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BOOK: Carol Finch
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While Gideon monitored his brother’s retreat over the hill, Lori shifted restlessly. “Are you going to allow me to change clothes or not?” she asked irritably.

“Whatever you wish,” he said without glancing at her.

“Whatever
I
wish?” she smirked. “Since when did you give a damn about that?”

He clucked his tongue at her. “I’m trying to be nice to you to pacify my little brother—who’s obviously infatuated with you and has visions of adding his name to your list
of would-be fiancés. Unfortunately, your would-be fiancés have an unfortunate habit of dying on you.”

“That only happened once.”

“So it’s one hundred per cent of the time,” he didn’t fail to point out. “Now then, I’ll be on my best behavior if you’ll curb your sharp tongue.”

“Your best behavior?” she said, and scoffed. “On your best days, your behavior compares to everyone else’s bad day.”

He glared at her then remembered his promise. He flashed her one of his best smiles. “Deal or not, hellion?”

Lori blew out her breath. “Deal. Now kindly untie me so I can fetch my borrowed clothes.
Please.
And
please
forgive this slight delay,” she added in a syrupy tone. “I’ll make this as fast as possible.”

“How very considerate,” he said most politely, then dropped into an exaggerated bow.

Lori didn’t know which was worse—his teasing taunts or his exaggerated manners. God help her, she preferred fencing words with this sharp-witted, sharp-edged marshal. Who would have thought it? She must be a glutton for punishment.

She expected Gideon to fasten the humiliating leash to her wrists or ankles. He surprised her by directing her attention to the chin-high bushes that might serve as an improvised dressing screen.

“Thank you for that at least,” she murmured, begrudging his rare display of consideration.

“My pleasure, hell—”

When she arched a challenging brow, Gideon cleared his throat and said, “My pleasure, Miz Russell.”

“I’ll hurry, Marshal Fox.”

Although he didn’t turn his back, he accommodated
her by never allowing his gaze to drop below her neck while she peeled off her soggy clothes. Her face flushed, nonetheless, while she stood naked behind the bushes. A few minutes later, she stepped from the underbrush.

“You look very stunning,” he complimented. He grabbed a fresh set of dry clothes and a pair of moccasins from his saddlebags then headed for the bushes to change.

“Thank you, kind sir. I dressed especially for you.”

“I’m honored.” He reappeared in a clean set of clothing. “Now haul your shapely a—” His voice dried up when she arched her brow in challenge again. “I meant to say, let me help you onto your horse.”

Lori held out her hand, waiting for Gideon to boost her onto the saddle so her skirt wouldn’t swirl around her and expose body parts—ones Gideon had seen and touched all too intimately.
Don’t think about that,
she chided herself as he settled her effortlessly on her horse. She was never going to allow Gideon intimate privileges again. She was too susceptible, too vulnerable when he displayed his amazing brand of tenderness.

When Gideon trussed her feet to the stirrups and her hands to the pommel, she reminded herself not to expect the kind of consideration Glenn had offered. This was Gideon Rock-Hearted Fox, after all. He could only be nice to her for a little while and then he reached his limit.

 

Maggie Burgess seethed like the thunderstorm that loomed overhead. The flicker of lightning and grumble of thunder had nothing on her. Tapping her foot impatiently, she crossed her arms over her ample bosom and stared disapprovingly at the half-breed bounty hunter who had a habit of disappearing during the daylight hours then returning at night to roost like a pigeon. He never failed to show up for the evening meal she served at the stage station.

Reece McCree had been here a few days and had nothing to show for his nonchalant efforts. She was beginning to wonder if he were a shyster who took money from his clients without completing his cases. He was probably the one who spread the word that he was a reliable gun for hire.

She continued to glare at the approaching bounty hunter riding the bay horse she had loaned him. She thought it strange the man didn’t have a mount of his own. But she had been so desperate to find that witch and have her put away forever that Maggie hadn’t questioned why Reece was afoot.

“I don’t see how you can track down that vicious murderess when you don’t travel far from the stagecoach station and you’re back here to partake of my evening meals,” she grumbled as he dismounted.

