Carol Finch (14 page)

Karissa still couldn’t believe how wildly she had responded to Rafe, right there on the back of his horse. She had behaved like the shameless trollop Vanessa accused her of being.

After they had shared that first mind-boggling kiss, Karissa had forgotten the meaning of self-restraint. No doubt, her flighty emotions—the result of her confrontation with Vanessa—were responsible for sending her cartwheeling into the dizzying vortex of newly awakened desire. When Rafe had touched her intimately, her inhibitions had launched into outer space. She had craved his touch, savored the unprecedented sensations that assailed her.

She had never known there could be such phenomenal degrees of pleasure when in the grip of desire. She, who customarily balked at the slightest domination of a man, had been ready to scream, “Take me. I’m yours!”

Lost to the erotic memories she had shared with Rafe, a crimson blush worked its way up her neck and didn’t stop until it reached her hairline. No doubt, her lack of self-control and uninhibited responses had convinced him she was accustomed to sharing her body with men.

Of course, she had unintentionally left him with that assumption the first night they had met. What else was the man supposed to think?

Well, it was too late to correct his erroneous assumption, Karissa told herself as she led the mare to the corral. There would be no future contact—especially of a physical nature—with Rafe. She had said her last goodbye and had gotten carried away. To the extreme.

“Kari, I think you should sit down and take a rest,” Amanda advised, studying her sister-in-law closely. “Your face is beet-red and you’ve set such a furious
working pace all day that you’ve obviously worn yourself out.”

“I’m fine,” Karissa insisted as she latched the gate. She wasn’t about to confide in Amanda that thoughts of her steamy encounter with Rafe had heightened the color in her cheeks and left her body pulsing with unappeased need.

“Who do you suppose that is?” Clint questioned as he stared at the four riders in the distance. As a precaution, he hobbled over to grab his rifle.

Karissa frowned warily when she recognized the scarecrow-thin scoundrel—dressed in brown breeches, long coat and floppy-brimmed hat—who had tried to steal her claim and had left a welt on her cheek as a souvenir of their disagreement. She critically assessed the overweight dandy who was decked out in an expensive suit and wore an undersize bowler hat that emphasized his round face.

“Miss Baxter. I’m Arliss Frazier,” he greeted as he drew his steed to a halt in front of her. “These are my business associates, Sam Pickens, Delmer Cravens and Chester Gentry. I’ve come to make you an offer for your property.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” she said. “I dealt with one of your associates yesterday.” She flashed Chester a grievous frown. “He mentioned you briefly during our fracas.”

Arliss shrugged and smiled blandly from atop his horse. “Emotions were running high yesterday, my dear. Chester Gentry was simply trying to carry out my wishes. He didn’t want to disappoint me.”

Karissa scoffed irritably. She wasn’t going to stand here waxing polite with this Sooner, who had obviously hidden out in the underbrush, lying in wait to stake his
claims. “I suspect you illegally acquired your homesteads, so your fancy apology is wasted on me. We have no intention of pulling up stakes and leaving our claim.” She hitched her thumb toward Clint. “My brother is a crack shot, by the way. I’m sure that if push comes to shove you’ll be the first to fall. Start at the top, we Baxters say, and work your way down to the hired help.”

All pretense vanished from Arliss’s pudgy face. “I intend to develop a thriving community on this site,” he said. “I’m offering to transfer the deed of one of my other properties to you, in exchange for this land.”

Karissa was no one’s fool. She knew this homestead was prime real estate because of its abundant water supply. She also suspected Arliss intended to make a killing by selling off small plots to businessmen.

“I suggest you focus your efforts on building your town site a mile east, because I don’t have the slightest interest in selling to you or to anyone else.”

His eyes narrowed and his full jowls wrinkled like an accordion. “There are ways, young lady, to encourage your cooperation. Do not force me to resort to drastic measures.”

“Are you threatening me and my family? If you are, I will register a complaint with the commander at Fort Reno, just in case. He will know exactly whom to question about whatever unfortunate mishap befalls me.” Karissa took a daring step forward and glowered at Arliss. “If you dare lay a hand on my family, the only place you’ll see your name recorded is on your headstone.”

