The Ranger's Woman

And sure enough, he barely had time to set aside the satchels and his bedroll before the horses pranced impatiently and the stage flipped upside down. Quinn darted forward to remove the pin that kept the tongue of the coach secured to the team of horses. He grabbed the reins to prevent the horses from charging off when the coach plummeted down the side of the mountain.

Debris scattered everywhere as the coach struck one jagged outcropping of rock after another. Shattered pieces of the stage kerplopped in the stream and floated away.

Quinn stood there for a moment, studying the wreckage and counting himself damn lucky that he wasn’t a part of it.

“As I said, I can explain…”

The woman’s voice no longer held that nasal, grating pitch. Quinn rounded on her, feeling deceived and betrayed. He’d had more than enough of that in his line of work, without this sneaky female pulling the wool over his eyes.

“This better be good,” he said, and smirked disrespectfully. “Posing as a persnickety old harridan who is probably carrying stolen money—and who knows what else—doesn’t say much for your integrity, does it? I’ve dealt with several treacherous bandits in my day, but you’re about as conniving as they come, Agatha.” He spit out her name like a curse, which is exactly how he meant it.

“My name is Piper…uh…just Piper,” she introduced herself.

“Another alias? Somehow I’m not surprised.”

The fact that she refused to provide her last name made him all the more wary of her. He would bet his right arm that she was a fugitive from justice, traveling incognito and carrying stolen money.

Vowing that a pretty face wouldn’t sway him—and she definitely had that going for her—Quinn stalked over to tether the horses. While Piper watched him curiously, he reversed direction to retrieve his satchel and bedroll.

“What are you going to do? Surely you don’t intend to leave me in the middle of nowhere!” she howled at him.

“Surely I do,” he said, refusing to be influenced by the shocked expression on her beguiling features. “I’m tracking the outlaw gang that killed my best friend six months ago in a canyon near here. You’re on your own, lady.”

She stamped her foot and glowered at him. Ah, that feisty disposition wasn’t just an act, he noticed. The woman was teeming with indomitable spirit and fiery temperament.

“Now, see here, Cal. You can’t just ride off and leave me here, knowing I’ll probably die.” She wagged her finger in his face. “And if I do, I will come back to haunt you. You can depend on it.”

“I’m sure you will. But you’ll have to get in line. I’ve heard the same threat from a number of folks.”

When she scurried after him, he stopped short and then grunted uncomfortably when she slammed into him. “Look, lady, I’m going to change into my usual attire before I grab a horse and ride out. I suggest you change into something more practical for riding, unless you want to hang around here waiting for the eastbound coach to show up.”

“And when will that be?”

“In a couple of days.”

“A couple of days?” she wailed in frustration.

He watched her draw herself up and tilt her chin at him. Quinn blinked when the image of Agatha-the-hag superimposed itself on Piper. Scowling, he whipped around, then strode off to change clothes, refusing to give the lovely shyster another thought.

Piper watched Cal disappear from sight, then hurried over to rummage through her luggage for appropriate clothing. Knowing she would be living at an army garrison, she had packed two pair of riding breeches and blouses.

Casting a cautious glance over her shoulder to ensure Cal wasn’t spying on her, she tugged the padded gown down to her waist, then shrugged on her white blouse. Sparing another wary glance in the direction Cal had gone, she shoved the gown and petticoats past her knees, then snatched up her breeches and boots. When dressed, she crammed the padded gown, undergarments and valuables she had retrieved from Cal earlier into her satchel.

She staggered backward a few steps when Cal rounded the corner and stopped short to gape at her. He regarded her with the same astonished expression that she had trained on him. In the matter of a few minutes they had both altered their appearance drastically.

It took some getting used to.

Cal had cast off the flashy vest, white shirt and trousers. Now an Indian headband, decorated with beaded designs, held his long hair away from his face. Although he wore a white man’s black shirt, his muscular legs were encased in buckskin breeches, leggings and moccasins.

An ammunition belt hung diagonally across his broad chest and the double holster rode low on his hips. He carried a bullwhip that was coiled over his left shoulder, and he had a sheathed dagger strapped to his right thigh.

