Carol Finch - Lady Renegade

He scowled at himself. It was just that she fascinated him and he didn’t want to leave her here indefinitely to captivate one of the other lawmen to the point that he stole a few kisses and caresses from her. Plus, he didn’t want her to work her wiles on the other lawmen who might accompany her cross-country. There was no telling what might happen while she and one of his fellow marshals were alone.

“I must be out of my mind,” he growled to himself as he scooped up Lori and plunked her down on Drifter’s saddle.

All three marshals waggled their eyebrows and grinned speculatively. Gideon hated what they were thinking. But he couldn’t leave her behind. He felt so conflicted he wanted to swear two blue streaks. Nevertheless, he clamped down on his tongue, ignored the taunting stares and mounted Pirate.

While Glenn took the lead, and Gideon held the reins to Lori’s strawberry roan gelding, the procession headed north. Twenty minutes later, Glenn dug into his saddlebag and leaned over to offer Lori a slice of home-cooked bread and a stick of beef jerky. She smiled gratefully as she accepted the food with her bound hands.

“Thank you, Glenn. Truth is that I’m famished. I’ve been living in a cave for several days with little nourishment.”

Gideon shifted uncomfortably in the saddle when Glenn stared disapprovingly at him. However, in his defense, Gideon had been busy interrogating Pecos Clem’s cohorts and tracking down the dangerous fugitive. Then he’d spent the day trying to ignore a woman who posed so much temptation that he’d broken his rule about becoming involved with any prisoner—especially a woman prisoner—and stopped just short of burying himself in her lush body in a weak, mindless, lusty moment.

Sweet mercy! What had he been thinking?

“Surely you don’t think she’s guilty of anything except being too beautiful for her own good,” Glenn murmured for his ears only.

“I have a good deal more experience with fugitives and their melodramatics than you do,” Gideon said confidentially. “You start believing every sad tale someone tells and you could wind up shot, stabbed or knocked unconscious, while your fugitive makes a fast getaway and leaves you for dead.”

Glenn glanced over at Lori and smiled longingly. Gideon had to admit that she looked exceptionally fetching with her flame-gold hair dancing in the breeze and the sun spotlighting her beguiling figure. He knew from personal experience that staring into her alluring features and getting lost in those entrancing golden eyes could make a man believe what she wanted him to believe.

Clearly, Glenn had made a snap judgment. Thanks to encouragement from his lusty male body, he’d decided Lorelei Russell was a victim of circumstances beyond her control. Certainly not a murderess with a hefty reward on her head.

A lot the kid knew, Gideon mused sourly.

“What can you tell me about the horse thieves?” Gideon asked, hoping to distract his moon-eyed brother.

“Not much to tell,” Glenn replied then bit into Sarah’s mouthwatering bread. “It happened last night. We heard the horses stamping around in the corral and we dashed outside to check on them. The thieves wore bandannas over their faces and they started shooting. Unfortunately, Galen was in the direct line of fire.”

“What kind of horses were they riding?” Gideon asked. “Did you notice any brands?”

Glenn shook his head, munched on his food and frowned thoughtfully. “Just brown horses, I guess. It was dark and foggy, but I didn’t see any brands…. More bread, ma’am?”

Gideon sighed in exasperation while Glenn smiled and extended more food to Lori. She graced Glenn—the smitten fool—with a dazzling smile that practically outshone the sun.

“Thank you, Glenn. It’s very generous of you to share your food with me. I appreciate it.”

My, she was pouring on the charm, wasn’t she? If Gideon had to listen to much more of this sticky sweetness he’d have a toothache. And Glenn had an idiotically happy expression on his face that made him look about twelve.

“No trouble, ma’am. Shame on Gid for not offering you food until now.”

“Please call me Lori,” she insisted, casting him another dimpled smile.

Glenn bowed from the saddle, looking as charming and rakish as Gideon had ever seen him. “Lori it is. Where do you hail from?”

Gideon thought he was going to be sick. Nonetheless, he remained silent while Lori filled Glenn in on her life story. The cynic in Gideon wondered how much truth there was to it. He tried to pretend he wasn’t listening and didn’t give a damn, but he was curious about her.

“My father was a lieutenant colonel in the army and we moved from one post to another for years. I was eleven when I lost my mother and younger brother to a diphtheria epidemic. Papa said he couldn’t be around military posts without the memories of Mama breaking his heart. He acquired a special trader’s license and we opened a trading post in the Osage Nation. When the number of travelers increased and the stage company wanted to provide service in the Pawnee Nation to the south we staked the river to provide ferry service.”

She smiled at Glenn again and ignored Gideon as if he were invisible. “What about you and your family, Glenn?”

“Our father was a French trapper,” he replied. “Our mother was full-blood Osage. I was twelve when someone killed our father and stole his furs while he was on his way to Rendezvous.”

“I’m sorry,” Lori commiserated. “It’s difficult to lose a loved one.”

“Yes, it is,” Glenn murmured. “Out of loneliness and desperation, my mother remarried two years later.”

“Unfortunately, the abusive bastard played the role of the attentive suitor convincingly…until he got what he wanted. A place to stay and rapport with our people so he could cheat us all,” Gideon added bitterly.

“I’m sorry about that, too,” Lori murmured.

“He was the one who was sorry,” Glenn remarked. “He shoved our mother during one of his mean drunks. When she hit her head and collapsed, he left her to die. Gideon went after him. He’d been working with the Osage Police to support our family and he tracked down our stepfather. The fool tried to shoot Gideon out of the saddle.”

Lori glanced curiously at Gideon. “Were you injured?”

He nodded. “I took a gunshot in the thigh.”

“But he put our stepfather down and the bastard didn’t get up again,” Glenn said grimly. “Gideon became brother, mother and father to Galen and me after that.”

Lori wondered if Gideon’s abusive stepfather was the first fatality of his job as a law enforcement officer. But she didn’t ask. Both men lapsed into silence for several minutes after telling the grim tale.

When she glanced at Glenn, he was staring at her with masculine appreciation. Even if his cynical older brother didn’t trust her, Glenn seemed willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Too bad he wasn’t a marshal who’d listen to her story and agree to open an investigation.

“What do you do these days, Glenn?” she inquired as she resettled herself more comfortably in the saddle.

“I help Galen with the horses and other livestock. I do most of the field work while he’s on police duty on the reservation.” He glanced quickly at Gideon then looked away. “I want to serve with the Osage Police like Galen, and like Gideon did before Judge Parker recruited him to be a Deputy U.S. Marshal.”

“So why haven’t you?” she questioned.

He hitched his thumb toward Gideon. “Because my big brother says having two brothers being shot at on a daily basis is enough. But it turns out I’m as good a shot as Gid, not that it matters to him.”

Gideon barked a laugh. “Not even on your good day, kid. When you can hit a target, backward and blindfolded, we’ll talk.”