Carol Finch (14 page)

“Precisely.”
Pace, pace, pace.
“We were away from the judgmental eyes of society.”
Pace, pace, pace.
“And, like a tree falling in the forest where no one hears the sound, the incident
didn’t happen.
”
Pace, pace, pace.

“Interesting logic,” he said, biting back a grin. “So the moral of your story is, don’t make something of nothing?”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself.”
Pace, pace, pace.

Hawk couldn’t stand another moment of watching her stride back and forth and not stare deeply into those beguiling green eyes to determine if she meant what she said—or if it was only stubborn pride talking. Even if last night meant no more to her than an educational initiation in passion, he wasn’t leaving here until he was close enough to savor her sweet scent. He damn well planned to help himself to the goodbye kiss he had missed out on this morning.

He’d damn sure have
that,
at the very least, before he made himself scarce, he promised himself.

When Shiloh whizzed past, he hooked his arm around her trim waist and hauled her up against him. And poof! Desire slammed into him like a runaway train. Her arousing fragrance swamped him, triggering
last night’s exotic memories of gazing upon her while her exquisite body was illuminated by flickering campfire light.

Hawk couldn’t resist. He dipped his head to devour her dewy lips just one last time. The floor shifted beneath his feet. The room swam before his eyes. He crushed her to him, yearning to memorize the feel of her lush body molded intimately to his so he could call up the tantalizing sensations when missing Shiloh got to him.

Fervent need turned him rock hard immediately and ripped the breath from his lungs. He had underestimated the powerful impact Shiloh had on him. He should have had her out of his system after last night, but apparently not. Realizing what he’d been missing had only made him want her more.

Now, he couldn’t kiss her deeply enough or thoroughly enough to satisfy the ardent craving that he’d spent the whole livelong day trying to convince himself that he didn’t feel.

You are such a liar, Hawk,
came the mocking voice in his head.
You know damn well once will never be enough for a man who has allowed himself to become tempted and obsessed with this unattainable female.

His senses reeled when Shiloh wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed up on tiptoe to kiss the breath out of him. Then she arched into him, as if she belonged to him and he belonged to her for that wild, mind-shattering moment.

She turned every kissing technique he’d taught her back on him with such devastating effectiveness that his knees threatened to buckle. His brain fogged over as he devoured her mouth and clung desperately to her, as if he were about to pitch off a cliff if he didn’t keep a fierce hold on her.

For that immeasurable space of time, he didn’t try to control the roiling passion she stirred in him. And she responded enthusiastically to the fiery need that sparked between them like lightning leaping cloud to cloud in a billowing thunderstorm.

“I have to go before it’s too late,” Hawk gasped when he finally mustered the willpower to break their kiss.

“Goodbye then,” she said before she kissed him again—and he put all he had into their final embrace.

When he was forced to come up for air—or faint, whichever came first—Shiloh staggered backward. Her breath gushed out in huffing pants. Her creamy breasts heaved against the diving neckline of her bright yellow gown. Hawk battled the tempting urge to touch her as familiarly as he had once, to make use of that fancy bed before he rode out of her life forever.

He hauled in a steadying breath then retreated a step to put her safely out of his reach. “If you need anything—”

“I won’t,” she broke in, her voice as hoarse and raspy as his, her stance as unyielding and proud as his.

“Of course not. Why should you? You have your brothers to look after you.” He dipped his head slightly. “Well, then, I’d best be going.”

“Yes, that would be best,” she murmured as he strode across her room.

Hawk walked away, refusing to look back. He told himself that he wouldn’t see Shiloh again. His job didn’t allow for lasting attachments to women. He and Shiloh had made a gigantic mistake together. They’d been caught up in the emotional turmoil surrounding her ordeal with the wolf pack.

It never happened,
Hawk chanted silently as he
mounted the mustang then trotted off into the darkness.
It’s just a mystical dream, a secret I’ll carry until I’m in my grave.

