Читать книгу The Ranger - Carol Finch, Carol Finch - Страница 10

H awk scurried along the rain-slick path to retrieve his lariat and the horses. He cursed himself, harshly and repeatedly, for not taking better care of Shiloh. And he’d be damned, he was not engraving her name on a headstone, no matter how grim her future looked right now.

Hawk clutched the reins of his sure-footed mustang then tied a lead rope to Shiloh’s mount. Her steed was reluctant, but the mustang forced it to follow—or be dragged.

Hawk patted the mustang’s muscular neck. “Sorry, Dorado. We’ve been to hell and back together many times. This is just another tough day on a tough job.”

The coal-black gelding nickered, as if in agreement, and methodically towed the skittish mare along behind him.

By the time Hawk reached the place where Shiloh had slipped and fallen, lightning was flickering from one low-hanging cloud to another. Hawk was able to make out the silhouettes of DeVol and Stiles as they picked their way around the boulders. Although they hadn’t located the path, they were making headway and they posed a threat.

Feeling a sense of urgency Hawk turned his attention back to Shiloh who was wedged in the ravine below. Your fault, the voice of conscience scolded him as he secured the lariat to the saddle horn. This morning he had stumbled onto Shiloh, unintentionally forcing her to suffer through all sorts of perilous situations, the worst of which was a nasty fall down the rugged embankment. But she was wrong if she thought he was going to turn his back on her to save his own hide.

Thunder grumbled overhead, causing the mare to bolt sideways then slam into the stone wall. “Easy, girl,” he soothed, then anchored the lead rope to a scrub bush.

Hawk clamped his hands around the dangling lariat then eased over the rough ledge. He cast a wary glance at the two outlaws that were trying to overtake him then worked his way down to the next shelf of rock. When lightning flickered on Shiloh’s slumped form, he scrabbled north toward the crevice. His feet shot out from under him when he hit the slick mud at the base of a boulder. He grimaced when his shoulder slammed into the slab of stone.

Hawk steadied himself with the rope and gathered his feet beneath him. He inched along the narrow ledge until he was an arm’s length from Shiloh. He nudged her shoulder, but she didn’t respond.

Hawk sighed heavily. “Why can’t just one thing be easy?”

His hard, unadorned life in the Apache camp in Sundance Canyon was a constant exercise in survival training. His experiences with the Rangers consisted of one dangerous foray following closely on the heels of another.

Maybe this is all there is to life, he mused as he reached out to hook his arm around Shiloh’s limp body. With a heave-ho he scooped her from the V-shaped wedge between boulders. Maybe it was simply a man’s lot in life to face one challenge after another and try to bury the unpleasant memories he encountered along the way.

His pessimistic thoughts scattered like buckshot the moment he levered Shiloh over his shoulder and felt her luscious feminine curves against his masculine contours. For some reason her weight seemed more of a comfort than a burden to him. Damn if he could figure out why.

When she moaned groggily and clung to him, as if he were a pillow she was trying to snuggle up against, his trying day—hell, who was he kidding?—his trying life—didn’t seem so bad. Shiloh was warm and soft and cuddly…and he better not get sidetracked with these ridiculous whimsical thoughts. He still had a rugged hillside to scale and this was just a part of his job—rescuing folks from disastrous situations. Just because Shiloh’s sassy disposition and feminine allure sparked an ill-fated fascination inside him didn’t change a thing. He’d be every kind of fool if he let himself forget that.

Hawk clamped his arm across the back of Shiloh’s thighs then shifted her on his shoulder so she wouldn’t fall. Grabbing the rope anchored to the mustang that waited above him, he walked south along the narrow ledge, using the same route going up the hillside that he’d taken coming down.

He was one third of the way up the steep embankment when Shiloh regained consciousness. When she reared up, trying to get her bearings, Hawk clamped his arm tighter around her hips.

“It’s just me,” he reassured her hurriedly. “It will be a lot easier for me to negotiate this slope if you’ll stay where you are and hang on to me.”

