Heart of the Hawk (33 page)

His steps slowed. He felt the shotgun shells in his pocket. He pulled them out, looking at them speculatively.

If he believed in the book, he had to believe in all of it, he thought. And if he believed the book was right about his death, here in Gambler’s Notch before the end of this last week of May, then he had to believe it was right about the Hawks as well, that they would continue. Which meant . . .

Which meant Kate was already pregnant. With his child. The mere thought nearly staggered him.

But she’d said she couldn’t be, thanks to Arly’s beatings. Which meant he couldn’t be going to die. Didn’t it? His mind was whirling so fast he couldn’t begin to sort it all out.

“Josh? Are you all right?”

He mumbled something at the boy that was supposed to be reassuring. Luke looked at him doubtfully, but Josh was too distracted by his thoughts.

If the book wasn’t right about his death, then what? If he wasn’t going to be buried here in Gambler’s Notch, his grave to probably become a place of minor fame for as long as it took people to forget he’d ever existed, then didn’t that prove the book was a . . . joke? A bad magic trick perpetrated by some long-dead wizard who perhaps had had one too many cups of mead before muttering his incantation?

But it had been right about so much. . . .

May 1878—Gunfighter Joshua Hawk buried in Gambler’s Notch, Wyoming Territory.

His eyes widened. He stopped in his tracks.

“Josh?” Luke had stopped beside him, looking up at him with some concern.

“You go on, Luke. Take the dress to Kate. Tell her I’ll . . . see her later.”

“But—”

“Go, Luke. I need to go see Hatch.”

“Oh.” Then, brightening, “Can I come up later?”

“You do that.”

Luke grinned, and hastened off to deliver the new dress. Just as well, Josh thought; Kate would most likely throw it back at him.

He trotted across the street, warily watching his back, knowing he’d made a deadly enemy by humiliating Will Dixon in public. Henry Meeker gave him a wary nod as he stepped into the lobby of the Grand Hotel. Josh returned it as he took the stairs two at a time.

He opened the door when Hatch answered his call.

“Saw that move you pulled from the window here,” Hatch said with a grin as he wheeled his chair around to face Josh. “You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Have you lost yours?”

Hatch lifted a brow. “Mine?”

“Time was, you knew more about every kind of gun made than any man alive.

“Time was,” Hatch agreed.

Josh tossed him the two shotgun shells. “I hope you still do,” he said.

Then he sat down and began to talk. And when Luke arrived sometime later, the boy quickly found himself pressed into service as a messenger. And eventually, one by one, several members of the population of Gambler’s Notch made their way to the Grand Hotel.

KATE’S HEART WAS pounding as she stood in Deborah’s parlor, smoothing her hands over the folds of the first new dress she’d had in years, the first dress that had actually fit her in just as long. It was the dress Josh had suggested she take when it had arrived at the store. She hadn’t wanted it then, but she accepted it now with an odd sense that it was a symbol of some kind, of a new life she was about to begin.

Barely ten minutes after leaving yesterday, Luke had returned bearing the unexpected gift of the dress and the thankful news that Josh was all right. The boy had been full of admiring excitement at The Hawk’s handling of the big bully, and she herself hadn’t been able to stop a small tug of selfishly pleased amusement at Will Dixon’s very public embarrassment.

But Josh hadn’t come back. She had been nearly frantic by the time Luke had returned again, this time with a message from Josh. The message that had brought them to this pass today.

“Everything will be all right, Kate,” Deborah said soothingly.

Kate wished she could believe that. But that ominous entry in the Hawk book haunted her, and she wondered with dread if this might be the day it came true. But she smiled at the couple standing beside her, unable to dim her friend’s obvious joy with her own fears.

Alex and Deborah had quite given up worrying what anyone else thought of the inappropriateness of the young lawyer courting a woman older than he. It did Kate’s heart good to look at them even as she wondered what her own future held.

She sighed heavily. Was she being a fool yet again? Was she placing too much faith in a few moments of exquisite pleasure in the night? She shook her head, as if that could rid her of the painfully sweet images.

No, she told herself firmly. It wasn’t just that. It was the evenings spent reading, the days spent working companionably side by side. It was the way Josh treated her, with a respect and consideration so ingrained in him she knew it was automatic, that it was as natural to him as the constant cruelty had been to Arly. As it was to Arly’s brother.

She shivered. Half the town had heard Will Dixon swear he would kill Josh on sight. And the entire town knew that he was savage enough to do it. In only four days in Gambler’s Notch, he’d made his late brother look gentle by comparison; at least Arly had been drunk and only semiconscious half the time.

“It’s noon, Kate. Let’s go for that walk.”

