Hawk's Prize (26 page)

“Maybe so, but the war’s over.”

“Not for me.”

“You mean because you’re wanted by the Yankees.”

“You know about that?” Drew paused. “I suppose Jenna Leigh does, too.”

“She knows. She also knows you’re in Galveston, but her husband doesn’t.”

Drew did not respond.

“It isn’t easy for Jenna Leigh, Drew. She was ecstatic
when she learned you were alive and she was determined to clear you of all charges . . . but Clay is her husband.”

“A Yankee.”

“A Yankee who knows what it is to have lost somebody in that war. Clay’s brother fought for the Confederacy. He was one of your fellow soldiers who didn’t come back.”

Drew remained silent.

“Clay is a Yankee, but he wants the war to be over and done. He’s determined to restore normalcy in Gal-veston so he can resume the legal duties he was trained for, but it hasn’t been easy for him, either. Jenna Leigh was one of his most outspoken opponents when he came here.”

“It looks like he won her over, though.”

Drew’s frigid tone drew a frown to Whit’s face as he said, “You can hold on to your anger if you want, Drew, but right now we’ve got a bigger problem to face, whether you know it or not.”

“I know. His name is Simon Gault.”

Whit stared at him for a silent moment before responding, “I don’t really know if Gault hates me personally, or if he just hates everybody bearing the Hawk name.”

“I talked to him today, you know.”

“You what?”

“I went to see him in his office—the office that used to belong to our father.”

“Pa lost that office . . . he lost that shipping business all by himself. Gault had nothing to do with it.”

“I know, but I can’t help thinking Pa’s influence has
something to do with the way Gault is acting right now.”

“Maybe.”

“That’s what I was thinking when I decided I needed to meet him and find out for myself if he was the kind of man who could be responsible for everything bad that’s happened.”

Whit stiffened. “What did you decide?”

Drew gave a low snort. “It wasn’t hard. That fella hated me from the minute he laid eyes on me—maybe even before. I didn’t need any more than a few minutes with him to see that. The fact that he tried to pull a gun on me spoke for itself, too.”

“He pulled a gun on you?”

“I said
he tried.
It didn’t work out.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he’s going to have a sore hand for a while. I took that opportunity to give him fair warning that if he ever touched anybody important to me again, it would be the last time.”

Whit nodded, and then said, “That’s all well and good, but Gault’s vicious. He’s also determined.”

“Like I said, I’ve given him fair warning.”

Whit straightened up. Linking his hard-eyed gaze with Drew’s, he said, “Well, I figure two Hawks are better than one when it comes to defending the family name.”

Drew smiled at that. His smile faded when Whit added, “In the meantime, there’s somebody you need to talk to about where she stands right now.”

Drew stopped Whit before he could go any further. His gaze was unyielding when he said, “I’m not your
little brother anymore, Whit. What’s between Tricia and me is our business—but I’ll tell you this just so you’ll understand. My best friend was killed a little while after we arrived in Galveston, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before anybody can convince me that his connection to me had nothing to do with it. I won’t take the chance that somebody will try to get to me through Tricia. I won’t take that chance with her safety.”

“That’s her decision.”

“No, it’s mine.”

Whit shrugged his powerful shoulders. “Well, you’re going to have to tell her that, then, because she’s waiting outside in the hall to talk to you.”

Silent, unable to move when Whit turned and walked out the door, Drew was still staring in that direction when Tricia stepped into sight.

“Are you glad to see me, Drew?” she asked softly.

Still motionless, Drew did not respond. Was he glad to see her? He wondered if she knew how she looked framed in that shabby doorframe with the light from the hallway glinting on her fair hair, and her exquisite features drawn into an uncertain expression. He wondered if she knew how desperately he wanted to close the distance between them and take her into his arms to reassure her . . . how he wanted to feel her close . . . how he wanted to shut that door behind her and bury himself inside her.

He also wondered if she knew that despite all that he was determined to keep her at arm’s length.

When he did not immediately respond to her question, Tricia took a step toward him and whispered, “It
wasn’t hard to find you, you know. Fellas talk real freely in a bordello and everybody knows you’ve been questioning people on the docks about Simon. I can understand what you’re trying to do . . . to find out. What I don’t understand is why you left me without saying good-bye.”

