Holding Out for a Hero Read online

  “Don’t damn me, Jenny,” Rico said.

  “Leaving you now is damnation enough.” He turned her to face him, the earnestness in his eyes a compelling supplication for understanding. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than remain with you. But I have to finish something I’ve sworn to do. Then I’ll be back; I promise you. We have had some unfinished business, and there’s too much between us to let it go unanswered.”

  “Yes, there is. But apparently your pursuit of Slatter is more important,” Jenny said with finality. She raised a hand and covered his, sliding it to her lips. Then she pressed a kiss into his palm.

  Rico drew Jenny against him. Slipping her arms around his neck, she parted her lips as their mouths found a fit. The kiss was as hungry as it was persuasive. Intended to say good-bye, it deepened instead into an intoxicating escalation of passion.

  Breathlessness finally forced an end to the kiss, wrenching them back to the reality of time and place their fervor had ignored. For the briefest of seconds her startled stare met the astonishment in his. Neither had anticipated the emotional—as well as physical—depth the kiss would generate. Her quivering breath met the rhythm of his, and for that interminable minute their hearts beat as one.

  “I’ll be back, Jenny. What’s between us is not going to end now.”

  ONE NIGHT WITH A SWEET-TALKING MAN

  “A warmhearted love story filled with biting repartee, charming characters, and the love of family…a feel-good book.”

  —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  HIS BOOTS UNDER HER BED

  “Leave it to Leigh…. She’s taken one stubborn woman, one sexy man, and a hidden gold mine and set them down in the Wild West—a surefire hit.”

  —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  “His Boots Under Her Bed is an emotional and fun book! A plethora of additional secondary characters provide lots of laughter and genuine emotion to the story.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  THE LAWMAN SAID “I DO”

  “Winning….”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Quirky characters and witty dialogue fill the pages of this entertaining novel…. This will appeal to many audiences, from fans of the Old West, to readers who enjoy a good romance, to those who like books rich in humor.”

  —Booklist (starred review)

  “Filled with funny moments and moments of poignancy….”

  —Romantic Times (4 stars)

  “An enchanting Americana tale that…fans will cherish.”

  —The Best Reviews

  THE FRASERS: CLAY

  “[Ana Leigh’s] strong characters and their biting repartee and tender emotions touch readers’ hearts, while the hardships of western travel are brilliantly portrayed in this tender, exciting western.”

  —Romantic Times (4½ stars)

  “Delightful repartee and scenes of comic relief abound…. The pacing moves along nicely and allows the readers to laugh and cry as the plot progresses to an especially heartwarming ending that leaves one anticipating the sequel…. Pick up a copy…and join in an historical adventure of grand proportions.”

  —Romance Reviews Today

  “This intriguing western romance stars two fine protagonists [who] struggle not to fall in love while the reader chuckles at their failure…. A fine tale.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “A great story. Leigh has a way of immersing her readers so completely in the story that they feel like members of the wagon train.”

  —Rendezvous

  Also by Ana Leigh

  One Night with a Sweet-talking Man

  His Boots Under Her Bed

  The Lawman Said “I Do”

  The Frasers: Clay

  Pocket Books

  A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2009 by Anna Baier

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4391-6342-9

  ISBN-10: 1-4391-6342-1

  Visit us on the Web:

  http://www.SimonandSchuster.com

  I dedicate this book to Don and the celebration of our

  fifty-sixth wedding anniversary this May.

  “—and if God choose,

  I shall but love thee better after death.”

  HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO

  Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  Epilogue

  1

  Arizona

  1874

  As Rico Fraser stuffed extra boxes of cartridges into his saddlebags, he studied Captain Don Masters and the two women who were engaged in conversation nearby. He felt a heated tug at his groin as he focused on the young woman dressed in a yellow gown. A wide-brim white hat restrained the auburn hair that hung past her shoulders, and against the austere background of the fort she looked like a brilliant statue.

  A sudden breeze grabbed her hat and sent it soaring, and he smiled as the lilt of her laughter carried to his ears. The sound brought to mind the pleasing tinkle of the vesper chime at the mission where he grew up. Then the warmth in his velvety brown eyes faded, clouded by the memory of his last visit to the mission: the death of Father Chavez, his beloved uncle. He lowered his gaze and tied the strings of his saddlebags.

  Masters scurried after the hat as it fluttered along the ground and lodged against Rico’s legs. Rico bent down and recovered the hat before it could take flight again, then smacked it across his thigh a couple of times to get rid of the dust.

  Grinning, he handed it to the captain. “Best tie it down, Captain, or she’ll lose it for sure.”

  The officer laughed and the men shook hands as the two women joined them. “Rico, these lovely ladies are Miss Andrea Burke and her niece, Miss Jennifer Burke.”

