Native Hawk (California Legends Book 3)

by Glynnis Campbell

  When Claire tried to convince her father that the man in the bed was Chase, running her fingers through Drew’s hair and kissing his brow, Catalina made fists of her hands and choked back an outraged outburst of jealousy.

  But when the rancher casually asked if the half-breed was going to live, Catalina could bear no more of the pretense, asking how he could ask such a thing. She rushed to the bed to take Drew’s hand in reassurance. “Va tutto bene.”

  “Father, this is Chase’s…sister,” Claire said, “from Hupa.”

  Catalina didn’t protest too much at that introduction. After all, it was partially true. She was going to be Chase’s sister-in-law soon.

  What surprised Catalina was that Claire agreed to leave The Parlor and return home with her father, on the condition that he wouldn’t tell the sheriff where Chase was.

  Catalina was impressed by her cleverness. If Claire loved Chase as much as Catalina loved Drew, it was an enormous sacrifice to leave him, she knew. So when Claire murmured, “Please take care of…Chase…for me,” Catalina nodded in understanding.

  It was almost an hour after Claire and her father left that the real Chase came staggering into the room, wrapped in a sheet.

  He wanted to know where Claire was. He wasn’t happy when Catalina told him she’d returned to her ranch. But he had to agree it was a good plan, at least for the time being.

  Catalina could tell Chase truly cared about the woman he’d kidnapped. He was an intensely serious man, as one might expect in a person seeking vengeance. She sensed he was just as intensely serious about his feelings for Claire. She didn’t think he was dangerous, however, just determined, a bit overbearing, and somewhat lacking in charm.

  In other words, he was nothing like his twin.

  Catalina dipped her lace handkerchief in the basin of water again and dabbed tenderly at Drew’s brow.

  “How is he?” Chase asked.

  She wished she could tell. The doctor hadn’t been in yet this morning, and Drew had barely been conscious. She was naturally worried about him.

  Still, she supposed there was no shortage of devoted caretakers at The Parlor. Here, Drew was a hero. For Miss Hattie, he’d brought in business. For Jenny, he’d given her a new life. He’d come to the rescue of the rest of the ladies against a gunman. And for Catalina…

  “Listen, ma’am,” Chase murmured, obviously ill-at-ease. “I don’t know what my brother told you, but he’s not the marrying kind of man. I’m sure he paid you well for your services and probably enjoyed them too. But if you’re looking for him to put a ring on your finger, I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’m sorry to have to break it to you this way, but…”

  Catalina thought nothing could make her laugh this morning. But Chase’s assumption that Catalina was a prostitute and his delusions about his own brother were highly amusing.

  With a smug smile, she flashed her engagement ring at him.

  He didn’t believe her.

  Even after she finally managed to convince him the ring had indeed come from Drew, he shook his head.

  “My brother is a love-them-and-leave them kind of man.”

  Catalina frowned. He apparently couldn’t imagine that Drew was capable of change.

  Thinking she didn’t understand his English, he tried, “A rolling stone? A tumbleweed? One that doesn’t put down roots?”

  Roots? She hadn’t heard that one before.

  Chase sighed. “My brother is the kind of man who will give a woman a kiss and then vanish into the night.”

  “Oh, that he does,” she agreed with a nod. “But he always comes back in the morning.”

  The week-long ride from Hupa to Round Valley had only sharpened the edge of Sheriff Jasper Brown’s ire. He’d been so sure he’d be able to track down the half-breed who’d killed Billy before he made it this far.

  But there was no sign of the villain. The man had paid for no lodging, stolen no horses. He hadn’t even stopped at any of the saloons along the way.

  He supposed any other man would have given up. His own damn sons had started whining about turning tail and going home.

  But Jasper wasn’t about to wave the white flag. The South had made that mistake. To his mind, Lee’s men should have fought until every damn soldier lay on the battlefield, dead.

  Because the South had knuckled under, Jasper was forced to live in the world they’d left, a world full of damn Yankees, freed slaves, and uppity Injuns.

  Today, however, proved to be his lucky day. To his surprise, he got a piece of useful information from Round Valley.

