The sheriff moved to grab Gray Hawk's hand, but Shane shoved him away. "You can't just come in here and take my man, especially when it's your word against Gray's."
Shane turned to Gray Hawk, his expression almost apologetic as he asked, "Did you steal Karlson's cattle?"
"No," Gray Hawk replied, every muscle in his body tense.
Shane faced the sheriff. "There, you see, he didn't do it. Now take your cattle back to Karlson. Tell him he's got the wrong man."
The sheriff's mirthless laughter set Gray Hawk's nerves on edge.
"Karlson wants the breed and that's all there is to it. Now, I'm taking him in. Scotty, you see to handcuffing that boy up now, will ya?"
The sheriff's young deputy cautiously approached Gray Hawk. Staring the boy down, Gray Hawk didn't even resist arrest, knowing the hot-headed sheriff wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in him.
Why hadn't he left Brogan when he had the chance? Instinctively he glanced toward Jordan, who was standing on the porch one minute, the next she was running toward him.
Throwing her arms around him, she kissed his neck, his jaw, then his mouth. "Don't worry, we'll get you out of this." She tried to smile, but failed, her lips trembling.
"We have to go," the sheriff said, moving past Jordan with a look of disgust.
Gray Hawk was shoved into the front of the wagon. Sitting in back of him was the young deputy and a couple of other goons, while the sheriff rode at Gray Hawk's side, a rifle trained on him.
JORDAN STARED after the wagon with a feeling of helplessness.
"We'll get him out, Jordan. Don't worry," Shane said, determination in his voice as he strode toward the stables. A few minutes later he was off like a bolt of lightning.
The day was the longest of Jordan's life. Not even her chores could take her mind off Gray Hawk's plight. It was obvious the sheriff had a vendetta against Gray Hawk from the moment they'd met, and as if shooting him hadn't been enough, now he was intent on seeing him hang.
Later, when Shane rode in looking defeated, Jordan waited for the worst, knowing that whatever happened, she would have to stay strong for Gray Hawk.
Shane ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I wish I had good news, but I don't. It appears that Karlson has a half dozen men who say they saw Gray on his land the same night the cattle were stolen. What we need to do is talk with our men and have them account for Gray that night."
Jordan's pulse skittered with alarm. She thought of the many nights she and Gray Hawk spent together by the pond. All she had to do was tell the sheriff that she was with Gray Hawk. But knowing the man, he wouldn't believe her--or just wouldn't care.
Knowing she shouldn't borrow trouble, she decided to wait, but that evening after dinner, Jordan realized how perilous the situation was when Shane hit his fist on the table. "I don't know what to do. The men say Gray Hawk took off every night at the same time and would come back real late. He always said he went to the pond to bathe, but why then would he spend so much time there? Someone tell me I'm not wrong...I want to believe he's innocent."
Kari shook her head. "It doesn't make sense. Gray Hawk is an honorable man. I know that. We all do."
Jordan felt heat race up her neck and stain her cheeks pink. Her lover's life depended on her, and she knew she had to stand up for him. Glancing at the children, she said, "Shane, could I talk to you in the other room?"
Avoiding Kari's questioning glance, Jordan went to the Living room and waited for Shane. When he walked in a moment later, she took a deep breath and blurted, "Gray Hawk was with me that night--and all those other nights."
Comprehension softened his features. "You were together?"
Jordan bit her lip and nodded.
His relief was evident.
"You have to speak on his behalf. It's his only chance."
She nodded. "I'll do anything."
"You're a strong woman, Jordan. You've proven it before, but even more so now. To stand up against ridicule is a tough thing for anyone."
His words somehow made it easier, and she agreed to go with him into town the following morning.
Dressed in her best gown, she took special care with her appearance. As the wagon rolled through Brogan, people on the street stopped to stare. Refusing to meet anyone's gaze, she took Shane's hand and stepped down from the wagon. She marched straight into the sheriff's office, determined to free Gray Hawk.
