Shadow of the Hawk [Wayback Texas Series]

by Judith Rochelle

  His groin tightened.

  "Stunned,” he admitted.

  She stood up and walked to the window, keeping her back to him. “Let's be clear about one thing though. This is an engagement in name only. It doesn't have certain privileges."

  Like intimacy.

  Of course.

  Poor old Hawk Riley wouldn't dare demand that of her. His ego vibrated at her rejection of him as a bed partner at the same time it made him chuckle silently. She was certainly right there. The women he chose to have sex with were none too particular who they spread their legs for.

  So here he was, Hawk Riley, a battered drunk with no future and only one skill as a redeeming feature. Someone who, if he agreed to this idiotic proposal, wouldn't demand his conjugal rights. He'd just be grateful for a place to roost for however long it lasted. And a nice payday at the end. Maybe.

  He shifted uncomfortably, wishing the pain meds weren't making his brain so foggy.

  "I promise you'll be comfortable,” she told him. “You'll have your own bedroom and bath, all the amenities you'll need.” She paused, and when she continued her voice had a tentative quality to it. “We'll have to at least put on the appearance of engagement, or this won't work. Like taking our meals together, and maybe spending some time together in the evenings."

  She gripped her hands together behind her back and her shoulders raised and lowered as she took anther deep breath.

  "And you'll draw a salary like everyone else."

  "Won't people ask questions about our peculiar situation?” He sure as hell would. “Not too many women bring a derelict home from the hospital as their intended."

  "You let me worry about that. You have an unequaled reputation at training cutting horses. You have no ties that I could find, no wife or girlfriend and no likely candidate. In your position, the temporary stability and the money at the conclusion of our ... situation are sure to be attractive.” She turned back to the window, body ramrod-straight, shoulders rigid. “And you don't abuse the women you're with."

  Hawk recoiled at the harshness of her words. Was that why her marriage had failed? He was no smooth gentleman but he'd kill any man who treated a woman roughly. That could explain why her eyes were always shadowed with pain.

  "So. You've got les than two months to whip your clientele and their horses into shape while you fight off Owen Grainger. But me, your new, fiancé, is going to be the solution to your problems, Have I got that right?"

  Shadows darkened her eyes. “I guess that about sums it up."

  "Just for chuckles, what will you expect of me, the drunk who let his truck fall on him, besides a dinner companion and a working stiff?” He failed to keep the bitterness from his voice.

  Maggie almost recoiled from its intensity, then let out a slow breath. “I expect you to stay sober, behave yourself in front of others, treat me with respect and work your ass off with the horses."

  "Don't mince words, do you?” Hawk stared at the muted television screen for a long time. Then he took a deep breath and let it out. “I'm sorry. You're offering me a very attractive arrangement, one I'd be a fool to refuse. Even though I think you'd be getting a bad deal here."

  Maggie had moved to stand by the chair, her arms resting along the back. Her body was rigid with tension, despite her effort at a relaxed pose.

  What was holding him back here? His life was going no place. No matter how hard he ran, he couldn't seem to outrun the demons that constantly chased him. He closed he eyes for a moment and unbelievably he thought hoof beats echoed in his brain. Was he losing his mind completely?

  He opened his eyes. “All right."

  "All right?"

  He captured her eyes with his, forcing her to look at him. “I'll agree to your insane business proposal. I'll pay the dutiful fiancé. And I promise to behave."

  Silence filled the room like dead air. Hawk had the feeling Maggie Devereaux had not really expected him to accept her offer and was uncertain what to say next.

  Finally she sat back down in the chair and crossed her legs. “Two more things."

  Hawk raised his eyebrows. “More rules to follow?"

  She looked down at her lap. “These aren't rules. Just requests. If you must drink, please do it in the privacy of your own room and sleep it off there. I also don't expect you to be celibate. When you feel the need for a woman, please do it far enough away from Wayback that it won't embarrass me."

