Taming Blackhawk

by Barbara Mccauley

  “Tom and Marty can handle the mustangs without me,” he said evenly.

  “I’ll put some coffee on,” she said, surprised that her voice sounded so steady. “You’re going to need a thermos if you’re driving half the night.”

  She started past him, but he put his hand on her arm. “Grace—”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say it, Rand. I’ll be all right.”

  His hand tightened on her arm, and for a moment she thought that he might pull her to him and kiss her. But the sound of her brother’s voice had him stepping away.

  They walked back to the camp together, and while he loaded his horses she made strong coffee, hoping the extra caffeine would help him stay alert on the long drive across the Texas flatlands at night.

  Tom and Marty shook his hand when he was all packed up and ready to go. When he turned to her, she offered her hand to him, as well, though she desperately wanted to throw herself in his arms and give him a kiss goodbye that he’d never forget. Their eyes met for a second, then he let go of her hand and turned away.

  She watched numbly as he got in his truck, then started the engine and slowly drove away, his tires crunching over the rocks and debris.

  And then he stopped.

  He jerked open the door of his truck and walked back toward her. His dark gaze was on her every step of the way.

  Her heart pounding, she watched as he marched up to her and stopped.

  “Come with me.”

  That was all he said. Come with me.

  She knew he just meant to Wolf River. For now that would have to be enough.

  She nodded.

  Grace saw the relief in Rand’s eyes before he turned again and walked back to his truck to wait for her.

  “Grace.” Tom frowned. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I’ll be home in a couple of days,” she said, releasing the breath she’d been holding. “I’ll explain everything then.”

  Grace kissed her brother and said goodbye to Marty, then grabbed her bag and walked to Rand’s truck. She got in and put her seat belt on, then stared straight ahead.

  Neither one of them spoke.

  In twenty minutes they were back on the highway and headed for Wolf River.

  Nine

  Rand woke early to the feel of cool, cotton sheets and warm, bare skin. Grace lay beside him in the hotel bed, her long, lovely back turned to him. He rose on one elbow and let his gaze travel slowly over her, the rise of her hip under the sheet, the sexy curve of her shoulder, her delicate, swan-like neck. All those glorious auburn curls fanning across the pillow she currently had her face half-buried in.

  He picked one of those curls up and rubbed it between his fingers. Her hair was soft and had a silky quality to it. Without thinking, he brushed the curl against his lips, then frowned at the silly sentiment of it.

  Damn, but he was getting soft. Since when did he think about swans and silk?

  Must have been about the same time he’d completely lost his sanity and asked Grace to come to Wolf River with him.

  He still wasn’t certain how it had happened. One minute he’d been driving away, the next thing he knew he was saying, “Come with me.”

  If he’d have given it time, thought it through, he never would have brought her with him. She had her own life to go back to, her own world. A world he didn’t belong in any more than she belonged in his. He had told himself that what had happened between them on the mountain and in the canyon would stay there, that he could leave all that, and her, behind him when it was time to go.

  He’d been wrong.

  Some strange, unexplainable force had brought them together. He simply accepted that without question, took each day as it came. He had feelings for Grace, as unfamiliar as they were confusing, but he had no delusions about tomorrow or the day after that. He might have lived his life on the edge, but when women were involved, he’d always been careful. And he’d always been honest. No pretense of marriage or babies or happily ever after.

  He’d be careful now, too, he told himself. So maybe Grace had gotten to him. Maybe he was a little soft on her. So what? It didn’t mean a damn thing. He’d wanted her to come to Wolf River with him. Wanted her to be with him for a little while longer.

  He watched her stretch, then roll to her back. The sheet slipped down, hovered precariously at the peak of her breasts.

  Blood shot straight from his brain downward as he stared at her. His pulse pounded in his head.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t stop himself from wanting her. When the time came, he would stop, he told himself. He would leave.

  But the time was definitely not now.

