Carol Finch – The Ranger's Woman (страница 8)

If he tried to save himself it meant that he had to release his hold on Agatha. Pain in the patoot that she could be at times, he didn’t relish the idea of watching her body bounce from one outcropping of stone to another until she hit rock bottom.

He really wished he could see her face, wondered if she had made peace with the world…just in case. But there was that damn veil standing between him and this cantankerous old crone that he found himself liking for reasons he was at a loss to figure out.

Quinn kept remembering the sound of her grating voice hurling curses at Silver Spurs, vowing to come back and haunt him in the afterlife. He figured if his tenuous grasp on Agatha slipped, she would be cursing him all the way down the mountain. That was one ghost he wouldn’t want breathing down his neck till the end of his days.

He swore colorfully when he heard the shoulder seam of her gown rip loose and saw her drop a quick six inches. She was staring death in the face. Knowing her, she would have something mean and nasty to say about that, too.

Gritting his teeth, Quinn tried to figure out how in the hell he and Agatha were going to get out of this mess alive.

Chapter Four

“S top thrashing about and grab hold of my arm!”

Piper stared up at the rock-solid man who stood between her and certain death. She was terrified and was having difficulty drawing breath, but Cal was his usual calm and collected self. It amazed her that nothing seemed to faze him.

But of course, he wasn’t the one hanging on by the thread of his torn shoulder seam. And honestly, considering how she had needled him the past two days she was surprised he didn’t just let her go with a feigned smile of apology.

“Hurry up, Agatha,” he demanded. “The horses are going to start shifting any second and this coach might topple off the edge and shatter to pieces. There won’t be a damn thing for us to hold on to if that happens.”

Piper eased the strap of her reticule up her arm, then clamped her free hand on his forearm and tried to heave herself up as if he were a human rope.

“Stop!” Cal growled when her mad scramble altered the precarious balance of the overturned coach. “No sudden moves. Understand? Just hang there and let me haul you up an inch at a time.”

The mutt that was somewhere behind Cal suddenly appeared by his right shoulder. He whined and wagged his tail when he spotted her.

“Stay there, dog,” she commanded as Cal lifted her another inch away from imminent death.

She heard the mutt’s tail bang harder against the wall and realized his intentions after she made the crucial mistake of speaking directly to him. “No! Don’t move!”

To her terror and dismay the dog bounded playfully around Cal to lick her veiled face and paw at her hat.

“Damn it, get back, mutt,” Cal muttered as the coach rocked unsteadily.

Another stab of horror knifed through Piper when the dog’s oversize paw connected with the side of her head, causing her plumed hat to shift sideways. When the mutt grabbed the feathers on her hat, as if they belonged to a bird that he was instinctively trying to shake the life out of, Piper shrieked.

Cal let go with his left hand that was braced against the window frame and pushed the dog out of the way. Piper’s veiled hat was still clamped in the mutt’s jaws as he tumbled helter-skelter inside the coach.

Sickening dread pooled in the pit of Piper’s stomach when she found herself staring directly into Cal’s shocked expression. She watched him appraise her without her protective disguise. She could see disbelief, condemnation and suspicion gathering in those golden eyes as he registered the fact that she wasn’t who she pretended to be.

She decided, right there and then, that it was not a good idea to shock the person who held your life in the balance. Cal was so stunned that she felt his hand loosen on her arm momentarily, causing her to drop a quick two inches before he regathered his composure and clamped a fierce hold on her.

“I thought there was something peculiar about you that didn’t add up,” he said, then scowled down at her.

“I can explain,” she squeaked, then glanced down at the empty space beneath her. “Oh, God!” She thrashed in attempt to find footing.

“Hold still!” Cal barked at her. The expression on his face was thunderous.

Piper froze in midair. Her heart pounded inside her chest and she reminded herself to breathe.

“I know this looks bad,” she chirped. “But please don’t let me go. And if I die, promise me that you will take my money and jewels to my sister at Fort Davis.”

