Best of Cowboys Bundle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer

  After a second Grant darted him a look of consternation and silently mouthed, Fall! Then rolled his eyes.

  Hawk let fly a swearword, grabbed his side in mock pain and fell dramatically over the top and down the back side of the rise. Praying the slight time delay hadn’t made the rustlers suspicious.

  He held his breath. A split second later the elder Lloyd cursed harshly. “What the hell did you do, you idiot? Are you insane? I told you I wanted no part of murder!”

  “Come on, let’s get out of here, Dad,” Jeremy said, then there was a slamming of truck doors and the engine was revved.

  Hawk dared a peek over the rise. Grant was letting them get away!

  Suddenly lights flashed and sirens wailed, shattering the snowy peace of the plateau. Sheriff’s cruisers were everywhere, coming from every direction. They pulled out from behind nearby trees, screamed up the highway from both sides, roared down the road from the ranch.

  Hawk vaulted to his feet, watching in relief as the two Lloyds and the others were dragged from the truck and slapped in handcuffs.

  “Hawk!”

  He whirled, and caught Rhiannon as she leapt into his arms. “Baby! You’re safe!” He hugged her close, never so glad to see anyone in his life. “Fitz?”

  She nodded happily. “Cold and disoriented but basically fine. They took him to the hospital to check him over.”

  He covered her lips with his, needing to taste her, to feel her warmth, to know she was truly safe. After a long kiss, he let out the breath he had seemingly been holding since being taken from her. “Thank God you’re both okay. How did you get back?”

  “The search and rescue team came and got us just after you rode off. Apparently the sheriff was watching the whole time. I was so worried about you!”

  “I’m no worse for wear. Grant managed to let me know it was all a setup.”

  “And you trusted me?” Grant stood at the top of the rise looking down on them with a wry smile.

  Hawk managed to smile back. “Hell, no. But I didn’t seem to have a lot of options. Gotta say, I’m pretty relieved you turned out to be one of the good guys.”

  “Yeah, well. I may be good, but you’re the lucky one.”

  Didn’t he know it. He hugged Rhiannon tighter. “You think?”

  Grant sighed elaborately. “The reward and the girl. How lucky can one guy get? It’s downright depressing.”

  The reward and the girl. He liked the sound of that.

  The Cattlemen’s Association reward!

  In all the commotion, he’d forgotten about that. “Oh, man,” he said on a long, elated breath. “Looks like Irish Heaven is saved, after all.”

  Rhiannon gazed up at him, her smile radiant. “You did it, Hawk. I’m so proud of you.”

  Hawk’s happiness slipped just a little. He whisked her up into his arms and started walking toward the warmth of the nearest sheriff’s cruiser so she wouldn’t notice the sudden stab of sadness that seized him.

  With the substantial reward, Irish Heaven would be solvent again. Rhiannon would now have money to live on and wouldn’t have to work more than part-time. She could sell the remaining cattle and not have to worry about that end of things anymore. She’d be free to do whatever she wanted.

  And he would be free to leave.

  Because there was no longer any need for him on Irish Heaven.

  He’d take his horses and a small slice of the reward money as back wages and strike out on his own, to make a new life for himself. It was time.

  The lucky one? Yeah.

  Grant was sure right about one thing.

  It was downright depressing.

  “My saints!” Rhiannon exclaimed when she saw an envelope from Ireland among the other mail that evening.

  After making their statements at the sheriff’s office, they’d stopped for fixings for a celebratory meal, complete with two bottles of champagne. Hawk had grilled steaks to perfection, and they’d shared one bottle over dinner with Fitz, saving the other for later. After dessert, she’d finally remembered about the pile of mail they’d fetched from the post office box.

  She stared at the letter, wondering what had prompted Aunt Bridget to write. With sudden horror, she ran to the mantel and frantically searched for the letter she’d written to her aunt and uncle a few weeks ago when she’d felt so depressed about everything. To her dismay it was nowhere to be found.

  “Did you see a letter sitting on the mantel?” she asked Hawk.

