The Gunfighter and the Heiress

chapter Fourteen



Another half hour passed and Marsh’s howls of excruciating pain dwindled to whimpers. Finally, Crow appeared from the shadows of the trees, his expression grim. “Arsenic,” he murmured as he halted in front of Natalie. “Delivered in increasing doses in the meals Marsh personally served to your mother, while pretending to be a devoted, pampering husband. He has been embezzling money from your shipping company for the past few years, using the pretense of promoting the business and luring in new clients. Anything else you want to know right now or can we wait—ooofff…”

His breath gushed out when Natalie, so overwhelmed with anger, grief and relief leaped into his arms, causing him to stumble back a few steps before he regained his balance.

She locked her legs around his lean hips and hugged the stuffing out of him while blood-pumping tension, anger and fear that had sustained her swooshed out. Tears poured down her cheeks like falling rain. She wasn’t sure how long she held on to him for dear life, letting the jumble of bubbling emotion inside her erupt like Mount Vesuvius.

Crow wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the crown of her head. “It’s okay now, sunshine.”

“I’m-m s-sorry,” she blubbered then hiccupped. “I d-didn’t want you t-to have to b-be the place I fell apart…”

“Take a deep breath and let it all out,” he murmured comfortingly. “You were incredible this morning, did I tell you? Three-to-one odds and you held out longer, better, than most men I know.”

She raised her tear-stained face and hiccupped again. “You were there watching?”

He nodded and flashed a lopsided smile. “I wanted to intrude earlier but I couldn’t get a decent shot without the risk of hitting you by mistake. I figured you’d never let me hear the end of it if I did.”

She teared up again and sobbed out, “They shot my horse.”

“I know. I saw him. Luckily, he was back on his feet when Bart and I reached him. The bullet grazed his rump. I’ll tend to him later. He’ll be as good as new in no time.”

“Thank you…” Natalie broke off into weeping sobs, embarrassing herself again.

She had held up under the pressure of the fast-speed chase and the dangerous confrontation with Marsh and his henchman, but now she was bawling her head off like an abandoned baby. Crow and Bart probably thought she’d gone loco, but she couldn’t seem to regain her composure. Not yet anyway, not until she vented the turmoil of emotion roiling inside her.

Crow cradled her in his arms, then carried her to the stream so she could wash her face. He grabbed the monogrammed kerchief he had taken from Marsh, dipped it in water, then blotted her swollen cheek and tender lip. He was so gentle and patient with her that she broke down and cried all over again.

“Damn, sunshine, I never realized you had so much water in you,” he teased.

“I’m a big sissy after all,” she said, and hiccupped.

“No, you’re brave and daring and amazing. Bart said something to that effect, too, while we watched you battle your enemies.”

High praise from Crow was heady stuff and it helped Natalie regain control of her frazzled composure. She even managed a watery smile. “Thank you. I’m indebted to you.”

“Now, take another deep, cleansing breath and expel it slowly,” he instructed.

Natalie did as he suggested.

“Do you want a shot of whiskey to calm your nerves?”

“No. I had more than I’ll need for a year after the first night we met.”

“If we leave now, we can reach Taloga Springs by late afternoon,” he commented as he blotted the swelling around her eye. “Are you up for the ride?”

Natalie nodded, then raked the wild tendrils from her face. “I’m sorry about Kimball,” she murmured. “I couldn’t have tolerated being married to the self-absorbed dandy but he shouldn’t have died needlessly.”

“I’m sorry about him, too.” Crow drew her to her feet. “Marsh never intended for him to receive his fee for marrying you. In fact, Marsh hadn’t planned for Kimball to leave Texas alive.”

Natalie muffled a sniff, then squared her shoulders. She was bound and determined to appear strong and unrattled in the presence of the prisoners. “You will, of course, receive a generous payment for coming to my rescue today. Bart will, too. It wasn’t part of our original negotiation to put you at risk by fighting this battle for me. I tried to lead Marsh’s brigade away from you to protect you from—”

“Lead them away? Protect me?” His silver-blue eyes widened in disbelief and his dark brows shot up his forehead.

“Well, certainly. These men were my problem, not yours.”

He sent her a withering glance and shook his head in dismay. “Sunshine, I can take care of myself.” He curled his hand around her forearm to steady her while they walked uphill. “Don’t ever put your life in danger for me again. Understand?”