When Arliss raised his hand, as if to signal his henchmen to shut Karissa up—permanently—Clint cocked the trigger of his rifle. “Not a good idea, Arliss,” Clint called out. “I’m not feeling very neighborly myself.”

When Amanda retrieved the concealed pistol from behind her back and pointed it at Chester, Clint nodded in his wife’s direction. “By the way, I’ve taught Amanda everything I know about marksmanship. I wouldn’t want to wager how many of you will be dead before you can draw and fire.”

Arliss swore sourly as he backed his horse away. “You haven’t seen the last of me, Miss Baxter,” he growled menacingly at her.

Karissa didn’t move from the spot until the foursome disappeared over the hill.

“Oh dear,” Amanda chirped as she half collapsed on the ground.

Clint cast aside his rifle and crutch to kneel beside his wife. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

Amanda gulped and nodded. “I will be in a minute.”

“Perhaps you should go inside and lie down,” Karissa suggested as she hurried to Amanda’s side. If Arliss caused complications in Amanda’s pregnancy, he would discover that hell had no fury like an enraged aunt-to-be.

“I think you’re right. I do need to lie down,” Amanda wheezed as she grasped Karissa’s outstretched hand and came clumsily to her feet.

When she swayed unsteadily, Clint wrapped a supporting arm around her waist to hold her upright. He glanced at Karissa in wry amusement. “A crack shot, am I? You lie very convincingly under pressure, sis.”

“Thank you,” Karissa said unrepentantly as she assisted Amanda to the tent. “First thing in the morning I’m riding north to the new town that was established near the North Canadian River. I want our deed registered—and in hand—as soon as possible. Once the deed
is registered it will be more difficult for Arliss and his henchmen to cause trouble.”

“Riding off alone?” Clint snorted. “I think not.”

“Don’t argue with me,” Karissa muttered. “I’ll wear my disguise so I won’t be recognized. But I am definitely going to register our claim.” When he opened his mouth to object, Karissa shot him a silencing glance—like the ones she’d employed when he was just a child and she had to be both mother and sister to him. The look was enough to give him pause, and she hastily added, “Do not argue with logic, Clint. Someone has to stay here to defend our claim and I’m the only one with two steady feet beneath me. So that’s that.”

“That might be that,” Clint grumbled as he gently settled his wife on the cot. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“Which we don’t,” Amanda chimed in. “You be careful, Kari. We would never forgive ourselves if you came to harm.”

Better her than them, Karissa mused as she walked back outside to gather wood for the campfire. She had come too far and sacrificed too much to stake this homestead. This was her promised land, and it was going to be registered in the Baxter name.

Arliss Frazier could establish his community on a piece of land he obtained illegally. But if he wanted to purchase spring-fed water for his town then he could pay for it. That was the one commodity Karissa had to sell until the first crop was harvested in the fall. And if she didn’t have so much to do around the campsite, plus a long ride to the new town to the north, she would indeed register a complaint with Rafe at the fort. Unfortunately, she had said her last goodbye to him. And anyway, Vanessa was guarding her fiancé like a fire-breathing dragon.

Poor Rafe, she thought—and not for the first time. He was so wrapped up in his military duties that he probably hadn’t taken the time to look past Vanessa’s imperial demeanor to see her for what she was. Maybe Karissa should relay her warning to Micah and let him break the news to Rafe. It would still make her come off sounding like a jealous rival, but at least Rafe wouldn’t be stuck with that witch for the rest of his life.

That’s what she’d do, she decided as she built the campfire. Micah seemed to have Rafe’s best interests at heart. The news would be easier to take from a loyal friend.

Now, if Karissa could only deliver the message and make it to town to register the deed without getting her head blown off by Arliss and company, she was certain tomorrow would be a very productive day.