  Hawk couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing. “How considerate of you to consider my sexual needs. And of course the tolerance of my alcohol addiction.” He waved his free hand over his body. “In case you somehow didn't notice, I'm hardly in condition to run around hauling women into bed. And if I got drunk I'd probably fall out of bed and break my other leg."

  "Mr. Riley..."

  "Since we're gong to be joined at the hip, so to speak, do you think you could find it in yourself to call me Hawk?"

  "Hawk, then.” A light blush colored her cheeks. “This isn't as easy for me as you might think. I'm just trying to let you know I can be accommodating if the need arises."

  "Accommodating.” He laughed again. “Just how far are you willing to accommodate?"

  The blush deepened but she didn't lose her poise. He gave her points for that.

  "Not as far as you may be imagining. But enough to loosen the choke hold when necessary."

  Silence again.

  "Well.” Maggie folded and unfolded her hands.

  "Yes, well.” Hawk swallowed his smile. “Have I caught you flatfooted, Maggie Devereaux?"

  "Yes.” She caught herself. “No. That is, we'll need to make plans."

  Hawk nodded, her discomfort obvious to him. His easy acceptance was rattling her. She'd come prepared for a fight and he hadn't given her one. “I think I'm being let loose from here in a couple of days."

  He watched composure reclaim her like a suite of clothes.

  "They kept you here a little longer to monitor for internal injuries.” She worried her bottom lip, then faced him again. “If you don't object, I'd like to have a barber come in today or tomorrow. I'm sure you'll feel a lot better with your hair cut and your face shaved."

  "Don't like the grizzly bear look?” Now he did smile. “Sure. He can trim it so it looks presentable but nothing short. Okay? You're calling the shots here. But with all due respect, I'd prefer to shave myself. I'm not a poodle getting ready for the show."

  The minute he saw the pain flash in her eyes he regretted his words. What an ass he was.

  "Fine.” Her voice was as sharp as his now. “You'll need clothes, too, if you don't object to me going through your things. They had to cut the ones you were wearing to shreds to get them off."

  "Hell, Maggie, we're engaged. Have at it. Although I don't think you'll be too impressed with what you find."

  She was still chewing on her lip. “In that case I'd like to get you something decent.” Not a lot,” she said hastily. “Just so you'll look...” Her voice trailed off.

  "Appropriate for the masses?” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Sure. I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

  "I want the poodle to be well-dressed, after all."

  "Maggie, listen..."

  "It's all right. I didn't mean to insult you."

  He ground his teeth in frustration. “Same goes. I have a lot of rough edges. I'll try to smooth them out if I can."

  She picked up her purse and headed for the door.

  "Maggie?"

  She turned. “Yes?"

  "There's a small, square wooden box in my suitcase. The key to it's on my key chain. Can you bring them both with you tomorrow?"

  She gave him a look he couldn't quite decipher. “Sure. No problem."

  Then she was gone, her boot heels tapping down the hall.

  Hawk leaned back against his pillows and stared at the ceiling.

  Holy Christ! What have I done?

  Chapter Five

  True to her word, when Maggie return
ed the next afternoon, she had the small box with her. When she handed it to him he could see her eyes were full of questions but she waited for him to explain.

  "Sit down,” he told her. “Please."

  Taking the little key he unlocked the box, then held it in his hands. Maggie watched him with uncertain eyes.

  "I'm not bringing much to this ... arrangement we have. And right now all the expense is yours and I'm sure people know it. But I'd like to contribute something."

  He opened the box and took out small leather pouch. From that he withdrew a gold ring with diamonds and rubies in an old-fashioned setting. He held it up for her to see.

  She stared at it, still waiting for him to explain.

  "This was my grandmother's. She died when I was in high school and it's the only thing of hers I have. I'd like you to wear it."

  Her face paled. “Oh, Hawk, I don't think..."

  "Please. You should have a ring and it would honor me for you to wear it."

  He motioned her closer to him and reached for her hand. When he slid the ring on her finger, it fit perfectly.

  "Just like it was waiting for you,” he said in a soft voice.

  But he was unprepared for the jolt of electricity that shot through his arm and straight down his body to his groin.