Reece tapped a lean finger on the announcement Maggie had posted this morning beside the For Sale sign. “So now you’re
publicly
advertising a reward to capture the woman who killed your foreman?
After
you gave me a down payment?”

Lightning flashed and reflected in his unnerving silver-gray eyes. She involuntarily stepped back a pace. The man looked as dangerous as they came. Cool, calm and deadly.

“We had a deal,” he reminded her then lit his cigar. Smoke swirled around his face, making him appear even more devilish than usual. The thunderous sound effects didn’t help.

Maggie gathered her nerve and said, “We do have a deal, but I haven’t seen any results so I decided to offer a reward to whoever finds that murderess first. Is there some reason why you keep circling this area without heading
east? After all, that’s the direction she rode off, with my two hired hands hot on her heels.”

He puffed on his cheroot, as if he had all the time in the world and was contemplating whether to answer her. That annoyed her to the extreme. She’d worked her fingers to the bone—cooking, cleaning and tending horses while her two missing hired hands did only God knew what!
She
was paying Reece McCree to track Lorelei and his lackadaisical approach infuriated her.

“How many killers have you tracked?” he asked with enough sarcasm to ruffle her feathers all over again.

“None,” she snapped. “But I’m not a gun for hire, am I?”

“Then let me offer you some advice, in case you decide to take up my profession. Always assume the fugitive will circle back to where he or she feels safe and secure. With family, for example. Lorelei Russell’s father runs the trading post and ferry located ten miles from here. She’ll return to him eventually. I’d stake my reputation on it.”

“Fine. And when she does, then you can bring her to me, dead or alive. I prefer
dead.
After she worked her wicked wiles on my foreman for three months, she killed him. She’s made my life next to impossible because I’ve assumed responsibilities for my departed husband, my murdered foreman and the two hired hands who chased after Lorelei over a week ago. Now I have only one hired hand to help me with all my chores.”

Reece blew a smoke ring in the air and studied her so intently that she looked the other way. The man was unnerving, as if he could read her private thoughts.

“Not to worry,” he murmured. “I don’t plan to leave here until I find Tony’s killer.”

The casual use of Tony’s name took Maggie by surprise. “You knew him?”

He shrugged evasively. “A long time ago. In another place…and another way of life.”

The news startled Maggie. But then, she reminded herself that Tony rarely mentioned his past.

“I’m still investigating Lorelei Russell’s claim there was a bushwhacker hiding in the trees.”

Maggie scoffed at him. “I’m beginning to wonder if
you
shot Tony and showed up shortly thereafter. You’ve been hanging around here, taking advantage of my money, my cooking and my willingness to loan you a horse.”

The caustic remark didn’t set well with him. His silver-gray eyes narrowed on her and he loomed over her while lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rolled.

Finally, he said, “Speaking of horses, the one you loaned me isn’t swift of foot and spooks easily. Be a daisy and fetch me a reliable mount. I want the skewbald Pinto that belonged to your husband. The gelding looks like he has the stamina and endurance I require in a horse.”

“What happened to your horse?” she demanded.

“An outlaw shot it out from under me. It was the last thing he ever did…. So now I’ll take the skewbald as partial payment for solving this case.”

Maggie stood there, fuming at the half-breed bounty hunter’s audacity. The clatter of hooves and jangle of harnesses announced the arrival of the northbound stage, drawing her attention. When her lone employee, Sylvester Jenkins, limped from the barn with fresh horses, Reece released her from his piercing gaze, then glanced back at the attendant.

A moment later, he refocused his intense scrutiny on Maggie. “Now that the coach is here, what are we having for supper?”

As thunder boomed overhead, she gnashed her teeth and followed the exasperating bounty hunter into the station.
Damn the man, he was costing her money. She wanted this business concluded quickly so she could sell out, leave this godforsaken territory and move to a place where sophisticated culture prevailed.

