by Carol Finch
He hurriedly dried off, then pulled a clean set of clothes from his saddlebag. He rolled his dirty laundry around the bundles of money, crammed them in his leather pouch and stuffed it under the mattress.
For a few moments he contemplated the impulsive urge to turn his back on his profession, ride off to buy himself a few acres in an isolated area of Texas and avoid the complications of so-called civilization.
It was a tempting thought.
After a decade of battling cutthroats and inclement weather he was burned out and fed up with being a guardian angel for folks who wouldn’t give him the time of day if he weren’t saving their incompetent necks.
Jonah had volunteered to join the Texas Rangers for two reasons—one idealistic and one realistic. Given his mixed heritage, it wasn’t easy to find work, and the Rangers were anxious to recruit sharpshooting survivalists who had few obligations that tied them down. In addition, Jonah had been taught to respect the fearless battalions of Rangers who had become the epitome of law enforcement on the frontier.
It was said that Rangers could ride like Mexicans, track like Indians, shoot like mountain men and fight like the very devil. The Mexicans referred to them as Tejanos Diablos—Texas devils—and the Comanches held a grudging respect for them.
When Jonah was a young warrior of twelve his father had led him through some rugged terrain and told him to observe the impressive tactics of the Rangers. Jonah had watched and learned that day when outnumbered Rangers had pitted themselves against ruthless outlaws that preyed on Indians and whites alike. To his amazement, the courageous Rangers had won a decisive battle. The small battalion of hard-bitten, eagle-eyed crack shots had stared death in the face with fearless defiance and charged full steam ahead.
“Rangers don’t fight like white men,” Jonah’s father had said. “More like Comanches. They make dangerous enemies. Never forget that.”
The incident had made a strong and lasting impression on Jonah.
Jonah strapped on his holster, tucked a dagger in his boot—and one in his shirtsleeve—and wondered as he had before if his departed father would be pleased to know his son had become a Texas devil. For certain, his father would be relieved to know that Jonah had not been confined to the hated reservation, forced to depend on the army to feed and clothe him, and left with his pride in tatters.
Guilt slammed into him, as it did on too many occasions. He was free to choose his profession, while his oppressed people were left to the mercy of the government and the army.
Frustration and resentment put him in a sour mood. Jonah strode over to chug a drink of whiskey. He couldn’t help his vanquished people any more than he could change his mixed heritage. Life, he’d discovered, wasn’t a damn bit fair. But a man had to play the hand fate dealt him. Jonah had cheated death several times and counted himself lucky to be in one piece—more or less.
He stepped into the hall and locked the door behind him. If he’d thought to do that before he’d trudged wearily up the steps and collapsed in exhaustion, he could have avoided Maddie Garret’s unwanted intrusion. Now he was stuck with her money. He was certain he hadn’t seen the last of that animated and highly articulate female.
The answer was still no, he decided. Maddie could find herself another guardian and protector. Jonah inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he ambled down the hall. Maybe a decent meal would relieve his black mood. He’d be damned if he’d spend this hiatus sulking, wishing there was more to life than what he’d gotten. For sure, he was going to find a willing female who cared more about a few moments of pleasure than she did about the color of his skin. As long as the room was dark it didn’t matter who appeased a man or woman’s needs. Only that both walked away satisfied.
He set his mind on forgetting that the feisty Maddie Garret existed, but even as he crossed the street to enter the barbershop, a beguiling vision loomed large in his mind. He wondered where she was, wondered if she was concocting another fantastic tale of woe to feed some unsuspecting pigeon that might be lured in by her arresting beauty and her sharp intelligence.
She was probably devising a scheme to steal more money to add to the stash of cash she’d thrust at Jonah for safekeeping. If Maddie Garret turned out to be a shyster and con artist, he would derive tremendous pleasure in herding her to jail.
Furthermore, he didn’t approve of the way his body reacted to her, didn’t appreciate the immediate physical attraction. It made him feel vulnerable and defensive. She was a distraction of the worst sort. Jonah refused to get involved because he doubted she was telling him the whole truth—and nothing but.
The sooner she left town the happier Jonah would be.
Maddie crawled beneath the loose boards near the foundation of the livery stable, then sank down beside her satchel. Legs drawn up, she rested her elbows on her knees and covered her flushed face with her hands. Seeing Jonah Danhill rise from the tub like a mystical Greek god had shattered her composure completely. She was certain the sight of his muscular body would be emblazoned on her mind for all eternity.
How could she ever gaze at him again without remembering the way he looked naked? But she had to confront him again, because she had left the ransom money in his care.
Inhaling a bracing breath, Maddie glanced around the shadowy confines of the livery. She suspected she wasn’t the first unfortunate soul who had taken refuge here.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since she had stepped down from the coach and dined at the crude stage station west of Fort Worth the previous afternoon. The meal had been inedible and the companionship lousy. The threat of those two men hovering around like vultures, waiting to separate her from her money, had kept her in a nervous state of constant alert.
Maddie marshaled her resolve by reminding herself that her fear and frustration were nothing compared to the frightening nightmare Christina was enduring. Her sister was all the family she had left in this world, and despite the disheartening obstacles in her path, Maddie vowed to stand strong.
