The Gunfighter and the Heiress

chapter Nine



Natalie awoke the next morning with a satisfied smile on her face, though she felt a mite tender in a few unfamiliar places. Not that she was complaining. The previous evening spent in the river, on the riverbank and in the shelter of their improvised tent—where she devised a few more techniques to pleasure Crow—had been incredible. Plus, he had taught her things about her body—and herself—that she hadn’t known.

She wouldn’t have waited a single day to consummate their marriage if she had known Crow was so tender and skilled at teaching her about passion. She would like to rewind time so she could spend every night sampling the erotic delights Crow had unveiled to her.

He had restrained her from completely discovering every corded tendon, muscled plane and masculine contour of his magnificent body. Now she would never have the chance to pleasure him as much as he had pleased her.

Stretching leisurely, she glanced sideways to note that Crow had left their pallet. Today was no different from any other day, she reminded herself. He was always the first to rise. He reconnoitered the area, tended the horses and built the campfire.

Natalie drew in a deep breath, enjoying the smell of smoke that drifted from the fire. She had also come to appreciate sitting by the fire, watching the hypnotic flames dance in the darkness. She had never experienced anything like it at home in New Orleans. She had been deprived of so many simple pleasures of being one with nature—and with the magnificent silver-blue-eyed warrior she had married.

Reluctant to leave the warm pallet, Natalie sat upright to rake her hands through the tangled auburn strands that tumbled over her shoulders. She grabbed the neatly folded garments Crow thoughtfully left for her and got dressed. When she stepped outside, Crow was hunkered beside the campfire, turning the prairie chicken that roasted over the flames.

When he glanced sideways, awkwardness bombarded her. There were no secrets between them now…well, except for that gigantic secret—about being the heiress to a shipping fortune—that she’d purposely kept from him.

His gaze roamed possessively over her and she blushed. He knew how she looked naked and how easily he could arouse her to the heights of breathless passion. He knew how wildly she responded to his tender kisses and intimate caresses.

Despite the beet-red blush staining her cheeks, she strived to appear nonchalant. She knew she hadn’t pulled it off because a knowing smile quirked his lips.

“Feeling okay, sunshine?”

She forced a dazzling smile and shifted nervously from one booted foot to the other. “Sure, and you?”

“No complaints.”

Well, this was uncomfortable. But she would never regret the night she had spent with Crow and she refused to let self-conscious feelings spoil her last day with him.

“I have no regrets whatsoever,” she blurted out as she walked over to pour herself a cup of coffee.

He stared at her for a long, silent moment. “You sure about that?”

“Positively certain. Which reminds me…how much do I owe you? Another thousand?” She set aside her coffee cup, then reversed direction to reenter the tent and retrieve her money.

When she walked back to him, she playfully grabbed his hand and laid the money in his palm. “Paid in full, Crow. A pleasure doing business with you,” she said in a playful tone.

He frowned as he stared at the bank note, then handed it back to her. “That won’t be necessary. The pleasure was all mine. But mind telling me how you came to have these large-denomination bills?”

She inwardly winced, then mustered an impish grin. “Robbed a bank.”

“Interesting. Come to think of it, you paid for my name on the marriage license with large denominations, too. And you do seem to have an endless supply of funds with you.” His wary gaze zeroed in on her. “I heard a thief struck the railroad near Fort Worth recently. That wasn’t you, was it, sunshine?”

She batted her eyes at him and drawled. “Of course not, dear. I’ve been saving up for this trip west for a long time.”

Despite her playful tone, he continued to stare skeptically at her with those penetrating silver-blue eyes. Then he refocused on the large bank note. Curse it, she should have asked the banker for smaller bills when she made the withdrawal from her account. She had been careless and Crow was nothing if not a well-trained detective who asked all sorts of probing questions when his curiosity was aroused—as it was now.

She dropped a kiss on his lips, hoping to distract him. It must have worked because he said, “We are three or four hours from Taloga Springs.” He put meat and bread on her tin plate, then handed it to her. “It’s a tough place because it sits near the cattle trail to Dodge City. Cowboys ride into town to blow off steam at night. Gamblers and grifters hover around to prey on the drovers. Most of the women in town are paid by the hour. Cattlemen in the area are constantly feuding with each other over free range, water rights and missing calves. Fights break out on a regular basis so pay attention to what’s going on around you.”

“I’m not planning to remain in town but one night,” she assured him between bites. “I’ll catch the stagecoach to Dodge City to see what a real cow town is like before I head to Colorado to view the mountains. I plan to make use of my widow’s digs, just as I did during my trip to Wolf Ridge.”