R
afe was astounded when he rode into the boomtown that had been established overnight—literally. The community that had been named Reno City, in honor of the nearby fort, sat on the riverbank and bustled with activity. Hastily constructed clapboard false fronts were staked as entrances to the canvas-walled stores that provided necessary supplies and lumber. Most of the new businesses were restaurants or saloons. And some were a combination of both.

The buffalo grass of the prairie had been stamped down and ruts from wagons and imprints from hooves marked the newly formed streets. Horses were lined up at hitching posts, and wagons, stacked with supplies, turned the avenues into a busy maze.

Rafe had been obliged to make the jaunt to town to question witnesses about the two shootings Micah had reported the previous evening. A female settler had been shot in the arm during a dispute over a homestead. A male settler hadn’t been so fortunate in his argument with claim-jumpers.

Although Jake Horton, the deputy marshal, had arrived to keep the peace, he had sent a request to the fort,
asking for Rafe’s assistance. Stacks of complaints about claim-jumpers and thieves were piling up in the tent the marshal had erected as his makeshift office.

Rafe could well imagine how much time would be required to investigate and settle the inevitable disputes. Here, he mused as he listened to various arguments to the right and left of him, were the headaches he had predicted he would encounter after the Run.

And speaking of headaches, Vanessa still hadn’t purchased a ticket on the stage line that stopped twice a week at the fort. She claimed she hadn’t had time to gather her belongings the previous morning before the coach rumbled off to the East. He hadn’t been at the fort long enough to insist that Vanessa cease harboring false hopes of a wedding and return to Virginia.

His thoughts trailed off when push came to shove in an argument that erupted outside a dance hall. Rafe dismounted in time to deflect a flying fist before it landed squarely on a furious face.

“If you can’t resolve your differences peaceably then you can join me in the marshal’s office,” he said brusquely.

The men cast a begrudging glance at Rafe’s blue uniform then backed off, but not before he caught a whiff of whiskey and made note of two pairs of bloodshot eyes.

Celebrating the claims of a town site or homestead was one thing, but these men had been drinking excessively and their manner of dress indicated they were professional gamblers, not farmers or ranchers. There were definitely more scalawags swaggering down the streets than law-abiding citizens. The gamblers and shysters had turned out in full force to prey on unsuspecting
settlers. The undesirables were crowding one another’s space and stealing one another’s marks.

For a brief moment Rafe couldn’t recall why he had forsaken polite society back East to ride herd over this last frontier. Ah yes, he remembered now. He thrived on challenge. Well, he had gotten a tad more challenge than he had bargained for when the government reduced the size of the Indians’ tribal holdings and then opened the Unassigned Lands in the heart of this territory.

Rafe strode toward the marshal’s office—such as it was—and then stopped in his tracks when he recognized the female voice that rose to a shout. He wheeled around, searching the crowded street until he spied a red head glinting in the sunlight. Karissa, dressed in men’s clothes, stood toe-to-toe with a plump gent who had clamped his beefy hand on her forearm.

“I told you to stay away from me or you’d be sorry,” Karissa spouted off.

“I offered you a fair amount, you little hellion,” Arliss Frazier growled into her stubborn face.

“Fair?” she scoffed at him as she squirmed for release. “Your offer is laughable and I’ve told you I have no intention of selling out to you. Now let me go! If you try to detain me from entering the claim office one more time, I—”

“Is there a problem, Miss Baxter?” Rafe cut in before she threatened to take her adversary apart with her bare hands. Worse, the argument had drawn a crowd of curious bystanders.

When Arliss released her instantly, Karissa made a big production of straightening her shirtsleeve. “Mr. Frazier is trying to strong-arm me into selling my homestead before I can file a deed,” she huffed. “He showed up with his three henchmen at our farm to insist I sell
out to him. In addition, he and his ruffians tried to overtake me before I could reach town this morning. It was pure luck that I arrived in one piece!”

“She is exaggerating. We did not try to overtake her. We only wanted to discuss the matter with her. It was Miss Baxter who threatened bodily harm, just for making her a reasonable offer,” Arliss snapped back. “The woman is half-crazed, if you ask me.”

