Texas Ranger, Runaway Heiress. Carol Finch

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      This book is dedicated to my husband, Ed, and our children Jill, Jon, Christie, Durk, Shawnna and Kurt. And to our grandchildren, Livia, Harleigh, Blake, Kennedy, Dillon and Brooklynn. With much love.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter One

      Middle of Nowhere, Texas

       Late 1870s

      Captain Hudson Stone waited impatiently for Texas Ranger Commander Winston Price to finish his conference with Hud’s battalion leader. Winston Price had arrived in camp two days earlier to inspect the troops and assess the situation in West Texas—which had become a breeding ground for trouble the past few months.

      When Major John Ketter exited the tent, wearing a carefully blank stare, Hud didn’t know what to expect or why the Ranger commander had singled him out. Hud ducked under the tent flap then nodded a greeting to Commander Price, whose alert brown eyes made a quick inspection of Hud’s tattered attire and the week’s growth of whiskers that he had been too busy to shave.

      The commander sank onto the edge of his cot to stretch out his long legs. The former military officer had served, as Hud had, in the Confederate Army. Winston Price was beginning to show his age, although he still was in reasonably good physical condition. He was in his late forties and sported a thick crop of reddish brown hair. A thin mustache and goatee accentuated the commanding features of his face.

      “Nice to see you again, Captain Stone.”

      “What can I do for you, sir?” Hud was in no mood for idle chitchat. He wanted to be done with this impromptu meeting so he could mount up and focus on his quest to track down a ruthless killer known as Mad Joe Jarvis.

      “Your battalion seems to be working effectively in this area, all things considered,” Winston commented as he braced his arms on the cot.

      “We have a dedicated troop of Rangers who are trying to keep the lid on this area. Unfortunately, it is becoming more difficult by the week.” Now get to the point, Hud mused impatiently.

      “Major Ketter recommended you for the duty I require posthaste,” Winston said, surprising Hud. He reached for the pipe that sat on the crude nightstand then lit it up. “My daughter notified me unexpectedly that she wants to consult with me as soon as possible. Since the governor sent me out here to expect the battalions and report on the extent of the trouble we’ve had in this region I need you for immediate escort detail.”

      “Escort detail?” Hud croaked, stunned. “But sir, I—”

      Winston flung up his hand as he surged to his feet. Although Winston was six feet tall and sturdy in stature, he had to stare up at Hud, who towered at six foot three inches in his stocking feet and outweighed the commander by at least twenty pounds.

      “I asked Major Ketter to recommend his best Ranger for the task and he says you’re it.”

      “But I’m leading a search to apprehend the outlaw who killed Speck Horton.”

      Just saying Speck’s name aloud sent a wave of grief and frustration pouring over Hud. He and Speck had served in the Confederate Army together and had come to Texas to make a new start. Speck was as close to family as Hud had. The need to avenge Speck’s death tormented his waking hours and haunted his sleep. He didn’t want to be waylaid by escort detail.

      “I have been briefed on your search and I am very sorry for your loss.” Winston stared straight at Hud. “I think that might be the other reason Major Ketter recommended you for escort duty. He thinks your vendetta has become too personal and obsessive and that you need a diversion.”

      Like hell I do! He didn’t want to play nursemaid to some prissy tenderfoot female who had no business tramping around in an area that was jumping alive with Indian renegades. Occasionally they sneaked from Indian Territory to express dissatisfaction with conditions on the reservations and their outrage over another of the federal government’s broken treaties. Not to mention the problems associated with the influx of white and Mexican outlaw gangs. Plus, ranchers were feuding over water rights, land titles and lease agreements on public lands.

      Hud couldn’t imagine why Commander Price would allow his daughter to venture out here. Did the dainty female have her father wrapped around her finger? Price had commanded military troops and state Rangers with ease. Apparently he couldn’t say no to his daughter. And what, Hud would like to know, was so damn important that the princess couldn’t wait until her daddy returned to Austin next month to see her?

      “Major Ketter has agreed to let you gather your gear and leave for Fort Griffin within the hour.” Winston paused to blow two lopsided smoke rings in the air. “I don’t want Gabrielle to linger at The Flat longer than necessary. You know what a rowdy place it is.”

      Teeth clenched, hands fisted at his sides, Hud nodded his dark head. The Flat was the raucous community that had sprung up at the bottom of the hill below the military fort. Buffalo hunters hauled in their hides for transport by wagon to the Dodge City railhead, where they were shipped to tanneries and millineries in the East. Cattle drovers arrived in town and let off steam by drinking, carousing and firing their six-shooters in the streets before trailing their herds to Dodge City. In addition, card sharks, harlots and all sorts of desperadoes, eager to engage in shootings, knifings and brawls, filled saloons and gaming halls. In short, it was the devil’s playground. Certainly not the place for a sophisticated lady.

      “Sir, I’m not telling you anything you don’t know already,” Hud remarked, “but not only is this area dangerous but The Flat is as close to hell as most folks prefer to get. Several men have been killed publicly in showdowns. Then there are the ones who have been strung up by vigilantes. Between the cold-eyed killers, crooked dealers at faro, monte and poker tables and the soldiers who trot down Government Hill to carouse when they’re off duty, that is no place for a dignified lady.”

      Plus, Hud had better things СКАЧАТЬ