Scoundrel for Hire (Velvet Lies, Book 1) by Adrienne deWolfe Page A

Fiona from his view.
    "Fred!" she shouted ominously.
    He cleared his throat. "Fee, honey, good news," he called in placating tones. "You've got a visitor. It's Rafe."
    "Rafe?" Her angry vibrato immediately steadied, lowering in pitch to a martyr-like groan. "God has answered a dying woman's prayers. Come in, my boy, come in."
    Rafe bolstered himself against another breaker of guilt and, pushing past Fred, parted the curtain. Through the settling dust, he spied Fiona on a narrow cot, her nightcap askew and her cheeks pasty white against the backdrop of yellowed linens. She managed to look weak and pitiful, despite the fact that only moments earlier she'd been yelling at the top of her lungs and hurling shoes.
    Then he noticed many of her vases were overturned on the floor. Spilled water and petals mixed with clumps of red, green, and blue stage makeup, toppled containers, and the broken pieces of glass from the hapless powder jar. Beneath her window, an auburn braid had been happily chewed, while on top of Fred's trunk, a second, straw-colored hairpiece had been trampled by tiny, rouge-stained paws.
    Tavy had been busy.
    Narrowing his focus, Rafe tracked his pet's webbed prints—in all their various colors—around her circular path of destruction. After a moment, he spied a trail that cut straight across the wagon, making a bee-line for Fiona's bed. He knelt and raised the quilt.
    There, trembling in the back of her cage, was his four-month-old otter pup.
    With her tail tucked between her legs, her ears squeezed shut, and her snout pressed contritely to her forepaws, Tavy looked the very picture of misery. Rafe suspected that things had been pretty bad between Fiona and Tavy if his pet had voluntarily placed herself behind bars.
    "Come here, Tavy," he crooned, stretching out his hand.
    The otter baby gave a chirp of relief. Scrambling past her prison's open door, she threw herself at his feet and wrapped her length around his ankle. He could feel her body quivering through his boot leather.
    Fred chuckled. "Well now, you see? Fee and Tavy are getting along much better than they were this morning, aren't you, Fee?"
    Fiona muttered something about "stinkin' rodents." Tavy blinked big wounded eyes at Rafe as if to say, "Grandma's being mean to me."
    "I'm sorry she was such a bother," Rafe said, prying his pet's paws free so he could lift her into his arms. "Otters are supposed to be tidy, like cats."
    "Well, they're not," Fiona grumbled, giving Tavy a look that, if she'd had nine lives, would instantly have snuffed out five or six.
    "Aw, the little tyke's just curious," Fred said magnanimously, patting Tavy's head. "Once she starts learning tricks, she'll be too busy keeping the kiddies entertained to ransack any wagons. Why, I figure she could work for peanuts, kind of like one of those circus monkeys—"
    "Otters don't eat peanuts," Rafe said pleasantly, disguising his irritation, "and the only trick Tavy is going to learn is how to swim. We've got a one-way ticket to the high country, where there'll be plenty of otters to help me teach her how. In fact, we're leaving Leadville in the morning. Say good-night, Tavy."
    Fred snorted. "You expect me to believe you'd rather teach some orphaned otter how to survive in the wild than hump the richest, unattached female in the state? Hell, lad, what's the matter with you? You can lie better than that. I taught you how."
    Rafe flashed a well-rehearsed grin. "Who says I didn't already satisfy Miss Nichols?"
    Fred eyed him speculatively.
    "So that's it with the heiress?" Fiona demanded. "No fancy dispensation? No souvenir for your poor, sick Fee?"
    "I didn't steal her hairbrush, if that's what you mean."
    "Here now," Fred growled, "you watch that tongue of yours. You're talking to a dying woman."
    Fiona wheezed.
    Rafe fidgeted, averting his eyes to Tavy. She gazed adoringly back at him. She was always glad to see him, whether he brought her trinkets or not. She never made him feel like