“Just don’t expect to be spared from robbery if your coach is stopped,” he warned as he eyed her somberly. “I don’t know how much money you still have stashed in your clothing but if you are too protective of your satchels, thieves will become suspicious and turn your luggage inside out.”

Natalie inwardly cringed at the prospect of losing the Robedeaux-Blair jewels, some of which had been transported from France with the original family when heads rolled during the revolution.

“I assume from the look on your face there is more money tucked away. Otherwise, you couldn’t afford this cross-country adventure. Am I right?” he questioned intently.

“I do have a stash to support myself until I decide where to settle down and find a job,” she hedged, hoping to dissolve his suspicions. “But it is true that my business dealings with you have diminished my funds.”

“Sorry, but I don’t—”

“Work cheap,” she finished for him. “I know.” She couldn’t quite meet his gaze when she added, “You were worth the price, Crow.”

“Glad to be of help. Client satisfaction is important.” He rose to his feet to pour leftover coffee on the fire. “Time to pull up stakes and pack our belongings. The road near Taloga Springs can be dangerous for travelers so we will parallel the path as much as possible. The town isn’t called Hell’s Fringe for nothing.”

Natalie swallowed the last bite of her breakfast, then spread out the glowing coals so they would burn out quickly. She gathered the dishes and headed to the river to wash them while Crow packed away the makeshift tent.

Although he was friendly enough this morning, he had distanced himself from her. She wondered if that was how men dealt with women after a casual evening tryst. Well, he needn’t try to discourage her from hanging all over him, she mused irritably. After all, she did not intend to demand more of him than she had asked last night.

“What did you expect, fool?” she chastised herself as she practically scrubbed the finish off the coffee pot and tin plates. “That Crow would fall at your feet and declare undying love for you after your tryst?”

It would have been nice, she thought. At least then, she would have known there was something interesting and attractive about her that appealed to him besides the fact that she was female and she had made herself available to him. At least she hadn’t had to wonder if he was attracted to her fortune. That was a first for her.

“You’re a fine one to talk about caring for a man, just for himself, after the bargain you struck with Crow,” she grumbled at herself. “You made the mistake of liking him a little too much—”

“Talking to yourself, are you, sunshine?”

Natalie was so startled by the sound of his voice that she pitched toward the river—and would have taken a swan dive into the water if Crow hadn’t grabbed the nape of her shirt to steady her.

“Do not sneak up on me, damn you,” she snapped as she struggled to bring her racing heartbeat under control—and prayed he hadn’t heard what she had said about him.

“Sorry. Sneaking up on people is part of my job.” He hoisted her to her feet and helped her scoop up the dishes. “I’m told that I excel in sneaking.”

There was something about the way he stared at her that caused alarm bells to clang in her mind. The look in his eyes was even more remote and distant than it had been at breakfast. Arousing Crow’s suspicion was dangerous business. She’d give anything to know what he was thinking.

She pasted on a casual smile, hoping to mask her growing concern. “Something wrong, Crow?”

“You tell me, sunshine.”

“Not a thing I can think of,” she said breezily. “Let’s mount up and ride. I’m anxious to see what the fringes of hell look like.”

She didn’t glance back at him, just strode uphill. But she could feel the icy weight of his gaze on her. He had been acting strangely since she’d teasingly handed him the money this morning and he’d returned it. As much as she yearned to have Crow with her indefinitely, she knew it was time to part company. He was posing questions about her past—and her endless money supply—that she was afraid to answer.

Although she was falling in love with him, he was a man, and men always had their own agendas. Therefore, she couldn’t trust him completely. Love him? Yes. Trust him not to betray her for her fortune? No. Definitely not.



If Van hadn’t spent years perfecting and maintaining a carefully controlled neutral expression he would have been spewing curses that would turn the air purple. It was bad enough that he was leading the way through canyon country—and had to deal with the bittersweet memories of his childhood home. Those haunting visions from his past never failed to sour his disposition. All he had to do was close his eyes and the sights and sounds of those hellish days when the Rangers attacked and the army brutally slaughtered their livestock and accidentally killed a few men, women and children caused tormenting resentments to bubble to the surface.

To make matters worse, Natalie’s mysterious riches sent up warning flags in his mind. He recalled the large bills she had paid him earlier for signing the marriage license. At the time, he had been too distracted by the attack on Bart and a possible attempt on Natalie’s life to give it much thought.

Yet he had given it very serious consideration this morning because he sensed she was purposely withholding vital information from him.