She shivered again, but nodded. Alex held the door for Deborah and Kate, then closed it behind them. It was a bright, sunny day, a harbinger of the summer to come. As they walked, Kate tried to see it as a good omen, but so little had gone right in her life, she couldn’t seem to find the faith to believe it. Or to hope that somehow things had changed, simply because a man called The Hawk had come into her life.

They were in front of the hotel when she heard Will Dixon roar. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat, cutting off her breath. She looked at the mercantile that had once been the center of her life, in time to see Josh coming out the door. He stepped out into the street and walked toward the saloon. He never even looked at Kate, or at Art Rankin, who was standing outside the stable, or at Marshal Pike, who was in his office
doorway, arms folded across his chest, covering his badge.

Seconds later, shotgun in his hands, Dixon charged out onto the boardwalk. Josh didn’t turn.

“I told you you’d be a dead man if you came back here!”

Dixon’s bellow made Kate shiver yet again. Josh kept walking, his back to the infuriated man. Dear God, was it really going to happen? She saw Marshal Pike move, stepping down into the street.

“Turn around, Hawk! Or are you afraid to face me?”

Josh took another three steps. He stopped and glanced around as if to be sure of how far he’d come. Then, slowly, he turned around. Dixon moved then, stepping off the boardwalk. Josh tensed as if to move, but when Dixon stopped in the street in front of the mercantile, Josh stayed where he was.

“Why didn’t you just backshoot me, Dixon? You’re the type. Just like your brother was.”

With a howl of rage Dixon lifted the shotgun. In the same instant, Josh’s hand flashed down toward his Colt. The sound of the six-shooter was lost in the blast of both barrels of the shotgun going off at once.

As the echo died away, Dixon stood there, gaping stupidly. The others stared. Kate cried out despite herself.

Joshua Hawk was facedown in the dusty street.

Before anyone else could move, Marshal Pike was there. A second later, Art was beside him, both of them huddled around Josh’s body, almost hiding it. Dixon moved, but the marshal gestured him back warningly. Pike looked at Art, and shook his head. Art looked back at Kate.

“Keep her away,” he called to Alex. “His head’s practically blown off.”

Kate couldn’t help the scream that escaped her. Alex gripped her arm to steady her. She watched mutely as the marshal pulled off his coat and spread it over the body. She stood there staring.

The legend of The Hawk had ended. As the book had predicted, The Hawk had died in Gambler’s Notch.

Chapter 23

“IT WAS A NICE funeral, wasn’t it?” Luke said.

“Very,” Kate agreed.

“Reverend Babcock even said some nice things, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did.”

She tugged at the short jacket of the new traveling dress she’d bought, a pale yellow, fine wool trimmed in lace that was decidedly unwidowlike and lit her eyes to the gold Josh had once told her they were.

“An’ Mr. Rankin made a really nice marker, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Kate agreed yet again.

“I like that part about ‘Here lies the no-no . . .’ ”

“Notorious,” Alex supplied.

“Yeah! ‘The notorious gunfighter known as The Hawk,’ ” Luke finished with a wide smile.

“Hush, Luke,” Kate cautioned; the train platform was too full of people for her taste, and too many of them could hear the boy. The engine let out a hiss, and she looked around a little nervously.

“Notorious is the word, all right,” Alex said. “Frank Boardman telegraphed every newspaper for five hundred miles around. Pretty soon Will Dixon will be famous as the man who killed The Hawk.”

Kate winced.

“Not worried about that bully, are you Kate?” Alex asked.

“Of course not. I hope someone like Carter or Robards comes after him tomorrow. But I still hate the sound of that.”

“Sorry,” Alex said, but he was smiling.

“I wanna see the engine again!” Luke exclaimed as another warning hiss of steam came.

“You just mind the time,” Kate warned, and the boy bobbed his head as he went to examine the huge wheels and the steam pistons that drove them.

Deborah threw her arms around her friend. “You take care now. And you will write me”—she glanced with shy pride at Alex—“
us
when you get settled?”

“Of course.”

“Are you sure you have everything you need? Your new clothes? Money?”

Kate nodded, answering the oft repeated question yet again. “I packed all three dresses. I can even afford to buy more in San Francisco, if I want. There’s the money from the store, and from Marshal Pike.”

A soft smile curved her lips as she remembered thanking the people of Gambler’s Notch for their subtle help, and recalled how the crusty marshal had blushed when she’d thanked him for turning over the five hundred dollars reward money that he’d discovered had been out on Jackson Carter. And she’d silently added another thank you; she had a fairly strong feeling the marshal had guessed the part she’d played in Arly’s death, but he’d never spoken of it, to her or anyone else.

“And you can travel in comfort,” Alex said. “A stateroom will be much nicer than one of those passenger cars. You’ll be in San Francisco, in luxury at that new Palace Hotel, before you know it.”

