Carol Finch (13 page)

Home again,
Lori mused as she stared uphill at the trading post. She saw the flickering lantern light in her father’s upstairs bedroom, shining like a beacon. Bubbling with emotion, she pivoted to fling her arms around Gideon’s
neck. Impulsively, she planted a loud, smacking kiss on his lips.

“Shhh!” he hissed when she allowed him to come up for air. “What the hell was that for?”

“For allowing me to come home to reassure my father that I’m all right.” She kissed him again. “And that’s for opening your mind to the possibility that I might be telling the truth and for coming to investigate.”

“You’re welcome, hellion.” He bent her over his arm to deliver a lip-sizzling wallop of a kiss that left her hungry for more. When his caresses moved possessively over her, she arched into him, aching to rediscover the amazing pleasure she had experienced with him the previous night.

“What are the chances of your father allowing us to share the same bedroom?” he mumbled against the pulsating vein of her throat.

“None whatsoever.”

“Figured as much.”

He stepped away long before she wanted to let him go. Inhaling a steadying breath, she grabbed Drifter’s dangling reins and headed toward the stone-and-timber trading post she’d called home for a dozen years.

A moment after she stepped into the clearing between the ferry and post, a gunshot shattered the peaceful darkness.

“Ooofff!” Lori grunted uncomfortably when Gideon launched himself at her, knocking her to the ground and covering her body protectively with his.

His pistol cleared leather before she could blink and he fired off a shot.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Lori erupted as she tried to buck him off.

He came onto his knees, his gaze still focused on
the clump of weeds and trees near the river. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t try to protect me from gunfire,” she grumbled as she came up on her hands and knees. “That’s what got Tony killed, and I refuse for that to happen to you. I told you already, one death on my conscience is plenty. I don’t want yours, too.”

“Can we argue about this later,” he said absently as he scanned the area. He moved in a low crouch to approach the sniper’s hiding place. “And stay put, damn it.”

Huffing out a breath, Lori came to her feet to duck behind the nearest tree. In the moonlight, she watched Gideon move stealthily toward the place where she had seen the flare of gunpowder and puff of smoke.

A moment later, her father flung open the door. “Who’s there?” he called anxiously.

“A weary traveler,” Gideon called back to ensure Lori didn’t commit the critical mistake of answering her father and inviting more gunfire. Who knew how many bounty hunters were waiting in the darkness to pick her off. “I need food and supplies for my journey south.”

A minute passed before Gideon returned to Lori then grabbed Pirate’s reins. “Whoever took that shot is hell and gone already, but that doesn’t mean he’s alone or he hasn’t shifted position. I’ll check for discharged cartridges and tracks in the morning. The bad news is that whoever took the shot knows you’ve returned home,” he told her grimly. “This is where
I
’d lie in wait if I knew where you lived.”

The comment assured Lori that she’d be dodging bullets in the near future. Gideon had prophesied bounty hunters and fortune hunters would lurk about, waiting to collect the reward on her head.

She wondered how much she was worth.

Well, I’ll worry about that tomorrow,
she decided as she approached her father anxiously.

“Stay behind me,” Gideon ordered as he took the lead. “Even better, try to become invisible.”

Lori leaned heavily against Drifter’s side as she made her way toward her father. Excitement roiled inside her and she involuntarily quickened her step. Gideon reached over to slow her down.

“Be careful,” he cautioned. “I’ll use the horses to block you from any prying eyes in the bushes. I don’t want you to end up dead on your doorstep. That’s guaranteed to ruin your father’s evening.”

Gideon could feel the tension in Lori’s arm as they approached the tall, lean, older man. He was a few inches shorter than Gideon, and he looked to be in his late forties. He carried himself with the proud military bearing of an officer.

Sandy blond hair capped his square face. His jaw was rimmed with whiskers that looked to have been growing for about the same length of time Lori had gone missing.

“Move aside, please, sir,” Gideon commanded. “I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Gideon Fox.”

“Clive Russell,” Lori’s father introduced himself quickly.

His hazel eyes widened when he saw Lori sandwiched between the two horses. Thankfully, he didn’t dash toward her. He backed away as Gideon requested.

The moment Gideon escorted Lori through the door and shut it behind them she flew into her father’s outstretched arms.

“Thank God!” Clive gushed as he hugged the stuffing out of Lori. “I’ve been worried sick about you, sugar. Maggie Burgess is so convinced that you shot Tony that she’s posted Wanted posters at every stage station along
the route. She’s offering a reward for your capture. You’ve become notorious in less than two weeks!”

