Rocky Mountain Cowboy (10 page)

A couple of miles from the house, at the edge of a thick stand of aspen trees getting ready to turn their burnt gold autumn colors, Hawk brought the truck to a stop. The
wire fence that ran along the tree line was down.

“We use this area for winter pasture,” Hawk explained as he opened his door and swung out. “The cows can’t go in until the fence is fixed.”

Jenny grabbed her new red work gloves, pulled them on, then got out and met Hawk at the rear of the truck to help him unload the materials they’d need to repair the broken fence. He handed her the cutters and the stretcher, then hefted the roll of wire out of the back of the truck and carried it over to the break in the fence line on one shoulder.

She followed him, admiring the way his heavy cotton shirt stretched taunt over his broad shoulders. She
’d seen the strength in his long, work-muscled frame. He’d hefted those heavy bales of hay, almost effortlessly slinging them onto the flatbed truck. Now he carried the large roll of wire without as much as a grunt.

After laying that down, he went back for the posts.

Jenny took out the post hole digger. When it was all laid on the ground, they both stared at the damaged section of fence line.

“Thi
s was deliberately destroyed.”

Jenny agreed. “It looks like someone cut the wire and smashed the posts.”

Hawk walked over to one of the downed fence posts. It had been pulled up and run over. Splinters of wood were scattered on the ground around the tire tracks. The next post down the line had received the same treatment.

Hawk started to clear the broken fencing out of the way.

“Who would do this? Kids? Vandalism?”

As he threw one of the broken posts away, off to his side, he shot her a look over his shoulder. “Someone working for Brad Caldwell.”

“Mr. Caldwell? Why?”

Hawk frowned at her note of disbelief. “Remember I told you the other night about the three hundred acres in the upper northwest quadrant of the ranch that he wants?” While he worked, he talked, and Jenny followed him to listen. “Tom and I wouldn’t sell it to him, but he won’t take no for an answer. I think he’s trying to force us into selling by having someone vandalize our equipment and property. It costs money to keep replacing and repairing things. We had to get another equipment loan just to buy the baler. It’s beginning to hurt financially.” With all the old fencing cut away from the salvageable part, Hawk picked up the post hole digger.

“How long has this been going on?” Jenny asked as he started to dig.

“Over six months.”

“Can you prove Brad Caldwell is doing these things?”

As he shoved the post hole digger down into the damp ground, anger and frustration were evident in every thrust and pull of the tool. It wasn’t long before sweat broke out on his face and across the back of his cotton shirt. Jenny watched him attack the ground like he wished it was Brad Caldwell who was the recipient of all his ire.

“No, I can’t prove a damn thing,” he told her tersely. “If I could, I’d be filing charges. Brad would never risk doing the damage himself. I have my suspicions about who his hired vandal is, but I haven’t been able to catch him at a thing.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Steve Walker.”

“My god, the Steve who works here, on the ranch? Why is he still here then?”

“I’m hoping to catch him at something and tie it to Caldwell.”

“But you’re not sure it’s him?”

“I can’t prove anything,” he repeated in aggravation and jammed a new post into the hole he’d just dug.

Jenny held it for him while he filled dirt in around it. “Eli told me a little about your situation with the Caldwells. What was it like living with them as a boy?”

He stopped working, leaned on the post, and stared at her. “I was nearly fourteen when Judge Caldwell sentenced me to his ranch. He used his juvenile court to staff his place. The teenage boys he provided a foster home for worked their tails off for him. His discipline included regularly scheduled fights between the boys to toughen them up, although they were really nothing more than sadistic entertainment for the judge. One of the older boys was a knife fighter. You got in the ring with him, you learned real quick how to weld a knife, too. I got cut up pretty badly a couple of times, then learned how to hold my own. I met Tom at the Boy’s Club, where I went to learn how to box.”

“Dad knew about these fights?”

“Yeah. He made me tell him what was going on after I came over beat up and cut up a few times.”

“Eli said that he finally got the Judge to stop using his juvenile court and his foster care that way.”

Hawk grinned. “Tom did a little arm twisting of his own with old man Caldwell, and he helped me get away from there finally.”

“How did Brad Caldwell feel about his father bringing all those boys home?”

“He hated it. But he really hated me. The Judge liked using me, in particular, to get his son pissed off enough to fight. George Caldwell was always stirring the pot between Brad and me. It was one of his favorite past times.”

“He sounds like an awful man.”

“He died five years ago,” Hawk informed her coldly. “And he was a sonofabitch. Like father, like son.”

“So that’s the root of your problems with Brad Caldwell, old rivalries. Good thing you met Tom.” Jenny now understood more clearly why the young John Red Hawk Larson had had such a huge chip on his shoulder. When he had first come to the Bar F all those years ago, he had been sullen and silent. He’d barely spoken to her dad, let alone
to her.

“Yeah, I may have roomed and boarded at the Caldwells, but the Bar F was home, and Tom was the only man I ever thought of as a father.”

“I remember you coming over to hang out, you know. You had a lot of attitude.”

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, remembering the kid he’d been then. “Yeah, I was pissed off at the world, and headed for the Boy’s Home. Tom saved my ass.”

And what a nice ass it
was,
she thought wickedly, sneaking a peak, remembering him in a towel. “I was jealous of you for a little while, but Daddy told me you needed a friend. He asked me to share him with you a little.”

Hawk stared at her pensively. “And I remember envying you— for having Tom as your father.”

“You never knew your real dad?”

“No. He took off right after I was born, I guess. My mother ran away from the res in her teens. All she ever told me about my dad was that he was white, that he was a rodeo cowboy, and that they had actually been married for six months.”

