Native Hawk (California Legends Book 3)

by Glynnis Campbell

  He smirked as he climbed down from the ladder. “Yeah, you got quite the gun collection, Miss Hattie.”

  “That’s what the man from Chico said.”

  He folded up the ladder and set it against the wall. “What man?”

  “The one who bought ’em off o’ me.”

  “You sold ’em.”

  “I did. Got a nice bundle for ’em too. They weren’t exactly pearl-handled revolvers. But they fetched a decent price.”

  “Well, good for you.” Drew smiled. At least something good had come of the incident. “You need me for anything else?”

  “Just this,” she said.

  Reaching over the bar, she brought out a small leather satchel and handed it to him. It was heavy.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s yours. Go on, look inside.”

  When he opened the top of the satchel, silver coins winked up at him. “What the—?”

  “Gun money. I figure with that and the money you’ve been makin’ off cards, you should have enough to buy that pretty little bride o’ yours what she’s been wantin’.”

  “I can’t take your—”

  “You can and you will.”

  “But it ain’t mine, not rightly.”

  “It ain’t mine neither.”

  She had a point. For once, he was speechless…which greatly amused Miss Hattie.

  “Go on then,” she told him, chuckling. “Head down to Clark’s and have him order the thing. It should be here in a couple weeks.”

  He’d bent down and given Miss Hattie a big, sloppy smack on the cheek, which made her giggle and blush and swat at him.

  That had been two and a half weeks ago.

  Cat had told him it would take her a month to make all the dresses for the wedding. So if all went well, in another four weeks, they’d officially be Mr. and Mrs. Hawk.

  “Quit dawdling,” Chase complained as he tugged on the crate.

  “Dawdlin’?” Drew snickered. Chase was sounding more and more civilized all the time, now that he had a white sweetheart.

  Chase shook his head. “What is this anyway? Did you buy a forge so you could work on your physique for your bride?”

  “Ho ho.” His blacksmith brother might have more muscles than he did, but Drew made up for it in charm.

  Once they got the crate onto the landing, Anne and Emily rushed up to take a look.

  “What is it?” Anne wanted to know. “No, don’t tell me. Let me guess.”

  “Is it an icebox?” Emily asked.

  Drew shook his head.

  “It’s a bridal chest,” Anne said.

  “No.”

  “A washtub?” Emily guessed.

  “Nope.”

  Chase took a turn. “A piano,” he groused.

  The ladies laughed. The crate wasn’t that big.

  “Well, it’s heavy enough to be a piano,” Chase muttered.

  “Is it a nightstand?” Anne asked.

  “It’s a commode!” Emily decided.

  “A commode? Emily!” Anne jostled her friend. “Don’t be silly. What man would get his bride…” Then she looked askance at Drew. “It ain’t a commode, is it?”

  “No,” he assured her.

  “Twelve anvils,” Chase grumbled.

  “Mr. Wolf,” Emily chided, “honestly…”

  “Oh, I know! I know what it is!” Anne announced. “It’s a cradle!”

  Mortified, Chase and Drew answered together, “A cradle?”

  Chase pinned him with a glare. “Are you…?”

  Drew blew out a steadying breath. “No. No. It ain’t a cradle.”

  “Well, I’m stumped,” Anne said.

  They slid the crate into the bedroom and took a crowbar to it. Even after it was unpacked and the ladies were cooing over it, Chase had no idea what the strange wood and iron contraption was.

  But that was fine. Cat would know exactly what it was.

  Chapter 33

  Getting ready for her wedding in Claire’s upstairs bedroom at the Parker Ranch, Catalina could hardly contain her excitement.

  But it was her soon-to-be sister-in-law who was squirming as Catalina arranged the long white veil over Claire’s short blonde hair, pinning a violet spray of lupins across the top.

  “Be still,” she scolded with a laugh. “Ah, better. The pins, they are not biting you?”

  “No, they’re not biting me.”

  When she finished, she tugged Claire over to the full-length mirror. “So. Do you like?”