Gideon watched as the emotional reunion continued for several minutes. While father and daughter exchanged whispered conversation, he surveyed the trading post. It was full of shelves lined with neatly organized stacks of various and sundry supplies to satisfy travelers and local residents. Obviously, the Russells were successful at business. Plus, the building was clean, spacious and tidy. Not like some he’d visited in other parts of the territory.

“What about supper?” Clive asked Gideon as he tucked Lori protectively against his side. “Have either of you eaten yet?”

“We had hard tack during the ride,” Gideon reported. “But that was several hours ago.”

Clive smiled broadly and Gideon noticed a family resemblance. “I’m indebted to you for returning my daughter safely to me, Marshal Fox. With your authority in the territory maybe we can find out who really shot Tony.”

The man had no doubt whatsoever that Lori was completely innocent, despite not hearing any of the details. Gideon would never trust so blindly or unequivocally. And for good reason. Outlaws were liars, cheaters, thieves and often cold-blooded murderers. But he had to admit that his opinion of Lori had changed drastically over the past few days. Yet, the cynical voice inside his head kept asking if he’d allowed himself to be seduced into giving this beguiling female the benefit of every doubt.

Even as Clive tucked Lori possessively beside him, Gideon felt the insane urge to grab her hand and lead her away to treat himself to another helping of her addictive kisses and caresses. He chastised himself for not waylaying her this afternoon so he could enjoy the erotic pleasure they had shared the previous night in the cavern.

The titillating thought sent a jolt of fiery desire sizzling through him. Gideon shifted uncomfortably from one booted foot to the other.

“I’ll tend the horses if you’ll tell me where I can stable them for the night,” he eagerly volunteered.

“I’ll take care of—” Lori tried to offer but Clive interrupted with a slashing gesture of his arm.

“You are staying inside so no one else can take more potshots at you.” Clive’s blond brows flattened over his hazel eyes. “I’ll show Gideon where to put the horses while you round up something to eat.”

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant Colonel, sir,” she said, giving him a snappy salute. Then she wheeled like a soldier on parade and marched to the kitchen. “So she
can
follow orders,” Gideon said to himself. “Just not mine.”

Reece McCree lit his cigar and puffed on it until a wreath of smoke floated in front of him. “Well, well, Gideon Fox. Long time no see,” he murmured as he stood at a distance.

He had held his position, watching the shapely flame-haired woman dash through the front door, with Fox guarding her back. When Fox closed the door on what Reece predicted to be an emotional family reunion, he puffed on his cheroot. His gaze shifted to the lantern light glowing in the second story window. He debated with himself about scaling the rock-and-timber walls.

When the front door of the trading post opened a few minutes later, Fox and Lorelei’s father exited to tend the horses. Reece smiled slyly. This was the perfect time to make Lorelei’s acquaintance—without the inconvenience of having Gideon Fox breathing down his neck.

Crushing the cheroot beneath his boot heel, Reece
tethered his horse a safe distance away. Then he moved silently toward the side of the trading post, looking for the shortest route to an upstairs window.

After Lori’s playful, military-style retreat to the kitchen, Clive grinned good-naturedly. “My daughter is a handful.” He grabbed Drifter’s reins and led the way to the oversize barn. “Feisty and independent to a fault, too.”

“I’ve noticed,” Gideon said. “We’ve clashed a time…or three.”

“I won’t apologize for raising Lorelei to be self-reliant and spirited,” Clive declared. “I’ve met too many timid females in my time. They were never allowed to develop minds of their own or interesting personalities.” He smiled ruefully. “Lorelei is like her mother in appearance and disposition. To tell the truth, there are times when I notice that Lorelei’s expression or gesture is so similar to her mother’s that it nearly breaks my heart.”

No doubt, Clive had never recovered from the grief of losing his beloved wife all those years ago. Gideon wondered what it would be like to care so deeply and devotedly for a woman that her absence in his life left him without a heart beating in his chest. Not that he had much of a heart left these days—at least in the eyes of fugitives that called him a heartless devil.

“Do you know of anyone around here who might have held a grudge against Anthony Rogers?” Gideon asked as they strode into the barn.

“One or two, I suppose. There are always hired hands that covet a better position on the job.”

“Do you know Teddy Collins and Sonny Hathaway very well?”

“Not well enough to predict whether they would ambush their boss to take his place at the station and ranch.”

“After they chased Lori and couldn’t locate her within a few days, they decided to steal my family’s prize livestock,” Gideon remarked as he unfastened Pirate’s girth strap. “By the way, your training paid off. Your daughter avoided her would-be captors with relative ease.”

