Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk (Dark Cloth) (28 page)

Her Aunt Lydia smiled. “He’s doing great. Grouchy as usual.” She grinned.

Mandy sagged in relief. “What else did they do?”

“They burned two line shacks,” Lydia said gently. “And cattle have been disappearing faster than we can keep up with them.”

Mandy felt sick to her stomach. “He’s going to ruin me,” she whispered.

“Like hell!” Hawk growled, and she jumped. He strolled towards her. “You’re a fighter, Mandy.” Reaching her, he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Now stand up and fight.”

“We’ve been fighting.” Her voice was hollow. “And look what happened.”

“We’ve only just begun to fight.”

She bit her lip and looked at him. She looked so tired, and it made Hawk angry.

“What are you going to do?” she finally asked.

“First thing I’m going to do is go out and have a talk with Jake. We’ll figure out where we go from there.” He placed his Stetson back on his head and adjusted it. “I won’t be back ‘till tomorrow.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

M
eg showed up early the next morning. “Lord, Mandy, don’t ever do that again,” she breathed. “You scared ten years off my life.”

Mandy dimpled and hugged her friend. “It’s good to see you, too. I’m so glad you came; I’ve got so much to tell you.” She pulled Meg into the kitchen.

Ned had been taken to Doc Mallory, and Meg updated her on his condition as they sipped on tea. “He’s going to be okay, Mandy. It was mainly surface bruising and scratches, though patches of his hide were peeled off.”

Mandy breathed a sigh of relief.

“What about you?” Meg asked. She dimpled. “How are you and Hawk coming along?”

Mandy blushed, giving everything away. “Things are wonderful. Heck, they’re better than wonderful!”

“Does that mean . . . ?”

“He loves me,” Mandy answered, tears in her eyes.

Meagan rolled her eyes, dramatically. “Well, I could have told you that, you dolt. I tried to tell you when you were beaten up by that no-good McCandle. He mooned over your bed as if he were a lovesick cowboy.”

Mandy blushed. “I know you did, but I couldn’t see it.”

“So how are things with the Lakota?”

“They’re doing as well as can be expected, but I don’t think it will last long.” Her eyes were sad. “However, all my friends were all grown up, and I had a wonderful time.”

Mandy poured her friend some tea and refreshed her own cup.

Meg took a sip. “I heard Hawk’s related to the McCandles. The news about floored me.”

Mandy scowled in answer.

Seeing it, Meg made a face at her. “You already said it, remember; he hates Ashley more than you do.”

“I know.”

Meg’s eyes narrowed on her. “Oh, I see.” She set her cup down on the saucer and folded her hands. “You can’t handle whose blood runs through his veins.”

“I’m getting used to it,” Mandy countered, her tone warning Meg she was in dangerous territory.

“Really,” Meg said, sardonically. “And how do you think he feels?”

Mandy’s heart dropped to her stomach. “I’ve been selfish, haven’t I?”

Meagan readily agreed, and within minutes the two women were laughing together, like they had as children.

Mandy sat in her favorite comfortable chair, in front of the fireplace. It felt wonderful to be home, she thought, sipping on a cup of tea. She snuggled deeper into the chair, sighing with pleasure. When she looked up, Hawk was leaning against the door jamb, watching her.

“Come with me,” his husky voice settled over her, strumming something vital and alive inside her.

“Mmmm.”

He took her hand, pulling her gently out of the chair. Picking her up, he carried her up the stairs. Inside the bedroom, Mandy looked around at the tub of steaming, scented water, with drying towels lying close by. Candles sat burning on the highboy—and around the room.

“Oh, Hawk,” she whispered, her eyes shimmering with tears. “How did you manage to sneak in here and do all this?” She indicated the room.

Hawk smiled and slowly undressed her. He picked her up and set her in the scented water. Mandy sighed as the water closed around her. Her body relaxed as Hawk soaped up a rag and ran it over her skin. Inch by inch, with slow sensual movements, he washed her. All the while, Mandy sighed—even wept a little. When he finally lifted her from the tub and dried her, she was frantic with her need of him. That night, he made tender love to her. Talking to her—loving her again—and again.

Very early the next morning, Mandy rolled over with a sated sigh. When her hand touched empty sheets, she sat up with a frown. She slipped out of bed and dressed, apprehension filling her for some unexplained reason.

She found Hawk and Kid downstairs, already eating breakfast. “You two are up bright and early.” She frowned.

Hawk came across the kitchen, kissed her, then poured her a cup of coffee. “I thought you might want to sleep in.”

“We’re going to check out the trail leading to the cliffs,” Kid told her around a mouthful of biscuit.

Hawk scowled at him.

“What?” Kid asked innocently.

Mandy’s brows shot up. “Where you got shot at?”

Hawk gaze pinned her. “Who told you about that?”

Mandy placed her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t matter who told me,” she railed at him. “That’s where you’re going, isn’t it?”

Hawk set his cup down and strode purposely towards her.

“Oh, no.” Mandy evaded him, going around the table. “Not this time.”

“Mandy!”

Kid chuckled.

They both glared at him.

He held his hands up. “Pretend I’m gone.”

Hawk took a threatening step towards him, and Kid shot out of his chair, laughing. “Touchy.” He left the kitchen.

“I’m going with you.”

“Mandy . . . .”

“I’m going with you!”

“Who’s your Cheyenne friend?”

Mandy sighed with exasperation.

“All right,” Hawk caved in. “You can come.”

“Thank you.” Mandy laughed, and ran to get ready.

“I’ve really got it bad,” Hawk growled.