“Perhaps you’ll want to stay there,” Deborah said hopefully, “rather than go on to that Seattle place. I don’t know why you settled on that, anyway.”

And I couldn’t begin to explain it to you,
Kate thought
.

The whistle blew, and Kate knew it was time.

“Luke!” she called, afraid the boy would still be hanging on to the side of the engine as the train pulled out. The boy’s head popped into view from between the locomotive and the coal car. “Now,” she called, and he nodded and began to clamber down.

Then she turned back to Alex and Deborah.

“Thank you . . . for everything,” she said, her eyes beginning to brim.

“Don’t thank us,” Alex said gently. “Just be happy, Kate.”

She hugged him then, thankful for Deborah’s sake for Alex’s solid, strong goodness. Then she hugged Deborah again. And when the conductor’s final call came, she gestured to Luke and stepped aboard the train. With a final wave, she turned her back on her friends, afraid she would begin weeping if she looked at them any longer. She couldn’t help wondering if she would ever see them again. She made her way down the narrow passageway to the compartment labeled with the number five. She opened the door and stepped into the small stateroom.

The moment she was inside, a man’s strong arm came around her from behind, and she was pulled hard against a solid, muscular body. She gave a startled cry, a cry which died in her throat as she was turned around and pair of hot, eager lips claimed hers.

“Josh,” she murmured against his mouth, slipping her arms around his neck.

His hands slid down her back, pressing her even harder against him. His tongue probed her mouth, and when he withdrew, she returned the favor. He shuddered when her tongue slipped past the even line of his teeth to taste him.

She could feel the thick, hot ridge of his arousal through the fine wool of her new dress. She shifted her hips, caressing him, and he shuddered again as his hands crept up to cup her breasts. She made a soft, tiny sound, a sound of welcome, of joy, and it was echoed in the rumble rising from deep in his chest as he spoke her name.

“Are you gonna kiss all the way to San Francisco?”

Luke’s voice, sounding innocently curious, broke the spell.

“Maybe,” Josh said gruffly, making Kate smile.

“And maybe,” she added, “all the way to Seattle on the boat.”

Luke groaned. “This is gonna be a boring trip.”

With a stifled sigh that made Kate smile again, Josh released her. He didn’t back away, however, but stood behind her, and heat and color stained her cheeks as she realized why; he was still obviously aroused, and was hiding the fact behind her skirts. She would tease him about that later, she thought. Much later, she thought, the anticipation of being alone with him again increasing the heat infusing her.

“Don’t go thinking that because you did such a good job back in Gambler’s Notch you’re running things now,” Josh said sternly.

Luke only grinned. “I did do good, didn’t I?”

Josh relented and grinned back. “Yes, you did. You sneaked those shells Hatch doctored up into that shotgun slick as can be.”

“Well, Mr. Rankin helped,” Luke said generously, “pitchin’ that fit over that new anvil he never really ordered, he kept ol’ Arly’s brother real distracted.”

“I’m just grateful it worked,” Kate said fervently.

“Barely a scratch here and there,” Josh said, still grinning. “Hatch knows what he’s doing. Lightened those loads just enough for that distance. Nearly as much noise, but not much range.”

“It scared me for a minute,” Luke said.

“Me, too,” Kate agreed, shivering at the memory. “It all seemed so . . . real.”

“Especially since you’d been expecting it to happen anyway?” Josh suggested quietly.

She couldn’t deny that. “ ‘Joshua Hawk buried in Gambler’s Notch, Wyoming Territory,’ ” she quoted softly.

“Is that really what made you think of it?” Luke asked. “That line in the book?”

Josh nodded. “Not died. It never really said that. Just ‘buried.’ ”

Luke laughed. “Folks’ll come from all over to see your grave. An’ you’re not even in it.”

“A fact I’m very thankful for,” Josh said pointedly.

“Bless Deborah for thinking of the reason you couldn’t be put on display like some . . . some . . .” Kate shook her head as words failed her.

“I know,” Josh agreed. “That would have been hard to pull off. But since—how did Boardman put it in those telegrams? ‘The Hawk’s face was left unrecognizable by the shotgun blast that killed him—’ ”

He stopped when Kate shivered. “I don’t like hearing it, even now.” Then, curious, she looked at him. “You said that like . . . like The Hawk was someone else.”

Josh shook his head. “He’s someone I’ve left behind. Forever.”

Kate smiled. “We’ve enough money for a good start.”

He nodded. “And enough for something else.”

“What?”

“I wired ahead, Kate. There’s a minister in the next town. We’ll be there just long enough for him to marry us.”

Her eyes widened in shock. Josh looked suddenly doubtful.