  Rico doffed his hat. “My pleasure, ladies.”

  “Rico is our civilian scout,” Masters said.

  Andrea Burke smiled graciously. “How do you do, Mr. Fraser. Were you raised in this area?”

  Rico returned the friendly smile of the pleasant-looking blond woman. “No, ma’am. I was raised in California.”

  He swung his gaze to the younger woman, meeting her green-eyed stare. My God, she’s gorgeous. She acknowledged the introduction with a nod but said nothing.

  “Where are you off to, Rico?” Masters asked.

  “Colonel Hardy’s sending me out to find Private Hanson.”

  “Is the poor soul lost?” Andrea asked.

  Masters shook his head. “No, Andrea, Private Hanson abandoned his post and deserted.”

  “So you’re going out to track him down and bring him back for punishment, I suppose.” The reprimand had come from Jennifer Burke.

  Rico t
urned his head and encountered her look of disapproval. “I suppose so, ma’am.”

  “But why? You’re not army, Mr. Fraser.”

  “That’s what I’m paid to do, Miss Burke.”

  Their stares remained locked: hers emerald with disgust, his guarded in reflection.

  Masters spoke up quickly. “Jenny, if a man deserts his post, it can start an epidemic among the others. We can’t let that happen.”

  Ignoring the captain’s explanation, Jennifer said, “So in truth, Mr. Fraser, you’re nothing better than a bounty hunter.”

  The hostile look in her eyes challenged him to refute it. “I wouldn’t say that, ma’am. I’m much better at the task than most of them.” Rico tipped a finger to his hat. His smirk was a subtle teasing. “Pleasure meeting you ladies.”

  He nodded to Masters, mounted his horse, and rode away. He didn’t look back, but he could feel her green-eyed stare boring into his back right between his shoulder blades.

  “Well, Mr. Fraser put you in your place, Jenny,” Andrea said.

  “Rude and arrogant, isn’t he?”

  Andrea shook her head. “Honey, I’d say you were the rude one.”

  Jenny shrugged. “I suppose so, but I can’t blame anyone for wanting to get away from this place. I dream of the day I’m old enough to do so without my father sending a bounty hunter after me to bring me back.”

  “Jennifer Burke, you know that isn’t so. Mr. Miles was not a bounty hunter, he was a Pinkerton detective.”

  “In my eyes, that’s no different. He was being paid by my father to bring me back against my will, wasn’t he?”

  “You were only eighteen years old, Jenny. I don’t blame your father; I was as concerned for your welfare as he was.”

  “I was only trying to find a job to earn the money to go to college. If my father was that concerned about my welfare, why wouldn’t he give me the money to do so?”

  “Dear, I’m sure Don’s not interested in listening to us air our dirty laundry,”

  Jenny blushed. “Forgive me, Don. It’s impolite of me. But even if Mr. Fraser isn’t a bounty hunter, he still appeared to be very arrogant.”

  “Perhaps with good cause,” Don Masters said. “Colonel Hardy claims Rico’s the best scout he’s ever known.”

  Andrea’s eyes glowed with admiration. “Well, he’s certainly the best-looking one I’ve ever seen. Tall, handsome, and did you notice his gorgeous brown eyes, Jenny?”

  How could I not? They were warm enough to melt an iceberg, Jenny reflected. “I didn’t notice. But I did notice his complexion looked too olive to be Indian, and he was taller and more broad-shouldered than any of the Mexicans I’ve seen.”

  Andrea was too wise to swallow her niece’s act. Amused, she said, “You noticed all that, but not those brown eyes. Or that dark hair, I suppose.”

  “His mother was Spanish,” Don Masters said. “He speaks the language fluently.”

  “The name Fraser doesn’t sound Spanish,” Andrea remarked.

  “If I remember, Rico said his father was a Virginian who came west shortly after the gold rush.” Don clutched a hand dramatically to his heart. “But I’m crushed, Andrea. I had hopes you’d prefer a man with light hair.”

  Andrea blushed. “And I do. Especially men in the army. Blond hair is so handsome with their blue uniforms. I’m simply looking out for my niece’s prospects.”

  “Your niece can look out for her own prospects, Aunt Andrea,” Jenny scoffed. “And it won’t be an arrogant bounty hunter.” Her gaze swung to where Rico Fraser was just riding out of the gate. Then she opened her parasol and strolled casually away.

  Rico dismounted and hunched down to examine the spoor. The hot sun had dried practically all the moisture out of the horse manure, but it sure hadn’t diminished the odor. He stood up and stretched the tired muscles of his tall frame.

  “This is where he stopped before crossing, Bucep. He can’t be more than a few hours ahead of us.”

  As if to respond, the black stallion flicked its tail.