Clive chuckled. “But she couldn’t match your skills, I take it, since she didn’t return home alone.”

“She came to me for assistance, but I wasn’t sure I believed her story. A messenger arrived in marshals’ camp, offering a very different account than she told. There’s also a high price on her head.”

Clive’s expression sobered as he stared intently at Gideon. “But you believe her, don’t you?”

Gideon pulled the saddle from Pirate’s back. “I’m a cautious man whose been bombarded with countless false claims of innocence from the guilty-as-sin outlaws I’ve tracked down.”

“But she’s a woman,” Clive reminded him—as if Gideon didn’t know that all too well.

“So is Belle Starr. She has a long list of crimes to her credit. Only now are she and her husband, Sam, serving a nine-month sentence for horse thieving. But in the past, she’s gotten off on technicalities by hiring expensive lawyers and paying them with stolen money. I transported her to Fort Smith to face Judge Parker once myself. She offered me all sorts of incentives to look the other way while she escaped.”

Gideon clamped his lips together and mentally kicked himself for not shutting up one sentence sooner.

Clive glanced speculatively at him and frowned. “And do you
demand
or
invite
favors to give leniency to your prisoners, especially those of the female persuasion, Marshal?”

He’d known that was coming before Clive spewed out
the question. Gideon didn’t want to answer, for fear he’d incriminate himself.

“Well?” Clive prodded, staring at him in consternation. “We are discussing my daughter. If you resorted to asking for favors in exchange for bringing her home and investigating the charges against her, I want to know and I want to know now!”

L
ori sighed contentedly as she fried steak and potatoes in the skillet. She’d never been so glad to be home. She still faced an uphill battle, but at least her father knew she was safe and Gideon had opened that steel trap he called a mind to the possibility that she might be telling the truth about that awful incident that took Tony’s life.

Humming a soft tune, Lori hurried to the cellar to fetch a jar of beans that she had canned the previous summer. When she returned to the kitchen, she heard an unidentified creak from the second floor. Warily, she stared up the staircase leading to their private quarters.

Then she glanced expectantly toward the front door. She had been perfectly serious when she’d told Gideon that she didn’t want anyone to take a bullet for her. Tony would be alive today if he hadn’t tried to be so blasted noble. No one was going to fight her battles for her, she vowed as she set aside the steaks and potatoes.

Lori grabbed the pistol her father kept stashed beneath the counter, then headed quietly toward the staircase. She
knew which steps didn’t creak and which ones did. She was careful to avoid them during her ascent. Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribs, but she reminded herself that Gideon faced this sort of danger on a regular basis.

So had her father during his stint in the army.

Her father hadn’t raised her to be a simpering female who stood aside and waited for a man to protect her. She intended to protect the two most important men in her life because she loved them both—

Dear God!
she thought with a start that nearly caused her to miss a step. Was she really in love with that hard-edged, cynical marshal? When had that happened? Why had she allowed it to happen? She knew Gideon was simply using her as a pleasurable diversion. She was convenient. No more. No less. And
still
she’d allowed her foolish heart to enter into that steamy, wildly erotic tryst one dark and stormy night. Gideon Fox, it turned out, was the only man who set fire to her desires and compelled her to live in the moment, for as long as it lasted. Defying all consequences.

Lori willfully cast aside the unsettling epiphany that took the worst of all possible moments to reveal itself. She had the sneaking suspicion that someone was upstairs and she needed to concentrate on nothing but the potential threat awaiting her.

When she reached the landing, her courage faltered. Maybe she should have waited for Gideon and her father. But no,
she’d
decided to be the protector. She wanted to prove she was brave enough to face unseen danger the way Gideon and her father did.

Cautiously, she glanced down the shadowed hall, but she’d taken only one step forward when someone pounced from the darkness. Fear blazed through her when a man’s powerful body slammed her broadside, knocking her off
balance. He wrenched the pistol from her hand before she could turn it on him.

She tried to scream bloody murder, but he clamped his gloved hand over her nose and mouth, making it difficult to breathe. She bit into his fingers as he dragged her into the nearest bedroom—the one that belonged to her father. The man growled in pain when she bit a chunk from his finger but he refused to remove his hand.

Instead, a long-bladed knife appeared in his free hand. He laid it against her throat and said, “Do that again, wildcat, and you’ll be bleeding all over the carpet. If you keep quiet, I’ll spare the marshal and your father. If not…”

His hushed voice trailed off, leaving her to speculate on the grim possibilities in store for Gideon and her father. The vivid memory of watching Tony collapse and die was too fresh in her mind. She stilled instantly in the circle of her captor’s unyielding arms.

