Gabrielle darted into the nearest alley…

No matter what, she wasn’t going to allow the hard-hearted Ranger to recognize her. Unfortunately, Captain Stone crossed the street, eating up the ground with his long swift strides.

“So we meet again,” he murmured as he halted in front of her. Bri refused to speak for fear he would recognize her voice.

Suddenly she saw her fiancé ambling down the boardwalk. If Eaton spotted her in her gray gown, he would spoil her charade. Bri latched on to Hudson, clamped her mouth over his, and pulled him deeper into the alley.

To her dismay, the same sensations that had assailed her the previous night spilled over her again. Hudson’s tantalizing scent, his taste and the feel of his muscular body pressed against her swept Bri into a dizzying universe that defied logical explanation. Hud clamped his hands on her hips, pressing her against his thighs, making her vividly aware of his masculine response. Then his hand glided up to brush the side of her breast, and another flame of desire scorched her….

Texas Ranger, Runaway Heiress

Harlequin®Historical

MILLS & BOON

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Praise for Carol Finch

“Carol Finch is known for her lightning-fast, roller-coaster-ride adventure romances that are brimming over with a large cast of characters and dozens of perilous escapades.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

McCavett’s Bride

“For wild adventures, humor and western atmosphere, Finch can’t be beat. She fires off her quick-paced novels with the crack of a rifle and creates the atmosphere of the Wild West through laugh-out-loud dialogue and escapades that keep you smiling.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

The Ranger’s Woman

“Finch delivers her signature humor, along with a big dose of colorful Texas history, in a love and laughter romp.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

Lone Wolf’s Woman

“As always, Finch provides frying-pan-into-the-fire action that keeps the pages flying, then spices up her story with not one, but two romances, sensuality and strong emotions.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

CAROL FINCH
Texas Ranger, Runaway Heiress

Available from Harlequin®Historical and CAROL FINCH

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This book is dedicated to my husband, Ed, and our children Jill, Jon, Christie, Durk, Shawnna and Kurt. And to our grandchildren, Livia, Harleigh, Blake, Kennedy, Dillon and Brooklynn. With much love.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter One

Middle of Nowhere, Texas

Late 1870s

Captain Hudson Stone waited impatiently for Texas Ranger Commander Winston Price to finish his conference with Hud’s battalion leader. Winston Price had arrived in camp two days earlier to inspect the troops and assess the situation in West Texas—which had become a breeding ground for trouble the past few months.

When Major John Ketter exited the tent, wearing a carefully blank stare, Hud didn’t know what to expect or why the Ranger commander had singled him out. Hud ducked under the tent flap then nodded a greeting to Commander Price, whose alert brown eyes made a quick inspection of Hud’s tattered attire and the week’s growth of whiskers that he had been too busy to shave.

The commander sank onto the edge of his cot to stretch out his long legs. The former military officer had served, as Hud had, in the Confederate Army. Winston Price was beginning to show his age, although he still was in reasonably good physical condition. He was in his late forties and sported a thick crop of reddish brown hair. A thin mustache and goatee accentuated the commanding features of his face.

“Nice to see you again, Captain Stone.”

“What can I do for you, sir?” Hud was in no mood for idle chitchat. He wanted to be done with this impromptu meeting so he could mount up and focus on his quest to track down a ruthless killer known as Mad Joe Jarvis.

“Your battalion seems to be working effectively in this area, all things considered,” Winston commented as he braced his arms on the cot.

“We have a dedicated troop of Rangers who are trying to keep the lid on this area. Unfortunately, it is becoming more difficult by the week.” Now get to the point, Hud mused impatiently.

“Major Ketter recommended you for the duty I require posthaste,” Winston said, surprising Hud. He reached for the pipe that sat on the crude nightstand then lit it up. “My daughter notified me unexpectedly that she wants to consult with me as soon as possible. Since the governor sent me out here to expect the battalions and report on the extent of the trouble we’ve had in this region I need you for immediate escort detail.”

“Escort detail?” Hud croaked, stunned. “But sir, I—”

Winston flung up his hand as he surged to his feet. Although Winston was six feet tall and sturdy in stature, he had to stare up at Hud, who towered at six foot three inches in his stocking feet and outweighed the commander by at least twenty pounds.

“I asked Major Ketter to recommend his best Ranger for the task and he says you’re it.”

“But I’m leading a search to apprehend the outlaw who killed Speck Horton.”

Just saying Speck’s name aloud sent a wave of grief and frustration pouring over Hud. He and Speck had served in the Confederate Army together and had come to Texas to make a new start. Speck was as close to family as Hud had. The need to avenge Speck’s death tormented his waking hours and haunted his sleep. He didn’t want to be waylaid by escort detail.

“I have been briefed on your search and I am very sorry for your loss.” Winston stared straight at Hud. “I think that might be the other reason Major Ketter recommended you for escort duty. He thinks your vendetta has become too personal and obsessive and that you need a diversion.”

Like hell I do! He didn’t want to play nursemaid to some prissy tenderfoot female who had no business tramping around in an area that was jumping alive with Indian renegades. Occasionally they sneaked from Indian Territory to express dissatisfaction with conditions on the reservations and their outrage over another of the federal government’s broken treaties. Not to mention the problems associated with the influx of white and Mexican outlaw gangs. Plus, ranchers were feuding over water rights, land titles and lease agreements on public lands.

Hud couldn’t imagine why Commander Price would allow his daughter to venture out here. Did the dainty female have her father wrapped around her finger? Price had commanded military troops and state Rangers with ease. Apparently he couldn’t say no to his daughter. And what, Hud would like to know, was so damn important that the princess couldn’t wait until her daddy returned to Austin next month to see her?

“Major Ketter has agreed to let you gather your gear and leave for Fort Griffin within the hour.” Winston paused to blow two lopsided smoke rings in the air. “I don’t want Gabrielle to linger at The Flat longer than necessary. You know what a rowdy place it is.”

Teeth clenched, hands fisted at his sides, Hud nodded his dark head. The Flat was the raucous community that had sprung up at the bottom of the hill below the military fort. Buffalo hunters hauled in their hides for transport by wagon to the Dodge City railhead, where they were shipped to tanneries and millineries in the East. Cattle drovers arrived in town and let off steam by drinking, carousing and firing their six-shooters in the streets before trailing their herds to Dodge City. In addition, card sharks, harlots and all sorts of desperadoes, eager to engage in shootings, knifings and brawls, filled saloons and gaming halls. In short, it was the devil’s playground. Certainly not the place for a sophisticated lady.

“Sir, I’m not telling you anything you don’t know already,” Hud remarked, “but not only is this area dangerous but The Flat is as close to hell as most folks prefer to get. Several men have been killed publicly in showdowns. Then there are the ones who have been strung up by vigilantes. Between the cold-eyed killers, crooked dealers at faro, monte and poker tables and the soldiers who trot down Government Hill to carouse when they’re off duty, that is no place for a dignified lady.”

Plus, Hud had better things to do with his time than pick up a spoiled brat and deliver her to her daddy. Hell! This was the most ridiculous duty anyone had requested of him.

“I am aware of The Flat’s reputation,” Winston acknowledged before he took another long draw on his pipe. “Which is why I want you to leave immediately. I don’t know precisely when Bri’s stagecoach is due to arrive at The Flat. Fortunately her new fiancé is accompanying her.”

Wonderful, now he had to babysit and escort two citified greenhorns across the rugged terrain of the outlaw-infested badlands. Damn it, this unexpected assignment kept getting worse by the minute.

“I will be leaving your battalion this afternoon to inspect another Ranger unit,” Winston reported. Frustration must have shown on Hud’s face because Winston smiled sympathetically and patted him on the shoulder. “I understand your need for revenge, son. I lost several dear friends in the war. But rest assured that you will be back in a few days to resume command of your manhunt. I will assume responsibility for my daughter while she’s here.”

That should be fun, Hud thought sourly. The other men would be bowing and scraping over her and she’d probably soak up the male attention like a sponge. Most likely one adoring fiancé and a doting father wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Miss La-Di-Da Gabrielle Price.

“Bri is a very unique individual,” Winston boasted.

Of course, Winston would say she was unique. He was her father. Either that or sweet little Bri was unique because she had an extra finger on each hand or eyes in the back of her head. Whatever the case, Hud considered her an inconvenience of gigantic proportions.

