Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk (Dark Cloth) (8 page)

***

Hearing this, Hawk half sat up, wincing from the pain it cost him.
“
The hell you will.” He couldn’t think why she would say this when she knew their path. He didn’t care that this new thought contradicted everything he’d just told her about having to leave. His grip on her hand tightened.

Everything about her caused him to challenge everything he thought he knew. He’d think one thing and do another. She was making him crazy with want. She was all he thought about, night and day.

“If you don’t help me, that’s one of only two plans I have left.”

No. She couldn’t know why he must leave. And she would hate him when she knew. But in spite of that, this was their path, their destiny, and there was no other way. They would have to find a way to work through it. Why did she fight him? “He killed your pa!” He could not believe she’d even suggest it.

“Yes.”

Stubbornness made him ask, “And you’d let him touch you? The way
I touched you
?”

Mandy closed her eyes and lied, “If I have to.”

“Open your eyes, Mandy,” he commanded. “Look me in the eyes when you say that.”

Mandy sighed in defeat.

“Why do you fight us?” Hawk’s voice was gentle now. “There is more to us than killing McCandle. There is more than either of us know at this moment. You’ll have to decide something one day.” He touched her cheek. “But we will win.”

Mandy pulled back, glaring at him. “If you’re suggesting, by your use of the word
us
, we let him get away with killing my father and hand over the very ranch he murdered my father for,” she pulled farther out of his reach in anger, “I will never agree. Never!”

Hawk frowned. He’d never suggested such a thing. What was she really afraid of? But that wasn’t the thing that held his attention at the moment. It was the idea of Mandy and Ashley. “Then, you would let him touch you?” He still needed to hear her answer, in spite of himself. He couldn’t get past the idea she would let McCandle touch her.

“If that was the only way I had left to me . . . ,” she whispered.

“Say it.’

“Then, yes!” She nearly yelled. “I would do whatever it takes.”

“You’re still not saying it, Mandy,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

He saw her sigh; saw her fight to keep him from seeing her tears.

“It’s not in me to give up, Hawk. I cannot walk away and accept what he did.”

“No,” Hawk went still as a mountain lion. “I can see you cannot.”

***

Hawk slept through the evening meal and right through the night. But Doc was happy to see it. “It’s a healing, restful sleep,” he assured Mandy.

She stared out the window. The look in Hawk’s golden eyes should have warned her off, but she had ignored the warning. Why did she do that? Was she so afraid of her feelings for him, she would deliberately provoke him that way?

Doc came into the room, and seeing her, his wise, old face split into a grin. “You got more than you bargained for, didn’t you, Mandy girl?”

Mandy turned and looked at him sadly. “From the first moment I saw him, even when I was held in the grip of that murdering McKinney, I . . . .”

“Don’t give up on him, Mandy girl.” Doc took her hand. “He needs you. He just don’t know it yet. He needs your goodness. But more than that, he needs your love.”

Mandy’s head shot up in shock, her free hand going to her throat.

Doc turned away, picking up his bag. “I have to go see to the Brown’s little girl. Poor little mite,” he shook his head, “been sick all her six years. I’ll probably be back late. They always have me for dinner.” He pulled open the door. “Fight for him, Mandy. He won’t know what he’s thrown away—till it’s too late.”

Mandy didn’t hear the door shut. She was still thinking on one thing. Love. She had loved the man in her visions. She had loved him in past lives, and she loved him still. She loved a man who masqueraded as a gunfighter. And from the way he used that weapon, she knew Meg was right—he was more than dressing the part.

No! She couldn’t have fallen in love with a man who held a secret that might keep them apart forever. A gunman; a man who, even if he stayed now, would be on the next stage out of town when his job was done. Yet all the sense in the world would not change what her heart wanted. She wanted Hawk. She had known him forever—been in love with him forever. She looked down at her trembling hands in realization. It was hopeless. She was in love with a man as changing and unpredictable as a storm and he would be gone with the next wind, taking her heart with him.

