Rocky Mountain Cowboy (6 page)

“I was just teasing you,” he amended. “To see if I could get a rise out of you.”

“You did, didn’t you?” She smiled in chagrin.

He made a note of how she blushed and how pretty she looked doing it. “We should go into town tomorrow so you can get some real cowboy gear. I’ll show you where to get outfitted a
nd give you my expert advice.”

“That should be interesting. You giving
me
, the fashion designer, advice. So what time do you want to take me shopping?”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement and lingering challenge. It was good to see her smile. She had a beautiful one. “We can grab some lunch, do some chores, then go shopping,” he answered, thinking an outing might do her some good. “The attorney Tom and I use for the ranch is coming over to the house after dinner tomorrow evening. He’s bringing Tom’s will.”

All the pain came rushing back in a shocked gasp as she spun to fully face him. “Daddy had a will? He didn’t tell me he had made a will. When did he make it?”

“A month ago,” Hawk answered, regretting the return of her grief. He was determined not to get into the details of the will until tomorrow, after the attorney informed her of its contents. Then they could discuss the future of the ranch. She needed another day to come to terms with her dad’s death. Hell, she needed longer than that, but unfortunately ranch business couldn’t wait that long.

“You knew about it?” When he nodded, she demanded, “Why didn’t I know? My God, did Daddy know he had a bad heart? Did you?” Accusation and anger rang in her voice, while tears began to brim in her eyes.

“I
had no clue Tom had a bad heart.” He got up to go to her. “Maybe he knew and simply kept it from us— so we wouldn’t worry.” He’d told her this last night but apparently she didn’t recall it.

A sob tore from her. She rocked on her heels and wrapped her arms around
herself, holding those pieces together again. “My God, he made a will a month ago!” she exclaimed. “He must have known.” Her head fell back, and she looked up at the beamed ceiling. “He should have told me. He should have....” The tears streamed down her cheeks, and she bit her lower lip to try to stem them.

Hawk pried her hands from her arms and held them in his. “Don’t torture yourself, Jenny. Tom wouldn’t have wanted you to let the grief eat you up like this.”

She dropped her forehead onto his shoulder, overwhelmed. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop crying.”

She’d told him that last night, too. “Give it time, honey.” Pulling her into his arms, he held her closely and stroked her back.

Jenny felt such relief in his strength and warmth, she was loathe to step away. The empathy and understanding between them over Tom’s death had gotten stronger since the funeral, and she was beginning to depend on his steady reassurance. Her memories of last night were fuzzy, but she was certain she never would have fallen back to sleep without his presence. He’d been so gentle, so compassionate, so incredibly comforting.

Lost in recollections of him lying beside her in bed and perfectly content to remain in his arms now a little longer, she failed to hear the front door open. Voices in the entry way alerted Hawk, though. He stepped away from her just as Peter Mason and Cindy Caldwell walked into the room.

Jenny wiped her eyes and rushed to acknowledge her business partner. “Hey, Peter. I was wondering if you were coming back tonight.”

He
shot her a cynical look. “Were you? You look.... a bit occupied... again.”

Jenny glanced at the blonde beside him. The woman looked decidedly displeased. “How was your day? Did you have a pleasant visit?”

“How was yours? I see you finally got out of bed. Must have had a long night of it, huh?”

Jenny raised a quizzical eyebrow, a touch dismayed by his rude, challenging tone. She
had the feeling he was baiting her about something. “I didn’t sleep well ...”

She never got to finish the explanation. Peter cut her off with a snide laugh. “I guess not. Seems you had a little company.”

“Peter, what on earth?”

“Company in your bed,” he supplied. “When I came back from the bunkhouse, your bedroom door was ajar. I saw him in bed with you, Jenny,” he elaborated with a terse nod in Hawk’s direction.

“You slept with her?!” Cindy repeated in an elevated voice full of dismay.

“Mason, that’s enough!“ Hawk cut in, his blue eyes flashing with fire. “I told you this morning what that was about. Now drop it.”

Dressed in tight expensive designer jeans and a red cashmere, low-cut sweater, Cindy Caldwell turned to Hawk angrily. “I need to talk to you,” she commanded. “Alone.”

Hawk obliged her with a nod and a wave of his hand. “After you,” he indicated, pointing the blonde toward the room Tom had always used as his office. After Cindy disappeared through the double doors, he turned back to Peter.

“Remember your manners, Mason. Jenny’s got enough to deal with.”

As a warning, it was not well received by Peter. “Worry about your girlfriend, Chief.”

Hawk took a step toward him, anger openly etched on every feature.

Appalled by Peter’s bigoted comment, Jenny rushed over to step between the men, then raised her hand to stop Hawk’s advancement. “Let me handle this. Go talk to Miss Caldwell. I’m okay.”

He studied her for a moment to assure himself she’d be okay, then went into the study, closing the doors behind him. Once they were alone, Jenny turned to Peter. “That was incredibly rude of you. You’re a guest in this house. You had no right to make a scene like that in front of ...”

“His girlfriend,” Peter provided emphatically. “Like in long term girlfriend.”

“Well.... Whatever she is, you over-stepped the bounds of good manners.” The fact that her suspicions about Cindy Caldwell’s relationship with John Red Hawk Larson were confirmed filled Jenny with sharp, inexplicable disappointment.

“So, what in the hell is going on between you and the half-breed?”

“Peter, why are you using these racial slurs? I never figured you for a racist.”

“That’s what he is, according to Brad Caldwell, half-white, half-Indian,” he defended stubbornly.

“Just because Caldwell calls him that doesn’t make it right, Peter. I thought I knew you to be fairer than that.”

“He’s an interloper, Jenny.”

“He was my father’s legal business partner.”

“Legal maybe, but not ethical.”

