Natchez Flame Read Free

quite early.
    Trask ignored them, but his grip on her arm grew tighter.
    Another man stepped through the swinging double doors. “Didn’t think ya liked your women so proper, Brendan.” The red-haired man swept her with a glance so raw it left no doubt as to what he was thinking. “This little gal’s so gussied up it’ll take half the day just to get her clothes off.” Priscilla’s face grew hot and her feet refused to move another step.
    “Leave her be, Jennings,” Trask warned. “And that goes for the rest of you men, too.” He urged her on, and Priscilla forced her feet to move ahead.
    She’d come by steamboat down the Ohio, down the Mississippi all the way to New Orleans. She’d traveled to Galveston by steamship, her stomach tied in knots and hating every moment on the sea. She’d sold everything she owned to come west, to marry a man she had never even seen. But nowhere had she encountered men like these.
    “Deputy’s expectin’ you in his office,” the one called Jennings said. He grinned and cocked his head toward the hotel. “Better not take too long.”
    As his meaning hit home, Priscilla’s step faltered once more. She fought to keep her eyes straight ahead, but lost the battle and glanced again at the men.
They probably eat boiled harness for breakfast
, she thought, noting the greasy canvas breeches, shaggy unkempt hair, and the scraggly growth of beard on one. How would she survive the next few weeks alone in a place like this?
    Trask tugged her forward, his grip a little harder than it should have been. “Town’s full of men like these,” he said roughly. “What the hell was Egan thinking, letting you come out here alone?”
    “He didn’t know I was coming alone,” Priscilla defended, beginning to get angry herself. “My aunt died rather suddenly and … well … there were expenses I hadn’t planned on. I couldn’t afford to bring a lady’s maid, not that it’s any of your business.”
    “Where you from, Miss Wills?” Trask shoved open the door to the lobby, ringing the bell, and held it so she could walk past.
    “I was born in Natchez, but I was raised in Cincinnati. As I told you, I was on my way to join my fiancé,which, thanks to you, has just become an exceedingly difficult task.” Priscilla felt like crying.
Difficult
was hardly the word.
    “I suppose you’d prefer I let him shoot me.”
    “Maybe. Maybe I would at that.” Shoulders thrown back, Priscilla marched up to the desk where a green-visored clerk leaned over a huge leather-bound guest book.
    “I’d like a room, please, and I need someone to obtain my trunks from aboard the steamship
Orleans.”
    The gray-haired clerk eyed her from top to bottom. “You ain’t by yourself, are you?”
    “Well, yes … I …” Priscilla lifted her chin. “My traveling companion fell ill some ways back. I was forced to continue alone.” She glanced at Trask, daring him to contradict, and found his mouth curved up in amusement.
    “This is a respectable hotel, miss. You look proper enough, but … well, let’s just say if you’re plannin’ anything different, you’d best be headin’ next door.”
    Priscilla flushed crimson.
Dear God, what kind of people are these?
“Surely you aren’t implying—”
    “Get the lady a room,” Trask ordered, stepping closer to the desk, “and be quick about it.” The little man swallowed and shoved the guest book in her direction.
    “Yes, sir, Mr. Trask. Sign here, ma’am.” Dipping the quill pen in the inkwell near her elbow, he handed it to Priscilla, and she signed her name in graceful blue letters.
    “How long will you be stayin’?” the clerk asked. She studied the sign on the wall behind him andchewed her bottom lip. Even at the modest rate posted, she couldn’t stay more than four days.
    “I … I’m not really certain.” She’d expected Barker Hennessey to see to her needs until she reached the Egan ranch. She clutched her reticule tighter, wondering what in