  Oh, shit.

  Great. Just great. Another problem I don't need.

  He dropped her hand and shifted away from her as much as his limited movement allowed. He was going into an arrangement with a woman who apparently had all the problems she could handle. He'd promised to behave but his body wasn't listening to him.

  A tiny flash of heat in Maggie's eyes told him she felt the same thing, but she was doing her best not to show it.

  "Thank you, Hawk. I'm honored to wear it.” She bit her bottom lip, a gesture Hawk had come to realize meant she was trying to keep her cool. “Thank you for agreeing to do this. I'll make it as pleasant for you as I can."

  "Same here.” Hawk forced an equally somber expression on his own face and took her hand.

  "Well, then.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “I'm of to do some shopping. I got your sizes from the stuff in your suitcase. So I'll leave you in peace and see you tomorrow."

  He listened to her footsteps until he could no longer hear them, then settled down to wait for the barber. He was in it now.

  * * * *

  By the time discharge day arrived, Hawk was agile enough with the crutches to get around fairly well. He didn't want to embarrass himself too badly in front of Maggie. Or anyone else. He was already at a disadvantage walking into a new environment. He couldn't let his temporary handicap take every edge away from him. He'd been stripped of nearly everything as it was. He refused to give up his pride.

  When Maggie came to fetch him he was already dressed and waiting for her. He'd put on the new Levi khakis and plaid shirt she'd bought him, with some help from the male nurse. The barber had cut his hair so it barely reached his shirt collar and he'd spent a long time giving himself a careful shave.

  He was still wondering how he'd let himself get talked into this ridiculous situation. But at least he looked presentable.

  "Well.” Maggie forced a smile, her own nervousness barely concealed behind a shield of cheerfulness. “A definite improvement."

  Hawk raked his gaze over her trim body in its usual jeans, today paired with a western-cut plaid shirt. She'd tied a ribbon around her ponytail, an obvious attempt to soften the severity of the style. She looked good enough to eat, and he had to remind himself firmly that she wasn't on his menu.

  "Thanks. I think.” He was anxious to get his introduction to the ranch and its population over with. “I'm ready."

  "All right, then.” She turned to the orderly waiting with a wheelchair. “I guess we're set to go."

  Hawk swung himself on his crutches over to the wheelchair. Maggie took the crutches and Hawk's small bag of possessions and the parade rolled along to the elevator. At the patient pickup area a Ford Explorer was parked under the awning, a man in his late fifties waiting beside it. His folded arms and grim expression told Hawk this was no one eager to be his friend.

  Oh oh. The cavalry's come to protect the princess.

  Maggie pulled out her smile again. “Hawk, this is my foreman, Charlie Guthrie. Charlie, meet Hawk Riley.” She stood behind the wheelchair, hands resting on Hawk's shoulders. “My fiancé."

  Charlie nodded.

  "I asked Charlie to drive,” she told Hawk. “In case you needed help getting in and out of the truck."

  In a pig's ass.

  Hawk made himself smile and hold out a hand.

  Charlie took the hand and the two men shook, eying each other like adversaries in an unknown battle. Hawk could understand how a man who'd probably known Maggie since she was born would feel protective of her. And very leery of a man with Hawk's reputation. Not to mention this absolutely screwy deal she'd set up. But apparently he'd promised Maggie his support.

  "Nice to meet you. Just wanted to let you know straight out that Mags has already had one loser nearly destroy her. I don't intend to have that happen again."

  "Damn it, Charlie.” Maggie's hands tightened on Hawk's shoulders. “That's enough."

  Hawk clenched his fists, then relaxed them. “I understand your concerns. Hurting Maggie is the last thing on my mind. She and I have an arrangement. I'm going to do my best to honor it."

  Charlie eyed him a moment longer. “See that you do. I know your reputation, Riley. I don't want her to have to bail you out of jail or pick up your sorry ass after it's been beaten half to death in some barroom brawl."

  "I get the message.” Hawk was as curt as the other man.

