Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (117 page)

Blast! How could her father do this to her? It was like he was taking their side, throwing her to the wolves.

An odd, but not unpleasant, sensation on her wrist interrupted her thoughts. Looking down her arm, she realized Hawke still held her wrist and was idly stroking the inside of it with his thumb. The light tickling was sending tingles of pleasure up her arm. The slow circling of his thumb on her skin mesmerized her. She couldn’t take her eyes off the darker skin of his thumb on the paler skin of the inside of her wrist. Moments passed before she realized her father had quit talking and was watching them. Yanking her arm from Hawke’s grasp, she leveled what she hoped was a withering glare at him.

“I might have to nursemaid you all over the ranch, but … but don’t ever touch me again.”

Kara saw a glint of challenge in his smoky silver gaze just before Hawke turned calmly to her father. “Sir, it will be my pleasure to have Miss Kara escort and mentor us. I’m certain there are many things she can show me that I am very anxious to see and learn.”

Alec choked on his drink behind them.

Turning, Hawke locked gazes with her. “When shall we get started? I’m eager to learn every inch of the ranch.”

Her eyes widened at the obvious innuendo. Speechless, she stalked out of the room.

• • •

Supper was quiet with Kara studiously avoiding looking at or talking to Hawke while he seemed unable to stop looking at her. Even while she talked to Alec and her father, she could feel the heat of his silver eyes. It made her flushed and edgy. She could still feel his touch. She was afraid to look at him, and be drawn into those smoky depths.

Excusing herself, she went and sat on her bed, absently running her hand over her wrist. Just thinking about the feel of his hand and the heat in his eyes set her mind reeling and warmth racing through her body. Lightly touching her lips, she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. Tiny shivers of desire raced along her skin and heat pooled low in her belly. Lord, this man was trouble, and she wasn’t sure if it was trouble she wanted to avoid.

She went out onto the balcony hoping the cool night breeze would calm her rattled nerves. Gazing into the darkening sky, the last traces of daylight streaked in pinks and oranges and mauves, she took a deep cleansing breath feeling an inner calm steal over her. She would try to do what her father asked, hoping she could curb the attraction and panic she felt.

• • •

Case had also retired for the night, leaving the two men alone in the study.

“Might I inquire,” Alec swirled the amber colored scotch in his glass, “just what in the hell you were doing with Mr. Jonston’s daughter earlier. God, man, I could have sworn you were going to seduce her in front of her father.” Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a cigar. “Are you looking to get leg-shackled to the chit? Keep it up, and her father will have to either shoot you, or make you his son-in-law. What has gotten into you?”

“Just seeing how tough our Miss Kara is,” Hawke replied casually. “The look on her face when she thought her father would actually let me spank her was worth it.”

The thought of her standing so close to him in the study, the softness of her skin and the attraction she tried to hide, sent desire slamming through him.

“Sorry, lad.” Alec dismissed Hawke’s glib answer, lighting the cigar. “It might have started that way, but I know what I saw. I’ve never seen you apologize for your behavior around an innocent young lady before. I don’t think you’ve ever had to. I know Case was taking a long, hard look at you.”

Alec’s words brought his thoughts back to the moment. “What do you mean? Was he angry?”

“No, actually, I’d say amused,” Alec replied dryly. “I’d also say he was contemplating some way to get the two of you together. It would certainly make it easier for him, if, say, you and his daughter were to marry. All tied up in a neat little package. Wouldn’t have to worry about the future of his ranch or his daughter.”

“I seriously doubt that, Alec.” Hawke scoffed at the notion. “He’s not some society Mama looking to make a grand match. This is America, remember, titles have no meaning. Besides, I believe he and the Robertses are hoping Kara and Austin will marry.”

The thought of Austin Roberts holding her, having the right to touch her, disturbed him more than it should. The idea of any man touching her had him clenching his jaw. Where was this jealousy coming from? Why this woman, this prickly, fiercely independent — and totally fascinating — woman?

Deciding he’d spent entirely too much time thinking about emotions he didn’t want to understand, and didn’t know how to control, he turned his thoughts to his main reason for being here.