Despite his attempt to discard the forbidden memories, they converged like stampeding horses.

Pretend it never happened…? Like hell he would!
He was never going to forget the taste of her, the feel of her silky skin, her alluring fragrance, because the memories burned like searing brands on his mind.

Teeth gritted, mind shutting like a steel trap, Hawk focused all thought on riding to Mills Ranch to see how many suspicious characters came and went during the night. He also wanted to know how large a population of homing pigeons came to roost in Frank Mills’s belfry.

After Hawk left the room Shiloh half collapsed on the edge of her bed then dragged in several cathartic breaths. She battled like the very devil for control, but a choked sob broke the empty silence. She had tried her best to appear detached and indifferent in Hawk’s presence. She hadn’t wanted him to know that his refusal to pay any attention to her while he was conversing with her brothers had hurt deeply.

In addition, she had accepted full responsibility for their tryst and let him off the hook so he could concentrate on his assignment. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t crying on the inside, foolishly wishing for things that could never be.

Another sob burst from her lips and Shiloh flung herself facedown on her bed to vent the frustration that had hounded her for a week. She could tell herself that she didn’t want Hawk in her life, but that didn’t stifle all the tender feelings that roiled inside her. She could
remind herself a dozen times a day that Hawk considered her an unwanted responsibility and inconvenience that hampered his investigation. But that didn’t stop her from caring for him and feeling lost without him.

Damn it, see what happens when you let yourself care too much about a man?
came that lecturing voice inside her head.
Brace up, Shiloh. He doesn’t want you. You’re better off without him. Let…him…go.

She tried. She really did. But when she dozed off that night Hawk’s taste was still on her lips and his masculine scent surrounded her like an invisible cocoon.

She’d get over him, just as surely as she’d put aside her unrequited feelings for Antoine Troudeau. It was just going to take a little longer to forget Hawk, was all, she convinced herself when she woke up alone in bed. He’d had an intense impact on her senses because they’d spent so many consecutive hours together, learning each other’s characteristics and moods. They’d survived danger and they had become intimate.

Refusing to dwell on the memories, though they were never far from her mind, Shiloh closed her eyes and begged for sleep to rescue her from her bittersweet dreams.

“Come in and sit down,” Noah requested as Shiloh breezed through the front door. “Gid and I want to talk to you.”

Shiloh rolled her eyes impatiently. She had been home for a week and her maddening but well-meaning brothers kept insisting on these little “chats” every other day.

“Make it fast.” She veered into the walnut-paneled study that sat adjacent to the dining room. “I want to
grab a quick bite of lunch before I check the cattle in the south pastures to make sure we don’t have a few more rustlers lurking about.”

“That’s the thing, Shi,” Gideon spoke up. “Our cowboys are hired to handle those tasks. We prefer that you find other activities that don’t involve the possibility of danger.”

She arched a challenging brow. “You weren’t grateful three days ago when I spotted the rustlers who were trying to make off with our cattle and I alerted our hired hands?”

Noah raked his hand through his thick brown hair and sighed audibly. “That’s not the point. You aren’t our resident scout who lurks in the trees, waiting to send off an alarm when you see rustlers in action. Things could go wrong.”

Gideon stared her down. “Noah and I think you’re on some thrill-seeking campaign that is self-destructive.”

She wasn’t about to tell her well-meaning brothers that she needed activity and excitement to pacify this insatiable sense of restlessness that followed her like her own shadow. She had been missing Hawk to such maddening extremes that she
did
go looking for trouble—anything to take her mind off him.

Gideon towered over her, his dark brows bunched over his narrowed gaze. “We don’t want to issue ultimatums to you—”

“Then don’t,” she cut in. “I can take care of myself because you saw to it that I could ride expertly and handle an assortment of weapons. I wasn’t in danger when I spotted the rustlers sorting off some of our cattle. Although I appreciate your concern, I don’t want to be stifled and smothered.”