The room was filled with cigar smoke and the smell of unwashed bodies. Jordan looked past the sheriff to the cell where Gray Hawk lay on a cot. Seeing her, he came to his feet, and she rushed toward him. Taking his hands in hers, she brought them to her lips and kissed each palm. "You'll be out soon, I promise," she whispered.
Shane stepped in and nodded to Gray Hawk before turning his attention to the sheriff. "Kincaide, we have a witness who says she was with Gray the night he supposedly stole the cattle from Karlson."
The sheriff leaned one hip against his desk. "Is that so?" His gaze shifted over Jordan quickly, his lip lifted in disgust. "What were you all doing out in the dark that late at night?"
Despite her effort not to, Jordan felt her cheeks grow hot under the sheriff's cruel stare. He was baiting her, knowing full well what it was she and Gray Hawk had been doing.
She lifted her chin. "We were making love."
The sheriff lifted his brow, his lips thinned. "Are you married, Miss Hoffman?"
Jordan shook her head. "No."
His laughter vibrated in her ears. How she longed to slap his insolent face.
"How old are you, Miss Hoffman?"
"Eighteen."
"Did this injun rape you?" he asked, pointing to Gray Hawk.
Jordan's gaze swiveled from Gray Hawk back to the sheriff. She frowned. "What?"
"You heard me. I asked if this man here, this Gray Hawk as you call him, if he raped you?"
The room was so quiet Jordan could hear the pounding of her heart. "No, he did
not
rape me. I made love to Gray Hawk of my own free will. I love him."
The sheriff rolled his eyes dramatically. "You love him? Miss Hoffman, you shame all white women."
"You're pushing it, Kincaide," Shane said, stepping forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "We've provided proof that Gray was not alone that night, and now we're asking you to let him go."
"Can't do that."
"What?"
"It's her word against six of Karlson's men. Let's look a little closer at this situation, shall we. We have an eighteen-year-old woman who is sleeping with the breed. A woman we know nothing about. Where does she come from...what do we really know about any of them?"
Shane's jaw hardened as he grabbed Kincaide by the shirtfront and brought him inches from his face. "You're going too far and you damn well know it."
The sheriff pushed Shane off. "No, Catalono, you're going too far. The breed stays here until Karlson drops the charges. Miss Hoffman's word isn't enough for me to let him go. He's the one who pressed charges, and the only one who can drop them."
Shane's eyes narrowed as he stared long and hard at the arrogant sheriff. "You son of a bitch. You called Karlson in on a favor, didn't you? This couldn't have anything to do with you dropping the charges on his son that was caught stealing last fall, now would it?"
Kincaide's smile was cruel and mocking. "Watch it Catalono, or you could find yourself behind those bars alongside your friend, here."
Jordan grabbed Shane's arm and steered him toward the door. "Gray Hawk needs your help now, Shane, and I don't need to be trying to get both of you out."
"Gray, we'll be back," Shane said, slamming the door behind him.
GRAY HAWK lay back on the cot waiting for something to happen. He knew the sheriff wasn't about to go down without a fight, and he was ready.
It had been twenty-four hours since he'd been arrested and not once had the man asked him if he wanted food or drink. Though his stomach grumbled, Gray Hawk would be damned if he'd ask the man for anything.
The sheriff lifted a bottle to his lips, spilling some of the liquor on his shirtfront. He'd been drinking since noon, right after Shane and Jordan left, and he hadn't stopped since. With every hour that crawled by, he became more inebriated, and crueler, calling him every deplorable name known to man.
When Kincaide stood abruptly, sending the chair toppling to the hard floor, Gray Hawk sat up on the cot.
Bracing himself against the bars, the sheriff held the bottle out to him. "How bout a drink?"
Gray Hawk shook his head.
The sheriff lifted his brow. "What, ya' too good to drink with the likes of me?" he asked in a slurred voice.
