Bobbi Smith (12 page)

She was excited about the day to come. The big race was scheduled for eleven o’clock, and she could hardly wait. She got up from the dressing table and laid out her riding clothes for the morning.

There would be no fancy dresses tomorrow. Tomorrow was all about winning.

Randi grinned. The ranch hands were counting on her. She couldn’t let them down.

Randi was fairly confident she was going to win, since Hawk hadn’t entered with Bruiser. One of these days, though, she wanted to challenge him to a race when Angel was fresh and rested. It would be interesting to see if she could beat him then.

Randi sought the comfort of the bed, but even though she was tired from the long day, sleep proved elusive. She tossed and turned. Memories of Hawk slipped into her thoughts—images of him looking like a warrior, charging out of nowhere to grab her off her horse, of her helping him at the watering trough after the fight with Fred, and of how it had been tonight, having dinner with him. The evening had turned out just as she and Sherri had hoped it would.

Sherri had been with “her” Andy.

And she had been with—

Randi had started to think “her” Hawk, and the realization startled her. She finally admitted to herself that what she felt for Hawk was different from the feelings she had for other men. She tried to tell herself he was just like all the other cowboys who worked for her father, but she knew he was different—he was special.

When Randi was still restless and unable to sleep an hour later, she finally gave up and got out of bed to go look out the window. Though the street was mostly deserted, in the distance she could hear the celebrating of the rowdy cowboys in town for the weekend. As she was standing there enjoying the coolness of the night’s breeze, she saw a lone rider coming down the street.

Randi recognized Hawk right away. Since she was clad only in her nightgown, she slipped back behind the curtains to watch him as he passed by. She wondered where he was going at this time of night. Only when he had ridden completely out of sight did she return to her bed.

Randi had not seen the other man who’d been lurking drunkenly in the dark shadows of the night, looking up at her bedroom window, watching her and planning. . . .

Fred had his hand resting on his sidearm as he stood in the shadows, watching Hawk ride out of town. It would have been a simple thing to back-shoot him while there was no one around to witness the act, but he had better plans.

Fred had just started to turn away when he caught a glimpse of Randi standing partially behind the curtain in a hotel room window. He stared up her and smiled.

He knew what he wanted to do.

All he needed was the chance to pull it off.

Hawk bedded down near a stream a short distance out of town. It was a quiet, secluded site, and he was glad for the peace and solitude after all the time he’d spent in the crowded bar. He had lingered at the Silver Dollar for hours, but had heard nothing out of the ordinary.

As Hawk lay staring up at the star-studded night sky, thoughts of Randi stayed with him. He remembered how strong she’d been when she’d fought him like a wildcat. He remembered how gentle her touch had been when she’d tended to his injury after the fight with Fred. He remembered, too, how beautiful she’d looked that very evening when they’d eaten dinner together.

Randi was a lovely woman, but she wasn’t for him.

Hawk knew that.

And yet he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

He closed his eyes in an attempt to block her from his thoughts, but it didn’t work. A vision of Randi still danced before him, tempting him, luring him.

He knew the danger of allowing himself to care about her, and he prided himself on being strong. It had been the only way he’d survived these last years. There could be no future for them. He would leave as soon as the rustlers had been caught.

Hawk rolled over in frustration.

It was going to be a long night.

And it was, for his dreams were filled with images of Jessie and Randi.

Excitement was in the air as the time for the start of the race drew near. The Stampede was a big celebration. Crowds of townsfolk and ranchers wrangled to get the best positions along the length of the route so they could cheer on their favorites.

The Stampede’s starting line was on Main Street. It was marked by a big banner hanging across the width of the street. The mood there was growing tense as the riders began to assemble.

Though she’d been dressed up the night before, Randi was back in her normal work clothes today as she prepared for the race. She was just finishing up in the stable with her father and Wade.

“Are you ready?” Jack asked.

“Oh, yes,” Randi said as she led Angel outside. She swung up in the saddle and patted Angel’s neck. “We’re ready.”

She looked up just then to see Hawk coming their way. She’d been hoping to see him.

