Carol Finch (10 page)

Rafe glared at her. “I’m trying to be nice, damn it.”

“Save it for Vanessa. I’m not accustomed to niceties from you,” she shot back.

“That’s because your fiery disposition and distrust usually set me off,” he muttered. “I came here to make you an offer and I urge you not to refuse, out of that pure contrariness that is so much a part of your temperament.”

Karissa regarded him warily. “If you want me to resume my duties as laundress I must decline. I have no wish to return to the post, even if I could use the wages.”

“Why not?” he asked reasonably.

“Because—” Karissa shut her mouth before she blurted out that she wanted to bypass further encounters with Vanessa. If Rafe knew Vanessa had demanded that she leave he wouldn’t be here asking her to return.

“Because why?” he persisted, watching her all too closely.

“It really doesn’t matter,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m needed here with Clint and Amanda. It’s either here or at my claim site. You choose, General.”

Rafe sighed and shook his head. “When are you going to learn that I can see right through your tough facade? I’ve come to know you, Karissa. I have seen for myself that you have a brother and sister-in-law depending on you. If you weren’t kindhearted by nature
your family would be back in Kansas, managing as best they could while you made this Land Run for yourself.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted him to look beneath her cast-iron exterior. It made her feel more vulnerable to him than she already did. “So I’m a tenderhearted softy in disguise. Is there a point to this conversation or are you here to prevent me from eating my supper while it’s still warm?”

Although she felt the instinctive impulse to turn tail and run, she stood her ground when he pushed away from the tree and strode up to curl his forefinger beneath her chin. She was forced to meet his mesmerizing gaze and she had to steel herself from flinging herself into his arms and helping herself to another exquisite taste of him.

What was the matter with her? Was she a glutton for punishment? This man was off-limits to her. He had a fiancée—who, despite her witchy disposition, did hail from his lofty social circle. Nevertheless, being near him was pure torment and she had enough problems without her traitorous thoughts centering around him more often than she preferred.

“Just climb down off your high horse for one minute and listen to me, Karissa,” he murmured, his gaze focused on her lips.

“I don’t have a high horse,” she chirped, her feminine body reacting helplessly to his stimulating presence and his touch. “If I did I would stand a fighting chance in this race for land.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Karissa frowned, befuddled. “You’ve lost me.”

He smiled enigmatically. “I know, but I do have a high horse for you to climb on.”

When it dawned on her what he implied, she sucked
in a shocked breath. “You’re offering to let me ride
your
horse? My God,
why?
” she asked incredulously.

“Because you have earned the chance to stake your claim,” he explained, then frowned warningly. “Provided you don’t sneak back into the territory and break the rules I’m sworn to uphold. You should also know that I have continued to check your would-be claim daily. No one has squatted on it.”

“Oh, Rafe! Thank you!” Karissa couldn’t help herself. She was so thrilled that she impulsively leaped into his arms and showered him with grateful kisses.

She didn’t even realize she had hooked her legs around his waist until his hands clamped onto her hips, holding her tightly against him.

“It’s the least I can do,” he murmured before his mouth came down on hers and he kissed her with such desperation that she almost melted on his uniform.

Forbidden…
The word haunted her even as she kissed him for all she was worth. She savored this space out of time for as long as it would last, inhaling his unique scent, tasting him, feeling his masculine body molded familiarly to hers.

She knew she would never earn his affection, and probably not his respect, but he had offered his horse so that she could realize her dream. If she couldn’t have him then perhaps she could stake the land and live with her family until they were financially stable. Then she would have to make a life of her own, one that was far away from Rafe and his intended bride. Seeing them together would be more than she could bear.

Reluctantly she squirmed for release then stepped a safe distance away. “Forgive me,” she apologized, casting him an embarrassed glance. “I got a little carried away with my gratitude.”

Rafe didn’t look all that pleased that he hadn’t restrained himself, either. “I’ll bring my horse to you the night before the Run. In the meantime Sergeant will be well fed and exercised.”

