Nightway (27 page)

“I don’t expect him to show me around the whole ranch,” Lanna clarified her suggestion. “I didn’t realize how huge it was until Hawk pointed out the boundaries when we flew in. All I had in mind was a tour of the ranch yard and the immediate vicinity. I could snoop around on my own, but I don’t feel right doing that. But if Chad’s busy, maybe I can ask somebody else.”

“Dad would take you, but he said something yesterday about going into town today on business of some sort. Hawk could show you around. He knows every inch of this place like the back of his hand,” Carol stated.

“Yes, well … “—Lanna breathed in deeply, finding that suggestion not at all pleasing—” … I’d rather not go anywhere with him.”

Her reply sparked Carol’s temper. “I never thought you were the kind who would be prejudiced. Obviously, I was wrong!”

“Prejudiced? I’m not prejudiced,” Lanna denied. “I just don’t happen to like Hawk. He … he rubs me the wrong way.” Confusion surfaced over the cause of the accusation. “Why should I be prejudiced?”

“A lot of people look down on him because he’s half-Navaho. I don’t know why I thought you would be different.” Carol continued to eye Lanna with wary doubt.

“I didn’t know he was half-Indian. I never even suspected it.” She leaned back in her chair, running the information over in her mind to see if it bothered her; instead, it started her wondering about other things. “Is that why Chad doesn’t like him?”

When she looked up, Carol was staring at her. “You honestly don’t know who Hawk is, do you? Didn’t J. B. ever mention anything about him?”

“John? No. Why should he?” Lanna was becoming more and more confused.

“Because Hawk is his son.”

“Are you serious?” It was Lanna’s turn to search the face of the woman seated across the table. She looked away, realizing it was true and wondering why Hawk—or Chad—hadn’t told her.

“Yes. Hawk’s mother was a Navaho woman. She was J. B.’s mistress for several years. I was just a small child at the time, so I don’t know the details, only what I’ve heard.” Carol became thoughtful, her attention turning inward. “Hawk’s mother died—in a snowstorm, I think. Anyway, J. B. didn’t want to leave Hawk with her relatives to be raised as an Indian, so he brought
him back to the ranch. Naturally, he had too much respect for Katheryn to ask her to raise him.”

“Didn’t she know about him?” Lanna questioned.

“Oh, yes.” Carol nodded. “From what I understand, it was common knowledge that J. B. was keeping this Navaho woman. The ranch is like a very small town. Everybody knows everybody else’s business. I doubt that J. B. ever actually told Katheryn himself. I’m certain he tried to be discreet. That’s the kind of man he was, but she knew. No one ever talked about Hawk in front of her that I can remember. They always pretended he was an orphan. So did she.”

“But who looked after him? Did someone take him into their home?” She steered the conversation back to Carol’s original track.

“J. B. asked my parents to look after him. J. B. and my father were very close, so naturally he turned to him. Hawk lived with us. We were raised practically as brother and sister.”

“What happened between Hawk and Chad?” Lanna frowned. “There seems to be so much bad feeling between them.”

“It’s natural under the circumstances. Look at how much Chad had. He was recognized as J. B.’s son. He never publicly acknowledged Hawk. Granted, J. B. did compensate my parents for what it cost to raise Hawk. And he paid for his college education. But that isn’t much, is it?” Her smile was sadly rueful. “There was the fact that Hawk was not only illegitimate, but a half-breed, as well. Even if J. B. Faulkner was his father, his mother was still a Navaho.”

“I can understand that there would be rivalry—resentment—but such total mistrust…” From what Carol had told her, there didn’t seem to be sufficient cause, and it puzzled Lanna. “It goes beyond blind hatred. I can’t help thinking there is a reason.”

“There is,” Carol sighed and pushed aside her plate of half-eaten food. “It’s me.”

“You?” Lanna wanted more of an explanation than that.

“Yes. Remember, I told you that Hawk and I were raised together. He was always ’big brother’ and I was ’little sister’—at least that’s the way I thought. Then, the summer when I was eighteen, I found out that Hawk wanted to marry me. He was in love with me.” Carol paused to cup her hands around a cold cup of coffee. “Chad was always my ’knight in shining armor.’ There was never anyone else I wanted to marry.”

“And you turned Hawk down?”