Gray Hawk remained silent, knowing the man was looking for any reason to start a fight. He glanced down at the keys hanging from his waist. It would be so easy to get them. All he would have to do is snap his neck and take the key, leave and never look back. But at what price?
He'd be a man on the run, who was not only wanted for cattle rustling, but for murder as well. Every bounty hunter from a hundred miles and beyond would be after him--and wouldn't stop searching until he was dead.
"How was that
Hoffman
woman?" the sheriff asked with raised brow. "I often thought of her and her pretty little cousin. Tell me, did she part those lovely white thighs for you whenever you asked? Did she stir beneath you all hot and bothered, or does she just lay there like a rag doll?"
Gray Hawk's adrenaline raced through his veins. How dare he make Jordan sound like a whore? She was a beautiful woman who had given herself to him without remorse, who loved him for who he was, and not what others saw him as. What he wouldn't give to stop the man's verbal abuse forever.
"Oh yeah, I bet she's real good. And her cousin, now there's a real lady. Don't you ever wonder exactly where they came from? I mean, doesn't it seem a little odd to you that they just appeared out of nowhere. But you probably know all about them, don't ya? Especially since you appeared out of nowhere at about the same time." He chuckled, the sound making the hair on the back of Gray Hawk's neck stand on end. "Let me show you a little something before you're strung up, breed."
He stumbled toward his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. He took another swig off his bottle, then chuckled as he threw it in the cell.
Gray Hawk picked up the paper and unrolled it. His gut clenched into a tight knot seeing a drawing of a woman, who looked a lot like Jordan. He kept his surprise in check as he read the caption.
Wanted for kidnapping, Jordan Lee McGuire, age 18. Auburn hair, green eyes, slight build. Considered armed and dangerous. Ten thousand dollar reward if found alive.
His brow furrowed into a frown.
McGuire?
"Since ya can't read, let me tell ya what it says," the sheriff said, an arrogant smile on his face. "You see, she's not who she claims to be. She's not a Hoffman at all, but a McGuire. Do ya know who the McGuire's are?" The sheriff laughed again. "Hell, of course ya don't. Why would ya? Just let me tell ya, they are well-known. A bunch of Eastern snobs who have lots and lots of money because of some invention. People who can do whatever they please, that's who."
Gray Hawk's mind was churning like a swollen river.
Although he knew little about Jordan, he couldn't imagine why she would have lied to him about who she was--unless she had good cause. But what was the kidnapping charge about? Who had been kidnapped, and why wasn't there a poster of Kari? Unless it was Kari who had been kidnapped. Which made no sense. The girls looked too much alike not to be related. Not to mention the close bond they shared.
"Why show this to me now?" Gray Hawk asked, keeping his voice level.
"Cause, my friend, I thought you'd like to know you was poking a real lady. And since we're gonna have us an old fashion hanging party, I thought you'd like to take that bit of news to your grave. It's probably the only thing ya ever really accomplished."
The minute the sheriff produced a length of rope and pulled a chair up to the bars, Gray Hawk stood up, every muscle tense.
The sheriff walked slowly across the room and closed the door to his office. He threw the bolt, locking it, the sound echoing against concrete walls. Pulling the blinds down, he came toward Gray Hawk with a menacing smile. Taking the rope, he strung it through the bars.
When the sheriff met Gray Hawk's gaze, his eyes were bright with excitement. "This is the end of life as you know it, Injun."
Gray Hawk thought it was too bad the man was so excited at the prospect of killing him, because he was about to be mighty disappointed.
Chapter 22
FREDERICK McGuire looked up from his newspaper, his gaze falling on the endless countryside where trees were becoming fewer, and the land stretched out in all directions. He shook his head, wondering why in the world anyone in their right mind would want to live in the West.
Despite the gloomy locale, Frederick was pleased since receiving word from Brogan, a small town smack dab in the middle of Wyoming territory. The sender had been a sheriff who knew the whereabouts of Jordan McGuire--alias Jordan Hoffman.
