Читать книгу Fury's Love - Tess Mathews - Страница 10

"You're just in time; I was about to close up and go home," Fury heard Miles Keaton shout out as she came into his livery.

"Hi, Miles."

"Fury, is that you?"

"Yes." Fury dismounted and handed the reins of her horse to her friend.

Miles Keaton was one of Fury's few friends. She'd tracked down his wife's murderer, and Miles would do anything for Fury.

"Whatcha doing in town?" Miles asked.

"Lookin' for someone, of course. Miles, you got any information on Dan Davenport, also known as Cutter Dan? He is 6-foot-tall, about two hundred plus pounds of muscle, dark hair, and dark eyes."

"Cutter Dan. I've heared of him. Not a nice fella. Evil."

"Yes, he is evil for sure. He hunts, murders, and mutilates young women, then he cuts his initials C.D. on their forehead." Fury was silent then, waiting for Miles to respond.

"You know, Fury, it's funny how people are with their animals.''

"What?" Fury replied, believing the man had not listened, but she knew that sometimes Miles took time to get to the point.

"Fury, you ever talk to your horse?"

"Sometimes."

"A lot of folks do. Before they leave their horse, they will stand there and tell the animal all kinda things. Folks who leave their horses here forget I am even around, so I hear a lot."

"And?" added Fury, losing her patience.

"A week or so back, a big fella come in with his horse. He kinda fits your description. If I'd known he might be Cutter Dan, I woulda hightailed it to the law."

"Go on."

"He left his horse with me, and I put him in the stall over yonder. Thirty minutes later, he comes back, telling me he forgot to get his saddlebags. I pointed him toward his horse's stall, and I go back to working. Well, when he gets to the stall, sure enough, he starts talking to his horse. He forgets I'm there. Most people do, and he tells his horse it won't be much longer, and they will be in Mexico. But first, they have to lay low and wait for the law to get tired of looking for him. This fella tells his horse they've got a long ride ahead of them, to Langston. It's a few days south of here; anyway, he says he knows there is an abandoned cabin outside of town where they can hole up. Then he tells his horse there are grassy meadows where the horse kin graze and cool water to drink from a river. There is no sweeter tasting water than the water in Spiny River."

Miles paused and smiled at Fury.

"Funny how some horrible people kin care about an animal."

"You be careful," he said with a smile and turned to walk Fury's horse to the stall.

"Miles, don't tell anyone else your story," Fury said.

Miles raised his hand as he walked away, his way of signaling Fury that he heard what she said.

Max passed by Fury as she left to go to the hotel. Fury figured the dog wanted to bed down in the livery with her horse.

Her hollow stomach growled. When she hunted a bounty, she lived on limited provisions and learned to ignore her hunger. But being in a town with some money in her pocket meant treating herself to a real meal. The thought of a home-cooked meal, especially one cooked by Nora Bailey, the owner of Bailey's restaurant, enticed her. Even the thought of Nora's juicy fried chicken and melt-in-your-mouth chocolate cake made Fury's mouth water.

"Hey, kid."

Fury sighed when she recognized the man in front of her. She was annoyed at herself that she'd broken one of Hank's most important survival rules—always be aware of your surroundings.

"I'm not a kid," she answered as she attempted to walk around the large ranger standing in front of her.

The top of Fury's head barely reached the middle of his chest. Fury hated to look up at someone; after all, how can you be intimidating when someone is towering over you? She reluctantly tilted her gaze slightly up, ready to give the ranger her best intimidating stare, but something happened—a bit of Belle slipped by Fury's wall as she considered his jade eyes enhanced by his tanned skin. She remembered his brown sugar-colored hair and the strong angular lines of his face. He was the kind of man Belle dreamed about when she imagined her future husband.

A warm smile broke across his face. "Kid, you all right?"

"Um, yeah, what?"

"I asked if you are all right. You looked a bit lost for a moment."

"I ain't lost," she said as Fury pushed Belle back and regained control. "What ya want from me, mister?"

"I want to help you. Do you have a place to stay? Have you eaten?"

"I thought you were a ranger, not my fairy godmother," Fury said with a shadow of humor in her otherwise flat voice.

Travis grinned at the insult. "No, I'm not your fairy godmother. I want to help you like someone helped me once. You see, when I was around your age, I was orphaned. I drifted from town to town and got in some trouble. A Texas Ranger took me in, and he changed my life. I would probably be in jail or dead if someone hadn't reached out and helped me."

Fury folded her arms across her chest.

"Uh huh, and you want to change my life. Well, no thanks, go find another charity case."