Winston smiled fondly as a halo of smoke drifted around his head. “As a child she tried to be the son I never had. I called her the little general.”

It took considerable effort for Hud to keep from rolling his eyes. He had a personal and professional crusade driving him. He had vowed to apprehend Speck Horton’s murderer and this ridiculous escort detail was a waste of his valuable time and considerable skills as a Ranger.

“Then Bri blossomed into a woman and men showed up at my doorstep, requesting her company when she came to visit me.”

Hud looked at Winston and tried to imagine his broad forehead and angular features plastered on a female. It was not a particularly appealing image.

He didn’t know for sure but he presumed by Winston’s comment that he and his wife didn’t share the same residence. He wondered if Bri played her mother against her father to get what she wanted. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit.

“Now Bri’s mother has earmarked a young politician for her match and given her stamp of approval. If Bri is coming to ask for my formal blessing then she will have it. If this is what she wants. Bring my daughter to me, safe and sound, Captain Stone.”

The commander’s solemn expression and forceful tone implied “or else…”

“I will never forget the favor. Plus, I will alert the other Ranger battalions I visit about your friend’s killer so they can provide information to aid in your search.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hud said begrudgingly.

Then he wheeled around so Commander Price couldn’t see his scowl. Hud didn’t want to be relieved of his duty of tracking a ruthless killer, just so the commander could have his daughter escorted to him for a formal approval of her politician fiancé.

Swearing a blue streak Hud stalked off to gather his gear, saddle his horse and rush off to Fort Griffin to protect the female who should’ve had more sense than to venture to the hellhole in the first place.

While Hud was in town, he might take time to single out one of the harlots and scratch an itch that had gone unattended for more months than he cared to count. He ought to get something pleasurable from this mandatory trip. For sure and certain, chaperoning a pampered princess, whose father could dishonorably discharge him from Ranger service for disobeying a direct order, could destroy his future plans.

Hud glanced into the distance as he crammed his belongings into his saddlebags. He and Speck Horton had planned to build a prosperous ranch on the land grant they were to receive in compensation for their service to the Rangers. Now Speck wouldn’t be around to help Hud make that dream come true.

Still scowling at the unexpected turn of events that interrupted his manhunt, Hud swung into the saddle, turned his back on Angel Mesa—the rugged caprock that dropped into a maze of canyons—and pointed himself toward Fort Griffin. Two hours later, he realized that he hadn’t bothered to ask the commander for a description of his daughter.

“How the hell am I supposed to know who she is or where to find her?” he asked Rambler, the sturdy black gelding he was riding. “Right.” He gave a caustic smirk. “She’ll be the one wearing a diamond-encrusted tiara and who has a wide forehead, straight brown hair and dark eyes like her father.”

Hud had yet to meet Gabrielle—or Bri, the pet name her father used. But he disliked her sight unseen.

Gabrielle Price squirmed restlessly on the hard stagecoach seat and listened to her unwanted fiancé drone his life story to the three male passengers traveling with them to Fort Griffin. She flung Eaton Powell II a disgruntled glance and wished him to be anywhere else but here with her. She hadn’t requested his company on this trip. Indeed, she wanted to come alone but Eaton had insisted on traveling with her. He’d spouted something about protecting her from unscrupulous characters and using the trip to campaign for his next venture as a U.S. Senator.

Bri knew Eaton’s wealthy family had bought him votes to get him elected into Austin’s politics. She couldn’t imagine how many voters he thought he could contact at The Flat and the fort. The community wasn’t known for being public- or civic-minded. But Eaton claimed he wanted to branch out and locate other donors who might fund his campaign.

She wondered if his family had finally objected to his excessive habit of throwing around money and ordered him to find someone else to fund his campaign expenses and his extravagant spending.

Whatever the ulterior reason, Eaton had tagged along, much to her chagrin. She had been stuck on the train and then in a crowded stagecoach with him. So much for this spur-of-the-moment trip that was supposed to take her far away from Eaton.

“My father and brother are bankers in Austin,” Eaton was telling the other passengers when Bri got around to listening. “But I am more interested in serving my state and nation and becoming a spokesman for the common man.”

Bri knew Eaton had no real interest in serving anyone anywhere. His priority was his own ambition.

She turned her head and smirked while Eaton preened and passed around his manufactured smile. He smoothed his dark brown hair into place with an exaggerated gesture of his hand, and called attention to the gaudy rings that sparkled on his long fingers.

Spokesman for the common man? That was laughable. Not only was Eaton an elitist but he was also an exceptional performer. He could tell a convincing story, make all the right noises and sound sincere when the mood suited him. But mostly he was full of hot air and he bored Bri to tears.

She had observed him at his best, worst and all moods in between and had found nothing endearing or appealing about him. Furthermore, she wasn’t naive enough to think he felt any fond affection for her. No, it was her mother’s prestigious family name of Roland and their vast wealth that attracted Eaton. Bri’s mother and Eaton’s aunt hailed from what polite society referred to as two of the “first families” in Texas. They had been lifelong friends and they had machinated this betrothal to promote Eaton’s rise to political stardom.

Essentially Bri was the feather in Eaton’s cap, the merging of one well-heeled family to another. If Bri’s mother had her way—and she did entirely too often—her daughter would become the extension of her own life. A life that hadn’t turned out the way she’d wanted.

Mother is not going to get her way in this instance, Bri promised herself resolutely. At twenty-three, Bri was old enough to make her own decisions and accept an engagement proposal, if and when she wanted to. She had to convince her father to side with her and to stand against his estranged wife. Besides, Bri couldn’t possibly plan a wedding while she was accompanying her father on his inspection of Ranger battalions in West Texas, now could she?

The thought of a grand adventure in the great outdoors filled Bri with excitement and anticipation. She thrilled at the prospect of leaving behind polite society and its obsessive preoccupation with her unusual interests and activities.

Bri stared across the countryside, marveling at the broad river valley flanked by rolling hills that were covered with mesquite and oak trees. Pecans and elms lined the creeks that tumbled into the river. Nothing would please her more than to rent a horse and explore this scenic wilderness.

“Tell me, gentleman, what are your opinions of the large ranchers who are objecting to our government’s insistence that they pay rent on the public lands where their cattle and horse herds are grazing without restriction?” Eaton asked.

Bri wanted to express her view about bullying cattle barons. They objected to small ranchers nesting near their domain and using water sources and rangeland that had been designated for public use. Of course, Eaton didn’t want her to have an opinion on anything. She was supposed to be window dressing for the upstart politician.

She tuned out Eaton, who had interrupted one of the passengers to express his opinion of favoring large ranchers over nesters. Instead, she poked her head out the window to survey The Flat. It was rumored to be one of the four wildest towns in the West. The community was a cultural paradox that not only boasted upstanding storeowners and farmers, but also harbored outlaws, harlots and gamblers.

It looked as if The Flat did indeed have a motley frontier population, she noted as she studied the individuals who were striding down the boardwalks. The place had sprung up at the base of Government Hill and the streets were lined with dozens of businesses. She spotted two freight offices, a large general store, three cafés, a telegraph office and a newspaper office. She also noticed two banks, a theater, gaming halls, saloons, a livery stable and a row of bordellos that seemed to be doing a thriving business an hour before sundown. Bri could only imagine how prosperous the dens of ill repute became after dark, when more of their potential clients were off work and on the prowl.

Bri perked up when she noticed the sign announcing the last performance of a traveling repertory company. Several men and woman milled around the redbrick theater, singing ditties and sporting costumes and props to entice attendance. The actors drew considerable attention, Eaton’s included. He came to point like a hunting dog when he spotted four young women flitting around in tight-fitting costumes.

Womanizer, she mused as she watched Eaton’s hawkish gaze rove over each woman’s physique.

Here was yet another reason Bri refused to spend her life shackled to this blowhard politician whose sexual appetite was whispered about in drawing rooms. Bri knew loyalty and fidelity weren’t among Eaton’s virtues—if in fact, he had any at all. She couldn’t think of one off the top of her head. But then he’d been getting on her nerves all day so it was hard to think past his annoying faults to find his redeeming qualities.

As the stagecoach halted beside the clapboard depot, Bri caught a whiff of a foul odor. She glanced sideways to see the oversized piles of buffalo skins and the unkempt men who wandered around the hide yard that sat on the edge of town.

