Shadow of the Hawk [Wayback Texas Series]

by Judith Rochelle

  He held her in place, drinking from her like a man who hadn't tasted sweetness in forever. Which, to be truthful, he hadn't. Her warm breasts pressed against his chest, the hard buds of her nipples like twin flames of fire.

  She sighed, a puff of air in his mouth, and moved her head back a bare inch or two. But she didn't pull away.

  "Maggie.” The word was a soft caress.

  He pressed his face to her breasts, his mouth finding one nipple through the thin cloth of her blouse. When he pulled on it with his teeth he felt her entire body tighten. His hand moved up to cup the warm flesh, his mouth pulling her deeper into him.

  He felt his shaft thicken and harden, pressing against the denim of his jeans until he was afraid the zipper would slip open. Heat slid down his back and into his testicles, firing nerves long dormant.

  Jesus!

  "Hawk.” Her voice trembled. “This is insanity."

  "Is it? For who? Go ahead and tell me you don't want this, too, and it'll never happen again. Come on, Maggie. Let me hear it."

  * * * *

  At the touch of his mouth on her nipple her breast immediately felt full and heavy.

  Her brain was screaming at her to push him away. What could he do, after all, in his condition? He certainly couldn't chase after her. But the liquid heat that raced through her veins and weakened her knees made that impossible. She wanted this as much as he did. And that frightened her. Sex frightened her after Alex. Hawk thought he had nothing to offer her? He didn't know the half of it.

  She never should have brought him here. That first touch in the hospital should have been her warning. Some force field vibrated between them, making every one of her pulses throb and liquid arousal dampen her panties. She couldn't remember a time when just touching a man's hand made the hard knot at the top of her sex ache with wanting.

  Margaret Devereaux, you are a fool and an idiot. What would he say if he knew the real truth about your sex life? Would he want you then? And to feel this way about a man like Hawk Riley—true insanity.

  Hawk's hands were moving over her, touching her everyplace—her back, sliding down her legs, up to her rib cage and cupping her breasts in his warm palms. One hand dropped to her mound, pressing against it through the denim. His long fingers caressed the swollen lips. She was sure he could feel how soaked the fabric was.

  She gripped his shoulders, holding tight. Her leg, caught between both of his hard muscled ones, pressed against the bulging erection in his crotch. Sinuously she rubbed it back and forth.

  What the hell am I doing?

  "Maggie.” His breath was hot against her ear. “We need to take this out of the kitchen. And I swear to God, I don't know what I'm capable of in this condition."

  Reality suddenly slammed into her. “Hawk, listen. I don't think—"

  The slamming of the back door startled them both, and Maggie jerked out of his arms.

  "Miss Devereaux. It's Harley.” One of the hands working the Sunday daylight shift came charging through the utility room.

  "Shit.” Hawk mumbled the word under his breath as Maggie stepped quickly away from him.

  "What is it, Harley?” Maggie had her back to him, gathering the empty dishes and her wits at the same time.

  "Oh, sorry.” He looked from Maggie to Hawk to Maggie again. “I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

  "Mr. Riley and I were just finishing up in here. Is something wrong?"

  "Yes. No. I mean, that mare getting ready to foal seems a little skittish. I just wondered if you'd take a look at her and make sure everything's all right. I know the Pattersons paid a bunch to breed her."

  "No problem, Harley.” Hawk heaved himself up from his chair and balanced himself on his crutches. “We'll both come take a look. Maggie, go on ahead. I'll catch up with you."

  Every day the crutches had become easier and now he covered the ground to the breeding barn in a fair amount of time. When he got to the stall where the mare was, Maggie was inside, running her hand over the horse's flanks and murmuring softly to her.

  "She's okay,” she said. “It's just that her time's getting close. I'll call the vet in the morning and ask him to come by and take a look at her.” She gave Hawk a weak grin. “Sorry to make you come all the way out here for nothing."

  He didn't return the smile. “It's my responsibility, Maggie. That's what I get paid for. Right?"

  Harley slid his eyes from one to the other. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind.

