The Gunfighter and the Heiress

chapter Seven



Natalie’s terrified voice blared into Van’s wandering thoughts, sending him racing to the creek with his rifle at the ready. He skidded to a halt and ducked in the bushes when he saw two Comanche braves looming on the stream bank. Although the spring-fed water wasn’t completely transparent, it didn’t matter. A man’s vivid imagination could easily fill in all the enticing details of Natalie’s lush feminine body.

Hell! Van thought. His eyes were popping and his tongue was hanging out, so why should he be surprised the warriors were hypnotized by the arousing sight?

Determined to get control of himself, Van rose to his feet. “Stop gaping at my wife,” he shouted in the fluent Comanche dialect that he had learned growing up.

The warriors lurched toward him and Van relaxed when he recognized Chulosa and Teskee. He had known them both since childhood and he visited them periodically at the reservation. He wondered if they had permission to leave Indian Territory. If not, they would be in serious trouble with the Indian agent, the military and the Texas Rangers.

“You married a white woman?” Chulosa hooted as he lowered his rifle barrel to the ground.

“Why would you do that?” Teskee wanted to know.

“Long story,” Van replied as he approached. “The more important question is why are you two here?”

“I would appreciate it if you could hold this powwow somewhere else so I can bathe and dress,” Natalie requested. Her irritated gaze landed squarely on Van. “What are you saying to them?”

Van glanced sideways, wishing he couldn’t see her body quite so well in the rippling water. The sight, he was certain, would be burned into his eyeballs for all eternity. Calling upon his willpower, he led the braves uphill to the campsite.

“Why did the woman agree to marry you?” Teskee asked as he sank down cross-legged on Van’s pallet.

“She said I was perfect for her,” he replied wryly.

Both men glanced, befuddled, at each other then stared pensively at Van.

He flicked his wrist, dismissing the topic of conversation. “Why did you leave the reservation? You know the consequences of being truant.”

“We will risk the consequences to find decent food for our people,” Chulosa explained. “The meat supplies you sent are gone. The rancid beef the army provides and expects us to eat is unfit for coyotes. Too many people are becoming sick.”

“We have come to hunt deer, rabbit and whatever we can find so our people won’t go hungry or die,” Teskee insisted.

“I sent food and supplies last month,” Van reminded them. “How can they be depleted so soon?”

“Some of the soldiers are selling the goods for their own profit,” Teskee replied. “They even have scouts keeping watch to alert them when you enter camp so they can be prepared.”

Van scowled at the news. “As soon as I escort my wife to Taloga Springs, I’ll head to the reservation,” he promised.

“We will go with you,” Chulosa volunteered. “You will need protection and extra weapons this time. The new lieutenant named Suggs keeps telling his superiors that you should not be allowed to come and go as you please because you are half Kiowa. To an Indian-hater like him, that is the same as a full-blood that should be imprisoned on the reservation.”

Damnation, thought Van. Wasn’t it enough that the Harper Gang was out for his blood? Now the corrupt military officer wanted him unarmed and confined so he wouldn’t pose any threats. Oh, and he couldn’t forget the two bastards and their henchmen who might be hunting for Natalie. They wouldn’t be pleased to discover she had married Van, who now stood in the way of the men anxious to steal her inheritance—or so Natalie claimed.

Van wondered what else could go wrong with his so-called wedding trip, but he was afraid to ask.



Dressed in her breeches, shirt, vest and boots, Natalie jogged uphill to camp. She’d nearly suffered heart seizure earlier when she’d glanced up to see the Indian warriors looming on the creek bank. She shook her head in self-disgust, for she had forgotten everything Crow taught her. She had yelled his name and screamed bloody murder.

She should have taken action.

How did she expect to survive in the wilderness when Crow sent her off on her own?

Her shoulders slumped in frustration when her thoughts circled back to the self-defense lessons from earlier this evening. She hadn’t been repulsed when Van kissed her a little too roughly. Sweet mercy, she had been aroused!

What was the matter with her? She should have defended herself, not invited him to continue.

