Bobbi Smith (3 page)

Randi glanced back again, only to discover the warrior had drawn even closer. Desperate, she veered off to the right. She hoped to thwart her pursuer with evasive action, but to no avail.

In that very instant, he was upon her.

As their horses raced on side by side, the warrior reached out and snared Randi about the waist.

“Help!” she cried out in fright as he dragged her out of her saddle.

Her captor ignored her cry and crushed her to him, her back pinned against the side of his hard, powerful chest.

“Angel!” Randi watched in horror as her horse, her only hope of salvation, galloped away.

Randi was desperate to break free of her captor. She fought him with all her might. His strength proved overpowering, though. She was trapped and helpless.

Hawk struggled mightily to control Bruiser and to keep a firm hold on the youth at the same time. He’d expected to be thanked for saving him from his runaway horse, not attacked, but the boy was furiously fighting him. Hawk shifted his grip on the youth, hoping to still his resistance, and it was then that a shock of pure physical awareness jolted through him.

Suddenly Hawk realized—this was no boy he’d rescued.

This was a woman!

He was stunned.

“Hold still!” he ordered harshly. He tightened his hold on her even more now to ensure she was protected. He didn’t want her to fall and be hurt.

Randi was stunned, too, when she heard her captor’s angry command. It surprised her that the warrior could speak English, but she wasn’t about to give up her fight for her freedom. She’d heard stories of what happened to Comanche captives, and she was determined to escape him and the terrible fate he no doubt had planned for her.

She struggled even harder, but to no avail. His strength was as unyielding as iron.

The depth of her fear and panic grew even more.

“I said hold still!” Hawk snarled as he finally managed to bring Bruiser to a halt. He only wished this wildcat of a woman were as easy to control as his horse.

“No! Let me go!” she shouted.

Irritated by her frantic struggles when all he’d been trying to do was help, Hawk decided it was time to oblige her.

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled.

Yes, ma’am?
Her captor’s response shocked and confused Randi. No warrior would ever talk that way. . . .

And then he released her.

Stunned by her sudden freedom, Randi gasped as she awkwardly half slid, half fell to ground. In her descent she lost her hat, freeing her hair from its simple binding to tumble about her shoulders in wild disarray. It took her only a second to regain her footing, and when she did, she drew her gun and spun around, bringing her weapon to bear on this stranger who’d dared to accost her.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Randi demanded. She glared up at him, startled to find that her first impression had been right—this man definitely looked like a warrior. His skin was bronzed by the sun, and there was no doubt of his Comanche heritage in his high cheekbones and dark good looks. But then confusion set in. Although she’d believed him to be a warrior, she realized now that his hair was cut shorter than that of any Comanche she’d ever seen, and he was wearing denim pants and boots and a gun belt.

“Easy, there,” Hawk said quickly, surprised and more than a little impressed by her aggressive behavior. He kept his hands away from his gun, and he made no sudden moves. He didn’t want to give her any reason to start shooting. “I didn’t mean you any harm.”

“You could have fooled me!” Randi charged angrily, trying to hide her confusion. This man was not at all what he’d seemed. “What do you want?”

Hawk stared down at the blond beauty standing so defiantly before him. How he’d ever mistaken her for a boy, he didn’t know, but then, he’d never seen a female wearing men’s pants before. Hawk had no idea who she was, but he already knew she was a wild one, and certainly not a woman to be taken lightly, judging from her expert handling of her sidearm.

“My name’s Morgan, Hawk Morgan.”

“Yeah. So?” Randi wasn’t about to let her guard down just because he’d introduced himself. She kept her gun on him.

“And I was rescuing you,” he finished.

“Rescuing me? From what?” Randi was outraged that he’d thought she’d needed help. “I didn’t need any rescuing!”

“It sure looked like it to me,” he drawled.

“Well, you were wrong.” She still refused to admit, even to herself, that he might have been trying to help her. Slowly, she lowered her gun. “Angel and I were chasing the phantom, and we were doing just fine. I was going to catch up with him until you came riding out of nowhere and ruined everything!”

“The phantom?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing. Never mind.”

