The Gunfighter and the Heiress - By Carol Finch Page 0,24

except for a strip of white down the length of his nose. The marking resembled an arrow.

Making her selection, she pulled her oversize cap down round her ears then strode toward the door she presumed led to the owner’s living quarters. She rapped on the door and waited impatiently before knocking again.

“Hold your horses, I’m coming,” the owner grumbled from the other side of the door.

Natalie nodded to the fifty-year-old—or thereabouts—barrel-bellied man who had a sparse smattering of gray hair on his head. His shoulders were as wide as a bull’s and his legs reminded her of tree stumps.

“Whad’ya want, kid?” he demanded gruffly.

“Need a horse,” she replied in her deepest voice, to throw off the owner so he would mistake her for a boy. “Want to buy the strapping black one and I got money to pay for it.”

“Yeah? Stolen money?” he asked, and snorted. “Can’t have that one. Belongs to Crow. He pays me damn good money to make sure Durango is well fed and ready to ride when he wants him.”

Should’ve known, she thought. The muscular mount looked as if he could run all day and night without breaking a sweat. The horse reminded her of Crow—tough, powerful and dependable.

“Give me the second best mount you have. I gotta ride west to see my sick mama,” she mumbled. “A boy’s gotta be there when his mama needs him, ya know.”

The owner squinted suspiciously at her. “You sure you got money that ain’t stolen?”

“Hard-earned,” she insisted. “I’m not a thief, mister.”

She must have sounded convincing because the older man finally nodded and lumbered down the aisle to open the stall where a strawberry roan waited. “I s’pose you need tack, too, huh, kid?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” She fished several bank notes from her pants pocket to give to the owner.

Within a few minutes, Natalie led her mount around the corner to toss her luggage on the back of her horse. She tied the satchels in place then caught sight of a darting shadow from the corner of her eye. She tried to scream her head off but a man’s hand clamped over the lower portion of her face, making it difficult to breathe and impossible to yell for help. He slammed her back against his solid chest and leaned down to growl venomously in her ear.

“Going somewhere? I don’t think so. Besides, you forgot something and I’m here to see you get it.”

Van jerked the cap off Natalie’s head. Wild curls tumbled around her shoulders. He had a good mind to give the glossy strands a yank. Despite her boy’s clothing, he’d known by the way she moved that she was female—and he knew exactly which female in particular. His runaway wife.

Hell, they hadn’t been married five hours and already she was hightailing it out of town without him.

And she hadn’t paid him, either. In good faith, he hadn’t pressed the issue. Maybe he should have.

“Good Lord,” she gushed when he removed his hand from her mouth and she glanced up at him. “You scared ten years off my life.”

“Too bad, sunshine. I’m mad as hell at you for scaring ten years off mine. I stopped by your room and found you gone. I thought the bushwhackers had sneaked in, grabbed you and your belongings and decided to hold you for bargaining power to get even with me.”

He got right in her face, bared his teeth and added, “Do not ever do that again. Understand?”

“I’m doing you a huge favor, damn it,” she snapped.

“Are you? Doesn’t feel like it to me.” He displayed the document he’d retrieved from the justice of the peace a few minutes earlier and shook it in her face. “I thought you were in an all-fired rush to get hold of this paper. My name is on it. So are the witnesses. And where’s my money for the use of my name? You trying to skip out without paying?”

He wasn’t really worried about his marriage fee, but he was irritated and he hadn’t liked the unfamiliar feelings of fear and concern that lambasted him when he realized Natalie had vanished into thin air.

“Certainly not,” she said in offended dignity. “I would have wired you the money as soon as possible.”

“Instead, you can give it to me in person when we return to your room because you are not leaving town without me.”

She blinked, startled. “I’m a liability you can ill afford, Crow. My stepfather tracked me here and hired someone to dispose of you.