  “Yeah, a while back. I mailed it for you.”

  “Oh, dear,” she murmured apprehensively, balancing the letter in her hands.

  “Something wrong?”

  She planted a smile on her face. “No, not at all.” But she didn’t move.

  This was what she’d decided was best, to return to Ireland. So why was she so reluctant to hear their answer?

  “Are you going to open it?”

  Her face started to smart from keeping the smile in place. “Of course.” She swallowed, and carefully tore open the envelope. What had her aunt and uncle thought of her desperate plea to come back to the farm? Would they generously take her back? Or would they tell her she’d chosen to leave and wasn’t welcome there any longer….

  As she read through it, her eyes widened and her disbelief grew. It was an apology. A poignant confession of how guilty Aunt Bridget felt about inheriting her father’s farm instead of her, how badly she felt about the way Rhiannon had been treated during her years of living there, and a heartfelt plea for Rhiannon to return to Ireland, and to bring Fitz with her.

  I’ve always carried a huge burden of responsibility and shame for your uncle’s departure for America. It was I who told him the British had come looking for him with an arrest warrant the night your father was caught and put in gaol. That wasn’t true. But I knew he’d go to America, for he’d spoken often of what he’d do if John Bull came for him. And I foolishly thought he’d take me with him.

  Rhiannon was gobsmacked. It had been Aunt Bridget’s fault Fitz had left Ireland so suddenly? Unbelievable. And now she wanted Fitz to return, so she could take care of him as he descended further into forgetfulness.

  You’ve already done your share, my love, so dutifully nursing your dear mother, my sister, through her illness. Please give me the chance to make amends, in small part, for the unhappiness I’ve caused, by caring for the man I so wronged. You say in his mind he’s already returned to Ireland. What better place to end his days than where he started?

  “What is it?” Redhawk asked her, his voice tender and filled with concern. He reached out and gently wiped the trail of moisture from her cheek. “Bad news?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d been crying. She gave a watery laugh. “No,” she said softly. “It’s the answer to our prayers. How would you like to take Fitz to Ireland?”

  It took just over a month to arrange everything for their trip to the Emerald Isle.

  Rhiannon had already made the most difficult decision of her life—not to return to America after taking Fitz home to the farm. So before their departure she put all the paperwork in order with Fitz’s lawyer for Hawk to take over the responsibility for Irish Heaven, as well as Fitz’s conservatorship. It wasn’t easy, because she didn’t want Hawk to know anything about those arrangements. She had no idea what his reaction would be when he finally found out she would not be returning with him, though she had a feeling it wouldn’t be pretty.

  But she had no choice.

  Ever since her appointment as Fitz’s conservator, he’d grown more and more convinced that she would inherit Irish Heaven. True to his word, he hadn’t asked her to marry him again, but she’d known he’d wanted to. She’d seen it written plainly on his face more than once, and had only headed him off by changing the subject before he could get the words out. What he didn’t know was, if she did inherit Irish Heaven sometime in the future—which she still wasn’t convinced of—she planned to turn it all over to him, anyway.

  She loved and wanted
Hawk, but he didn’t return her feelings—he wanted her, but it was the ranch he loved. She knew he’d devoted every minute of every day for eleven long years to its upkeep, sacrificing his life, taking nothing for himself. He should have this land. It was only fair. He’d earned it far more than she.

  In the bank account, she left most of the reward money for him, taking only enough for airline tickets and a bit to make Fitz comfortable in his new home. Once her uncle had settled in with Bridget and Patrick, she would leave the farm and find a job and a place of her own in a nearby village.

  It was time to get on with it. As difficult as it would be to leave Hawk behind, she couldn’t spend her life taking second place to a piece of land.

  She needed to be loved. She deserved to be loved.

  “You’ll never guess,” she said one evening as they were packing, a few days before they were to leave, “who volunteered to take care of the horses while we’re gone.”

  “Who?”

  “Burton Grant.”

  Hawk grimaced. “Still trying with you, eh?”

