Renegade's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  "What time were you planning on leaving?"

  "A little after nine. Would you like to meet us in the hotel lobby right at nine? The Wallaces are traveling with us, too. They've been chaperoning us for the trip."

  "I'll be there. It's been nice meeting you both." He stood to go. "I'll see you in the morning."

  Charles left them, and after a few minutes, they started back to the hotel to retire for the night.

  "What an interesting man," Maureen remarked thoughtfully as she joined Sheri in her room for a minute.

  "Yes, Brand is," Sheri replied. "I can't wait to finally meet him face-to-face."

  Maureen smiled. She'd been talking about Charles Brennan, not the scout. "It should prove interesting."

  "He is going to make the most wonderful hero. You know how readers love heroes with tortured pasts. This man is perfect."

  "I hope he goes along with your plan."

  "So do I. I'll be very circumspect. I won't annoy him in any way. I just want to find out what the real Brand is like, so I can make him come alive for my readers. I also want to learn everything I can about the way he lives, from the food he eats to the clothes he wears."

  "For some reason, I have the feeling that this isn't going to be as easy as it seems."

  "That doesn't matter. I'm going to make this my best book ever. Carroll and Condon are going to be so proud of me. Once they see the sales on Brand, the Half-Breed Scout, they're going to discover they don't need Tex Bennett any more. They've got meSheridan St. John." Sheri's pride had been badly damaged, and she was bound and determined to prove her worth.

  "You'll do it. I know you will."

  "All I have to do is write the rest of the book." She grinned ruefully.

  "Well, at least you're all the way up to the kidnapping."

  "But I don't know any of the rest of it. I won't be able to write much more until I've met Brand."

  "The good news is, you're going to do that tomorrow."

  A short while later, after Maureen had gone on to her own room, Sheri lay in bed trying to imagine what the next day was going to bring. An image of the blue-eyed warrior she'd seen earlier that day played in her mind, and as she drifted off, she wondered. . . .

  The ride to Fort McDowell was long, hot, and dusty, but there was never a lack of conversation. Charles regaled Sheri, Maureen, and the Wallaces with interesting stories about the Territory.

  Sheri listened attentively to his tales as she watched the passing scenery out the window. She had her paper and pencil handy and took notes whenever she saw something she thought she might be able to use in her work.

  "You're really serious about this, aren't you?' Charles asked, noticing how intense her expression was as she studied the landscape.

  Sheri looked up at him, her regard steady. "Very. I've traveled over a thousand miles for this moment.

  I don't intend to waste a second of it."

  "What do you think of Arizona so far?"

  "I think it's exactly the way people back East envision ita vast, untamed wilderness, just waiting for heroes like Buck McCade and Brand to civilize it."

  "It would be wonderful if real life was as easily dealt with as fiction, but I'm not sure you're going to be finding a happy ending here."

  "You're concerned about Brand?"

  "Not concerned . . . just cautious. As I told you last night, he's a hard man. There's no scout more loyal or trustworthy, but remember, for all that he's learned the white man's ways, Brand is still half Indian."

  "Don't worry. I won't do anything to offend him. I just want to get my story."

  "I'm looking forward to reading it when you're through. Make sure you let me know when it's published," Charles told her.

  "Us, too!" Joyce Wallace put in. She had listened to their conversations about this upcoming book and was growing excited about it. She found she was almost as anxious as Sheri and Maureen about meeting this famous scout. "When do you think it will be released?"

  "If my writing goes well, it should be out some time next year. I'll be sure to let you know."

  "Look!" Maureen interrupted as she caught sight of the fort in the distance. "Is that McDowell?"

  "It is," Charles answered. "We should be there in just a few more minutes. You did say that you were expected?"

  "Yes. Our cousin had contacts in Washington who helped set this up for us. We're to meet with a Lieutenant Long."

  Charles looked less than enthusiastic. "You're dealing with Long, are you?"

  "Yes, why?" Sheri asked perceptively.

  "No reason."