So, naturally, he investigated by searching her belongings while she washed dishes at the river. Lo and behold, he’d discovered the hidden compartment in the bottom of her tattered carpetbag. He had dipped in his hand and strands of diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires dripped between his fingers. He had stared in disbelief at the fortune in jewelry.

Hell’s bells, the precious stones, set in gold and silver, were large enough to choke his horse! Not to mention that he’d found more money than he had in his bank account in Wolf Ridge.

Van contemplated Natalie’s unswerving refusal to divulge her last name and confide her past. Suspicion loomed large in his mind. He hadn’t wanted to be mistrustful of her, but he suspected last night’s intimate encounter was part of her cunning scheme to gain his allegiance and his protection. Just in case her secretive past caught up with her and she needed reinforcements.

Why had she found it necessary to pose as a widow? Was it to conceal her identity from lawmen? Was it because she had stolen a fortune in jewelry and money recently? Had she conned him into marrying her by feeding him lies and paying for his services as a gunfighter until she was miles away from the scene of whatever crime she had committed?

He knew he’d served several purposes for her—a name on the marriage license, a skilled shooter and protector. Everything she told him was a crock of lies designed to gain his trust, he mused resentfully.

A wicked stepfather and unfaithful fiancé? Ha! He suspected she had concocted that whole story. And it was a nice touch the way she tossed in suspicions about her mother being poisoned after he had pointed out the hemlock in the marsh. He cursed himself for being tripped up by her exceptional beauty, by her sad tale and by his uncontrollable desire for her. He had been a gullible fool and his pride was smarting until hell wouldn’t have it.

The thought of how she had him twisting in the wind made him furious. He had spent the previous night enjoying a man’s wildest fantasy, only to plunge headlong into the black hole of doubt and suspicion. Van had been used plenty of times and for various reasons by his clients. He had been well paid every blasted time. But Natalie had touched off emotions and filled him with sensations that he wasn’t prepared to deal with—and wasn’t sure how to fight.

Feelings of betrayal coiled inside him. All the money she had paid him for the use of his name and for survival training couldn’t appease the anger burning through him. He had told himself at the onset of their business dealings to remain professionally detached, but had he listened to himself? Hell no, he had blundered blindly ahead, flattered that a stunningly lovely woman would want to marry him, a man most decent women cautiously avoided.

That should have tipped him off immediately. Decent? Natalie? Ha! What kind of woman proposed to a man she had never met and wouldn’t give her real name? The deceptive kind! he thought bitterly.

Like an imbecile, he had been delighted when she proclaimed to everyone who would listen that he was perfect for her in every way. He just hadn’t realized what every way meant to a cunning witch like her. When she had seduced him into teaching her the meaning of passion, he had succumbed to his secret desires for her. Deep down, he’d known she was too good to be true and he had allowed himself to be deceived because he was so intrigued and wildly attracted to her.

Van cursed himself up one side and down the other for failing so miserably in this assignment. For all he knew, he was aiding and abetting a wily criminal who had stolen jewels and money and was using him to make her getaway on horseback—away from trains and stagecoaches that lawmen might check.

Damnation, how could I have been so naive and stupid? he railed at himself harshly. He should have questioned her motives a week ago. Now he was certain every clever remark, every practiced smile had been designed to lure him under her spell and make him a willing pawn.

Hell, he would have trusted her more if she couldn’t come up with the money to pay his fee and had offered a lame excuse about making monthly installments after she settled into a community and took a paying job. But his doubts had been festering since the beginning and increased when the Rangers mentioned the story of a woman named Natalie who had been abducted.

Now, his escalating suspicions and his overwhelming sense of betrayal hounded him to no end as he trekked toward Taloga Springs. If he had a brain in his head—and he liked to think he did, at least until he ran headlong into this witty, conniving female—he would go directly to Indian Territory to deal with the corrupt lieutenant. In his present state of mind, he might tear that cheating bastard apart, limb from limb.

His thoughts scattered like buckshot when he noticed the approaching stagecoach kicking up dust as it moved rapidly over the caprock that skirted the deep ravines and colorful canyons. Van snapped to attention when he saw two masked riders scrabble up the slope ahead of him. They tried to halt the stagecoach by firing their pistols in the air.

Just what I need to vent my frustration, he thought eagerly as he gouged Durango in the flanks.

“Stay here,” he called over his shoulder to Natalie before he raced off like a bat out of hell.