Now who was the imposter? she wondered suspiciously. He didn’t look to be a full-blood Indian, though the sun had darkened his complexion. But he definitely dressed like an Indian. Whoever or whatever this man was, she had the inescapable feeling that he wasn’t the tumbleweed gambler that he had impersonated.

“Who are you?” Piper demanded when she finally recovered her powers of speech.

“Quinn Callahan,” he replied as he gave her the once-over-thrice. “I’m a Texas Ranger.”

His penetrating stare caused her to shift uneasily from one foot to the other. This was proof positive that her disguise had been a good idea. Thanks to her disguise, she hadn’t had to deal with speculative male stares during her journey.

Whoever Callahan really was, she didn’t believe for a moment that he was a Ranger. He looked more like a half-breed renegade to her. In addition, she wasn’t sure she could trust him not to take advantage of her vulnerability while they were alone in the wilderness.

He looked her up and down once again. His expression was so unreadable that she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking…or planning to do to her.

“I hope you’re packing hardware, Piper,” he said before he strode past her to retrieve a horse. “You won’t last a half a day in this wilderness, especially dressed in that garb. That getup advertises every feminine asset you have. If you come across any other men of less moral fiber than I have then whatever righteous virtues you might have left will be gone by nightfall. Guaranteed.”

“Which is why I relied on a disguise for my protection,” she pointed out. “I am not a complete fool, you know. I am fully aware that men are not to be trusted. They always want something from a woman.”

Quinn chastised himself for glancing over his shoulder to admire the appealing sight of this shapely female. She was right, he admitted to himself. He would like something from her, too, although he wouldn’t allow himself to yield to the temptation.

He made it a policy to avoid devious women whenever possible.

But the damnable truth was that Piper was the most strikingly attractive woman he had ever laid eyes on. Plus, every time he stared too long at her he lost his train of thought. That was not good.

Everything male inside him had responded fiercely the instant he rounded the bend of the road—and saw her standing where Agatha Stewart should have been. Agatha he could have handled. This woman he wasn’t so sure about. She was a distraction of the worst sort at the worst time.

“You don’t look like a Ranger,” she said doubtfully. “I want to see proof.”

It wasn’t the first time he had heard that demand. Quinn retrieved his sidearm from his left holster, then dug out the tarnished star that he only flashed about while making arrests. “This good enough for you? Or this…” He waved the small, leather-bound book in her face. “It’s a fugitive list that gives the names and descriptions of wanted criminals. All Rangers carry them.” He stared suspiciously at her. “I bet if I looked closely I could probably find you in it.”

“I am not on anyone’s wanted list. Well, except for perhaps—” She jerked up her head and glared at him. “Don’t try to sidetrack me, Cal. The point is that you could have stolen that badge and that little black book.”

“Right, just like you probably stole the money you’re carrying. My guess is that you trussed yourself up like an overweight old widow to conceal your identity and throw lawmen off track. Then you hopped a stage for parts unknown,” he countered. “Admit it, I’m right about you, aren’t I?”

She stamped her foot in frustration again. “No, you couldn’t be more wrong! I did not steal anything! And if you really are a Ranger then you should be more concerned about my welfare instead of threatening to abandon me!”

He tucked the silver star in his holster. “If you want sympathy and concern you’re barking up the wrong tree, lady. I already have an important assignment, and you aren’t it.”

Quinn released one of the horses hooked to the team, then grabbed his knife to cut off a section of the reins to fashion a harness. He had brought along his own bridle, anticipating that he would have to confiscate a horse. But Piper needed a means to control her mount when she rode off—in the opposite direction that he was headed.

He flicked her a quick glance, noting that watching him create a makeshift harness had distracted her. He rather thought she looked impressed by his adaptability. Not that he cared what she thought of him, of course. The sooner he ditched her the happier he would be.

“Here.” He thrust the reins at her. “This makeshift tack will get you to the next stage stop. You can catch the next westbound coach that comes through, if that’s what you want to do. It makes no difference to me.”