  She stretched again, and the sheet slipped lower. The pounding in his head increased, as did the ache in his loins. Her skin was pale and smooth, her rosy-tipped breasts full and firm.

  He closed his eyes on a silent oath, swore that he’d let her sleep. Lord knew she needed it.

  They’d rolled into town sometime around two in the morning and checked into a large, classy-looking hotel called the Four Winds that also had the facilities to care for his horses. Rand himself would have settled for The Silver Saddle Inn they’d passed on the outside of town, but Grace deserved something better than a hard mattress and lumpy pillow in a run-down motel. Grace deserved fluffy down pillows, smooth, satin sheets and room service.

  And so many other things that he couldn’t give her, too, he thought.

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned her emerald-green gaze on him. Something shifted in his chest, swelled, then settled back down again.

  Smiling, she pulled the sheet up and rolled to her side to face him. “Good morning.”

  “Mornin’.” He grinned at her, tugged the sheet back down again. “I was enjoying the view.”

  Her cheeks turned pink, and she rolled to her stomach. “Show’s over, mister.”

  “Hardly.” He skimmed his hand down the curve of her back, taking the sheet with him as he exposed bare skin. When his hand cupped her bottom and squeezed, he watched her eyes darken with desire.

  “You’re insatiable,” she murmured breathlessly.

  “Complaining?” His hand slid lower, over the backs of her thighs. “Just tell me to stop, and I will.”

  She closed her eyes and stretched as if she were a cat. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

  Chuckling, he explored the soft curves of her long legs and firm, round bottom. She moaned when he skimmed his fingertips along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, sucked in a breath when he slipped one finger inside the moist heat of her body.

  His own breathing was labored, his heart racing, but Rand forced himself to take it slow. They’d made love last night after they’d tumbled, exhausted, into the bed. But from the first time they’d made love by the fire that night, every time for them had been hurried, the need urgent and desperate. He wanted this time to be different.

  Slow, he thought. He wanted this time to be slow.

  He bent and pressed his lips to her shoulder, nibbled, then used his teeth to pleasure. He felt her shiver and squirm underneath him, but when she started to roll over, he slid his leg over the lower half of her body and held her pressed to the mattress. He kissed her neck, tasting, savoring every inch of smooth, soft skin, used his teeth on every sensitive spot, until she was writhing underneath him.

  “Shh,” he whispered as he gently bit the lobe of her ear, then slid his tongue inside.

  Grace fisted the pillow under her face and buried the sound of her moan in the soft down. What Rand was doing to her was the most erotic, exquisite thing she’d ever experienced. His mouth and lips on her shoulders and neck were driving her mad. And his teeth—she gasped as he nipped lower, scraping and tenderly biting her shoulder blades. He lingered in one especially sensitive area and gave that spot his complete attention.

  He was clearly taking his time.

  “Rand, please,” she begged him.

  He straddled her, pressed her deeper int
o the soft mattress as he slid one hand all the way up her back until his hand fisted in her hair. Her entire body throbbed with raw, sharp need. He moved his free hand over her back and shoulders, and the feel of his rough palm and fingertips on her nerve-wakened skin had her struggling for breath. She couldn’t move with him on top of her, yet that didn’t frighten her, it only excited her all the more. She belonged to him, she thought. Completely.

  With his hand still intertwined in her hair, he bent and kissed her neck again, then slid his free hand under her body to cup her breast. He found her nipple and rubbed the hardened tip between his thumb and forefinger. Intense pleasure shot from that spot to the already aching place between her legs.

  She felt the hard length of him pressed against her bottom and thought she might go crazy with wanting him inside her. She moved against him, pleaded, but he barely seemed to notice her anxiety.

  She swore at him, but still he took his time.

  And then his hand slipped lower, from her breast, down her stomach, then slid lower, to the vee of her legs. When he slid his finger over the aching, throbbing nub of her womanhood, she cried out and arched her body upward. He stroked her, fueled the already out-of-control fire in her body, until she was sobbing his name.

