Renegade Bride Read Online Free

Even though they hanged the gang's leaders this past winter, a fair number of 'em are robbin' stages every week for the gold shipments, or the miners traveling with their dust."
    "Well, why doesn't the law do something about it?" Mariah demanded.
    "You're not in Chicago now," Creed reminded her. "I'm afraid there's not much law out in these parts yet."
    "Except for men like you."
    A muscle twitched in his cheek. "That's right."
    "I suppose the Montana Territory hasn't caught up with the American concept of 'innocent until proven guilty' either, has it?" she pressed on recklessly. "Do you always shoot men down in cold blood, Mr. Devereaux, or only the ones you have personally convicted and sentenced?"
    "I've never killed a man who didn't need killing, Miss Parsons. Nor have I ever felt the need to answer to anyone but myself."
    "Not even to God, Mr. Devereaux?"
    Something in his eyes—perhaps the flicker of pain that seemed to vanish as soon as it appeared—made her wish she'd kept quiet. He was, after all, Seth's friend. Or so he claimed. But for the life of her, she'd never understand how her gentle Seth could have fallen in with a man as ruthless as Devereaux.
    His eyes narrowed with his scowl and it took him a moment to answer. "That's between Him and me, isn't it? Look, Miss Parsons, you're not obliged to like me, but I promised Seth I'd bring you to him, safe and sound. I intend to do just that. I suggest, however, if we're to be traveling together, you keep your opinions of me to yourself and I'll do my best to do the same. Do we understand each other?"
    Never, she thought, hitching up her chin defiantly. "Perfectly."
    "Good. Now, if you want to change out of those things before we take off, I suggest you hurry," he continued, cracking open an incongruous-looking gold pocket watch he'd withdrawn from a pocket in his fringed buckskin pants. "The only stage for Virginia City leaves in about forty-five minutes."
    Creed placed his hand over hers on the handle of her bag intending to relieve her of it, but a peculiar shock traveled up his arm at the contact. For a moment, he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He sucked in a breath and with an effort, blinked the sensation away. He wondered if she'd felt it, too, as he took her bag from her.
    Mariah, seemingly unfazed by his strange reaction, cast a forlorn glance at her filthy attire. "W-we're leaving now? So soon?"
    Creed forced a casual shrug, belying the tension in his jaw. "Or, you can wait until tomorrow, as you wish."
    Maeve patted her arm. "Mari, dear, why don't ye wait a day or so? Get yer bearings straight. Ye've had quite a scare." She shot a cold glance at Creed, then returned her attention to Mariah. "Yer welcome to stay with us."
    "Aye," agreed Jamie. "There's room at the fort, lass."
    Mariah shook her head. Her throat was knotted with emotion. "I haven't seen Seth in over four years, Maeve. Now he's sick and he needs me. He... he could be dying, for all I know. The sooner I go, the sooner I'll be with him.
    "I'll need my things," she told Devereaux curtly. She snatched back the tapestry grip, then turned to Maeve. "If you can find a suitable place where I can change, I'll be ready whenever Mr. Devereaux is."
    The bounty hunter glanced at the steamer. "You have more luggage, I assume."
    "Only a small trunk. It has yet to be off-loaded."
    "I'll see to it. Meet me at the stage depot at the end of the street in thirty minutes. I'll have your ticket." He turned his back on her without waiting for a reply and stalked up the gangplank.
    Mariah scowled after him, giving a mock salute to his back. "Yes, sir." If he heard her, he didn't turn around. Mariah paced, twisting her hands around the leather handles on her valise.
    "Imagine," she fumed to Maeve, "Seth sending a man like that to protect me! Why, I think I'd be safer in that randy crowd of miners we just rode in with than with that... that barbarian."
    "Faith..." Maeve shook her head