For the sake of argument, she didn’t reply. Nonetheless, she would do whatever necessary to protect Donovan Crow from harm. Always. Even if he didn’t love her, she had fallen as deep in love with him as she could get. Although Natalie had been brave while dealing with her enemies—because her back had been against the proverbial wall and she had nothing to lose—she was the world’s biggest coward when it came to telling Crow how much she cared for him. She vowed to take that secret to her grave—and she was damn lucky that day hadn’t been today!



George Harper had taken only one step outside Madam Sadie’s Brothel in Taloga Springs when he noticed the procession, led by Donovan Crow, riding through town. Drunk though he was, he sobered up in one helluva of a hurry. When he ducked back inside the door to prevent being seen, he slammed into his brothers, Charley and Willy, who were directly behind him.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, Georgie?” Charley muttered crossly. “You stepped on my foot.”

George gestured for his younger brothers to poke their heads around the partially open door to see for themselves that Crow was back in town. “That woman riding behind Crow on his devil horse must be his wife.”

“I wonder if Crow received all three messages we sent to scare him before he left his headquarters in Wolf Ridge,” Willy said.

“I was hoping to rattle the hell out of him and leave him wondering when and where we’d strike,” Charley commented. “He’s saved us the long ride to Wolf Ridge.”

“We can take him by surprise right here,” Willy enthused. “Maybe we can get the drop on Crow before he and the city marshal figure out we robbed the stagecoach last week while we were hiding out in no-man’s-land.”

George grimaced. He had masterminded the stagecoach holdup, but he’d been too drunk to sit a horse. He’d sent his younger brothers to rob the passengers for traveling money to finance the trip to Wolf Ridge so they could kill Crow. It had worked out well, he did admit. Now law officials were looking for two masked men not three. Plus, Crow might not suspect they were in town and that would give the Harper brothers a prime advantage.

“Look yonder at that fella named Marsh that we met in the saloon yesterday,” Charley pointed out. “He was a cocky, arrogant bastard then. Look at him now. He’s hunkered over his horse, backward, and he looks like he’s had the spirit sucked outta him. I swear, Crow must’ve put one of his powerful Indian curses on him.”

George well remembered when Crow had captured him and his brothers, then tied them backward on their horses, forcing them to stare at where they had been instead of where they were going. Made it damn hard to get the drop on that wily half-breed when you were facing the wrong direction.

“I’m more than ready to see Crow pay his due for killing Robbie,” Willy said vindictively. “Then I wanna get the hell out of Texas before the marshal sics the Rangers on us again. Don’t know which is worse, having Crow breathing down our necks or them Rangers hot on our trail.”

Charley frowned curiously while George stared at the prisoners riding backward then broke into a grin.

“What are you grinning about, Georgie?” Charley asked, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

George inclined his shaggy head toward the woman. “We don’t have to take on Crow. We’ll take his bride for bargaining power and he’ll come to us. We can pick him off, retrieve the hidden money from the bank robberies, then ride like hell for the New Mexico border.”

Charley and Willy grinned broadly. “I like the sound of that, big brother,” Willy snickered.

“I like the sound of Crow being dead even better,” Charley added as he and his brothers watched the procession halt at the city marshal’s office to quick-march the three wounded prisoners inside.



Natalie was exhausted from the ordeal with Marsh and his henchmen. The long restless night and lack of sleep had taken its toll. She was anxious to exit the marshal’s office and return to her room for a relaxing bath. When she pivoted away from the cells where Crow had stashed the prisoners, Bart flung up his hand to forestall her.

“You need to file formal charges for assault and battery,” he insisted. “Then Van can relay the information to Marshal Dawson that Marsh gave him.”

Resigned to the delay, Natalie plunked into the battered wooden chair beside Dawson’s scarred desk. The marshal, who looked to be a half-dozen years older than Crow and Bart, inclined his broad head, then removed his sweat-stained Stetson hat from a mat of coarse black hair. The monobrow over his large hazel eyes made him look a bit fierce, but he had a cordial smile.

“I can tell by looking at you that you had a tough time with those brutes, Mrs. Crow,” Dawson commiserated as he sank down at the desk. He pulled an official-looking form from the bottom drawer. “By the time I verify your battered condition and your husband gives his testimony, I can guarantee the circuit judge will have your assailants behind bars for a long time.”

Natalie gave Dawson the boiled-down version of the attack, omitting her death-defying attempts to escape. She saw Bart leaning against the doorjamb between the office and the jail, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at her cut-and-dried report.

“There are other serious charges against Marsh and Jenson,” Bart inserted as he pushed his drooping glass up the bridge of broken nose.

Crow ambled from the jail cells. “Come on, sunshine, you need to rest.” He hitched his thumb toward Bart. “Bart is my lawyer and business agent. He can answer most of your questions about the other charges while I’m gone. After I escort Natalie to the hotel, I’ll be back to finish up all the reports.”