Maybe it was because her attraction to him kept getting the best of her after days of his constant companionship. She had wanted to know what it would be like to share his embrace rather than have him pounce on her so she could practice self-defense techniques.

The fact that she spent every night sleeping next to his muscled body, feeling his reassuring presence, made it seem natural to touch him familiarly. In addition, he was the last person she saw before she fell asleep and the first person she saw each morning. She was too comfortable around him, too satisfied with his appealing presence.

Next thing she knew, she would be incapable of beginning a new day without gazing into those silver-blue eyes and viewing his lopsided smile that did funny things to her pulse and touched her reckless heart.

“You’ll be headed for heartache if you don’t watch out,” she lectured herself sternly as she approached the campsite. “Plus, you can never trust him if he finds out who you are.”

Her thoughts flitted away when she heard the murmur of voices, then saw Crow and the two braves sitting cross-legged by the campfire. They were passing around the bottle of whiskey Crow kept in his saddlebags.

Even though she moved quietly toward them, all three men glanced up. She wondered if she would ever learn to be so attentive and aware of her surroundings. You had darn well better be, Nat, she told herself. Otherwise, you’re liable to wake up dead and ruin your great adventure in the wilderness.

“Sunshine, these Comanche warriors are my friends,” Crow said in English. “This is Chulosa and Teskee.”

Natalie smiled cordially at the two men dressed from head to toe in buckskin decorated with long fringe. Their skin was darker than Crow’s and their eyes were coal black. They weren’t as tall as Crow, but they were as lean, muscular and in prime physical condition like Crow.

She walked over to shake their hands but they stared curiously at her fingertips. Despite their obvious reluctance, she clutched each man’s hand and shook it firmly.

“Any friend of Crow’s is a friend of mine,” she insisted.

The one called Chulosa stared at her with a bemused frown. “Why did you marry Crow?” he asked in stilted English. “Could you not find a white man who would have you?”

She shot Crow a sideways glance, noting that he was doing his damnedest—and failing miserably—to bite back a grin.

“No, I couldn’t find a white man to suit. I have been told that I am very difficult. But Crow is perfect for me in every way. It’s a good match.”

“Told you,” Crow said to his Comanche friends. Then he glanced at Natalie. “We will hunt supper while you gather more wood for the fire.” He handed her one of his six-shooters. “We’ll signal you by whistling before we return to camp so don’t shoot us by mistake.”

When the three men ambled away, Natalie crammed the pistol into the waistband of her breeches, then headed back to the tree-choked creek to gather firewood. She wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t heard gunfire—that might draw unwanted guests—before the men returned to camp carrying two rabbits and a squirrel. She, however, hadn’t mastered the art of pitching stones to bring down potential food for meals. If she didn’t stock up on dried beef and canned goods before she forged off alone, she’d starve in a couple of weeks.

While the Comanche warriors skinned the meat, Crow strode off to bathe. Natalie unpacked the tin plates and cups, then made coffee while he was gone.

“Do you have permission to leave the reservation?” she asked Chulosa and Teskee.

The braves shook their heads, sending their dark braids rippling on their shoulders. “Our people need decent food because the soldiers take what is ours,” Chulosa said angrily.

“We risked arrest because our families and our clan need untainted food,” Teskee added grimly. “Your white soldiers do not care if our tribe dies off. They have poisoned us in the past to reduce our population. They often single out a warrior, who is too vocal about our mistreatment, and claim the reason they gunned him down was because he resisted arrest. No one believes us when we protest the abuse and killings. There is only the white version of the stories.”

Natalie detested the thought of anyone being persecuted, tormented and confined. She knew all too well how it felt to be controlled and denied freedom. She couldn’t begin to imagine how the Indian tribes felt when white settlers overran their land, poisoned their food and water supplies, slaughtered their livestock and herded them like cattle to reservations to suffer even more atrocity.

Her angry thoughts scattered when the warriors glanced up a moment before she heard Crow’s approach. He looked refreshed after his bath and he had chosen to dress exactly like his friends. He glanced at her, as if unsure whether she approved of his fringed buckskins, bone necklace and beaded headband.