Rafe, trying to remain the unbiased mediator, stepped between them. “Miss Baxter, allow me to escort you to the claim office.”

“Thank you,” she said to Rafe.

When she flashed Arliss a venomous glare, he smiled craftily at her. Her fists curled in frustration. She didn’t trust that overweight scoundrel as far as she could throw him. His sly expression indicated that she hadn’t seen or heard the last of him and that he intended to hound her unmercifully until she gave up and sold out to him. Over her dead body!

“I swear, woman,” Rafe said as he hustled her across the street. “I’m beginning to think that if trouble doesn’t gravitate toward you then you feel obliged to flag it down.”

“I’ve had to stand up for myself since I can’t remember when,” she informed him crisply. “And for the record, Arliss and his ruffians were hot on my heels during the jaunt to town and they didn’t look the least bit friendly. And if you think I’m going to let that rascal walk all over me and attempt to intimidate me then you had better think again.”

“Ah, here we are.” Rafe physically placed Karissa at the back of the waiting line. He leaned down to wag his finger in her fuming face. “Do not try to cut in line or pick a fight with these good people. And if that gent in
the ridiculous bowler hat tries to harass you again, start screaming your head off and I’ll be back here in a flash.” He leaned in even closer, his lips twitching with barely concealed amusement. “But absolutely no biting or clawing, wildcat.”

A reluctant smile pursed her lips as she stared into his handsome face. “You are absolutely no fun at all, General. You’re bossy and overly authoritative to boot. But I promise that I won’t start any trouble. All I’m going to do is use two of the silver dollars you gave me to pay the fee to register our deed.”

“Just don’t let yourself be drawn into a shouting match that I have to break up,” he warned. “I’m not kidding about that, Karissa. Mind your manners, if at all possible.”

“What manners?” she teased mischievously.

Rafe chuckled as he tapped his forefinger on her freckled nose. “You have them, all right. You just delight in letting everyone think you don’t.”

Karissa watched him walk away and felt her heart do a somersault in her chest. She had fallen in love with this man and she hadn’t been able to talk herself out of it.

Way to go, Karissa. You and your impossible dreams.

She heaved a sigh as she impatiently waited in line. It was going to be difficult to live in the same area as Rafe without seeing him occasionally. How was she ever going to recover from this ill-fated love that had mushroomed inside her when she kept bumping into him?

It wasn’t going to be easy, she realized. But then nothing in life had come easily. Why should getting over Rafe be any different?

Bubbling with feelings of elation and accomplishment, Karissa exited the tent that served as the land office. She had registered her deed in Clint and Amanda’s name. She was disappointed that she hadn’t been able to make the Run to claim her own land and see
her
name on the deed, but Clint having a place of his own was the next best thing.

Using the last of the money Rafe had given to her, Karissa purchased food supplies and then found herself standing in front of a boutique. Inside the large tent was an impressive collection of dresses.

What in heaven’s name was she doing in here? She couldn’t spare money for clothes, especially the sunflower-yellow gown that caught her eye. Of course, it wasn’t as fine as the dresses Vanessa Payton paraded around in at the fort, but it suited Karissa’s taste. Impulsively she ran her hand over the soft fabric, remembering that Rafe had never seen her in anything except baggy breeches, borrowed gowns and cast-off dresses that she had picked up at bargain prices in cow towns.

Now why was she standing here, wishing Rafe could see her in that frilly dress, as if she wanted to bedazzle and impress him? He belonged to someone else. Her only consolation was knowing that, while Vanessa might become his wife, she would always be a distant second to Rafe’s military career. Why else would he give up the luxuries of his family’s elite social circle if he didn’t live for the unexpected challenges on the frontier?

“Would you like to try on the gown?” the gray-haired dressmaker asked from behind her. “My husband constructed a makeshift dressing area at the back of the tent.”

Karissa pivoted to meet the older woman’s smile.
“It’s a lovely gown, but since I can’t afford it I don’t want to tempt myself.”

“It would look wonderful on you. Try it on, just for the fun of it,” the woman encouraged her.