  "You don't like him?" She sensed some disapproval in his tone.

  "I don't know him well enough to like or dislike him. I've only had a few passing dealings with him."

  "And?"

  "And he's been unremarkable." He tried his best not to prejudice her against the pompous, arrogant ass. "I think you'll find Sergeant O'Toole more to your liking. He's a good-natured, down-to-earth man."

  "Meaning this Lieutenant Long isn't?"

  "I'll leave you to form your own opinion."

  The stage rumbled into the fort then and drew to a stop before the commander's office. Fred and Charles climbed out and then turned to help the ladies down. Joyce and Maureen descended first, followed by Sheri.

  Sheri gazed out across the parade ground at the neatly appointed officers' quarters and thought it quite a nice place, considering its location in the middle of nowhere.

  "Good afternoon." A tall, blond-haired, slickly handsome lieutenant emerged from the office.

  Instinctively, Sheri knew this was Long, and she immediately understood Charles's reaction to him.

  "Lieutenant Long," Charles said as he stepped forward to greet him.

  "Brennan," he said with less than enthusiasm. "What brings you here?"

  "These ladies are anxious to meet you."

  Long looked curious. He couldn't imagine who these young women were, but he was eager to find out. It wasn't often that pretty women came to the Territory.

  "Welcome to Fort McDowell," he said courteously. "I'm Lieutenant Long, at your service."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. I'm Fred Wallace. This is my wife, Joyce, and these two lovely young ladies are Miss Maureen Cleaver and Miss Sheridan St. John from New York City."

  Long had been listening attentively, and at the news that this striking beauty was Sheridan St. John, he was shocked.

  "You're Sheridan St. John?" He stepped nearer and peered at her in disbelief, then smiled widely. "We were all under the impression that you were a man."

  Sheri smiled blithely. It certainly wasn't the first time the mistake had been made and it wouldn't be the last. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, lieutenant."

  Long hastened to correct his faux pas. "No . . . no. Trust me when I tell you that I'm not in the least bit disappointed, Miss St. John. In fact, the truth of your identity is a delightful surprise."

  "Why, thank you." She turned her charms on him, yet even as he melted before her flirtatious look, she sensed something very oily about the man. She didn't know why she didn't like him. She just didn't. She was beginning to respect Charles Brennan's opinion more and more. "Charles has been telling us all about you and the fort. The Territory is so fascinating."

  "I'm glad you think so. Please, come into the office." He gestured everyone inside.

  Sheri and Maureen led the way as Charles spoke to the lieutenant.

  "Is Brand at the fort?"

  "Yes, he just got back yesterday from scouting with O'Toole."

  "I'll go find him. Miss St. John's very eager to meet him."

  "Later," Long said in terse tones. "There's no rush. Why don't you come inside and join us? The breed's not going anywhere, and I'd like to take the opportunity to show Miss St. John around a bit before we bring him into it."

  Charles stared at the officer coldly. "She made the trip to meet Brand."

  "And she will. In time. Come, let's go inside and relax, perhaps hav
e a drink. I'll send word to Colonel Hancock and Captain Whitmore that you're here, so introductions can be made."

  Charles relented, but he resented the lieutenant's taking charge of Sheri and Maureen this way. Knowing Long as he did, he was beginning to wonder just how much time Sheri would actually have with the scout.

  When they were seated in the office, Sheri was the first to speak.

  "Tell me, Lieutenant Long, when can I meet Brand? I'm anxious to get started on my interview with him."

  "We'll send for him shortly," he answered evasively. "For now, relax and enjoy a cool drink. Your trip from town must have been a hot one."

  "It wasn't too bad. I was so eager to get here that I hardly noticed."

  "We've chaperoned Miss St. John and Miss Cleaver all the way from Washington, D.C.," Fred Wallace said, "and, I can tell you, Miss St. John has thought of nothing else but meeting your scout since the beginning."

  "It's good to know that you're excited about joining us here at Fort McDowell. I take it this is your first trip west?"

  "Yes, and I'm loving every minute of it."