“You came back for me.” Her voice held a hint of wonder. “I expected you to be long gone by now,” she said as she locked her arms around his waist.

“Just goes to show you how badly you misjudged me.” He grunted as he pulled himself hand over hand to another stone slab. “Right now I’m the best friend you could have because I’m familiar with this area. I grew up here with my clan. I’ll get you to a place that’s dry and safe and then patch you up.”

“Nice of you, since I wouldn’t be in this shape if I hadn’t run into you in the first place. Now here you are, dragging me all over creation.”

Despite the jibe, Hawk detected the hint of wry humor and gratitude in her voice. She wanted him to think she was a foul-tempered shrew, but he had come to realize that beneath that prickly facade was a woman of character and personality. True, she didn’t trust him—but he couldn’t blame her for that. Also true, someone had hurt her deeply and she held every male on the planet responsible.

But who was he to criticize? For several years he had held all palefaces everywhere accountable for the tragic loss of his family and the only way of life he had ever known. Which was why taking refuge in Sundance Canyon was going to be as much of a blessing as it was a curse. He was familiar with the area that would always feel like home to him—but the place triggered too damn many haunting memories.

“Thank you for coming back for me,” Shiloh murmured a moment later, then gave his ribs an appreciative squeeze.

A jolt of pleasure zapped him, but he valiantly tried to ignore it. “You’re welcome. It’s part of my job.”

No matter how many hair-raising predicaments he and Shiloh encountered he wasn’t going to become emotionally attached to her, he promised himself sensibly.

“Just hang on a little longer. We’re almost to the ledge.” He waited a beat then said, “I’m going to twist you around and plant my hands on your fanny so I can lift you over my head. Don’t go getting indignant on me again. I don’t want either of us to take a spill and give DeVol and Stiles a chance to do their worst.”

“Is this an excuse to put your hands all over me again?” she asked suspiciously. “I already have as many of your handprints on me as I have bruises.”

“Are you asking if I’m going to enjoy it?” He chuckled. “Probably. But it’s the most practical method of getting you to safety. That’s my first consideration.”

“Right. All noble intent. How can I keep forgetting that,” she mumbled against the taut tendons of his back.

“When I say go, you’re going to twist and lunge in the same motion,” he instructed. “You’ll probably land hard, but I won’t be in a position to be gentle with you while I’m dangling over the cliff and hanging on to this lifeline…. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she murmured.

He felt her tense in anticipation of being shoved onto the shelf of jagged stone. But to her credit she didn’t wail in pain and give away their position to the pursuing bandits. He did hear her muffled gasp and moan and figured she had landed on her swollen ankle or bruised hip. But you had to admire a woman who was being put through hell and hadn’t dissolved into whimpers and tears. Shiloh was the bravest, most adaptable women he’d ever encountered.

“Scoot back, Shiloh,” he cautioned as he pulled himself upward. “I don’t want to accidentally kick you when I come up and over this ledge in a hurry.”

“I’m clear,” she called out.

Gathering himself, Hawk surged upward, slinging his leg sideways so he could roll across the stone slab. He came to a stop, flat on his back. Shiloh hovered beside him. To his astonishment, she bent over and kissed him right smack-dab on the mouth. But her alluring taste, feel and scent was gone as quickly as a lightning strike, leaving him oddly disappointed.

And yet…he was relieved that the moment hadn’t lasted very long. The very worst thing that could happen was for him to become addicted to the taste of a man-hating firebrand who was only going to be another footnote in his life, and in his career as a Texas Ranger.

“Thank you for saving my life,” she murmured. “Maybe I can return the favor someday.”

“Let’s hope not.” Hawk rolled over then stood up in one swift motion. “That would suggest I’d dragged you into another dangerous scrape. You’ve had too many of those, thanks to me.”

“Well, it’s better than being jilted and betrayed by a man who claimed to have tender feelings for you.”