Even while the noble thought blazed through her mind, she felt her body slump in exhaustion. She had been operating on raw nerves for days on end. It would have been so easy to throw up her hands in defeat and fall apart, right where she sat. But her concern for Christina refused to allow her to give up this crusade. Her sister was counting on her.
Hold your head up high, daughter, her father used to say. Garrets don’t mope around with their chins scraping their chests. No one promised life would be easy. You just keep placing one foot in front of the other and don’t let the troubles that come your way get you down.
The quiet voice that whispered in her heart usually provided inspiration, but today it brought only tears and a lost, empty feeling that tugged at her soul. Maddie sniffled, wiped the tears from her cheeks, then curled up in the straw. Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and forced herself to unwind emotionally and allow her tense body to relax.
After giving herself an hour to rest, and ensuring that gathering darkness would work to her advantage, Maddie eased between the dangling boards and slithered from the livery. Clinging to the shadows, she stepped onto the boardwalk to return to the hotel to confront Jonah again. She intended to leave town at daybreak, and that bullheaded Texas Ranger was going to be riding horseback beside her, she vowed resolutely. He could come willingly—or not. His choice. But he was definitely accompanying her to West Texas to save Christina.
Maddie recoiled in alarm when an unseen hand snaked out to clamp over the lower portion of her face. She was jerked roughly back against a foul-smelling body.
“Gotcha,” one of the scoundrels sniggered in her ear.
Helpless frustration hammered through Maddie when her captor hooked his free arm around her waist, left her feet dangling in midair and carted her into the alley. She battled for all she was worth to escape imminent disaster, quickly discovering that it wasn’t fear that ruled her chaotic emotions, it was fury. She struck her heels against the man’s s
hins and bit a chunk out of his hand, forcing him to release her.
Once she was free to snatch a quick breath, Maddie screamed bloody murder, ducked her head and plowed into the second man, who stood directly in her escape route to the boardwalk. She was not going down without a fight, she promised herself as the top of her head collided with the man’s soft underbelly.
Maddie darted sideways when he swore foully and stumbled over his feet. She thought she was home free as she sprinted toward the street, but his partner tackled her from behind and sent her pitching forward in the dirt. Arms flailing wildly, Maddie kicked like a mule and screamed again at the top of her lungs. Expecting to be clubbed on the head with the butt end of a pistol any moment now, she flopped this way and that, hoping someone would hear her shouts of alarm and come to her rescue.
And sure enough, a hard thump connected with her skull, causing a starburst of color to explode around her. Maddie wilted in the dirt.
The world spun out of focus and swallowed her in silence.
Chapter Two
Jonah was in the restaurant, savoring a bite of juicy steak that had been cooked to his specifications, when he heard a feminine shriek in the distance. Although the other customers merely glanced curiously toward the door, Jonah drew his Colt and was on his feet in a single bound.
The second shriek put Jonah in a dead run, and he followed the sound to an alley that was two doors down from the restaurant. The instant he spotted the downed female being dragged deeper into the shadows by two men, Jonah charged like a one-man army. He sent one of the men to his knees with a well-aimed kick to the groin. A doubled fist to the jaw left the other spinning like a top before he collapsed in the dirt.
Jonah reached down to grab a handful of Maddie’s soiled gown and hoisted her up beside him. When her legs folded up like a tent, he curled his injured arm around her waist to lend support. Despite the pain that was throbbing like a son of a bitch in his shoulder he gave her a shake to rouse her to consciousness.
Big mistake, Jonah realized. She came to, fighting to escape. “Hold still, damn it,” he growled. “It’s just me.”
“About time you showed up,” she muttered as she sagged heavily against him.
“You’re welcome,” he snapped sarcastically.
The feel of her full breasts meshed to his chest and her lower abdomen pressing against his hip were vivid reminders of his unwanted response to this troublesome woman. Hell and damnation, she affected him worse than a rattlesnake bite.
Despite the ache in his left arm, he didn’t nudge Maddie away as he should have, just steadied her against him. He vented his frustration on the two men, who were staring warily at the speaking end of his Colt.
“If you boys lay your hands on my wife again I’ll blow them off at the wrists,” he snarled—and wondered why he had claimed she was his wife. Dealing with Maddie had obviously made him crazy. It was the only explanation.
“Your wife?” the men echoed in unison.
“That’s right,” Jonah confirmed. “If you go near her there will be hell to pay. Do we understand each other?”
Both men nodded, then one of them said, “But Maddie is still a thief and she has our money. We’ll let the town marshal deal with her if she doesn’t give it back!”
The familiar use of her name and the challenging remark triggered another round of uncertainties in Jonah. Maybe Maddie was the world’s biggest con artist and she had stolen their money, but these two rascals weren’t going to drag her off by her heels, search her person and spitefully use her to appease their lust. No matter who or what she really was Jonah refused to stand aside and see her mauled.
