by Sabine Starr
When she came to the U.S. Marshal’s office of the Eastern District of Texas, she hesitated before going inside. She glanced to the side and saw Rune stop and pretend to look in a store’s front window. As she reached for the doorknob, the door opened, and a tall, lean man stepped out.
“Pardon, ma’am,” he said.
From Rune’s description, she recognized Marshal Bill Phillips and thanked her lucky stars for him making her job easier. She smiled and quickly gave the AHTA hand sign. “I need your help.”
He looked surprised. “Could I see that again?”
She gave the sign once more. “I’m an AHTA widow.”
Marshal Phillips nodded. “How may I help you?”
“Verity Whiteside is a friend of mine. Deputy Tate Thornton, her fiancé, has disappeared.”
“I’m well aware of that fact. We’re doing all we can do to locate him.”
“I understand. She is . . . well, indisposed, so I promised I would check to see if there was any progress.”
“Would you like to come inside where it’s cooler and more private?” He gestured toward the door.
“Thank you, but no. I can’t stay long.”
“In that case, there’s still no word about him.”
“I understand he was investigating the Badger Gang.”
“We’re all trying to get a lead on that gang. I heard yesterday that they may be holed up near Horsethief Spring in the Ouachita Mountains. That’s out of our jurisdiction, but Marshal Boles in the Western District of Arkansas has his deputies on the case. If he hears anything about Tate, he’ll let me know.” Marshal Phillips shook his head. “Sorry I can’t be of more help.”
“Thank you. Verity will be happy to hear you’re still looking for Tate.”
“You bet we are. Check back with my office. We’re doing our best. When you talk with AHTA members, please let them know we always appreciate their help.”
“I’ll do that.”
He held out his hand to shake. “I didn’t catch your name.”
She smiled as she shook his hand. “Perhaps another time.” She turned and quickly walked back down the boardwalk, feeling his gaze sharp between her shoulder blades.
As she moved past Rune, she looked the other way, hoping the marshal didn’t decide to question her more or notice the gunslinger dogging her tracks. As quickly as possible, she stepped inside a store and pretended to shop while the proprietor helped other customers.
That had gone much more quickly and easily than she had expected, so she was ahead of schedule. Now she had to kill time before her reading at Harris Mercantile. In hindsight, she wished she had read first and talked to the marshal second, but she’d been afraid that if she waited his office might be closed. Now she feared that she’d called too much attention to herself and he might watch to see where she went. If he did, he’d see her as Angelica, and then she’d have even more explaining to do.
For now, she had time to catch her breath. She noticed a shadow in the doorway and looked up. Rune. He filled the space, a powerful figure that made most others appear small in comparison.
He walked over casually and picked up a cowboy hat. “Phillips is suspicious. Let’s get out of town.”
“We can’t,” she whispered. “My reading is next.”
“Skip it.”
“No. It means a lot to me.” She spoke louder than she meant to and several customers glanced over at her. She quickly picked up a shirt, and then dropped it. “He’s probably suspicious of everything.”
“He may have seen me.”
“That’s impossible.”
“What did you learn?”
“No word on Tate. Marshal Phillips thinks the gang may be holed up near Horsethief Spring in the—”
“That’s like saying a bear likes honey. Nothing more?”
“Other deputies are on the case.”
“Either he’s holding out on you or they’re making no headway at all.”
“He seemed like a nice man.”
“So he wouldn’t lie.” Rune glanced outside, and then back at her. “Okay. Start your reading early and cut it short.”
“Aren’t you going to thank me?” She looked up into his blue eyes, cold and ruthless as a winter storm.
“Thanks. I’ll be out back of Harris Mercantile when you’re done.” He leaned close. “Don’t dawdle. I can’t afford to get caught.”
When he was gone, she was on her own. Doubts plagued her. Should she have listened to him? Was one reading worth the risk? Surely the marshal hadn’t noticed Rune. They’d been careful. She hadn’t even looked at him. She’d come straight into this store. Still, she had the nagging feeling that she might have made the wrong decision.