“I already have one last request to fulfill,” he muttered. “I don’t need another one.”

“Then at least tell Penelope what happened.”

“Fine. I’ll do that. But in the meantime here’s what we’re going to do. On the count of three I’m going to throw myself backward and you’re going to lurch forward and grab hold of me. And get hold of that mutt with your free hand if you can. Ready?”

Piper wasn’t sure she would ever be ready because if this plan didn’t work she was a goner. He might be, too.

“One, two, three—”

Quinn threw himself backward with enough force to drag Agatha—who had turned out to be an exceedingly attractive young con artist—through the opening. The team of horses shifted uneasily, dragging the coach a little farther off the edge of the cliff. Quinn shoved the woman sideways to counterbalance the teetering coach. Then he vaulted to his feet.

“Get up and make it quick!” he told the imposter when she didn’t react swiftly enough to suit him.

Using the heel of his hand he popped open the door that was above him. He heaved himself up to sit atop the overturned stage, then thrust his hand back inside to grab Agatha—and he was dying to find out who she really was. Well, not dying to find out, he amended. That was a bad choice of words, considering they had come within a hairbreadth of catapulting into the hereafter.

To Quinn’s surprise and exasperation, she tossed the squirming dog to him. Frankly, it astounded him that she placed the mutt’s safety above her own. Then he reminded himself that she had saved the mutt from extermination and had gotten attached to him.

Quinn hooked his arm under the mutt’s belly, then set him aside. Then he clasped the woman’s arm and towed her upward. For the space of a moment, while they were face-to-face, he tumbled into the depths of eyes so blue that they gleamed like silver in the sunlight. Quinn glanced away before the woman’s astonishing beauty sidetracked him.

Whoever she was, she was the fraud who had teased and tormented him for two days. He wasn’t wasting more time or sympathy on her either, he promised himself. But for damn certain he was going to find out why she was charading as a crone and who was the rightful owner of the money and pouch of valuables that she had with her.

She had to be up to no good, he thought cynically. Most of the folk he encountered were, after all.

When he set the woman to her knees beside him, he spun around and hopped off the coach. As he reached back to pull her to safety the dog leaped to the ground—and got right under his feet. Scowling, Quinn tripped backward and the woman landed on top of him, forcing his breath out in a whoosh.

Any other time he wouldn’t object to having a beguiling woman sprawled on top of him. But not now and not this treacherous female. Muttering, Quinn hooked his arm around the woman’s well-padded waist and sent her rolling to the ground beside him.

Launching himself to his feet, he darted to the back of the coach to hurriedly unstrap their luggage before the coach tumbled off the ledge.

And sure enough, he barely had time to set aside the satchels and his bedroll before the horses pranced impatiently and the stage flipped upside down. Quinn darted forward to remove the pin that kept the tongue of the coach secured to the team of horses. He grabbed the reins to prevent the horses from charging off when the coach plummeted down the side of the mountain.

Debris scattered everywhere as the coach struck one jagged outcropping of rock after another. Shattered pieces of the stage kerplopped in the stream and floated away.

Quinn stood there for a moment, studying the wreckage and counting himself damn lucky that he wasn’t a part of it.

“As I said, I can explain…”

The woman’s voice no longer held that nasal, grating pitch. Quinn rounded on her, feeling deceived and betrayed. He’d had more than enough of that in his line of work, without this sneaky female pulling the wool over his eyes.

“This better be good,” he said, and smirked disrespectfully. “Posing as a persnickety old harridan who is probably carrying stolen money—and who knows what else—doesn’t say much for your integrity, does it? I’ve dealt with several treacherous bandits in my day, but you’re about as conniving as they come, Agatha.” He spit out her name like a curse, which is exactly how he meant it.

“My name is Piper…uh…just Piper,” she introduced herself.

“Another alias? Somehow I’m not surprised.”

The fact that she refused to provide her last name made him all the more wary of her. He would bet his right arm that she was a fugitive from justice, traveling incognito and carrying stolen money.