“We aren’t trying to smother you,” Noah replied. “But you scared the bejeezus out of us when you turned up missing. We were desperate to locate you. Now you’re thumbing your nose at danger and taking daredevil risks.” He frowned pensively. “This craving for excitement is the result of your wild misadventures with that rogue Ranger, isn’t it?”

They didn’t know the half of it—and she wasn’t about to tell them. She was desperate for distractions so she wouldn’t think about Hawk the whole blessed day.

“Don’t be absurd,” she said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “I’m doing my part to protect our holdings. Because I was standing watch, we were able to retrieve our stolen cattle and you hauled the two rustlers to jail. All the better that they were the same two men who were casting suspicion on us by operating from our line shack. Hawk and Fletch can identify them, too, and they’re wanted for questioning about Archie Pearson’s death.”

Noah waved her off as he loomed over her. “We’re providing you with a more acceptable brand of excitement,” he insisted. “The annual spring fandango begins tomorrow. We’re spending the weekend in Cerrogordo to enjoy the activities.”

“You go ahead without me,” Shiloh replied. “I attended enough fashionable soirees, symphony concerts and poetry readings in New Orleans to last me for at least a year.”

“No,” Gideon said firmly. “We
are
going.
Together.
Although you deny it, I think you developed an ill-advised attachment for that Ranger. You’re hoping you might happen onto him while you’re checking cattle in the pastures.”

Is that what she’d been doing? Making herself available, wishing she and Hawk would cross paths? Shiloh inwardly groaned. Her brother was probably right.

Secretly she wanted to catch a glimpse of Hawk, because her foolish heart refused to let go of the forbidden memories they had made that night beneath a dome of twinkling stars.

“That is ridiculous.” She felt compelled to deny it. “If anything, I acquired a taste for adventure after the drudgery of social niceties in Louisiana. I told you that I have decided to be a spinster. It suits my nature and disposition to take an active role in our ranch, instead of wasting time trying to latch onto a husband I don’t want or need.”

“Nevertheless, we’re leaving for Cerrogordo tomorrow morning. Make time to pack,” Gideon said sternly. “And try to limit your daredevil rides across the countryside,
please.
No need to come up lame before Saturday night’s street dance.”

Muttering at her brothers’ decree that she was going to be dragged to the festivities, like it or not—and she didn’t—she surged across the hall. After a quick lunch, she gathered enough supplies to tide her over until dark.

Then she headed out the front door.

Her brothers stood just inside the office, arms crossed over their chests, staring at her in disapproval. But they had enough sense to keep quiet, she was happy to say.

Outside, Shiloh mounted her favorite palomino gelding and raced off. When she noticed her brothers had their noses pressed to the office window she veered toward the gate—instead of leaping over the yard fence as she had done when she arrived an hour ago. No
sense inviting another lecture, she decided. She could appease the thrill of going airborne just as easily by jumping creeks on her way south.

Hawk, where are you? Do you think of me at all?
came that silly romantic voice from the region of her heart. She heard that whispering voice three times a day at the very least.

How long would it take to convince herself that she really didn’t want that dark-haired, dark-eyed hulk of masculinity to be a part of her life? Two weeks? Two months?

Shiloh sincerely hoped that it wouldn’t take two months to get over Hawk. She’d be stark raving crazy by then.

W
hile reconnoitering the area near Drummond Ranch, Hawk saw a rider thundering downhill at breakneck speed. A wild mane of curly auburn hair flew out behind her like a banner waving in the breeze. He muttered at the daredevil female who was racing the wind. Shiloh apparently wasn’t the kind of woman who knew her place and dutifully stayed in it. Of course, Hawk had figured that out early on.

“Pretty damn tough to give up something that fascinating and free-spirited, isn’t it?”

Hawk twisted in the saddle to see his brother walk his Appaloosa gelding up beside the mustang. Even though Fletch excelled at sneaking up on people, it disturbed Hawk that he had been too preoccupied to notice.