The thought that her opinion mattered to him touched her. Impulsively, she walked over to kiss him right smack-dab on the lips. His friends snickered in amusement as they glanced back and forth from her to Crow.

For the life of her, she didn’t know why these displays of affection came so easily while she was with Crow. Previously, she spent her time discouraging and thwarting male advances that were designed to court her inheritance, not her personally. Somehow she had managed to convince herself that being married to Crow granted her the right to touch him and kiss him anytime she wanted.

It wasn’t that she was putting on an act to convince everyone she had feelings for Crow. She did have tender feelings for him. She had seen him at his best and worst and she had witnessed his every mood. She swore that, after only a week, she knew him better than she knew her male acquaintances in New Orleans after a year.

“We will leave you alone after the meal so you can join with your husband,” Chulosa said as he reached for a slice of the juicy meat.

Natalie’s face flushed with heat but she told herself it was her own fault after kissing Crow in front of his friends. Not that she hadn’t entertained a dozen thoughts of doing more than sleeping beside Crow. She certainly had. Not to mention that consummating their marriage might make it more difficult for Marsh and Kimball—wherever those two bastards were—to dissolve this union.

However, she had made advances toward Van before the Comanche braves arrived and he had held her at bay and questioned her motives. Her pride was still smarting about that. She never dreamed men turned down sexual gratification, even if they weren’t wildly attracted to a woman.

An hour later, the braves made themselves scarce and Crow folded his hand around hers to lead her toward the supplies stacked beside the tethered horses.

“We’re going to erect a tent for privacy,” he announced. “You need to know how, in case you’re in the wilds and a thunderstorm blows in.”

Natalie followed his instructions while he showed her how to drape the oversize tarp over a tree limb and then stake down the corners to shield her from the rain.

“It’s better than packing a tent that has braces and stakes that you have to repack when you break camp,” Crow assured her. “It’s important to make use of what is available and travel light so you can break camp and move quickly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured before she used the blunt side of his ax to drive in makeshift stakes.

When Van strode off to fetch their pallet, Natalie glanced up at the dome of stars forming overhead. She wondered how she had survived so long in a crowded city. She might still be a greenhorn with a lot to learn but she had a great appreciation for the outdoors. She wasn’t sure she could tolerate confinement again.

The thought made her wince, knowing how daunting it must be for Indian tribes, who had lost their freedom and had been forced to give up sacred ground and their customs to live in the white man’s world. Slavery of any kind tormented the soul.

When Crow rejoined her inside the improvised tent, nervousness flittered through her body. They hadn’t been alone since she had tried to turn their survival lesson into a seduction—which assured her that she also had a lot to learn in that department, too.

She watched Crow perform his nightly ritual of removing his boot pistol, the derringer inside the waistband of his breeches, a six-shooter and the bowie knife strapped to his ankle. Amusement overrode her unease.

“I swear you carry more hardware than a traveling salesman,” she teased, hoping to break the tension.

“We are going to equip you the same way when we reach Taloga Springs,” he insisted. “My motto is to be heavily armed and prepared for everything.”

“Can’t wait,” she enthused. “I—”

Without warning, Crow clamped his hand over her mouth. She could feel the tautness in his body. Now what? she thought.

“Stay out of sight,” he whispered while he reclaimed all his weapons—including the pistol he’d given to her earlier.

She blinked in surprise when he slithered beneath the back edge of the tarp that was butted up against the tree trunk. Her attention shifted to the sound of galloping horses and the shouted command for the two Comanche warriors to throw down their rifles.

Despite Crow’s order to stay inside, Natalie tucked her two-shot derringer in the band of her breeches and crawled outside, bounding to her feet. Campfire light reflected off the three rifle barrels that swerved toward her while she surveyed the ragtag riders. They were dressed in the same fashion as cowboys—or outlaws, it was hard to say which. Sombreros covered their heads and bristly whiskers lined their jaws.