“It is not their money,” Maddie muttered as Jonah drew her backward toward the street. “I don’t know who they are. I swear it. They are nothing but clever—”
When her voice evaporated and she slumped against him, Jonah grimaced at the excessive pressure on his injured arm. He glanced down to see Maddie’s head loll against his chest and her uncoiled hair cascade over his wrist. She’d fainted, he realized. And most likely at her convenience.
Muttering at the constant inconvenience this female caused him, he scooped her up in his arms and pivoted toward the hotel. The bystanders who had congregated in the alley parted like a curtain as he carried her across the street.
Jonah made the mistake of glancing down into Maddie’s ashen face when he stepped into the lighted hotel lobby. She reminded him of a fairy princess who only needed a prince’s kiss to revive her. Well, she might be akin to a princess—who knew for sure?—but he sure as hell was no Prince Charming. He was not going to yield to the temptation of kissing her because he didn’t want to know how she tasted. He was afraid he’d like it too much.
“My God, what happened to your wife?” Charley Halbert, the hotel proprietor, asked in concern.
“Too much excitement. She fainted.” Jonah inclined his head toward the door. “Would you trot across the street to pick up my unfinished dinner?” He stared pensively at Maddie, wondering if she’d taken time to eat while she was on the run. As an afterthought he added, “And order a steak for my wife, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Danhill. Always glad to help a Ranger, ever since a Ranger helped me out of a scrape once.” Charley darted off while Jonah ascended the steps.
He resituated Maddie in his good arm and retrieved the key from his pocket. She roused with a wobbly moan as he carried her into the room to deposit her on his bed. He watched her blink a couple of times to get her bearings before those mesmerizing, tawny-colored eyes settled on him. She appraised his faded black shirt, breeches and scuffed boots before she gazed at his face.
“You got your hair cut,” she said sluggishly.
“Thanks for noticing. You fainted. When was the last time you ate?” Jonah didn’t trust himself to sit beside her on the bed, so he propped himself against the wall.
Maddie levered herself onto an elbow, raked the disheveled tendrils of golden hair away from her face and said, “Yesterday. And thank you for coming to my rescue. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful earlier. Being mauled, tackled and pounded on the head made me testy.”
Jonah was on the move in one second flat to determine if she did indeed have a knot on her head or if she was using the ploy to gain his sympathy. Sure enough, his fingertips skimmed over a noticeable swelling. Switching directions, he grabbed the pitcher from the commode, dribbled water onto a towel and placed the compress against her head. She winced slightly at the contact, then brushed his hand away to hold the wet cloth against her injury.
She stared him squarely in the eye again. “Why did you tell those men that I was your wife?”
“Damned if I know,” Jonah replied flippantly. “It just sort of popped out of my mouth. It seemed a legitimate reason to demand that they keep their distance from you.”
She cocked her head and studied him for another long, contemplative moment. “You don’t like me very much, do you, Mr. Danhill?”
“It’s Jonah. And no, I don’t,” he said candidly. “But don’t take it personally. I don’t like anyone very much.”
His plainspoken comment caused the corners of her Cupid’s bow mouth to curve upward, and Jonah felt another unwanted jolt of attraction sizzling through his unruly body.
“I’m not particularly fond of men in general,” she admitted. “Most of them seem to harbor ulterior motives. It has been my experience not to trust what they say until I see what they are willing to do, and determine how far they are willing to go to get what they want.”
Jonah decided Maddie’s insight was right on the mark. But natural suspicion made him wonder if this quick-thinking female was simply trying to get on his good side by agreeing with his wary approach to life.
“Half of the men I know try to flatter me while they court me for my inheritance. The other half seem intent on stealing it outright,” she added, then frowned curiously at him. “My money is in a safe place, I hope?”
“You’re
lying on top of it,” Jonah informed her. “Whether it’s yours or not, I stuffed it under the mattress.”
She got that determined look on her face again as she leaned toward him. “I am telling you the truth. Didn’t I own up to the fact right off that I lied to the hotel proprietor in order to enter your room?”
Jonah scoffed. “An honest liar. That’s a new one.” He flashed her a sardonic glance. “My faith in your integrity and sincerity is growing by leaps and bounds.”
She jerked up her delicate chin and thrust back her shoulders in offended dignity. Jonah’s attention immediately dropped to the full swells of her breasts and he cursed himself inventively for becoming distracted.
“Fibbing to the hotel manager is the only thing I have lied to you about. And that is the truth,” she declared. “I am the innocent victim here!”
“I’ve heard the same claim of innocence from every lying, cheating criminal I’ve hauled to jail,” he said cynically.
“I am not a criminal,” Maddie maintained. “How many times do I have to tell you that my sister and I are victims before you believe it?” She huffed out a frustrated breath. “If you weren’t so pigheaded you might be able to figure that out…!”
Her voice trailed off as she grabbed her aching head. She continued in a softer tone. “Name your price for escorting me home, Jonah. In addition to paying you in cold hard cash I’ll even promise to be nice to you during the journey.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest and stared her down. “Given that decent folks are rarely nice to me—except when they want something—and the scoundrels I encounter curse me to hell and back, that might serve as incentive. But I’m not inclined to tramp through West Texas.”