Renegade's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  "He's not a bad person," Maureen pointed out. "He's just . . ."

  "Egotistical?"

  "Yes."

  "Arrogant?"

  "Yes."

  "Condescending?"

  "Yes, and more."

  "Exactly," Sheri agreed. "I'll just have to be nice and make sure I thank him graciously for everything he's done. Then we can leave here as quickly as possible."

  "What about Brand?"

  "What about him?"

  "Have you thought about what you're going to say to him when you see him again?"

  "I don't know if I will see him again."

  "I'm sure you will. You can't leave the Territory without saying good-bye to the man who saved your life."

  "I suppose."

  Sheri tried to sound indifferent, but Maureen knew better. "If you don't tell him good-bye yourself, I'll find him for you and make you talk to him. He's the hero of your new series of books. You ought to part as friends."

  "All right," she agreed. "But we'll worry about that later."

  A knock at the door interrupted them, and Maureen opened it to find Philip waiting there.

  "Good morning," she greeted him. "Sheri's all ready to go."

  Sheri appeared behind her. "Hello, Philip."

  His gaze was warm upon her. She was wearing a fashionable day gown and looked quite the lady. "You look lovely this morning."

  "Why, thank you." She laughed lightly. "It's certainly an improvement over the last time you saw me, that's for sure."

  "You will never look better to me than you did last night when I saw that you were alive and well," he said earnestly.

  "I must admit, I was very glad to see you, too. Maureen, I'll see you a little later."

  "Would you care to join us?" Philip offered, less than enthusiastically.

  "No, but thank you for the invitation. I have a few things to take care of here." She didn't really, but anything would be better than putting up with him for a few hours. Sheri could go alone and enjoy herself. Maureen was sure that when her cousin returned, she would really be looking forward to seeing Brand again. The thought brought a smile to her face. "Have a good breakfast."

  Philip offered her his arm, and he escorted her to the dining hall.

  Sheri was greeted by the others who were eating, and then Philip directed her to a table off to one side, so they could speak quietly.

  "So, how does it feel to be back in civilization?" he asked, once they'd settled in.

  "It feels marvelous. I never dreamed life could be so harsh, but I really learned a lot. You soldiers certainly earn your pay."

  "It's not an easy job, but there are rewards. . . ."

  She looked up at him questioningly.

  "Like meeting you," he said with a smile. "It has indeed been a pleasure. I'm looking forward to the book. Have you been able to write at all?"

  "Oh, yes. I've gotten a few pages done here and there. Mostly, though, I've been taking notes on everything that's happened so I won't forget anything once we head back home."

  "And when will that be?"

  "Maureen and I had talked about traveling back to Phoenix tomorrow and staying there a few days to get an accurate look at living in a Western town."

  "So soon?" It distressed him to think that she would be leaving that quickly.

  "I do need to get the book written, and I can best do that back home. Will there be a stage tomorrow?"

  "Yes, there's one at midday. I had spoken with Cecelia about having another party for you tonight in celebration of the fact that you're safely back. But now, it seems, well have to make it a going-away party."

  "That's so sweet of you. It would be wonderful to visit with everybody again before we have to go."

  "We'll plan on it, then. Shall I call for you and Maureen at, say, seven o'clock?"

  "That would be wonderful, thank you."

  Maureen couldn't imagine who was knocking on her door so soon after Sheri had left with Philip. She had had her morning planned: As soon as she finished eating breakfast, she was going over to the hospital to visit with Charles and make sure he was all right. But now, it looked as if her plans were already being changed.

  "Yes?" She opened the door to come face-to-face with Charles. He was up and fully dressed, and though still a bit pale from his ordeal, he looked quite fit. "Good morning," she said sweetly, her mood of agitation immediately disappearing at the sight of him. ''You're better . . ."

  "Much," he answered. Then, glancing past her and seeing no one around, he added, "Now that I'm with you."

  "I was planning to come to the hospital and see you in just a little while." Maureen smiled up at him. "Would you like to come in?"

  "It's hardly proper, Miss Cleaver," he reminded her. "It might cause gossip."

  "What can we do about that?" she teased.

  "Nothing, I'm afraid. It's one thing for you to flout convention and visit me in the hospital. It's another for you, as an unmarried woman, to have me in your home unchaperoned."

  "But I was hoping you'd come to collect your winnings," she said flirtatiously, looking up at him with open longing.

  Charles bit back a groan that had nothing to do with pain from his injuries. "There is nothing I'd like more than to claim what is owed me, but I must protect your reputation above all else. Would you care to take a walk with me?"

  "Are you strong enough?" She was still worried about him, though obviously, he had to be recovering or the doctor would not have let him go.

  "Absolutely."

  "Then there is no one I would rather walk with than you, sir."

  She closed the door behind her, and together they strolled around the grounds.

  "Sheri and I are planning on leaving the fort tomorrow and spending some time in Phoenix before we head back home."

  "You're going home soon?"

  "In a few days. I know there are still some things she wants to learn about in town."

  "I'll be glad to show you around."

  "I'd like that." She lifted her gaze to his.