  He said something, though her mind couldn’t comprehend what it was, then suddenly she was on her back and he was inside her. She reared up and met him, brought him deeply inside her, wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him.

  When the climax exploded in her, he muffled the sound of her cry with his mouth, then groaned deeply as he shattered, too.

  Unable to think, to speak, or even move, Grace fell back and took him with her.

  It was a long time before they moved. A fine sheen of sweat covered both their bodies, and the only sound in the room was the wild beating of their hearts. Rand knew he should move, that he was much too heavy for her, but when he tried to roll away, her arms and legs tightened on him and held him still.

  To ease his weight on her, he rose on his elbows, then pressed his temple to hers and kissed the tip of her nose.

  “You were…” she said, still breathless. “That was…”

  “Pretty damn amazing, Grace,” he finished for her.

  “Yeah.” She smiled, then started to laugh.

  It took him a moment to realize what he’d said, then he started to chuckle. She was amazing, he thought. He’d never laughed like this in bed with a woman before. This was a whole new experience for him. Grace was a new experience for him, as were the feelings he had for her. He’d thought that nothing could surprise him anymore, that he’d seen it all and done most of it, too.

  And then Grace came waltzing into his life and turned everything upside down.

  He wasn’t sure he liked it, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Fool that he was, he couldn’t let her go just yet.

  But he would, he knew. He’d have to.

  She ran her hands over his shoulders, then slid her palms to his chest. The expression on her face turned serious as she lifted her gaze to his.

  “When are you going to call the lawyer?” she asked.

  He’d known they were going to have to get around to facing that. He’d intentionally kept the lawyer, and the reason they’d come to Wolf River, out of his mind since they’d driven into town. He’d wanted to concentrate on Grace, instead. Wanted to remember the way her cheeks flushed after they’d made love, the soft, dreamy haze in her eyes, the breathy tone of her voice. He wanted to remember everything about her, knew that he’d carry even the smallest detail with him for the rest of his life.

  With a sigh he rolled away from her and sat on the edge of the bed. He stared at the phone on the night-stand, felt as if his blood had turned to sludge in his veins. He was afraid if he reached for the receiver that Grace would see his hand shake.

  “It’s early,” he said roughly, and dragged his fingers through his hair.

  She rose up on her knees behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, then pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. “Leave a message, and he’ll call you back when he gets into the office.”

  “After I take a shower.”

  Her lips moved to his ear and nibbled. “Now.”

  He frowned, but her hot breath and tongue on his ear made it impossible to be irritated. Or coherent.

  He snatched up the phone and punched the hotel operator, then asked her to connect him with Beddingham, Barnes and Stephens Law Offices. He left a brief message on the lawyer’s office machine, gave him the phone number at the Four Winds Hotel and the number of the room, then hung up.

  His insides coiled, and his heart pounded. But he’d done it. He’d actually made the call.

  Grace slid her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, then back up again in a gentle, soothing motion. Slowly he felt his muscles relax and his breathing steady.

  “You go ahead and shower.” She touched her lips to his shoulder. “I’ll order some coffee and breakfast.”

  He turned suddenly, drew a gasp from her as he stood and swept her up in his arms. His mouth swooped down on hers, and he kissed her hard.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he said, his lips still pressed to hers.

  “What is it?” she murmured.

  He smiled, then took her into the shower with him and showed her.

  “Mr. Sloan, thank you for coming.” Henry Barnes welcomed Rand into his office with a warm handshake, extended a hand to Grace. “Miss Sullivan, a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Mr. Barnes.”

  “We’re informal here in Wolf River,” the silver-haired, sixtyish lawyer said, then gestured for both Rand and Grace to sit in the armchairs opposite him. “Just call me Henry.”