She pushed that worry from her mind. Now was not the time for doubts. She had an audience to please.
Chapter Sixteen
Rune stood in the alley, leaning against the back wall of Harris Mercantile. Several discarded bottles in shades of blue and green poked out of the packed dirt alongside scraggly yellow dandelions.
He had pulled his hat low to conceal his face, but he remained on high alert. He reeked of tobacco, whiskey, and sweat, none of it his own. He’d traded his brocade vest to an old codger for a stained and tattered one. He’d also traded him a good John B. for a broken down, dirt-brown cowboy hat. Best he could do on short notice to change his appearance. It wouldn’t be enough if anybody looked close, but he counted on keeping his distance.
Rune didn’t know for sure that Marshal Phillips had recognized him, or been suspicious of Angel, but he had seen too many deputies around town for comfort. He wouldn’t take a chance.
Comfort for Angel was gone. If they went to the train station, they’d be sitting ducks. He had rented two geldings. They were waiting at a livery stable several doors down, saddled and ready to go. Now all he had to do was get her, get there, and get out of town.
He could hear Angel reading through the back door left open to create a breeze through the store. He’d liked her better as a plucky schoolmarm. She’d changed from innocent and fun loving to vain and mirror gazing, what with her dime novel, fancy clothes, and speechifying. Too bad the changes hadn’t done a thing to cool his lust.
If she didn’t hurry up, he was about ready to go in there and throw her over his shoulder again.
As he waited, he heard glass break farther down the alley, as if somebody had stepped on a bottle. He didn’t look. He simply stepped to the side and melted back into the dimness of the store and silently closed the door behind him. He heard footsteps grow closer, then stop outside. He held his breath. A moment later, footsteps moved on down the alley.
That could’ve been a deputy searching Paris or a cowboy taking a shortcut across town. No way to know. Rune stayed one step ahead of the law by anticipating trouble, not reacting to it.
He glanced around the storeroom, boxes stacked here and there. A curtained doorway led into the store. He could hear Angel’s audience finally breaking up and leaving on the other side. He noticed a curtained alcove in case he needed a place to hide. As he looked at what must be a changing room, he heard the curtain to the store swish open.
“Oh my goodness, you must be Angelica’s Viking. Did you get tired of waiting?”
Rune whirled around. A trim, dark-haired woman in a blue gingham dress stood just inside the storeroom.
“I’m Mrs. Kay Harris, owner of Harris Mercantile.” She smiled, dark eyes sparkling, as she closed the curtain behind her. “I heard about your appearance in Dennison, but I never dreamed I’d get to meet you in person.”
“Howdy.” He stood on the balls of his feet, poised for fight or flight till he knew what to expect from this stranger.
She put a hand to her heart. “Angelica really is writing from true life, isn’t she?”
“Yes, ma’am, she is.” He smiled, judging she wasn’t a danger, and politely took off his hat. “Right now, we could sure use your help.”
“My help?” She stepped closer
. “Anything. Angelica is wonderful. I sold so many copies of her book today that now I’ll be selling lots of dime novels by other authors.”
“Glad to hear it.” He hesitated, seeing an opportunity and quickly making up a story. “There’s an unwanted male admirer hanging around that she’d like to avoid.”
“Has he made improper advances?”
Rune looked away, shaking his head. “I’d rather not say.”
“Certainly not!”
“I’d like to buy her a different outfit, something that changes her looks and would be good for riding a horse. I couldn’t get a sidesaddle.”
“Western women are independent. They do not always subscribe to social constrictions such as sidesaddles. They’re bad for women and bad for horses. I have just the thing. A split-skirt and matching blouse. Hat. Scarf.” She looked him over. “Maybe something for you, too?”
“Sorry about the smell. I had to trade my hat and vest to alter my appearance. Didn’t want to lead that guy to Angelica.”