“Ah, here we are,” Eaton said unnecessarily. He leaned close to add, “Honestly, Gabrielle, why must you wear these plain traveling clothes? You look like a sodbuster’s wife, not a future senator’s fiancée. You can afford to dress like a princess and you should.”

“I have no intention of soiling my best clothes in dusty stagecoaches. I don’t believe in flaunting family money,” she declared.

His gaze narrowed reproachfully. “I must remind you that your unfashionable appearance reflects badly on me. We are in the public eye because I’m running for office. You need to dress the part and keep up appearances for my sake.”

She cocked her head at him then stared pointedly at the three shabbily dressed men who climbed down from the coach. “I thought you wanted to represent the common man.”

“Represent them, yes. Become one of them? Hardly, my dear.” He flicked his wrist, urging her to step out of the coach by herself so he could make his grand entrance into the street. “Please find something flashy to complement my wardrobe before you venture out this evening.”

Grateful to escape the narrow confines of the coach—and Eaton—Bri practically launched herself through the door.

Glancing this way and that, Bri sought out a hotel that offered adequate accommodations. She noticed an establishment above a run-down saloon, but it didn’t appeal to her. Neither did the foul-smelling stack of hides close by. She intended to stay upwind of hide hunters and their pungent bounty.

The moment the driver handed down her two satchels, she hiked toward Brazos Hotel, which sat at the opposite end of town. The sound of tinkling piano music and boisterous laughter that wafted from the string of saloons was a welcome change from the tiresome sound of Eaton’s voice and his haughty criticism. Bri couldn’t wait to ensconce herself in a private room and relax.

“Slow down, my dear!” Eaton called out as he snatched up his four suitcases and clatted after her.

Bri glanced over her shoulder in time to see Eaton nod a flirtatious greeting to one of the thespians who all but floated across the street to greet him. It was lust at first sight for Eaton and the red-haired actress, she decided. She shook her head at the ridiculousness of the public flirtation playing out on the boardwalk. The voluptuous actress, with pouty lips and luminous green eyes, was welcome to Eaton. And vice versa. Bri didn’t want him. Never had.

One of the main objectives of her journey was to disengage herself from Eaton. Another was to enjoy the freedom and independence her mother constantly tried to stifle. Despite her mother’s browbeating efforts, Bri refused to be no more than a social hostess and devoted politician’s wife.

When the redhead twirled gracefully in front of Eaton, who had halted to watch her leap through the air like a ballerina, Bri smiled in amusement. Eaton’s arrogance was astonishing. He seemed to have no idea that she could see right through him and tell what he was thinking while he visually undressed the actress. She would be outraged if she had the slightest interest in the boorish dandy.

Her stomach growled as she hiked past one of the cafés. There would time for food later, she promised herself. First, she wanted to wash away the trail dust and relax in the privacy of her room.

Leaving Eaton to ogle the actress—and her friends, who gathered around to promote their farewell performance—Bri scurried into Brazos Hotel to request a room. She dug in to her purse to pay for her accommodations then trudged up the steps.

She expelled a gigantic sigh when she closed the door behind her and appraised her modestly furnished room. She was never so glad to be anywhere in her life! She could tend to the business of hiring a guide to accompany her to the Ranger camp, where her father was inspecting troops. Even better if her father had received her message in time to send someone to fetch her.

Mercy, it had been too long since she had seen her father. Almost six months, in fact, she mused as she shed her dusty calico gown and changed into a drab gray dress, floppy-brimmed bonnet and shawl that downplayed her feminine physique. She was counting on her father to become her champion against her mother’s unreasonable demands and expectations. He understood her restless spirit, her need for adventure and excitement. She was her father’s daughter, not her mother’s senseless puppet.

A fond smile pursed Bri’s lips as she pulled her bonnet low on her forehead to conceal her facial features. She loved her father dearly and respected him greatly. He didn’t lounge in an office at the state capitol. He personally inspected the troops and assessed the situation in the wilderness to ensure the Ranger battalions had enough manpower and supplies to keep the frontier safe. Winston Price was also feeding his adventurous soul. If he didn’t remember that Bri was the proverbial chip off the block, she vowed to remind him.

It was dark when Hud arrived in The Flat. His first order of business was to lead Rambler to the livery stable and brush him down thoroughly. In his line of work, a man was only as good as his horse. Hud made certain Rambler received full rations and the best of care.

He glanced down the street and told himself he should be enthusiastic about being back in society—if you could call this collection of misfits in The Flat society. He stared down the dimly lit street, noting the gathering crowds and hearing boisterous laughter wafting from a nearby gaming hall. There were all sorts of entertainment to be had. Ironically, all Hud wanted was a bath and a few minutes to stretch out on a real bed for the first time in months.

Assured that his horse was in capable hands, Hud strode off to find comfortable accommodations for himself. He pulled up short when a woman in a frilly costume pirouetted in front of him then leaped through the air.

“We’ll be giving our last performance tonight before continuing our tour to Fort Elliot, Tascosa and Mobeetie,” she announced as she circled around him and waved a perfume-scented scarf under his nose. “Come join us, handsome.”

Handsome? Hud inwardly scoffed as the woman flitted off to entice another passerby on the boardwalk. He didn’t consider himself anywhere near handsome. Whiskers lined his jaw. The bags under his eyes testified to his lack of sleep and too damn much time in the saddle.

Thanks to Commander Price, Hud had set a swift pace to reach Fort Griffin to look up Gabrielle and play nursemaid and tour guide.

Scowling, Hud veered into Brazos Hotel to rent a room. After requesting heated water for a bath, he slung his saddlebags over his shoulder then scaled the steps. He smiled appreciatively when he entered his room to see the feather bed and the brass tub in the corner.

Tossing aside his saddlebags, he ambled over to the window to look down on the bustling streets filled with hide hunters, gamblers, cowboys and desperadoes. Turning away to heel-and-toe out of his boots, Hud un-fastened his holsters and set aside his weapons. His gaze skittered around the room again.

“Hell of a life you lead,” he mumbled to himself. “The highlight of your month is bathing in a tub and sleeping on a real bed.”

Chapter Two

After a surprisingly appetizing meal at Garland Café, Bri scurried back to her room. She considered searching out a guide and arranging to rent a horse from the livery this evening. But first things first, she decided. She wanted to confront Eaton Powell II immediately. Although Bri could practically hear her mother pitching a fit—all the way from her palatial drawing room in Austin—she was giving Eaton notice that she had cancelled their engagement. Permanently. He could make his way home without her and he could campaign his heart out while he was at it.

All she wanted was to be rid of him for good.

Determined of purpose, Bri hiked down the hall. Two scraggly-looking characters came to attention as she approached. She kept her head down, her face concealed by the floppy-brimmed gray bonnet. She could feel the weight of the derringer she kept tucked in one garter on her thigh and the cool steel blade of the dagger she stashed on the other.

Anna Roland Price would throw a conniption if she knew what a vast education and unconventional training her daughter had received when she’d been shipped off to that snobbish finishing school in Houston. Bri had befriended a rascally, fun-loving street urchin—who had initially tried to rob her—and then he became her dearest companion.

The thought of Benji Dunlop’s life cut short by his senseless death galvanized her determination. She was not going to be the extension of her mother’s unreasonable expectations and she could handle herself in adversity, thanks to Benji’s thorough training. Bri had become a fair shot with a pistol. She could wield a knife accurately and she had learned to be a scrappy fighter in hand-to-hand combat.

“Don’t let nobody get the drop on you,” Benji had lectured her countless times. “Gotta guard yer own back ’cause you can’t count on nobody else to do it for you.”

Regret and sorrow whipped through Bri, remembering the loss of that treasured friendship. Benji had come to a bad end in a dark alley one night before he was to meet Bri for an evening adventure to Galveston. She had waited two hours but he never showed up. It was the next day before she learned that Benji had died at the hands of three knife-wielding bullies because he refused to give up the shiny gold pocket watch she had given him as a gift.

Bri slid her hand into her pocket to clasp the watch she had recovered at a pawnbroker’s shop. It was a constant reminder of the loyalty of her best friend and the uncertainty of life. Even after three years she still hadn’t recovered from the guilt. If she hadn’t given him the expensive gift that he treasured and carried proudly—visibly—he wouldn’t have lost his life.

“My, my, ain’t you easy on the eye, honey. Care for a little company?”

