him.
“I am aware of The Flat’s reputation,” Winston acknowledged before he took another long draw on his pipe. “Which is why I want you to leave immediately. I don’t know precisely when Bri’s stagecoach is due to arrive at The Flat. Fortunately her new fiancé is accompanying her.”
Wonderful, now he had to babysit and escort two citified greenhorns across the rugged terrain of the outlaw-infested badlands. Damn it, this unexpected assignment kept getting worse by the minute.
“I will be leaving your battalion this afternoon to inspect another Ranger unit,” Winston reported. Frustration must have shown on Hud’s face because Winston smiled sympathetically and patted him on the shoulder. “I understand your need for revenge, son. I lost several dear friends in the war. But rest assured that you will be back in a few days to resume command of your manhunt. I will assume responsibility for my daughter while she’s here.”
That should be fun, Hud thought sourly. The other men would be bowing and scraping over her and she’d probably soak up the male attention like a sponge. Most likely one adoring fiancé and a doting father wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Miss La-Di-Da Gabrielle Price.
“Bri is a very unique individual,” Winston boasted.
Of course, Winston would say she was unique. He was her father. Either that or sweet little Bri was unique because she had an extra finger on each hand or eyes in the back of her head. Whatever the case, Hud considered her an inconvenience of gigantic proportions.
Winston smiled fondly as a halo of smoke drifted around his head. “As a child she tried to be the son I never had. I called her the little general.”
It took considerable effort for Hud to keep from rolling his eyes. He had a personal and professional crusade driving him. He had vowed to apprehend Speck Horton’s murderer and this ridiculous escort detail was a waste of his valuable time and considerable skills as a Ranger.
“Then Bri blossomed into a woman and men showed up at my doorstep, requesting her company when she came to visit me.”
Hud looked at Winston and tried to imagine his broad forehead and angular features plastered on a female. It was not a particularly appealing image.
He didn’t know for sure but he presumed by Winston’s comment that he and his wife didn’t share the same residence. He wondered if Bri played her mother against her father to get what she wanted. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit.
“Now Bri’s mother has earmarked a young politician for her match and given her stamp of approval. If Bri is coming to ask for my formal blessing then she will have it. If this is what she wants. Bring my daughter to me, safe and sound, Captain Stone.”
The commander’s solemn expression and forceful tone implied “or else…”
“I will never forget the favor. Plus, I will alert the other Ranger battalions I visit about your friend’s killer so they can provide information to aid in your search.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hud said begrudgingly.
Then he wheeled around so Commander Price couldn’t see his scowl. Hud didn’t want to be relieved of his duty of tracking a ruthless killer, just so the commander could have his daughter escorted to him for a formal approval of her politician fiancé.
Swearing a blue streak Hud stalked off to gather his gear, saddle his horse and rush off to Fort Griffin to protect the female who should’ve had more sense than to venture to the hellhole in the first place.
While Hud was in town, he might take time to single out one of the harlots and scratch an itch that had gone unattended for more months than he cared to count. He ought to get something pleasurable from this mandatory trip. For sure and certain, chaperoning a pampered princess, whose father could dishonorably discharge him from Ranger service for disobeying a direct order, could destroy his future plans.
Hud glanced into the distance as he crammed his belongings into his saddlebags. He and Speck Horton had planned to build a prosperous ranch on the land grant they were to receive in compensation for their service to the Rangers. Now Speck wouldn’t be around to help Hud make that dream come true.
Still scowling at the unexpected turn of events that interrupted his manhunt, Hud swung into the saddle, turned his back on Angel Mesa—the rugged caprock that dropped into a maze of canyons—and pointed himself toward Fort Griffin. Two hours later, he realized that he hadn’t bothered to ask the commander for a description of his daughter.
“How the hell am I supposed to know who she is or where to find her?” he asked Rambler, the sturdy black gelding he was riding. “Right.” He gave a caustic smirk. “She’ll be the one wearing a diamond-encrusted tiara and who has a wide forehead, straight brown hair and dark eyes like her father.”
Hud had yet to meet Gabrielle—or Bri, the pet name her father used. But he disliked her sight unseen.
Gabrielle Price squirmed restlessly on the hard stagecoach seat and listened to her unwanted fiancé drone his life story to the three male passengers traveling with them to Fort Griffin. She flung Eaton Powell II a disgruntled glance and wished him to be anywhere else but here with her. She hadn’t requested his company on this trip. Indeed, she wanted to come alone but Eaton had insisted on traveling with her. He’d spouted something about protecting her from unscrupulous characters and using the trip to campaign for his next venture as a U.S. Senator.
Bri knew Eaton’s wealthy family had bought him votes to get him elected into Austin’s politics. She couldn’t imagine how many voters he thought he could contact at The Flat and the fort. The community wasn’t known for being public- or civic-minded. But Eaton claimed he wanted to branch out and locate other donors who might fund his campaign.
She wondered if his family had finally objected to his excessive habit of throwing around money and ordered him to find someone else to fund his campaign expenses and his extravagant spending.
Whatever the ulterior reason, Eaton had tagged along, much to her chagrin. She had been stuck on the train and then in a crowded stagecoach with him. So much for this spur-of-the-moment trip that was supposed to take her far away from Eaton.
“My father and brother are bankers in Austin,” Eaton was telling the other passengers when Bri got around to listening. “But I am more interested in serving my state and nation and becoming a spokesman for the common man.”
Bri knew Eaton had no real interest in serving anyone anywhere. His priority was his own ambition.
She turned her head and smirked while Eaton preened and passed around his manufactured smile. He smoothed his dark brown hair into place with an exaggerated gesture of his hand, and called attention to the gaudy rings that sparkled on his long fingers.
Spokesman for the common man? That was laughable. Not only was Eaton an elitist but he was also an exceptional performer. He could tell a convincing story, make all the right noises and sound sincere when the mood suited him. But mostly he was full of hot air and he bored Bri to tears.
She had observed him at his best, worst and all moods in between and had found nothing endearing or appealing about him. Furthermore, she wasn’t naive enough to think he felt any fond affection for her. No, it was her mother’s prestigious family name of Roland and their vast wealth that attracted Eaton. Bri’s mother and Eaton’s aunt hailed from what polite society referred to as two of the “first families” in Texas. They had been
