Carol Finch (14 page)

Piper wasn’t surprised that Quinn ignored the question. She had discovered early on that Quinn only offered information sparingly. Apparently, he planned to let the desperadoes stew in their own juice for the night.

To her amusement she watched Quinn shake out the bedroll then encircled it with the pistols, rifles and knives that he had confiscated from his captives. After she and Quinn bedded down side by side, the Comanches retrieved their gear and returned to camp to guard the prisoners.

Well, so much for the complete intimate knowledge she had hoped to gain of Quinn tonight, she thought, disheartened.

“Maybe this was a sign that it wasn’t meant to be,” Quinn murmured as he stretched out next to her, placing himself directly between her and the string of bandits.

She levered herself up on her elbow to peer down at him. “Or perhaps it was just a sign that this was the wrong time and place.” She smiled impishly. “I’m still holding you to our agreement, so don’t think you can weasel out of it.”

The smoldering look he flashed her served to soothe her disappointment. Then his expression sobered. “This is when you sleep with one eye open,” he insisted. “Never take for granted that just because men are tied up that they can’t find some way to get loose. So don’t get
too
comfortable.”

She cast the banditos a wary glance as she settled beside him on the pallet.

“And Piper?”

Her gaze swung back to him. “Yes?”

“Thanks for staying where I left you. I needed to know you were safe so I could focus on my duties.”

She pulled a face at him. “I can help you the most by doing nothing at all? You might as well come right out and say I have no use whatsoever.”

“You have your
use.
We just got interrupted.”

Her head snapped up, and she was tempted to whack him soundly on the head for insulting her. When she noticed the teasing grin that quirked his lips she settled her ruffled feathers.

“A shame that,” she replied saucily. “Because I had planned for
you
to be well used and completely worn out by this time of night.”

When his jaw fell open and he gaped at her, she turned her back on him. She was pleased with herself for giving him food for thought while they both slept with one eye open, deprived of their chance to take up where they had left off an hour earlier.

The next morning Piper awakened to the sound of voices and the smell of coffee brewing on the campfire. Apparently Quinn had rummaged through the bandits’ saddlebags to make use of their supplies. She presumed the warriors had been hunting again because there were two rabbits roasting over the fire.

Her mouth watered in hungry anticipation.

Rolling to her feet, Piper ambled over to survey the other items Quinn had confiscated from the saddlebags. Her gaze widened in alarm when she recognized a jewel-studded ring and gold watch that were among the stolen loot.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn questioned warily.

“These belong to my father,” she murmured as she stared at a large wad of bank notes that lay beside the watch. “He must have figured out where I was going and decided to come after me himself.”

The prospect of her father meeting with calamity because he was chasing after her was unsettling. Piper wanted her freedom but certainly not at her father’s expense. Conversely, the thought of reaching her destination, only to have Roarke waiting to cart her back to Galveston sent her spirits plummeting.

Confound it, if not for the holdup and delays she might have reunited with her sister before Roarke arrived. The last thing Piper wanted was for Penelope to have to deal with their father’s unexpected arrival alone.

A sense of urgency had Piper pacing around camp, busying herself with rolling up the pallet and tucking away supplies. Quinn must have sensed her apprehension for he was on his feet, keeping pace beside her.

“I questioned the bandits about the stage robbery. It didn’t take place on the same stretch of road where we were held up,” he assured her. “The three passengers were unharmed, but they were left to walk the last several miles to the next stage stop.”

Piper’s shoulders sagged in relief. Her father had been robbed, but he was unhurt. Now all she had to do was deal with his temper. No doubt, the inconveniences he had endured during the trip would do nothing to sweeten his disposition.

“We’ll head for Catoosa Gulch after breakfast,” Quinn informed her. “As soon as I jail these outlaws and
notify my commander I’ll take you to the fort.” He grasped her arm to halt her nervous pacing. “I will also be there to ensure Roarke doesn’t force you onto an eastbound stage with him.”