Jenny sighed tiredly, and moved back to the fireplace and its warmth. “I’m not having this conversation with you tonight, Peter.”

“Then at least tell me what he was doing in your bed,” he demanded.

“Nothing— nothing at all.”

“Bullshit!”

“It wasn’t sexual, Peter,” she tried to explain. “I had a nightmare about Daddy…”

“And Stud Galahad just happened to wake you from your dreams and fall into bed with you?”

That nightmare about her dad had opened all the floodgates she’d been trying to hold at bay. She remembered most of last night, especially crying her heart out in Hawk’s arms. And she knew she had asked him to stay. He understood her grief, the loss she’d suffered. He had suffered it, too. His physical and emotional strength alleviated the despair, the emptiness she felt. She found relief in his compassion. He made her feel less lost. Beyond that, she wasn’t going to analyze last night too deeply. The scene in front of his girlfriend was extremely embarrassing, though. She hoped she hadn’t made too much trouble for him. She wondered if she should talk to Cindy Caldwell, but what would she say to her if she did? The mutual grief Jenny and Hawk shared was a private thing. She wasn’t going to let Peter turn it into something it wasn’t.

“I was a mess after the funeral,” she elaborated. “Not that you noticed. You haven’t been around.”

Peter managed to look guilty for a second, then grew angry again. “So, you hop into bed with the hired help?”

“Dammit, Peter! I just explained what happened, and Hawk is not the hired help. It’s over. Just let it go.”

“What did Cindy Caldwell and I just walk in on, then? You were in the guy’s arms.”

“I was upset! We had been talking about Daddy, wondering if he knew before his attack about his bad heart. He made a will a month ago. He must have known— he must have.”

“More likely Mr. John Red Skin Larson knew Tom was dying and played his cards right, so he’d end up with the whole ranch. Now, all he has to do is seduce you so you won’t make any protests. He’s using your grief as a means of controlling you.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Peter, that’s absolutely ridiculous! Daddy would never have done business with the man you’re describing! And
its Red Hawk, not Red Skin,” she corrected angrily. “Stop being insulting.”

“Tom was old and ill, Jenny. Old people get taken advantage of all the time.”

“My father was not old and incapable,” she amended. “He was a very intelligent man, and he treated Mr. Larson like a son, loved him like a son. They knew each other for over twenty years.”

“So, how is your interest protected? Or do you even have an interest?” Peter grilled her as if she already had all the answers. “And where does all this leave us, Jen? What about
our
business?”

Jenny had no answers, didn’t even know what questions she had, and was definitely in no frame of mind to come up with any this evening. The will, the status of the ranch, even her plans for tomorrow were simply too much to cope with a day after burying her father.

“I don’t know, Peter! I just haven’t thought about anything, except....”

“Mason, drop it— now.”

The quiet, steel-edged voice came from the front entryway. Jenny spun around to see Hawk closing the door. Apparently Cindy Caldwell had just left. As he walked into the room, Peter turned to face him belligerently.

“I say we discuss this. Get your cards out on the table, Larson.”

“And I say you’ve done enough talking about things you know nothing about. It doesn’t look to me as if Jenny needs this tonight. The attorney will be by tomorrow. That’s soon enough.”

Both men were now standing angrily within a few feet of one another, and Jenny did not want a fight to erupt between them. “Peter, Mr. Larson asked you to drop it, and I’m asking you to drop it for now. We’ll talk about our future later, after tomorrow night. I’m tired. I’m going to bed, and I’d like you to go, too. None of us need this hassle right now.” When he failed to respond, she saw Hawk move closer. “Please, Peter.”

Glaring at Hawk, then looking at her, he finally relented with an angrily muttered “Fine,” and headed up the stairway. When he was gone, Jenny turned to Hawk.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Larson.”

He gave her a brief smile. “Jenny, call me Hawk— please.” He emphasized the please with a broader smile, a smile she had to respond to.

“Okay, from now on its Hawk.” She moved closer to him. “I’d be happy to explain to your girlfriend about last night, Hawk. She looked pretty upset.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And I took care of things. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Jenny nodded, then turned

toward
the stairs. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

CHAPTER 5

Shopping was interesting; an unexpected relief, for a few hours, from the crippling heartache. The ride into town was very different from the one two days ago .
The rain left everything glistening and sparkling beneath a clear blue sky and bright sun. The storm had finally passed, and late summer returned to the high Rocky Mountain valley with lazy splendor. The mountains and national forest that enclosed the valley were spectacularly brilliant today, lush and green, with craggy bare tops peeking above the tree lines, shadowed in places by the big fluffy white clouds floating over them.

A good highway
circled the valley, connecting it to the bigger metropolitan area of Colorado Springs, several hours away to the east. To the northwest lay Leadville, the legendary mining town, and to the northeast, Denver. There were towns at either end of the valley, both larger than the smaller ones that were scattered here and there, some no more than a few buildings and a postal stop.

Homes with smaller acreage dotted the valley, many along the rushing headwaters of the Arkansas River that bisected the valley. In between, there were lots of cattle ranches, similar in size to her father’s. At this time of the year, most of the cattle herds were still up in the mountains grazing on federal lease land. In the next few weeks, before the snow hit, they’d be brought down to spend the winter closer to home.

Jenny had nearly forgotten the awe-inspiring magnificence of it all. Here, there were no freeways, bisecting and trisecting one another, spinning off into endless loops and directions of even more endless noise and traffic. Life was slower, quieter, infinitely more peaceful. If it became too difficult, one only had to look up at the timeless durability of the granite monoliths surrounding the valley. Millenniums of timelessness. The soul was nourished here, and Jenny felt hers stir a little. This day, home almost felt welcoming. Maybe, she thought on the ride into town, there was a possibility here, after all.