Hawk's Way: Garth

by Joan Johnston

  “Damn!”

  Candy looked up at him. “What’s wrong?” Then she looked down and said, “Oh. Again?”

  “Again. Always. Constantly.”

  She grinned. “I think it’s kind of cute.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “You would.” His body concealed hers from the cowboys who were working nearby. He slipped his hand between them and cupped her breast, running his thumb across the nipple, which peaked instantly.

  Candy made a tiny, kittenish sound in her throat and repaid him by sliding her hand across the hard ridge in his jeans. “Two can play that game,” she teased.

  They touched each other, hands pressing, pinching, playing, always careful to keep what they were doing hidden from the men who worked around them.

  Only they might as well not have wasted their time. There wasn’t a cowhand at Hawk’s Way who didn’t know the boss had a soft spot for Candy Baylor, and any look crosswise at her was a sure way to find oneself booted off the ranch.

  Candy was breathless by the time Garth called a halt to their sensual play. He simply pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight.

  “We’ve got work to do, woman,” he growled in her ear. He turned her and gave her a little shove in the direction of the stable.

  As they fed the horses their evening ration of grain and alfalfa hay, Candy asked, “Will you tell me what I should do first, where I should start, to tame the stud?”

  “I’d leave him outside in the corral, give him some room to move around. Don’t hedge him in too close.”

  Candy nodded her head. She could do that.

  “You should be the one to feed and water him, no one else. Talk to him when you do. Keep it soft, something soothing.”

  “All right.”

  “Then you can start tempting him to come closer with something sweet. Sugar works. Leave it where he can find it at first. On the fence rail, maybe. Then make him come to you for it.”

  “Won’t he try to bite me?”

  “He might. When the time comes, watch yourself.”

  “Then what?”

  “When he starts coming to you for the sugar, you’ll have a chance to touch him. Take your time. Move slow. Don’t crowd him. Let him get to know you.”

  “And when he gets to know me, I can put a rope on him,” Candy concluded.

  “Hell, no, woman! You’d undo everything you’ve done so far.”

  Candy stepped out of a stall and stuck her hands on her hips. “How long before I can put a rope on him?” she demanded.

  Garth shrugged. “It’ll take time. Maybe a few weeks. A month. Six months. Maybe never.”

  “When will I know for sure?”

  “You’ll know when you know,” Garth said. “There’s no predicting these things. It all depends on the horse, on his history. If he can’t let go of what happened in the past, of whatever it was that made him the way he is, he’ll be useless to himself and everybody else.”

  “I see,” Candy said thoughtfully. “Oh, I see.”

  Candy looked at Garth with new eyes. She couldn’t help seeing the similarity between the battle she was fighting in her attempts to gain Garth’s love and trust and the challenge of taming the wild stallion.

  She was determined to win the stallion’s confidence. She would do whatever was necessary to save the animal from destruction. And if she could win one battle, surely she could win the other.

  “All right, Garth. I’ll do what you say.”

  “You just be careful,” Garth said. “That beast is dangerous. He’ll destroy you if he can.”

  Candy was struck by Garth’s warning. So, too, could he destroy her, if he only knew it. But she was her father’s daughter, and she wasn’t used to giving up or giving in. She would tame the stallion and the man. Just wait and see if she didn’t!

  Garth put his arm around Candy as they walked back toward the house. “By the way,” he said, “we’ll be having company for the Labor Day holiday.”

  “Oh?”

  “My sister Tate’s son is being christened. The whole family will be coming here for the occasion.”

  Garth felt Candy hesitate, then slow to a stop. She turned to face him and asked, “Where do I fit into that picture, Garth?”

  “You’ll be staying with me, of course. Just like you have been for the past week.”

  Candy shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” Garth wasn’t happy about the irritation in his voice. It indicated just how great was his need to have her in his bed.

  “I don’t want your family thinking—”

  “Don’t worry. They won’t say a word.” He would give them fair warning that Candy was different. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—tolerate his brothers saying the things about Candy that they had said about other women he had from time to time brought to Hawk’s Way.

  “But they’ll know,” Candy protested.

  “Know what?”

  That I’m sleeping with you when you haven’t once said you love me, Candy thought. She didn’t dare say that aloud.

  “How soon did you say they’ll be here?” she asked.

  “Labor Day.”

  Only three weeks in which to get Garth to admit his feelings for her.

  Candy didn’t waste any time following Garth’s advice, either with the horse or with him. She kept one rule in mind at all times.

  Give him some room to move around. Don’t hedge him in too close. With that understood she moved on to the second point Garth had made.

  You should be the one to feed and water him, no one else. She was the only one who fed and watered the stallion. Things were a little more difficult when it came to feeding Garth.

  Charlie One Horse normally prepared meals. Candy decided to take the bull by the horns and tell Charlie what she was trying to do. She caught him in the kitchen preparing supper.

  When she was done, the old Indian tugged on the beaded rawhide thong that held one of his braids and asked, “You really think this is goin’ to work?”

  “It has to,” Candy said.