Sitting back in his chair, he looked at Alec. “I think we need to concentrate on finding out where Tompkins is. I’ll try to see if anyone here might have information while I learn about the ranch. I want you to go into the town and see what you can find out. The detective said he would send any information he had to the telegraph office in White Oaks. Tompkins won’t get away from me this time.” His anger rose at the thought of the bastard.

“Sure this isn’t just your way of being alone with Kara?” Alec teased. “I admit she’s a beauty, but she’s a little too independent for my liking. Too much trouble, especially parading around in that mannish getup of hers.”

“I don’t know.” Hawke grinned remembering how her “mannish” attire nicely hugged her backside. “I wouldn’t say I’ve ever seen a man look quite like that in trousers.” He looked up, wondering what she was doing. “It does present interesting possibilities, doesn’t it?”

Chapter 11

Alec left for White Oaks in the morning, while Kara, still upset about her father’s edict, rode to the branding pens with Hawke.

The mountains in the distance seemed to float above the horizon, insubstantial in the golden light of early morning.

“This is a beautiful land. You must feel extremely privileged to live here.”

Kara could hear the reverence in his voice, and it touched her. “I don’t know if I could ever be happy anywhere else.”

Looking at the man next to her, she saw how the glow of the morning sun highlighted the golden glints in his hair. She wondered if he could be happy somewhere like this, a place so different from what she imagined his home to be. “This land is beautiful, but it can be a hard master, cruel and unforgiving. You can learn to live with it, but you can never tame it.”

• • •

Hawke studied her profile, thinking the same of her. He didn’t think anyone could tame the spirit in this woman, and who would want to? Although they were engaged in a battle of wills over his partnership, he knew he would never want to harm the independence that was the very essence of her being. He could see her love of the land, and how the freedoms of being raised out here had shaped her. She was wild and untamed like the land she loved so much. The more time he spent with her, the greater his admiration grew. Watching her as they rode, he was struck again by her beauty. There was determination and strength in the set of her jaw. His gaze lingered on her lips. Full, tinted a delicate rose, they invited a man to taste, to see if they were as sweet as they looked. Watching her he understood; she was like this land, she wouldn’t be tamed, but in the hands of the right man, he was sure she could be gentled.

“We’re here,” she said, pointing to the pens in front of them. Hawke looked toward the pens.

The corral bars, weathered by the sun and carved by the wind, looked too fragile for the job of holding cattle. Beyond the bars, Hawke saw the dust stirred by the milling herd of cows glimmer in the golden morning light. The sounds of cowboys calling to each other, mingled with the bellows of the mother cows and the higher-pitched call of the calves, had a rhythm and melody all its own, different but not unpleasant.

“They’ve brought in the animals.” Kara nodded towards the fire on the outside of the fence. “And now they’re having something to eat before they get to work branding and doctoring. I don’t know how familiar you are with the way we work cattle out here, so if you have any questions … .”

“I have read some on the techniques used by ranchers, and I am sure I will be bedeviling you for explanations,” he said, smiling as they stopped their horses at the fence.

Dismounting, he noticed the men went first to a large water barrel with their tin cups, drinking deeply from there before going over to the battered coffee pot on the fire.

He recognized Luis, Eddie, Darcy, and Joe from his arrival at the train station. There were several other men sitting on logs, eating. He watched Kara walk over to the fire, reach down, grab a thick pad and pick up the pot and pour a cup of hot coffee. Holding the steaming cup between her hands, she started talking to Darcy and Joe about the work so far. He watched as they discussed the work planned for the day. The cowboys didn’t seem to see her as a woman. In this place she was seen not as small and incapable, but as an equal. She commanded the area with the same confidence and grace he had seen from women in the fashionable salons of London.

Catching his eye, she nodded towards the fire. “Too bad we ate already. Luis makes a mean batch of griddle cakes and steak. Smells so good I could almost eat again.”

Inhaling deeply, he noted the scents of wood-smoke, coffee, horses, and dust. Another fragrance, more subtle, assailed his senses, delicate, floral, and feminine. The allure pulled him. Looking at the woman across from him, he was struck by how at ease and happy she appeared. Here in a place no woman he had ever known in his life would want to be.

Turning, he watched the cowboys around him. They were spare men, lean but not weak. Like the wood of the corral, they had been honed by the elements, tempered by hard lives until they adapted to this world. They ate efficiently, silently, as men used to eating outside do. These men, like the soldiers he had served with, ate the food with relish, finishing the meal almost as soon as it had been cooked.