Chapter Nine

T
he grumble of thunder prompted Lori to glance skyward. A bank of dark clouds piled up on the western horizon, ruining the view of a colorful sunset. Spring storms were prevalent in Indian Territory and Lori had grudging respect for them. She had suffered through dozens of them in her time. Usually she and her father were tucked safely in their living quarters on the second story of the trading post.

Now, however, she was traveling the rugged wilderness with Deputy U.S. Marshal
Thundercloud
himself. Yet, he’d become the personification of gentlemanly behavior and politeness—which didn’t suit him one bit. Abrupt and plainspoken was more his style. Lori tried to picture the rugged survivalist trussed up in the fancy trappings of a gentleman. The thought made her snicker. There was too much wild nobility stamped on Gideon’s features and too much brawn and muscle on his body to suit elegant attire.

“What’s so funny?” Gideon asked as he looked from
her to the dark clouds boiling and burgeoning to the southwest.

“Nothing.” She swallowed her amusement. “If it isn’t too much trouble, I wonder if I could prevail upon you to stop here for the night. I would appreciate a cleansing bath after wallowing in the muddy shallows with you earlier this afternoon.” She gestured her head toward the approaching storm. “It might be wise to eat supper before we’re drenched.”

“Then what’s the purpose of a bath?” he asked, eyeing her warily. “Planning to sneak off and use the rainstorm to cover your tracks?”

True, she’d considered it, but she suspected Gideon would delight in the challenge of recapturing her, then hold her head underwater until she cried uncle—or rather, his annoying version of it.

“Why no, dear Gideon,” she said with sticky sweet sarcasm. “You’d only hunt me down again. I know I’m no match for your scouting and tracking skills.”

“Damn right.” His brows flattened over his stunning blue eyes. “I may have to be nice to you, because I’ll have to deal with my little brother, your lovesick admirer, if I don’t. But I am not releasing you from custody.”

“Even when I prove that I’m innocent?”


If
you prove you’re innocent and I see the evidence.”

He dismounted then fondly patted Pirate. Lori was ashamed to admit she was envious of that eye-catching horse because Gideon showed more consideration and respect to him than he did to her. Except when lust got the better of him and he used her as a convenient outlet, she thought resentfully.

She wondered if he would turn his attention to Maggie Burgess when he interviewed her about Tony’s death. Maggie was attractive and male travelers always hovered
around her, vying for her attention. Gideon might even prefer the buxom brunette with her thick-lashed brown eyes. Well, he was welcome to her, thought Lori. She didn’t care one whit.

Her thoughts scattered when Gideon slid his hands around her waist and pulled her from the saddle. She hadn’t realized that he’d untied her ankles until he was pulling her down. He held on to her a moment longer than necessary, prompting her to stare quizzically at him.

Fierce, undeniable attraction slammed into her when she peered into his hypnotic blue eyes. The way the wind ruffled his raven hair tempted her to comb her fingers through those thick, wavy, collar-length strands. The brush of his masculine body against hers was an unnecessary reminder of how it felt to have him lying beside her, on top of her….

Lori stifled the betraying thoughts. She would not humiliate herself again. He didn’t like her. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t believe her story of innocence. Even the briefest of affairs would be a disastrous mistake because Gideon Fox was a lawman who traveled extensively to capture criminals. His home and his loyalty lay with his two brothers and Sarah. Lori would never have a place in his life.

She was nothing more than one of the many fugitives he transported cross-country.

Besides, she was all the family her father had. At least
he
needed and cared about her.

“About my bath,” she prompted, staring at the air over his head. “Perhaps if you had more rope you could tie my leash to a nearby tree while I’m in the river.”

He frowned when he noticed the raw skin left by the iron cuffs and rope leash. Muttering, he reached into his
saddlebag to retrieve a tin of poultice. To her surprise, he smoothed the soothing ointment on her wrists.

Uncomfortable with his sudden display of consideration—not the excessively polite variety he’d shown all day—Lori shifted restlessly beneath his tender ministrations.

“Old Osage remedy?” she guessed.

He nodded his dark head but remained focused on applying the salve. “Made from healing herbs that were combined and perfected so the recipe could be handed down through generations. My grandfather was known as a healer during the time when our people lived in Missouri and Kansas.”