For months now he had been waiting for this news.
Especially after the men he'd employed to track the girls had come up missing without a trace after having received a large retainer from him. He should have known better than to pay them so much up front, but he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
Jordan's intended, Marvin, was still waiting patiently, thinking his lovely young bride-to-be was on a trip to Europe with her cousin. He was suspicious at first, which was expected. But Patricia finally explained to the older man that Jordan and Kari had left suddenly to visit an ailing friend in London. If Marvin or anyone else knew the girls had runaway, it would ruin future chances of marrying either one of them off. But he was certain he'd find them, and Jordan would marry Marvin as planned. He would deal with his daughter later.
He had expected Jordan to rebel against him about her impending marriage but he was actually shocked she had gone so far as to leave Virginia in order to get out of it. The ultimate blow came when she took his daughter on her wild escapade. Well, she would lose her wild ways soon. Marvin had a way of breaking a woman. It would do her good. She was much too strong-willed, just like her father had been.
He shook his head, remembering when his brother had built the rustic home out in the wilderness, turning his back on a dynasty their parents had built for them. Of course, it ultimately worked to Frederick's benefit, leaving him in control of the company. In his opinion, his brother deserved the horrifying death he'd experienced at the hands of savages. It was just grossly unfair that he was left to raise his brother's brat.
Jordan had come to live with him and his family, and in the process had led his beautiful daughter astray. Before she arrived, Kari had been a manageable child, who did everything he and his beloved Patricia asked of her. But Jordan's influence began to rub off on Kari, and soon she took up some of her cousin's traits that no tutor could reverse, no matter how hard they tried.
And now she was costing him a fortune. In the last month his debts were piling up, to where he had people knocking on his door asking for payment. He had a lot of investments, but his young wife had a tendency to spend more than he could make, and he knew if he didn't find his niece soon and marry her off to Marvin, that he would be in even more dire straights.
Patricia had warned him just a few weeks before, she would leave him if he didn't save their London home, a place she visited perhaps one month out of the year. He'd invested heavily in a new company that had yet to show a profit, and until it did, the purse strings had to tighten. But his wife was being difficult. She didn't want to hear they were in financial trouble, so therefore she ignored him, and continued spending money like it grew on trees.
He knew if Jordan had any clue as to how much she was worth, she would run, which meant he had to keep her inheritance a secret until the ring was on her finger and she was Marvin's wife.
The stage driver knocked three times on the top of the coach. "Brogan's straight ahead, sir."
Frederick smiled. The day of reckoning was at hand.
JORDAN WAS leading her mare from the stable when she saw a lone rider coming hell-bent for leather over the hill toward the Triple T. Her heart hammered recognizing the man's broad shoulders and black hair. "Gray Hawk," she whispered, squinting against the sun, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her.
The past twenty-four hours had been hell. Sleep had been impossible, and several times she had to talk herself into staying in bed. She wanted to be with Gray Hawk--needed to be with him. She didn't trust the sheriff. If his earlier behavior was any indication, he was going to be nothing but trouble until Gray Hawk left Brogan.
She could see Gray Hawk clearly now, and her breath caught in her throat seeing a gash on his forehead and a rope burn around his neck.
He jumped off the horse that was still moving, and came toward her in determined strides. Reaching out to him, he took her into his embrace, pulling her tightly to him, stealing the breath from her lungs.
She buried her face in his shirtfront, kissing his chest. "What did he do to you?"
He put her from him, his face strained. "The bastard tried to hang me. He'll be coming for me shortly."
"Where's the sheriff now?"
"Hopefully still laying unconscious in a locked cell."
"What will you do?"
"I have to go...I can't stay here."
"We can hide you," Shane said, stepping down off the porch. "Kincaide's not going to move too fast, especially since you got the best of him. He'll get as many men together as possible before heading this way, and since I talked with some of the townspeople, I believe he'll have a hard time getting any help."