Piper smiled appreciatively at his insistent tone. “Thank you. I’m not looking forward to that confrontation, but I will handle Papa myself. There is no need for you to escort me to my sister if I can catch a stage headed south.”

“We made a deal,” Quinn reminded her. “One of several bargains we made. There is also the matter of the license. If nothing else, you will have that…if you still want it.”

“I wanted more,” she told him honestly, then glanced at the string of Mexican prisoners whose unexpected arrival last night had interrupted them at an inopportune moment. “But we don’t always get our way, do we?”

“No, sometimes we get what’s best.”

Quinn gestured for Piper to make use of one of the saddled horses rather than riding bareback. He could tell by her hurried motions that she was anxious to get moving. Her plans were falling apart around her and she dreaded the confrontation with her father.

It amazed Quinn that he was more concerned about resolving Piper’s problems than assembling a strike force to attack the stronghold so he could avenge Taylor Briggs’s death. Damn it, he had lost his single-minded focus this past week. It was impossible to concentrate on his mission when Piper preoccupied his thoughts.

Wheeling around, Quinn strode over to dole out food
to his captives. He noticed that Piper had separated herself from the men and chose to take her meal alone. No doubt, she was mentally rehearsing what she intended to say to Roarke.

He should have made a beeline to the garrison, Quinn scolded himself. If he had, Piper and Penelope could have presented a united force when Roarke showed up.

Although Quinn had heard that old cliché about how things usually worked out for the best he had never really believed it. He had been there on too many occasions to observe how things worked out for the absolute
worst.
But despite Piper’s determination to face her father alone, Quinn intended to be there to provide reinforcement.

He had come to care more for Piper than he should have and he couldn’t ride away until he knew her life was back on course. He vowed to make damn sure that she acquired the freedom and independence that meant so much to her.

If
he
had any say in the matter, Piper was going to get her heart’s desire. She sure as hell deserved it after all that he had unintentionally put her through the past several days.

Roarke Sullivan was not in the best of moods while he hiked downhill to the crude station that stood right smack dab in the middle of nowhere. He had been cramped up on a train, and then a stagecoach for three days. Then he had been robbed at gunpoint and forced to walk half the night. He had to rely on the kindness of the proprietor to provide a meager meal because his money had been stolen, along with his valuable ring and his watch.

Begging for charity did not set any better with Roarke than being robbed.

The meal he choked down was the worst food he had ever tasted. The thought of Piper being subjected to these despicable accommodations incensed Roarke. Worse, the prospect of never seeing Piper again haunted his every waking hour.

When Roarke finished his tasteless meal he was offered a straw mat on the floor to catch a nap while he and the other two male passengers waited for the next stage. While he lay there staring up at the cobwebs on the ceiling, he wondered if he would reach a community that had a bank or telegraph office. He needed to replenish his funds to complete this disastrous journey.

A trip to hell and back,
he thought as he rolled to his side and closed his eyes. He was never venturing this far west until the railroad was up and running, he promised himself. And how in God’s name had Penelope adjusted and survived in this vast wasteland that was rife with bandits, scorpions, rattlers and who knew what other vicious varmints?

For sure and certain, Penelope was coming back to Galveston to resume her rightful place as heir to the Sullivan fortune. As far as Roarke was concerned, her no-account husband could sit out here by himself and rot. The man should be shot for forcing his blue-blooded wife to endure such a dismal existence.

Captain Matthew Duncan better believe that Roarke was going to have a few things to say about dragging Penelope out to hell’s fringe and forcing her to live like a commoner!

P
iper was enormously relieved when the procession veered down from the treacherous stone ledges and V-shaped ravines to follow a broad valley that led southwest. When Quinn noticed riders approaching from the west he grabbed one of the Mexican’s wide-brimmed sombreros and crammed it on Piper’s head. She stared curiously at him when he draped one of the men’s grimy serapes over her shoulders.

