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Ben glanced up sharply and frowned. “You think Frank and Grady might be in cahoots?”

“Yes, I think a man as sly and cunning as Frank Mills might have a brother or cousin with the same lack of integrity. Sending one of our men to reconnoiter Mills Ranch, and to see who comes and goes, might give us a lead and clear up some of our confusion.”

“Good idea,” Ben replied.

“Fletch can identify the two men who shot him and stole his horse while he was tracking Grady Mills. I can identify the men in the gang I infiltrated.” Hawk glanced in the direction they’d come. “I think DeVol and his men tried to ambush us earlier tonight. With any luck, the men Fletch and I shot off the saddle won’t get up again.”

Ben gaped in alarm. “Was Shiloh endangered?”

“I was her shield of defense,” Hawk assured Ben.

“Glad to hear she was in good hands, but the ordeal still might have her suffering nightmares.”

Hawk smiled wryly. “I think the lady is tougher than she looks. At least that’s my impression.

“I think we should establish surveillance in town as well as Mills Ranch,” Hawk recommended.

“If it gets some results I’m all for it,” Ben replied. “Beats the hell out of showing up to talk to victims and witnesses
after
they’ve been robbed and shot. A couple of our men investigated cattle rustling north of Cerrogordo two weeks ago. Another stage holdup occurred west of town last week. We need more men on patrol.” He glanced sideways at Fletch. “Do you think your brother might join us? We could use another good man. If he can ride and shoot as well as you can I’ll swear him in right now.”

“There’s just one thing, Captain,” Hawk said hesitantly. “You need to know—”

Ben flung up his hand to forestall him. “Don’t tell me anything I don’t want to know about you and your brother. I have some speculations of my own and I have had since you joined up. But you’ve proved your worth so many times that I really don’t give a damn who you or Fletch were or what you did before we met you. I prefer to judge a man’s worth on how he handles himself during a fight against lopsided odds. You’ve passed the test with flying colors scores of times already. I predict Fletch will, too.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome.” Ben grinned wryly. “Now, is there anything else you feel compelled to divulge before I swear in your brother?”

Hawk pursed his lips and shrugged. “No, I guess not.”

“Good. Keeping things simple is my personal and professional motto,” Ben stated.

When Ben strode away Hawk turned his attention to Shiloh. The Rangers had formed a semicircle in front of her and were questioning her about her visit to New Orleans. She was treating them to a detailed ac
count of the bustling port and the elaborate soirees she’d attended. The Rangers seemed enthralled by the elegant side of life that was a world away from their dangerous forays in the wilderness.

Hawk couldn’t picture himself strutting about town with the stylishly dressed aristocrats Shiloh described. Not that he and Fletch fit in anywhere, he mused as he watched his friends blatantly dote on Shiloh. But he would stick out like a sore thumb in New Orleans society.

Considering his associates’ fawning fascination with Shiloh, Hawk doubted he’d have trouble convincing
any
Ranger to escort her home the following morning. More than likely
all
of them would leap at the chance to spend time alone with her.

Better any of them than me,
he assured himself. He’d tested his self-restraint to the limit already.

“If you don’t mind I’d like to get some sleep,” Hawk heard Shiloh say to her doting admirers. “My ankle is throbbing.” She glanced hopefully at Hawk. “Do you have some of that soothing poultice to spare?”

Hawk stifled the stirring need that her smile provoked. One look at her and he reacted. Hell! What happened to the unflappable willpower he’d spent thirty years cultivating?

He was turning as sappy as the other Rangers and he refused to let it happen. Repeating that mantra, Hawk strode off to fetch the salve. When he returned, he had to shoulder past his friends who still hovered around Shiloh as if she were visiting royalty.

“You’re sleeping over here.” He gestured toward a tree located apart from the bedrolls encircling the campfire.

He didn’t know what possessed him, but he scooped
Shiloh up in his arms and clutched her protectively against him. He inwardly cringed when the men gaped at him.

“I can walk under my own power,” Shiloh protested when she noticed all the speculative glances that came their way. “This isn’t necessary, Hawk.”

“I didn’t want you tripping over my coworkers who can’t seem to take their eyes off you.” He cast the men a pointed stare. “Shiloh should be rested up by tomorrow morning. Surely you can wait until then for more bowing and scraping.”

When Hawk walked off Shiloh frowned curiously. “Just how long have these Rangers been in the field? You would think I am the first female they’d laid eyes on in a year.”