Shiloh clamped her mouth shut so fast she nearly bit off her runaway tongue. She hadn’t meant to reveal that information, but she wasn’t thinking straight. Which explained the impulsive kiss she’d bestowed on Hawk. She didn’t know what possessed her, other than the fact that she was rattled, relieved to be back on solid footing and grateful to be alive.

It wasn’t because she’d succumbed to the forbidden attraction she felt for him, she assured herself. Falling for this brawny tumbleweed of a man would never do. She had to remember not to depend or rely too heavily on Hawk. He was a man, capable of hurting her.

But maybe she could use him as a sounding board and confide what happened in Louisiana. She could test her ability to control her emotions during the telling of the humiliating incident to Hawk. She could rehearse now so she would be better prepared when she told her brothers what had sent her dashing home from New Orleans unannounced.

Given the emotional distress of this fiasco, and her multiple injuries, even Hawk might not think her weak and foolish if she broke down in tears.

Shiloh didn’t protest when Hawk hoisted her to her feet, then sat her atop his mustang. She smiled in amusement when the horse slung its head sideways to pick up her scent. She was relieved the animal didn’t take a bite out of her leg to show its disapproval.

“So you got jilted by a fool that didn’t appreciate you,” Hawk remarked as he grabbed the reins and started up the rain-drenched path, keeping his eyes peeled for the ever-present desperadoes. “Worse things have happened.”

“Like this misadventure?” She smirked as she stared down at the waterlogged bandits that were sprawled on a boulder, struggling to regain their footing. “Like nearly drowning when a wild man and his horse practically landed on me in midstream while I was out of my protective disguise? Or are you referring to being shot in the arm because bloodthirsty outlaws are furious with you? Not to mention scraping the hide off my knees and hips and twisting my ankle when forced to go mountain climbing at night…in a rainstorm.”

“Exactly. And I said I was sorry about all that.”

“I’ll have you know that getting your pride trampled, being lied to then carelessly discarded feels ten times worse than suffering a few strains, sprains and bruises,” she contended. “When a man claims he has eyes only for you, while he’s dallying with someone else, you learn your lesson well, believe me. Men want only two things from a woman.”

“Two?” Hawk asked, amusement coloring his voice. “Where was I when these rules and regulations were passed out? I thought there was only one reason for needing a woman. I must’ve missed that part of my education while living in the Apache village.”

His tone turned hard and clipped, startling her. “But in my defense, I was too busy trying to keep my clan from starving and dying because the army boxed us in the canyon for the winter and then killed as many of us as possible so we wouldn’t cause an uprising when we were forcefully removed to reservations in New Mexico and Indian Territory.”

Shiloh inwardly cringed at his comment. She felt petty and self-pitying in comparison to the trials and tribulations he’d faced. She was bitter about losing her heart to a man who found her unappealing and uninteresting, but Hawk had to deal with the extermination of his Apache family and way of life.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “In comparison, I have no reason to complain. But it still hurts to discover there is very little about yourself to like or admire. My brothers led me to believe otherwise. I should have realized they were too partial to exercise sound judgment.

“I went naively out into the world and discovered that Antoine Troudeau only pretended to like me…until someone with better social connections and a larger inheritance came along. Hearing that Antoine and Aimee Garland had been found together in her bedroom shortly after Antoine asked to contact my brothers so he could ask for my hand, was a devastating emotional blow. It also sent me running home with a lot more speed than dignity and common sense.”

“Which is why you were paddling around in the river without a chaperone,” he presumed as he weaved around the gigantic stone slabs that formed the peak of Ghost Ridge. “Understandable, even if it was a risk to your personal safety. But I guess I can’t blame you for striking out alone. I also needed time alone to conquer my bitter thoughts after the army took my clan prisoner and herded us off like cattle.”

“Were you allowed to go your own way when the soldiers learned that you were half-white?”

Hawk snorted derisively. “Allowed? Hardly. My brother and I escaped captivity with several other braves. Two of them were shot down the first day. Another friend died the third day from the wound he suffered. My brother, Fletcher, and I eventually took refuge with an old friend who advised us to change our appearance and split up so the army couldn’t track us down easily. Fletch headed north and I went southwest.”