She was truly tempted, but in the end she shook her head and smiled. Bidding the kindly woman a good day, Karissa stepped outside and caught sight of Rafe standing across the street, conversing with a man who had a badge pinned on his chest. To her surprise, Rafe glanced at her then looked up at the clapboard false front of the store to read the sign that read Gertie’s Boutique. He cocked a thick black brow and then stared at the sack of cornmeal, lard and flour she had clamped under one arm.

Feeling utterly foolish for being caught browsing through dresses she didn’t need and couldn’t afford, Karissa spun on her heel and strode toward the gray mare she’d left tethered in front of the dry goods store.

She cursed herself soundly for not scraping her long hair up on her head and cramming on the cap that made it difficult to tell if she was male or female. For, sure enough, Arliss Frazier caught sight of her red hair and waddled in her direction. Damn, the man was making a nuisance of himself.

“Deed or not,” Arliss huffed and puffed as he scurried toward her, “I need that property and I want to close our business deal immediately.”

“You are never going to close this deal,” she said in no uncertain terms. “You need to get it through your thick skull that my family and I are here to stay.”

His expression changed from semi-pleasant to downright mean and nasty. “Don’t think that just because you’re a woman, your brother is crippled and your sister-in-law is with child that I intend to be lenient with
any of you. I will find the path of least resistance to gain your cooperation.”

Karissa wheeled around and started forward, but Arliss slammed his oversize body into her, causing her to stumble forward and fall facedown on the ground. She knew he had done that on purpose to drive home his point.

While he stood over her, grinning nastily, her temper hit its flashpoint. She bounded to her feet, bowed her neck and plowed into him. With a squawk he teetered sideways then rolled like a barrel.

“Did you see that?” he railed as he fumbled like an overturned beetle to gather his tree-stump legs beneath him. “The woman knocked me down after I accidentally bumped into her!”

Hands on hips, Karissa glowered at him. “I did no such thing, you conniving scoundrel. You don’t have the decency God gave a mosquito. If you come near my family or me again you won’t be sprawled on the ground. You’ll be buried beneath it.”

Ignoring the crowd that had gathered around her, Karissa plucked up her scattered supplies and stalked off. The very thought of Arliss’s men holding Clint or Amanda for ransom to induce her to sell out had her seeing red. Just because she was a woman, trying to make her way and hold her own in this man’s world, did not mean that she would tolerate threats without voicing a few of her own.

Karissa had learned early on in life that the only way to stand up against men who had evil designs on her was to act as tough as they did. Furthermore, she had been pushed around and knocked down too many times in the past twenty-six years and she was sick to death of it.

By the time Karissa reached the gray mare, Rafe was waiting for her and he didn’t look happy. Well tough, neither was she.

“I do declare, woman,” he drawled sarcastically. “You missed your calling in the theater. You have been in town for only a day and already you have given two attention-grabbing performances.” Rafe sighed audibly and shook his head. “Half the folks in this community, the deputy marshal included, know who you are. By sight, at least, if not by name.”

Karissa stuffed her food supplies in her saddlebag and muttered, “Arliss threatened to harm Clint and Amanda if I didn’t sell out. Then he knocked me flat and claimed it was an accident. I have no intention of allowing him to think I’m a pushover.” She tossed Rafe a frustrated glance. “In the event that I wind up dead I suggest that you question him and his thugs about my untimely demise.”

“And vice versa?” Rafe asked, a smile twitching his sensuous lips.

She shot him a withering glance as she pulled herself into the saddle. When his hand curled around her ankle, she glanced down into that strikingly attractive face that she had seen too often in her dreams.

“If you can find the patience to wait about an hour I’ll escort you back to camp,” he offered.

“No, thank you. I can find my own way.”

Rafe glanced over his shoulder, trying to locate Arliss Frazier then frowned. “You’ve made one enemy already, Karissa. I don’t want you to become the victim of ambush.”

“I’ll be careful,” she assured him as she reined the mare away. “Besides, I spent the last of the money you gave me on supplies and to register the deed in our
name. There is very little left for someone to steal from me.”