“Perfectly understandable. I suggest something new and neutral.”
He nodded, feeling pleased this one thing was going easy.
“Mrs. Harris?” Angel called, pushing aside the curtain. She looked at Rune in surprise. “What are you doing in here?”
“He very wisely asked for my help. Naturally my lips are sealed. Trust me to do what needs to be done.”
Angel looked in confusion from one to the other.
Mrs. Harris gestured for Angel to come closer. “Please wait here while I select some clothes. No one will be the wiser.” She stepped out, closing the curtain behind her.
“Rune, what’s going on?” Angel moved closer, searching his face. “Are we in trouble?”
“Deputies are all over the place. Could mean nothing, but—”
“You think it does.”
“I don’t want to take a chance. Figured we ought to change our appearance and get out of town fast.” He looked her over. “A buggy’s too slow, so I rented horses. I couldn’t get a sidesaddle, but you rode astride in Indian Territory.”
“What about the train?”
“Marshal Phillips most likely will have somebody watching the depot.”
“Are you planning to cross into Indian Territory? It’s not too far from here.”
“No. We’ve got to get back to the Bend and meet up with the V Gang.”
“Guess there’s no choice.” Angel took a deep breath. “But what did you tell Mrs. Harris to get her so involved with our situation?”
He grinned, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Here we are!” Mrs. Harris snapped back the curtain and hurried into the storeroom, arms full of clothes. “I believe I selected the right size. I’ll just put these in the changing room. While you transform yourself, I’ll go set up a lovely display of Sweet Rescue in the Indian Territory.” She winked conspiratorially and then bustled out of sight.
“What is going on?” Angel asked again.
“Later.”
She pulled back the curtain to the changing alcove. “I’m not wearing my corset on such a long, hot ride.”
“No complaints from me.”
“I’ll need your help.”
“Even better.”
She sniffed. “Where did you get that hat and vest?”
“Made a trade.” Rune shucked off the vest and tossed it along with the hat into a corner. “I’m getting better replacements.”
“Wouldn’t take much.” She slipped into the alcove and closed the curtain behind her.
Rune had waited a long time to get Angel out of her clothes. He listened to the rustle of fabric and let his mind wander over the possibilities. He knew he should keep his thoughts on the danger at hand, but a naked Angel trumped aces.
“Rune, come here.”
He opened the curtain, entered the small area, and closed the curtain behind him. She wore white, and the dim light created shadows in all the right places. She also wore too much, what with the corset and long petticoats, but her shoulders and the slopes of her breasts were bare. The scent of lavender rose from her heated flesh. Without conscious thought, he reached for her.
She turned, presenting her back. “If you’ll unhook the clasps, I’ll be out of this corset fast.”
But he couldn’t resist touching her. He settled his hands on her shoulders and slid down the length of her arms. She felt soft, warm, and inviting. He spanned her small waist with his large hands, fingertips to fingertips.
“Perfect,” he said, stirring her hair with his breath.
She sighed softly, leaning against his chest. “The hooks are in back.”
He placed a kiss on her shoulder, stroking her soft skin with the tip of his tongue. She shivered at his touch. Made him want her all the more. He felt hot desire sweep through him, leaving him hard enough to plow her furrow till she begged for more.
“How are you doing in there?” Mrs. Harris called from outside the curtain.
Rune silently cursed the interruption, but kept holding Angel close.
“I’m leaving a hat and vest out here. Call if you need me.”
“Thanks.” He barely got the word out.
When they were alone again, he trailed kisses across Angel’s shoulders, savoring her like a starving man. He heard her take a ragged breath, and then stiffen in his arms.
“Rune, we must hurry and—”
“Wouldn’t take long.” He nipped her ear lobe, gently setting his teeth to her soft, sensitive skin.
She shivered again. “I’m serious.”