“And you haven’t seen your brother since? I can’t imagine not seeing my brothers regularly, especially after we lost our parents in the fire that destroyed our original homestead. We needed mutual compassion and support to deal with our loss.”

“Fletch and I made a pact to rendezvous two years later at Jackson Hole, where the trappers and traders camp.”

She held her breath. “Did he show up?”

“Yes. He had taken a job scouting and riding shotgun for a stage line in Montana while I found the same kind of work in Arizona. Since then he has relocated in Colorado as a cattle detective and bounty hunter and I came back to Texas.”

Shiloh was relieved that Hawk had one family connection left. No one deserved to be alone and isolated. Except maybe those ruthless cutthroats that were out for her and Hawk’s blood.

“I presume the army is unfamiliar with your white name and that’s why they’ve had difficulty tracking you down.”

“That and the fact that our style of clothing and appearance has changed drastically the past decade.” Hawk drew the horses to a halt. “This is where the trail becomes even more difficult. You’ll have to dismount.”

Shiloh eased from the saddle, grateful that Hawk was there to steady her on her good leg. The other one was throbbing in rhythm with her heartbeat.

The wind had picked up again, howling and whistling around the jagged precipice. Shiloh shivered uncontrollably in her damp clothes. These were the same unnerving sounds that echoed in her ears the instant before she stumbled off balance and fell into the ravine.

Hawk must have sensed her unease because he cuddled her closer rather than prop her against a boulder for support. She was beginning to realize that he wasn’t a soulless outlaw. He might very well be an outlaw that seized every opportunity to make money, but he obviously had a smidgen of compassion and integrity.

“I’m going to take the horses over the ridge.” Hawk stepped away, leaving her feeling cold and alone again. “Don’t go wandering off while I’m gone and alert the bandits.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Shiloh glanced sideways, grateful that the darkness concealed the plunging depths of the canyon and granted her relief from her fear of height. “Please be careful. I promised to return the favor of saving your life, but I’m going to need time to recuperate. One bad leg and arm will seriously hamper my rescue skills.”

He chuckled lightly. Then, to her complete surprise, he leaned down to kiss her cold lips. As before, when she had impulsively kissed him, she got just a quick sampling. But she dared not ask for more—for fear she’d like it too much.

That was definitely taboo for a woman who had recently sworn off men and vowed to form no emotional attachments.

“Why’d you do that?” she whispered curiously.

“That’s in case the Great Spirit decides it’s my time to follow the Ghost Path to rejoin my clan.” He handed her one of his saddlebags. “If I don’t make it back, there’s enough pemmican and hoecakes to last you until your ankle heals and you can cross over to Sundance Canyon. The Ranger battalion is headquartered at an abandoned outpost eight miles from here.”

When he turned away, Shiloh clutched the collar of his shirt and pulled him back. “I know I didn’t put my best foot forward, but if we never see each other again, I’d like to die knowing that I’m not the worst possible match for a man.” She peered earnestly at him, wishing her feminine pride wasn’t pressing so hard when staying alive should be the only thought on her mind. “Even if I’m the last person you’d be interested in, Hawk, would I at least be worth consideration as a wife?”

He could hear the need for reassurance and acceptance in her voice and he wanted to strangle that French bastard that had shattered her self-esteem. “I’m not the marrying kind, but you’d be at the top of my list,” he insisted. “You’ve got courage, spunk and spirit. Any man who doesn’t appreciate those qualities in a woman can’t be much of a man.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked, her gaze searching his hopefully.

“I really think so….”

He cursed his lack of self-restraint when he impulsively angled his head to kiss her again, as if it were his right and his privilege—which it wasn’t and it never would be.

Damn it, once he got started kissing her he couldn’t seem to stop. What the devil was the matter with him? It was out of character for him to respond so recklessly to a woman, especially when faced with the arduous task of keeping them both alive. Willfully, he dragged his mouth away from hers before he did something insanely stupid—like help himself to a long, deep taste of those dewy-soft lips and crush her luscious body against his.