***

Blinding, morning sunlight filled the room as Mandy tied the drapes back with their thick, rope ties. Hawk sat up, wincing from his sore shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Almost time for lunch.” She tried to avoid looking at him and failed. She swallowed hard when her traitorous eyes followed the dark curly hair covering a massive, chiseled chest, then dropped lower still to see only a thin sheet hiding what was beneath. Her cheeks flamed when she realized the direction of her thoughts, and her eyes flew wide when they clashed with his golden ones.

His eyes were smoky, but his lips were turned upward in a sardonic grin. One eyebrow arched in wicked amusement. “Don’t stop now.”

Mandy’s own eyes went black with anger. “You, sir, are no gentleman, even if you dress the part in that suit and put on a show.”

“I quite agree.” He grinned unabashed. “I’m a heathen, with a soul as black as the darkest night.” Suddenly, his eyes became stormy. “And speaking of—come here, Amanda,” he commanded softly.

She shook her head, almost violently, sending her dark hair flying. “Oh, no! No, I did so before and . . .” she flushed, unable to finish.

Dark eyebrows collided, giving him the look of his namesake. “Then I shall come to you.” He reached to draw back the covers as he spoke.

Mandy got a glimpse of dark curls and jumped forward. “All right! I . . . just lay back down, you’ll open your wounds.”

When she reached his side, her gaze collided with his. She was drawn down deep into their golden depths—spiraling down—drowning in their green-gold pools. Her breath caught, and she reached out to steady herself.

A warm hand, with the strength of steel and the gentleness of a soft kiss, grasped hers, and pulled her slowly into his embrace. When his lips were mere inches from hers, he asked in a husky voice, “What were your visions of?”

Mandy took a deep breath and tried to still her thundering heart. Unfair. Hawk didn’t follow any of the rules. He might be dangerous to his enemy, but if she had any of the sense her papa bestowed her with, she’d run as far, and as fast, as she could for he was far more dangerous to her.

“I—I think you know,” she whispered.

He arched his hawk-like brows at her. “I do, but I want to hear you say it.”

“No,” Mandy pulled back. “A man with your manners doesn’t deserve confessions.” She swallowed hard, realizing what she’d just revealed.

Hawk pounced on that one. “Confessions?” He grinned as if he were a man with a juicy morsel, his hot gaze searching for the rest.

Mandy groaned and scrambled out of his grasp. She helped him as he struggled to put some pillows behind him, careful to stay out of his reach. Biting her lip, she prayed for the right words. Finally she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, “This town is owned by McCandle, Hawk. I have nowhere else to turn. By your own words, you will follow the path set before us, but when it’s done, you will leave me alone. I will have no choice. My ranch hands are good, but they’re not fools. And there’s not a man outside my ranch who would even consider going up against McCandle without the backing of a good gunman and the power to follow him. If you turn away from me, I will take the only path left to me. I will not let him win!”

She saw the barely leashed fury simmering in his golden gaze and the ridged planes in his body.

“Just because you have the upper hand on me doesn’t mean you own me. Remember, by your own words, you will leave me.” Her eyes narrowed. She turned away, then, said over her shoulder, “Now, my ranch hands will be waiting when you’re ready.”

Hawk correctly read the warning, neatly veiled, beneath her words. He chose to ignore it, irritating her further. “Why are your hands not afraid of McCandle?”

“They’ve been with my papa for years. They think of me as their daughter.”

Hawk nodded. After a moment, he asked, “Would that be Jason McCandle?”

“Yes. You know him?”

Hawk’s nod was curt. “All right, I’ll go by your rules,” he grinned, “under one condition.”

Wide-eyed, Mandy nodded. “Wh-what condition?”