“They have been around women more than I have the past three months,” he replied. “But then, you’re prettier than most. Rangers or not, they’re still men. Who wouldn’t be easily beguiled when you grace a man with your dazzling smiles?” He cast her a teasing glance. “If you didn’t want their attention you should’ve scowled at them the way you scowled at me.”

“If they knew me as well as you do, they would run screaming in the opposite direction,” she predicted.

When the bite of possessive jealousy finally eased up, Hawk grinned at her. “If you won’t give me any grief tonight I promise not to tell them what you’re
really
like.”

He set her on her good leg then handed her the cane for support. Shiloh shivered and told herself—for the forty-eleventh time, damn it—that it was because of the evening chill, not because of the tingles of pleasure provoked by Hawk’s touch.

“Now that I’ve seen that you’re a respected member of this battalion and you’ve turned in the stolen money I want to officially apologize for thinking the worst about you.”

Hawk shrugged casually then rolled out her padded pallet. “I didn’t blame you for being suspicious.”

“Will you be taking me home tomorrow?” she asked as he steadied her arm while she sank awkwardly onto the pallet.

“Someone else will be delegated that task.”

Shiloh was annoyed with herself for feeling disappointed. She shouldn’t care who escorted her home, so long as she reached the ranch quickly. She was anxious to get on with the rest of her life, one that would not include courtships. She had always taken an active interest in managing the ranch and she intended to devote even more time to that from now on.

The only problem would be convincing her brothers that she wanted to accept more responsibility and that she wasn’t interested in a husband. She had to convince them that it wasn’t their mission in life to find her a suitable match.

“Is there anything else you need tonight?” Hawk asked, itching to put some space between them before he did something stupid—like bed down beside her, supposedly for her protection. Which was ridiculous because more than a half-dozen sharpshooters and skilled fighters surrounded them.

“No. I’m fine.” She glanced at Fletcher, who had conked out like a doused lantern. She gestured toward the shiny badge lying beside his two pearl-handled peacemakers. “Your commander must have leaped at the chance to sign up another lawman. If Fletch is half
as skilled as you are he will make a fine addition to this battalion.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

Shiloh frowned at Hawk’s brisk tone. “You’ve been standoffish lately. Did I do something to annoy you?”

Yes, you live. You breathe. You arouse me when I want to feel nothing,
he thought to himself. But he said aloud, “No. It’s just been a long three days. I could use some shut-eye. Good night.”

Shiloh snuggled beneath her quilt and watched Hawk gather an armful of tall grass to make his pallet, since Fletch was using the spare bedroll. With Fletch ten feet away to her left and Hawk ten feet away to her right, she was insulated from the well-meaning but overeager Rangers who had showered her with such rapt attention.

She couldn’t figure out why Hawk was acting protective toward her while they were in the Ranger encampment. Although she vowed not to become romantically involved with men again, the Rangers seemed harmless enough. She really hadn’t minded their collective company because it took her mind off her silly notions about Hawk.

She recoiled instinctively when Hawk’s hand curled around her foot. She propped herself on her elbow to watch him unwrap the bandage then apply more soothing poultice. From beneath lowered lashes, she studied his masculine profile in the flickering campfire.

He was definitely an impressive male specimen—if a woman were inclined to fantasize about him. He was also an amazing survivalist—if a woman found herself in need of protection. And being in the circle of his sinewy arms provoked feelings of comfort and invincible strength.

Not to mention a host of arousing sensations that Shiloh refused to let herself think about right now.

The moment Hawk completed the task, Shiloh murmured a quiet thank-you then closed her eyes. She listened to Hawk stretch out on his pallet, heard him expel an audible sigh. She suspected he was tired of tending to her and was anxious to have her out from underfoot so he could resume his duties.

A part of her felt insulted, rejected and disappointed by the impersonal attitude. She preferred to see the professional lawman facade crack to reveal the sometimes playful and sometimes vulnerable personality that drew her against her will. In addition, she was oddly pleased that he didn’t treat her with the same doting attention of the Rangers. She would have lost respect for him if he catered to her as if she were a fragile princess perched on a pedestal….

Her eyes snapped open and she propped herself up to stare at the glowing campfire while she contemplated that disturbing thought. He allowed her to be herself, allowed her to test her limits instead of pigeonholing her because she was a woman.

“Something wrong?” he questioned quietly.