  "Whatever you need, just let me know." Charles stared down at Maureen, thinking of how lovely she looked and how much he was going to miss her when she was gone. She was a delightful companion, witty and intelligent, soft-spoken yet articulate. She was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman, and . . .

  The realization struck him like a lightning bolt, mentally staggering him. He had only known her a few days. Granted, they'd been some of the wildest days of his life, but just in that short span of time, Charles knew that he had fallen in love. The idea was so new to him that he said nothing, wanting to take time to analyze it and understand it before he declared himself. But he did care for this woman, and he hadn't even kissed her yet. That was something he was going to have to remedy very soon.

  "Is something wrong?" Maureen noticed his strange expression, a rather bemused one, and wondered at it.

  "No . . . no . . . Everything's fine." He quickly changed the conversation as they continued on their walk.

  As Sheri allowed Philip to escort her back to her quarters, she kept a lookout for Brand, but could see no sign of him. It didn't surprise her. From the way things had ended between them the day before, she was afraid now that she would never see him again. Later, once Philip was gone, she was going to look for him. If for no other reason than just to thank him for his help and to tell him that she would be leaving the following day.

  "I'll speak with Cecelia and tell her of your plans. Then I'll be back for you this evening."

  "That will be fine. I'll look forward to seeing you then."

  She waited a few strategic moments until he'd gone, then left to seek out Brand. Her efforts proved futile, though. Finally she saw Sergeant O'Toole and went to speak to him.

  "I was hoping to speak to Brand today, sergeant. Is he around?"

  "No, ma'am. He rode out early this morning, and I don't expect him back for some time." At her fleeting look of disappointment, he quickly asked, "Is there anything
I can do to help you?"

  "No, but thanks. I just wanted to talk to him again. Maureen and I will be heading back to Phoenix tomorrow, and I wanted to thank him for all his help."

  "I'll relay the message when I see him, but I'm not sure when hell be back. As a scout, he can come and go pretty much as he pleases, unless the captain needs him."

  "Well, thank you for all your help. It was wonderful getting to know you."

  "It was my pleasure, I hope your book turns out great."

  She smiled at him. "It will. How can it not, when I had all your help?"

  They shared a warm look of respect, and she returned to her quarters. She wondered if she would ever see Brand again.

  Chapter Twelve

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

  A Conflict of the Heart

  Brand helped the two women onto his horse and led the animal over the treacherous, mountainous terrain. Several times in the dark of the night, he stopped to listen. His instincts were telling him that all was not as it seemed, but he could detect no one near. He started forward on again, cautiously, anxiously, eager to be away from the area.

  And then it happened. . . .

  Two braves who'd discovered that Rachel and Mercy were missing had given chase. They spotted Brand as he started up a steep incline leading the horse. One tried to shoot him, but in his drunken stupor, he missed. The other drunken warrior drew his knife and charged, ready to kill Brand and reclaim his white captives.

  The first shot alerted Brand to their presence, and he'd just started to turn around when he heard Rachel yell.

  "Look out!"

  The other warrior threw himself upon the scout, trying to slit his throat as his friend rushed to join the battle.

  Rachel grabbed Brand's rifle from its sheath as she dismounted.

  "Get out of here now, Mercy!" she ordered.

  "But . . ."

  "Go!"

  Rachel slapped the horse hard, and as the other woman galloped away, she turned on the two attackers who were trying to kill Brand. She had fired a gun only occasionally in her life, but tonight it didn't matter. If she didn't help Brand, he would be dead.

  She held the heavy weapon to her shoulder and aimed point-blank at the warrior who was running to help his friend. She squeezed the trigger, knowing this was a matter of life and death. . . .

  The ladies of the fort were not quite sure what to make of all that had happened. They were attending the party that evening because they were pleased that the two visiting women were safe. However, they still had serious reservations about the state of Sheridan St. John's reputation after two nights and three days alone in the wild with the half-breed. They stood in one corner of the room watching Sheri as she made the rounds, speaking with everyone while Philip hovered solicitously over her.

  "Miss St. John certainly seems to have weathered her adventure quite well. She looks lovely tonight."

  "I don't know, Cecelia," Dora Lawson said snidely. "How can she even hold her head up? I mean she slept with that . . . that man! How could she stand it?"

  "I hope you mean 'slept' with and nothing more, Dora," Laura Walker put in sternly. "She appears unharmed, and she has certainly been singing Brand's praises ever since they got back. He did save her life, you know. I think you're being quite catty and tasteless with what you're implying."

  Dora looked huffy. "I'm just commenting as any good-living person would."

  "Are you saying, because renegades attacked their party, she's no longer a good woman?"

  "I'm merely saying that she should, perhaps, be a little more reserved in her celebrations, that's all. God only knows what happened to her during that time with him."

  "I assure you, she knows and so does he, and neither of them is talking. So why don't you just be kind and believe that he was a gentleman and did protect her virtue and her honor?"

  "The breed was a gentleman?" Dora exclaimed in low, outraged tones. "Don't you think that's asking a bit too much?"

  "You're impossible."

  "No, I'm realistic. She just spent two nights alone with a man who's more Indian than white."

  "Dora!"

  "It's true! Don't you ever look at him? He dresses like an Indian and he acts like one, too!"

