what happened. I’m sorry about the rattlesnake. I know the hands can get rowdy sometimes, but—”
“It’s all right. I’m used to it.”
“You are? But the snake could have struck you.”
Hawk shrugged. “It’s always been this way for me. I’ve come to expect it.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about Fred anymore. He’s gone now.”
“That’s good to know.” Hawk would have liked to believe that Randi was right, but he’d run into men like Fred before. He knew what they were capable of, so he wasn’t about to let his guard down yet. “I’d better get on back to the bunkhouse.”
Hawk started to turn away.
“Wait!” Randi closed the distance between them and took the towel he’d been using out of his hand. “You’re still bleeding.”
She pressed the towel to the cut on his forehead and held it there to stanch the bleeding. Randi gazed up at Hawk as she ministered to him. She noticed how his jaw was set, and to her that was a sure sign he was in pain. She wished there were some way she could make things better for him.
Hawk’s jaw was set, all right, but it wasn’t because of the pain. His jaw was locked because he was fighting for his self-control. The gentleness of Randi’s touch deeply disturbed him. He was far too aware of her very nearness for his own good. No other female had affected him this way since Jessie, and his reaction to her troubled him. He didn’t want to be attracted to anyone. He didn’t want to care about Randi. There could be no future for them.
Hawk deliberately forced his gaze away from her to stare off into the distance, but a moment of weakness overcame him and he looked back and let his gaze drop to the sweetness of her lips. He found himself wondering what it would be like to take her in his arms and kiss her. Heat stirred within him at the thought, putting his willpower to the test. Hawk knew he had to get away from Randi—now. Abruptly, he reached up and took the towel out of her hand.
“Thanks. It’ll be all right.”
“If you’re sure . . .”
“I’m sure.” Hawk strode quickly away from her without looking back. The feelings Randi stirred within him were far too dangerous for his peace of mind.
He had to keep his distance from her.
He was on the Lazy S to catch rustlers.
That was all.
Fred wasted no time riding into San Miguel. He headed straight for the Silver Dollar Saloon. He was planning to get good and drunk, and then he was going to figure out a way to get even with his former boss.
“Evening, Fred,” Denny Magrane, the bartender, welcomed him. “What are you doing in town? I didn’t expect to see you until the weekend, Friday being payday and all.”
Fred ignored his small talk as he went to stand at the bar. “Give me a double.”
Denny knew from the tone of Fred’s voice that something was wrong—very wrong. He quickly set a glass before him and poured him a healthy dose of whiskey.
“Thanks.” Fred lifted the glass and took a hearty drink. He sighed out loud when he finally put the empty tumbler back on the bar. “That’s better.”
“So what brings you to town?”
“Stockton fired me—the bastard,” he snarled, lifting his glass to Denny for a refill before taking another deep swig of the potent liquor.
Denny was surprised. “You’ve been working at the Lazy S for a long time. What happened?”
“A new man Jack hired on—some half-breed—picked a fight with me, and I’m the one he fired.”
Denny knew Trey Roberts, the saloon owner, would want to hear this news right away. “Well, it may not be all bad news. Maybe you got better things coming your way.”
Fred snorted in derision and emptied the glass again. He pushed it toward Denny for another refill. As the barkeep started to oblige, Fred stopped him.
“I tell you what—just give me the whole damned bottle,” he told him.
Denny passed it over. Fred took his glass and the half-full bottle with him and went to sit at one of the more
“It’s all right. I’m used to it.”
“You are? But the snake could have struck you.”
Hawk shrugged. “It’s always been this way for me. I’ve come to expect it.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about Fred anymore. He’s gone now.”
“That’s good to know.” Hawk would have liked to believe that Randi was right, but he’d run into men like Fred before. He knew what they were capable of, so he wasn’t about to let his guard down yet. “I’d better get on back to the bunkhouse.”
Hawk started to turn away.
“Wait!” Randi closed the distance between them and took the towel he’d been using out of his hand. “You’re still bleeding.”
She pressed the towel to the cut on his forehead and held it there to stanch the bleeding. Randi gazed up at Hawk as she ministered to him. She noticed how his jaw was set, and to her that was a sure sign he was in pain. She wished there were some way she could make things better for him.
Hawk’s jaw was set, all right, but it wasn’t because of the pain. His jaw was locked because he was fighting for his self-control. The gentleness of Randi’s touch deeply disturbed him. He was far too aware of her very nearness for his own good. No other female had affected him this way since Jessie, and his reaction to her troubled him. He didn’t want to be attracted to anyone. He didn’t want to care about Randi. There could be no future for them.
Hawk deliberately forced his gaze away from her to stare off into the distance, but a moment of weakness overcame him and he looked back and let his gaze drop to the sweetness of her lips. He found himself wondering what it would be like to take her in his arms and kiss her. Heat stirred within him at the thought, putting his willpower to the test. Hawk knew he had to get away from Randi—now. Abruptly, he reached up and took the towel out of her hand.
“Thanks. It’ll be all right.”
“If you’re sure . . .”
“I’m sure.” Hawk strode quickly away from her without looking back. The feelings Randi stirred within him were far too dangerous for his peace of mind.
He had to keep his distance from her.
He was on the Lazy S to catch rustlers.
That was all.
Fred wasted no time riding into San Miguel. He headed straight for the Silver Dollar Saloon. He was planning to get good and drunk, and then he was going to figure out a way to get even with his former boss.
“Evening, Fred,” Denny Magrane, the bartender, welcomed him. “What are you doing in town? I didn’t expect to see you until the weekend, Friday being payday and all.”
Fred ignored his small talk as he went to stand at the bar. “Give me a double.”
Denny knew from the tone of Fred’s voice that something was wrong—very wrong. He quickly set a glass before him and poured him a healthy dose of whiskey.
“Thanks.” Fred lifted the glass and took a hearty drink. He sighed out loud when he finally put the empty tumbler back on the bar. “That’s better.”
“So what brings you to town?”
“Stockton fired me—the bastard,” he snarled, lifting his glass to Denny for a refill before taking another deep swig of the potent liquor.
Denny was surprised. “You’ve been working at the Lazy S for a long time. What happened?”
“A new man Jack hired on—some half-breed—picked a fight with me, and I’m the one he fired.”
Denny knew Trey Roberts, the saloon owner, would want to hear this news right away. “Well, it may not be all bad news. Maybe you got better things coming your way.”
Fred snorted in derision and emptied the glass again. He pushed it toward Denny for another refill. As the barkeep started to oblige, Fred stopped him.
“I tell you what—just give me the whole damned bottle,” he told him.
Denny passed it over. Fred took his glass and the half-full bottle with him and went to sit at one of the more
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