When she felt Hawk’s intense gaze on her she squirmed in her skin. “No. Everything is fine. Peachy, in fact.”

And it was—or so she tried to convince herself. Tomorrow she would be on her way home after her six-month absence. Noah and Gideon were not going to ship her off again, either.

She’d be home to stay and Hawk would be out of her life. No more complications. No emotional turmoil. No temptation to deter her from her new role as a spinster who was well pleased with the new direction of her life.

Chapter Eight

S
hiloh came awake with a start at daybreak the next morning. Three Rangers—Virgil, Henry and Arthur, if she remembered their names correctly—were standing over her with a cup of steaming coffee and biscuits. She glanced to the right to note that Hawk was up and gone. She glanced to the left to see Fletch grinning in wry amusement.

“We thought you might like to start off the day with fresh brew, ma’am.” Bowlegged Virgil sank down on his haunches to hand her a tin cup that had his name scratched on it.

“Artie and I had the same notion,” Henry said as he hunkered down to offer her warm biscuits.

Shiloh smiled gratefully. “That’s very kind of you, but please enjoy your coffee. I need to…um…” She shifted self-consciously.

“I’ll be glad to accompany you,” Artie spoke up. “This way, Miss Shiloh.”

Feeling like a spectacle in a camp full of men, Shiloh followed Artie into the bushes near a narrow stream so she could see to her needs. It was sweet re
ally, the way the Rangers treated her with the utmost respect and consideration. They had dragged out their best manners and were eager to please. It was soothing balm after her dealings with Antoine.

Yet, here she was secretly yearning for the attention of a man who seemed anxious to get her off his hands. As Hawk said, Sometimes there was just no accounting for some people’s tastes. Certainly, she had made a critical error in judgment when she fell for Antoine Troudeau’s practiced charm. Once he was out of her life she’d made a pact to avoid romantic entanglements. But fate put her on a collision course with Logan Hawk. Ironic, wasn’t it? And maddening.

Muttering at her foolishness, Shiloh emerged from the underbrush. Sure enough, three bodyguards were waiting for her. Five minutes later one of the other Rangers—Herman was his name—handed her a plate heaping with more biscuits and gravy. Then he kerplunked down beside her to inquire about her night’s sleep.

While Shiloh enjoyed her meal, the other men joined her to watch the sun splash its vibrant colors across the horizon. After so many consecutive days of clouds and rain, the sun was a welcome change. When she made mention of that aloud all the men bobbed their heads in agreement.

And that’s when she realized what it was about Hawk that drew her unwilling interest. He didn’t cater to her and agree with her, just to please her. He was also a bit ornery, just as she was when the mood struck. He was as disinterested in getting involved in a dead-end liaison as she was. He didn’t try to put his best foot forward to make a good impression and neither did she.

Hawk was just Hawk. His job was his life. You could
take him or leave him—it didn’t seem to matter one way or the other to him. Never once in their brief but action-packed acquaintance had he tried to impress her.

And that’s what impressed her most, confound it!

“Here, ma’am, let me take that for you.” Samuel Hampton, the tall, lanky Ranger, plucked up her empty plate then retreated to fill her cup.

“You don’t suppose an injured
man
could get a cup of that fresh brew to wake him up, do you?”

The men turned in unison to glance at Fletch who had braced himself on his arms to sit upright.

“We weren’t formally introduced last night, but I’m Hawk’s brother, Fletch,” he declared. “I met up with one of the gangs you’re chasing and ended up with a bullet in my leg. I’d give my good leg for a cup of that hot coffee.”

Shiloh rolled to her knees to extend her fresh cup to Fletch. “Here, take mine,” she insisted.

And that’s how Hawk found her when he rode into camp. All the Rangers, except Fletch—were staring at Shiloh’s curvaceous backside while she was braced in a suggestive position. Lust and possessive jealousy lambasted Hawk simultaneously. He growled like an irascible grizzly.

Hell and damnation! He’d taken his turn at standing guard and spent most of his time listing all the sensible reasons why Shiloh should remain off-limits to him. He had even dreamed up another dozen excuses in an effort to keep an emotional distance. But now he couldn’t remember one reason why he shouldn’t succumb to lust while he stared at her shapely backside.

Hawk cleared his throat—loudly. His coworkers jerked to attention and then glanced guiltily at him. As
well they should have, the shameless lechers. He knew what every damn one of them was thinking, too, and he wanted to shoot the whole lot of them for fantasizing about Shiloh.