Karissa recovered enough to chuckle. “Sergeant? You named your horse
Sergeant?
” She stared pointedly at his polished boots. “And these are first and second lieutenants, I suppose. You do eat, sleep and breathe the military, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t very well call my horse General when he spends most of his time beneath me,” he said as he grasped her arm to escort her back to the tent. “We do pay strict attention to rank in the army, after all.”

Karissa smiled in wry amusement. “Are straitlaced blue-bloods like yourself allowed to have a sense of humor?”

“Micah taught me to laugh at myself occasionally,” Rafe informed her as he approached camp. “Between you and him, I don’t have to worry about taking myself or my duty too seriously.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest when Rafe’s hand tangled with hers, giving it a light squeeze. She knew Rafe would never be her lover. The best she could hope for was a tenuous friendship. He belonged to someone else, although that snippy
someone else
didn’t deserve him. But Rafe was granting Karissa the chance to chase her dream without bending his rules. For that she was immensely grateful.

Rafe drew her to a halt a stone’s throw away from the hustle and bustle of activity in camp. “Take care of yourself, Karissa,” he murmured as he brushed his lips against her forehead. “I worry about you because your daring nature has a way of inviting trouble.”

She shrugged carelessly. “I have survived this long,
haven’t I?” Karissa flashed him a grateful smile. “I can’t thank you enough for your generosity. I will never forget it.”

He returned her smile as he playfully tapped his index finger against the tip of her nose. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you the night before the Run.”

Then he became one of the silhouettes moving through the darkness and her heart squeezed with so much regret that it was difficult to draw breath. “I could have loved you, Rafe Hunter,” she whispered as man and horse vanished in the night. “I know I’m not the right one for you, but Vanessa isn’t either. I pray you will realize that before it’s too late.”

Vanessa paced impatiently from wall to wall in her room. Where was that weasely little man she had summoned? She needed his assistance and she needed it now. She knew Rafe was slipping away from her. She had tried to bedazzle him and engage him in conversation most of the day, but he had been so distracted that it had taken all her dignified reserve not to club him over his handsome head and screech at him for not fawning over her the way most men usually did.

She spat an unladylike oath as she wheeled around to pace in the opposite direction. Rafe had left the garrison two hours ago and had yet to return. Of course, she didn’t buy his lame excuse about patrolling the settlers’ camps. No doubt, he had gone to be with his whore. He had stashed her out from underfoot, but she still preyed heavily on his mind.

Damn him! He had balked when she had mentioned moving up their wedding date. Well, just let him try to back out on her. She would make him very sorry indeed if he broke off the engagement.

Although she wanted and needed his family connection as a feather in her cap—and the means to acquire a comfortable monthly stipend—this was also a matter of pride. She would not be cast aside for that scrawny, freckle-nosed little nobody! What could Rafe possibly see in that woman?

Well, he wasn’t going to see anything in her from this day forward, Vanessa mused. Karissa Baxter had to be dealt with severely because she was an obstruction that stood directly between Vanessa’s goals and aspirations.

The quiet tap at the door sent Vanessa spinning about. She practically yanked Harlan Billings inside to prevent anyone from becoming aware of their clandestine association.

“Where have you been? I expected you a half hour ago.”

Harlan opened his hand, palm upward. “If you expect promptness then you will have to pay better than you have thus far,” he insisted. “And thus far, I have received nothing in return for the information I provided.”

Scowling, Vanessa stalked across the room to retrieve a few coins to pacify him.

“Here,” she said, thrusting the coins at him. “Now stop thinking about greasing your palms and pay attention. The only way to prevent Rafe’s trollop from spoiling our upcoming wedding is to cast a bad light on her name.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Harlan asked as he pocketed the money.

“We will have to find a way to link her name to some of the less desirable elements of society,” Vanessa decided.

Harlan snorted. “There is no
society
hereabout—yet.
That won’t happen until communities are established after the Land Run.”