The sun was beating down, and the air heavy, when they finally hit the trail near the canyon. It was turning out to be a very warm autumn. Mandy hoped it would cool off soon, since they still had a lot of calves to brand. They were spread out so far, they were forever flushing out mavericks. And branding was a hot, dirty job as it was, without the sun adding to it.

Damn Ashley McCandle’s hide, anyway. He’d managed to put them weeks behind. Cattle continued to disappear on a regular basis, and they couldn’t seem to pick up a clue where they were going.

That’s why Hawk had been checking out the canyon, before he’d had to follow her to the Lakota village. He’d seen tracks leading towards there, periodically, for no good reason. Especially since the canyon appeared to be a dead end. At least, that’s what everybody in the area thought it to be.

Now, they were beginning to wonder. It had been a two-hour ride, and Mandy was anxious to see what they were going to find.

She needed answers. Time was running out. The cattle needed to be brought in and sent on down to market. They needed to get ready for winter.

It was all getting close—too close.

They had reached a fork in the trail, taken the one more beaten down from use, and started a steep climb up through the rocks. Occasionally, the trail took them right next to the edge. If this was it, there had to be another way in, because there was no way McCandle was bringing a bunch of cattle up through here.

She looked down over the edge as they once more came perilously close. It was a long way down. One slip and . . . .

Hawk drew to a halt and peered at the trail. “Well traveled, I’d say,” he muttered.

“Is this where you were shot? Mandy looked around.

“Yeah,” Hawk squinted up the trail. “I’ve got a gut feeling this leads to all our answers.” He looked down over the cliff again. “Or our deaths,” he muttered.

“Well, come on,” Mandy shivered, “we won’t know anything standing here.”

Kid looked around. “I’ve got a gut-feeling, too,” he said in low tones.

Mandy jumped at the sound of a gunshot, turned, and saw Hawk fall over the cliff.

Screaming, she scrambled off her horse. Kid’s arm closed around her waist a split second before she would have gone over the cliff after him.

She fought like a wild cat. “No, no, no . . . Let me go. He’s hurt. We have to help him. He’s hurt. Let me go!”

She never saw the rifles that surrounded them. Kid never stood a chance in stopping them. He had all he could do to keep her alive.

She went to her knees, screaming. She never knew when a rifle butt knocked Kid unconscious, was unaware of the hand that hit her so hard she was nearly rendered senseless. She knew only of her need to get to Hawk.

She wouldn’t remember, until much later, how she fought when they set her on her horse and lashed her hands to the saddle horn. She never saw the toughened men who shook their heads, half afraid to touch her, muttering how her grief had left her touched.

She knew only that she had to get to her love.

She rode staring straight ahead, unblinking, while they led her deep into a hidden canyon, which led to a valley.

Some hours later, someone yanked her off her horse, not bothering to catch her when she hit the ground hard. They hauled her to her feet and pushed her forward toward a huge ranch house. When she looked into the face of Ashley McCandle, she jerked out of her catatonic stupor.

She lunged at him as if she were a mad woman. “Damn you!” she screamed, her bound hands slamming into his chest with force of two women. “You murdering bastard, as the Goddess is my witness, I swear I will kill you.” She hit him again. “I will kill you!”

She was pulled, brutally so, off of him. Someone backhanded her, and this time she was rendered senseless.

Ashley hit the man responsible with bone-cracking force. “I told you, she was not to be harmed.”

The cowhand propped himself up on one elbow, and wiped the blood from his lip with his free hand. He knew better than to say one word in his own behalf when McCandle was like this. It would only enrage his boss further. He got up, dusted off his hat and limped away, leaving Mandy lying there, in the dirt.

A man on a dark horse rode in along the canyon wall. He’d been hunting—but now, hearing the distant gunfire—he turned his horse in the direction of the sound.

He wore a breech-cloth and beaded leggings. His hair flowed down past his waist. His jaw was hard. His eyes were dark, and women would say, beautiful.

He was Tsisastas, Cheyenne, from the beautiful people. And he had returned with a warning from the teachers, who sent their warning—from the
Grandmothers.

Chapter Thirty

W
hen Mandy woke, her head was throbbing. She gingerly reached up and touched her jaw, her fingers running lightly over the bruised swelling. With full reality dawning, the past few hours flashed before her eyes like a bad dream. Wave after wave of pain rolled over her until she screamed.

Grief tore through her and she sobbed, gut-wrenching sobs, which shook her to her depths, leaving her empty when they were gone. She couldn’t believe Hawk was gone, couldn’t accept it. She needed him to hold her, comfort her.

He would never do so again.

Ashley was unfortunate enough to walk through the door when she’d reached anger. With a hideous scream, she attacked him for the second time that day, beating him, kicking him, clawing his face.

He backhanded her, sending her flying against the far wall. Her head cracked against it, and she slid to the floor. He walked over and yanked her up, and with a single rip, tore her blouse from top to bottom. For the first time, Mandy was afraid.

He was going to finish what he’d started that day in the barn, weeks ago.

And this time, Hawk wasn’t there to rescue her.

When he came at her again, she viciously slapped him. Welts immediately rose, outlining her fingerprints. With a violent yank, he tore her skirt from her. Piece by piece, he tore every inch of clothing from her body while she fought him, until she stood, trembling with rage—and totally naked.

“Ashley!” Star Flower yelled from the door.

He rounded on her. “Stay out of this!”

Star Flower raced across the room and grabbed him. “Ashley, stop this!” she yelled.

He viciously slapped her. Picking her up by one arm, he dragged her through the doorway. He left the room just as quick, pulling the door shut behind him before she could gather herself. She heard the scrape of metal of a key turning in the lock.

“No! Don’t lock me in here. You bastard, don’t lock me in!” Mandy screamed. “There are no windows! Ashley . . . .” She beat on the door, crying and hitting it.