Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk (Dark Cloth) (5 page)

No!

Mandy fought for her equilibrium, slamming her way back into reality. She sucked in huge breaths of air, fighting to calm her racing heart.

“What, Mandy?” Meg demanded.

Tears slid unheeded down Mandy’s face. “It is enough, yet there will be more. The price has already been too high.”

“It was self-defense, Mandy,” Meg reminded her.

Cord leaned forward, frowning hard at Mandy. “One of these days,” he bit out, “the two of you are going to let me in on your little secret.”

Meg gave him a completely innocent look, her brows raised in mock question. “What secret, Cord? I was simply saying that the sheriff would realize Hawk shot McKinney in self-defense. Do you believe differently?”

Mandy bit back a watery smile. Several times, Cord had been there when she’d had a vision. Several more times, he’d witnessed unusual occurrences. Each time, Meg had acted as though she hadn’t seen a thing, even when he’d demanded she admit that she had. Cord would have Meg’s hide when he finally learned the truth. And somehow Mandy knew . . .
he would learn the truth.

Cord growled under his breath. “True.” The look he pinned on Meg promised retribution. “But he’d been hunting McKinney for months. You know Tucker wouldn’t have cottoned to that. He’d have run him out of town.”

Meg glared at Cord, sitting forward in her chair. “He would have thought Hawk had done us all a favor,” she said—as if they were not sitting there leading a double conversation.

Cord’s eyes narrowed on Meg, reminding Mandy of an angry mountain lion. “Not Tucker! He’s too much by-the-book for that.”

Mandy watched Meg, waiting for her answer. As always, she watched these conversations between Meg and Cord with curiosity. She wondered how they could be so unaware of the chemistry they had between them. But whenever, she broached the subject with Meg—well, let’s just say Meg denied it with the same passion she was firing at Cord right now.

“He started it, did it for his own revenge, Cord,” Meg retorted. “But he did end up saving us! He didn’t have a choice in the end. It was self-defense!”

Mandy shook her head.

Cord’s jaw throbbed, a sure indication of his anger. He leaned closer, putting them nearly nose-to-nose in the small office space. “Yeah,” he stated evenly, “I, too, think Hawk could use a break.
I kinda like the man!”

Meg’s chin raised a notch. Her crystal-blue eyes lit with fire. “Yeah—well, I think he could
wind up being trouble
. But I guess we’ll have to
wait and see,
won’t we?” At that she seemed to catch herself. She looked at Mandy and flushed.

Mandy nearly smiled. Did they even realize they had wound up switching sides in their argument? She raised both eyebrows at Meg in an
I told you so
manner.

Meg went for the innocent, I-didn’t-see-that look. Leaning back in her chair, she stared at the floor, feigning deep thought before looking at Mandy. “But I want to know what plan you’ve got rolling around in your head this time.”

Mandy shook her head.
Oh, no, you don’t,
her eyes told Meg,
nice try
. And Meg blushed. She stood to give her friend a moment, though she knew Cord would not do the same. Walking to the door of Hawk’s room, she watched him for a moment. “I don’t know how this will all work out. The only thing I know for sure is, it’s meant to be.”

“Meant to be what?”

Mandy, with her back still to her friends, smiled—knowing the reaction
that
question would get him. She waited for the next round, but only heard him mutter,
“never mind”
under his breath. And she detected the word
women,
which went unsaid.

Mandy turned back. “One day, it will all be clear. But for now, you will have to trust—I know what I’m doing.”

Chapter Five

M
andy stood at the door of Doc’s office. She needed to get started in helping Hawk to heal. More than that, she needed a moment alone. She needed to think. Visions pressed behind her eyes. Visions she did not want to see. Visions she did not want to think about.
Visions of Hawk. Visions of children beside him. His children—her children.

Grandmothers, how can this be? What kind of future could we have? Hawk, having been raised by the Lakota and Cheyenne—I, having spent years with them. What will happen to us? Raising our children in a white man’s world—in the way of the Lakota.

“Mandy?”

“Yes, Meg.” She blinked hard to clear away the visions. Scrambling to pull her thoughts together, she hugged her childhood friend, wondering how to best answer, yet keep her from realizing how troubled she felt. “I’ve told Doc I’ll help him.” She stepped out on the boarded walk into the sunshine, her face away from Meg and Cord. “And you, Meg, already have to care for your grandmother, and you, Cord, your store.”

“Mandy . . .” Meg tried again. Then let her off the hook. “You’ll let me know if you need any help?”

Mandy smiled her relief. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured Meg. “Right now, I’m going to see to our patient. I’ll be over to see you when I can.”

Meg hugged her, and Mandy was grateful, knowing she had her friend’s full support. Cord also hugged her and left for his store, and Mandy went back into the office, firmly closing the door behind her. She stood a moment, her gaze fixed on the door, fighting the visions. Finally, with a shake of her head, she began straightening the office, then set about to make Hawk more comfortable. She cleaned up all traces of the operation and set about tucking him in. Finally she stood back, taking in his sleeping form.

The room shifted, and she stepped sideways to regain her balance. Blinking hard, she took in the walls around her. She stood in a room where the outside walls were made of large logs. Panic invaded her senses. Danger lay all around her. Running to the door, she tried to pull it open, but it was locked. She banged on the door, yelling for someone to help. She turned with her back to the door, wildly looking for a way out. A boarded-up window lay across the north wall. She ran up to it and tore at the boards to no avail. She stared at her fingers, her nails broken and her fingers bleeding. She swallowed hard—trying desperately to still the vortex of the tornado of fear that whipped her about—fighting to center herself.

But she didn’t know where the danger lay. She didn’t know which way to turn, which way to run.

And the Grandmothers’ voices seemed to be all around her, warning her to beware.

