Carol Finch Read Online Free Page A

that didn’t quite add up.
    The thought turned to a flash of pain when she came awake with a start and accidentally banged her head into his chin when she pushed herself upright. His teeth snapped together so quickly that he bit his tongue.
    “Oh, sorry, Calvin. Where are we? What’s going on? Are we being robbed?” she demanded in an unfamiliar voice.
    “No, we’ve just stopped for the night,” he said, studying her suspiciously.
    Abruptly, she became the old woman he thought he knew. Her voice changed, and so did her manner. Her image shifted before his eyes as she clutched her cane, then tapped him on the shoulder with it.
    “You climb down first. I’ll be behind you when I get my wits together.”
    And so he climbed down. He also waited beside the coach—just in case she stumbled and needed a hand down. The dog bailed out first and trotted off to the nearest scrub bush. Then Agatha’s plumed hat and veil came into view. For a split second Quinn thought he caught sight of her face in the light, but she ducked her head so quickly that he couldn’t tell what she looked like.
    Having been warned off previously, he didn’t offer to take her hand, but he waited nearby in case she found herself in need of his support. He watched as she carefully extended her foot to the step. She anchored her hands on the door frame, then stepped down beside him.
    “Nice place.” She smirked as she scanned the shabby stone and timber trading post that had been built at the base of the rugged mountains. “I’ve heard this part of Texas referred to as Hell’s Fringe. It seems to fit.”
    “At least the place is reasonably clean,” he reported as he fell into step beside her. He flashed her a wry grin. “It even has a tub upstairs for those of us who need to bathe. Naturally, I’ll want to spiffy up so I won’t offend you.”
    She burst out with a hee-hee-hee, much to his amazement. “Oh, come now, Calvin, surely you know me well enough by now to realize that I would have insisted that you ride up top with the driver and guard if I found you offensive.”
    Curiosity got the better of him as they entered the crude trading post. “Let me guess, you ousted someone during the first leg of your journey. Forced them up to the luggage rack, did you?”
    “Of course I did. The two heathens reeked of whiskey and turned offensively obnoxious. The stench was so overpowering that it made my eyes water. If I were younger I would have climbed atop the coach to avoid them.”
    “It might help if you discarded that thick veil,” Quinn suggested. “It probably traps in smoke and foul aromas.”
    “And expose this horribly disfigured face of mine?” she scoffed. “Trust me, Calvin, this veil is for your convenience and protection as much as mine.”
    When the proprietor—who, according to the wooden plaque on the counter was named Ike—objected to the mutt following Agatha inside, she chastised the mammoth of a man. It wasn’t until she offered a silver dollar to pay for the mutt, that the proprietor backed off.
    “Okay, lady, but keep that mangy animal off the bed,” Ike insisted harshly.
    “Deal. But I just bathed him. He is as clean as the restof us. And certainly much easier to get along with,” she said with a disgruntled sniff.
    She plucked the key from his beefy hand and swept off, her cane thumping rhythmically against the floor and the steps as she disappeared from sight.
    “Feisty old witch,” Ike muttered after her.
    “Hey, leave her alone.” Quinn slammed his mouth shut, wondering why he was defending Agatha.
    Apparently, Ike was wondering the same thing because he blinked at him in surprise. “That your granny or something?” he asked as he handed over the room key.
    “No, but if I had one I’d want her to be just as full of sass and spunk as Agatha. She doesn’t take any guff and she doesn’t let anyone push her around. You gotta admire that about her.”
    “Do I?” Ike pocketed the extra dollar.