  "Just keep an eye on her,” Hawk told him. “If you get worried again, call up to the house.” There was a direct line to the house in the breeding barn.

  "Yessir. I'll do that.” He took off at a run for one of the other barns.

  "I think you make him nervous,” Maggie commented.

  "As long as he does his job he has nothing to worry about. Right?"

  Maggie shoved her hands into her pockets. “Listen, Hawk. About before..."

  Carefully balancing himself, he reached out one hand and cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “It will happen, Maggie. I know it and so do you. Quit trying to run away from it.” He shook his head. “Go on back up to the house. I think I'll just sit here for a while and ... gather my thoughts."

  "But there's something I have to tell you.” A hint of desperation crept into her voice.

  "It's all right,” he said in a gentle voice. “Don't worry about it. Go on. I'll be up after a while."

  She was careful to avoid him for the rest of the day. Even at dinner, she placed his food in front of him, then told him she was going to eat in her room. He didn't try to stop her. Maggie had a lot to process. For that matter, so did he.

  Chapter Nine

  Monday morning Maggie drove Hawk to his doctor's appointment. Hawk checked with Charlie before he left, making sure everything was in order and the split shifts were still in place. He also checked with the instructors on their clients.

  "I'm impressed,” Maggie told him as they rode into town.

  Hawk grunted. “You must impress easily."

  She shook her head. “You could have slacked off on this. Gotten by with as little work as possible. Instead, you're about killing yourself to make sure things get done."

  "Yeah, well, don't make too much of it. It's just for the short term."

  This was his first opportunity to get a good look at Wayback. It could have been any other small town in Texas, but somehow there was a warmth here that was unmistakable. Maybe it was the way people stopped to chat with each other on the street. Or the smiles on people's faces.

  Rodeo signs were everywhere, small ones promoting the weekly events and huge banners with the legend “Wayback Grand Rodeo.” Two of them stretched across Main Street, one at each end. Window displays mixed fake turkeys and fall flowers with fancy western wear, and a store called Cow Patti's had little turkey heads peeping out of the handmade boots in the window.

  Thanksgiving and rodeo. Only in Wayback, Hawk mused.

  "You heal fast, Mr. Riley,” the doctor told him, checking the x-rays. “But then, looking at all the old mended breaks on these films, I guess you know that. One of these days your body's liable to rebel, though."

  "I'll keep that in mind,” Hawk told him.

  "I think we can change that cast on your leg to a walking one if you promise not to get too rambunctious. I'll give you a cane to help you with your balance."

  "I'll do my best.” Hawk grinned.

  "And we can change the one on your arm to a flexible plastic one. Just take care with those ribs. They look good but you don't want to fall and re-injure them. Next time might be a lot worse."

  "I'll be sure he's careful,” Maggie said. She nailed Hawk with a look that said Or else.

  When they were finally finished, they went by the newspaper. Hawk was acutely aware of the stares of the reporters and others as he and Maggie made their way to the editor's office in the back.

  Maggie introduced him to Dan Keats.

&nb
sp; "I understand congratulations are in order.” He grinned when they came into his office.

  Maggie pulled out a smile. “Thank you."

  Dan looked at Hawk. “You wouldn't be the same Hawk Riley that used to do a lot of bronc riding in the rodeos, would you?” he asked, shaking Hawk's hand.

  Hawk's face tightened. He didn't need this man bringing up his roughneck, drunken past, maybe putting something in the newspaper. “That was another century. And another Hawk Riley."

  Awareness flashed in his eyes. “Duly noted. I just meant I'd seen you ride before and admired you. Now.” He turned to Maggie, skillfully changing the subject. “What can I do for you, Mags?"

  "I know the weekly applications and flyers come off the printer at the rodeo office, but you did the package for the big one. Can you put some stuff together for us so Hawk can take a look?” When Dan's eyes slid automatically to the two casts, she added hastily, “He's working with the trainers to help get our clients ready. I just wanted him to have the information."

  Dan nodded. “Makes sense. Sure. Let me get you a package."