  A scowling Konkow named Hintsuli came forward, identifying himself as the brother of Sakote, the Injun with the white wife Jasper had met in Hupa. He claimed his people had been marched from their homes and that their father, a great chief, had starved himself to death on the way. He went on to say their mother had been left behind, enslaved by a rancher in Paradise, and that she had died only last month.

  Jasper didn’t give a shit about the Injun’s parents. Hell, his own parents weren’t around anymore. He was interested, however, in the place Hintsuli called home. Maybe Hintsuli’s half-breed nephew had sought refuge there, in the place he was born.

  It was a long shot and another week-long ride. But at least, he thought with a grim chuckle, he didn’t have to march on foot along the route like the Injuns had. He had a horse, food, water, and a silver star.

  Chapter 27

  For Drew, two days passed as a blurry memory.

  He remembered playing the two-spirit game in the dark, getting shot, blacking out. He drifted in and out of consciousness, only to wake to the agony of a doctor rooting around under his ribs, in an exhaustive search for the bullet lodged there.

  After that, the doctor gave him something bitter to drink, and he fell into a deep sleep.

  It felt almost like the journeys he’d taken in the takiwh, sweat lodge, as a youth in Hupa. He went to the spirit world, communicated with animals, understood the world’s mysteries, spoke in strange tongues.

  Most of it was otherworldly, a figment of his drugged brain. But some of it was real, he was sure.

  He remembered his brother bending close, speaking in their native tongue and in tones of concern.

  He remembered Miss Hattie tucking covers around him.

  He remembered a distant conversation between a blonde angel and her white-haired, rifle-toting father.

  He remembered the murmurs of pity and the sweet perfume of ladies who visited him.

  And always he remembered Cat hovering near. He caught glimpses of her red-rimmed eyes, the tangled black ribbons of her hair, her rumpled scarlet dress. She stayed by his side, easing his fever, giving him sips of water and spoonfuls of soup, speaking soft and soothing Italian words into his ear like a medicine woman’s incantation.

  Suddenly one morning, he opened his eyes, clear-headed, feeling strong, and hungry as a horse. His wound still throbbed, but he could tell it was healing. Soon he’d be able to leave The Parlor.

  Somehow, he’d find a way to sneak Chase and his ladylove safely out of town. Then he’d have to figure out what to do about Catalina.

  He obviously couldn’t stay in Paradise. It wasn’t safe for him here. With Chase gone, sooner or later, someone would claim that Drew was Claire Parker’s abductor, and he’d have no way of proving he wasn’t. The only ones who even knew the twins existed were the shady ladies of The Parlor. And their word was probably worth about as much as a half-breed’s.

  So until he figured out what to do, Drew guessed his best move was to bluff.

  It wasn’t so bad pretending he was still too weak to move. The bed was comfortable, and the food was decent. Beautiful women came to his room, cooing over him and catering to his every need. Cat kept him company, feeding him, mopping his brow, doting on him as if he were a helpless child. He could hardly complain.

  But he knew for Chase, being confined to The Parlor was torture.

  His brother missed his little Calamity
Jane something fierce. Samuel Parker’s ranch might be just down the road a piece, but it probably felt like it was a world away.

  According to Chase, Claire had a fiancé who was bound and determined to regain her affections. And despite Claire’s devotion, the knowledge that someone else was out there, vying for the woman he loved, had to be gnawing at Chase and setting him off-kilter.

  His normally levelheaded brother was growing short-tempered. Helpless and frustrated, Chase snapped and snarled at everyone, reminding Drew of the mindich, bobcat, they’d found in that snare long ago. He lashed out at even those unfortunates who tried to give him a hand.

  But when he started grousing at Catalina, Drew realized it was time to goad his brother out of The Parlor and off to the Parker Ranch.

  It was a risk. Chase was now a wanted man. If anyone spotted him, he’d be reported to the sheriff and put back in jail.

  But under cover of the night, Chase could be as stealthy as a minim-millediliw, mountain lion. So if he could convince his brother that Claire was worth fighting for, maybe he’d find the happiness Drew had found with Cat.