“Sit tight, Shiloh,” he said, his voice raspy and disturbed—much to his dismay. “DeVol and Stiles won’t find you here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Hawk led the horses along the winding trail, chastising himself for taking another quick taste of Shiloh. Damn it, he kept breaking every hard-and-fast rule about remaining distant and detached during assignments. This had to stop right now! A moment earlier would have been even better.

Hawk forcefully tamped down the warm tingles of lusty pleasure pulsating through him. He concentrated on scaling the difficult section of the trail. Even his mustang turned skittish when the footing became difficult. The mustang balked and nearly jerked Hawk’s arm from its socket in protest.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve asked you to stick your neck out, Dorado,” Hawk told the mustang. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if you become as contrary as Shiloh.”

The second time he tried to coax the mustang into bounding uphill, the wailing wind picked up. The jittery mare reared up then slammed into the mustang. Both animals shifted nervously beside him.

“Enough!” Hawk growled impatiently. He slapped Dorado on the rump, forcing him to bolt forward. The mare whinnied in fear when she was forced to follow the mustang. The horses collided with each other and struggled to regain their footing on the ledge above him.

Hawk muttered several salty oaths when the sky opened up and rain pounded down on him. He wondered what else could possibly go wrong with this escape from the vicious outlaws. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It might destroy what little enthusiasm he had mustered for the occasion.

In grim determination, Hawk climbed over the slabs of rock to regather the horses’ reins. Together they scaled one angular stone slab after another.

A half hour later, Hawk stood on the summit that had felt like the top of the world when he was a child. From here, he had stared into the past and into the future, wishing for a better life. But no amount of Apache training had prepared him for the near extermination of his clan. No amount of consoling platitudes could make him forget how he had hated the whites for their butchery and treachery.

Hated that part of himself that was born white.

Furthermore, he had never forgiven his father for siring two sons and then riding off with a fortune in furs to buy himself a proper wife and a place in society, much like Antoine Troudeau had sought to do when he discarded Shiloh in search of a wealthier conquest.

Hawk’s father, John Fletcher Logan, had used his Indian bride and his Apache connections to improve his financial status. Then he had abandoned the Apache people before the soldiers closed in around them and he never looked back.

A gust of cold wind slapped Hawk in the face, jostling him back to the present. This was not the time to dredge up hurt and resentment. It was dark. It was wet and cold and the footing was treacherous. One misstep and he’d be buzzard bait. Which would leave Shiloh alone to hobble over the stone crest, while dodging bandits intent on disposing of an eyewitness.

Gritting his teeth in anticipation of another battle with the horses, Hawk forged ahead. Sure enough, the animals set their feet stubbornly when he urged them to scrabble downhill into Sundance Canyon.

Exasperated, Hawk glanced skyward. “Can’t at least one thing come easy tonight?”

Thunder boomed in the distance. Hawk was pretty sure that translated as no.

Shiloh didn’t realize how attuned she’d become to her surroundings until she noticed Hawk’s masculine silhouette outlined by a flash of lightning. She sagged in relief. At least she didn’t have to contend with a hungry predator or those bloodthirsty bandits on this dark and stormy night.

“Are the horses all right?” she called out as Hawk approached.

“You mean other than being perturbed at me for forcing them to become mountain goats? Yeah. They are tucked out of the rain…and now it’s your turn.”

Shiloh pushed away from the boulder and balanced on her right leg. She gasped in surprise when Hawk swooped down to pick her up. “Absolutely not!” she protested, squirming in his arms. “I can walk…well, limp at least.”

“I doubt you weigh more than a hundred pounds dripping wet,” he insisted as he carried her up the trail. “You’ll have to handle the difficult stretches of the path, but until then save your strength.”

Shiloh resented the fact that she was forced to put her life in a man’s hands. It went against the grain that she actually savored the security and comfort of being cradled against the solid wall of Hawk’s chest. She shouldn’t enjoy the feel of his sinewy arms encircling her.