  Rico’s gaze swept the distant mesas and canyons of the mountain range, and he shook his head. “The damn fool’s riding straight into the Apache stronghold, Bucep, and I’m a bigger fool for following him. But I need the money, and I’m too close on Hanson’s heels to stop now.”

  Remounting, he worked his way down to the riverbank, then reined up when he found what he was looking for in the moist silt: the hoofprints of a horse.

  “Looks like this is where he crossed.” He patted the horse’s neck. “A cool swim should make us both feel better.”

  His gaze once again swept the mountainous terrain, laden with ponderosa pine, juniper, and piñon. Rays of bright sunlight transformed the rocky ridges and crags into ever-changing colors. Cinnamon became red, red became orange, and orange became gold.

  “It sure is a might pretty sight, Bucep, isn’t it?” He goaded the horse into the water.

  An hour later, driven by the rumble of distant thunder, dark clouds drifted across the sky, shrouding it in gray. Large drops started to splatter down and Rico pulled a poncho from his saddlebag. If the downpour forced Hanson to halt, this might be the break he was looking for.

  Within minutes the rain became a torrent, making the granite slopes slippery and treacherous. At nightfall he finally pulled up. He’d get an early start in the morning.

  Rico stretched out under the protection of an overhanging ledge, confident that by this time tomorrow he’d be headed back to the fort with Private Hanson. As he chewed on a piece of jerky, he thought about the green eyes of the feisty gal in the yellow dress and how the bright colors matched her spirit.

  The next morning, circling buzzards led him to his quarry—whom the Apaches had reached sooner. A dozen arrows protruded from Hanson’s slumped body bound to a tree.

  Rico shook his head sadly as he cut off the arrows. “Looks like they used the poor fool for target practice, Bucep.” After wrapping the body in a blanket, he tied it to the back of his saddle. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Bone-tired, Rico arrived at the fort two days later and faced an angry Colonel Hardy across a desk.

  “I’m not paying for any damn blanket you bloodied up. Why in hell didn’t you just bury him instead of toting him back here?” Hardy took several puffs from his cigar, then rolled it expertly back to the corner of his mouth.

  “You told me to bring him back, sir. Nothing was said about dead or alive.”

  “The man deserted his post and stole a horse belonging to the United States Army,” Hardy declared. “I wish you’d brought the horse back, instead. I’ve got no sympathy for a man who deserts his post in hostile territory.”

  “At least he’ll have a decent burial now.”

  “Just the same, I ought to cut this figure in half,” Hardy grumbled as he signed the voucher. “Turn this in to Sergeant Levens to get your money.”

  When Rico got up to leave, Hardy said, “I haven’t dismissed you.”

  “I’ll remind you again that I don’t take orders from you, Colonel Hardy. I’m a civilian scout, not part of your army. And as soon as I cash in this voucher, I’ll no longer even be that.”

  Hardy broke into laughter. “Civilian or not, everyone within the walls of this fort takes orders from me, and you damn well know it. But that’s what I like about you, Rico. That doesn’t intimidate you.” He grinned and picked up his cigar case and offered one to Rico.

  “Sit down, son, and relax.” He leaned across his desk and lit Rico’s cigar, then opened a bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.

  “We’re going to miss you, Rico. You’re the best at what you do.”

  “Thank you, sir. But I think Jake Bedford will do just as good a job for you.”

  “So where are you headed?”

  “I’m going back to California for a short visit with my family. But first, since I’ve only had about eight hours of sleep in the past four days, I’m going to spend fi
ve bucks of this fifty I just earned and soak the trail dust off me, eat the largest steak Maude Evans can dredge up, and then sleep the clock around. Then it’s good-bye to Fort Redemption.”

  Rico swallowed the shot, which hit his empty stomach with a stinging punch. He stood up and set the glass on the desk. “Thanks for the whiskey and smoke, sir.”

  After cashing in the voucher, Rico led his horse to the stable. “I bet you’re as tired as I am, aren’t you, Bucep?” he murmured as he rubbed down the horse. After feeding and watering him, he put the horse in a clean stall. “Have a good rest, pal. You’ve earned it.”

  He went to the town bathhouse located outside of the gates, and it was all he could do to stay awake as he soaked in a hot tub. Too sleepy to shave, he headed back toward his quarters in the fort and encountered Andrea and Jennifer Burke.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “What a pleasant surprise. Good afternoon, Mr. Fraser,” Andrea said. Jennifer nodded.

  “What brings you to town?”

  “Actually, we’re just on the verge of leaving,” Andrea said.

  “Andrea, will you come here for a moment?” a man called from a nearby carriage. Rico recognized him as Frank Burke.

  “Excuse me.” Andrea hurried over to him.