  It wasn’t difficult. Drew tossed out a few good-natured taunts and snuggled up with his own beautiful bride-to-be to remind Chase of what he was missing. Cat convinced him it would be romantic for Chase to kidnap his bride again in the middle of the night. By nightfall, Chase still wasn’t sure what he intended or whether he was doing the right thing, but he was on his way to the ranch and his sweetheart.

  Lady Luck must have gone with him. As it turned out, Chase arrived just in the nick of time.

  Sometime after midnight, Miss Hattie started knocking on doors, waking everyone in The Parlor. She said she had something to tell them, and it couldn’t wait till morning.

  When all the ladies had gathered in Drew’s room, she told them there had been a fire at the Parker Ranch.

  Drew’s heart dropped. “My brother…”

  “Chase?” Cat reached for Drew’s hand.

  “He’s fine,” Miss Hattie assured them. “A bit smoky, but fine.” She clucked her tongue. “He’s actually a hero.”

  The ladies softly gasped. But that didn’t surprise Drew. Chase had a good heart and a strong back.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “What about his lady?” Cat breathed. “What about Claire?”

  For an instant, an almost imperceptible shudder went through Miss Hattie. Then she pursed her lips and said, “She’s sufferin’, but she’s gonna be fine.”

  The other ladies murmured in worry.

  Miss Hattie held up a hand for silence. “Claire almost…” She stopped, choking on the words. “She got caught in the fire. Thank heavens, Chase managed to pull her out in time.”

  There was a collective sigh of relief.

  But Drew wasn’t going to be satisfied until he heard the whole story. Forgetting he was supposed to be incapacitated, he pushed himself up until he was sitting upright in the bed.

  “How did the fire start?” he demanded. “Who was there?”

  While everyone listened intently, Miss Hattie related what she knew, which was sketchy.

  It appeared that Claire’s ex-fiancé had something to do with it. Once he found out that Claire had her heart set on another man—Chase Wolf—he decided if he couldn’t have Claire, no one could. He’d settle for inheriting the ranch without her help.

  “It looks like the son of a bitch might have set the barn on fire,” Miss Hattie ground out, “with Claire in it.”

  Gasps sucked all the air out of the room.

  Miss Hattie shook her head. “It was pure good luck your brother showed up in time to save her.”

  Drew exchanged a meaningful glance with Claire. If they hadn’t convinced Chase to go to the Parker Ranch when they did, Claire might be dead now.

  “What happened to her fiancé?” Cat asked. The fire of revenge burned hot in her eyes. Drew reminded himself never to get on Cat’s bad side.

  “The sheriff arrested Frank,” Miss Hattie told them. “He’ll be tried tomorrow, prob’ly hanged soon after.”

  Catalina hoped so. When she thought of sweet Claire, trapped in a burning barn, it made her feel sick.

  “Where are they now?” Drew wanted to know. “Chase and Claire?”

  “Recoverin’ at the ranch,” Miss Hattie said. “Thank goodness it was only the barn and not the main house.”

  “I have to see him,” he said, throwing off his covers. “I have to see my brother.”

  Catalina knew he wouldn’t believe Chase was safe until he saw him with his own eyes. But that was impossible.

  “You can’t,” she said, throwing the covers back on again. “You’re hurt.”

  He threw them off once more. “Not so hurt I can’t see my own brother.”

  Miss Hattie shook her head. “Even if you could, it ain’t safe. Nobody except Claire and The Parlor know there are two of you. If you’re spotted, it won’t be long before everyone in Paradise knows you’re twins. You’ll put yourself and your brother in danger of arrest all over again.”

  “We won’t be spotted.”

  Miss Hattie clucked her tongue. “One six-foot half-breed is hard enough to hide, but two?”

  Drew’s shoulders slumped. He knew she was right.

  Claire made up her mind. “I’ll go,” she offered.

  “I can’t let you do that,” Drew said. “He’s my brother.”

  “And he will soon be mine,” she argued. “I’m glad to go.”

  “But it’s the middle o’ the night, Cat. You can’t go alone.”