Vanessa muttered sourly. She knew all the tricks of casting aspersions on her rivals in the East, but she was definitely out of her element in the middle of nowhere. “When is this stupid Land Run supposed to take place anyway?” she demanded. “These people have no dignity whatsoever. Racing after free land like a pack of starved wolves. It’s disgraceful! No one in my social circle would think of doing such a thing.”

Harlan shrugged his thin-bladed shoulders. “The Run will be held in a week. And most of us common folks do what we must to get ahead in life. Which is why I insist on being paid in advance, if you expect my cooperation.”

Vanessa clamped down on her tongue before she shouted the odious man from her room. She had to be cautious about letting anyone know of her scheme to rout Karissa from Rafe’s life without appearing to be involved. She was stuck with Harlan, offensive and distasteful though he was to her.

“Oh, very well, but I expect results for my money,” she demanded as she marched over to her reticule to fish out two bank notes. “I expect you to find out where she is and what she’s doing. Then find a way to frame her for whatever crime necessary that will get her in trouble and make her lose face in Rafe’s eyes.”

Harlan snorted resentfully as he greedily took her money. “I’m on stable duty during the day, lady. I can’t wander away from the post on a whim to track down that Baxter bitch. The best I can do is sneak away at night while I’m supposed to be on guard duty.”

“All the better,” she insisted. “There will be less chance of you being recognized. You can find out where
she is, fleece her most recent benefactor and see to it that she’s blamed for the robbery. Whatever money you pocket will be yours to keep.”

Harlan grinned devilishly. “I do like the way your mind works.”

“And
I
would like to find myself legally wed the moment this Land Run is over,” she muttered as she showed him the door. “You have two days.” She eyed him sternly. “You better have located that trollop by then.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Harlan promised.

“No,” Vanessa said determinedly. “
Do
it.”

When Harlan left, Vanessa poured herself a tall glass of wine and slouched on her lumpy bed. She couldn’t wait to get this marriage over and done and return to the comforts of proper society. There was no cultural entertainment to be found on the frontier—nothing except a few spur-of-the-moment horse races, footraces and horseshoe-pitching contests. She was forced to associate with men and women who were so far beneath her status that it was all she could do to put on a cheery face and pretend to tolerate this mundane existence.

This was all her father’s fault, she fumed. If he had the slightest head for business, she wouldn’t find herself in such dire straits, forced to wed a man who seemed to prefer the company of a strumpet.

Men, they were such a nuisance. A woman had to maneuver and finagle to get ahead in this world. Well, she would just plunge ahead, manipulate Rafe into a hasty wedding then return home to set up housekeeping on Hunter family funds. Then she could do as she pleased, when she pleased.

She would have financial independence and Rafe could have his crude fort and his silly command over
this sorry troop of soldiers. These men might be the salt of the earth, but they didn’t hold the least bit of interest or appeal to Vanessa. All she wanted was to see that Baxter woman’s reputation ruined and Rafe’s ring on her own finger. Then she would quit this place as quickly as possible.

She guzzled more wine to take the edge off her mounting frustration.

D
ressed in the homespun clothes that he’d swiped from a makeshift clothesline in one of the settlers’ camps, Harlan Billings circled the perimeters, looking for Karissa. He had sneaked away from guard duty to follow Vanessa’s demand the previous night to make trouble for the redhead. Surely she was here somewhere. Harlan had already checked the other two encampments and hadn’t seen a thing of her.

His thoughts scattered when he caught sight of her flaming red hair glinting in the flickering light of the community campfire. He watched Karissa duck into a shabby tent then he appraised the other settlers who ambled around the area.

When he spotted a man on crutches, hobbling toward the river to fill a canteen, Harlan smiled maliciously. Here was his unsuspecting mark.

Wasting no time, Harlan darted through the trees and waited until the crippled man awkwardly knelt down on one knee to fill the canteen from the river. Using a broken branch, Harlan darted forward to club the man over the head. With a muffled groan his victim collapsed on the riverbank.

