Natchez Flame Read Free Page A

heaven she would do when her four days had ended.
    “She’ll be here at least three weeks,” Brendan told the desk clerk. “It’ll take that long to get word to her people and for them to come get her.”
    Priscilla swallowed hard. “That … that isn’t exactly correct,” she said. “As I said before, I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be here.” If only she could find someone to take Mr. Hennessey’s place. She could reach the Triple R as they had planned and Stuart wouldn’t have to be burdened.
    Priscilla glanced at Trask, who appeared ready to argue, and felt a jolt of inspiration that seemed almost divine.
    Trask! Trask could do it! He was obviously well suited for the arduous journey. He had shot Hennessey, the tough man sent to protect her, he could take Hennessey’s place. In fact, it was only fitting—Trask should be the one to take her. He owed her that much.
    She flashed him the brightest smile she could muster, which under the circumstances, wasn’t all that much. “Do you think Mr. Hennessey booked passage in advance for our journey to Corpus Christi?”
    “Probably. But I’m sure they’ll be happy to refund the money.”
    “How far is it from there to the Triple R?”
    “From what I know of it—and I’ve never beenthere—I’d say a good four-day ride over some very rough country. Why?” he asked warily.
    “Surely you can see, Mr. Trask, the obvious solution is for you to escort me. It could take weeks for word to reach Stuart. It would take time for him to make travel preparations and time to make the trip here. I, on the other hand, am packed and ready to leave.”
    “No,” he said simply.
    “Why not? Since you’re the man who … who … posed this particular problem, you are obviously the man who should solve it.”
    Trask shook his head. “Not a chance, Miss Wills. You’re Egan’s problem, not mine. Besides, I’ll be leaving Galveston at dawn. I’ve got a job waiting for me on the Brazos.”
    Priscilla clutched the folds of her skirt, determined he would not see her cry. “What kind of a job, Mr. Trask? Some sort of hired gun—or do you plan to make your money gambling—foxing weaker people out of theirs?”
    Trask’s look turned hard, his lips becoming a thin grim line. “As a matter of fact, I plan to do a little bit of both.”
    “You owe me, Mr. Trask. Barker Hennessey was here to protect me. Who’s going to protect me now?”
    Good question
, Brendan thought, for she had just voiced the problem that had been plaguing him since the moment he’d discovered she was alone. Who the hell would look after her? Egan had chosen well with Hennessey. For all his faults, Barker was loyal to Egan and tougher than a cob. Now, thanks to Hennessey’stoo-quick temper, the woman was left with no one.
    He glanced in her direction, saw the worry she tried to conceal—and a surprising amount of determination. She wasn’t as young as she’d first appeared, but she was still damned well naive, determination or no. She’d nearly gotten killed her first five minutes on the street. With the sheriff out of the way, and considering the kind of women they were used to, those bastards next door wouldn’t think twice about dragging her off for a little fun and games.
    “Goddamn it,” Brendan swore, feeling his resolve begin to weaken, “this isn’t my problem.”
    Priscilla spun on him in outrage. “Don’t you dare blaspheme! If you hadn’t been gambling in the first place, none of this would have happened. Mr. Hennessey would still be alive, and I’d be safely on the way to my fiancé.”
    “There’s not a damn thing safe about the country you’ll be crossing on the way to the Triple R. And I’ll damn well swear if I want to!”
    “I believe you have an appointment with the law, Mr. Trask,” she said with a haughty little tilt of her chin. “Surely the sheriff will have something to say about what happened to poor Mr. Hennessey. Thank you for your assistance, and