Damn, his preoccupation with Shiloh was causing him to lose his focus and his edge—the two things that kept him alive and kicking while pursuing his risky occupation.

“How’d you find me so easily?” Hawk asked.

Fletch absently massaged his mending leg then
shrugged. “When I didn’t see you hovering around Mills Ranch I figured you were checking up on the hellion.”

“Someone needs to get that woman under control,” Hawk mumbled sourly. “Not
me,
of course, because I’m on assignment, but
somebody.
”

“Don’t know who would sign up for that hazardous duty.” Fletch watched Shiloh’s reckless flight over hill and dale. “It would take a certain kind of man to handle a woman with that much fire, sass and independence.” He glanced at his brother. “The messenger who brought your missive to the Ranger encampment claimed he was on hand when Shiloh’s brothers found the two of you. We heard all the details about how you fought like a grizzly to keep from being hanged and how Shiloh braved five armed, angry men to defend you.” Fletch smiled in amusement. “She’s exceptionally sweet on you, big brother.”

Hawk snorted. “No, it was only her fierce sense of fair play rising to my defense.”

Fletch let the silence stretch for a few moments then he said, “Something was bound to happen between the two of you. Sick as I was while in the cave, I could sense the attraction. My guess is that she’s your woman by now,” he added with brotherly candor. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Just because our grandfather was a visionary shaman doesn’t mean
you
know all and see all,” Hawk said caustically.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you and she—”

“You can shut up now,” Hawk cut in sharply. “That’s none of your business. And for your information, I haven’t seen her, except at long distance, for a week.”

Fletch chuckled. “Which has nothing to do with my prophesy, but nice try anyway, Hawk. You surely remember that I’m not easily distracted…not like
someone
I know.”

Hawk expelled an agitated breath. “I think I appreciated you more when there was a state or two separating us. Are you here in an official capacity or did you just drop by to torment me for your own sadistic pleasure?”

“Both.” Fletch grinned, undaunted. “I thought you might like to know that the two desperadoes that stole my horse and shot me are presently locked in jail at Cerrogordo, because the hellion spotted them stealing Drummond cattle and alerted the hired hands to apprehend them. I rode out here from town, after interrogating the captives who were very closemouthed about any involvement with the outlaw factions.”

The thought of Shiloh keeping surveillance worried him. He would like to rake her over live coals for…

His runaway thoughts skidded to a halt when he reminded himself that Shiloh wasn’t any of his business these days. If she wanted to become a self-appointed scout there wasn’t much he could say about it. And obviously, her brothers weren’t having any luck keeping her tucked away at home.

“Have you seen anything of that backstabbing bastard that I chased down here from Colorado?” Fletcher asked, his tone of voice no longer light and teasing.

Hawk nodded sharply. “I spotted an hombre who matched the description you gave me. He’s come and gone from Mills Ranch several times this week. Cousin or brother, I can’t say, but he seems to fit in with this bunch of ruffians that pose as ranch hands when they
don’t disappear for a day or two at a time. To raid, no doubt.”

“I have a score to settle with Grady Mills,” Fletch growled vindictively. “I’m itching to get my hands on that treacherous son of a bitch.”

“It will have to wait,” Hawk insisted. “I discovered the outlaw factions are keeping in touch by carrier pigeon. I’ve seen the birds arriving and leaving Mills Ranch, as well as the line shack that sits on the western boundary of Drummond property. As of yet, I haven’t found out where else the birds roost.”

“Very clever. When you figure that out you should have your mastermind pinpointed,” Fletch speculated.

“I expect so,” Hawk confirmed. “I’ve compiled detailed descriptions of every member in the four gangs, plus a description of their horses. We’ll have a solid court case after we make the arrests.”

“But still no conclusive link verifying a crime syndicate. Except using pigeons,” Fletch finished for him.