  Charlie was skeptical that Garth would ever trust another woman after what his momma had done. Mona’s infidelity had occurred at a very impressionable time in Garth’s life. But he had seen with his own eyes that Garth treated Candy differently than he had other women. And Charlie had been the one to wash the bloodstained sheets that had told their own story.

  “All right,” Charlie said at last. “I ain’t gone on vacation yet this year. I’ll tell Garth I’m takin’ three weeks off. But that’s all. I ain’t missin’ the christenin’.”

  “I’d never ask you to do that,” Candy said. She gave the old man a kiss on the cheek and watched his ruddy face turn even ruddier. “Thank you, Charlie.”

  “Aw. Didn’t do nothin’.”

  “How soon can you leave?” Candy asked.

  Charlie chuckled. “I’ll be gone ’fore supper, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

  “Thanks again, Charlie.”

  “Good luck, girl,” Charlie said. As she left Charlie to run upstairs and change her clothes he muttered, “You’re gonna need it!”

  While she cooked supper, Candy went over in her mind the rest of what Garth had said about taming the stallion. Talk to him. Keep it soft, something soothing.

  Garth wasn’t in the best of moods that evening. As Candy set his plate in front of him he grumbled, “That old buzzard didn’t even give me a day of warning. Who’s going to do the cooking around here?”

  “I am.”

  Garth eyed her skeptically. “You can cook?”

  “Of course I can.”

  “You’ve already got enough to do. How are you going to handle any more?”

  “I’ll manage,” Candy said. “Don’t worry about me, darling.” Candy let the endearment drop in a husky, breathless voice.

  Garth looked at her sharply, but he didn’t deny her the right to call him by such a term. Candy joined him at the table and waited for the conversation t
o start. She soon discovered how much Charlie had contributed to the dinnertime talk. Charlie usually asked one or the other of them how the day had gone, and then they would answer him. Candy had never noticed before that she and Garth had been talking to Charlie, not to each other.

  Their time in the parlor after supper each evening had always been comfortable because they were together, even though very little dialogue passed between them. Candy recognized the importance of Garth’s lesson. She needed to talk to him, to establish some sort of communication with him beyond the exchange of knowledge that consumed their days and the lovemaking that consumed their nights.

  “Tell me what it was like growing up at Hawk’s Way,” she said.

  Garth seemed startled by the request. She was afraid for a moment he wouldn’t respond. Then he said, “There was a lot of work to do. I did it.”

  “There must have been some time for play,” Candy chided.

  “Not much,” Garth muttered.

  “But there were so many of you—your father and your brothers and sister—to do the work, and with the cowhands—”

  “We couldn’t afford hired help when I was growing up,” Garth interrupted.

  “Oh. Hawk’s Way is so large and successful now, I thought it must always have been like this.”

  “It’s always been a big spread,” Garth conceded, “but we’ve been through a lot of hard times. There’s oil on the property, but the bottom fell out of the market, if you’ll recall. We raised beef for a while, but that’s another market that isn’t too dependable. Then we took a chance on raising rodeo stock. It wasn’t until we started breeding and training championship cutting horses that we could afford any outside help.”

  “I had no idea,” Candy said. It gave her a whole different image of what Garth’s childhood must have been like.

  “I saw a picture of your father upstairs. You must miss him a lot.”

  An agonized look crossed Garth’s face and was gone so quickly Candy thought she must have imagined it.

  “He was a good father. Until my mother killed him.”

  “What? Faron told me three years ago that your father came off a bronc and broke his neck. Are you saying he lied?”

  Candy waited for Garth to answer her question, to explain his provocative statement, but his features turned stony and he remained mute. At least she knew now why there was no picture of his mother upstairs. Finally, she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.

  “I don’t want to intrude on what must be a painful episode in your life—”

  “Then don’t,” he said in a harsh voice.

  Candy reminded herself this was supposed to be soothing talk and decided to change the subject.

  “Tell me more about your brothers and sister.”

  Almost immediately his expression softened. “My brother Jesse’s a renegade,” Garth said. “We were too close in age, so we knocked heads after Dad died. Jesse left to find his own way.”

  “How long was he gone?”

  “It was years before we heard from him again. He was a Texas Ranger until he married a widow named Honey Farrell. Now he has two stepsons and a daughter of his own, and he and Honey run their ranch, the Flying Diamond, in southwest Texas.

  “My sister Tate is as independent as they come. Did you know she ran away from home?”

  “You must have been crazy with worry,” Candy said.

  “I was. But at twenty-three she decided she’d had enough of her overprotective older brothers.”

  “Twenty-three!” Candy gasped. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Garth said with a rueful laugh. “She was gone for a couple of months before my long-lost brother Jesse called out of the blue and told us Tate had moved in with some rancher in south Texas. My brothers and I showed up the next day and made things legal.”

  Candy was aghast. “You forced her to get married?”

  “She was pregnant,” Garth said flatly. “But it wouldn’t have mattered whether she was or not. She was an innocent when she met Adam Philips. He shouldn’t have taken advantage of her. Anyway, everything turned out all right. Tate and Adam are bringing their son, Brett, here to be christened.”