Leaving her holding the reins to the horse, Quinn fished into his saddlebags to grab his bridle and bit. Then he strode over to pick out a horse for himself.

“I will pay you to escort me to the next station,” she negotiated.

“With what? Stolen money?” He eased the bit into the horse’s mouth and placed the bridle in proper position. “No thanks. I have more pressing things to do besides play nursemaid to an imposter and thief.”

“I am not a thief!”

He derived tremendous pleasure in throwing her own words back in her face. “Fine, then prove it.”

She stalked over to station herself in front of him, determined to gain his undivided attention. His betraying gaze dropped to her heaving bosom and he cursed himself soundly for being the least bit attracted to a woman who was far more trouble and frustration than she was worth.

“I didn’t lie to you when I said I was bound for Fort Davis. I’m on my way to join my sister, Penelope. She is married to Captain Matthew Duncan. Part of the money and jewels I’m carrying are compensation for my sister.”

Okay, so maybe he could believe that part since her last wish—while she was dangling off the cliff—was to contact her sister. But Quinn had been fed so many concocted and convoluted lies in his day that he had learned never to take anyone at his word until checking the story thoroughly. He had no way of knowing how or where she had acquired the money and valuables.

“My charade as an elderly crone was for my own protection,” she repeated slowly and distinctly. “I am traveling without a chaperone and I was taking precautions so I wouldn’t invite trouble from untrustworthy men. Surely you can understand that my disguise was a necessary deception.”

She stared at him. “Especially since you were charading as a shiftless gambler.” She arched a challenging brow. “Double standards, Calvin? Hmm?”

Well, she had him there. But that didn’t change the fact that he had been traveling undercover on official business and now he had a ring of ruthless desperadoes to track down. He didn’t have the time or inclination to deliver Piper Whoever-She-Was to her sister. He knew she wasn’t being completely honest with him and he didn’t trust her, so he wasn’t going to bother with her.

Quinn figured Piper would be reasonably safe on the next leg of her westward journey. He couldn’t give her a guarantee, of course, because this isolated area of rugged mountains was home and hideout to all sorts of predators.

The bandits that had held up the stage had headed north, but that didn’t mean there weren’t smaller groups of desperadoes prowling the area. If she was lucky she might reach the next relay station without encountering difficulty.

He frowned thoughtfully. He would give her a fifty-fifty chance. He glanced at her appealing physique. On second thought, that was probably too optimistic.

Cutting away another section of the long reins, Quinn secured the leather strap around her horse’s girth, then tied her bulging satchel in place.

“I’ll give you a step up,” he offered, linking his fingers together to form an improvised stirrup.

She stared at him with those fascinating silver-blue eyes. “Perhaps we could compromise,” she suggested, flashing him a charming smile.

It was difficult not to respond to her smile, but he managed. “I never compromise. You start making exceptions then that’s all you get done. I was sent here to locate the outlaws’ hideout in this wild tumble of mountains so a Ranger battalion can attack. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Then I’m going with you. Once you have pinpointed the hideout, you can escort me to Fort Davis.”

He stared incredulously at her. The woman had gumption, he’d give her that. “Lady, I will be traveling across rugged terrain. I’m used to it. You aren’t. By dark you will be whining and complaining and I have heard enough of that while you posed as Agatha Stewart. The answer is no.”

When she refused to accept the step up that he offered, he hooked his arm around her waist and swung her onto the horse. “You can’t miss the relay station at Perdition Pass. It sits at the base of the canyon, directly beside the road. You can probably make it there a few hours after dark.”

He handed her one of his Colts. “Keep your eyes peeled for varmints. These craggy peaks and valleys are known for panthers, wolves, rattlesnakes and a few other—” His voice dried up when she turned his own firearm on him.

Just went to show you that offering an ounce of kindness to anyone in this part of the country could get you shot, he mused cynically.

“In case you’ve already forgotten, I saved your life an hour ago,” he muttered as he stared at the speaking end of his pistol, and then glared at her.