Suddenly aware that they were becoming the object of inquisitive looks from passersby in the hallway, Drew took Tricia’s arm and pulled her inside as he closed the door behind them. “You shouldn’t be here. People will get the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean?” Tricia challenged him boldly. “They’ll think Chantalle’s daughter is going into business on her own, or maybe that she’s a determined whore out to get her man?”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Why not, Drew? That’s the way I feel right now.” Taking a step closer, she said more softly, “But you could change all that with just a few words.

When Drew still did not respond, Tricia said hoarsely, “You’re going to have to say it, Drew. I need to hear you say good-bye or I—”

Unable to bear a moment more of Tricia’s uncertainty, Drew scooped her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. He heard her soft gasp when their lips touched—or was it his gasp? He felt her melt against him, and his kiss surged deeper. He was lost in the wonder of all that Tricia was. He was quivering with wanting her when a sudden thud in the hallway preceded the sound of voices raised in a drunken argument, and reality returned.

Breathless as he pushed Tricia away from him, he whispered, “This isn’t the way I want things to be for us, Tricia. I don’t want you here in a place where your safety is protected by a flimsy lock on the door. I want you surrounded by people who value you, who will protect you with their lives. I want to know you’re as safe as you can be.”

Her voice turbulent with emotion, Tricia replied, “I’ll be safe if you take me with you.”

“That’s not true. I can’t even assure my own safety at present, but with Whit . . . with the two of us walking side by side or fighting back to back, we will be as safe as we possibly can be.” Drew saw the tears that filled Tricia’s eyes as he whispered, “But if you need to hear the words, here they are. Yes, even though I’m angry that you came, I’m glad to see you. Yes, I want you. Yes, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done to keep my distance from you at this minute, but I also know it’s necessary if I’m ever going to get to the bottom of what’s been going on since I arrived in Galveston.” Pausing, he whispered, “Do you understand what I’m saying, Tricia? Just like you, I need to hear the words, and I need to hear them now.”

Drew noted the moment when Tricia’s expression started to change. Sobering, she raised her chin. Her eyes filled with love, she whispered, “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand that this is something you and Whit need to do together.” A quivering smile moved across her lips as she said, “I admit that I feel better knowing that Whit will be watching your back and you’ll be watching his. I figure that the two of you
are a formidable force, and I couldn’t ask for more—except for it to be over.”

Nodding, Drew took Tricia’s arm. “Come on, I’d better take you back to Chantalle’s right now . . . before I change my mind.”

Tricia did not reply when Drew steered her toward the door.

Whit started toward them with an uncertain expression when they stepped down into the lobby. Drew said, “I’m going to take Tricia back to Chantalle’s, where she’ll be safe. If you want to use my room for the night, we’ll have a chance to talk when I get back.”

“That’s fine with me.” Whit tipped his hat to Tricia and started up the staircase as she and Drew moved toward the door.

A short time later, Tricia was pushing open the door to her room as Drew commented, “Your door is unlocked. You should lock it.”

“Why? I’m safe here.”

“Tricia, please . . . make sure you lock it from now on.”

Nodding, Tricia entered and turned up the lamp. He saw the tears that glinted in her eyes as she said, “Thank you for bringing me home, Drew. I know you worry about me, but I don’t want that. I’m safe here, so you can do what you have to do. I’ll be waiting.”

Moving closer to her, he looked down into her pale face. He brushed away a tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye as he murmured, “You said you needed to hear the words. I need to say them, too.” He took a breath and whispered, “I love you, Tricia. You’re my angel. You always will be.”

Tricia replied in a trembling voice, “I love you, too, Drew . . . so very much.”

Drew enveloped Tricia’s slenderness in his embrace.

The last remnants of his control slipped away when she raised her mouth to his and he kissed her passionately, lovingly . . . and nudged the door closed behind them.

The constant click-clacking of the wheels continued in the predawn darkness outside the train window. Lying wakefully in a small stateroom as the train made its way unerringly toward Galveston, Jason looked down at Elizabeth. She was dozing in his arms, having been lulled to sleep by the steady rocking of their coach, but he had not been similarly affected.