He snorted disgustedly. “Of course, when whites invaded our land, the government offered a paltry sum for it then herded our people to this territory. We were confined like the other tribes that once possessed property the whites wanted. Then Osages were ordered to buy part of the land once delegated to the Cherokees, but we were forced to pay a much higher price than the government paid for our lost property.”

He scowled and added, “I’m not so naive to think that vocal protests from greedy whites won’t convince the government to open tribal land in Indian Territory for settlement. It’s only a matter of time.”

“You spurn the whites, but Glenn told me that you’re half French,” she remarked as she watched him rub the poultice on her left wrist.

“Don’t remind me. It’s our curse to bear,” he grumbled. “I will always be Osage at heart. The only reason I shortened our family name of White Fox was to avoid more ridicule from racist criminals. They call me a
breed,
a
redskin
and make derogatory comments, in hopes of annoying me into becoming reckless. But their ridicule lost its cutting edge years ago.”

“Gideon White Fox,” she murmured, trying out his name. “I like it. You should use it since it denotes your full heritage.”

His reply was a mumbled sound that could have meant anything. Of course, she didn’t expect Gideon to take any suggestion from her. She, after all, counted for nothing in his book.

When he removed the rope from her wrist, Lori gaped at him in surprise.

He stared her squarely in the eye. “If you take advantage of my consideration, you will pay severely. Remember that.”

“Don’t I know it. That tussle in the creek was bad enough. If you ever hold me down like that again—”

“You don’t like having a man on top of you?”

She glanced at him then frowned at the odd, searching expression in his eyes. He was throwing out something besides his usual taunt. This wasn’t about the dunking he’d used to break her resistance after he recaptured her.

“What do you want to know, Gideon?” she asked flat out.

“What method did you use to entice my little brother?”

She gasped, affronted. She was tempted to slap him for the insult, but he’d manacle her again she predicted. She knew Gideon believed she had slept with Tony. Now he suspected she had slept with Glenn to gain his cooperation. It was glaringly apparent what Gideon thought of her morals and character.

Without a word—for fear she’d rain down every curse and profanity she’d ever heard on his head once she got started—Lori wheeled around. She grabbed the breeches and shirt to wash then stormed toward the river. She hoped she could cool off before she confronted that cynical, mistrusting, suspicious lawman again. Otherwise, she was
going to wrestle him for possession of his firearm and let the bullets fly where they may.

 

While Lori bathed nearby Gideon glanced over to see her flaming red-gold hair and knew she hadn’t made a run for it—yet. He built a campfire so he could prepare their evening meal. What he really wanted to do was wander along the riverbank and look his fill at Lori’s naked body.

He wondered how much of her naked body Glenn had seen.

The thought put a scowl on his face. Wondering if Glenn had become more intimate with Lori than Gideon had been was driving him crazy. He’d worked up enough nerve to ask her earlier but the question had infuriated her and she’d refused to answer.

While the fire crackled and popped, Gideon glanced in Lori’s direction again. She was still in the water so he risked tramping off to scare up a rabbit for supper. He didn’t have far to go to find game. When he returned to camp, he didn’t see Lori and a moment of frustration hounded him. He relaxed when he saw her wet laundry draped over tree limbs. An amused smile pursed his lips when he noticed she’d confiscated one of his spare sets of clothing. The dark shirt and breeches swallowed her so she had rolled up the cuffs on the garments.

“I didn’t steal them. I only borrowed them,” she said as she approached. She had piled her wet hair atop her head, revealing the slender curve of her neck, and he longed to spread a row of kisses along her soft skin. “I’ll take care of skinning the rabbit while you’re bathing, Gideon. It’s one of my father’s favorite meals. He likes it better than frog legs and fried chicken.”

Gideon did something he swore he’d never do. He
retrieved one of his pearl-handled pistols and handed it to her instead of replacing the handcuffs. Stunned, she stared bug-eyed at him then looked at the weapon he’d placed in her hand.