“Didn’t you . . . you didn’t think we were just going to . . .” He took an audible breath and tried again. “I would never expect you to . . . just come with me. You knew I meant for us to get married, didn’t you? I mean,” he added hastily, “if you’ll have me.”

“I . . .” She swallowed tightly.

“I know you’ve no reason to trust in marriage, Kate. You’ve been hurt badly, and it would take an exceptional man to make you believe it’s worth trying again, and I’m hardly that—”

“Aw, she knows you’re different from ol’ Arly; don’t you Kate?” Luke said confidently.

She still couldn’t speak. Josh was looking more doubtful by the moment, but she still couldn’t force any words past the lump in her throat. Luke, on the other hand, was studying her intently, as if wondering why she wasn’t answering. Finally he nudged Josh.

“I think you’re supposed to say as how you like her a lot and such first, aren’t you?”

Josh looked suddenly sheepish. “You’re right. I bow to your superior wisdom, Luke. Now why don’t you . . . er, go check on Buck while I take care of that. He’ll be restless in that freight car for a while.”

Luke looked hesitant.

“We’ll still be here, Luke,” Josh said gently. “We’re . . . family now.”

The boy flushed, but smiled at the same time. Then he turned to go.

“Luke?” Josh called. The boy looked back. “Remember, we’re borrowing your name for a while.”

Luke grinned. “I’ll remember, if’n anyone asks.” He pulled open the door, then looked back again. His eyes went from Kate’s face to Josh’s, then back. “Thanks for . . . askin’ me to come with you, an’ live with you in this Seattle place. It’ll be almost like havin’ my folks back again,” he said in a rush, then was gone, closing the stateroom door behind him before they could respond.

For a long moment Josh and Kate just looked at where the boy had been, clearly moved by what he had said. Finally, Josh put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

“I don’t have much to offer you, Kate, except myself, and that’s not much. I don’t have a trade, but I’ll learn one. The book says . . . we’ll do well in Seattle.”

She smiled at that. They’d both given up questioning the magical book; it had been right every step of the way. When they’d needed a place to go, where no one had ever heard of or would recognize The Hawk, an entry had appeared as if in answer to their need. It had told of the last of the Hawks moving to the young, raw lumber town on the north coast of the Pacific, and flourishing there.

“And I swear I’ll never use a gun to make my way again.”

“I haven’t much to offer you, either,” she said, the first words she’d been able to get out. “You know it’s likely I can’t have children—”

“We have Luke. We’ll make him a Hawk in everything but blood, and that will be enough.”

“But—”

“You have everything I want. And more than I ever thought to find.” He swallowed visibly. “I love you, Kate.”

“Oh, Josh.” The tears that had been threatening brimmed over now. “I never thought I could love anyone. I was afraid to even try. But I love you.”

“Will you, Kate? Will you marry me, and try to make a family out of the three of us?”

“I will, Josh,” she breathed. “I will. And we’ll be a family, Josh. A good one.”

She went into his arms then, and he held her so tightly she felt any remaining doubts slide away. He kissed, gently at first, then more urgently, until at last he lifted his head and whispered, “I wonder how long Luke’s going to be gone?”

“Long enough,” Kate said a little breathlessly, “if we hurry.”

Josh looked down at her, a lazily pleased smile curving his mouth as heat flared in his-eyes. But then, slowly, the passion seemed to ease, and he lifted a hand to cup her face as he shook his head.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said softly. “I want the next time to be with my wife.”

Kate blushed.

“But until then,” he added conversationally, “there are a few other things I’d like to do.”

“What?” Kate asked, wary of the teasing glint she saw in the eyes that were as blue as the Wyoming sky.

“I’ll show you,” he said, reaching for her again.

And it was much, much later that they heard Luke’s plaintive exclamation from the doorway.

“You really
are
gonna kiss all the way to San Francisco, aren’t you?”

JOSH SAT UP sharply, wide awake, the vividness of the dream as astounding as it had been every night this week.

“Josh?”

Kate’s voice was sleepy, and he tried to reassure her. “Go back to sleep, honey.”

She sat up beside him. “Was it that dream again? About the man named Jason?”

He took a deep breath, then nodded. “It’s so . . . real. He looks so much like me, but . . .”

“But what?”

He looked at her, saw her eyes gleaming in the glow of the moonlight through the window. The small cabin he’d built when they’d arrived, on a hill overlooking the island-dotted waters of Puget Sound, was a home now, with a room added on for Luke, and a kitchen for Kate. The main room, as it had always been, was a library, filled with shelves long before they’d had the books to put on them. But they were filling up; in the two years they’d been here, their collection had grown rapidly. The small newspaper Josh had begun was doing well, and had developed a reputation for honesty. He’d found a different way to fight battles similar to those he’d once fought with a gun.