Natalie found herself hoisted from the chair and shepherded out the door to retrieve the horses. As was his habit, Crow urged her to walk between the horses, not in front of them as they moved toward the livery stable.

Crow called a halt outside the general store. “Wait here,” he commanded, then left her holding both sets of reins.

He returned two minutes later to join her in between the shield of horses. Natalie recalled she had used a version of this technique when she darted under Jenson’s horse, then used the animal as her armor of defense. This afternoon, however, she doubted the precaution was necessary, because Crow had locked up the prisoners that meant to do her harm. Then again, why break a good habit? This, after all, was a rough town, she reminded herself as they entered the livery stable.



When Van and Natalie entered the hotel lobby, the clerk came to attention and smiled politely. “We repaired the window in one of the rooms you rented. It’s as good as new.”

“Thanks. And please send up hot water for bathing in my suite,” Van requested before he followed Natalie up the steps. When they reached the landing, he gestured to the left. “You’ll be staying with me.”

“That isn’t necessary—”

“Yes, it is,” he interrupted as he guided her toward his suite. “I have a few things to say to you before I return to the marshal’s office.”

“Can’t it wait? I’d love a warm bath first.”

“Sorry. No.” Van closed the door behind him then rounded on Natalie. He must have looked ferocious for as brave as she was in most situations she took an involuntary step back. “You had your emotional meltdown and now I’m going to have mine,” he growled at her.

She stared up at him as if she had no idea what might have set him off. So he told her sharply and succinctly. “Do not ever tie me to a bedpost and sneak off in the darkness to defend yourself against three killers,” he roared, his frustration pouring out like molten lava, his voice rising with each word. “I don’t care how independent you want to be and how skilled you think you are at survival and combat, you are no match for ruthless murderers!”

“But I—”

He made a slashing gesture with his arm to silence her. “I’m not finished yet,” he snapped. “This is when I get to do all the talking and you do all the listening.”

The comment didn’t sit well with her. He really hadn’t thought it would. She tilted her skinned chin and narrowed her dark onyx eyes in annoyance, but he was more aggravated than she was so he didn’t give a damn.

“In the first place, I was embarrassed and humiliated when Bart came to speak to me last night. He had to cut me loose and he had a good laugh at my expense, thanks to you,” he added, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Her lips quirked, as if she intended to smile, but he hurled a stony glare at her. “This is not funny, damn it. Besides that, it cost precious time hunting you down. The whole blessed night, while I tried to find you, I kept asking myself if you had deceived me time after time and had left the jewels and money for safekeeping so the rightful owner couldn’t take it away from you.”

“Rightful owner?” she scoffed. “I am the rightful owner.”

“But I didn’t know that for sure because I had only heard your side of the story. Then you stole my knife—”

“Borrowed.”

“—and my boot pistol which you have yet to return to me,” he said, talking over her in a loud voice.

She reached for the weapon, then slapped it into his hand. “There. Happy now?”

“Not particularly,” he said, and glared at her. “When I found your ex-fiancé in the livery with a stab wound in his back, I thought you had disposed of him so he couldn’t contest your story or offer a physical description of the real Natalie Robedeaux-Blair.”

When she opened her mouth to interrupt Van flung up a hand in her face. “Bart and I weren’t sure what the hell was going on. You can see why we might have had our doubts after you tied me up and stole my knife. Then I stumbled over a dead man in the stall where your strawberry roan had been the last time I looked.” His caustic voice rose to a shout. “I expected to be accused of killing the man!”

Van dragged in a deep breath and told himself to calm down. It didn’t help. He’d been fuming all afternoon and he wanted to blow off steam—directly in Natalie’s bewitching face.

“Then, if all that wasn’t enough to torment the living hell out of me, while I was riding around in the dark, wondering if I had misjudged you again and thinking I was a fool, I topped the rise of ground at dawn to see three men I didn’t know shooting at you.”

“People shoot at you all the time,” she contended. “You should be used to that.”

Van grabbed another breath and gnashed his teeth as he glared at her. “I’m used to people shooting at me, but I nearly suffered heart seizure while bullets were flying at you. Then I nearly suffered an apoplexy when your horse went down and I was too far away to help you or to get a clear shot at the men who might have had good reason for trying to gun down my wife!”

He wagged his finger in her face and said, “If you want to get yourself killed, let me do it. I’ll make it quick and painless and put both of us out of our misery.”