  Originally, Catalina had wanted a fashionable white gown like the English Queen’s. But Claire said that since the red Paradise dirt stained everything, she preferred darker colors. Catalina shuddered, remembering the ugly browns and grays of Claire’s regular wardrobe.

  They’d managed a compromise.

  Sketching out the designs for their wedding dresses, Catalina had suggested the colors of the local wildflowers—the vibrant hues of the lupins and poppies that draped the foothills in spring like brilliant swaths of cloth.

  For green-eyed Claire, she’d designed a pale lavender gown with a high buttoned neckline and a darker violet insert in the skirt. Narrow cream-colored ruffles edged the flounces and belled sleeves. The vivid fresh lupins that anchored her veil drew attention to Claire’s delicate face, and more lupins filled her bouquet.

  For herself, she’d created a soft peach dress that seemed to float on her frame in layers of sheer silk, caught up with bows to reveal playful ruffles of orange beneath. Her dark hair made a good foil for the crown of bright orange poppies that secured her white veil.

  “It’s perfect,” Claire murmured.

  They exchanged smiles in their reflection.

  Catalina loved having a sister. And she was suddenly very glad she’d insisted on a double wedding, considering the trouble they’d been given.

  If people thought Catalina’s bustle was scandalous, they were a hundred times more offended at the idea of a white woman marrying a half-breed. None of the churches would allow them to speak their vows at the altar.

  To make things worse, despite Catalina’s innocent association with The Parlor, most people judged her harshly for it.

  As for Claire, many treated her as if she’d gotten herself kidnapped on purpose.

  Many townsfolk would neither speak nor look at them.

  In the end, they’d decided to face the fire—and the scorn of society—together. They would hold a double wedding in the new barn at the Parker Ranch. That way, they knew whoever attended would be true friends.

  “I think we will be very beautiful flowers today,” Catalina decided.

  Claire turned sideways to the mirror and giggled. “Are you sure this looks right?”

  Catalina wondered if Paradise would ever get accustomed to bustles. “Oh, si, si,” she assured Claire. “It is the latest fashion.”

  She turned to the side as well to make sure her own bustle was straight. Then, with a secret smile, she ran a hand over the front of her skirt. Fortunately, she wasn’t showing too much yet.

  A movement at the window caught her eye, and she rushed over to peer at the drive below. The guests were starting to arrive.

  Catalina grinned and straightened with pride as she watched them. The ladies of The Parlor, mincing along the drive with their elegant parasols and their extravagant hats, could have passed for the aristocracy of Italy. She’d dressed them in so many beautiful colors, they looked like a lovely rainbow as they ambled past.

  Then she spotted the twins.

  “Come, come quickly,” she said to Claire. “Come see our beautiful men.”

  Catalina had chosen their suits as well. She’d wisely dressed them in different colors. Though Claire and she could easily tell the brothers apart, most could not. Chase’s suit was the deep rich brown of espresso. Drew’s was the dark blue shade of the night sky.

  Claire leaned against the window with a dreamy sigh.

  She wasn’t the only one appreciating the handsome twin
s. Catalina could see ladies whispering behind their gloves and young girls blushing as the brothers passed.

  “I think the ladies cannot decide which man is the most beautiful,” she told Claire.

  Catalina knew exactly how they felt. Her own cheeks flushed as she let her gaze travel from the top of their curling black hair to the heels of their sturdy black boots, stopping to admire their broad shoulders and narrow hips.

  But her heart thrilled to more than that. The idea that Drew belonged to her, that she was the lucky lady who was going to spend the rest of her life with him…that took her breath away.

  “Wait,” Claire said with a frown. “Didn’t you say Drew was going to wear blue and Chase would be in brown?”

  Drew knew he probably shouldn’t have broken his new rule of never betting against a lawman. But easy money was so hard to resist. So when the jailer they’d fooled with the two-spirits game had popped into The Parlor the night before his wedding, claiming nobody could tell the difference between the twins, not even their brides, Drew couldn’t help but take that bet.