As the sun began to rise, Jason studied Elizabeth’s emotionless expression, hardly able to believe that she wore his ring and bore his name, and that she was now officially his to love for the rest of their lives.

Their wedding in New York had been a simple affair attended by Mother Ella’s servants . . . and Trevor. It had been intended to be conducted in the elegance of the downstairs parlor, but was held at the last minute in Mother Ella’s bedroom when she became too ill to be moved. To the old woman’s obvious joy, Elizabeth had worn Ella’s ecru bridal gown. Jason cherished the
memory of the woman’s joyful smile when Elizabeth and he exchanged their vows, and he knew he would never forget the moment when Ella drew him down toward her and whispered, “You’re a good man, Jason. I can rest now that I know you’ll take care of Elizabeth and she’ll never have to suffer alone the nightmares that plague her. Thank you for that. Thank you for giving me peace.”

It had been difficult to say good-bye.

Elizabeth stirred, and Jason frowned. So many uncertainties awaited them in Galveston. Elizabeth still had no memory of her childhood. If Chantalle was correct and Elizabeth’s pendant did bear the same crest as the ring that Whit Hawk had shown her, Elizabeth might soon be reunited with a member of the family that she had gone to the city seeking. Jason had not yet said anything to Elizabeth about that possibility fearful of raising a hope that might cause her more pain if it were dashed.

He had written to Chantalle, telling her the approximate date of their return and had asked her to arrange to have his quarters readied for them. He could only hope that the mystery of the crests would have been settled by the time they arrived.

Weighing heavily on Jason’s mind, however, was his certainty that Simon Gault’s collaboration with the enemy during the war, had resulted in the deaths of dozens of innocent seamen—his dear friend Byron Mosley included. He had sworn that he would expose Gault and achieve justice for his victims, however belatedly, and he did not intend to forsake that vow.

His congenial relationship with the men of the Galveston
consortium had also led him to believe that, for some reason, Gault was trying to convince them that Houston was not a threat to Galveston’s commercial future—when he knew the exact opposite to be true. Jason needed to find out why before it was too late.

Jason watched as Elizabeth stirred again. She opened her eyes slowly. The gold and green sparks in their depths came to life when she asked, “What are you thinking, Jason?”

Overwhelmed by his love for her, he whispered, “That’s a secret.”

“A secret?” Elizabeth’s gaze dropped briefly to his lips. “I thought we didn’t have secrets from each other anymore.”

“You’re partially right. It’s no secret how much I love you, but the
mystery
of the many ways that I intend to prove my love still remains.”

Chuckling when Elizabeth flushed, Jason continued, “We can look forward to solving that mystery over the years to come, Elizabeth, but right now we need to think about getting our things together. We’ll reach Galveston in a few hours.”

“Galveston . . .” Elizabeth’s expression became uncertain. “I have a strange feeling . . .” Elizabeth forced a smile before continuing, “I’m glad you maintained contact with Chantalle while I tended to Mother Ella’s affairs. I’m happy that we’re returning to the city, but—I can’t explain why—I feel a strange sense of dread, almost as if one wrong move and our future together will be threatened.”

“Elizabeth—”

“It’s foolish, I know.”

“No, it isn’t foolish, but I’ll make you a promise.” Earnest, Jason whispered, “You don’t have to worry about the unknown, because I’ll be at your side whatever happens—and I’ll protect you with my life.”

“I’m not asking that, Jason! I don’t want you to risk your life for any reason.”

When Jason did not reply, Elizabeth continued as earnestly as he, “Jason . . . you’re the most important person in my life. The future would stretch out black and cheerless for me if you weren’t there to share it with me.”

“Elizabeth—”

“It isn’t
my
future that I look forward to. It’s
our
future.”

Our future.

Those two words rang in Jason’s mind as the train continued rocking along the tracks. Emotion a hard knot in his throat, he was momentarily unable to voice a response. Strangely enough, a sense of dread similar to the feelings that Elizabeth had described had been the cause of his wakefulness through the night, but he did not dare to confess that thought to her. He had no desire to add fear to her list of uncertainties.