Bri ignored the tall, greasy-haired hombre whose smile displayed a mouthful of rotten teeth. He looked to be at least a decade older than her twenty-three years and he smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in months. When he grabbed her elbow, she jabbed him in the soft underbelly to ensure that he turned her loose so she could continue on her way.

“I bet I could teach you a thing or two about a woman’s place,” the man growled as he started after her.

“Try it and I’ll scream this place down around you. You can spend your evening in jail,” she muttered as she glared over her shoulder at him.

His slate-gray eyes narrowed menacingly. When he stepped toward her, his friend clamped hold of him to hold him at bay.

“Leave me alone, Pete,” the man said, and scowled.

“Easy, Joe, we got places we gotta be tonight. No need to call unnecessary attention to ourselves,” Pete, the heavyset, auburn-haired man insisted. “The boss wouldn’t like it.”

Bri ignored Joe Whoever-He-Was. She remained on high alert, in case the scoundrel wormed loose from his companion’s grasp and came after her.

She was proud to be the daughter of a veteran of the Confederate Army and Rangers’ upper echelon, as well as the best friend of a scrappy street fighter. Men didn’t expect her to be capable of defending herself. It was that element of surprise that had saved her several times when she chose to venture off alone to escape the restrictions of high society.

Bri silently rehearsed what she intended to say to Eaton before she wished him a final fare-thee-well. All the while, she cautiously monitored the whereabouts of the two men. She breathed a sigh of relief when they ducked into the room three doors down from her own. She halted in front of Eaton’s room and drew herself up to full stature, trying to make the most of her five-foot-three inch height.

She smirked at the thought of Eaton demanding the two-room dignitary suite. Nothing but the best for Eaton. He had convinced himself that he was entitled and he constantly put on airs to assure the public that he was something special.

Her thoughts flittered off when she heard a burst of feminine laughter on the other side of the door. Bri frowned then looked up at the room number. Yes, this was Eaton’s suite. She had come to the right place.

A man’s rumbling laugher caught Bri’s attention. It dawned on her that her soon-to-be ex-fiancé was entertaining a woman. She turned the doorknob and found it unlocked. When she poked her head around the edge of the door, she saw a string of garments—male and female—that formed a path across the small sitting room to the bedroom. The mirror hanging above the dresser in the adjoining room provided her with a view of the bed that sat against the back wall.

Bri gasped in shock when she saw a woman’s red head and bare breasts. She recognized the actress from the theater troupe. She was tumbling around in bed with Eaton, who was bare to the—

With a muffled squawk, she squeezed her eyes shut after she got a clear view of Eaton’s buttocks. She cursed under her breath when she realized belatedly that she had emitted a sound that interrupted the two lovers.

“What was that?” Eaton said as he yanked the sheet over his bare hips.

The redhead jerked the corner of the bedspread over her breasts. “Did you remember to lock the door?”

“Hell, no, you were pulling clothes off me left and right,” he muttered as he rolled off the bed to grab his breeches.

Heart pounding, Bri eased the door shut while Eaton stabbed a leg into his breeches. She really should confront him with his infidelity, here and now, she supposed. However, seeing him naked with the actress rattled her more than she expected. Her face felt as if it had gone up in flames and she couldn’t get the image out of her mind.

She became frantic when she heard the wooden floor creak as Eaton hurried to investigate. She glanced down the hall, trying to calculate how long it would take to reach her room and duck out of sight. Too blasted long, she decided.

She had to make a choice. She could face Eaton now while she was struggling to gather her composure or try to slip into the room next door until the coast was clear. She chose the latter.

To her relief the knob turned easily and silently. She darted inside the dark room and eased the door shut with a quiet click.

“What the hell—?”

Bri found herself staring at yet another bare chest. However, the man who owned it put Eaton to shame. Washboarded muscles rippled down his belly. His shoulders were much broader than Eaton’s and he stood six foot three inches in his stocking feet. His whiskered face was in deep shadows because his back was to the dim lantern light that was blocked by the dressing screen in the corner.

When Bri heard Eaton whip open his door to check for unwanted visitors in the hall, she glanced wildly at the brawny frontiersman who was staring warily at her. When he opened his mouth—in what she anticipated to be a terse demand to know why she had burst into his room unannounced—she did the only thing she could think to do to silence him quickly.

She pushed up on tiptoe and flung her arms around his neck. She kissed him soundly—sucking the breath from his lungs and the question off his tongue. When he tried to rear back to get a look at her, she held his head to hers and leaned sensuously against his solid chest. She put all she had into the embrace so she could keep him distracted until Eaton returned to his paramour.

A moment later, she heard the stranger’s rumbling purr. Then he said, “Well, if you insist, sweetheart…”

His arm glided around her waist to hold her intimately against him. To her surprise, he lifted her off the floor and kissed her back in a way she had never allowed a man to kiss her before. And now she knew why. It was entirely too intimate and personal and demanded more than she preferred to give.

Yet, for a dazed moment, she forgot her objective of keeping the half-dressed stranger quiet until Eaton reentered his suite. She told herself that she should be thinking about scuttling to her room once the coast was clear. But first she had to recover from the titillating sensation of being swallowed up in the powerful arms of the raven-haired stranger, whose sensuous lips were making a feast of her mouth. Despite the abrasive brush of his whiskers, Bri enjoyed the reckless embrace—in an utterly wicked and devilishly delightful kind of way.

Which was completely out of character for her. She didn’t go around grabbing men and kissing them until they gave in and kissed her back enthusiastically. She had become intrigued by kissing this brawny stranger. Then she had been swamped by a flood tide of physical pleasure that surely must be lust in its purest form.

The erotic misadventure left her experiencing the most incredible sensations imaginable. The man tasted good and he felt even better while he pressed her familiarly to his muscled planes and contours. If she was going to behave recklessly and irrationally, who better to experiment with than a perfect stranger who didn’t know who she was and had no expectations except sharing a mind-boggling kiss in the dark?

Bri gave herself up completely to the exquisite pleasure that consumed her and promptly forgot Eaton Powell II existed.

Hud’s mind went blank and his body hummed with unbridled desire while the mysterious woman, who had darted into his room unexpectedly, kissed him deaf, blind and stupid. His initial reaction upon seeing the woman in gray, whose face was concealed by the droopy brim of her bonnet, had been to lunge for the pistol that he’d tossed on the bed. But she’d caught him off guard when she latched onto him as if he were the missing half of her soul reunited after an eternity.

When she delivered that first lip-sizzling wallop of a kiss, Hud forgot everything he ever knew. It was the most bizarre moment of his life. He couldn’t see the color of her hair or the color of her eyes. He couldn’t tell much of anything about her appearance because she was no more than a gray shadow within the inky shadows of his dimly lit room. Yet, he kissed her for all he was worth and she clung to him with the same reckless abandonment.

Damn, in all his thirty-three years he’d never been so bewildered or out of control. Even his years of soldiering and rangering hadn’t prepared him for a surprise attack that assaulted all his senses at once. The unidentified female left him aching with lust and shaking with need in nothing flat. He responded instinctively to the taste of her kiss and the enticing feel of her shapely body molded to his.

After a long, hungry moment of pressing her hips against his hard arousal and kissing her as if there were no tomorrow—or the day after—he heard the door to the next room snap shut and the lock click into place. Then suddenly the kissing bandit lurched backward. Hud impulsively tried to pull her back into his arms but she bent his wrist at a painful angle and darted from his reach.

“Ouch,” he said to the back of her bonnet-covered head. “Mind telling me what the hell’s going on here—?”

“Shh-shh-shh!” she said without glancing back at him.

Then poof! She slipped out the door and scampered down the hall.

Hud craned his neck around the partially open door, noting the mysterious female in the dowdy gray gown and shawl was careful to cling to the shadows of the hall. When she reached the staircase, she turned her head away from him to conceal her facial features. Then she flew down the steps and disappeared from sight. He hadn’t had a clear view of her from her dramatic arrival to her abrupt departure.

He couldn’t describe the elusive night visitor or identify her voice. Yet, he knew the appealing taste of her, knew her alluring scent and he knew how amazingly good her curvaceous body felt in his arms.

Frowning, Hud shook his head to clear the erotic sensations that fogged his senses. He glanced toward the waiting tub of bathwater behind the dressing screen and smiled wryly. If the kissing bandit had arrived two minutes later, Hud would have been stark naked. That would have been an interesting way to make her acquaintance. Of course, her way of introducing herself with a steamy, mind-blowing kiss and “shh-shh-shh” was peculiar enough.