  Chase wasn’t exactly happy about it.

  “I mean to split the winnin’s with you, you know,” he told Drew as they walked along the drive of the Parker Ranch.

  “What if there aren’t any winnings? What if they can’t tell us apart?”

  Drew snorted. “O’ course they can tell us apart. I’m as sure o’ that as I am o’ winnin’ a hand o’ poker with a full house.”

  What he didn’t tell Chase was that a man couldn’t necessarily always win a hand with a full house…if the other player had a royal flush…or a straight flush…or even four of a kind. In other words, there was a slim possibility that Claire and Cat might not be able to tell their grooms apart, especially since they’d swapped suits. But he was reasonably sure they could.

  That was before Samuel Parker had come up, clapped Drew on the back, and called him “son.”

  While Chase glared at Drew in silent rage, Mr. Parker took the twins on a detour behind the ranch house.

  They hiked across a field full of wildflowers and over a small hill to a spot where a solitary oak grew. At the bottom of the trunk was a hunk of stone sunk into the ground.

  This was the spot, Mr. Parker said, where he’d gently laid Yoema, their beloved grandmother—Claire’s spirit mother—to rest.

  They took a few moments to pay their respects, and then headed back to the barn.

  Drew murmured to Chase, “You know, I don’t think it matters if Mr. Parker thinks I’m his son-in-law. We’re the same blood, after all.”

  Chase gave him a sideways glare, biting out, “I don’t much like being mistaken for a gambler living in a cathouse.”

  Drew arched a brow and muttered, “So you’re Mr. Upstanding, are you?”

  Chase sniffed. “I’m a local hero.”

  Drew narrowed his eyes, hissing, “Well, except for that part about kidnappin’ a woman.”

  Chase elbowed him.

  Drew shoved him back.

  They were still grumbling at each other fifteen minutes later as they stood at the makeshift altar at the end of the barn, waiting for their brides to arrive.

  The barn had come out nice. With lumber readily available from up on the ridge and all the townsfolk pitching in, the building went up fast. The new structure had six shuttered windows which were currently open to let the sunlight in. In fact, except for the sweet smell of hay and the lack of self-righteousness, Drew didn’t see much difference between the barn and the church his mother used to take the twins to on occasion when they were young.

  Drew wasn’t even nervous until the preacher opened his book, the fiddler started playing, and he heard the rustle of clothing behind him as people stood.

  This was it, he thought, licking his lips. These were the cards he’d dealt himself. And he was all in.

  He turned to look down the aisle. The moment he saw the beautiful blossoms floating toward him, his fears vanished.

  Since Cat didn’t have anyone, Samuel Parker was giving both brides away. Flanked by the lovely ladies, he definitely looked like a thorn between two roses.

  Drew couldn’t have described later what Cat was wearing, which he was sure would have upset her. All he knew was she looked like an angel, all pretty and glowing and full of light. Apparently, the townsfolk thought so too. He could hear their gasps of awe as Cat glided down the aisle, between the benches.

  They were halfway down the path when Drew heard a strangling sound come out of Chase’s throat. Drew cast a quick sidelong glance at his brother. Chase looked like smoke would come out of his ears any second.

  Then Drew saw what he saw.

  The ladies were gazing lovingly, longingly at the wrong twin.

  His first thought was, Damn, he was going to lose the bet.

  His second thought was, Shit! He was going to marry the wrong woman.

  The brothers froze as the ladies stood beside them.

  Then the preacher began to speak.

  Hell! What was he going to do?

  Chase cleared his throat.

  Drew coughed.

  As the preacher continued to drone on, Drew clenched his fists. From the corner of his eye, he could see Chase looking like he wanted to kill something.

  “…to join together this man and this woman…” The preacher nodded to Drew and Claire, then to Chase and Cat. “And this man and this woman…”

  Suddenly, Claire burst out laughing.

  Cat’s eyes danced. “A moment, please.”