Wade saw Hawk, too, and asked, “Did you come by to wish Randi good luck, too?”

“Do you think she needs it?” Hawk countered. “I’ve seen these two run. There’s no doubt who I’m betting on.”

“I’m betting on her, too, and so are the rest of the hands. Don’t let us down, Randi,” Wade added.

“I’ll see what I can do for you,” she teased, but she was really thrilled by their faith in her. “I’d hate for you to all end up broke and blame me.”

“It’s almost time,” Jack said, interrupting their banter.

“I’d better go. We don’t want to miss the start.”

“Randi . . .”

She recognized her father’s serious tone and looked back at him. “Yes, Pa?”

“You’re going to do great,” he encouraged her, “but be careful.”

“I will, Pa.”

She rode off toward the starting line on Main Street, ready to take on all comers.

“Riders! Are you ready?” called out Judd Bartlett, the town’s mayor, addressing the twenty riders who had lined up before him.

“Yeah!” they yelled in response.

The crowd that had gathered around cheered in anxious anticipation.

Hawk stood with Wade and Jack, watching Randi. He knew how fiery and competitive she was, and her fierce determination was evident in her serious expression as she focused on Judd Bartlett, watching and waiting for him to drop the starting flag.

“Get on your mark! Get set!” Judd paused for effect.
“Go!”

He dropped the flag.

In that instant Randi and Angel charged off, galloping away at top speed.

A roar of excitement tore through the spectators as the riders raced past them.

Randi leaned low over Angel’s neck as they battled for position. Speed meant everything. They tore through the town, racing neck and neck with cowboys from neighboring ranches, heading for the first turn.

“How much did you boys bet on Randi?” Wade asked Rob and Lew as they joined the throng.

“Half my pay!” Rob answered.

“I only bet five dollars,” Lew told him. “I just hope I don’t lose it.”

“You won’t,” Hawk said with confidence.

The race was too close to call as the contestants circled the town. The other riders were challenging her, staying close beside her. As they started back toward the far end of Main Street, Angel and Lightning, rancher Pete Turner’s stallion, were running neck and neck.

“Go, girl!” Randi urged Angel on, pushing the mare to her limits when she saw the finish line some distance ahead of them.

Angel responded to her urging with a surge of power, giving them just the edge they needed to take the lead.

Pete savagely spurred Lightning, trying to keep up with Angel’s breakneck pace. He had no intention of losing to Randi Stockton again. He hated the Stocktons. He had for years. He wanted to get the best of them, but it looked like there was nothing he could do. Randi and Angel were pulling away from him.

Randi was exhilarated as they gained half a length on Lightning. She was smiling widely as they neared the finish line, and she let out a shout of victory as they crossed it just ahead of the challenging rancher.

“She did it!” Jack yelled, running forward to congratulate his daughter.

Wade and the other men were cheering, too. They had just made a goodly sum off their bets.

Hawk stood back and watched as Randi rode up and dismounted before the mayor. Her father came to stand proudly at her side.

“Congratulations, Randi,” Judd told her as he awarded her the winning prize money. “Here’s fifty dollars. You and Angel proved you were the best again!”

“Thanks!”

“Remember, folks,” Judd went on, addressing the crowd as they began to disperse, “we’ve got the shooting competition coming up at one o’clock. Don’t miss any of the fun this afternoon.”

“I’ll meet you back at the hotel after I take care of Angel,” Randi told her father.

“Do you need any help?” Jack offered.

“No. I shouldn’t be too long.”

“All right. We’ll get something to eat, and then I think I’ll enter the shooting competition.”

Hawk had hung back when the other ranch hands hurried forward to first congratulate Randi. While he was biding his time, he noticed that the rancher who’d come in second in the race was still mounted up, looking on as Randi was congratulated by all the men. The expression on the man’s face was one of pure fury, and Hawk could tell he was a bad loser.

When the ranch hands had finished congratulating Randi, they headed for the Silver Dollar to collect on their winning bets.

Randi began leading Angel toward the stable. It was then that Hawk sought her out.