“Well, I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll just be on my way.” Hawk turned Bruiser around, ready to ride away. He wasn’t really going to leave her there, stranded. He fully intended to go after her mount and bring it back to her.

Randi had no idea who this Hawk Morgan was, but she honestly believed he was coldhearted enough to just ride off and leave her on foot.

Not that she didn’t deserve it. After all, she had pulled her gun on him. But it would be one really long walk back to the house.

She looked down at the gun she still had in hand.

“Wait a minute!” she called out.

Hawk reined in and looked back to see her holstering her sidearm. “What?”

“You can’t just ride off and leave me here!” she declared.

“I can’t?” He couldn’t help grinning at the look on her face. He could tell it really annoyed her to have to ask him for help. “I thought you didn’t need rescuing?”

It irritated Randi to no end that he was mocking her, but she had no choice. She grabbed up her hat and jammed it back on her head. “Well, now I do.”

“Then it’ll be my pleasure to help you.”

Hawk rode back to her side and offered her a hand up.

Randi took his proffered hand and swung up easily behind him. “My name’s Randi Stockton, by the way, and this is my family’s ranch, the Lazy S.”

Hawk had been wondering who she was, and now he had his answer. “Nice to meet you, Randi Stockton. I take it you’re related to Jack Stockton.”

“He’s my father. Why? Do you know him?”

“No, I was just on my way out to speak with him when I saw you.”

“Do you always ride after people like that?”

“I thought you were on a runaway. Sorry about the mixup. It won’t happen again.”

“It had better not.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll know better next time.”

“Good,” she said with some satisfaction.

“Besides—if there ever was a next time, you probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me,” he said wryly.

Randi’s tension finally started to ease, and she managed a grin.

“You’re right,” she said.

“Let’s go find your horse.”

“Thanks.”

“Hold on,” Hawk instructed.

Randi linked her arms around his lean waist. She tried not to notice how broad and muscular his shoulders were as they rode off in search of the runaway Angel.

“Who was this phantom you were chasing?” Hawk asked, now that they were on speaking terms. He was worried that the phantom was an outlaw or someone he should be on the lookout for.

“The phantom’s not a person. It’s a stallion.” She started to tell him the story.

“I remember hearing about that legend,” he remarked. “But that was some years ago.”

“The tale has been around for quite a while.”

“How do you know this is the same stallion?”

“That’s what’s so fascinating about it. We can’t be sure, but whoever finally catches him will find out the truth.”

“If anyone ever does catch him.” Hawk was skeptical. He knew how elusive wild stallions could be. The horse hadn’t earned the reputation as a phantom for nothing.

“I’m going to get him. You just wait and see,” Randi declared with certainty.

“But the legend says only the finest warrior can catch him, and you’re not a warrior,” he pointed out simply.

“I’ve been known to put up a pretty good fight,” she countered.

“That’s true.” He chuckled.

“I’ve been trying to find the phantom for more than six years now, and today was the closest I’ve ever gotten. Angel is fast. If any horse is going to catch him, it would be her.” She paused, realizing his horse had run her down. She added, slightly annoyed at having to give him any credit, “Or maybe yours.”

Hawk nodded. “Bruiser’s fast. Keep an eye out while I’m tracking Angel; maybe you’ll spot your phantom again.”

“The way he runs, he’s probably in another county by now.”

Hawk carefully followed Angel’s trail. As they rode along, he found himself looking for an additional set of tracks, but the stallion proved true to his name. He was a phantom. He’d disappeared. There were no tracks but Angel’s.

When Hawk finally spotted Angel in the distance, he reined in. He did not want to risk scaring off the runaway.

“There she is,” Hawk announced.

“You’re a good tracker,” Randi said, impressed.

“I’ve had a lot of practice. Will you need any help with her?” he offered.

“Sometimes she can be skittish, but I should be all right.” Randi slipped down from behind him.

“I’ll wait back here, just in case.”

“Thanks.”

Hawk recognized a good piece of horseflesh when he saw it, and Angel was one beautiful palomino. He was impressed, too, by the way Randi walked slowly toward the frightened mount, talking in low tones and making no quick moves. It was obvious she knew how to handle her horse as well as her gun.