  Drew should have remembered that Cat gave as good as she got. The ladies traded places then, to the amusement of the townsfolk. Tucking their hands into the proper grooms’ elbows, they smugly grinned at their bit of mischief.

  He supposed he deserved it. It wasn’t right playing the two-spirit game on their brides. And coming so close to marrying the wrong person made him realize how much he really wanted Cat…and no one else.

  She was his one of a kind, his queen of hearts. She could be as playful as a kitten or as fierce as a wildcat, as delicate as a rose petal or as prickly as a thorn. One moment, he’d be struggling to understand her tangled words. And in the next, she was sending him an unmistakable message with her eyes alone. Cat was unpredictable, spirited, and exciting.

  He guessed life would always be uncertain.

  But though he might not know what was in the cards going forward, he was sure he wanted to share that life with Cat.

  His chest swelled with joy as he smiled down at her, his beautiful bride, repeating the words that would seal their love and make them a pair of hearts forever.

  Epilogue

  On the second floor of the Parker house, in Claire’s old bedroom, Catalina slowed the pedal on the treadle sewing machine, snipped the ends of the thread, and pulled out the tiny nightdress.

  She held it up to the late summer light streaming in through the open window. Little yellow blossoms dotted the soft white cotton, and she planned to make a matching yellow nightcap.

  She rubbed the slight curve of her abdomen. It was hard to believe that in another five months she was going to have a baby that would fit into this nightdress.

  “It’s a mite small for me, darlin’!” Drew called up from the yard below.

  She grinned and waved from the windowsill. She never got tired of Drew’s humor or his dashing good looks. Even as he was now—covered in dust, his jeans frayed, and his hair falling over his forehead—he could make her heart race with a wink of his dark, sparkling eyes.

  “When will you be finished?” she called back.

  “Soon,” he promised.

  Making sure none of the ranch hands were watching, Catalina blew him a sultry kiss.

  “Very soon,” he amended.

  She smiled, waggled her fingers in farewell, and folded the little nightdress.

  Things had certainly turned out differently than anyone expected. As Drew liked to say, it was a good thing he hadn’t wagered on his future, because taking
over the Parker Ranch had never been in his plans.

  But the previous ranch manager Frank had been hanged. And Chase and Claire had decided to return to Hupa. So Samuel Parker was left without a man to run his ranch.

  Drew was perfect for the job. He was clever, good with numbers, a fast learner, a hard worker, and handy with a gun.

  He hadn’t completely given up poker. He still played the occasional game with Sheriff Campbell. By some miracle, the sheriff had won back the heart of his Maggie Ellen. She’d forgiven him for his reckless gambling. She’d even promised to stay with him on the condition that he only played against Mr. Hawk, since, for some strange reason, he always seemed to win when he played against Mr. Hawk.

  Catalina smiled as she tucked the nightdress into her sewing basket, atop the three other gowns she’d already made.

  Of course, now, with so much to learn about the ranch and a baby on the way, Drew was up before dawn most mornings, working long into the night.

  That was fine with Catalina. She was just as busy.

  She’d had to limit her sewing to daytime, since Drew had complained her sewing machine sounded like a locomotive running through the bedroom.

  So in the evenings, she designed. She scoured her weekly delivery of La Mode Illustrée from France for pictures of the latest fashions. But she also questioned Drew about the traditional clothing of his people. She began to create new ensembles inspired by a unique combination of the latest European trends—ruffles, bustles, pleats, and lace—and Hupa tradition—shells, feathers, doeskin, and fringe.

  Ever since the women of Paradise had glimpsed the lovely creations at her wedding, she’d been swamped with dress orders. It was flattering. But she didn’t know how she was going to keep up with them, especially once she had her child.

  As she was daydreaming, she heard Drew outside again.

  “Cat!”

  When she moved to the window, she saw the mail wagon pulling out of the drive. Drew had a package in his arms.

  “I think this is for you.” He studied the box, frowning at the name. “It’s from someplace called…Ferra-”