After checking that there were no witnesses, Harlan crouched down to search the man’s pockets. He grinned in satisfaction when he came away with a fistful of coins and banknotes. Tucking the money in his own pocket, Harlan scuttled through the trees. With his stolen cap pulled low on his forehead, he paused beside a settler who was grooming his horse.

“I swore I just saw a red-haired woman take after a crippled man down by the river,” he reported, employing a heavy Southern accent. “I would check on him myself, but I’ve got a sick child in my tent who needs attention.”

The settler wheeled around to squint into the distance. “I’ll see to it, friend.”

Harlan grinned triumphantly as he scurried off to fetch the horse he had tethered on the outskirts of camp. He would return to the fort, scale the fence beside the guard tower and assume his duty before anyone realized he had abandoned his post.

After the changing of the guards he would call on Vanessa, demanding payment for framing Karissa for the robbery and assault. There was considerable profit in helping that snooty lady with her scheme to land Commander Hunter as her husband, he mused. As vindictive as Vanessa appeared to be, Harlan could make a killing off her.

He chuckled as he galloped his horse toward the garrison. Vanessa considered him a lowly soldier, worthy only to carry out her schemes, did she? Well, she would soon discover how clever he was. Ah, he looked forward to springing his upcoming surprise on her and watching her puff up with all sorts of haughty indignation.

Vanessa Payton lunged toward the door when she heard the quiet rap. As expected, Harlan appeared, smil
ing his hideous little smile that indicated he was well pleased with himself.

Vanessa stepped aside and watched the corporal strut into the room like a high-ranking brigadier general.

“I trust you have been successful, Harlan. Is that gold-digger in custody?”

“No, but I’m sure she will be soon,” he replied confidently. “The settlers will take the law into their own hands when she’s accused of clubbing a crippled man over the head and stealing his money.”

“Preying on a cripple is a nice touch,” she complimented him. Perhaps she hadn’t given this man full credit for his devious cunning. “That should stack the cards against that uncultured strumpet.”

“I expect so.” Harlan thrust out his hand. “Now, if you please, I would like to be compensated for the risks I took tonight by abandoning my post.”

Vanessa whirled around to fetch her purse. The moment she had discovered that today was payday at the garrison, she had approached Rafe to request cash. She explained—with just the right amount of blushing embarrassment—that she hadn’t had the foresight to bring enough funds from Virginia to purchase necessary supplies. She had also confided that she’d had no idea there wasn’t a bank nearby to wire her father for money when she needed it.

Rafe had handed over half of his salary without batting an eyelash. Of course, money was no concern to him. She knew he had a sizable trust at his disposal. Rafe would never be short of funds.

To Vanessa this was the ultimate and most satisfying irony. She was using
Rafe’s
money to pay for having
his harlot set up for a crime and destroying what little respectability she might have acquired.

Pivoting, Vanessa dropped several shiny silver dollars into Harlan’s greedy hands. She could afford to be generous since this was the last time she would need the corporal’s services. Plus, she had discovered this morning that Rafe didn’t bat an eye at providing money when she requested it.

Although she had spent another boring day at this backward fort she would sleep well tonight, knowing that in less than two weeks she would be wed and would have the Hunter family fortune at her disposal. She could play the role of the fawning fiancée until she returned home. Indeed, she could be sweet and charming, if the situation demanded—so long as she was assured of financial security.

“You may leave now, Corporal,” she said dismissively. “We have concluded our business. But I shall call upon you in the future if the need arises.”

Harlan simply stood there, grinning craftily at her. Impatiently, she thrust her arm toward the door—as if he were too ignorant to see where it was. “Leave at once. I refuse to take the risk of having Rafe find you here.”

“That is exactly the person I need to discuss with you,” Harlan replied, refusing to budge from the spot. “There is the matter of hush money to discuss.”