“Yes. He didn’t understand. He blamed Chad. There was a terrible fight. Chad beat him up, which only made things worse.” Carol’s bow-shaped lips were set in a straight line, grim with regret. “I tried to tell Hawk how sorry I was, but he wouldn’t listen. I think he believes that I didn’t want to marry him because he was a half-breed—therefore, not good enough.”

“So he feels he’s been cheated all the way around. Now I’m part of it,” Lanna realized. “I suppose I inherited what rightfully should have been his. Did John leave him anything in his will? Did he acknowledge him at all?” She couldn’t believe that John had left Hawk out.

“J. B. gave him half of this ranch. As far as I know, J. B. didn’t claim him as his illegitimate son. There was a cash bequest, too, but I don’t know what the amount was.” Carol held her gaze. “Lanna, I have to be honest. I think Hawk had more right to the rest of the inheritance than you did.”

“Yes.” Lanna was inclined to agree with Carol, but she didn’t know what she could do about it. Was it her fault? Was it her problem to correct? Heaven knew she never wanted John to leave her all this money. Why
had he willed it to her instead of his own flesh and blood? If John didn’t want Hawk to receive it, should she go against his wishes and give it to Hawk?

It was confusing. She simply didn’t know what was right or fair. Too much had happened lately. She was tired, both mentally and physically. Chad had suggested that she come to the ranch to rest and relax. This was only her first full day, and already she felt worse instead of better.

She took a sip of her coffee. “It’s cold,” she grimaced and rose from her chair to pour a fresh cup. “Would you like yours warmed up, Carol?”

“No, thanks,” she refused and pushed her chair away from the table. “I started a letter to Johnny yesterday. I want to finish it so I can get it in the mail.” She started toward the door, then paused to half-turn. “Lanna, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings when I said that.”

“You didn’t,” Lanna assured her.

“Good, because I’d like us to be friends.” Carol smiled.

“So would I,” Lanna agreed.

“See you later.” She lifted a delicately boned hand in a graceful wave and disappeared through the archway.

After adding hot coffee to the lukewarm liquid in her cup, Lanna returned to her chair. Halfheartedly, she buttered the muffin, but by now her appetite was gone. A set of footsteps approached the morning room. Lanna recognized Chad’s brisk strides and looked up as he entered.

“Good morning. I just saw Carol. She told me you were here,” he stated and walked to the sideboard to pour himself a cup of coffee from the silver urn. “I decided to join you for coffee.”

“Have you finished your paperwork?” she asked.

“The bulk of it.” He pulled out the chair nearest her and sat down. His tawny eyes assessed her in a glance.
“Didn’t you sleep well last night? You look tired. Beautiful, but tired.”

“Flatterer,” Lanna mocked him. “Actually, I slept like a log. I can’t remember the last time I slept so late.” Yes, she could—that morning after John had died, but she didn’t mention it. If Chad remembered, he didn’t correct her.

“You obviously needed it.” He sipped at his coffee, then glanced at the muffin Lanna had barely nibbled. “Is that all you’re having for breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry.” Not any more, at least, she thought. “I should exercise to work up an appetite.”

“You’re supposed to rest while you’re here,” Chad reminded her.

“That will become boring,” she insisted with a laugh.

“After a while it will, but I want you to take it easy for the first few days.”

“You sound like a doctor,” Lanna reproved. “As a matter of fact, I was going to ask you to take me on a tour of the ranch.”

“What for?” His wide smile seemed to regard her proposal with amused curiosity.

“Just to get an idea of what’s going on.” She shrugged. “I thought it would be interesting to see how it operates.”

“This ranch practically runs by itself. Rawlins has managed it for years. It’s all very routine, very boring. I don’t think it would interest you.” He set his cup down, an air of finality in his action, as well as in his words.

“I don’t know that I was really interested. Closer to curious, probably,” Lanna replied. “I thought I’d like to poke around the buildings and explore the country around here. I haven’t been horseback riding in a couple of years. It should be fun.”

“I suppose we could do that,” Chad agreed. “I can have one of the hands saddle us a couple of horses. We can leave right after lunch. How does that sound?”

“It sounds fine.” She nodded.

“You aren’t very enthusiastic.” Tipping his head to one side, he eyed her curiously. “Is something bothering you?” he guessed. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Hesitating, Lanna gripped the sides of her coffee cup. “I know Hawk is John’s son.”