“You’re worth a lot of money, but I still want to hear the boiled-down version of
your
side of the story,” her brawny captor demanded in a hushed tone. When he settled his arm diagonally across her breasts she struggled against him—and felt the sharp prick of his dagger.

“Easy now,” he murmured. “Tell me what happened.”

That he was willing to listen to what she had to say surprised and confused her. But when he moved his hand so she could speak, she responded hurriedly. “I was talking with Tony when someone tried to shoot us from the bushes.”

“Did you see who it was? Could you identity this supposed bushwhacker?” he questioned intently.

Lori frowned. Something about the man’s tone puzzled her. She couldn’t put her finger on why the questions sounded odd. However, she was too overwhelmed with
fear to question him, especially since he held a knife to her throat.

“No, I didn’t see who took the three shots at us. Whoever it was hid in the thick underbrush, and darkness was closing in quickly. Tony stepped in front of me to shield me. His self-sacrificing deed cost him his life.
I didn’t kill Tony,
” she said adamantly. “He was my friend.”

“I heard that he was your lover,” her captor contradicted. “You killed him because he rejected you.”

“You heard wrong,” Lori insisted. “He asked me to marry him and to leave the territory. I got the impression he was in some sort of trouble or he was on the run from the law. Perhaps he suspected he was about to be captured and he felt compelled to escape immediately.”

The man’s grasp eased ever so slightly. “You think he
knew
someone from his past was about to catch up with him?”

She nodded—or at least as much as the knife at her throat allowed. “I believe he planned to leave, with or without me.”

“Why did you refuse to go with him?”

“Because I didn’t love him. I wished I did, though.”

“So you just led him on, is that it?” he asked sharply.

Honestly, there was something about this mysterious intruder that reminded her of Gideon, in size and extraordinary skill. And that made him a formidable enemy. This man was cautious by nature and habit and he posed intimidating questions meant to rile her temper—just like Gideon.

“I didn’t lead him on,” she insisted. “I cared about him and I intend to avenge his death—”

When her captor made the crucial mistake of relaxing his grip, she exploded into action. She shoved the heel of her hand against his wrist, forcing the blade away from
her throat. With lightning quickness, she used her elbow to deliver a sharp blow to his crotch. He doubled over, grunted in pain then cursed her soundly as he staggered backward.

She tried to make a run for it but he grabbed her hair and gave it a quick jerk to maintain control of her. But Lori had found herself in tussles with drunken men on numerous occasions and she knew how to defend herself. She’d even gotten in a few good blows on Gideon because he hadn’t given her full credit for her training in self-defense—thanks to her father’s relentless instructions.

Lori yelled at the top of her lungs and spun out of her captor’s reach. When he tried to recapture her, she groped in the dark for any object that might become an improvised weapon. She latched onto the coatrack beside the door and swung it sideways to catch the man upside the head. While he stumbled backward, stunned and disoriented, Lori screamed a few more times for good measure, hoping he would dart away.

Scowling, he wheeled toward the window. In the moonlight, she noticed his collar-length hair and muscular build. Of course, she’d been vividly aware of his strength since he had clamped hold of her.

“We’ll meet again, wildcat,” he assured her gruffly. “And next time I’ll be better prepared to deal with you. Your father and the marshal won’t be nearby. Count on it.”

He slung his leg over the windowsill and disappeared from sight. Lori turned and ran to safety, then cursed herself for not slamming down the window sash on the man’s hands while he hung on the outer wall.

Well, it was too late for that now, she mused as she took the steps two at a time to return to the kitchen. Her survival instincts had kicked in and put her to flight. Even as she
huddled in the kitchen with knives in both hands, she could still hear the mysterious man’s vow wringing in her ears.

He’d return if she made the careless mistake of venturing away from Gideon and her father’s protection.

In other words, he’d be watching and waiting.

The realization that the darkness had eyes made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Clive stood in the barn, bristling with a father’s indignation about the possibility of his daughter’s damaged virtue. Gideon scrambled to find a tactful reply so he and Clive wouldn’t come to blows.

Lori’s wild scream shattered the brittle silence in nothing flat.

Gideon lurched around and dashed to the trading post. Hell and damn, one of them should’ve remained with her, he scolded himself.

If Lori had been abducted or injured because of Gideon’s careless neglect, he’d never forgive himself. He knew better, damn it. Yet, he’d broken his own rules so many times where Lori was concerned that he was in danger of tarnishing his spotless reputation as a Deputy U.S. Marshal.