“There is a link. Infiltrating DeVol’s gang assured me of that.” Hawk frowned thoughtfully. “According to the Drummond brothers, they spotted one gang camped north of Cerrogordo. Another was lurking southwest of town.”

“Which might suggest that someone
in town
is passing along crucial information to target victims. Sort of like the hub surrounded by the spokes of a wheel,” Fletch said, voicing Hawk’s thoughts accurately. “If I’d known we were hunting carrier pigeons I would’ve kept my eyes trained on the sky while I was in Cerrogordo.” He snapped his fingers when a thought occurred to him. “I have an idea that might change our luck in solving this case.”

“What’s that?” Hawk’s attention shifted to the spot
where Shiloh had disappeared earlier. Damn it, he needed to keep his mind on business. Willfully, he glanced at Fletch.

“There’s going to be some sort of celebration in town, beginning tomorrow,” Fletch reported. “Something about the day Cerrogordo was founded. Damn place wouldn’t have been established at all if those palefaces hadn’t squatted on the Apacheria then demanded that the army shove us aside to appease the land-grubbing trespassers—”

Before Fletch became sidetracked by the same bitter feelings that often hounded Hawk, he waved his brother to silence. “Get back to the point, Fletch. There isn’t a damn thing we can do about our people being murdered, having their property stolen and being confined to reservations. The only satisfaction we’ll ever have is riding with the Rangers and hunting down every white outlaw and stuffing them in jail…or burying them in the cemetery if they resist arrest.”

Fletch looked at him for a long, contemplative moment. “So that’s why we do what we do? To satisfy our own need for revenge, using the white man’s interpretation of law and order?”

“That’s why
I
do it,” Hawk said. “I can’t speak for you.”

“I’ve spent years wondering why I felt compelled to save as many innocent victims from lawlessness as possible. Not that anyone but Archie Pearson was there to help us—”

“We’re getting further away from the point,” Hawk interrupted impatiently. His gaze involuntarily darted south again, wondering what Shiloh was up to.

“The fandango and feast attracts folks from all over the county. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few hell
raisers show up to celebrate. It might be the perfect chance to round up some of these desperadoes that we can identify as suspects.”

“Unless they see the festivities as the perfect opportunity to raid unattended ranches and loot stage coaches while so many folks congregate in town.”

“That’s a possibility,” Fletch agreed. “Already two men, DeVol and Stiles, by your description, held up a stage to San Antonio and killed the ex-soldier that was riding guard. At close range.”

Hawk swore. “Sounds like my departure from the gang, with the stolen money, sent DeVol on the rampage. He might have been operating independently against the stage.”

“We can alter our appearance and attend the festivities, incognito. We’ll send a message to headquarters to place patrols on the stage route and scout Mills Ranch for suspicious activity.”

Anticipation surged through Hawk. He felt as if he was finally making some headway with this case. The Rangers might be able to respond quickly to holdups while Hawk and Fletch singled out and shadowed desperadoes in town. The sooner they broke up these synchronized rings of outlaws the sooner he could vacate the vicinity. When he put some distance between himself and Shiloh he could function normally again. Then he wouldn’t be spending his time wondering what Shiloh was doing and looking for her in the distance.

“Daydreaming, Hawk?” Fletch asked, intruding into Hawk’s most private thoughts. “Why don’t you avoid the mental torture and just go look her up? I’ll ride over to Drummond Ranch to introduce myself.” Fletch grinned scampishly. “Knowing what a grand impression you made on the Drummond brothers I’m sure
they’ll fall all over themselves to offer me a night’s lodging before we ride into Cerrogordo tomorrow.”

“I have no intention of imposing on the Drummonds’ begrudging hospitality,” Hawk remarked.

“Well,
I
’m going to take advantage,” Fletch insisted. “I’ll flash my badge and hope for one night of special treatment. That’s about the only benefit a lawman has going for him. The rest of the time cutthroats are trying to blow you out of the saddle.” He stared pointedly at Hawk then reined toward the ranch.
“Go…see…her….”