“Just in case,” he said. “There are outlaws and four-legged predators lurking around Osage Hills.”

“Not everyone is an outlaw,” she said absently as she tested the weight and balance of his Peacemaker.

“If they’re white, there’s a strong possibility of it,” he replied cynically. “There are about twenty thousand of them roaming the territory and only a small percent are here legally. Most of them are wary of lawmen because they have something to hide.”

The grumbling thunder caught her attention and she gestured toward the boiling clouds. “If you plan to bathe you better do it quickly. We’ll be lucky to cook our meal before it starts raining. Oh, and gather my clothes off the tree branches on your way back, will you?”

He doubled at the waist in an exaggerated bow. “Anything else I can do for you, princess?”

She stuck her nose up in the air then flicked her wrist dismissively. “That will do. You can leave now.”

“What happened to you being nice to me?” he tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the river.

“If this is as nice as
you
get then this is as nice as
I
get.”

“Figured as much,” he mumbled as he walked away.

 

Lori monitored the storm, speculating that it had stalled somewhere near Russell Trading Post. It seemed to build on itself, gathering more strength.

That wasn’t a good sign. Once the storm began to move again it would cause downpours and fierce winds.

She stared eagerly at the meat roasting over the fire.
She had cut it into six portions, hoping it would cook faster on the makeshift skewers. With luck—and hers had been nothing to boast about lately, so she didn’t hold much hope—the food would be ready when Gideon returned from bathing.

She rose from a crouch to check on him. She gasped in shock when she saw him wade ashore, naked as the day he was born. He was facing the opposite direction but she still saw more of him than she needed to see. Her face blossomed with color but she couldn’t make herself look away from his sleek, bronzed, muscular body. She was fairly certain the image had burned into her eyeballs. Sweet mercy! What would it be like to see him walking naked
toward
her?

Flustered by the tempting thought, she focused her attention on the roasting meat. “No more speculations for you,” she scolded herself. “You’ve seen too much already.”

When she glanced southwest again, she noticed a curtain of rain sweeping across the rolling hills. Damnation, they were running out of time.

“Hurry up, Gideon!” she called loudly. “I’m starving and the storm is rapidly approaching.”

He reappeared from the shelter of the trees to gather her scattered garments then jogged toward her. She was sitting cross-legged in her baggy clothes when he reached camp. She glanced up at him, but she kept visualizing him naked, walking away from the water. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to douse the inflammatory image that had a profound effect on her body.

It didn’t help.

“Are you all right?” he asked, staring at her intently.

“Sure. I’m fine. Couldn’t be better,” she said with false enthusiasm. “Let’s eat, Marshal. We’re running short of time.”

He sat down across from her to remove the meat from the fire. They ate their meal, serenaded by grumbling thunder and the breeze that rustled through the surrounding trees.

“Have you decided where we will hole up during the storm?” she asked.

“No. I’m not as familiar with this section of the reservation. My people are from the Heart-Stays Clan. Not the Big Hills People who populate this area.”

Lori munched her food, swallowed then gestured uphill. “There is a cave on the ridge above us, but that doesn’t mean it’s unoccupied. We can fight whatever claims ownership, if the weather turns nasty.”

“It will,” he prophesied. “I can feel it in the muggy air.”

She nodded in agreement, realizing it was the first time they’d agreed on anything. “I can feel it, too.”

Lightning blazed across the sky and lit up the gathering darkness like the Fourth of July. The wind picked up and thunder rumbled overhead. Gideon bounded up to kick dirt on the fire and Lori lent assistance. While he dashed off to retrieve the grazing horses, Lori crammed her dry clothing in the knapsack Sarah and Glenn had provided.

With a stiff wind at their backs and a curtain of rain looming behind them, they scrambled up the rocky slope to determine who—or what—inhabited the cave.

“I suppose you’ve heard the tale about the creature that stalks Osage Hills, the one supposedly responsible for the mysterious disappearances of several people in the area,” Gideon commented.

Lori nodded grimly. “I’ve heard reports of people spotting the half-animal, half-human creature. Do you believe the story?”

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