  The smell of leather and freshly polished oak filled the lawyer’s office. The carpet was navy blue, the walls oak wainscot, with dozens of certificates of education and awards mixed with various Barnes family photos. Rand noticed a copy of the Wall Street Journal on a small corner table, right beside a thick catalog of miniature trains and railroad accessories.

  “Rand—may I call you Rand?” Henry asked as he sat. When Rand nodded, Henry smiled. “You’re a difficult man to reach. I was beginning to think I might not hear from you.”

  From his back pocket Rand pulled out the letter he’d been carrying with him for the past several days and laid it on the lawyer’s desk. “Tell me about my sister and brother.”

  “Of course.” The lawyer sat back in his chair. “If I were you, I wouldn’t want a bunch of small talk or legal blather, either. So I’ll say it as simply and directly as possible. Your brother and sister are alive. Seth, who is now Seth Granger, is living in New Mexico. We haven’t heard back from him yet, but we do have an address and it appears to be a reliable one.”

  Rand had been in El Paso for the past six months. He’d been so close to the border he could have spit and hit New Mexico. He’d driven into Albuquerque at least a dozen times. The thought that he and Seth might have passed on the highway, or even been in a gas station or corner store at the same time, made Rand’s pulse jump.

  “And Lizzie?” he asked through the thickness in his throat.

  “Elizabeth has been more of a problem, I’m afraid.”

  Rand gripped the arms of his chair, felt a muscle jump in his jaw. He didn’t think he could bear it, to come all this way, to get this far, and find out that she didn’t want to see him.

  “What kind of a problem?” he asked tightly.

  “We haven’t been able to locate her yet,” Henry said. “We have every confidence that we will, but for the moment, we only know that she’s living somewhere on the east coast or, at least, that she was living there.”

  Rand let out the breath he’d been holding, then narrowed his gaze at the lawyer. “I want to know how this happened and why, after all this time, you’re contacting me now.”

  Expression somber, the lawyer glanced at Grace.

  Grace rose. “I’ll just wait out—”

  Ra
nd took her hand and pulled her back. He wanted her here, with him. As much as it disturbed him, he needed her here.

  “Whatever you have to say—” Rand kept his gaze on her as he pulled her back onto the chair, then looked back at the lawyer “—Grace can hear, too.”

  Henry nodded, then let out a long puff of air as he sat forward in his chair. “Twenty-three years ago, in a sudden and violent thunderstorm, your family’s car went over the side of a ravine. Your parents were killed instantly, but you, your sister and brother were all still alive.”

  Rand pressed his lips into a thin line. “Tell me something I don’t know, Henry.”

  “The first person on the scene was the sheriff in Wolf River, a man named Spencer Radick. He called your uncle William, who went to the scene of the accident with his housekeeper, Rosemary Owens.”

  Rosemary. Rand had forgotten the woman’s name until now. She’d told him to call her Rose. He remembered the scent of onions and garlic had clung to her simple brown dress the night she’d taken him to the motel room.

  “My uncle sent me with her,” Rand said absently. “She took care of me until the other man came and took me to live with the Sloans.”

  “That other man was Leon Waters,” Henry said. “A seedy lawyer from Granite Springs who worked for your uncle. He arranged all the adoptions, but they were illegal, of course. With your uncle’s help, Waters also had death certificates forged and paid off all the necessary people to make it appear that the entire family had indeed died. Sheriff Radick was paid for his silence, and he left town two months after the accident, though no one knows where he went. Not long after that, Leon Waters closed up his practice in Granite Springs and disappeared, as well.”

  The list of people Rand wanted to pay a visit to was quickly growing. And the number-one person on his list was William Blackhawk. “My uncle?”

  Henry shook his head. “He died in a small plane crash two years ago.”

  Anger tore at Rand’s insides, a searing, hot rage at the knowledge that he would never be able to face his uncle, to ask him how he could have done what he’d done to his own flesh and blood and still look at himself in the mirror.