“Ah, well, I guess you have to expect such things in a boisterous town like The Flat,” he said to himself as he unfastened the placket of his breeches on his way to the tub.

Hud smirked at the steam drifting from the water. Now he was going to need a cool bath instead of a warm one, because the kissing bandit had left him hot and bothered.

Bri halted at the bottom of the steps to inhale several bolstering breaths. Lord have mercy! That unexpected encounter, coming so quickly on the heels of viewing Eaton’s tryst, left her head spinning like a windmill. At least she’d had the presence of mind to rush downstairs rather than scamper to her room. Otherwise, the raven-haired stranger would have known where to find her. He might have dropped by to ask the kind of embarrassing questions she didn’t want to answer, even to herself.

After striding across the boardwalk in front of the hotel, Bri paused to grab hold of the supporting beam to steady herself. She glanced toward the opera house, watching the actors give one last pitch to attend their final performance. Bri was still staring in that direction, lost in thought, when the redhead exited the Brazos Hotel hastily and scuttled down the street to rejoin her troupe. Bri wondered if other thespians spent their spare time giving command performances behind closed doors. One did, apparently.

After five minutes passed, Eaton swaggered from the lobby, dressed fit to kill—as usual. Unless he was tripping the light fantastic with a paramour. In which case he stripped naked.

Discarding the unpleasant image of Eaton’s soft, pale flesh, Bri drew herself up, squared her shoulders and walked over to plant herself squarely in Eaton’s path.

“Ah, there you are, sweetheart. I’ve missed you,” he had the nerve to say.

Missed me? My eye, she thought sourly.

“I’d like a word with you, Eaton,” she demanded.

He glanced over the top of her drooping gray bonnet to stare at the opera house. “Can’t it wait? I’d like to catch the last theater performance before the troupe packs up and heads west.”

“You already did,” she said, smirking. “Private showing, I believe you call it.”

He tried to look blithely innocent and befuddled, but his demeanor became noticeably cautious. “Pardon? I don’t have the faintest notion what you mean.”

“Of course you do. Remember that unexplained noise you heard while you and the redhead were naked together in bed?” she prompted. “That was me gasping in shock.”

Bri took grand satisfaction in watching the arrogant dandy’s brown eyes pop from their sockets. His freshly shaved jaw sagged on its hinges. Then he recovered enough to shake his head vigorously in denial.

“I have no idea what you’re babbling about.” He struck a haughty pose and looked down his nose at her drab garments. “Furthermore, you look hideous in that shapeless gray outfit. Really, Gabrielle, go change into something suitable and we’ll attend the theater performance.” He flicked his wrist to shoo her on her way. “I’ll wait for you here.”

“In the first place, you know exactly what I’m referring to,” she said in a stern tone. “Secondly, you can stop lying to me. I know who and what I saw. Having said that, you shouldn’t be surprised that I am officially canceling our engagement. You can see yourself home on the next stagecoach.”

“You are not canceling out on me,” he snapped, his polite facade fizzling out. “Your family and mine have made an arrangement and we are sticking with it.”

“No, we aren’t. Your tryst made it null and void.”

“Your mother and my aunt already made the announcement and set the plans in motion,” he all but growled at her.

“My mother doesn’t speak for me when it pertains to important decisions that affect my future,” she replied. “I’m going west to visit my father and I don’t want to see you when I return here. You can campaign all the way home if you like, but this is where we part company permanently.”

He took a step closer, trying to intimidate her, but Bri didn’t scare easily. “You are making a gigantic mistake,” he snarled, all his practiced charm gone with the wind.

“My mistake was keeping silent so long about this disastrous mismatch.” Bri thrust back her shoulders and elevated her chin when he clutched her arm painfully. “Back away, Eaton. There are witnesses here about and don’t think I won’t land a strategic blow that will drop you to your knees and ruin your next tryst with the redhead.”

Eaton’s dark eyes glistened with fury. He gnashed his teeth as he released her arm to spin on his well-shod heels. “We will continue this conversation later.”

“No, it’s over,” she said in no uncertain terms.

He paused momentarily to look back at her. His gaze narrowed in a menacing frown. “You are going to regret your decision, Gabrielle. I promise you that.”

She silently wished him good riddance and a quick one-way trip to hell as he struck a confident pose, then swaggered down the street. Bri glanced at the pocket watch she held near and dear. She knew it was ill-advised to go gadding about after dark in this rowdy town, but she felt the need to walk off her frustration. Plus, she wanted to make arrangements at the livery to buy a reliable horse and tack for her journey. She decided to save the interviews for a prospective guide and the gathering of necessary supplies until the next morning.

Battling a tired yawn, Bri strode toward the livery stable, following behind a cluster of citizens that were moving down the boardwalk toward the theater. She didn’t want to isolate herself and risk being whisked off by the rougher element of society—like the two cretins she had encountered in the hotel hallway—while she was mentally distracted.

Bri glanced around, wondering if there was anyone else besides the rougher elements gallivanting at night in a town known as one of the toughest places this side of hell. Probably not. Except for the brawny stranger who kissed like nobody’s business and left her burning with forbidden desire.

After a refreshing bath and a short nap, Hud exited the hotel. He scowled sourly when he found himself glancing up and down the dark streets, trying to locate the mysterious woman in drab gray who had kissed him senseless then pulled her vanishing act without a word of explanation.

Whoever and wherever she was didn’t matter, he told himself sensibly. He had ventured out this evening to enjoy a drink and scratch the itch the mysterious kissing bandit provoked. Afterward, he’d swing by the stagecoach depot and inquire about the arrival of Commander Price’s spoiled daughter.

Too bad she didn’t have the good sense to stay in Austin where she belonged. She could have saved him this frustration. The thought of the prissy socialite and her politician of a fiancé spoiled Hud’s mood. He quickened his pace, planning to veer into the nearest saloon. To his dismay, guttural snarls caught his attention. He stopped short when two burly bodies, locked in a bear hug, slammed into the clapboard wall of a saloon. The men—one was a buffalo hunter and the other a cowboy, judging by their style of clothing—crashed across the boardwalk and rolled into the street. Their drunken oaths and vicious growls captured the attention of passersby. Patrons also spilled from the saloon to egg on the brawlers.

Hud glanced toward the marshal’s office that sat twenty yards from the fort’s guardhouse at the bottom of Government Hill. He sighed in exasperation when Marshal Long didn’t rush from the office to break up the fight. Well, hell, he thought. He’d had to separate drunken brawlers in hellholes like The Flat plenty of times. Apparently, tonight was no different.

When the two snarling men threw punches at each other, drew blood and turned the night air blue with foul curses, Hud grabbed the reins to the nearest horse. Then he walked the horse between the two downed men, forcing them to roll away or be stepped on. Their choice.

Disappointed that Hud had spoiled their entertainment, the saloon crowd wandered back to the bar.

“Who the hell do ya think you are?” the scraggly-haired hide hunter muttered as he straightened his buffalo vest and glowered at Hud.

“Yeah, mind yer own b’ness,” the cowboy slurred out as he blotted his bloody lip with his shirtsleeve.

“What’s going on here?”

Hud glanced over to see the marshal striding toward him. If Hud wasn’t mistaken, Calvin Long, the bandy-legged law officer whose birdlike facial features had earned him the nickname of Sparrow, had dressed hurriedly. His shirt was fastened unevenly and the top buttons on the placket of his breeches were gaping. Hud speculated the marshal had stopped in the red-light district while making his evening rounds.

Hud had been on his way to seek out the same diversion, especially after the mysterious female had started a fire in him with her scorching kisses.

Calvin Long cocked his head in a birdlike manner and studied Hud for a long moment. “Stone, isn’t it?”

Hud nodded.

“Wish you’d stop in more often. Since this town has grown to a population of two thousand, not counting the influx of hide hunters and cowboys who pass through here like blustery winds, I could use an extra hand keeping the lid on this place.”

“I’ll help you haul your rowdy friends to the calaboose,” Hud volunteered.

He grabbed the cowboy by the nape of the shirt and marched him toward the jail while the marshal ushered the greasy-haired buffalo hunter down the boardwalk.

“Damn cowpuncher,” the hide hunter scowled as he wobbled unsteadily on his feet. “I saw her first. He had no cause to interfere with me.”