  “Don’t be silly. He feels awful about having to point a gun at us. He promised to take good care of them.”

  A grunt was Hawk’s token objection. “He better.”

  “Speaking of horses…” Rhiannon had been wanting to bring up an idea she had. “What about buying a couple while we’re in Ireland?”

  At his surprised look, she explained, “Well, now that we’ve sold the cattle and the bad guys are in jail so we know there’ll be no more disasters on Irish Heaven, you can do what you’ve always wanted to do. Raise and train rodeo horses.”

  In his expression she read a mix of hesitancy and pure temptation. “Irish Thoroughbreds aren’t used for rodeos,” he pointed out logically.

  “I know. It’s just, well, you could buy a stallion and use him in your line somewhere. For speed and heart. And maybe buy a mare, too.” She tipped her head. “You could raise a Thoroughbred colt every once in a while like Fitz wanted to do. They’re worth a lot of money over here, aren’t they?”

  He shook his head. “Yes. But that would eat up a lot of the reward money. Not sure that’s smart.”

  “All right. Just the stallion, then,” she conceded. But she was determined Hawk leave Ireland with at least one perfect horse. She could see how he wanted to say yes. He was just too practical sometimes.

  “We’ll see,” he said, and turned back to packing boxes.

  She’d wondered how to pack all her things without him becoming suspicious, so she’d suggested they move downstairs into Fitz’s master bedroom after returning from their trip. He’d jumped on the idea, because of his knee. It had been aching worse than usual because of the cold and his injuries.

  But it was strange and unsettling, seeing him pack his things, separate from hers. Almost as if he knew….

  She shook herself mentally and forced herself not to think. About never sharing a room with him again. Or her bed. Or her life. Because if she broke down now and started to cry, she feared she’d never stop. She was barely holding it together as it was.

  The day of their flight came all too soon, but at the same time it was exciting knowing she’d see her homeland again. Fitz did well on the plane, and Hawk was like a little kid he was so enthralled by the view from so far above the earth. They held hands the whole trip over, and were still holding hands when Aunt Bridget and Uncle Patrick picked them up at Shannon Airport. She never wanted to let go.

  She liked how everyone stared at her with her handsome cowboy. It wasn’t every day one saw a full-blood Paiute in Ireland. Hawk looked deadly in his boots and jeans, wearing the shirt she’d embroidered for him under his lambskin coat—and his Stetson, of course. He looked about as Wild West as it got. People actually cleared a path as they walked arm in arm down to the luggage carousel.

  She wanted to shout, “He’s mine!” to every pretty girl who tossed him a flirtatious smile along the way.

  It was the hardest thing in the world to know that with a single word she could be his, forever—and the hardest choice she’d ever make not to say that word. Oh, how she wanted to. But she had to be tough.

  “You made the right choice,” Hawk whispered in her ear.

  Shocked, keeping the devastation locked inside, she glanced up at him. “Look at Fitz,” he said, tipping his chin at the trio of Fitz, Bridget and Patrick, none of whom had stopped talking since they’d tearfully greeted each other just outside Customs. Fitz was visibly thrilled to be here.

  It took all her strength to keep a smile on her face. “Yes,” she said around the lump in her throat, “it all worked out brilliantly. This is truly best for everyone.”

  A hint of a frown passed over his forehead. “What—”

  She turned toward the carousel. “Look. Here’s our luggage.”

  She knew she’d have to tell him eventually. But not yet. For just a few more days, she wanted to see him smile at her in that special way. And pretend she was his.

  Just a few more days before she let him leave her far behind.

  Redhawk had never seen so much green in his life. Or such beautiful horses. It was an incredible place, this country.

  He wrapped his arms around Rhiannon and pulled his hat down against the chill wind. The temperature might be above zero, but it felt like eighty below because the air was laden with moisture. Colder than a banshee’s curse, as Bridget would say.

  “What’s he doing?” he whispered to Rhiannon as they watched from afar as Patrick spoke with the sellers at the giant equestrian auction where they hoped to pick up their new Thoroughbred stallion.