Fury stepped around him, but as she passed, Travis grabbed her arm. "But, kid—"

Travis noticed something on the kid's arm. Even in the fading evening light, it was plain to see the bell-shaped birthmark.

Fury felt him tighten his grip as he pulled her arm closer to get a better look. She tried to retrieve her arm from his iron grip, but he held on.

"Belle?" Travis half whispered. He glared at Fury's eyes, a faded violet, not the piercing shade they once shone. Maybe the harshness of her life had robbed them of their uniqueness. Travis searched them, hoping for recognition but received only silence.

His hold weakened, and Fury succeeded in yanking her arm from his grip. She jerked her sleeve down to cover her birthmark.

"Have you gone loco? Why in the hell are you calling me a bell?"

Travis shook off his stunned trance. "Because it's your name. You are Belle, the girl who went missing a few years ago, the girl with the bell-shaped birthmark."

"Listen, Ranger, I don't know what you've been drinking, but my name ain't Belle and I sure as hell ain't no girl. Leave me alone, mister, or I may have to shoot you."

Travis chuckled at her warning and watched as Fury stomped away from where he stood. He knew he'd found his Belle.

Fury drummed her fingers on the red gingham tablecloth, contemplating what to do about the troublesome lawman.

"Here you go," Mrs. Bailey said in a cheery tone as she plopped a bowl of stew and a stack of fresh baked bread in front of Fury.

Fury nodded her approval, and Mrs. Bailey left to tend to her other customers.

How could I be so stupid, so careless? She picked at her food. That meddling ranger knows who I am. What am I going to do?

Fury scooped up a spoonful of stew and guided it to her mouth. I could shoot him. Naw, Fury, you can't shoot Travis. Besides, he's a ranger. There would be too many questions. I don't recall him being so damn irritating. I gotta step up my plans and avoid that infuriating ranger.

The aroma of the stew overpowered Fury's worries concerning the ranger. She ate like a starved animal, enjoying every juicy warm morsel. The meal warmed her insides and comforted her worries until an unwelcome visitor sat down across from her.

"I don't recall invitin' anyone to eat with me," Fury said, not lifting her gaze from her meal.

"You didn't; I invited myself."

"Well, you can just uninvite yourself, mister."

"Not until we talk."

"You sure like to take risks with your life, mister."

"Who's threatening my life?" Travis chuckled.

Fury raised her gaze and glared at him. "If I have to tell you, then you are a bigger fool than I thought."

"Listen here," Travis leaned in, "I've had just about enough of your threats. I'm here to help you."

"I told you I ain't no charity case."

"I was planning to leave you be," Travis said as he leaned in closer, "that is until I found out you are Belle."

The hair on the back of Fury's neck prickled as she felt the heat of anger rising on her face. "Shut the hell up; you are begging for a bullet. I told you I ain't this Belle, and I certainly ain't no girl!"

"Well, if I am wrong, you won't object to showing me your arm again." Travis grasped her arm.

Fury yanked it from his hold. "I'm warning you, mister; I have killed men for less."

"Look," Travis said, keeping his voice down, "I don't intend to bring you any harm, but I am sure you are Belle, and I'm not gonna leave you alone until you admit it. Let's go somewhere and talk."

"I ain't going anywhere with you." Fury stood, scraping the legs of her chair on the wooden floor. "Stay the hell away from me."

Fury reached in her pocket and removed some money. She slammed the money on the table and walked out, leaving Travis sitting with only the remainder of her stew to keep him company.

When she got to her room, Fury slammed the door and threw her saddle bag on the bed. "That insufferable clod of a man is going to get me killed. I need to get out of here and away from him as fast as I can."

She plopped down on the bed and rubbed her temples. Anger boiled inside her; she needed to breathe, to settle down. Fury never let anger or any other emotion take over. She needed to regain control. A small dust cloud came off her jacket as she removed it and draped it on a chair with her tattered hat. Fury began to unbutton her shirt but was stopped by an unwelcome pounding on her door.

"Great, what now?" She rebuttoned her shirt and put her jacket and hat back on. Keeping her hand on her gun, Fury approached the door.

"What you want?" she asked.

There was no response from the other side of the door. The pounding resumed.

"You can wear out your hand for all I care, I ain't answering that door until I know who it is."

"It's me, Travis."

Fury rolled her eyes. "Now I'm sure I ain't opening that door. Go away, Ranger." Her ears perked, listening for the sound of his footsteps leaving, but no sound came. "Suit yourself; you can sleep there if ya want, but I better not find you there in the morning."

Silence. Then the clanging sound of keys, and Fury's door swung open.

Fury drew her gun on Travis who stood in the doorway holding a bowl of stew.