“No sense putting you at risk,” he explained. “The disguise isn’t as effective as the snippy old widow Agatha’s, but this will keep you from drawing unwanted attention. Just keep your head down.”

Piper ducked her head and pulled the foul-smelling serape around her. She made a mental note to rent a hotel room in the community where Quinn said they would stop. The hat and garment reeked of whiskey and sweat and she couldn’t wait to cast them aside, draw in a fresh breath of air and enjoy a long-awaited bath.

Her attention shifted to the six rugged-looking riders that trotted toward them. She watched interestedly when a smile kicked up the corners of Quinn’s mouth and he raised his hand in greeting.

“Well, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” the man with the salt-and pepper-colored hair said as he halted beside Quinn. His sharp-eyed gaze settled on the Mexican captives. “Looks like you’ve been busy. We’ve been searching the area for the past few days and we seem to have been a few steps behind the road agents.” His disapproving stare landed squarely on the Comanche warriors. “Why aren’t these renegades bound up?”

When Quinn gestured for the riders to follow him out of earshot, then motioned for Piper to join them, she trotted forward. She was inordinately pleased that Quinn was considerate enough to include her in the conversation. She wanted to reach out and hug him, but she ducked her head and hunched her shoulders forward instead.

“I deputized these warriors,” Quinn announced. “They are former acquaintances. They also know this country as well as I do. I request that you pull a few strings, Commander Butler, and take advantage of the expertise they can offer during the strike against the bandits’ hideout.”

Piper blinked, suddenly aware that this ragtag group of men was a battalion of Rangers. They wore no distinguished uniforms to set them apart from brigands. They looked as hard-bitten and well armed as Quinn. She assumed they made it a practice to conceal their badges until proper identification was necessary.

“What tribe do they hail from?” Butler questioned as he carefully studied the warriors’ buckskin garments. “Look like Comanches to me.”

“They are.” Quinn smiled wryly as he glanced back at Red Hawk and Spotted Deer. “They pointed me in the direction of the Knights’ stronghold in Dead Man’s Canyon. They also helped me scout the hideout in preparation for our attack.”

Commander Butler eyed the warriors speculatively. “Are you sure they are reliable?”

Quinn nodded. “I will take full responsibility for them. Their English is practically nonexistent, but you can communicate with them in Spanish.”

After the company of frontier fighters nodded agreeably, Butler shrugged. “If you can vouch for them, then they are hired as scouts.”

“Thank you, sir.” Quinn frowned curiously at the assembled battalion. “I thought you were waiting for my missive before you rode out here. What changed your plans?”

Butler pulled off his dusty hat and slapped it against his thigh. “We were sent out to locate a kidnap victim. So far we haven’t had any luck tracking her down. Which doesn’t bode well for the poor woman, I’m afraid.” He arched a questioning brow. “Ever heard of the Sullivans from Galveston?”

Piper jerked up her head, her confused gaze darting to Quinn who wore a carefully neutral expression.
Kidnap victim?
Where had that ridiculous rumor come from?

“I’ve heard the name,” Quinn replied blandly.

“According to the girl’s father, she was abducted and
was presumed to have been on a stage bound for Fort Davis. Can’t fathom how Mr. Sullivan knew that, but he sent us to rescue the girl.”

Quinn smiled faintly.
He
could fathom how that might have happened. No doubt, Roarke had twisted the story a bit to make sure that he acquired the assistance of the Rangers.

The man didn’t waste time with underlings, Quinn mused. Roarke had gone straight to the top to enlist the services of the state’s most reputable fighting force. Then he must have decided to head west to be on hand when Piper was located—
if
she were located.

“Unfortunately,” Lieutenant Vance Cooper spoke up, “we have reason to believe that she might have disguised herself to elude her captor. We found evidence of a woman passenger on the doomed stage that wrecked on a cliff.” He grinned in relief. “We figured you might be on the same stage and we were damned worried about you, Cal. Guess you’ve got as many lives as a cat or you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I
was
on that stage,” Quinn confirmed. “Close call.”