  Maggie thanked him and they left, Hawk clumping along beside her on his new cast.

  "I think this is a bad idea,” he said as soon as they were back in the SUV. “Anyone who knows anything about rodeos knows my reputation. Memories are longer than my arm. All that dirt's just going to splash off onto you. Not to mention the fact that everyone will think you've lost you mind with this supposed engagement."

  She rubbed her fingers over the ring he'd given her. “You let me worry about that. As long as you behave yourself they won't have anything to gossip about."

  "Drink in my room and do my whoring in another town, right?” He couldn't help the words falling out of his mouth, but cursed himself the minute he'd said them.

  Maggie turned a bright red. “That's right. I'm glad you remembered."

  For a minute he thought she was going to take off the ring and throw it at him.

  "Maggie.” He reached over and took her hand in his. “I'm sorry. That was not kind of me and I didn't mean it. Besides, the only woman I want is sitting right here beside me.” His eyes raked her body. “Like I told you, it'll happen. That's a promise, not a threat."

  "No, Hawk, it won't.” She bit her lip in the familiar habit. “There are things you don't know. And now is not the time for me to tell you."

  She pulled away from the curb with a screech of tires. Hawk just put on his sunglasses and stared straight ahead.

  "Wayback takes its rodeo seriously,” Hawk commented, as they passed even more large signs.

  "Very,” Maggie told him. “Wait until you see the facility."

  Hawk had to admit he was amazed when they drove onto the fairgrounds. For a town as small as Wayback, they'd invested a bundle. Of course, there were the weekend rodeos, just as many towns had. But this arena had been built for The Big One—the Wayback Grand Rodeo.

  The open arena itself was an oval made of adobe, filled with concrete and aluminum bleachers. At one end were the chutes where the animals were brought at the start of each event. At the top of the oval the flags representing the states of the competing cowboys flapped in the wind. Hawk even saw flags from Canada and Mexico. And above them all stood a flagpole bearing the Stars and Stripes and the Lone Star flags.

  Next to the arena were two buildings labeled rest rooms, and past that a fat square of adobe that bore the sign, “Rodeo Office."

  Off to the right was a paved picnic area with tables and benches, next to a long stretch of concession stands and a row of stalls for vendors. Today all the merchandise was stacked away, the roll-down gates locked in place. But come Friday he knew this place would be busier than the Riverwalk at Christmas.

  Cars and travel trailer and trucks of all kinds filled the parking lot and the area around the barns. The smell of horseflesh, leather and hay was sharp in the air. Horses were still being loaded into trailers and men in jeans and t-shirts hollered back and forth as they urged stubborn bulls into their big trailer trucks. Clearing out to make way for the next wave of riders, stock men, and others.

  "Most of the bulls and broncs are from local ranchers,” Maggie explained. “They breed them for the rodeo, but they don't charge as much as the big nationally-known ranches. “Those are the ones we use for the Grand Rodeo."

  Hawk saw Maggie's eyes light up with anticipation. It was obvious she loved this, and not just as a way to earn money. Rodeo was in her blood. Her body vibrated with excitement and he had a sudden urge to find a dark corner, strip her clothes off and bury himself in her as deep as he could get. And wouldn't that make a nice news item?

  "Come on, I'll introduce you to the rodeo director.” Maggie tugged on Hawk's arm. “He thought he was retired and could do this as a volunteer, but it's become a full-time job."

  They were almost to the building when the door opened and two men came out. Hawk stopped in his tracks.

  "Maybe this isn't the best day to do this,” he said.

  Maggie tilted her head, a curious look in her eyes. “Why not? I see the advance men from the association are here. You can meet them, too."

  "Not today,” he argued.

  But it was too late. The men had spotted the two of them and were walking toward them.

  "Hey, Maggie,” one of them called. “Good to see you again."

  "You change your mind and decide to compete this year?” the other one asked.

  She laughed. “That'll be the day. Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Hawk Riley. Hawk, this is Jim Kelley and Larry West."

  No one could have missed the shocked look on both faces. The taller of the two men, tall and lean with graying hair, recovered first.