The color drained from Vanessa’s cheeks. Hell and damnation, she never dreamed this backward soldier would try to double-cross her!

“You need to know that I won’t think twice about exposing your devious plot to Commander Hunter.” He waited a deliberate moment then added, “Unless, of
course, you pay me periodically to keep my mouth shut.”

Vanessa glowered furiously at him. Her hands knotted in the folds of her gown and she itched to claw out his beady eyes for backing her into a corner. She found herself in this exasperating situation because of Rafe, she silently fumed. If he hadn’t invited that whore to stay in his quarters, right under her nose, she wouldn’t have to resort to conspiring with the likes of this offensive little toad. And by damned, she would dream up excuses to bleed Rafe for money.
He
was going to pay to keep her blackmailer’s trap shut!

“I’ll come by once a week to receive my payment,” Harlan announced before he turned toward the door. He tossed her a gloating glance. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

When left alone in her meager quarters, Vanessa let loose with a string of unladylike curses. She hoped she didn’t have to draw someone else into her scheme and hire that
someone
to dispose of Harlan permanently. But she would if she had to. It galled her no end that Harlan held the upper hand. He was a worthless nobody, just like that wench who had used her seductive wiles to bewitch Rafe.

Muttering another string of colorful obscenities, Vanessa poured herself a glass of wine, and then scowled when she realized she had nearly depleted the bottle she had brought along with her.

And where, she wondered, was she going to find quality wine to replenish her supply? She flounced onto her lumpy cot. She was on the godforsaken frontier, surrounded by bumpkin soldiers and their wives, deprived of luxuries. No one from her prestigious circle of society
should have to tolerate such deplorable conditions and distasteful companionship.

Vanessa snuffed the lantern. Her new husband would pay dearly for forcing her to humiliate herself by chasing him down in the middle of nowhere and pretending to endure these despicable accommodations.

On the eve of the Land Run, Rafe trotted toward the settlers’ encampment. He was mounted on a military issue gelding, leading Sergeant behind him. He could feel anticipation sizzling in the air as he watched the prospective settlers pack their gear and mentally prepare themselves for the race for land in the soon-to-be-established Oklahoma Territory.

Unfortunately, Rafe predicted that he would soon encounter another set of headaches. He wouldn’t have to patrol the region to round up squatters. But since the territory was under martial law—and would be, until law enforcement agencies were established and functioning efficiently—he would have to settle land disputes so the undesirables didn’t fleece the new settlers.

Rafe’s thoughts trailed off when he noticed Amanda Baxter waving her slender arms in expansive gestures to flag him down. Nice woman, he mused as he veered in her direction. He could understand why Karissa was so determined to see her brother and his wife claim a homestead. Rafe was silently cheering for the Baxter family’s success.

“Oh, Commander, we are eternally indebted to you,” Amanda gushed as Rafe dismounted. “Kari told us of your generous offer.” She reached out to stroke Sergeant’s soft muzzle. “If not for this week’s unpleasant incident, Clint and I would be walking on air in anticipation of tomorrow’s race.”

“Incident?” Rafe questioned warily as he tethered the two horses to the nearest tree. If Karissa was involved, there always seemed to be an
incident
of one kind or another. “What happened this time?”

Amanda pivoted to lead him toward the tent. “A few days ago Clint limped down to the river to fetch a canteen of water,” she reported. “Someone sneaked up behind him and whacked him on the head while he was unaware.” Amanda sighed miserably. “The poor man is having the most difficult time adjusting to his broken leg and accepting the fact that his sister will once again become his champion and provider by making the Run on his behalf. Now he feels ten times worse because Kari had given him all the money she has collected the past few months, plus the funds she earned at the fort. All the cash was stolen from Clint’s pocket while he was unconscious.”

Rafe gnashed his teeth in frustration. He had heard complaints from the prospective settlers about such incidents, but now it seemed personal because it pertained to Karissa and her family. He would like to get his hands on the opportunist who had assailed Clint while he was barely able to walk, and had difficulty defending himself from harm.