Butler’s thick brows rose sharply. “Was there a female passenger with you? Did she mention that she escaped from her captor? Do you know if she’s still alive?”

Quinn reached over to pluck the sombrero off Piper’s head, allowing her curly blond hair to cascade around her shoulders. All six men’s eyes popped in surprise as they stared at her. “Does Piper fit the description you were given?”

Butler nodded as he stared at Piper in astonishment.
“You have been in the wilds with Cal this entire time, Miss Sullivan?”

“Yes, sir,” Piper replied, then smiled wryly. “It has been an eventful week.”

“But how did you elude your kidnapper?” Butler questioned, bemused.

When she squirmed uneasily beneath the commander’s probing stare Quinn spoke on her behalf—and then realized he was probably stepping on her independent toes. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding. Miss Sullivan left on her own accord. Her father must not have been fully aware of the circumstances surrounding her disappearance.”

“That is Callahan’s subtle way of saying that my father obviously resorted to any method necessary to see that you tracked me down,” Piper interjected. “I also know that he was on the stage that was robbed by these Mexican bandoleros. I identified his ring and watch among the stolen items Quinn confiscated from them. I can’t say how much money he was carrying, but I’m sure part of the cash Quinn recovered belongs to him.”

She frowned worriedly. “Did you send word to my father that I might have died in the stage wreck?”

Commander Butler shifted uneasily in the saddle. “Yes, ma’am, I did. I’m sorry. But we couldn’t fathom how anyone could have survived that disastrous wreck.” He glanced curiously at Quinn. “Just how
did
you get out of that stage alive?”

“Long story,” Quinn said. “I’ll explain it later.”

The commander opened his mouth, then clamped it
shut. Clearly he was curious about the details of the holdup, but Quinn had more pressing matters to discuss.

“Our foremost concern is jailing these outlaws and formulating a plan of attack,” Quinn insisted. “The bandits will become suspicious when their Mexican cohorts don’t return to the hideout promptly.”

When the Rangers reined back in the direction they had come Quinn requested that the Comanches bring the prisoners forward. The procession picked up the pace and trotted west.

“We have received some disturbing information since we last contacted you, Cal,” the commander reported grimly. “We have been informed of a plot to lure in Rangers for extermination.”

Quinn jerked up his head and frowned. “What sort of conspiracy are we facing?”

“The Knights of the Golden Circle are trying to rid themselves of as many Rangers as possible for capturing and killing their cohorts and kinfolk,” Butler elaborated. “We think the reason for this rash of robberies in the area is twofold. Not only are these bandits padding their pockets with stolen money and the profits from horses and cattle, but also they are trying to gain our attention. They are trying to provoke us into coming after them.”

“You will understand why they want us to come to them when you get a look at their stronghold in Dead Man’s Canyon,” Quinn muttered. “With its steep cliffs, the box canyon they’ve got set up makes one hell of a fortress. There is one obvious way in and we will be sitting ducks if we strike as a united force.”

He hitched his thumb over his shoulder. “That’s another reason why the Comanches will be beneficial to our siege. They can lead a flank of men along the little-known trails on the ridges. Our only hope of success is to surprise the outlaws that are tramping all over sacred Comanche burial ground.”

Butler glanced back at the warriors. “That should guarantee that they don’t try to double-cross us.”

“Double-crosses are not the Comanche way,” Quinn said in defense of his adopted clan. “It has always been the white man who goes back on his word repeatedly.” Long-held bitterness crept into his voice. “You get the truth from the Comanche, whether you want to hear it or not.”

The Rangers chuckled in amusement and six pairs of eyes settled speculatively on Quinn.

“So that’s where that trait of yours comes from,” Cooper mused aloud. “Always wondered about that.”

Quinn knew he had nothing on Piper these days when it came to outright honesty. She had begun to speak her mind, even when there were times when he wished she would keep some of those unsettling thoughts to herself. He did not, however, voice that comment to his companions. But he and Piper did exchange significant glances. He swore she knew what he was thinking when she smiled impishly at him.