Randi made her way to Angel’s side, then slowly reached out to grab her reins.

“Good girl,” she murmured soothingly.

She took the time to stroke the mare’s neck and reassure her. It had been a frightening experience for both of them. She was relieved Angel didn’t try to shy away from her, but her relief was shortlived. She quickly discovered Angel had thrown a shoe and injured her leg. Her fetlock was swollen, and she was bleeding from a cut.

Hawk had kept his distance, but when he noticed Randi checking the palomino’s leg, he rode closer.

“Is she hurt?” he asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

Hawk dismounted and went to take a look at Angel’s injury.

“It doesn’t look too serious,” he told Randi after he’d examined the gash. “But we’d better walk her back, just to make sure.”

“All right.” Randi hated the thought that Angel had been hurt because of her.

“It might be good, too, if we took her down to the creek and let her stand in the water. She should soak that leg for a while before we head for the house. That should help keep the swelling down. While we’re there, I can get my shirt and hat.”

“I wondered what happened to your clothes,” she remarked, trying not to stare at the broad, tanned expanse of his powerfully muscled chest.

“I’d just stopped to rest and cool off at the creek when I saw you riding past.”

“That explains it.”

She climbed up behind Hawk again, and they started off at a slow, steady pace, leading Angel.

Randi was getting worried. When she’d ridden out earlier that morning, she’d told her father she was going for a short ride and wouldn’t be gone very long. Now that they had to walk Angel back, it was going to take them quite a while to get home. Knowing her father as she did, she was sure he was going to be worrying about her. She knew there was nothing she could do about it, but she hoped he didn’t get so worried that he came out looking for her. She was embarrassed enough as it was.

“I understand the Lazy S is one of the biggest ranches in the area,” Hawk commented, breaking the silence between them.

“That’s right. It’s my father’s pride and joy. He’s worked hard for a lot of years to make it a success.”

“Looks like he’s done a fine job.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

“So do you work on the ranch with him?”

“Oh, yes. I went away to school for a while, but I couldn’t wait to get back home. This is where I belong,” she said with conviction. “How about you? Where are you from?”

“I was working up in Dry Springs.”

“Who was it who told you about the Lazy S?”

“A friend of mine there named Spiller,” Hawk answered. “He knows your father and said he was hiring on.” Hawk didn’t say anything more about what the lawman had told him concerning rustling. If he got the job, it would be up to her father to tell her the reason he had been hired.

“Welcome to the Lazy S.”

Hawk couldn’t help smiling to himself. “Judging from the way things just got started, it looks like working here might be a real adventure.”

“That was a bit of excitement,” Randi agreed.

“For both of us,” he finished.

Hawk fought to ignore Randi’s nearness as she rode double behind him. The feel of her arms linked around his waist and the light press of her body against his left no doubt of her femininity, and he wondered again how he’d ever mistaken her for a boy. He forced himself to concentrate on their conversation as she told him more about the ranch.

“Any sign of Randi yet?” Jack Stockton demanded of his ranch hands as he joined them in the stable.

“We ain’t seen her,” Rob Harris answered.

“No one has since she rode out this morning,” Wade Mason, the ranch foreman, added.

Jack swore under his breath in frustration and concern. This wasn’t like Randi—it wasn’t like Randi at all. “Saddle up. We’re going out to look for her.”

Rob and Wade did as the boss ordered. Soon they were ready to ride.

“Which way did she head out?” Jack asked.

“North, toward the creek,” Wade answered.

Jack nodded tersely. “Let’s go.”

When Hawk and Randi reached the creek, they quickly dismounted. Randi turned Angel over to Hawk’s care. He led the mare to the center of the shallow stream and stood with her, letting the cool water work its magic on her injured leg.

“How long does she need to stay in there?” Randi asked, concerned about her horse, but also anxious about letting her father know she was all right.

“The longer, the better.”

Randi left Hawk to tend to Angel and went in search of his shirt and hat. She found them on the bank farther downstream.