“You were fighting over a woman?” Hud asked as they approached the jail. “I haven’t met a woman who’s worth a gut punching or a split lip.”

“This goon was trying to drag the poor woman into the alley,” the cowboy muttered out the uninjured side of his mouth. “I was rescuing her from this ugly brute. I don’t belong in jail. He does!”

“Ha! You wanted her for yerself. But she was workin’ me over too good without yer interference.” The buffalo hunter readjusted his wooly cap then leaned heavily on Marshal Long for support. “She kicked me right square in the crotch when I latched on to her. Then she hit me with somethin’. Don’t know what but it set me off.” He hitched his thumb—which sported a dirty, jagged fingernail—toward the cowboy. “Then this cow-faced wrangler showed up to take her away from me.”

“I was defending her honor, you smelly bastard,” the cowboy sneered insultingly.

“She didn’t need no help. She took off down the alley like a gray blur and left me on my knees, tryin’ to catch my breath.”

Gray blur? Hud shot a quick glance over his shoulder to the alley. The kissing bandit? he wondered. Where was she now? Had she returned safely from wherever she’d come from?

A shadowy movement in the alley caught Hud’s attention. “I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” he said, striding off.

Hud muttered an oath when the elusive female backed into the deepest reaches of the alley, making it impossible to see her face again. “I want to know who you are,” he demanded as he approached. When she pivoted on her heels, he said, “Don’t make me chase you down, because I can and I will do it.”

She turned to face him and he cursed that droopy bonnet that hid her features as he approached. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and her bonnet flopped over her face.

“You weren’t hurt by the hide hunter?” When she shook her head no, he said, “Tell me your name.”

She didn’t speak, just curled her hand around the back of his neck and kissed him senseless again. Instant pleasure assailed him and he wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her hard and hungrily for a long, breathless moment. Then she traced his lips with her forefinger and backed away.

“Hey! Are you coming to help or not?” the marshal shouted impatiently.

“I’m on my way,” Hud called over his shoulder.

To his dismay he glanced back to see that his fantasy woman had vanished like a specter evaporating into nothingness. Grumbling at the kissing bandit’s amazing ability to melt down his brain then disappear at will, he strode toward the marshal. He told himself to forget about the mysterious woman and focus on locking the brawlers in jail. Then he could quench his thirst, scratch an itch and wait for Commander Price’s daughter to arrive in The Flat.

Chapter Three

When the two men were locked behind bars, Hud glanced curiously at the marshal. “Do you know if a female passenger arrived on the stagecoach today?”

Calvin suddenly noticed his improperly buttoned shirt. He smiled guiltily as he corrected the problem.

“Better check your gaping placket while you’re at it,” Hud suggested with a wry grin.

“Well, hell,” Calvin grumbled self-consciously. “It’s getting to where a man can’t follow pleasurable pursuits when he’s on break without being interrupted by gun-fights, brawls and such. In the past week there’s been a duel on the street, an unidentified body left in the alley and a half-dozen saloon brawls. Not to mention corralling an abusive drunk in the red-light district.”

“About the stage passengers?” Hud prompted. “I’m supposed to escort the commander’s daughter to the Ranger camp.”

Calvin nodded in recognition. “I heard there were a lady and a highfalutin political candidate on board the stagecoach. But I didn’t see her in person. The coach rolled in late this afternoon.” He lifted a thinning brow. “The commander’s daughter, you say?”

Hud nodded.

“I don’t know where she is, but I saw that Powell character strutting around like a rooster earlier this evening. He’s campaigning for senator and he was shaking a few hands after the theater performance. Then he strutted off with a crowd of cowboys. My guess is that he was planning to buy a few votes by paying for several rounds of whiskey at one of the saloons. The woman is probably holed up in Brazos Hotel since it offers the best accommodations in town.”

After Hud fielded the marshal’s questions about the reports of Comanche and Kiowa raids against supply wagons and the threat of Mexican and white outlaw gangs stealing everything they could carry off, he stopped in for a long-awaited drink at a saloon.

First thing in the morning he would seek out Miss High-and-Mighty Price and arrange for the return trip to camp. He dreaded the jaunt and the unwanted company, but at least this escort detail would take only a few days. Then he could concentrate on finding Mad Joe Jarvis and his sidekick, Pete Spaulding.

Bri had been lingering in the shadows of the alley, watching the brawny stranger break up the brawl between the lecherous bastard who’d grabbed her and the drunken cowboy who’d tried to come to her defense—and had accidentally gotten in her way. She would’ve had that stinking hide hunter laid out like a corpse in the dirt, suffering a brain-scrambling blow to his hard head if the cowboy hadn’t charged in.

She hadn’t lost the knack of self-defense, she mused proudly. Benji Dunlop had taught her well. She remembered every dirty trick and had used several on the drunken brute before she knocked him to his knees. What she didn’t know was why she’d allowed the tall, muscular stranger to approach her when she could have lost herself in the shadows of the alley, despite his claim that he could track her down.

After the stranger and the marshal hauled the two men to jail, Bri wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders and scuttled back to the hotel. She could rest easy now. She had contacted the livery owner and purchased a sturdy mount and had gathered a few supplies as well. However, she had yet to hire a dependable guide. She frowned pensively, wondering where she might find a reliable escort in a town jumping alive with scoundrels.

Perhaps she could hire the stranger, she mused as she locked the door to her hotel room. He was obviously competent. She had watched him break up a street fight without sustaining so much as a scratch.

Bri removed her gown to stitch up the shoulder seam the hide hunter had ripped loose when he became pushy and insistent.

On second thought, it wouldn’t be wise to approach the ruggedly handsome stranger she’d brazenly kissed twice in the same night. If he recognized her, he might presume that he was entitled to fringe benefits during their cross-country jaunt.

Then again, if he didn’t recognize her…

Bri set aside her mended gown to prepare for bed. Maybe she would approach the stranger and test the waters. If he didn’t recognize her she might offer him a job as her guide. He’d proven himself capable of handling adversity this evening. Whoever and whatever he was, he had remained cool and collected while breaking up the brawl.

Bri admired that about him. Not to mention her appreciation of the arousing way he kissed. The erotic thought sent wicked pleasure rippling through her. Smiling secretively, Bri laid her head on her pillow and fell fast asleep. Two hours later she awakened in the middle of such a vivid fantasy that her body burned with forbidden desire. Chastising herself, she crammed the pillow over her head and tried to sleep without dreaming.

Eaton glanced at his bejeweled pocket watch. He’d bought a round of drinks and encouraged the saloon patrons to cast their votes for him in the upcoming election. Impatiently he finished off his drink and killed another few minutes before the clandestine meeting he’d arranged with his new associate.

He swallowed a grin, remembering that Sylvia would be waiting for him when he concluded his business. Eaton cast aside the lusty thought as he sauntered from the saloon to the gaming hall. When the three men appeared on the boardwalk, he inclined his head toward the alley.

Eaton tapped the butt of the pistol he carried beneath his expensive jacket to make sure he was still armed—just in case. Muggings were commonplace in this hellhole and he didn’t intend to become a victim while he arranged for his newfound friend’s hirelings to deal effectively with Gabrielle.

“Now, what is this task you require, in exchange for my financial support and your political loyalty?” Ray Novak asked then puffed on his cigar.

Eaton surveyed his new cohort’s bulky physique and bushy eyebrows. The rancher shared the same fetish of dressing in the finest clothing money could buy. A man after my own heart, Eaton thought as he walked deeper into the shadows of the alley so no one could overhear him.

“I’m having a problem with my contrary fiancée,” he murmured. “I trust your two men can make the necessary accommodations. I intend to teach her a lesson and to promote my campaign. Of course, this favor will benefit you as well.”

“Count on it.” Novak smiled around the cigar he had clamped between his teeth.

Then Eaton got down to the dirty business of hammering out the details.

The next morning Bri started when someone rapped abruptly on her hotel room door. She glanced at her watch, surprised Eaton had piled out of bed at this early hour, even if he was driven by the need to convince her to reconsider their engagement.

“Not a chance in hell that I will change my mind,” she vowed as she opened the door. She blinked in surprise when the brawny stranger who had tormented her dreams loomed on the threshold, not Eaton.

“Miss Price, I presume.”