“Well, I do think I’ll try some of Luis’ steak and griddle cakes.” He laughed patting his stomach as it grumbled with hunger. “I have rather a lot of extra room and can hold more food than most.”

• • •

Kara couldn’t help but laugh at the lopsided grin on his face, watching him step forward to help himself to a large steak and a pile of griddlecakes. She knew he was working hard to make her like him.

He was right, she thought, admiring the height and breadth of him. He certainly did have a lot of space. Smiling at the way he intently watched everything around him, she could see his name suited him. Nothing seemed to get by those intense, probing silver eyes.

He towered over most of the cowboys who were making room for him on the log near the fire. Their eyes met over the fire, a shared moment of easy smiles. Turning to talk to one of the other cowboys, she didn’t miss that intense silver gaze lock on her.

She walked around the fire to sit next to him. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Just thinking how you’d look amongst the glittering ballrooms of London.”

She tilted her head quizzically at the statement, his tender gaze creeping past her defenses.

“Why ever would you have such a thought? Do you think I don’t know what it’s like? I have been in the ballrooms in Virginia, and while I will admit I do love to dance and wear beautiful gowns, after a while it becomes deadly dull. The same people, the same gossip, I swear they’re worse than a flock of sheep and I don’t enjoy having to kowtow to the matrons, or their flabby sons,” she snorted, “who feel some sense of entitlement not because of what they do with their hands, but just because of their name.”

“I understand completely. It is surprising, however, to hear it from a young lady. I thought women lived for the social whirl.” His eyes sparkled with laughter at the rude noise she made.

“Not me. I’d rather dance to the music I hear out here.”

“Kara!” Joe yelled from the pen. “You gonna’ dawdle all day, or you gonna’ put yer seat in that saddle and get to work.”

Kara blinked, the spell broken. From the corner of her eye, she saw Hawke lower his hand. She saw the warmth in his eyes and wondered if he would have touched her if they had not been interrupted, and what she would have done if he had.

“I believe Joe mentioned something about your seat in a saddle.” His voice broke through her musings. Trying to regain her composure as she stood, irritated at how hard it was, Kara straightened her shoulders and walked over to her horse.

“And a lovely seat it is.”

She whirled around. It had been said so softly she wasn’t sure she had heard it. A wicked grin was on his face. She knew he was teasing with her, still trying to get past her defenses. Struggling between irritation, embarrassment and the urge to laugh, she was speechless at his audacity.

“You … ooh … ” She huffed, not knowing quite how to react, then waved her hand dismissively at him. “Just go over to the fence and watch. Maybe you’ll learn something … tenderfoot.”

Hawke laughed, sketched a bow, and sauntered over to the pen.

Tightening her girth strap, she tugged hard enough to bring a grunt from Gally, who swung his head around to see what she was doing to him. “Sorry, buddy,” she patted him on the neck, gathered the reins, put her foot in the stirrup, grasped the saddle horn, pulled herself up, and headed for the pen, vowing to forget about those laughing silver eyes and the heat they caused.

• • •

Hawke leaned his forearms on the top rail, resting one foot on the lower rail, and watched the work in the pen. The rhythm of the men reminded him of a well-drilled military unit. The calves bunched in a corner of the pen, tails twitching and stirring the dust with their nervous movements, as a cowboy, on his small wiry stock horse, waded into the group. A loop of his rope dangled motionless from his hands. Spotting the calf he wanted, the rope came over his head, he gave it two or three quick twists of his wrist, and then with a flick it snaked out over the calf’s head, dropping around his neck. He pulled the calf, bucking and fighting, from the bunch. As they neared the branding fire, two more men approached the calf on foot, flipped the animal on its side and proceeded to work. The right ear was marked with the Ladder J single slant cut. One of the men quickly castrated the calf with a sharp knife, tossing the testicles into the fire where they sizzled and popped in the orange coals. Still holding the calf down another man pulled the glowing iron from the fire and put the Ladder J cattle brand on the animals’ side. The calf was released. Standing on shaky legs the calf trotted off shaking its head, bawling, looking for its mother. Hawke watched as Joe marked the information about the calf and its mother in a ledger.