“Where are you, Mandy? Tell me what you see,” a voice commanded her.

Mandy’s gaze flew to Hawk’s, widening in surprise to see his frown.

She looked away, staring at the room around her. She stood in Doc’s clinic, in front of Hawk’s bed. She shook her head, gathering her senses. “How long . . . I mean . . .
how are you awake
? I saw the doc give you the dose of laudanum myself.”

He started to move, but seemed to think better of it. With a wince, he relaxed into his pillow. His lips pressed together for a moment, belying the depth of his pain. “He only did so for the sheriff’s sake.” He breathed through the discomfort. “He knew how I’d feel if he
really
gave me any of that . . . .” He scowled at the bottle of laudanum sitting on the table beside his bed.

Mandy shifted. His cold expression toward a harmless medicine left her little doubt about why any man would want to run if he were truly riled—then her mouth dropped open. “You know the doc?” She shook her head.

Hawk tried again to sit up, and then fell back, biting back a groan, his lips white around the edges. “Where were you, Amanda? You were in danger. I could feel it rolling off you. Where were you?”

She stood for a moment, not hearing him.

His deep voice pulled her back. “Mandy?”

The room seemed somehow disjointed. Her body unraveled. Several things came together in her mind all at once. She stood there, fighting his question and his uncanny ability to see right through her. “How long have you been awake?”

She gasped at him—realizing—a slow shock settling deep inside her. She could hide nothing from him. Where did that leave her?

“Come here, Amanda.”

Her feet seemed to move of their own accord. “Over here, where I can see you,” he said, when she would have stopped.

She moved to stand near him. When she reached his side, his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist, giving her a hard yank and throwing her off balance so she landed, hard, on his chest. He winced in pain, but his hand moved to hold her there with gentle, yet unmovable, bands of muscle.

She was caught, and she didn’t want to explore
that
idea too much.

“Where were you? His unusual green eyes were mere inches from hers. His breath fanned her face.

She could feel her heartbeat, mingling with the beat of his. Her pulse raced. Her own heart was beating an erratic rhythm in her breast, and she was sure he could feel it—and that it told him everything.

“Tell me, Mandy,” he whispered.

She went weak. A delicious headiness stole over her, curling in the pit of her stomach. A soul-deep need she couldn’t name coursed through her veins.

“Tell me about the vision you were having.”

“Tell,” she licked her lips, “you?”

That was her undoing, or maybe it was his. He crushed her lips to his in a powerful kiss. Light exploded in Mandy’s head. She could feel the heat from his body coursing through her own. With a sigh, she opened her mouth to him. He immediately plundered her soft sweetness, tasting her, sipping from her as
 if she were nectar.

Fully possessing her.

His hands moved over her back. One broke free and teased at her ribs before stealing around to stroke the sensitive flesh of the underside of her breast, and Mandy’s defenses were stripped from her. She only knew of the intense feelings he was creating in her.

The sound of someone clearing his throat caused them to jump apart, and Mandy stood quickly.

Hawk groaned.

Mandy bit her lip. She did not want to turn around and see who had caught them in such a compromising position.

“Bloody hell,” Hawk growled.

Mandy stared down at him, fractured. Doc loved that English expression. He had everyone in town saying it. Yet that thought was lost as her face went up in flames, and it took every ounce of strength she had to turn and face Doc Mallory.

But he only chuckled. “Maybe I should have given you the laudanum after all,” he directed at Hawk.

Mandy wished she could fade away, right there—or even faint—but she had never fainted in her life. Hawk, hurt as he was—and her—oh, what could Doc be thinking?

She knew what he must think.

And what had gotten into her anyway, letting him kiss her that way?

“He’s not a helpless boy, Mandy dear. That’s why I didn’t give him the laudanum. Do you remember the scars on his chest?”

Mandy only nodded, remembering the scars she’d seen during surgery. She let him talk. She needed the distraction. She did not tell him she’d seen those types of scars before.

“He has undergone the most painful ceremonies I’ve ever known. Those little bullet holes don’t measure up to that.”

Hawk scowled at him, and Mandy was amazed to watch the little man grin at him.

“When I met Hawk,” he went on, “he was only eighteen years old. He’d spent the last twelve years of his life with the Lakota. A white man’s disease had wiped out over half his tribe, including most of his family.”

“I’m sure she’s not interested in this, Mallory,” Hawk growled this at Doc, but he watched her, and his look promised he would know of the danger she had sensed.

She looked away, unable to meet his gold-green gaze. She wanted to cover herself as if she were stripped naked and standing before him. He seemed to look right through her—know all her secrets.

Doc chuckled. “Sure she is, look at her. Now let’s see, where was I?” he went on. “Oh yeah, Hawk had decided to find out about his old world, but he was dressed as an Indian. Look at him. Except for those unusual eyes of his, little would give him away.”

Hawk looked over and glared at Doc, but turned back before she could escape and continued to hold her captive, with eyes that seemed to see through to her soul. She stood, poised to escape like a small bird caught in the mesmerizing, green-gold gaze of a mountain cat who crouched, watching and ready to devour her the instant she moved.

She did not.

“His momma was Spanish,” Doc continued with his story. “His poppa, well, the only thing he’s ever said about him was he was a big man with blond hair and unusual spring-green eyes. He’s gotten something from each, as you can see for yourself.”

Then, Doc became serious, and he looked at the floor. “Anyway, when I found him, a bad bunch had gotten hold of him and taught him a whole new concept of pain. He was near death, and you’d have never recognized him.”

Mandy vaguely wondered what kind of pain could surpass Lakota ceremonies and bullet holes, and shuddered at the thought of him enduring it. Hawk gave her an unperceivable nod as if to say that she would know, with promised retribution, if she did not tell him what he wanted to know.