His deep, resonant voice rolled over her. She was quick to note that he didn’t seem surprised to see her. There was no flicker of recognition in his whiskey-colored eyes that were surrounded by thick black lashes. He was as tall as she remembered and his face was tanned. Raven hair protruded from beneath the brim of his hat.

Although he wore buckskin breeches and a dark button-down shirt that looked the worse for wear, he filled out the garments exceptionally well. He did indeed possess broad shoulders and long muscular arms, just as she remembered. Double holsters that sported pearl-handled peacemakers encircled his lean waist. He had horseman’s thighs and he wore scuffed high-heeled boots designed to remain in the stirrups when breaking speed records on the back of a horse.

This was definitely the man she had kissed last night. Minus the bristly whiskers, she tacked on. Now he was clean-shaven and she wondered if she’d enjoy kissing him even more without those whiskers.

Bri mentally pinched herself when she realized she was staring at his sensuous lips and studying his striking appearance like a dazzled schoolgirl. It amazed her that she felt such an instant and compelling physical attraction to him. For all she knew he might be a hired killer. Whatever his profession, he was appealing—in a rugged sort of way—and he drew her attention and held it fast.

When his alert gaze roved over her plain blue cotton gown then refocused on her face, she didn’t know why she felt insulted by what appeared to be his indifference and his quick dismissal. Nonetheless, she was disappointed. She swore that she saw him smirk before he schooled his face in a carefully disciplined stare. Obviously he’d taken one look at her and found her lacking.

True, she wasn’t wearing the most expensive gown she owned and she didn’t approve of putting on airs the way Eaton did, but she did look presentable…didn’t she? She looked better than when she wore the dowdy gray gown, bonnet and shawl that practically made her invisible in the shadows.

“And your name is?” she replied while he studied her with a stare that was no more flattering than the first.

Honestly, she might not be a raving beauty like some of the debutantes who attended soirées in Austin, but she’d never had a man show such a complete lack of interest. Usually men paid her more attention than she preferred.

“Captain Hudson Stone,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. “You can call me Hud. Your father ordered me to contact you. I am to escort you to camp since he is on inspection and is occupied with field reports.” He stared pointedly at her. “Perhaps you can schedule your next visit during a time when the commander isn’t exceptionally busy. You might save both of us valuable time.”

She arched a challenging brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you lecturing me, Captain?”

“Is that what it sounded like?”

Hud stared at her with feigned innocence and watched her hypnotic indigo eyes flicker with irritation. If she was upset by his insult then too damn bad. He was tired, cranky and annoyed that she was so strikingly attractive that it took all his willpower not to react to her. He wanted her to be the female version of Winston Price. She was anything but.

She was positively alluring with those almond-shaped eyes that were rimmed with long sooty lashes. Her oval face was the color of peaches and cream and her pert nose gave her a bit of an impish appearance. Her curly mane of gold hair seemed to catch fire in the early morning light that streamed through the window. He had to clench his fist to prevent himself from burying his hand in those flaming curls.

Hud hated that he found everything about Gabrielle Price appealing. Lusting after an engaged woman was unacceptable. Especially this one. She was also the commander’s daughter.

“I don’t know what I have done to annoy you, Captain. Or are you just one of those surly individuals who wakes up in a bad mood and never overcomes it?” she asked with a sticky-sweet smile.

Extremely attractive…except for that sassy mouth, he corrected. Maybe that’s what Commander Price meant when he claimed Gabrielle was unique.

When she snapped her fingers in his face, disciplining him like an absentminded child, he jerked up his head and glared down at her from his superior height. His steely-eyed stare didn’t faze her one whit, he noted.

Feisty and combative, too, he mused, adding to the list of her annoying traits. The more the better, he thought.

“Damn good thing you’re pretty,” he muttered under his breath.

“Say again?” she demanded.

He shrugged. “Nothing important.”

“I figured as much. I’m sure my father kept his best Rangers for patrol duty and left you for me.”

He bared his teeth. Not to be outdone, she did the same. They were off to a rocky start. Not that he cared. Escort detail kept him from his crusade to avenge Speck Horton. Because of this delay, a cold trail would be damn hard to follow.

And that snide remark she’d made about other Rangers being more competent? He’d like to shake her until her teeth rattled for saying that.

“You saved me the trouble of seeking out a guide,” she commented as she strode over to gather her two satchels. “I still can replace you if you prefer. Apparently you have taken an instant disliking to me, Captain.”

She had that right…and wrong. He liked her—in an exasperating sort of way that defied common sense. He had expected a whiny little daisy of a female. Instead, he had clashed with an iron-willed woman who didn’t back down easily and gave exactly what she got. He doubted she could follow orders worth a damn, either. Despite the fact that her father had spent two decades in military service and law enforcement, he hadn’t managed to teach Gabrielle Price discipline.

When Hud dallied too long in thought, she snapped her fingers at him again, which aggravated the hell out of him.

“Well? Shall I seek out someone else, Stone? Are these questions too difficult for you? I can speak slower if necessary,” she taunted unmercifully.

Hud blew out a breath. “No, I’m under direct orders from your father,” he replied in a brusque tone. “With any luck, we will dodge bloodthirsty outlaws and Indian war parties to reach bivouac without killing each other. I’m up to the challenge if you are.”

“Definitely.” She nodded her head and sunlight sparkled in that glorious mass of curly golden hair again. “I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

“At first light tomorrow…if you can drag yourself from bed that early,” he added caustically.

She smiled snidely at him. “I’m an early riser. As you can see, the early bird is here to greet the worm.”

Bri bit back a grin when Hud’s amber gaze narrowed on her. If he wanted to continue exchanging insults, she was up to the challenge. In fact, she rather enjoyed matching wits with this particular Ranger, who obviously drew the short straw when it came to unwanted escort detail. He was stuck with her and he wasn’t the least bit happy about it. He had no qualms about voicing his displeasure, either.

“I see no reason why we can’t leave this morning,” she insisted. “I’m packed and ready to ride.”

“I have other duties to attend while I’m in town.”

“Like what? A visit to the nearest brothel and saloons? A diversion to compensate for the unpleasant duty of acting as my guide?”

“Precisely. You’re more insightful than I anticipated,” he countered. “Might as well have some fun when I can. Clearly, we aren’t going to get along well during our journey through a region where danger is the rule, not the exception. I’m warning you now that this is no place for the faint of heart and the tender of foot.”

She snickered at his turn of phrase.

“I’ll give you a day’s rest so you can keep the swift pace I set, Mizz Price.” He stepped closer, eclipsing her with his size and stature. “Just so you know, my longtime friend and fellow Ranger was murdered recently. I was trying to track down the bastard who shot Speck Horton in the back, stole his badge and left him to coyotes. Have you ever seen what a pack of hungry coyotes can do to a man, Mizz Price?”

She grimaced at the bleak prospect. “No.”

“Consider yourself lucky because it isn’t pretty. Speck was my friend and dragging myself here to fetch a greenhorn, who arrived on a foolhardy whim doesn’t set well with me.”

He stared her down—and he was good at it, damn his brawny hide. “If you and your fiancé had any brains in your heads you’d catch the next stagecoach out of here and wait for your father’s return to Austin to visit him. They don’t call this place Hell’s Fringe for nothing. So pay attention when you sashay down the boardwalk today. And do not go out at night unless you have a death wish.”

She would love to tell this hard-bitten Ranger captain that she could take care of herself, thank you very much. But he was all puffed up like a spitting cobra and it was difficult to get a word in edgewise.

“People in these parts get their throats slit for the coins in their pockets,” he said bluntly. “And you don’t want to know what can happen to a defenseless woman. Just last night a female came dangerously close to being mauled and raped by a drunken hide hunter.”

Not as close as you think, she mused. The foul-smelling brute was seeing double after she clobbered him with the broken wagon yoke she’d found in the garbage bin.

“Are you quite finished trying to scare me, Captain Stone? You can go now.” She flicked her wrist dismissively, doing a fair impersonation of Eaton at his snobbish best.

“Quite finished,” he grunted out as he stepped across the threshold into the hall. “Tell your fiancé to keep his wits about him while he’s escorting you around town.”

Bri didn’t bother to mention that Eaton was her ex-fiancé and that he wasn’t accompanying her cross-country. “I might leave him behind,” she declared flippantly. “That will give me more opportunity to charm and seduce you, Captain.”