“That you never ask me why I was after McCandle,” he bit out. Mandy’s eyes narrowed on him. She bit her lip, wondering at this new development. She wanted to ask him already. How could she agree to such an ultimatum? Yet how could she not? Hawk wanted revenge as badly as she did, that much was obvious. It’s why he’d come here after McKinney. But why? She would agree for now, but the burning need for answers was too much a part of her not to be sated.

“All right.” She nodded. “I agree to your terms.”

Hawk grinned. “Like hell you do.” He pierced her to the spot with his golden gaze. “It will drive you insane. But know this, Mandy. This is the one thing your busy little mind will leave alone. The only reason I brought it up is because, sooner or later, you’re going to want to ask why. And I want it clear. Don’t even try to get those particular answers, Mandy. Don’t be hunting for my past, and don’t try to understand that side of me. It would only get you hurt.” His gaze narrowed. “Understood?”

“Yes,” she answered in a breathy whisper.

“No. You don’t. But you will.”

Chapter Eight

S
purs a-jangling, a tall, dark stranger stopped at the saloon and set his Winchester on the smooth mahogany surface of the bar top. “Whiskey,” was all he said, and he did not raise his head or acknowledge the bartender when he said it

The bartender opened his mouth to object to the rifle, but when his eyes met the steely gaze of the stranger, the words stuck in his throat. He poured the drink instead. “That’ll be two bits, Mister,” he managed to get out.

The stranger slapped a coin on the bar top, then tossed back his whiskey. His lips pulled back. “Seen a man named Hawk hereabouts?” he asked after a moment.

“Friend of yours?” the bartender countered. People around here didn’t cotton to questions, especially McCandle.

The stranger’s gray eyes narrowed to dark slits.

The bartender swallowed. This man didn’t abide by anyone’s rules. “He’s laid up at the doc’s on down the street.”

The stranger’s face remained emotionless but, if it was possible, his eyes got deadlier. “Laid up?”

The bartender felt sorry for McCandle. Hawk on his own was a formidable enemy. But up against these two, he didn’t stand a chance. “Did I say laid up?” He made to clean up an imaginary spot. “He’s up and around now.”

The stranger reached up and tipped the brim of his hat. “Much obliged.” He picked up his Winchester and strode out the door, spurs ringing out in the deadly quiet.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

A cowboy sneered at him, picking up his own whiskey. “You might be when McCandle gets wind of this.”

The barkeeper gave him a hard look. “Get out of my sight.” He tossed down his towel. “I’ve got someone to see.”

***

When Mandy answered the door in mid-afternoon, it was to meet the deadliest man she’d yet seen in the west, standing on her front step. Her heart leaped into her throat when she realized his presence could only mean one thing.

He was after Hawk.

She tried to stop him. But he pushed by her. “Hawk!” she yelled.

He looked in the first room. Finding nothing, he went bounding up the stairs, Mandy right behind him. He located Hawk’s room in the next moment, his huge, imposing frame in the door, blocking her way.

At least he wasn’t shooting. Finally, he moved inside, and she was able to slip by.

Hawk let his Colt slip back in his holster with a scowl.

“One-up on you, old man,” the stranger said.

Hawk growled, then grinned. “Actually, thanks to Mandy’s warning, I was one-up on you,” he retorted.

Mandy looked at Hawk, then the stranger. They’d lost their minds.

“Mandy,” Hawk gestured at the man, “this is Jake.”

That’s all Hawk told her, just Jake. It was Mandy’s turn to scowl.

Hawk cocked one of those damnable eyebrows at her. “And this is Mandy,” he said with meaning.

Jake’s gaze had been intent on Hawk. Now he surveyed Mandy with new interest. “Ma’am.” He tipped his hat.

“Who the hell are you?” Mandy shot at him. “And what do you think you’re doing, barging in here like that?”

Hawk grinned.

Jake frowned, his eyes narrowing.

Mandy swallowed. “I mean, you don’t go barging into Doc’s without even waiting to be invited in.” Then, she turned. “Gentlemen, I’ll get you some coffee.”