“I’ve been a Comanche longer than I have been white. But the point is that these warriors are trustworthy, experienced in battle and they won’t betray our cause. I’ll stake my reputation on that.”

“Then we won’t be wary about relying on them to
guard our backs, if necessary,” Cooper declared, then frowned curiously. “How many Rangers do you think it will take to seal off the canyon and make a strike on the bandits?”

“How many men can we spare for this siege?” Quinn asked.

“We have a battalion at Van Horn that consists of eight seasoned fighters. It would take at least a day to contact our reinforcements.”

“If we have explosives and considerable firepower at our disposal, then we should be able to launch an attack,” Quinn speculated. “We spotted two dozen outlaws milling around the hideout. These five Mexicans will be out of commission, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other road agents targeting banks and nearby ranches that have yet to report in.”

“Oh, good. Outnumbered again,” Butler said, and snorted. “Can’t imagine what it would be like to engage in a battle where we weren’t on the short end of lopsided odds.”

Piper was greatly relieved when the men picked up the pace. She wasn’t sure where her father was, but if she could reach the garrison before he surprised Penelope she would be grateful. She could only hope that discovering that she was alive would make Roarke easier to deal with. But she had the unmistakable feeling that her near-brush with catastrophe would have the opposite effect on him.

Quinn dropped back beside her as the procession moved west. “Discovering that you’re alive and well should soften up your father,” Quinn said, smiling en
couragingly at her. “Roarke might be so relieved that he’ll be more receptive to your announcement of independence and agree to anything.”

Piper snorted in contradiction. “If you knew my father you would realize that he will likely blame
me
for putting him through undue stress. He will be outraged that I put myself in danger.” She frowned contemplatively. “I’m beginning to wonder if the purpose of his journey southwest, upon hearing that I might have perished, is to drag my sister back to become the surviving heir. The fur will fly if Papa demands that Penny pack up and leave her husband.”

Quinn studied her speculatively. “Perhaps your sister is tired of doing without luxuries and yearns for a more active social life,” he ventured.

Piper tilted her chin and said, “Penny is devoted to Matthew. It is a Sullivan family trait. We do not bail out when things become difficult. If that were the case, I would still be bawling my head off back in one of those nameless canyons and demanding that you take me to Galveston.”

Quinn shrugged a broad shoulder. “It wouldn’t be the first time a woman with stars in her eyes came west to join her husband at an isolated fort, then had a change of heart. I’ve seen it happen repeatedly.”

“We Sullivans are not fainthearted,” Piper said defensively. “When you meet Penny you will realize how badly you have misjudged her.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll reserve judgment until then,” he said skeptically.

“Fine, then prepare to be mistaken. If I, being a Sul
livan, announced that I would follow you to the ends of the earth because I loved you, then I would honor the commitment. Penny has done the same thing.”

Quinn stared pointedly at her. “I would never ask a woman to make such a sacrifice and endure unnecessary hardship.”

“That’s probably because you have never fallen in love,” she countered. “You would have no problem imagining your life without a woman in it. But Matt rescued Penny from a robbery attempt three years ago. At first meeting she swore she had met her soul mate. After that, she and Matt were inseparable, despite Papa’s objections. They defied him because they are deeply committed to each other and that makes all the difference.”

Quinn decided that debating the issue with Piper was a waste of time. She stood firm in her idealistic beliefs, but he was a realist and he had seen marriages fail among military officers whose duty it was to defend the frontier. Many of the army wives chose to live in the East and lead separate lives.

“I still wouldn’t ask a woman to make that kind of sacrifice,” Quinn said, determined to get in the last word—for once.

She smiled tauntingly at him. “
You
won’t have to because
our
arrangement doesn’t require that.
I
know what you think of me, Callahan. The last thing you want is to have me tagging along behind you indefinitely.”