  “Working his magic,” she whispered back.

  Hawk might have the gift of picking out good horseflesh, but Patrick knew all the players, and he had the Irish knack of striking a good bargain. Hawk had given Patrick his first three choices and monetary limits, then trusted Rhiannon’s uncle to pull off a miracle. The prices of these two-year-olds were making Hawk’s hair stand on end.

  “All bluff,” Patrick had assured him.

  He hoped that was right. Otherwise Hawk’d be going home empty-handed. He’d love to have a fine stallion to start his breeding program with, but refused to leave Rhiannon’s coffers depleted.

  “This will probably take hours,” Rhiannon murmured, turning in his arms. “Let’s go for a drive.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that.”

  They’d had a good trip so far, but they’d hardly been alone together since arriving in Ireland. Naturally they hadn’t been able to share a bed; he’d had to bunk with Fitz in the spare room, and Rhiannon had taken her old spot on a futon in the living room. It had been more than frustrating.

  But beyond that, it seemed like Rhiannon was withdrawing from him. Even on the rare occasions they found themselves alone in a room, she hesitated to get physical, shying away from his kisses and embraces more often than not.

  Yeah, all this should be a good thing. Because when they returned home and he left Irish Heaven, he wouldn’t have her close anymore. He might as well get used to it.

  But he didn’t want to. Not yet. He wanted to squeeze every bit of closeness out of every single minute they had left together. Before he had to let her go.

  They walked out to the car they’d borrowed from Bridget, and Rhiannon slid behind the wheel. He didn’t like driving on the wrong side of the road. Especially when he was this preoccupied.

  “Where are you taking me?” he said, waggling his eyebrows. He hoped to some cute bed and breakfast with a huge fluffy bed, a fireplace and room service. He squirmed in his seat, already anticipating it.

  She took his face between her hands and gave him a far too chaste kiss. “Not where you’re thinking,” she said, smiling, but her eyes looked sad. “There’s something I want you to see.” Her gaze drifted gently over his face. “And I have something I need to tell you.”

  His heart skipped a beat. He didn’t like the sound of that. He had something to tell her, too, but serious discussions could
wait until they got back to the ranch. They were supposed to be having fun on this trip. “Rhiannon—”

  “Shhh.” She put a finger to his lips. “You’re going to love this place I’m taking you.”

  It was farther than he expected. They drove for about an hour, which wouldn’t get you to the nearest big city in Arizona but was incredibly far by local standards. They followed the shoreline for the last half of the trip, hugging the wild, sea-splashed rocks of the western Irish coast.

  “I’m glad Fitz is happy,” he remarked as they passed an old man walking with his dog along the side of the road, whistling.

  “Me, too,” she agreed. “I’ll admit I was feeling a bit guilty passing on that responsibility. But it seems to be what he wants.”

  “He never stopped loving Ireland, or talking about it.”

  “And Bridget is so good with him. Even Patrick seems to enjoy having him here.”

  She lapsed into silence again. Hawk was uneasy about why she was so moody. He felt the walls dangerously close to closing in on them. Or maybe between them. He was desperate to stop that from happening. Not yet.

  It was a terrible thing to discover you were in love with someone only to find it was too late and you’d lost her.

  The thought was so quiet, he almost didn’t notice it forming in his head. But suddenly it was there, big as the Atlantic crashing against the cliffs, and just as insistent.

  He loved her desperately.

  He’d loved her all along.

  So what was he going to do about it?

  He gazed out the car window at the cold gray ocean, where it wore against the solid rock of the shore, washing over it, wearing it down grain by grain.

  That’s what he’d tried to do with Rhiannon. Wear her down. Keep making love to her and asking her to marry him until she finally said yes. But it hadn’t happened. She’d seemed happy with him, happy when they made love. But she still didn’t want to marry him.

  Unrequited love was hell.

  Maybe he’d give it one last try. Here, wherever it was she was taking him.