However, his pride and reputation weren’t his main concern as he sprinted to the trading post. He bounded onto the porch, bypassing the steps, and barreled through the door. Both pistols drawn, he was prepared to shoot anything that moved—except Lori.

If
she were still here.
If
she were still alive.

The unnerving thought hit him so hard he practically stumbled over his own feet. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave when he saw Lori scurrying from the kitchen with two knives clenched in her fists. Her face was as white as flour and a dribble of blood trickled down her neck.

She dropped the knives and flew into his arms. Gideon
held her close as he pointed his weapons in every direction, expecting attack.

“What happened?” he panted, out of breath—not from the mad dash but from fear for her life. His heart was bouncing around in his chest, nearly beating him to death! Being afraid for someone else was a new experience. He didn’t like it a damn bit.

“A man came through the upstairs window to grab me.”

Gideon swore mightily, uncaring if Clive—who came through the front door, breathless and wild-eyed—took offense when he saw Gideon cuddling Lori close.

“What the hell were you doing upstairs in the first place, damn it?” Gideon demanded harshly.

“I didn’t want anyone shot on my account.” She raised her chin to defy the two disapproving glares directed at her. “I keep telling you that Tony was one too many. I am
not
risking either of you, and I damn well mean it!”

“It’s
my
job to take risks,” Gideon told her sharply.

“I don’t care if it’s a direct order from the Lord above,” she countered hotly then stared down Clive. “Same goes for you, Papa. I can take care of myself and I escaped tonight without help from either of you.”

“Right. Never mind that Clive and I nearly suffered heart seizure when we heard you scream,” Gideon muttered caustically as he headed for the steps. “Did you get a good look at your captor? Can you identify him?”

“He was about your size and height,” she reported as she followed him up the staircase. Clive was two steps behind her. “He grabbed me in the darkness then fired questions about the night Tony died. He seemed exceptionally intent on hearing what I had to say about a possible bushwhacker. He wanted to know if I saw the supposed sniper and if I could describe him.”

Gideon frowned, bemused. “You mean, as if it mattered if you could positively identify the sniper? As if
he
might be the sniper and wondered if he needed to dispose of an eyewitness?”

Lori blinked. “I believe you might be right. I wasn’t thinking straight at that unsettling moment, but something bothered me about his peculiar questions. He was intent on knowing everything I knew about Tony and the shooting.”

“Do you think he really might be the sniper?” Clive questioned. “The less you know, Lori, the safer you’ll be.”

“If that’s true then he knows I can’t identify him. Maybe that’s why he exited the window without trying to dispose of me. I put up a fight and escaped but he could have shot me if that had been his intent.”

“Lori, for God’s sake,” Clive howled in dismay. “You shouldn’t have fought back! You might have provoked him to kill you for being so much trouble!”

Gideon wanted to rail at her, too, but Clive was doing a bang-up job for the both of them. Gideon swore colorfully to himself as he stared out the window into the darkness. The thought of a prowler scaling the outer wall and capturing Lori unnerved him.

He’d faced the prospect of his own death so many times over the years that he’d grown accustomed to danger. But the prospect of
Lori
dying during his watch rattled him to no end. If this feisty, independent hellion wasn’t out there in the world somewhere… Well, it wouldn’t be the same.
He
wouldn’t be the same because she’d imbedded herself in his memory and she’d touched emotions that he’d buried beneath cool, callous reserve for over a decade.

“I’m going outside to look around,” Gideon announced as he spun away from the window.

“No, you aren’t. Supper is ready.” Lori stood in his path like an immovable obstacle.

He tried to stare her down, but knew she wouldn’t step aside.

“Fine. Supper sounds great,” he said with false enthusiasm.

She spun on her heels to lead the way downstairs while Gideon cursed himself for giving in to her—again. He also cursed his unruly male body for focusing on the hypnotic sway of her hips while his mind transported him back in time to relive the night he’d shared indescribable passion with Lori.
Damnation,
he thought.
I’m getting in so deep with her that I’ll never find my way out…
And he wondered if he cared if he ever did….

“You didn’t answer the question I asked in the barn,” Clive reminded Gideon the moment he returned from scouting the area after their late supper.

“Damn, back to that again,” Gideon mumbled under his breath as he closed the front door behind him.

“Papa, it’s been a long, tedious journey.” Lori ambled over to latch onto Clive’s arm and guide him toward the staircase. “The marshal and I are exhausted. Let’s save further conversation for tomorrow, shall we?”