  "Hawk and I know each other.” He held out his hand. “Been a long time."

  "Yes, it has.” Not wanting to embarrass Maggie, he forced himself to take the man's hand.

  "Good to see you again, Hawk,” the other man said. He also stuck out his hand.

  Then they all stood and looked at each other.

  Well, isn't this awkward?

  "I heard you weren't riding any more,” said Jim Kelley. “Just cowboying."

  "That's right.” Maybe if I don't say much they'll just go away.

  "You know, I never could figure out why suddenly you stopped competing in team penning and took on the wildest broncs you could find."

  "And it's really none of your business, is it?” He couldn't keep the hard edge out of his voice.

  "Saw your brother the other day,” Larry told him, watching his face as if for reaction.

  Hawk turned to Maggie. “Why don't I go wait in the truck for you?"

  Larry held up his hands. “Sorry, didn't mean to touch on a sore subject. We're just leaving, anyway. See you in a few weeks, Maggie."

  "What was that all about?” Maggie demanded, as soon as the two men were gone.

  "I think this whole thing is a bad idea. I'll figure out some way to pay you for all my expenses. Including boarding Jocko and getting my truck fixed. But we'd both be better off if I wasn't involved in this."

  "A bargain is a bargain,” she insisted. “And I'm holding you to it. I don't know what happened in your life, Hawk, but sooner or later you're going to have to face it. Take it from somebody who knows."

  "Maggie, I—"

  "No.” She cut him off. “Besides, there's Owen Grainger. Are you going to throw me on his mercy?"

  Shit!

  "You don't know what you're letting yourself in for."

  "That's my worry. Come on, I'll introduce you to Henry Garza."

  Henry looked like he'd been around rodeoing for a long time. Maybe around anything for a long time. His black hair was streaked with grey and his dark face was well-lined. But his brown eyes danced with mischief and his handshake was welcoming.

  "Heard Mags got herself engaged. Nice to meet you. You wouldn't be—"

  "Yes, I am,” Hawk cut him off. “And I'd really appreciate it if we could leave that behind." />
  Henry nodded, unperturbed. “No problem. Well, I suppose you want the details of how and what we'll be doing here. Have a seat."

  Two hours later, when they pulled away from the fairgrounds, Hawk knew everything he needed to about the upcoming major event. Maybe even more than he wanted to. Avoiding a lot of the people who'd be there would be tricky. He'd just have to work it out. Maybe he could just be sure everyone and everything at Mercy Creek was ready and haul ass away from here before things got going.

  "Would you like to have lunch in town before we head back?” Maggie asked. “Soak up some local color?"

  Would he? Before he could answer, Maggie's cell phone rang. Hawk watched her face pale as she listened to whoever was speaking.

  "All right. We're on our way back right now.” She snapped the phone shut. “We'll have to take a rain check on lunch."

  "Trouble,” he guessed.

  "You bet. Someone hired a crop duster to spray the north pasture with a poison. It's a good thing you have the guys out riding fences. They spotted the plane when it made its first pass and fired at it with their rifles. Didn't hit it, but they scared it off."

  "Damn,” Hawk swore. “That asshole really means business. You know, Maggie, I can't believe anyone would want your ranch, terrific as it is, badly enough to do all this. It just wouldn't be worth the effort."

  "You'd think,” she agreed. “I don't know what to tell you."

  Charlie was waiting for them in the parking area when they pulled up.

  "Nasty business.” His face was tight with anger. “I'm damn glad we didn't have any horses up there. And that the men chased him away before he could hit all the pastures. We'd be in a real fix then."

  "Where are the men who saw it?” Hawk asked.

  "Still out there. They called in on the radios."

  "All right. You and I will ride out there and talk to them. I need to go to my room for a few minutes. Then I'll meet you in the barn. Could you get someone to saddle Jocko for me?"

  "No problem.” He looked at the cane. “Making progress there."

  "Better than the crutches,” Hawk agreed. He held up his arm. “And a better cast on the arm. Okay, see you in a few."