man sitting across from her. She’d have to wait another month or two to enjoy her freedom, but it lessened the load that weighed down her conscience. This symbiotic liaison would be equally beneficial, and she hadn’t had to resort to her father’s manipulative methods to get her way.
She still wasn’t quite clear on exactly what Cale meant by “portraying the loving wife,” but she’d heard it whispered by her friends that feigning headaches, various illnesses and monthly feminine conditions worked effectively in holding amorous husbands at bay. Surely Cale wouldn’t want to upset her by forcing unwanted intimacy on her, since he desperately needed her cooperation in this masquerade to avenge his brother’s death.
Why, she could drop the entire charade at any moment, she realized. Then where would he be? For once she had the power to control the situation. He needed her, she realized, with an unfamiliar sense of pride and gratification. She’d been used before, plenty of times. Men perceived her only as a means to obtain wealth, as a prestigious trophy to drape on their arms. She’d never really been needed for a higher purpose.
My, that was something, wasn’t it? This self-sufficient, highly skilled gunfighter needed her, as much as she needed him. Hanna was firmly convinced now that fate was smiling down on her. Furthermore, if she succeeded in transforming Cale into a gentleman, she wouldn’t have to fret about her illogical attraction to him evolving into deep attachment. She, after all, disliked polished gentlemen, and she’d become immune to their practiced charm. The way she saw it, her bargain with Cale placed her in a no-lose situation. The man and this arrangement were positively perfect.
“Very well,” she said decisively. “We have a bargain. The sooner we’re married the better. In addition, you’ve mastered your first social skill, sir.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” he asked curiously.
“You managed to conduct a civilized conversation that lasted more than a minute.”
She smiled and he smiled back. Another unfamiliar sensation flooded her chest when his onyx eyes sparkled with amusement. It was as if they’d just formed an unlikely bond and cleared another hurdle in their negotiations. The expression of relief that settled on his rugged features must surely have mirrored her own sentiments. The bargain was set. Excitement and anticipation sizzled through Hanna.
She was one step closer to casting off the yoke of her father’s domination and embracing her promising future.
All she had to do was fight her way through an infestation of outlaws and renegades in the wild, untamed territory that was known as the Armageddon of the West. She’d do her part to aid in the capture of a notorious murderer and his army of ruthless desperadoes.
And then she’d be home free….
Good gad! What was she getting herself into?
Chapter Four
Hanna awoke the next morning teeming with excitement and anticipation. She was anxious to gather supplies that would aid in her quest to discover her hidden talents. With a tidy roll of cash stashed in her reticule, she opened the hotel room door, then smiled in greeting when Cale’s door opened a moment later.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. To her dismay his penetrating gaze drifted over her pale blue gown and lingered on the gold locket around her neck. She thought she looked passable in her simple gown, but apparently he disagreed.
“Take Skeet with you,” he said without preamble as he clutched her arm to assist her down the steps.
“That isn’t necessary,” she insisted. “I’m only going to pick up a few gowns and supplies at the general store.”
“Skeet, guard,” Cale ordered the menacing-looking dog, which reminded Hanna more of a wolf than a domesticated canine. “I’ll purchase the buckboard and trail rations for the trip while you’re shopping. I’m due to testify in court this afternoon, so I’ll speak with Judge Parker about the ceremony.”
Another surge of excitement washed through her as she descended the steps. Considering Cale’s swift efficiency, she might be wed within a few days—making her untouchable to her father. The prospect filled her with elation and she smiled.
“You look mighty pleased with yourself, Miz Magnolia,” Cale noted, studying her intently. “Any particular reason why?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to reveal her true identity and the reason for her excitement, but caution bade her to bide her time. She’d tell Cale everything he wanted to know after she had the marriage license in hand.
“I’m eager for our wedding.” It was the truth—sort of.
“Eager to marry me?” He scoffed. “I doubt it.”
Hanna halted abruptly on the landing. “Now, see here, Mr. Elliot, I will not have you putting yourself down in my presence. I don’t care what anyone in this town—or this entire country, for that matter—thinks. You are the perfect husband and I want you to be mine!”
Cale blinked in surprise when she emphatically defended his worthiness for the second time. Damn, if this mere wisp of a female didn’t make him feel good about himself.
He stared at her uplifted chin, then his traitorous gaze drifted over the scooped-neck bodice of her gown and the trim indentation of her waist. She was such a tempting morsel—which was why he insisted on sending Skeet along as a bodyguard.
The woman didn’t seem to have a clue how much trouble she could get into just tramping down the streets of this rowdy town. If any man tried to lay a hand on her, Skeet would make him back off—or risk losing a few fingers.
“I’ll meet you back here for lunch,” Cale instructed as he escorted her down the last flight of steps. “In the meantime, pay attention to your surroundings. Got it?”
When she laid her hand on his arm and smiled up at him, Cale steadied himself against the baffling sensations her touch evoked. Her skin was as smooth as alabaster and his was as rough as alligator hide. That was just another reminder of the polar differences between them. And if she didn’t stop reaching out and touching him unexpectedly he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind on business.
Bottom line—this woman’s touch affected him. She affected him. Keeping his vow to bypass a wedding night was going to be torture, pure and simple.
Of course, Miz Rawlins from N’Awlins had a noticeable effect on all men, Cale decided as he stared at the male crowd that hovered by the door—with their tongues hanging out and their leers directed at his future bride.
“It’s so sweet of you to fret about me,” she said, totally oblivious to the gaggle of men gawking at her.
“I’m a long way from sweet,” he snorted. “No one has ever used that word to describe me before.”
“Then they obviously don’t know what a fine man you are,” she insisted. “But I can take care of myself. Truly.”
That, he thought, remained to be seen. Cale placed his hand possessively on the small of her back to guide her through the raft of men staring at her as if they’d never seen a woman before. Certainly not one as refined and bewitching as this one.
He inwardly groaned when they stepped outside to