Jordan knew by the look in his eyes that he was leaving. There was nothing she could do to stop him. Even with the suspicion she carried his child, she couldn't use that to keep him with her, no matter how bad she wanted to. They had been together for weeks now without a single declaration of love from him. Obviously he didn't return her sentiment.
"Gray, if you need anything." Shane grasped his hand. "You know where we are."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
They were silent until Shane disappeared in the house and closed the door.
"When I was in jail, the sheriff showed me something I think you might be interested in."
Jordan's brow furrowed into a frown. Nothing the sheriff could do or say would interest her, or so she'd thought until Gray Hawk pulled out a piece of paper and unrolled it. The breath left her lungs in a rush. "Oh my God," she said, her voice sounded hollow to her ears as she stared at the picture of herself--a wanted poster. Her worst nightmare had finally come true.
Gray Hawk had obviously gotten it from the sheriff. So why hadn't Kincaide arrested her? "Did he wire the law in Virginia?" she asked, her mind scrambling, thinking what she should do next.
"I don't know. I just need the truth, Jordan. Just tell me the truth."
Her gaze shifted to the hill, waiting for the sheriff, or even worse--her uncle, to come and take her away. If Frederick were to come, there would be nothing she could do but leave with him. Her stomach sank like a stone. She was desperate for a solution, yet no matter how much she wanted it, she couldn't ask Gray Hawk to marry her, especially when he didn't even love her.
"Kari and I left Virginia when my uncle was going to marry me off to a seventy year-old man." She took a deep breath, hoping he understood. "All my life I wanted to come back to Wyoming to claim my ranch and spend the rest of my days raising horses. When I told my uncle that, he said the ranch was gone, that the taxes hadn't been paid. I couldn't stay knowing I would marry Marvin Johnson, so I left, and brought Kari with me. We've been working to get enough money to pay for the taxes, so it will be mine again."
He watched her intently, and she knew he was searching for the truth.
"I hated Mr. Johnson so much, I would have rather died than marry him, and if my uncle comes here, Gray Hawk, he'll make me return to Virginia and marry."
He pulled her against him, comforting her. "He's not taking you anywhere, because we won't be here for him to take you."
Her pulse skittered, fear working its way up her spine. She put him at arms length. "Where will we go?"
"We can return to my village...we'd be safe there."
A thousand emotions ran through her. To return to Gray Hawk's village would be difficult, but with her uncle breathing down her neck, she had little choice.
FREDERICK McGuire straightened his tie and headed toward the sheriff's office, grimacing at the grime that covered his Italian shoes. He was filthy from head to toe. What he needed was a hot bath, a change of clothes, and a stiff drink. But first he needed to check with the sheriff to make sure his niece and daughter were still in town.
The door to the sheriff's office was locked. He frowned, jerking the door handle. He was ready to turn away when he heard a muffled cry from the other side. Peering into the dark office, he saw a man in a cell, his fingers wrapped around the iron bars yelling for someone to let him out. The law in the west was definitely different than in the east, Frederick thought, lifting a brow, deciding it was best to come back later rather than deal with a drunk prisoner.
Crossing the street to the only hotel in town, Frederick took the best room they had, which ended up being a chamber no larger than his sitting room back in Virginia, and a bed that was as hard as a board.
Having ordered a bath to be brought up directly, he lay back on the uncomfortable bed smoking a cigar. Half-an-hour later a knock on his door provided a tub, servants with buckets of steaming water, and a bottle of the best brandy the cow town had to offer.
After the servants had seen to his every whim, he dismissed them and sank low in the tub, letting the stress of the long trip dwindle away with the dirt. He poured himself a drink and didn't pause when he heard the door open, then close.
He smiled hearing the sound of high heels clicking against the wood floor a second before he opened his eyes to find a blonde, complete with a gaudy purple satin dress, sitting on the bed in a very unladylike position.
