Carol Finch Read Free Page B

forward.
    When she kicked aside the stake near her foot, Fletcher Hawk yelped in surprise. The camouflaged rope she’d secured to an overhanging tree limb clamped around his ankle like a steel beaver trap. She watched with wicked satisfaction as he flipped upside down and hung suspended in the air. She chuckled triumphantly while he cursed a blue streak.
    Savanna was ready and waiting when he twisted sideways in an attempt to shoot the rope that held him suspended like a side of cured beef. She scooped up a makeshift club and whacked him on the head. Her shoulders sagged in relief when a dull groan tumbled from Fletcher Hawk’s lips and he sagged motionlessly.
    Thunk. She watched the pearl-handled pistol drop from his fingertips. Clank. The second pistol slid from the holster and dropped beside the first. She arched an amused brow when the Bowie knife that had been strapped to his thigh joined the two Colt pistols. A smaller dagger slidfrom his left shirtsleeve and thudded to the ground. A boot pistol popped free and smacked him on the forehead before coming to rest atop the impressive arsenal of weapons.
    She was pleased with the tack of hardware she’d confiscated, along with the ammunition on his belt. But she almost stopped breathing when two shiny badges dropped from the concealed pocket of his black leather vest.
    “Oh, damn…” She plucked up the Texas Ranger star and the Deputy U.S. Marshal badge. It was bad enough that she’d been wrongfully accused of murder and had a $20,000 bounty on her head. Now she had added resisting arrest and assault on a doubly authorized officer of the law.
    “I wonder if a woman can hang twice if she’s convicted of murder and assaulting a Deputy Marshal/Texas Ranger?” she said to herself. “Damn opportunistic Ranger anyway.”
    No doubt, he planned to reap the benefits of the bounty. He had all the authorization and jurisdiction needed to haul her to Oliver Draper so he could string her up.
    Savanna sighed in exasperation. Her life expectancy was getting shorter by the day.

Chapter Two
    F letch awoke with a hellish headache—and a barrel load of embarrassment. He’d fallen for the oldest trick in the Apache handbook. Worse, it had been a woman who’d suckered him in. Never once during their encounter or conversation had she glanced down to gauge how close he stood to the trap.
    She was one hell of an actress and she’d caught him completely off guard. He shouldn’t have underestimated Savanna Cantrell, Fletch told himself as he discreetly pried one eye open to survey his surroundings.
    It was dark and the cool mountain air settled over him. When he tried to shift position, he realized he’d been staked out spread-eagle on the ground. His wrists were lashed to the tree behind his head and his bare feet were anchored to a tree three feet beyond his legs. His shirt and vest were gone, along with all his hardware.
    Fletch bit back an enraged growl and reminded himself that he was supposed to be playing possum so his captor wouldn’t know that he’d regained consciousness. Didn’t matter how cautious he was, he realized fifteen minuteslater. That wily witch didn’t seem to be nearby—and, damn it, neither was his horse!
    “Son of a bitch!” Fletch hissed. He’d been outraged when a gang of outlaws had ambushed him and stole Appy five years earlier. He hadn’t liked it then, but this was ten times worse. This time a pint-size female posing as an Indian maiden had bested him, not four hardened criminals. He had a scar on his thigh to remind him of the ambush, but he’d never forget how foolish he felt after dealing with the crafty Savanna Cantrell.
    Fletch swore loudly and colorfully as he strained against the leather strips that held him fast. And to think Bill Solomon had pleaded with him to put his personal crusade on hold to locate Savanna. Innocent? He doubted it. Frightened and out of her element in the wilds? Not hardly!
    “Good, you’re finally awake.”