“Clint didn’t need another knot on his head,” Amanda murmured. “The blow caused a setback because he hadn’t recovered from the concussion he suffered after his disastrous fall from the horse.”

Rafe ducked under the tent flap to see Karissa perched on the edge of the cot, blotting a cloth against Clint’s peaked face. Although Clint was muttering and scowling at his incapacity, one look into Karissa’s eyes indicated the unfortunate incident had made her even more determined to provide for her family.

“And what’s worse,” Amanda continued as she took Karissa’s place beside Clint, “is that someone accused Kari of brutalizing and stealing from her own
brother!
Can you imagine anything so preposterous?” She stared up at Rafe with wide hazel eyes. “Rest assured that I told the group of vigilantes who descended on Karissa that it was her brother who had been accosted and that she would never betray her family. Of course, they disbanded straight away, feeling like fools. As well they should,” she added huffily.

Rafe sorely wished he hadn’t turned half of his pay over to Vanessa this week, for he would have gladly offered all of it to this struggling family. He reached into his pocket, grabbed Karissa’s hand and gave her the coins he had left.

“I can’t take—” she protested.

“Yes, you can,” he cut in authoritatively. “I insist.”

Karissa stared down at the coins. “I will repay you as soon as we show profit on our homestead.”

“A simple thank-you will suffice,” he told her. Before she could argue—and he didn’t doubt for a moment that she intended to—he clutched her arm and towed her outside. “We need to discuss Sergeant’s customary behavior so you won’t be startled while you’re riding him. You and he are the perfect match: feisty as hell. Now pay attention and don’t go getting all stubborn on me, woman.”

“Me? Stubborn?” Karissa said in feigned indignation. “How can you say such a thing?”

He slanted her a withering glance as he drew her away from the milling crowd. He halted in front of his prize horse and patted his sleek, muscular neck. “Sergeant is conditioned to react swiftly,” Rafe informed her. “The
sound of a bugle announcing a charge and the spitting of gunfire sets him off in his fastest clip.”

Karissa nodded. “I’ll be ready and waiting when he leaps into action.”

“A cannon will be fired at the fort, trumpets will blow and my soldiers will signal the start of the race by discharging their rifles. If you don’t clamp your knees around Sergeant’s flanks and anchor a fist on the pommel of the saddle this horse will run right out from under you,” he cautioned her. “Sergeant is exceptionally quick off the mark, and when you give him his head it takes a firm and continuous tug on the reins to force him to put on the brakes.”

Karissa reached up to scratch Sergeant’s ear. The horse leaned his head against her and nuzzled her hip. “He doesn’t seem all that high-spirited to me,” she commented as the horse soaked up her attention.

Karissa spared Rafe a glance, wishing she could hug the stuffing out of him again for allowing her to ride Sergeant and for partially replacing the money she had given to Clint for safekeeping. But she had discovered that grateful hugs and kisses caused an explosion of her senses so she had to maintain a respectable distance.

“I know you’re on a very determined mission to acquire land,” Rafe murmured beside her. “But have a care tomorrow during this confounded race. People are bound to get hurt when they dash off hell-for-leather to stake their claims. Horses can collide and catapult their riders into the path of the stampede. Carriages and wagons can overturn, crushing bodies beneath them.” He gazed meaningfully at her. “Sassy and aggravating though you can be, I still prefer you in one piece.”

He glanced up sharply and stared over her head. “Well, hell…”

Karissa watched Rafe stride off when a shouting match erupted between two prospective settlers. She knew Rafe took his duties as peacekeeper and law official seriously. Here was yet another example of his dominant personality. He grabbed the doubled fist that was aimed toward a bearded jaw and jerked it downward as he stepped between the men. In less than a minute he had squelched the dispute and sent the men to their respective tents, threatening to exclude them from the Run if they started more trouble.