  "In case you've forgotten, he was married to the colonel's daughter. He is not a heathen."

  "So you say," she replied in a huff. "We shall see. I say she's leaving the fort so soon because she's afraid we'll all figure out what really happened while they were alone out there. Face it, ladies, if it had been one of your daughters who was lost in the wilds with him, you'd be reacting quite differently."

  "You're right, Dora, but it wasn't one of our daughters. Miss St. John chose to go of her own accord. It was her decision. She alone will live with the consequences."

  "Her 'adventure', as you call it, doesn't seem to have affected Philip's regard for her. He still seems quite taken with herin spite of everything," Laura pointed out.

  "I think Philip is most taken with the thought of seeing himself as a hero in one of her books," Dora said knowingly. "You know how highly he regards himself."

  The other two women laughed lightly.

  "I think you're right about that."

  "Then we do agree on something tonight?"

  "We do."

  Sheri was enjoying the party more than she'd thought she would. She kept watching for Brand, though, and there had been no sign of him. It distressed her to think that she would leave the fort and never get to see him again. If nothing else, she did want to tell him good-bye and thank him once more for saving her.

  "Good evening, Cecelia. Dora. Hello, Laura," Sheri greeted the women as she came to speak with them. "Thank you for the party tonight. It's wonderful to see everyone again."

  "What's wonderful is that you're back, safe and sound."

  "I know," Sheri said with a smile. "No one's happier about that than I am. It was an adventure."

  The ladies shared a private knowing look at her use of the word.

  "I'll say," Dora said primly. "How did you manage, my dear? I doubt I would have lived through it."

  "It was difficult and frightening at times, but with Brand there, I knew everything was going to be all right."

  "Yes . . . Brand . . ." The disapproval was plain in Dora's voice. "I still don't know how you slept, knowing the breed was right there next to you. . . ."

  Sheri glanced at the portly, gray-haired matron, taken aback by her venom. "I wouldn't have slept at all, if 'the breed', as you call him, hadn't been there beside me. I would have been dead."

  "I just wouldn't say that too loudly, if I were you."

  "Say what too loudly?" She couldn't imagine what this vicious little woman was getting at.

  "About sleeping with him, dear. Your reputation, you know . . ."

  "My reputation? My reputation is just fine. I'm alive and well thanks to Brand's bravery."

  "If you say so."

  "I do." Fire flared in her eyes as she regarded the women. "Brand is a wonderful scout and a good man. There aren't many like him. I respect and admire him. He deserves no less."

  "I'm sure you're right, Sheri," Cecelia interjected, wanting to calm the discussion. "Dora was just concerned about you, that's all."

  Sheri doubted that. She knew better. She'd dealt with small-minded women like Dora all her life, and she didn't have time to waste on them anymore. She was barely in control of her temper as she said, "I appreciate your concern, but there's really no need for any of you to be worried. Brand is an honorable man, and I trust him implicitly."

  "Of course, my dear," all three women quickly responded.

  "If you'll excuse me?"

  With that, Sheri turned her back on them and walked way. She was furious with them for their small-minded ways, but she knew she shouldn't have been so surprised by it. She'd been dealing with this kind of thing from other women ever since she'd started her writing career.

  Their critici
sm of Brand, though, had really angered her, and she was glad she'd defended him. She now understood why he hadn't come to the party tonight. Why would he want to subject himself to people with that kind of attitude? Obviously, they were never going to let him forget that he had Apache blood in his veins, no matter how much they needed his talent for tracking when the time came.

  Sheri was glad to see that Philip was deep in conversation with one of the other officers. If he was distracted, it would be easy for her to slip away outside to get a breath of fresh airand to calm down.

  As she left the house and moved a short distance away from the lights, the night sky sparkled above her. She stared up at it, remembering her desire to spend a night camping out to get the real flavor of a scout. She'd gotten her wish all right, and then some.

  Her smile was sad, and she walked a little farther, wanting to separate herself from the ugliness she'd just experienced inside. She had wanted to enjoy this last night at the fort, not spend it worrying over what everyone was saying about her and Brand.

  Sheri never knew what it was that drew her attention across the parade ground, but she found herself staring into the shadows at the barely visible image of the man who stood there. She didn't speak but walked toward him, knowing it was Brand even before she could clearly see him.

  "It's a pretty night out," she said softly as she came to stand before him. She gazed up at him, studying his chiseled features, softened now in the moonlight. He was handsome, magnificently so, and she could sense the barely leashed power in him. Yet his expression was shuttered, revealing no emotion. She couldn't tell whether he was glad to see her or not. "You like being outside better than being at a party?"

  "Don't you?" he countered.

  "Tonight, yes." She tried to forget how angry she'd just been with the narrow-minded women. "How's your arm?"

  "It was only a scratch." He did not want her concern.

  "Well, anyway, I'm glad I found you. I wanted to tell you good-bye and thank you again for all you did for me. You were a great help."

  "You're leaving." It was a flat statement.

  "Tomorrow. Maureen and I are going into Phoenix. We're planning to stay there for a few days and take a look around town. Then we'll be heading back to New York.''