  "It's certainly a far cry from New York City."

  "And that's precisely why I'm here. I wanted to experience the wild West for myself. I want to know exactly what my characters are seeing and feeling when I write about it."

  "Then it will be my pleasure to assist you in any way I can," Long said ingratiatingly.

  "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, and right now, the only thing I want to do is to meet Brand. Charles has told me all about him, and I think it's time I met him face-to-face."

  "I'll go find him," Charles offered, heading out the door without waiting for Long's approval. As he stepped outside, he met Colonel Hancock, the commander of the fort, and Captain Whitmore.

  "Brennan, what brings you to McDowell?" Whitmore asked.

  "Sheridan St. John has arrived, sir, and I came along on the trip to help with the introductions. I'm on my way to find Brand now."

  "I saw him a short time ago by the corral, working with the horses,'' the captain offered.

  "I'll look there first."

  Brand was never particularly glad when they returned to the fort from scouting. His life was tracking renegades, and he felt at loose ends and bored when they came back from a trek. The search they'd returned from yesterday had been frustrating. There had been no sign of the Apache who had been raiding nearby. He knew they were out there. He just hadn't found them yet. But he would.

  He had just finished working his horse when he glanced up to see Charles Brennan coming toward him. He wondered what had brought the newspaper reporter out to the fort.

  "Brennan, why are you here?"

  "I've got news for you. Sheridan St. John's arrived and is waiting in Lieutenant Long's office to meet you."

  "Tell them I'll be right there." Inwardly he grimaced, but he revealed nothing of what he was feeling as Charles walked away.

  Brand was not looking forward to this encounter. His feelings hadn't changed since he and O'Toole had learned of the writer's imminent arrival the day before. He had little use for this St. John person and would be glad when the whole ordeal was over. He and O'Toole had already discussed what should be done, and they'd agreed that they would be cordial, but offer no unnecessary information. If they had to, they would take St. John on a short, staged 'scout', then return to the fort as quickly as possible so the man could be on his way. They both realized that Lieutenant Long was enamored of the idea of finding himself immortalized in print, but neither of them harbored any such fantasy. They only wanted the aggravation of someone from back East disrupting their lives to be over as quickly and painlessly as possible, so they could get on with what they did besthunt renegades.

  Brand finished working with his horse and followed Charles toward the office. He crossed the parade ground, lost in thought.

  When he reached the office, Hancock and Whitmore were on their way out.

  "Brand, we expect your full cooperation in this venture. Do you understand?" Nelson Hancock said.

  "I understand," he answered. He and Hancock had managed to get along while Becky was alive, but since her death they'd had little to do with each other.

  "We're counting on you," Whitmore added as they moved off.

  Brand went inside to find Charles standing with the lieutenant, an elderly man, and three women. He immediately assumed that the man was St. John.

  "Ah, Brand, you're here." Long said with artificial enthusiasm. "Sheridan St. John has been looking forward to meeting you."

  Brand turned toward the man and eyed him skeptically, wondering why the lieutenant was so taken with this whole idea. "Mr. St. John," he said with a slight nod.

  Fred smiled at his misunderstanding. "No, I'm afraid I'm not Sheridan's father. I'm Fred Wallace. This is Sheridan St. John." He gestured toward Sheri.

  Brand frowned as he turned to find himself face-to-face with the same green-eyed beauty he'd seen getting off the stage in town the day before.

  Chapter Four

  Brand, the Half-Breed Scout, or Trail of the Renegade

  The Confrontation

  "No!" Rachel screamed as she was dragged from the stage.

  Painful hands pawed at her, tearing her clothing and yanking her hair free from its neat constraint. Cruel laughter surrounded her. The warriors were speaking, but in a guttural tongue that she didn't understand. She cast a desperate glance around, praying for rescue, but saw only cacti and Joshua trees and miles of endless desert. She fought to break free, frantic to avoid their violating touch, but to no avail.