Dismounting, he strode toward the cluster of lolly-gagging Rangers. By that time, Shiloh had handed off her cup and sunk back on her pallet. She glanced up to nod a greeting and he got lost in those expressive green eyes that were surrounded by long, sooty lashes. Another jolt of need hammered at him so he wheeled toward Fletch to distract himself.

“Are you feeling better this morning?”

Fletch nodded and grinned knowingly, then sipped his coffee. “Yep, how about you, big brother?”

Hawk shrugged evasively. He didn’t announce that he was going to be a much happier man when Shiloh and her guide rode from camp so he could get back to business as usual.

“I found three bodies after last night’s ambush attempt.”

Fletch’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Three?”

“One of them was shot at close range,” Hawk said grimly. “My guess is that Les Figgins complained about something. DeVol doesn’t deal well with criticism or suggestions.”

“Well, that lessens the number of bandits we have to track down,” Fletch said.

“And I’m anxious to get my hands on DeVol and Stiles.” Hawk turned toward the other Rangers. “Does anyone want to volunteer to escort Shiloh home?”

Every arm—save Hawk’s and Fletch’s—shot up simultaneously. Hawk rolled his eyes at the overzealous responses. Hawk would sacrifice his own life to protect any of these men, and he trusted them with his life.
Yet, he didn’t trust any of them in Shiloh’s company because the entire battalion had been panting and drooling over her since she set foot in camp.

Hell of a dilemma, thought Hawk. He didn’t want anyone to accompany Shiloh home, but he was hesitant to do it himself. He didn’t need to be in on the decision making so he lurched around to fetch a cup of coffee and a plate of biscuits. Captain Tipton could make the choice.

“Hold up, Hawk,” Ben Tipton called out.

Hawk pivoted to face the commander.

“Seems to me that since you and Shiloh are already acquainted and have adjusted to having each other underfoot that
you
should be the one to escort her home.”

No! I don’t trust myself with her!
he thought. Aloud he said, “I think my time would be better spent tracking the two men that survived the confrontation with Fletch. Now that we have a possible headquarters site at Mills Ranch to check out, I might be able to glean valuable information for this case.”

“No doubt,” Ben said. “But protecting our Texas citizens is our foremost concern. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course, but every man here is capable of providing an escort for Shiloh,” he pointed out reasonably.

Hawk’s gaze swung briefly to Shiloh. Although she tilted her curly auburn head to a proud angle, he could see the hurt glittering in her eyes. Not that she wanted him near her again, but neither did she want him to embarrass her by refusing escort duty in front of an audience of Rangers. Damn it, he was unintentionally trouncing on her feelings. She’d had enough of that lately, thanks to that French Casanova from New Orleans. But this was about his self-preservation and fighting the maddening temptation she presented to him.

“Fine.” He tried very hard to keep defeat from seeping into his voice—and didn’t quite succeed. “If Shiloh is agreeable then I’ll gather some supplies and we can head northwest when she is ready to leave.”

Disappointment showed on the Rangers’ faces as they turned and walked away.

“Could you have looked and sounded less pleased with the prospect of accompanying me home?” Shiloh muttered as she surged upright to test her ankle. “But not to worry, Hawk. As soon as we reach familiar territory, I’ll make my own way. There is no need for me to detain you longer than necessary. You can veer off to scout for Fletch’s bushwhackers and confiscate his stolen horse while I make the last leg of the journey
alone.

“Shi—”

She wheeled to stare squarely at him. Her eyes flashed in irritation. “Did you have to make it sound as if you were grasping any excuse to avoid spending more time with me? I’m just recovering from Antoine’s hurtful rejection. But thank you so much for making me feel about two inches tall in front of the other men.”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”


You didn’t mean to?
Well,
that
makes me feel so much better,” she smirked. “And just so you know, I wasn’t all that enthused about riding off with you, either. But I do have enough common decency not to let your coworkers think I found you unpleasant or offensive!”

“I said I was sorry,” Hawk huffed out.

“Stick your apology where the sun doesn’t shine,” she muttered before she spun around and hobbled off to pack her belongings on her horse.

Hawk heard his brother’s quiet chuckle behind him.
He glared over his shoulder. “If you think that conversation was funny then your sense of humor is skewered,” Hawk growled.

