Carol Finch - The Bounty Hunter and the Heiress

It was plain to see that Raven didn’t trust easily. Besides, she hadn’t offered conclusive evidence. But still…

He wagged a lean finger in her face. “No matter what, sugar, I’ll be gone this afternoon. No more of your clever charades. I’m fresh out of patience and this headache and hangover are hard on my good disposition.”

“Didn’t know you had one,” she couldn’t help but sass. When he pulled a face and muttered something under his breath that she didn’t ask him to repeat, she frowned curiously. “For the life of me I don’t know why this bothers me, but why don’t you like me? Is it because you don’t find me particularly attractive? Because I talk too much to suit your tastes? Because I’m headstrong and pushy?”

“All of that, plus you’re a royal pain in the ass,” he told her bluntly.

“Maybe I am, but I can’t let a thing like that get in my way while I’m serving a noble purpose and I need your help.”

“I’m not helping and the very last thing I need is a wife, pretend or otherwise. Especially one like you.”

Even though his comment stung her pride a bit, she angled her head to peer up at him. “How do you know you don’t need a wife? Have you had one before?”

“No, but I travel light. A wife is extra baggage that might get in the way or become another hazard in my profession. As it is, your charade will cause complications. When I return to Denver, everyone will have heard the news. It’s your job to quell the rumors when you get home.”

“I intend to pretend to be married for a good long while so get used to the idea,” she said stubbornly.

Considering her place in high society, having a pretend husband, especially one with J. D. Raven’s legendary reputation, would discourage insincere proposals from fortune hunters. She should have hired a husband impersonator earlier, she mused. It would have solved dozens of problems.

“Lady, you are loco,” Raven said with a marveling shake of his shaggy black head.

She tossed him a teasing smile as she handed back the comment he’d made to her. “Part of my charm.” She lurched toward the station to inquire after the stolen buggy. “And don’t forget about looking for the horse.”

“Nag, nag.”

“No, Hodge is a gelding,” she insisted, grinning.

He frowned darkly. “I wasn’t talking about the horse.”

Raven stared after the bundle of irrepressible spirit wrapped in calico. He didn’t recall having this much trouble winning arguments until he clashed with a woman who possessed an incredible amount of fortitude and determination.

Muttering under his breath, Raven raked his hands through his untrimmed hair then hunkered down to drink his fill from the clear stream. Despite his irritation with the madwoman, he was unwillingly impressed by her uncanny ability to draw information from the passengers without seeming nosey.

She had even mentioned Gordon Carter offhandedly then inquired if anyone knew him. She had discovered quickly that the passengers didn’t reside in Denver. They were passing through and no one had heard of the con man.

Glancing this way and that, Raven decided to take advantage of the privacy and sink into the cool water. If nothing else, the quick bath eased his hangover and helped to curtail the inappropriate thoughts that hounded him after being nestled beside Eva in the coach.

Watching her dip her hand into her bodice to retrieve her money intensified his unwanted awareness of her. Hell, even their lively debates stimulated his interest. She intrigued and aroused him all too easily. He didn’t want to like her or give her a second thought.

This was going to be a very brief acquaintance, he promised himself. Wife indeed! That had bad idea written all over it. If his longtime associate, Hoodoo Lemoyne, and his only surviving cousin, Blackowl, got wind of this, they would laugh themselves into comas.

The thought of Hoodoo Lemoyne, the crippled man who lived at Raven’s mountain cabin, while he tracked notorious criminals, made him grin. Raven hadn’t been able to get rid of that chattering Cajun any easier than he’d gotten rid of Eva.

Raven just sort of inherited the gabby older man who had been his father’s acquaintance. In addition, Raven thought, now he had a pretend wife and she had more grit and gumption than most men he knew.

Raven blew out his breath, shook off the cold water and dressed hurriedly. He hiked to the barn to watch the stage attendants trot out fresh horses. He glanced around the stalls but there wasn’t a chestnut gelding in sight.

“Did you happen to see the man who left the carriage behind the station?” he inquired.

“No,” the first worker replied. “I showed up for work this morning at seven and the buggy was already here.”

“Same for me,” the second man chimed in. “You might ask the station owner. He’s around all the time.”

The first worker surveyed Raven’s attire. “You’re Raven the bounty hunter, aren’t you?”

He nodded.

“Heard of you,” the man murmured. “Congratulations on your marriage. Your wife is one of the prettiest females I’ve ever laid eyes on. You must be proud.”

Raven was no such thing. He was baffled by the newfound respect he’d acquired because of his association with Eva. The uncharacteristic chattiness from men who usually ignored him was difficult to grow accustomed to. Raven glanced toward the doorway of the station house where Eva was deep in conversation with the potbellied owner, who was only a few inches taller than she was.

“She’s the prettiest female I ever laid eyes on, too,” he admitted.

“How’d you meet her, if you don’t mind my asking?” the second attendant said interestedly.

Raven smiled in wry amusement. “A young kid, a mutual friend, introduced us.”

He pivoted around to amble toward Eva. He was ten feet away from her when the report of a rifle echoed around the rugged canyon walls overlooking the stage station. Raven reacted instantly. He lunged forward to hook his arm around Eva, forcing her to roll across the ground with him. The stage station owner yelped and leaped backward when the bullet whistled over their heads and thudded into the water barrel outside the door. Water dribbled into the dirt, leaving a puddle that could easily have been Eva’s blood.

While Raven lay atop Eva, her lush body melded familiarly to his, she gaped at him in astonishment. He was surprised to note that curiosity, not fear, flickered in her chocolate-brown eyes.

“Here’s another reason why being married to me is unwise. It puts you in harm’s way,” he murmured against her ear. “Criminals dislike me and so do their vindictive kinfolk. I might as well have a bull’s-eye painted on my back.”

“How do you know that someone is shooting at you and not at me?” she retorted. “It could be Gordon. The stationmaster informed me that late last night he bought the buggy from a man who matches Gordon’s description. He bought a saddle and rode off on Lydia’s horse. Gordon would recognize me easily and I predict he would be anxious to have me off his trail.”

Raven rolled sideways then pulled Eva up beside him. He kept her protectively behind him while he scanned the towering peaks that were rife with hiding places behind rocks and trees. Wherever the sniper was lurking, Raven couldn’t locate him. What’s more, it disturbed him to no end that he’d been so distracted and preoccupied with Eva that he wasn’t as attuned to his surroundings as he usually was.

She was a liability he could ill afford. The sooner they parted company the better for both of them, he told himself.

“You okay, ma’am?” the driver questioned—and Raven was quick to note the smell of whiskey on George’s breath.