Wasn’t it just last week that she’d made a pact with herself to avoid physical and emotional contact with men? And here she was, depending on this brawny Apache knight to provide for and protect her.

But this is a rare exception, she convinced herself. She was weak and injured—in unfamiliar terrain and turbulent weather. She would have offered aid and comfort to Hawk if the situation were reversed. When she was functioning at full capacity again she would be self-reliant and independent. Until then—

“Time to prove what you’re made of, Shi,” Hawk challenged, breaking into her thoughts. He set her carefully on her feet, but wrapped his hand around her elbow for support. “I’ll hoist you up beside me after I’m standing on the overhanging ledge.”

Shiloh watched him lever himself up and over the angular slab of stone, then extend his hand to her. She reluctantly reached out to him—and broke her promise of never depending on a man again.

She grimaced as she braced herself on her injured arm and skinned knees, but she did what she had to do to drag herself onto the rough slab of rock. She drew in a fortifying breath and mentally prepared herself to repeat the process twice more. When Hawk slid one arm around her waist and the other beneath her knees, she didn’t object.

Exertion made her light-headed. Worse, the blow to her skull caused bouts of nausea at unexpected moments—like now.

When she felt Hawk’s heartbeat pounding against her shoulder she squirmed for release so he could catch his breath. “Want me to carry you awhile?” she teased.

“Yeah, don’t know why I should have to do all the work,” he said between gasping spurts of breath. “Just because your ankle is swollen twice its normal size is no excuse for slacking off.” He tossed her a wry glance. “So tell me, how long do you plan to milk my sympathy? Until I have a stroke?”

“Yes. Then I will have repaid you for scaring two dozen years off my life and getting me into this predicament.”

Shiloh was relieved to realize that, thanks to Hawk’s teasing, she was regaining her playfulness and self-assurance. But of course, this wasn’t the same as following proper protocol at a social ball. She’d felt ill equipped to play the role of a Southern aristocrat in New Orleans. Yet, here on the edge of nowhere, where only the basic rules of survival applied, she didn’t have to be anyone except herself.

Hawk wasn’t a sophisticated suitor trying to make a grand impression on her—or vice versa. He was the competent companion who accompanied her from one misadventure to the next. They didn’t have the time or the need to put on airs. They had their hands full just trying to stay alive.

“Break’s over,” Hawk said before he scooped her up again.

Several minutes later Shiloh nearly squeezed the stuffing out of him in tense anxiety because he set her on her feet on the highest peak of Ghost Ridge. The wind buffeted her, threatening to launch her from her perilous perch. Dark though it was, she could see the spooky silhouettes of boulders that created eerie formations rising from the inky-black depths of the chasm. Her fear of height broadsided her and her heart leaped into triple time, making it difficult to breathe.

“I’ve got you,” Hawk whispered against the side of her neck. As reassurance, he tightened his grip on her waist. “In daylight this is an awe-inspiring view because you can see for miles. It’s little wonder that my people believe this is where the guardian spirits congregate to oversee the world.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. “Can we get on with this before I lose what nerve I have left?”

“Just so you know, Shi, you’ve impressed the hell out of me,” he confided. “You’ve met every challenge like a trooper.”

“Not that I’ve had a choice,” she replied, begrudgingly pleased with his compliment. She forced herself to open her eyes and survey the dark precipice. “I appreciate the fact that you returned to rescue me. You’re still a man, of course, and I’ll continue to hold that against you,” she added wryly, “But I’m willing to overlook that basic flaw. For now.”

“You’ll be cursing me in the next breath,” he foretold. He gestured toward the drop-off that had unnerved the horses earlier. “You’ll have to put faith in me and leap into my arms, Shiloh. There’s no other way since you sprained your ankle.”

Shiloh swallowed uneasily when she glanced down where he pointed. Her stomach dropped twelve feet.

“This isn’t going to be one bit of fun,” she said.