  Maggie broke the testosterone lock by handing Hawk his crutches. “I don't suppose you'd let Charlie or me help you into the truck."

  "I can handle it."

  "Fine.” She opened the rear door. “But don't be afraid to ask."

  When hell freezes over.

  A thick silence filled the Explorer on the drive to the ranch. Maggie finally tried to fill it now and then with a description of Mercy Creek and its operation. Hawk let her ramble, happy to have something to fill the air that didn't require him to think or reply.

  At last the fencing that marked the boundary of Mercy Creek came into view. Post and wire fencing stretched endlessly past pasture land until white split rail fencing led them to the driveway. The last time Hawk had been here he'd been soaked to the skin with his truck falling on him. He hoped fate would treat him better this time.

  The ranch house was a long stone and adobe structure with an abundance of windows and a porch that ran across the front. As they drove closer Hawk could see a round pen and training corral in the back and several large buildings that stretched away from the house. There seemed to be a lot of activity but before he had time to see what it was Charlie pulled up to the front door and turned off the ignition.

  A man loped up to the truck in jeans and a plaid shirt, wearing a hat so dusty and battered its original shape and color had been lost. “Hey, Charlie,” he said through the open window. “We had a little problem."

  Maggie had exited the truck and was about to open the door for Hawk but now she stood stock still. “What kind of a problem, Clint?” When he shifted his eyes to Charlie she stiffened. “This is still my damn ranch and they're my problems. What happened?"

  Clint nodded. “Yes, ma'am. Someone cut the fencing in that pasture we moved the foals to yesterday."

  "What?” Maggie was around the truck next to Clint in an instant, Charlie now beside her. “Did we lose any of them?"

  Clint shook his head. “No. A couple of the boys were out before dawn riding the fence line and caught it. Two of the babies had wandered through the break and one's got a cut on her fetlock from the wire but otherwise they're fine."

  Charlie slammed the Explorer door. “Take three of the hands and move them back down here next to the barns. Right now. I'll be down there as soon a
s...” He glanced into the truck at Hawk. “In a few minutes."

  Clint, realizing suddenly there was another person in the vehicle, was staring with open curiosity.

  "Now, Clint,” Charlie snapped at him.

  "Go on, Charlie,” Hawk said. “I can manage."

  Maggie had moved back to open his door and he scooted to the edge of the seat. “Just give me my damn crutches and point me in the right direction."

  Charlie glanced at Maggie.

  "I can handle it,” Hawk grated. “I'm not a total cripple."

  "Go on, Charlie.” Maggie's voice was tight. “I'll be down there in a few minutes."

  "Damn it, Maggie,” Hawk began.

  "Just quit arguing and let me get you into the house so I can take care of business.” Tension marked every line of her body and her voice had a sharp edge to it.

  Hawk grabbed his crutches, clenched his jaw so tightly he thought he'd break it, and got himself to an upright position. “Just tell me which way I'm going,” he grated.

  Jaw set, he propelled himself from the car to the house and somehow up the two short steps to the porch. Maggie hurried ahead to open the door for him and ushered him inside. To his left was a long, open great room with a big recliner which he dropped into gratefully. He knew he was sweating from just that little effort and blotted his forehead with his shirt sleeve. His pulse was racing faster than he liked but that would recede after he'd rested a bit.

  But how the hell was he going to work when everything took so much out of him? Well, he'd just have to figure it out. Somehow he'd fallen into a great situation here, and he wasn't about to screw it up.

  He hauled the crutches across his thighs and glared at Maggie. “Go on. You need to get down to the barn and check out what happened. I'm fine."

  She bit her lip. “But..."

  "Maggie, for Christ's sake. Move it. I'll be fine here while you take care of business. Get going."

  She took one look at him and fled, her boot heels tapping on the hardwood floors as she head toward the back of the house.

  Shit!

  Hawk swiped at his face again and leaned back in the chair. He sensed from Charlie that this ‘engagement’ was already the subject of vitriolic speculation. He didn't want anyone to add “lazy cripple” to the names he was sure had already been applied to him.