“You aren’t finished saving my life yet, Callahan. I am going with you or you are going with me, but I’m not venturing off by myself. When my veiled hat went over the cliff with the coach I lost a vital part of my protective disguise. I do not intend to become the target of every scoundrel I might encounter.” She poked him in the chest with his pistol. “You chose which direction we’re going first. But we are going together.”

Quinn knew he could disarm this feisty female in the time it took to blink. But damn if he knew why he allowed her to keep the upper hand. Maybe it was because she was so impossibly attractive that he liked looking at her. Maybe it was the prospect of sending her off alone to be hurt—or worse—that got to him.

If she did meet with disaster he would probably feel guilty as hell about it.

He didn’t have to be a fortune-teller to know that the kind of men who might cross her path would use and abuse her for their own lusty pleasure. And she was right. Trussing herself up in that padded black gown wouldn’t do her much good if she didn’t have the veiled hat to conceal her bewitching face.

“Well?” she demanded impatiently. “It’s your call.”

Piper was dismayed when he turned his back on her momentarily to retrieve his horse. He didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder. Obviously he didn’t believe she would gun him down. Which she wouldn’t have. That would have defeated her purpose of trying to hire a guide and protector.

Considering that she had never fired a weapon in her life, Piper didn’t like her chances of making the long ride to the next stage station if she might have to confront predators of the four-legged and two-legged varieties alone. She had no idea what awaited her and that made her apprehensive and twitchy.

The only logical solution was to stick with the irascible Quinn Callahan. And if he was a Ranger then she was better off with him than riding west alone, wasn’t she?

She watched Quinn fashion another strap to hold his saddlebags and bedroll in place before he hopped onto the horse. Then he leaned out to slap one of the spare horses on the rump, sending it galloping westward. The remaining horses followed suit and disappeared around the bend.

Piper extended the firearm to Quinn, butt first. “Here. I really hadn’t planned to shoot you,” she admitted.

“Nice to know,” he mumbled as he holstered his Colt.

He trotted the horse right past her without saying another word. She gaped at him, pretty certain this hard-hearted rascal was going to abandon her. She knew he didn’t like her. He didn’t trust her or believe her story, either. Damn him, he was going to leave her alone to face whatever calamity came her way.

Just when she had given up and decided that Quinn Callahan didn’t have one smidgen of conscience or humanity in him, he halted his horse before he veered around the outcropping of rock. He stared grimly at her.

“Looks like we’re stuck with each other,” he said sourly. “Are you coming or not?”

Relief washed over her like a tidal wave. When she smiled gratefully at him he scowled. Clearly, he was not pleased with his decision to allow her to tag along on his mission.

“What made you change your mind?” she asked as she trotted her horse up beside him, then called to the mutt to join them.

“Must have been what’s left of my conscience,” he grumbled resentfully. “But I’m telling you here and now that if I give you an order, then I expect you to obey without question. No exceptions.”

Piper bristled immediately. He sounded exactly like her domineering father who insisted that the world follow his master plan. No exceptions allowed.

He squinted at her and a ghost of a smile twitched his lips. “Figured you would have a problem with that.” He nudged his mount eastward. “Regardless, if I tell you to duck then I want you to flatten yourself over your horse. If I tell you to ride hell-for-leather then you do it.”

“For my own safety and protection,” she murmured, then flashed him a smile. “I can do that.”

Quinn scolded himself harshly when he felt himself melting beneath her radiant smile, which made her unique eyes sparkle like starlight. Damn it, he didn’t want to be distracted or affected by this female that he was obligated to drag along with him. He predicted she was going to wilt like a delicate rose after scrabbling over this rough terrain for hours on end. Then what was he going to do with her?

Face it, Callahan. You are responsible for her welfare whether you like it or not.

Which he definitely did not.

He would have liked to think that she might have made the long jaunt to the next stage station without mishap. That was wishful thinking and he wouldn’t want to bet her life on it, nuisance though she was to him.

Resigned to traveling at a slower pace to accommodate Piper, Quinn aimed his horse in the direction of the site where the robbery had occurred. He didn’t hear a peep out of Piper, thank goodness, when he picked up the pace to compensate for lost time.