Natalie shot him an agitated glance. “Are you the same man who comforted me while I made a complete fool of myself by soaking your shirt with my tears this morning? How could you be so kind, understanding and supportive this morning when you are flapping like a buzzard and picking my bones clean this evening?”

“Because you needed a place to fall apart this morning and I was relieved to know I hadn’t misjudged you. I was grateful you had survived the attack. You were incredibly brave—or stupid. I’m still trying to figure out which!”

“Thank you so much for the insult,” she huffed.

He waved his arms in expansive gestures. “You are welcome. Now I’m having my say and—”

To his frustration, someone rapped at the door while he was in mid rant. Scowling, he strode beside the door—not in front of it, as was his policy—to see two tall, gangly boys toting buckets of steaming water. He directed them to the bedroom where the tub stood behind the unadorned dressing screen. He waited impatiently while they poured out the water, then trooped back to the sitting room.

When they left, Van took a good long look at Natalie and he reconsidered lecturing her. She was skinned up, bruised and she had dark circles under her eyes. He’d had his say—for the most part. He could wait until later to finish his tirade.

He tossed her satchel on the settee. “Take your bath and get some rest.”

She lifted a perfectly arched brow. “You’re finished chewing me up one side and down the other?”

“For now.” He fished out a small dagger and handed it to her. “I bought this for you at the general store on our way over here.”

She took the stiletto and tested the sharp edge. “Thank you, dear. It’s the kind of wedding gift every bride loves to receive from her devoted husband.”

“You’re welcome, sassy minx,” he said before dropping a quick kiss to the side of her mouth that wasn’t swollen. Then he spun on his heels. “Enjoy your privacy.”

“I’m sure I will, knowing you’ll be back for part two of your scathing lecture. I’m really looking forward to it,” she called after him.

Natalie huffed out an annoyed breath after the door clicked shut behind Crow. Honestly, there were moments—like this morning when he had been the very picture of gentle compassion—that she loved him so much she could hug the stuffing right out of him. Then there were times—like now—when she wanted to pound him over the head for being judgmental, domineering and cynical. How could he be so suspicious of her?

Her shoulders slumped as she peeled off her breeches that had holes in the knees and tossed them carelessly aside. She reminded herself that she had been cautious and secretive to protect herself. True, she hadn’t been completely honest with Crow. Then she had sneaked off, hoping to lead Marsh, Kimball and those five goons…

She wondered what had become of the other three men who exited Rattlesnake Saloon with Marsh, Kimball, Jenson and Green last night. Maybe Marsh hadn’t hired them as part of his army of assassins. She should have asked about those scraggly haired, big-boned hombres who’d had their backs to her at the saloon and were too far away to accurately identify them through the hotel window.

She would question Marsh later, she mused as she stared longingly at her bath.

“Ah, Lord, maybe I’m a hopeless tenderfoot after all,” she murmured as she sank eagerly into the brass tub.

Natalie expelled an appreciative sigh while the warm water soothed her aches and pains. She was reminded of the days in her own oversize bathtub at the family mansion. Back in the day before her mother married Marsh and fell beneath his heartless scheme of greed.

While Natalie lathered herself with plain soap—not the fragrant kind she had at her disposal at home—her thoughts circled back to what Crow had said to her during their confrontation.

It cut to the core to know Crow never really trusted her and that any feelings he might have had for her were skin-deep at best. “He’s a mercenary at heart and you are a fool,” she chastised herself harshly. What did he need with her, other than to take advantage of the intimate privileges she’d granted him? Soon his next assignment would be awaiting him and she would be a half-forgotten memory by next weekend.

The truth stung her pride but Natalie reminded herself that she had withstood great adversity the past few months. She had survived and she had become reasonably self-reliant.

Thanks to Crow’s instructions, for which she’d paid him handsomely.

Natalie scowled, then slid deeper into the tub to wet down her hair. While she was underwater, she vowed that she would head north first thing in the morning and put Crow out of her mind. She still had excitement and adventure ahead of her. She wouldn’t stay where she wasn’t wanted. She had the means to see the world and, by damn, she would see it all.

When that silver-eyed devil—who had turned her heart inside out and wrung all feeling from it—was out of sight she would force him out of her mind, as well.

Natalie shot to the surface, gasping for breath. Well, at least she had arrived at a sensible conclusion after soaking her head. She was going to forget Donovan Crow ever existed.

He could have the divorce he wanted. It didn’t matter now anyway, she thought as she soaped her hair. Her inheritance was safe. Bart would see to that. Marsh would rot in jail or hang for two murders, embezzlement and assault. She had been vindicated and she should be thanking her lucky stars she was alive!