  A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, and Rachel looked over to see Jenny collapsing to the ground. Her clothing was half-ripped from her body and Mercy was fighting desperately to save her. Mercy was dragged off by another warrior, leaving a lone, grinning, evil-looking renegade, his eyes shining with feral hunger, standing over Jenny.

  The warrior who was leading the raid claimed Rachel as his prize. She continued to fight him, but he only laughed at her efforts as he picked her up and threw her, face down, over the back of his horse. He mounted behind her and rode quickly from the scene. Rachel did not know what had happened to her friends, and she worried about them as she was taken away to whatever horrid fate awaited her.

  The rest of the raiding party hurried to strip the stage of all valuables. That done, they rode from the site of the attack, victorious. They had taken captives, whiskey, and gold. There would be great stories to tell around the campfire that night. . . .

  "Hello," Sheri said as a shiver of anticipation went up her spine. Brand was the blue-eyed scout she'd seen in town, and up close, he was an even more magnificent specimen of manhood. Dressed in a loose-fitting shirt, buckskin breeches, and moccasins that laced to his knees, he was every inch the untamed scout she'd imagined him to be and more. She knew instantly that he was the man who was going to save her career.

  Brand had thought it was going to be difficult enough dealing with the writer when he'd believed St. John to be a man, but now . . . Sheridan St. John was a womanthe same one he'd seen descending from the stage in town! His gaze raked over her insolently, missing nothing. She was beautiful, there was no denying that, and he felt a stirring of pure animal attraction for her, but he quickly dismissed it. She was an Eastern miss, a lady who didn't know one end of a horse from the other. She had no business being there. His job was to track renegades, not to cater to spoiled females who happened to have friends in high places in Washington. He was going to look forward to putting her on a stage heading back east.

  The look in his eyes was cold as he addressed her. "Miss St. John."

  Sheri saw the iciness in his regard and realized that Charles had been right in cautioning her about the reception she was going to receive. Brand wasn't pleased to see her. Still, she wasn't about to give up. She hadn't traveled all this way for nothing. She was going to write this story with or without his help. But she really hoped he would help her. There was so much she had
to learn.

  "I've been looking forward to meeting you. It isn't often that I get to meet a real live hero."

  "What can I do for you?" he asked, ignoring her remark. He knew he was expected to cooperate. He would do it, but he didn't have to like it.

  "Well, first, I'd like to interview you at length. I need to learn everything there is to know about you and scouting." Sheri's mind was racing as she imagined Brand walking through the pages of her book. He was going to be magnificentfighting, winning, rescuing damsels in distress. This was going to be one fantastic book! She couldn't wait to see Caroll and Condon's reaction to the manuscript when she sent it in.

  "Why?" Brand's tone was terse.

  "It's important I find out everything I can about you so I can make your character more realistic in the book. My plan is for you to be the continuing hero in a series of novels about the Territory. I thought I could title the first one Brand, the Half-Breed Scout. or Trail of the Renegade. Just think! There will be books about you everywhere."

  "Miss St. John, why did you think I'd care about any of this?"

  Lieutenant Long cleared his throat as he cast a quick, irritated look at Brand. He wondered if the man had forgotten that he was supposed to cooperate in this venture.

  Sheri was stunned by the harshness in his voice. Then she realized that this was a man who'd been through hell and who no doubt relived it every time he went out to track down murderous renegades. What she did for a living probably seemed ridiculously frivolous to him. "Mr. Brand . . ."

  "No 'mister', just Brand."

  "Brand," she began again, steeling herself against the nervousness she was feeling. "I'm very serious about my work. That's why I'm here. I could have written your story without ever leaving New York City, but I wanted the book to be realistic. I want this novel to be special, and to do that, I need your help."

  He glanced toward Lieutenant Long and, seeing the officer's expression, realized there was no escaping the situation. "What exactly did you want to do?"

  "As I said, we need to talk. I want to learn your routine, what your average day is like, what riding on a scout is like." She hastened to reassure him even more. "I am more than willing to do whatever you think is necessary to get this story."