He reluctantly let her go, taking a deep breath. What was he thinking, or not thinking? He quickly unhooked the back of her corset. He might be a fool about Angel, but he wasn’t a total fool.
He left the changing room and found what Mrs. Harris had left him. He pulled on a brown vest and settled a straw Stetson on his head. “I’ll go pay Mrs. Harris and be right back.”
In the store, Mrs. Harris was setting up a display of books. She smiled up at him, eyes glinting with suppressed excitement.
He placed two gold Eagles on the counter. “Let me get some beef jerky and crackers for the trail. Extra ammunition, too.”
She selected his items and set them on the counter. “Anything else?”
“Two canteens.”
“I’ll fill them with water for you.”
While she did that, he looked around. “Nice store you’ve got here.”
“Thank you. My husband started it, but I’m a widow now.”
“My condolences.”
“Thank you. It’s been a few years. Not easy ones, mind you. Still I’ve made a go of it.”
“Looks like you’ve done more than that.”
She set the canteens on the counter. “I appreciate your kind words. If I can be of more help to you or Angelica, please let me know.”
“I will.”
“And I do hope you’ll both come back for her next book.”
“Don’t know about me, but I bet she’ll be here with bells on.”
Mrs. Harris cocked her head, giving him a considering look. “I won’t be a bit surprised to see you here with her.”
“Appreciate your help.” He started to say something he’d probably regret when he heard the bell on the front door jingle. He looked in that direction.
A tall man with a marshal badge on his vest stepped inside the open door, blinking as he adjusted from bright sunlight to dim interior.
Rune grabbed his merchandise and ducked behind the counter, cursing his bad luck.
Chapter Seventeen
When Rune slipped into the storeroom and put a fingertip to his lips, Angel knew it couldn’t be good.
She froze, gazing toward the front of the store, even though she couldn’t see through the curtain, and listening for any untoward sounds.
“Deputy is here,” Rune said.
She felt a frisson of fear. “Is he looking for us?”
“Didn’t wait to find out.” He handed her a ca
nteen. “Ready to go?” She nodded, thinking fast. She had already put on her new, comfortable traveling clothes, knowing her button boots would work fine on horseback. The beige cowboy hat Mrs. Harris had selected fit, too. She’d rolled her dress, hat, and wig inside her black shawl to tie on the back of a saddle.
“Glad you thought to get some food.” She kept her voice low. “I can tuck it in with my clothes.”
He handed over the packet of food and box of ammunition, and then opened the back door. “Let’s go.”
She bundled everything together and picked up her reticule before she stepped out ahead of him. She glanced in both directions, didn’t see anybody, and gave a sigh of relief.
He quietly shut the door, took hold of her arm, and started down the alley, moving at a quick clip.
When they reached the back of the livery stable, he stopped and looked around. “Stay here. I’ll get the horses and come back for you.”
She watched him walk away, long legs eating up the ground fast. He looked like trouble, a big, powerful, menacing presence. Perhaps only she knew about his gentle, tender, caring side, if it still existed somewhere deep inside him. If it did, she wanted to coax it free. She shivered at the memory of his touch, his kisses, his heat. Even knowing the danger to her heart, she craved him, ached for him, burned for him. She still felt hot and wet and tender.
As if he materialized from her thoughts, Angel saw him leading two horses toward her. If ever a man was hero material, Rune fit the image in spades. Maybe she’d been thinking about him in the wrong way, resisting when she should have been succumbing, pushing away when she should have been pulling in, taking when she should have been giving.
Sweet Rescue in the Indian Territory was only her first dime novel. Now, readers wanted more stories based on her real-life experiences. She wanted to write them, but she didn’t have any more exciting stories, not like she did for the first book. When she’d been kidnapped off the train in Indian Territory by outlaws and rescued by Rune, she’d opened herself up to his wild and wonderful world without a thought to the danger. After he’d broken her heart and she’d broken his life, she’d refused to allow any possible pain to ever reach her again.