Commander Scott Butler hunkered over his desk at Ranger headquarters in Austin and frowned pensively at the telegram Lieutenant Cooper had handed to him. “Kidnapped female,” he murmured. “Age twenty. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Likely traveling by train or stage.” He glanced up at the lieutenant. “That’s not much to go on.”

“No, sir,” Vance Cooper agreed. “All we know is that the girl’s father thinks her abductor might be headed to the Fort Davis area. But there is no explanation as to who might have absconded with her and why.”

“We have a battalion working out of Van Horn that might be able to begin a search,” Butler commented, then frowned when he recognized the name of the man whose daughter was reported missing. “Good God! Sullivan? No doubt, the girl is being held for ransom and Roarke will be expected to spend half his fortune, in hopes of getting his child back.”

“Sullivan, sir?” Vance Cooper repeated.

Butler nodded. “Extremely wealthy merchant from Galveston. Owns half the businesses in town and controls a freighting company that ships all over the world.” He frowned pensively. “We’ll start by requesting information at stage stations to find out if a woman was on board that matches this description.”

“We have Callahan in the field,” Cooper prompted. “He has been riding the stage back and forth between Fort Stockton and El Paso for two weeks, trying to locate the criminals that have been plaguing the area. Too bad we can’t get word to him. He’s the best tracker we’ve got.”

Commander Butler readily agreed with that. He had worked with his share of frontier fighters during his thirty-four years of service with the Rangers. There were several standouts in the rare breed of men who policed this wild country. Quinn Callahan headed up that list. He was tough, resilient, intelligent—and about as affable as a grizzly.

Butler smiled wryly. Cal was a lone wolf who wasn’t much for small talk and lacked polished social graces, but he was hell on outlaws. Cal had kept to himself until Taylor Briggs had befriended him and refused to be held at arm’s length.

Honest to God, Butler never had figured out why two men who hailed from completely different walks of life had become as close as brothers. Taylor could have talked your leg off if you let him and Cal barely gave you the time of day unless it was important that you knew it.

Damn shame about Taylor Briggs, he mused. The man had been a credit to his battalion—until he had tried to follow Cal’s practice of venturing off on his own to scout and track the desperadoes that had been robbing stages, banks and plundering ranches in southwest Texas.

“Have you received more information about the outlaws who decided to call themselves the Knights of the Golden Circle?” Butler questioned.

Cooper nodded his auburn head, his countenance grim. “The news isn’t good, sir. One of our men has been interrogating a suspected member who has been jailed in San Antone. According to the report, the Knights aren’t simply looting and plundering for personal gain. This outbreak of thievery is bait for a trap.”

Butler’s thick brows flattened. “What kind of trap?”

“Word is that a band of Mexicans have recently joined up with the Knights to sell stolen livestock over the border. The outlaws even disguise themselves as renegade Indians and depredate the frontier.”

“Well, hell,” Butler muttered.

“According to our informant, the plot is designed to draw the attention of our Ranger battalions,” Cooper continued. “The gang leaders are bent on revenge and they intend to kill as many of our men as possible because we have been making their lives miserable and arresting members of their group.”

When Cooper hesitated, Butler glanced up and scowled. “It gets worse?”

Cooper expelled an audible sigh. “We also have reason to believe that this organized ring is trying to bribe Rangers as informants and destroy our battalions from inside out.”

Butler swore foully. “If there is one thing I can’t tolerate it’s a traitor among our ranks. I have seen a few Rangers go bad in my day and I have taken particular pleasure in punishing every Judas that betrays the frontier justice system for personal gain.”

He pushed away from the desk and came to his feet. “Contact the battalion in San Antone and tell them to put the squeeze on our informant and convince him that he will be protected if he starts naming names.”

“Yes, sir.” Cooper gestured toward the telegram lying on the commander’s desk. “Do you want to send out a troop to search for this high profile kidnap victim?”

Butler shook his head. “I plan to oversee this request personally because the region where the woman might have been taken is the same area Callahan is working. That place is a hotbed of trouble. We might be able to provide reinforcements for Cal, if he is able to locate the outlaws’ stronghold. We can investigate the woman’s kidnapping at the same time.”