“His bastard, you mean,” Chad snapped and immediately looked away, seeking to control his sudden flash of anger. “Sorry, but that’s what he is—by name and disposition.” When he turned to face her, his smile was stiff. “Now that you’ve discovered the Faulkner family’s skeleton in the closet, what difference does it make?”

“It makes a lot of difference,” Lanna declared in agitation. “He is … was John’s son. I inherited what was rightfully his.”

“Rightfully? What makes you think it was
rightfully
his?” he challenged. “What would a half-breed do with all that? John knew what he was doing when he left it to you. Hawk is nothing but a saddle tramp. J. B. threw away his money trying to turn that half-breed into a white man. There isn’t an ounce of ambition in his body. He works a little, goes back ’to the blanket’ for a while, then comes back to work a little more. He’s a worthless no-good who doesn’t deserve what he’s got.”

It seemed a sweeping condemnation. “He appears to be intelligent—” Lanna began.

“Intelligent? He’s educated. J. B. paid for that—enrolled him in the finest eastern university, and what happens? Hawk quit before he gets his degree and all
that money goes down the drain. Is that intelligent?” Chad arched an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know.”

“Don’t feel sorry for him, Lanna. You’d just be wasting your time,” he told her. “J. B. would have set him up in business, but all Hawk wanted to own was the clothes on his back, a good saddle, and a Navaho convertible—more commonly known as a pickup.”

“I see,” Lanna murmured.

“I hope you do,” Chad stated. His handsome features softened, charming her with the magic of his smile. “Would you still like to go riding this afternoon? I promise not to give you any more lectures.”

“I would enjoy it.” She returned his smile. “But I don’t want to be guilty of monopolizing your time, so why don’t we invite Carol to come along—and your mother?”

“So you want me to share the pleasure of your company,” he joked, but he wasn’t really joking. Her pulse quickened a little with the temptation to say no.

Only she didn’t. “That’s right.” Lanna forced the brightness to stay in her voice.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll ask them,” Chad agreed without enthusiasm. He finished his coffee and stood up to leave. “I have a couple of phone calls to make. I’ll see you at lunch, if not before.” As he passed her chair, he paused long enough to lay a hand on her shoulder, then left the room.

Lanna was glad he hadn’t argued about inviting the others because he could have talked her into letting the ride remain a twosome. That was the problem. He could talk her into most anything, she realized. Was she being too trusting? How did she know if what Chad said was true?

“Damn you, Hawk, for putting these questions in my mind,” she murmured aloud.

That evening Lanna was acutely aware of every minute she had spent in the saddle during her afternoon ride with the Faulkner family. It had been an exhilarating experience, filled with laughter and gaiety and the excitement of new sights. But her muscles, unaccustomed to such exercise, ached at the slightest move she made.

Not even the soothing Brahms melody Katheryn was playing on the piano made Lanna forget her soreness. When the last note faded into the silence of the living room, Lanna forced her protesting muscles to make her stand. Her action drew Chad’s gaze.

“I think I’m going to take a couple of aspirins, soak in a tub for an hour, and then fall into bed.” Her attempt to laugh at her condition was forced.

“Can you make it to your room?” Chad teased. “Maybe I should help you.”

“I’ll manage,” Lanna assured him dryly.

“We shouldn’t have ridden so long. I hope you feel better in the morning,” Carol offered.

“I will. Good night.” It was meant for all of them. There was a responding chorus. Katheryn’s fingers were already gliding over the piano keys with the opening chords of another piece as Lanna left the room.

Once in her room, Lanna didn’t waste any time filling the tub with steaming-hot water and adding scented oil. Shedding her clothes, she climbed into the tub and stretched out full length to rest her shoulders against the curved porcelain back of the tub. The liquid heat flowing over, under, and around every inch of her body sent relief surging through her cramped and
aching muscles. She closed her eyes in utter contentment and let the bath water wash the soreness away.

The water had turned cool before she summoned enough energy to lather her skin with soap and then rinse. When she stepped from the tub, the quick evaporation of water chilled her. Lanna rubbed at the shivers with a heavy bath towel, its roughness stimulating the return of warmth.

Slipping into the full-length robe of silver satin, Lanna entered her large bedroom. The bath had isolated her soreness, confining it to a few places instead of her whole body. She felt refreshed, not nearly as bone-weary as she had earlier. The softness of the bed didn’t look quite as inviting, but neither did she feel like getting dressed and rejoining the others in the living room.