an inopportune moment. “But we don’t always get our way, do we?”

  “No, sometimes we get what’s best.”

  Quinn gestured for Piper to make use of one of the saddled horses rather than riding bareback. He could tell by her hurried motions that she was anxious to get moving. Her plans were falling apart around her and she dreaded the confrontation with her father.

  It amazed Quinn that he was more concerned about resolving Piper’s problems than assembling a strike force to attack the stronghold so he could avenge Taylor Briggs’s death. Damn it, he had lost his single-minded focus this past week. It was impossible to concentrate on his mission when Piper preoccupied his thoughts.

  Wheeling around, Quinn strode over to dole out food to his captives. He noticed that Piper had separated herself from the men and chose to take her meal alone. No doubt, she was mentally rehearsing what she intended to say to Roarke.

  He should have made a beel
ine to the garrison, Quinn scolded himself. If he had, Piper and Penelope could have presented a united force when Roarke showed up.

  Although Quinn had heard that old cliché about how things usually worked out for the best he had never really believed it. He had been there on too many occasions to observe how things worked out for the absolute worst. But despite Piper’s determination to face her father alone, Quinn intended to be there to provide reinforcement.

  He had come to care more for Piper than he should have and he couldn’t ride away until he knew her life was back on course. He vowed to make damn sure that she acquired the freedom and independence that meant so much to her.

  If he had any say in the matter, Piper was going to get her heart’s desire. She sure as hell deserved it after all that he had unintentionally put her through the past several days.

  Roarke Sullivan was not in the best of moods while he hiked downhill to the crude station that stood right smack dab in the middle of nowhere. He had been cramped up on a train, and then a stagecoach for three days. Then he had been robbed at gunpoint and forced to walk half the night. He had to rely on the kindness of the proprietor to provide a meager meal because his money had been stolen, along with his valuable ring and his watch.

  Begging for charity did not set any better with Roarke than being robbed.

  The meal he choked down was the worst food he had ever tasted. The thought of Piper being subjected to these despicable accommodations incensed Roarke. Worse, the prospect of never seeing Piper again haunted his every waking hour.

  When Roarke finished his tasteless meal he was offered a straw mat on the floor to catch a nap while he and the other two male passengers waited for the next stage. While he lay there staring up at the cobwebs on the ceiling, he wondered if he would reach a community that had a bank or telegraph office. He needed to replenish his funds to complete this disastrous journey.

  A trip to hell and back, he thought as he rolled to his side and closed his eyes. He was never venturing this far west until the railroad was up and running, he promised himself. And how in God’s name had Penelope adjusted and survived in this vast wasteland that was rife with bandits, scorpions, rattlers and who knew what other vicious varmints?