Jenny didn’t know what to say. It was a sad story, and it hurt to think of how lonely Hawk must have been after losing his mother, then having no family claim him. Tom had never told her all of Hawk’s history. Now that she’d heard it, she was glad her father had been there for him.

“So you think Caldwell’s causing all this trouble because he hated you as a kid?”

“Partially. But all the problems we’ve had around the place have happened since Tom and I made it clear we wouldn’t sell Caldwell the land he wants. Brad is Chairman of the Board at the bank that is holding the mortgage and loans on the ranch. If we default, the place goes into foreclosure, his bank’s foreclosure. Who do you think would pick the place up in a heartbeat, then? Brad’s got a hell of a motive, and I don’t have any other enemies that I know of, nor did Tom. I don’t believe in coincidence, either.”

“What are some of the damages you’ve had around here?”

Hawk began stomping the dirt in around the posts. “Broken fence lines, like this,” he indicated with a sweep of his gloved hand. “Hay bales broken and spilled. Irrigation lines cut, leaving water pouring out, wasted. Damaged equipment, like the baler and the loader and the tractor. One day they were working fine. The next, they were shot. Lost cattle.”

“Lost cattle?” She followed him to the next damaged post.

“Most of the stock has been brought in from the summer graze to pasture around the old line cabin until we bring them down. The head count is off.”

She handed him the post hole digger, and he began vigorously digging the second hole. “What does
off
mean?”

“
It means cattle we had or should have had, but can’t find now, mostly calves, probably those born over the summer.” With a muttered curse, he set the new post into the hole, then began to fill dirt in around it.

“Don’t you lose some to wild animals up here?”

“Some, but not fifty head.”

“Fifty head?” Jenny was stunned. “My god!”

“Yeah, but God doesn’t have anything to do with this. Neither does Mother Nature.” With an angry yank, Hawk made sure the post was in the ground securely. “We‘re still rounding cattle up. Some of those missing might still turn up.”

But Jenny could hear the doubt in his voice. “And if they don’t, that’s a lot of money to lose.” She was beginning to think she’d better have a look at the ranch’s books.

“Tell me about it. After replacing the baler, fixing the tractor, and buying new irrigation lines, plus a bunch of other smaller problems, fifty head will put us in big trouble if we can’t find them.”

“I want to help.”

“No, it’s too dangerous for someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing. Let me handle it. Just hand me the wire stretcher and the hammer.”

Hawk seemed to think she meant with stringing the very sharp barbed wire. “I mean that I want to help with money,” she
corrected him as she handed him what he wanted. Unfortunately, she got too close to the wire and ripped her shirt. She didn’t realize she’d also torn the skin underneath— until blood started to soak her sleeve.

Hawk saw immediately what she had done and swore vehemently. “Shit! Didn’t I just tell you....
Lord, look at your arm!” He pulled a clean handkerchief from his back pocket, ripped her shirt away from the rapidly bleeding wound and proceeded to very efficiently bind it.

Jenny looked at the blood soaking through the make-shift bandage, slightly
bemused. “It doesn’t hurt.” She could tell by looking at him, though, that he was really angry at her. “It was just an accident. I was only trying to help.”

Pressing down on the wound, he finally got the bleeding to stop. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know— when I was a kid.”

“Shit!” He repeated the four letter curse yet again as he picked up his tools. “Let’s get into town and get you to the emergency room. You need a tetanus shot, probably a couple
of stitches.”

“It can wait. The fence is almost done. Finish it, first,” she tried to convince him. “You stopped the bleeding.” She looked down at her arm. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“It will,” he insisted adamantly. “I’m not going to take any chance on that getting infected.” With his tools in one hand, he grabbed her by the elbow with the other. “I’ll finish the damn fence another time—maybe after I go beat the hell out of Brad Caldwell,” he muttered, marching her off to the truck.

When they got to the passenger side, Jenny turned to look at him over her shoulder as he opened the door for her. “I’m sorry. I thought I was beginning to be a help. Guess not.”

Beside her, he put a hold on his agitation and ran a gentle finger down her cheek. It left behind a streak of blood that he tenderly wiped off with his shirt sleeve. “I just don’t want you getting hurt while you’re helping me out,” he told her quietly, apologetically.

Cupping her cheek in his large hand,
he stared down at her silently for a long moment. Somewhere in that bit of time, Jenny could have sworn he considered kissing her. His eyes settled on her mouth fleetingly, then lifted to look beyond her as he shook his head. A moment later, her helped her up into the cab of the truck and closed the door.

While she waited for him to join her, she wondered what a kiss from this wickedly
attractive man would have been like. For a long surprising moment, desire kindled within her, surprising her with its emergence and strength.

CHAPTER 7

As injuries go, it was not significant, a few stitches and a tetanus shot, but Hawk made Jenny take Sunday off. Since she was achy and stiff from using muscles she wasn’t accustomed to working, she didn’t argue. An afternoon nap was a luxury. She left Hawk doing his laundry, and thought that she should have asked him to do hers. Visions of tiny scraps of lingerie falling from big long-fingered hands teased her dreams.

Bits of silk and lace underwear were falling through the air, landing on her as she lay on her bed looking up at him. A wickedly playful smile slanted across his lips. Then he was bending over her to place a kiss on her mouth. She smiled back and reached for him to bring him down on top of her. His lips were pressed to her, his tongue plunging….

The sensual dream lingered in vivid detail long after she awoke. At dinner that evening, she was embarrassingly unsettled, barely able to keep from blushing every time Hawk said something to her or looked her way. That he was bemused by her behavior embarrassed her even further.

∞∞∞

“How is your arm this morning?” Hawk asked the next day after breakfast.