She assumed Crow had crept off, hoping to circle behind the intruders. It seemed sensible for her to provide necessary distraction for him. “You are welcome to share our leftovers from supper,” she said cordially. “You can water your horses at the stream while I reheat food.”

The dark-haired, hazel-eyed intruder, who looked about Crow’s age, stared at her consideringly. Then he glanced at the Comanche warriors who kept their arms over their heads. “Did these truant renegades take you captive, ma’am? If they did, you don’t have to fear for your life if you tell me the truth.” He inclined his shaggy head toward Teskee and Chulosa. “They crossed the Red River without permission. We received orders to return them to the reservation.”

“No, they didn’t harm me. They graciously consented to escort me across this rugged country to reach Taloga Springs…. And you are?” she asked, still unsure of their identity.

“Texas Rangers,” the second rider, with frizzy red hair and green eyes, spoke up. “We patrol this section of the state.”

“Then I should like to see your badges,” she insisted.

Reluctantly, they displayed the badges they kept in their vest pockets.

“Why are you riding to Taloga Springs?” the third rider, who had blue eyes, straight blond hair and a thick neck and chest, inquired. “It’s a rough place, even for the toughest of men.”

“I have my husband for protection,” she explained.

The Texas Rangers glanced skeptically at the Comanche braves. Then the dark-haired Ranger asked, “Where is this supposed husband of yours?”

“Right behind you,” Van growled ominously as he stepped into view. He held both six-shooters at the ready. “Throw down your weapons and make it snappy. I’m in a lousy mood because you are interrupting my honeymoon.”

The startled Texas Rangers tossed aside their rifles and pistols. With hands held high, they twisted in the saddle to face Van, who continued to hold them at gunpoint to protect his Comanche friends from harm.

“Crow?”

“Montgomery,” Van acknowledged with a clipped nod to the hazel-eyed, dark-haired Ranger. “Haven’t seen you for a while. Didn’t miss you much.”

Van was acquainted with the three Rangers through several assignments that brought him in contact with their battalion. But he refused to classify them as friends. Although these men weren’t directly responsible for the deaths of his clan members, he would never forget the heartache of his tribe, as well as the Comanche, suffered at the hands of the Rangers and the army. These men were aware of the reasons for his cautiousness and standoffish attitude toward them.

“You’re married?” the second Ranger—Bristow was his name—hooted incredulously. “To her? You are kidding.”

“No, he isn’t kidding,” Natalie said firmly. “Crow is perfect for me. Furthermore, I don’t appreciate people doubting my good judgment.”

It amused and flattered him that she was his staunch supporter. “Sunshine, I thought I told you to stay in the tent,” he reminded her with a pointed glance.

“Did you? I guess I wasn’t listening, dear.”

She batted her big black eyes and smiled so innocently that it was hard to be aggravated at her for disobeying his direct order. Thus far, she had obeyed his commands to stay put zero percent of the time. But to be fair, she had provided the distraction needed for him to get the drop on the intruders who turned out to be Rangers. Like all other men, they became sidetracked by her intelligence and beauty.

Worked every time.

“Now that we are all acquainted,” said Phelps, the blond haired, blue-eyed Ranger who was the oldest of the threesome, “we’d like to climb down and parley with the Comanche.”

“Soon as you unload all your hardware, including the concealed weapons,” Van insisted, and then rattled off an order in Comanche. “My friends are under my protection until we sort this out.”

The warriors strode over to check the Rangers’ boots and sleeves to make sure they were unarmed. After confiscating three bowie knives and three derringers similar to Natalie’s, the warriors motioned for the Rangers to dismount.

“I’ll heat the coffee for our powwow,” Natalie volunteered. “I’m sure our guests would like to relax until the food is ready.”

“There are problems at the reservation again.” Van sat down by the fire to join the Rangers. Teskee and Chulosa completed the circle. “My friends came to hunt meat for their starving families. They also told me about the theft of the food and supplies by soldiers at the fort. Food and supplies that I personally provided,” he added gruffly. “A Lieutenant Suggs seems to be in charge of the latest theft ring.”