Natalie watched Crow thunder through the dry arroyo, then scrabble uphill in pursuit of the bandits that halted the stagecoach. Despite Crow’s sharp command to stay put, she pulled her cap down on her forehead to conceal her identity and then took off after him. She might not be the best reinforcement for him, but she was available and willing and she could flash her pistol and look threatening.

However, if she had any sense she probably should ride to Taloga Springs alone and leave him to handle the situation by himself. For sure, Crow hadn’t been stimulating company the past few hours. Heavens, he couldn’t have been more standoffish if he had been in a different state! Natalie didn’t know what she had done to find herself on the icy side of his frosty disposition. She suspected that he regretted their intimacy and was trying to make a clean break.

Damn it, hadn’t he been listening to her? She had assured him that she expected nothing more than one night of passion. If consequences arose, she would deal with them. He would never know or feel obligated. She had his name on the legal document. That’s all she had ever asked of him.

Natalie nudged the strawberry roan up the steep embankment. Her horse stumbled in the loose gravel, then bolted sideways when more gunshots resounded around the canyon. Her concern for Crow overwhelmed her. She was afraid he had suffered injury and she needed to be there to help him—

She swallowed a yelp when her mount dropped to its knees in an effort to maintain its balance on the narrow ridge. Unprepared, Natalie went flying from the saddle. She groaned in pain when she slammed her shoulder into a slab of rock. She tumbled helter-skelter down the embankment, skinning both knees and her chin before bouncing to a stop.

When her horse bolted to its feet and shook himself, Natalie reached out with her good arm to grab the trailing reins. Every muscle screamed in protest as she came to her knees, only to be dragged downhill when the strawberry roan evidently decided there had to be an easier way to reach the elevated caprock and the road upon it.

“Stop…whoa, damn it,” she hissed. She yanked hard on the reins but the horse dragged her another ten yards before coming to a reluctant halt.

“Maybe you aren’t cut out for the Wild West, after all,” she muttered at herself as she wobbled unsteadily to her feet.

In fact, maybe she should return to New Orleans to confront her treacherous stepfather with her new suspicions. If he deliberately poisoned her mother, she vowed to see him hang for his crime. Or stand him in front of a firing squad.

Fool that she had been, she had accepted his explanation of her mother’s lingering illness and his claims that her doctors had tried to treat her without success.

Natalie vowed she was never going to take anyone’s word for anything without checking facts first. On that determined thought, she tugged on the horse’s reins, forcing him to follow her up the steep incline.



Van couldn’t see who had fired a shot from inside the coach to fight off the masked men, but the bullet plugged one outlaw in the arm. The second highwayman caught sight of Durango scrabbling uphill and twisted in the saddle to fire off a shot, but Van fired first. The bullet struck the man’s gun hand and the weapon flipped end over end then plunked onto the road. When both men tried to turn tail and ride off, Van held them at gunpoint with both six-shooters drawn and aimed directly at their chests.

“Get off your horses. Now!” Van barked ominously.

“Van?”

He glanced at the coach, surprised to see Bart Collier poke his head out the window. Well, that explained whose excellent marksmanship helped to thwart the holdup.

“What the blazes are you doing here?” Van asked as he retrieved two strands of rope from his saddlebag to restrain his prisoners. “Donovan Crow?” one of the masked men croaked. “Well, damn the luck!”

“We heard you got married and retired,” the other outlaw grumbled.

“Married? Yes. Retired? Not hardly. I live to arrest bandits like you.” Van secured the prisoners then quick- marched them to the stagecoach to check for available seating. There was no space for his prisoners.

“I guess you boys will have to ride horseback to town.” Van reversed direction to shovel them back to their horses.

“You shot us,” the first outlaw complained as Van jerked off the concealing mask. “We need medical attention, not a jarring ride to the calaboose.”

“The city marshal will see that you receive all the attention you have coming to you when you’re in jail,” Van said unsympathetically. “Until then you’ll hold.”

As was his custom with his prisoners, Van secured them in the saddle—backward—then tied their feet to the stirrups. He’d found the technique effective in discouraging escape attempts.

“You ain’t gonna last long,” the second brigand muttered at him. “I heard the Harper brothers are gunning for you. They claim they’re gonna dance on your grave, if they decide to go to the effort to dig one.”

The attempt to frighten and intimidate Van was a waste of breath. He’d heard it all before—most of it more degrading and insulting than this. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll be on the lookout.” Van led the bandits to the rear of the stagecoach, then secured the reins. “I’m sure you boys prefer to see where you’ve been, because I guarantee you won’t like where you’re going.”