"I suggest you put that gun away. You didn't finish your stew." He held the bowl out toward Fury.

"How in the hell did you get the keys to the room?"

"Oh, me and the desk clerk came to an understanding." Travis smiled. "Now, where do you want me to put your stew?"

"You know where you can put that stew; you can put it up your—"

"I wouldn't finish that statement if I were you; put your gun down and eat."

His brazen behavior stunned her.

"You gotta be some kind of peculiar crazy, mister."

"I told you to put your gun down." Travis took a few steps toward her.

Her mind contradicted itself. Part of her wanted to shoot him, but part held back. As a bounty hunter, she didn't allow indecision, but here she was wanting to shoot the man in front of her but unable to do so.

Travis reached out and grasped her gun from her hand as if the weapon were a toy in the hands of a naughty child. "I'm gonna hold on to this for a while." He placed the bowl on a small nightstand. "Eat, and we can talk in the morning."

Fury froze; she remained standing with her mouth hung open, trying to understand her inability to react.

Travis strode over to the door." I will see you in the morning." He began to turn the knob then stopped. "Oh, I suppose I should leave this with you." He held up her gun and then placed it on the floor next to the door. "Goodnight."

Fury picked up the bowl of stew and hurled it at the closing door.

The door crept back open, and Travis peered in. "Smashing a bowl against the door?" Travis smiled and shook his head. "That's what I would expect an angry woman to do, not a notorious gunman." Travis tipped his hat and closed the door.

Fury shook her head. What in the hell just happened? She ran over and picked up her gun then locked the door.

His key.

Fury spied a wooden chair sitting next to the door. She scooted the chair in front of the door and propped it under the doorknob. I gotta get out of here and away from him, quick. Damn it, Fury, why are you letting this man get to you? You should shoot him and be done with it.

Fury hurled her hat at the chair, flinging her coat after it. She walked over to the bed and flopped down. She struggled to get her boots off then threw them in a corner and lay back on the bed. The bed was every bit the soft luxury she wanted to give herself tonight, but the worrisome ranger occupied her awareness, stealing this bit of pampering from her. The moment Travis discovered her birthmark played in her mind.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Fury? Why didn't I remember to roll my sleeves back down when I got to town? Hank warned me; it's the little things that will get you. I really messed things up this time... Damn that eagle-eyed Travis. Those damn, mossy eyes, yes, they were green, and his hair, what I could see of it, was kinda wavy brown, and his smile, what a warm smile. And I think he has dimples—w-what in the hell is wrong with you? Fury slapped the palm of her hand over her face. Why in the hell are you mooning over a man who could get you killed? Her hand slid down to her chest." Where did all this come from? Holy smoke, it's like Belle mooning over a boy. Well, Belle, I corked you and your emotions up a long time ago. I must be tired for them to slip by so easily. Fury yawned, her body sinking into the plush comfort of the bed.

"Just put all those thoughts away," she mumbled. Gotta stay focused, gotta stay away from Travis, yes, stay away from Travis. Fury's eyes drifted closed. Stay away from that smile, away from those dimples. Gotta stay away.

In addition to the key to Fury's room, the desk clerk, with a bit of persuasion from Travis, arranged for him to stay in the room adjacent to Fury's.

Travis removed his boots and shirt. His years as a ranger made him prefer to keep his pants on and his gun lying next to his head, ready for any unwelcome visitor.

He stretched his long body across the soft bed. Usually, the luxury of a bed would cause sleep to come quickly, but not tonight. Tonight, his mind raced as fast as his heart pumped in his chest. He propped up on the pillow, cradling his head against his arm, and listened to his thoughts.

I found her. After all these years, I found Belle. It's hard to believe that dirty, ill-mannered and foul-mouthed bounty hunter is the sweet, angelic Belle. But wait, what if I'm wrong? What if I see what I want to see? Am I fooling myself?

Travis scratched his head. His smile drooped as he questioned himself.

Wait, wait a minute, the birthmark was definitely bell-shaped, but is that enough proof? I have good instincts about people, after all, I am a ranger, it's practically a requirement to be a good lawman, everything in me tells me Fury is Belle.

Travis lay quiet for a moment; then the smile returned to his face.

Travis, you idiot, you forgot those eyes. Yes, Fury's eyes are tired, but they are the same shade as Belle's eyes. They may not be as piercing as they once were, but it is the same blue-violet color. Two people cannot have that same color eyes along with a bell-shaped birthmark. Fury is Belle, and she is in the next room.

Travis reached back, resting the palm of his hand on the wall behind his bed. He found comfort in knowing Belle's bed and his shared this common wall.

I know it's you, Belle, and I'm taking you home.