Instantly he was surprised that a place like Brogan would have a whore who looked as good as this little peach before him. He smiled like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse as she began to slowly undress, her gaze not once leaving his. His hand moved to his erection, gripping it with a firm hold as the prostitute began a nasty striptease. It had been too long since he'd slept with his wife, a woman known for her theatrics in bed, as well as her abstinence when she wanted her way. But even when they did make love, Patricia was no whore, and he was in the mood to make love until he could scarcely stand.
The blood gorged in his manhood as the prostitute flung the remainder of her dress at his head. She giggled as she sank down in the bath, the water lapping at her creamy thighs as she sat directly on his erection. Groaning with delight, she let her head fall back on her shoulders, her fingers teasing her nipples until they were as hard as diamonds.
She bounced up and down, sending water over the edge of the tub, onto the floor. Her cries of passion were so loud he was sure servants would come running, but he didn't care. He was in the middle of this god-forsaken country, and his wife was a whole world away. He could have his way with this great piece every day if he wanted, until it was time to head back to Virginia, to his wife, who would never be the wiser.
JORDAN'S HEART lurched seeing the tears that stained Rebecca's cheeks.
"Honey, we'll be back soon."
Rebecca squeezed her eyes tight. The trio that stood on the porch looked dismal at best. Shane's face was expressionless, but she saw the tension around his eyes. Even Tanner, who usually was so animated, said nothing as he stared straight ahead.
"We'd better go," Gray Hawk said, his voice urgent.
"Wait!" Shane said, coming toward them in long strides. "Wouldn't it be better if Kari stayed here? If the women were in different places, it would complicate things somewhat. I mean, he wouldn't leave one of you behind."
Kari looked stricken, glancing from Shane to Jordan.
"She can't go into Brogan," Jordan said, hating the thought of separation.
"She doesn't have to. She can stay here. I need the help, especially now that Rebecca's with us. For all that Hank says he enjoys cooking, he'd rather be out roping cattle. And as far as her safety is concerned, I have a lot of men that live on this land. Nothing will happen to her, I promise."
He turned to Kari, his expression imploring. "I know that at times you feel I've been unjust, and you'd be right in that," he said smiling softly. "But I want you to stay. I think it would be easier on everyone that way, especially the kids...and myself."
Jordan looked at her cousin. She saw the indecision in her eyes. "I think he has a point, Kari. Gray Hawk and I will be fine. Shane can protect you, and it's not you they're after anyway."
"Are you sure, Jordan? I mean if you want--"
Jordan leaned over and hugged her. "I've never been more certain of anything." Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back and looked down at Shane. "I trust you to do as you say. Watch her as though your life depended on it."
He nodded. "You can count on it."
She managed a small smile. "I will."
WITH THE whore asleep in his bed, Frederick left the hotel having given explicit orders not to disturb his room while he was gone.
With a clean set of clothes and a new disposition, he set out once again for the sheriff's office. This time the door was wide open, and the man sitting at the desk looked remarkably like the man who'd been locked in the cell earlier.
"Mr. Kincaide?"
The man sat up taller in his chair, muttering something under his breath to the young man who stood at his side. To Frederick they appeared like a couple of dimwitted brothers, but he had expected little better from a small town like this. Apparently it was hard to get anything of quality...except for that little piece lying snug in his bed, he thought with a smug smile.
"I'd be Kincaide, and who might you be?" the man asked, his gaze shifting up and down Frederick's form.
"I'm Frederick McGuire."
As comprehension set in, the sheriff's face split into an immediate smile, and he stood up, nearly upsetting his chair. "Well, Mr. McGuire, I'm mighty pleased to meet you. I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow though."
Ignoring the man's hand, Frederick nodded toward a chair. "May I?"
"Sure, go right ahead."
"I received the message from you in regards to my niece, Jordan. Tell me, is she still here?"