Shiloh felt her pulse quicken when she spotted Hawk trotting his mustang over the grassy knoll. Blast it! It had been over a week. The sight of him still triggered a host of sensations and memories that she’d tried desperately to put behind her. It was useless, she thought defeatedly. Some men were unforgettable. Logan Hawk headed up the list.

What a crying shame that there were so many forgettable qualities about
her.
Hawk didn’t seem to have trouble keeping an emotional distance from her.

“I’ll escort you back to your house,” Hawk volunteered when he came within speaking distance.

No
hello, I missed you
or
hello, it’s nice to see you again,
Shiloh noted, disappointed. For Hawk, it was business as usual. She’d like to bean him over the head for looking and sounding so nonchalant. She’d give almost anything if she could emulate his neutral expression and bland tone of voice.

“I wasn’t planning to leave my lookout post until dark,” she said briskly. “That’s usually when thieves come calling.”

“I heard you spotted the twosome who were holed
up in your line shack and called in reinforcements. Impressive work.” He stared directly at her. “Impressive but risky. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

She shrugged him off, then directed his attention to her mending arm and ankle. “If you recall I was hurt on
your
watch, Mr. Rough-and-Ready Ranger. Seems to me that I’m faring better on my own watch.”

He scowled. “Thanks for throwing that back in my face.”

“Happy to do it,” she said, grinning impishly.

“Well, suit yourself.”

Disappointment washed over her when Hawk headed off in the direction he’d come. He was leaving. Just like that, damn him.

“Fletch and I are hoping you and your brothers won’t object to offering a night’s lodging before we ride into Cerrogordo. Sure you don’t want to ride to the ranch with me?”

Shiloh sighed, torn. She relished his companionship, but it was sheer torture to be with him and to know that he would never want her to the same intense degree that she wanted him—despite her valiant attempts to regard him as no more than a closed chapter from her past.

“If I do decide to join you, you aren’t planning to chastise me for standing watch for rustlers, are you?” she muttered as he rode off without her.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The lie rolled easily from his tongue. It occurred to Hawk that he’d gotten exceptionally good at lying to himself about his feelings for this firebrand. He was also shamefully inconsistent about vowing to keep his distance from her and then breaking his promises. Like now. Like his decision to spend the night at her home when he’d told Fletch no.

Honestly, it was wearing him out trying to mean what he said about getting out of Shiloh’s life—and staying out.

World’s biggest hypocrite is what you are,
he thought, exasperated.

“There’s a fandango in town this weekend,” Shiloh said as she eased her sleek palomino gelding up beside the mustang.

The horses sniffed each other, laid back their ears and sidestepped to put more space between them. Apparently, they weren’t going to become fast friends.

“That’s what Fletch told me earlier,” Hawk remarked. “It might be our chance to apprehend a few of the outlaws bent on having a rip-roaring time in town.”

“How is Fletch’s leg?”

“Much better,” Hawk replied. “He should be able to do some investigative legwork while we’re in town. We plan to interrogate the two desperadoes about Archie Pearson’s murder, not to mention their link to the other outlaw factions.”

“You’re welcome to ride into town with us tomorrow,” Shiloh invited, although her tone was so bland that he couldn’t tell if the prospect of his extended companionship pleased or dismayed her.

And just when had she gotten so good at hiding her emotions behind that well-disciplined mask? he wondered. There had been a time when he could read her thoughts easily enough. Now she had closed herself off the way he did….

He jerked upright and frowned at the unsettling thought that Shiloh had borrowed one of his traits. She was too lively and vibrant to bury her emotions as he did. Damn it, whatever else she might’ve learned from him during their brief but intense acquaintance
that
was the last thing he wanted her to emulate.

“Something troubling you, Hawk?” she asked perceptively.

Plenty,
but he shrugged evasively and said, “No, just thinking how good it will be if we can wrap up this case this weekend then head to the new hotbed of trouble brewing down San Antonio way.”