by Carol Finch
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.
Chapter Eight
Natalie managed to get only a smidgeon of sleep that night. But having Crow’s inviting warmth beside her and fretting about the circulating report of her so-called abduction made her anxious. There was no telling what scheme Marsh had hatched in his attempt to track her down.
Obviously, her stepfather had left no stone unturned and spared no expense. The far-reaching report would make it difficult to travel any direction without concern for her safety. She presumed Marsh had offered a reward for information.
Money he planned to pay from my inheritance if he manages to get his greedy hands on it, she thought bitterly.
The next morning, preoccupied with thoughts of Marsh and Kimball, Natalie nodded a greeting to the Rangers, who had bedded down at the camp site. She scurried around, building a campfire according to Crow’s specifications and preparing breakfast—also as Crow had taught her. At least she had mastered a few skills, she congratulated herself. Now, if she could cease depending on Crow in times of danger she might make real headway.
“Where did you say you called home?” Montgomery, the hazel-eyed, dark-haired Ranger, asked when she approached him.
Natalie thought fast. “Natchez, Mississippi.” It was where Marsh had sent her to a private college and where she had taught school for a time. “I came west to visit my aunt in San Antonio, then I met Crow,” she lied convincingly. “It was love at first sight.”
Montgomery arched a thick brow, then shrugged. “Whatever you say, ma’am. With Crow’s legendary reputation, you shouldn’t have to fret about your safety. Not too many people dare to cross him.”
Those were her thoughts exactly.
Bristow, the Ranger w
ith curly red hair, green eyes and an engaging smile said, “When Rangers descend on outlaws, we bring hell with us. Crows brings his own special brand of hell, I’m told. Which is why the soldiers who are cheating the Comanche and Kiowa have reason to fear him.”
“Crow cares very deeply about his clan and the tribes who raised him.” She glanced into the distance to see Crow diligently brushing down Durango before tossing a saddle on his back. “This Suggs character will answer for his corruption. Indeed, I will do all within my power to see him court-martialed and tossed in jail.”
And she would, too. There were advantages to being a Robedeaux and Blair. She would pull a few political strings to stop the fraud and abuse against the Indians who raised Crow.
Montgomery chuckled. “Did you become an advocate for Indians after you married Crow?”
“No, I strongly support any group of people subjected to domination and abuse,” she clarified. “Women also fall into that category, Mr. Montgomery. I don’t want to see anyone restrained or cheated.”
The Rangers lifted their cups for refills. Natalie poured coffee then stared questioningly at them. “Have any of you heard news about the Harper Gang that escaped jail recently?
Phelps shrugged a thick shoulder. “Nothing conclusive. I assume you’re asking because they swore vengeance against Crow.”
“I care a great deal about my husband,” she assured them. “I intend to protect him from harm by all means necessary.”
The Rangers stared skeptically at her. They didn’t seem to think that, being a woman, she could protect anyone from anything. But they also didn’t consider a man in Crow’s line of work valued marriage material. Well, they were wrong. She meant it when she said Crow was perfect for her.
An hour later, the Comanche braves and the Rangers rode north. Natalie hurried off to dismantle the improvised tent and gather her belongings. Crow smiled approvingly when she strapped the supplies and luggage behind her saddle.