  Candy bit her tongue to keep from making the retort that leapt to mind. But if Garth wasn’t making the connection between Adam’s treatment of Garth’s sister and Garth’s treatment of her, she would be wasting her breath to point it out to him.

  “What about the brother I met three years ago, Faron?”

  “You mean my brother the lover?” Garth said with a chuckle.

  Candy laughed as she recalled the way Faron had flirted with her. “That’s the one. You said he was away on business. What kind?”

  A hard, closed look reappeared on Garth’s face. “Faron’s in Wyoming meeting his stepmother.”

  Candy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What? How can Faron have a stepmother if he’s your brother?”

  “You figure it out.” Garth’s tone of voice made it clear he was done with that line of discussion. He was also finished with supper. He picked up his plate and carried it out to the kitchen, leaving Candy sitting alone.

  She wouldn’t have called her efforts a total success, but she had learned more personal information about Garth over supper this evening than in all the time she had spent at Hawk’s Way. That achievement gave her the confidence to go on to the next step in Garth’s training program.

  You can start tempting him to come closer with something sweet. Sugar works. Leave it where he can find it at first. On the fence rail, maybe. Then make him come to you for it.

  Candy picked up her plate and headed for the kitchen after Garth. He had already rinsed his plate and stacked it in the dishwasher and was making himself a cup of coffee.

  “I’ll have one of those,” Candy said as she rinsed her own plate.

  Garth took out another mug and poured her a cup. He handed it to her, and she took a sip before setting it down on the counter. She walked up to Garth, put her hands around his waist and leaned her cheek against his chest.

  “Mmm. This feels good.”

  Garth said nothing. Candy’s hands slid down over the contours of his buttocks and back up the center of his spine to his nape, where she played with the hair that hung over his collar. She turned her face slightly and nipped his flesh through his shirt.

  “Sonofabitch,” Garth muttered.

  Candy released him and walked away as though she hadn’t felt the blunt ridge in his jeans. She used her hands to lever herself into a sitting position on the heavy oak table. Then she spread her knees and leaned back on her palms.

  Come and get your sugar, darling.

  Garth approached her slowly until he stood between her legs. He grasped her thighs and pulled her toward him until the heart of her was pressed to the heat of him. Then he pressed her shoulders down until she was lying flat on the table.

  When he comes to you for the sugar, you’ll have a chance to touch him. Take your time. Move slow. Don’t crowd him. Let him get to know you.

  Candy didn’t move a hair when Garth reached for the snap of her jeans. Nor did she take her eyes off him as the zipper rasped down. He placed his hand flat on her belly and slid his thumb down so it just grazed her mound. She gasped. But she let him have his way.

  He stepped back and pulled off her boots and socks. Then he reached his hands into the back of her jeans and began pulling them down. She lifted her hips slightly to help him. She lay before him naked from the waist down.

  His dark eyes were almost black, hooded with desire. A muscle jerked in his cheek. He was breathing hard, as though he had been running. She wasn’t breathing so well herself.

  He pulled her to the edge of the table again and spread her legs so that she was totally exposed to him. Candy resisted the urge to cover herself. Instead she reached out and covered his hands where they lay on her naked thighs. She trailed her hands up his arms.

  She knew what was coming. He left her plenty of time
to refuse as he lifted her up and lowered his mouth to kiss her nether lips. Her hands tightened on his arms as a thrill of pleasure raced through her. Her eyes never left his face as he made love to her in this new and very different way. The sensations were exquisite, unbearably exciting, unbelievably arousing. He possessed her totally, absolutely, bringing her to a climax so powerful she trembled afterward.

  She wanted to tell Garth what she was feeling. How wonderful the gift was that he had given her. But she couldn’t catch her breath, and wouldn’t have known what words to use anyway. She lay before him, her heart in her eyes, telling him in the only way she could that she loved him. That she wanted to spend her life with him.

  How long before I can put a rope on him?

  It’ll take time. Maybe a few weeks. A month. Six months. Maybe never.

  She managed to sit up. He was still standing between her legs. She reached out for the snap of his jeans but his hand was there to stop her. She waited to see what he would do. What he would say.

  He only muttered, “Sonofabitch.” Then he picked her up in his arms and headed upstairs. “Come on, woman. Let’s go to bed.”

  Garth loved Candy with his whole body, in every way he knew and some he made up on the spot. He had nearly gone crazy when she had loved him the same way he had loved her in the kitchen. It had been wonderful. Beyond anything he had ever imagined it could be. He could feel her waiting for the words of love. He could almost hear them ricocheting off the walls. But he didn’t speak them.

  Neither did she.

  Candy lay in Garth’s arms, replete. But not satisfied.

  When will I know for sure?

  You’ll know when you know. There’s no predicting these things.

  Candy had to figure out what it was that had made Garth so reluctant to commit himself to a woman. He had given her several clues. First, there was the fact that he had no picture of his mother anywhere in the house. Second, he had said that his mother killed his father. Finally, there was that story of Faron having a stepmother, because he had a different father.