Carol Finch - Lady Renegade

“You hear what I said, Injun?” Clem ridiculed. “I—”

His voice trailed off at the same moment that Gideon noticed movement in the shifting fog. The sun broke free briefly, leaving a pocket of light shimmering on the hillside. A shapely female in her early twenties emerged from the hazy shadows of trees and underbrush. Her long curly hair caught in the sparkling sunlight and danced like red-and-gold flames.

She was tall—maybe five foot six inches, he guessed. Plus, she was all too alluring in brown, trim-fitting breeches that accentuated the shapely curve of her hips and the white shirt that molded itself provocatively to her full breasts.

He blinked twice, wondering if he was seeing a mirage or some sort of mystical apparition. The shifting fog and glittering spears of sunlight gave the woman an ethereal quality impossible to ignore. The world seemed eerily still and Gideon stood transfixed. Even Pecos Clem seemed too dazed to attempt escape while Gideon was hopelessly distracted.

Honest to goodness, Gideon had never seen a woman so captivating and alluring in all his thirty-two years of vast and varied experience. If there were white men’s angels sent down from above, he’d like to think this was what an angel looked like. Either that or she was one of the Indian spirit guides he’d heard described by his Osage mother.

And yet, a quiet voice inside his head whispered, Here comes trouble, and the cynic he’d become paid close attention.

“Gideon Fox?” Her voice floated toward him on the slightest hint of a breeze.

How’d she know my name? he asked himself, stunned.

Gideon spoke not a word while the woman moved gracefully toward him. When she came close enough for him to make out her facial features, which were surrounded by that shiny mass of flame-gold hair, the astonishing sight of her stole his breath right out of his lungs. Alert golden eyes, rimmed with a thick fringe of black lashes, focused intently on him. She had a creamy complexion, a pert nose and plump pink lips ripe for kissing.

Hell and damn! He couldn’t recall another time in his life when he’d been so awed by the sight of a woman. He couldn’t seem to look away, just stood there wondering if he had set off a trip wire, died and ended up on the spiritual pathway to the Osage Afterlife and didn’t know it yet.

“Are you real?” Clem chirped, obviously as hypnotized as Gideon by the unexplained appearance of the bewitching creature that had materialized out of nowhere.

She glanced at Clem for a half second then fixed those captivating golden eyes on Gideon and said, “My name is Lorelei Russell and I need your assistance, Marshal Fox.”

The fairy-tale image shattered like broken glass. Gideon had heard that name the previous day in marshal camp. A messenger had arrived to alert the lawmen that a woman had murdered her lover then fled into the rugged Osage Hills. Apparently, she hadn’t realized the network of information passed quickly among the roaming bands of deputy marshals who patrolled Indian Territory.

If she thought to attach herself to him, after cleverly making use of the fog and sunlight to bewitch him, then she thought wrong. No matter how lovely and captivating she was—and she definitely was—she wasn’t getting her hooks into Gideon Fox. His hardscrabble life had taught him to be wary and suspicious. Dealing with ruthless criminals made him excessively cynical and cautious. Gideon wasn’t falling into her trap, either.

To ensure Pecos Clem couldn’t escape, Gideon double-checked the ropes that held the outlaw to the saddle. He’d be damned if he let himself be distracted by sinful temptation at its best—or worst, depending on how you looked at it. He did not intend to lose one prisoner while capturing another.

“What can I do for you, Miz Russell?” Gideon asked as nonchalantly as he knew how.

“I would like for you to escort me to my father’s trading post near Winding River so I can clear up a misunderstanding and track down a murderer who killed my friend.”

So she planned to use him as her protective shield, did she? He wasn’t surprised. Half the people in this world expected him to do favors for them. With the exception of his two younger brothers and his sister-in-law, he amended. Then again, even they could become demanding on occasion.

The other half of the population tried to avoid him before he hauled them to Judge Parker’s federal court.

“I’m in the middle of an arrest, Mizz Russell.” He turned directly to face her—and wished he hadn’t. The woman looked like she should be against the law and her effect on him was staggering. Gideon tried exceptionally hard to pretend indifference but it wasn’t easy.

She shifted her weight from one booted foot to the other, drawing his unwilling attention to the curve of her hips and her long, shapely legs. “Couldn’t you leave your prisoner with other marshals? I know your mobile headquarters and jail wagon must be around here somewhere.”

“I could,” he acknowledged. “But I’m nine miles west of headquarters.”

She nodded pensively, causing a riot of red-gold curlicue strands of hair to bobble around her exquisite face. “I’ll fetch my horse. After we drop off your prisoner we can head west.”

Gideon had no reason to mistrust her intentions—and no reason not to. “I’ll go with you to retrieve your mount,” he insisted as he tethered the gray horse to a tree. “Clem isn’t going anywhere until I get back.”

Letting Lorelei lead the way wasn’t such a good idea, Gideon decided a moment later. The seductive sway of her hips hypnotized him. Worse, he found himself speculating how this wicked, murdering angel looked naked.

He could picture that curly mane of flame-gold hair spilling over the grass as he settled himself exactly above her. He could imagine the feel of those well-proportioned legs hooked around his waist as he buried himself inside her and fell into the depths of those thick-lashed golden eyes. It would be like flying into the blistering heat of the sun….

The erotic thought blazed through his mind and scorched his body, leaving it sizzling with forbidden desire. Ruthlessly, Gideon ignored the tingling sensations and reminded himself that no matter how appealing this sinful angel was, she had murdered her lover.

The only reason he’d reacted so fiercely to her was that he’d been away from women too long. His forays to capture criminals in Indian Territory—that encompassed seventy thousand square miles—usually lasted six weeks. He’d been in the wilderness for five weeks. Any female would look good to him by now, he tried to convince himself.

Unfortunately, this particular woman possessed excessive feminine appeal. The fact that Lorelei had murdered her last lover and wanted Gideon to get her off, scot-free, should have repelled him. But it didn’t, damn it.

“What are you doing out here alone?” Gideon asked as she hiked up the hillside.

“I’m hiding from the two men chasing after me.”

An honest lady outlaw? Interesting. He wondered what her angle was. Everyone had an angle, after all. There was always a catch, always a trap. A man had to stay on his toes to avoid tripping himself up.

“Why are they chasing you?” he asked—as if he didn’t know.

“Because they were ordered to do so by the person who mistakenly thought I committed a crime. Which I didn’t,” she said emphatically as she led the way up a rocky ridge.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled neutrally.

She approached the sturdy strawberry roan gelding that looked to be too high-spirited for a woman to handle. Apparently, Lorelei Russell could handle men and horses with the same degree of skill—and he better not let himself forget that. Instinct and intuition had warned him at first sight that she was trouble. Sure enough, he’d been right.