He stared stonily at the Rangers. “I don’t appreciate thieving soldiers depriving my family and friends of decent food and replacing it with contaminated beef.”

“How do you plan to stop the theft ring?” Montgomery questioned, nodding his thanks when Natalie handed him a cup of coffee.

“I’ll be paying Suggs a visit after I accompany my wife to Taloga Springs.”

Bristow frowned pensively. “That still doesn’t excuse your Comanche friends from taking an unannounced leave from the reservation.”

Van expelled a caustic snort. “I’ve heard it said that Rangers make up their rules as they go along. Why can’t the Indians who are being starved and mistreated make up a few rules to fit their desperate situation?”

“You have a point.” Phelps smiled wryly, then sipped his coffee. “Since you follow the same policy you should join our ranks.”

“I’ve heard rumors that you were being recruited,” Bristow commented.

“I’ve declined,” Van announced. “I prefer to pick and chose my assignments.”

“For a high price, I hear,” Montgomery mumbled enviously. “Maybe I should change my line of work.”

“You do that. In the meantime, someone with authority and gumption needs to escort Chulosa and Teskee to the reservation and see that they arrive unharmed…and they stay that way.” Van stared pointedly at the Rangers. “Army corruption needs to be reported and stopped. You have the authority to make it happen.”

The Rangers nodded in agreement.

“Have to tell you that I’ve never been thrilled with the army, either,” Phelps confided. “We’ve locked horns with them on policy several times.”

“Then it’s settled,” Van declared. “None of us like the army and its officers, who can’t handle their positions of authority without resorting to corruption.”

The group was silent for a few minutes while Natalie passed out the reheated meat and stew from supper.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” Bristow asked, and then grinned broadly. “I’m guessing it’s not really Sunshine.”

“No, it’s Natalie.” She glanced at Van then sat down beside him. “Natalie Jones…Crow.”

“Natalie…” Montgomery repeated thoughtfully. “Didn’t our captain mention something about a Natalie Something-Or-Other being abducted?”

Van studied his wife discreetly. He noted the hint of tension in her smile and saw the damnable shadow of secrets in her eyes. He wondered if her stepfather and ex-fiancé were circulating the information in hopes of tracking her down quickly. He also wondered—again—if she had told him the truth.

Another cloud of doubt about her identity filled his mind. He cast it aside, preferring to discuss the matter with Natalie in private. Before the Rangers asked questions he didn’t want to answer, Van switched the topic of conversation quickly. “I want to know your specific plans for escorting Chulosa and Teskee across the Red River.”

“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ll retire for the evening.” Natalie rose gracefully to her feet. “I’ll prepare breakfast before everyone leaves camp in the morning.”

Van watched her walk away—and realized the other men were hypnotized by the feminine sway of her hips. Fierce possessiveness assailed him but he told himself that he would have to get used to that. Natalie commanded masculine attention, whether she invited it or not.

“If not for having my wife on this trip, I would detour to the reservation,” Van insisted. But he refused to send her to Taloga Springs alone. She wasn’t ready to solo in the wilderness. He wasn’t ready to turn her loose.

She is still my wife, he reminded himself. Even if in name only. The thought prompted the memory of how she had tempted him to the crumbling edge of resistance earlier this evening and how he’d come to crave what he had told himself, repeatedly, he shouldn’t have…

“Is that agreeable, Crow?”

Van scowled. “Repeat that, please. I was thinking about something else.”

All five men grinned as they glanced directly at the tent and then back at Van.

Montgomery said, “Gee, can’t imagine what that something else might be. By the way, your wife is one of the most attractive women I’ve had the good fortune to meet.”

The other men nodded in agreement. Van sighed inwardly. Marrying a gorgeous woman with secrets in her past and adventure in her soul was more than a man could handle. Yet, Van liked having her underfoot…but not as much as he’d like to have her all to himself in bed…

The wayward thought made him squirm as desire channeled through his body. He tried to pay attention to the plan the Rangers mapped out for the trip to the reservation. But it took some doing.