The Bounty Hunter and the Heiress by Carol Finch

contrary—and dangerous though he looked, and he definitely did—she knew he had a gentler side. That knowledge prevented her from being frightened of him.
    He doubled at the waist to slap his hands on the table so he could get right in her face. “Do not ever do that again,” he said with a snarl. “You nearly got yourself killed. When I tell you to get down then you get down right then and right there. Do you understand, Eva?”
    â€œNo,” she sassed him. “Maybe you could be a bit more specific about what you want me to do and when you want me to do it.”
    Her smart remark obviously took him by surprise because he stared at her as if she were a curious creature he’d never seen before. Apparently, he wasn’t accustomed to a woman talking back to him. Good, she didn’t mind being the first at something for him.
    Raven expelled his breath, shot her another annoyed look then plunked down across from her at the table. “You’re driving me crazy.”
    â€œOnly for another half hour,” she reminded him. “You’ll be gone after you have lunch. If I get my head blown off this afternoon it won’t besmirch your reputation or encroach on your time because I won’t be your concern.”
    â€œLook, Eva, the—”
    Raven swallowed whatever he intended to say when the waiter set down two plates of beans floating in the grease dripping off two slices of bacon. The corn bread was nearly burned beyond recognition.
    Eva stared at the unappetizing food. “I’ve heard that meals on the stage line leave a lot to be desired, but I’ve never eaten one. The train serves better food. Too bad you didn’t choose to ride the rails. You could have saved both of us from bushwhacking attempts.” She directed his attention to the knot on her forehead then gestured to her injured arm. “Not to mention bypassing a few bumps, sprains and bruises.”
    â€œI don’t recall inviting you to come along, dear, ” he retorted as he picked up his fork.
    Eva grimaced as she watched him scoop up a bite of bacon and beans then munch on them. Well, she thought, if he could choke down the unappealing food so could she. Unfortunately, she couldn’t hide her distaste when the foul-tasting beans landed on her tongue and tasted like poison. Because he was watching closely, waiting for her gag and make a run for the door, she swallowed with defiance and quickly chased the food with a half a glass of water.
    â€œBest food I ever had,” he declared.
    He took another bite, but she couldn’t match him forkful for forkful. Defeated, she rose to her feet and walked out.
    â€œDon’t become a live target again, sugarplum,” he called after her. “The third time might be the charm.”
    She wished she spoke the Cheyenne language so she could tell him where to go and what to do with himself when he got there—without the passengers overhearing her.
    Â 
    Raven sat there for a half hour during the lunch break, debating with himself about what to do next while Eva did whatever the hell she was doing outside. Since no one was shooting at her presently, he presumed he was the primary target and the sniper had gotten in too much of a hurry.
    He intended to leave the stagecoach and head up the mountain trail. But what to do about Eva…? She could concoct an explanation to feed to the curious passengers about where he’d gone. Or maybe she’d give up and go home where she should’ve stayed in the first place… if the story she had fed him was really the truth. He couldn’t swear it was.
    Then again, as daring as she was, she might arrive in Canyon Springs, outfit herself with a horse and supplies and travel alone to the mining camps in Devil’s Triangle to search out Gordon. Bold and determined as she was, that wouldn’t surprise him one damn bit.
    â€œAll aboard!” George slurred out as he propped