“Watching that spitfire turn you inside out and backward is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.” Fletch lifted his cup in toast. “Her tongue can lay a man’s hide wide open.” He grinned broadly. “But more amazing is that you two set off all sorts of sparks and ignite fires in each other. I find that very interesting.”

“I don’t want fires burning in my wake,” Hawk grumbled as his gaze magnetically shifted to Shiloh.

“Too late, big brother,” Fletch said, snickering. “It’s too damn late.”

 

Shiloh ignored Hawk for the first two hours of their overland jaunt. Clearly, she’d become too sensitive to rejection after her dealings with Antoine, and her ill-fated fascination for Hawk made her touchy. Listening to Hawk’s attempt to pawn her off on another escort earlier that morning had cut to the quick—and she hadn’t gotten over it yet.

“How long is this cold-shoulder routine going to last?” Hawk asked a half hour later.

Shiloh flung her nose in the air. “Until I die. Or you die. Whichever comes first.”

“I’m sorry I offended you,” he murmured as he led the way toward the tree-lined creek to water the horses and take a lunch break.

“You can offend me any time you please, but not when there is an audience. Understood? You cannot imagine how difficult it was for me to hold my tongue and not flail you alive in front of your coworkers!”

“I’m surprised you restrained yourself,” he mocked.

Shiloh twisted in the saddle to glare poison darts at
him. “We were among your peers. It was common courtesy. Something you obviously know nothing about.”

“Too true,” he surprised her by agreeing. “I didn’t grow up learning society’s protocol and practicing dignified manners.
Savage
and
heathen
are the words whites usually use to describe my kind. The fact is that each civilization has its own set of rules and customs. In fact, if you were living in an Apache village, your tendency to speak your mind and contradict a man every time you feel like it would earn you a private tepee on the edge of camp and a reputation as a woman possessed by evil spirits.”

“Speaking my mind in the presence of gentlemen, who consider women too dense and uneducated to have an opinion, has gotten me in trouble in the
white
culture,” she informed him. “I might be a misfit but I see no reason to kowtow to men who think it’s their natural-born right to lord over me.”

To her surprise, Hawk chuckled. “So that’s why your brothers are trying to marry you off to someone miles away in New Orleans. Out of sight and out of earshot, much to their relief, I suspect.”

The teasing remark caused Shiloh to frown thoughtfully. Had Hawk hit upon the underlying reason why Gideon and Noah had packed her off to stay with her aunt and cousin in New Orleans? Had she become too outspoken, too hoydenish, too confrontational? Obviously.

“Before you get bent out of shape again,” he put in hurriedly, “I was only teasing you, although I probably shouldn’t have.” He shifted restlessly on the saddle then flung her a fleeting glance. “You’re not that bad, Shiloh.”

“Not that bad?”
she repeated in offended dignity.

“The point is that every Ranger in camp would have leaped at the chance to exchange places with me so he can spend time alone with you.” He stared at her momentarily, then glanced the other way. “How many more hopeless admirers do you need following at your heels to reassure you that you appeal to all men everywhere?”

“For your information, Chief Know-It-All, I don’t feed on masculine attention,” she said huffily. “That is not how I define myself or count my worth in the world. I have no desire to be a man’s financial acquisition or trophy bride—”

Shiloh blinked, startled, when he thrust up his hand abruptly and halted his horse. His attention shifted to the thick underbrush. After a moment he motioned for her to follow closely behind him.

“Furthermore, I am inexperienced at coquettish games, which obviously made me an easy target for a man like Antoine, who relies on his calculated charm and skills of seduction,” she said in a quieter voice.

Hawk gnashed his teeth when the vision of some French dandy, decked out in expensive velvet waistcoats and ruffled shirts, popped to mind. He could imagine Shiloh being lured in by that suave predator. The thought of the man touching Shiloh familiarly, claiming her innocence like a prize, made his blood boil.

And damn it, she did have every right to be bitter, wary and angry, he mused. She had been manipulated and carelessly discarded. Any so-called gentleman who treated a lady so callously deserved to be poisoned, shot and hanged.

Hawk volunteered to mete out the various punishments.

“That’s one of the drawbacks of being born into an
affluent family,” Shiloh went on to say as she ducked beneath a low-hanging limb. “You never know if a man is interested in you or your inheritance. Antoine was content to court me for a time. Fool that I was, I thought it was my dazzling personality that attracted him.” She gave a disillusioned snort. “Turns out that I have no charm and the men in my social circle—and elsewhere—aren’t to be trusted.”

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