  “I’ll go with her,” Miss Hattie offered.

  Drew looked at them both, rubbing the back of his neck, and then nodded. “All right. Fine. Tell him…tell him our grandmother’s spirit will help Claire.” He pulled the covers back up. “And you ladies be careful out there.”

  Claire would be very careful. She wasn’t terribly afraid of the wild animals. But she’d seen enough of the wild California men to know they were a dangerous breed.

  She was no fool. After quickly dressing in her cocoa-and-cream dress and jacket, she returned to Drew’s room. As she gave him a tender kiss on the brow, she reached for the nightstand and slipped his pistol into her purse.

  Nothing could prepare Catalina for the grim sight of the Parker barn. Like the cast-off gown of some daughter of Satan, the structure slumped haphazardly in shades of burnt black and scorched gray, trimmed in shimmering coals of devilish red.

  Men still doused the timbers with buckets of water to knock down the embers. Every splash sent up a hiss, like the sound of an iron on wet cloth.

  Catalina held her sleeve across her face, wincing at the stench of smoke that permeated the air.

  When they approached the ranch house, Miss Hattie hung back. She didn’t want the presence of the town madam to stain the upstanding Parker name.

  Though this saddened Catalina, she understood. She’d felt the same way when she’d started working at The Parlor. She couldn’t have her reputation tarnished by her association with such an establishment. Yet how quickly her opinion had changed once she got to know the women there. Miss Hattie might be the proprietress of a bordello, but her heart was in the right place.

  Though Claire’s weary-eyed father, Samuel Parker, willingly let Catalina in to Claire’s bedroom, she felt like an intruder on the intimate scene.

  A candle flickered beside the bed. Chase sat beside Claire, cradling her hand. His black hair was full of ash, his eyes were bleary, and there were smudges of soot on his skin and clothing.

  “How is she?” Catalina ventured.

  Chase’s lips tightened. It was clear he didn’t want to get his hopes up. But he was also determined to do everything in his power to save the woman he loved. “She’ll live.” It sounded more like a vow than a prediction.

  Though he didn’t invite Catalina closer, she drew near, gazing down at Claire. The frail blonde woman looked even more like a child. It was clear Chase had painstakingly wa
shed her face, but charcoal dust still clung to her hair and powdered the pillow.

  Moved to pity, Catalina reached out and gently took Claire’s other hand. It felt small and limp, like one of the baby bunnies her brothers had killed.

  “Is there anything I can do?” she murmured.

  “Not much.”

  She nodded. “Oh,” she remembered, “Drew asked me to tell you that your grandmother’s spirit will help.”

  He gave her a half-smile. “You can tell him our grandmother’s spirit has already helped.”

  Catalina didn’t ask what he meant by that. She’d learned that, unlike Drew, Chase was a man of few words, most of them cryptic. So when he started talking again, half to her, half to himself, she was astonished.

  “You know, you and Drew ought to get hitched…right away.”

  She waited.

  “When something like this happens…” He swallowed. “It shows you what’s important. I was wrong, thinking I could avenge my grandmother’s death. There was nothing to avenge. All along, she was where she was supposed to be.”

  Catalina nodded.

  He shook his head. “And Claire, trying so hard to make her father happy…she never should have taken up with that no-count Frank.”

  Claire’s hand twitched in Catalina’s hand. But when Catalina looked at her, she was fast asleep, probably dreaming. Catalina hoped she wasn’t having nightmares about what had happened.

  “What I’m trying to say is…” he said, scowling. “Strike while the iron is hot.” Before she could decipher what Drew’s blacksmith brother meant, he added, “Don’t wait until it’s too late, until you almost lose…” He stopped as emotion choked him.

  Catalina’s eyes filled with tears. She knew how he felt. She’d felt that way when Drew had been shot—as if her heart had been crushed by a great fist. That first night, she would have made a deal with the devil to get rid of the pain.

  Chase loved Claire so much. Just as he’d pulled Claire from the inferno, Catalina was sure that if the worst happened, if somehow Claire was taken from him, he’d follow her into the very fires of hell and drag her back.