“Even if I were interested, which I’m not, it would be a waste of your time,” he shot back. “I don’t dally with an engaged woman, especially when she is my commander’s daughter.”

The insult provoked her to thrust back her shoulders and tilt her chin indignantly. “Change of plans, Captain,” she snapped. “I’ll make my own way to camp or find another guide.”

“Like hell you will.”

“Consider yourself officially dismissed. I’ve had quite enough of you. Goodbye and good riddance!” she said before she slammed the door in his face.

Hud halted at the top of the staircase and cursed himself up one side and down the other. He had been rude, sarcastic and harsh with the commander’s daughter. But she had set him off with that sassy mouth, he thought self-righteously. Moreover, it annoyed him that she was so stunningly attractive and that he had to go to great lengths to pretend not to notice. Plus, she was quick-witted and she rose to every challenge. She impressed him—and annoyed the living hell out of him at once. Which made dealing with her a nightmare.

Muttering, he tramped downstairs to have breakfast with Marshal Long, who had requested that Hud add a few more names to his Black Book that he carried to keep track of fugitives. Several Wanted posters had arrived with the mail from the stagecoach. Sparrow wanted Hud to update the other Rangers about the outlaws who had been described and identified as perpetrators of various crimes in the region.

Hud’s Black Book—or Bible II, as he and the other Rangers referred to their source of information—was invaluable in the field. He had noted physical descriptions, clothing styles, preferences of weapons and aliases on dozens of outlaws known to be prowling the area.

The damn book was getting so thick that it barely fit into his vest pocket, he mused as he strode to the café.

Hud scanned the street, wondering if Mad Joe Jarvis might be in town. It was a possibility. Before he veered into the café to join Sparrow, he stared up at the second-story window of the hotel. Now that he had settled his ruffled feathers he regretted giving the commander’s daughter such a rough time.

Well, he’d apologize bright and early the next morning and find a way to return to her good graces—if she had any. The last thing he needed was for the commander’s daughter to run crying to daddy and have him dishonorably discharged. Fiery and contrary as she was, she might do it to spite him.

Hud barked a laugh. He could just imagine what Gabrielle Price thought of him. He made a mental note never to ask her directly. Articulate as she was, she’d have a field day categorically listing everything she disliked about him.

Bri spent the day dodging Eaton, who rapped on her door three separate times. If he thought he could persuade her to change her mind about their betrothal, he was sorely mistaken. After he strutted off to take supper without her, Bri donned one of her drab gray gowns, shawl and bonnet so she could roam the streets and alleys as she had done often in Houston with Benji Dunlop at her side.

She came upon three young lads who were scrounging through trash bins for anything they could sell. She stood in the shadows behind the general store, watching the teenage boys. The scene reminded her so much of Benji that her throat closed up with emotion. She clutched the treasured pocket watch in her fist as she stepped into view.

“What’d you be wantin’, lady?” the oldest boy demanded sharply.

She appraised the gangly boy, who looked to be fourteen—or thereabouts. “Find anything in the garbage worth keeping?” she asked conversationally.

The boys eyed her warily, ready to break and run if she made a threatening move toward them.

“Not much. You expect us to share what we got with you?” the second lad, whose long face was surrounded with frizzy hair, demanded gruffly.

Bri shook her head. “No, I’m here to share what I have with you.” She retrieved three silver dollars from her pocket and tossed one to each boy. “These are compliments of Benji Dunlop.”

“Who’s Benji Dunlop?” the youngest, cherub-faced lad asked as he rubbed his grimy fingers over the shiny coin.

“The best friend I ever had. He roamed the back alleys of Houston. His home was a hut made of crates that he fashioned behind a saloon. He shared whatever he had with me.” She glanced around curiously. “Where do you call home?”

The tallest boy hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “We got a fortress of sorts under a broken-down wagon behind one of the freight offices.”

Bri tossed each boy another silver dollar. “Dinner is on Benji tonight. Enjoy it.”

When she turned away, the second ragamuffin called after her. “What’s yer name, lady?”

“I’m just a friend who cares about you.”

A pleased smile pursed Bri’s lips when she heard the boys bounding off, whooping and hollering excitedly. Now that she knew where the boys lived, she hurried off to see their makeshift home. She shook her head in dismay when she located the wagon that served as their sleeping quarters. Broken crates were piled around the dilapidated wagon. Beneath it, tattered blankets served as bedding.

She decided right then and there that she was going to improve the boys’ living conditions and offer them a new start. They would at least have a chance to make a decent life for themselves.

Wheeling around, Bri strode quickly toward the street. She halted near the boardwalk and clung to the shadows as several men, who reeked of sweat and whiskey, sauntered past her. Then her gaze settled on the brawny silhouette of the man who exited the saloon across the street. She shrank back when his gaze settled directly on her. For a moment, she swore those golden cat eyes could pierce the darkness and he could see as well at night as he could in daylight. Would he recognize her?

Bri ducked her head and scuttled down the boardwalk toward the hotel. No matter what, she wasn’t going to allow Captain Hudson Stone, the hard-hearted Ranger, to recognize her. Unfortunately, he crossed the street, eating up the ground with his long, swift strides.

“Curse it,” she muttered under her breath. She darted into the nearest alley and melted into the shadows. But wouldn’t you know that he’d pursue her relentlessly, same as he had last night.

“So we meet again,” he murmured as he halted in front of the place where she lurked in a pool of inky shadows.

Bri refused to speak for fear he would recognize her voice. She smiled to herself, thinking that he was nicer to the mystery-woman-in-gray than he had been to the commander’s daughter.

“Wandering down these dark streets and alleys is a very bad idea,” he warned her. “I was hoping last night’s fiasco taught you to—”

Bri latched on to Hud when she saw Eaton and his red-haired actress ambling down the boardwalk. If Eaton spotted her in her gray gown, he would spoil her charade.

“Awk…” Hud choked on his breath when she clamped her mouth over his and pulled him deeper into the shadows.

To her dismay, the same bedeviling sensations that assailed her the previous night spilled over her again. His tantalizing scent, his taste and the feel of his muscular body pressed against her swept her into a dizzying universe that defied logical explanation. When she came within two feet of him, her body reacted with reckless abandon. How was this even possible? she wondered bewilderedly.

This man didn’t like her. He thought she was spoiled and selfish. Maybe she was, but he had no right to sit in judgment. Furthermore, he had no right to arouse her when she didn’t want to like him, either. Unfortunately, there was no denying her fierce and lusty reaction to him.

Hud clamped his hands on her hips, pressing her against his thighs, making her vividly aware of his masculine response. Then his hand glided up to brush the side of her breast and another flame of desire scorched her.

Bri told herself to back away now that the potential threat of being recognized by Eaton had passed. But the feel of Hud’s palm gliding over the fabric covering her breast made her burn with insatiable need. When he teased her nipple with his thumb, her legs wobbled and her breath sighed out raggedly. The embrace quickly became even more personal and intimate than the ones from the previous night.

Bri moaned in helpless surrender when he lowered his head to kiss her hungrily. He cupped her breast again and insinuated his muscled thigh between her legs, making her weak with need.

“Come back to my room,” he whispered between devouring kisses and arousing caresses.

“Hey, mister, get yer hands off of her!” came an irate adolescent voice from the black depths of the alley.

Hud jerked up his head, surprised to see three ragtag boys, each carrying a makeshift club, prepared to defend to the death the Lady In Gray. He glanced down, hoping to get a good look at her features, but she turned her head away from him quickly and looked back at the boys.

“We mean it, mister.” The chubby runt from the ragamuffin trio raised his club threateningly. “Let her go…N…O…W.”

“Yeah, you better back off right this minute or we’ll make you damn sorry,” the middle-sized urchin sneered boldly.

Hud was still standing there, his body throbbing with unappeased desire, when the mysterious woman lurched around and darted between the three boys.

Hud shook his head, trying to clear his senses. No doubt about it, the elusive female was spinning some sort of magical web around him. One minute she was kissing him until his brain went up in flames and his body burned into a pile of frustrated ashes. Then poof! Off she went again. This time she had three half-grown guard puppies trailing behind her. Were they her children or her siblings? he wondered.

Scowling at the oddity of his encounters with the Lady In Gray, Hud pivoted on his boot heels. Thanks to that steamy interlude, he needed another drink. He also needed a cold bath to douse the fire the kissing bandit left burning inside him—again.

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