The thieves proceeded to tell Van where he could go and what he could do with himself when he got there, but Van had heard that before, too, so he ignored the bandits.

He halted Durango beside the window. He noted the film of dust on Bart’s bowler hat and the lack of a sling on his arm. Then he surveyed Bart’s fellow passengers—a man and two brazenly dressed females. They looked the type who displayed their wares in brothels—of which there were a half dozen in the raucous town beside two converging cattle trails.

“You didn’t say why you’re here, Bart,” he prompted.

Bart glanced this way and that. “It’s a private matter that can wait until we reach town.”

“What about those three bullies jailed in Wolf Ridge?” Van asked.

Bart pushed his drooping glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “They’ll hold… Where is your wife?”

He hitched his thumb toward the labyrinth of rugged canyons that dropped off the caprock. “I left her down below.”

He didn’t mention that he was royally irritated with her for not telling him who and what she was. He spitefully considered letting her make her own way to Taloga Springs. She thought she could fend for herself in the wilderness, did she? Then let her try. What did he care? He’d been paid in full and she had lied to him repeatedly—about everything!

He glanced over his shoulder at the rugged canyon and wondered if he could live with himself if she came to harm before he delivered her safely to town. He blew out his breath, then reined Durango in the direction he had come. “Rent us rooms at the Wildhorse Hotel, will you, Bart? It has the best accommodations in town, though that isn’t saying much. We’ll talk later.”

“Count on it,” Bart said grimly as he settled against the back of the coach seat.

“Mr. Crow! Wait up! I have a proposition for you.”

Van glanced back at the bulky, well-dressed man who sat across from Bart in the stagecoach. The older man wore thick spectacles and boasted a full head of gray hair.

“Sorry, I’m in the middle of an assignment at the moment.” He inclined his head toward Bart. “This is my business agent. You can take up the matter with him.”

Van trotted Durango to the edge of the caprock then looked down to locate Natalie. Despite feeling betrayed and irritated, he frowned in concern when he saw her horse grazing at the base of a ravine, but he couldn’t see her. Damn it, hadn’t he told her to stay put? When had she ever?

Since her clothing blended in with the tan and brown layers of rock near the base of the cliff, it took Van a moment to spot her. She was climbing to her feet and dusting herself off. Apparently, she had taken a spill.

Van eased Durango down the steep incline, letting the sure-footed gelding pick the best route. When he reached Natalie, he noticed her skinned knees and skinned chin. A layer of dust coated her clothing.

“Which excuse are you going with this time?” He settled his stony gaze on her. “You didn’t hear me? You forgot what I said? Or you just weren’t listening?”

She slanted him an annoyed glance—which didn’t faze him in the least because he was aggravated with her for a dozen good reasons. For starters, she had lied to him about why she wanted to marry him. Secondly, she had ulterior motives for wanting to learn to fend for herself so she could lay low—in case bounty hunters chased her when her name appeared on Wanted posters for abduction, theft and who knew what other crimes.

“I guess I must have been thinking about something else,” she said smartly. “Like trying to provide you with backup, in case those bandits blasted away at you.”

“You were going to cover me?” Crow crowed incredulously.

She tilted her skinned chin upward. “Yes, I was. But as mean and nasty as you are sometimes, I don’t know why I bothered.”

She limped toward her horse, then gingerly pulled herself into the saddle. Van suspected she had more bruises and scrapes from her tumble downhill than were visible.

Not that I care, he thought resentfully. She had bruised his pride and betrayed his trust. She didn’t deserve his sympathy. What she was about to receive from him—when they reached town—was a relentless grilling. He wasn’t going to let up on her until she had spilled the truth. The whole truth and nothing but!

“Hurry up,” he snapped as he reined Durango toward the ridge. “Bart is in the stagecoach and I have two prisoners I need to stuff in the calaboose for safekeeping.”

“Bart is here? Why?”

“He says we’ll discuss the reason in private, not with a stagecoach filled with strangers.”

Van nudged Durango uphill, leaving Natalie to follow in his wake. He kicked himself all the way to town for misjudging the spirited chit he had married. He had half a mind to ask Bart to begin divorce proceedings immediately. He shouldn’t let her cower behind his professional reputation. She could find some other gullible fool to marry the second time. He wanted to be done with her once and for all.

Damn it, how was it possible for their incredibly intimate tryst in the dark of night to turn so sour in the light of day? And so much for his unerring ability to judge a person’s character. Apparently, he was blind and stupid when it came to women.

Blind and stupid when it came to his wife, he amended as he trotted off without looking back.