“That was some fine riding,” he complimented her.

“This race was a lot closer than last year. Last year we beat Lightning by a full length.”

“All that matters is that you won.”

“It was exciting,” she agreed. “Lightning is fast, but Angel just proved she’s still faster.”

“Who was riding Lightning?”

“That was Pete Turner. He’s a neighboring rancher.”

“He didn’t look too happy.”

“He’ll get over it. He always does,” she told him with an impish grin. “Are you going to enter the shooting competition this afternoon?”

“I hadn’t thought much about it.”

“Pa always does.”

“Has he ever won?”

“No, but he enjoys the challenge.”

“Why don’t you enter?” Hawk asked. “I’ve seen how you handle a gun. You should try.”

She grinned at him. “No. I won the race. That’s enough competition for me today.”

“Randi!”

She turned around at the sound of Sherri’s call, disappointed at the interruption. She was usually glad to see her friend, but she had been enjoying the time alone with Hawk.

“I just heard that you won the race! Congratulations!” Sherri hurried over to join them.

“I’ve got to take Angel down to the stable. You want to come with us?”

“Sure,” Sherri answered.

“I’m going to go find Wade,” Hawk said. “I’ll see you at the shooting competition.”

“You’re entering?”

He nodded.

“Good. We’ll cheer you on,” Randi and Sherri promised.

Though it was before noon, Hawk found Wade already settled in and relaxing with several of the other hands at the Silver Dollar. He joined them at their table.

“What’ll you have?” Sindy asked, coming up to them.

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Hawk answered.

“Are you sure?” She gave him a suggestive look and leaned toward him to give him a better view of her cleavage.

“I’m sure.”

His answer was so indifferent that Sindy was a bit put off. She wasn’t used to any of the cowboys ignoring her or turning her down. She quickly left.

“She wasn’t just selling liquor, you know.” Lew chuckled.

“I know,” was all Hawk said.

“Why aren’t you drinking with us?” Rob asked.

“I’m going to enter the shooting contest.”

“That contest is a good one,” Lew added.

“That’s what Randi said. Are any of you entering?”

“No. Jack usually does, though. Fred always did, too, but I haven’t seen him around yet today,” Wade told him.

“How good is Fred?”

“He’s real good,” Lew answered. “He’s come close to winning a couple of times.”

“How good are you?” Wade countered.

“I guess we’ll be finding out soon enough,” Hawk told them.

They lingered in the saloon until the time came for the competition; then they all went down for the action.

The shooting contest was held on the outskirts of town. Targets were posted, and in each round, the entrants got three shots with their revolvers. Those coming closest to the bull’s-eye went on to the next round.

A crowd had already gathered to watch. Randi and Sherri had made sure to get there early enough to have a good vantage point.

Over forty men had entered the contest, but after three rounds, the number was down to less than ten. Fred, Jack, and Hawk were among them.

The next round progressed.

Fred went first, then stood back to watch. When he’d learned that both Jack and Hawk had entered the competition, he’d been pleased. Today he was going to show them—and everyone else in San Miguel—just who was the best gunman in these parts.

After Milt Cramer, the man who was serving as judge, checked the targets, he turned to the crowd to announce who would continue. “We’re down to our final two now, folks.”

A murmur of surprise went through those gathered that so many contestants had already been eliminated.

“Who are they?” someone yelled excitedly.

“Well, I was about to tell you,” the judge joked. “Our two finalists are . . . Fred Carter and Hawk Morgan.”

Jack’s disappointment was obvious as he went to join Randi and Sherri.

“Who do you think is going to win, Pa?” Randi asked, knowing there had to be tension between Hawk and Fred.

“Fred’s good, real good. I don’t know about Hawk.”

“Hawk will win,” Randi said with quiet certainty. “He has to.”

Two more targets were posted by the judge.

“Fred, you go first,” Milt directed.

Fred glanced toward Hawk and smiled arrogantly at him. He walked slowly up to the mark and took aim. He got off his three shots and then confidently holstered his gun. He strode easily back toward where Hawk and Milt were standing.