Heart of Thunder by Johanna Lindsey Page A

to his sister’s comfort, and when the food was ready he brought her a plate. Samantha bristled. He was still ignoring her. The old timer offered her a plate, but she declined, wanting to wash first. She felt grime from the stage all over her. She would have changed clothes, but the luggage was not unloaded forthis short stop, and she didn’t feel like asking anyone’s help in getting one of her cases down.
    When, at last, Hank Chavez came into the room, Samantha couldn’t help but stare at the remarkable change. He had shaved and was even more handsome without the beard. He had changed into a dark gray shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons, which matched his eyes.
    As soon as those slate-gray eyes fell on her, Samantha looked away. She walked past him without a word, picked up the lantern he had set down, and went out into the back yard. By the well was a stone ledge on which sat an empty bucket and a large tin pan of dirty water from the others who had washed there. Samantha put the lantern down there and emptied the dirty water, then poured in fresh cold water from the well. Using the handkerchief from her purse, she bent to wash her face and hands, her throat and neck, and between her breasts.
    She laid the handkerchief out on the ledge to dry, then briskly fastened her blouse. She wouldn’t repeat the mistake of leaving it unbuttoned! She grew uneasy all over again remembering the hot eyes on her.
    A footstep made Samantha swing around, gasping. Hank Chavez stood a foot away. The back door to the house was closed, she saw, which meant that they were alone in the yard. Samantha could feel her heart pounding wildly, but she moved back a step and tilted her head, looking as calm and in charge of the situation as she could. His eyes weren’t laughing. The crinkles were gone, and that frightened her even more.
    At last he spoke. “I forgot my hat.”
    “Oh,” she sighed. “Well, you certainly gave me a start, coming up behind me so quietly.”
    Lord! How long had they stood there looking at each other without speaking?
    “I did not mean to frighten you, Señorita Blackstone, but you should not be out here alone.”

    “Nonsense.” She laughed, her fear receding. “I am close enough to the house. Besides, the passengers from the stage are the only ones here. And I trust all of them.”
    “But you should not, señorita . You do not even know me.”
    He said it so seriously that she stepped back and reached for her purse, taking it from the ledge. She could easily get to her new double derringer if she had to. She had bought the Remington model soon after Tom Peesley had harassed her. A two-bullet gun was better than the old model.
    “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you, señor? ” she asked smoothly.
    “I am saying only that I am a stranger and you should not be so trusting of strangers. But let me assure you now that you can indeed trust me.”
    She grinned at him. “Considering your advice, assurance from a stranger is no assurance at all.”
    He laughed heartily, a deep, warm laugh. “Ah, la señorita is not only bella , but sabia , as well.”
    Samantha tilted her head to the side, deciding to pretend ignorance. “And what does that mean?”
    He reached out a hand as if to touch her cheek, but quickly thought better of the intimate gesture. “That you are wise as well as beautiful.”
    “Well, thank you,” she answered, smiling to herself because he hadn’t lied. She knew Spanish very well.
    It was a game she played with people who did not know she could speak the language fluently. It was a sure way to test a person’s honesty. Hank Chavez had passed the test.
    She had admitted to herself some time before that she was drawn to him. His virile magnetism affected her strongly, but she wasn’t sure exactly why. He was handsome, of course, but she had known other handsome men, and his appearance was not the only attraction. There was something different about Hank, adangerous quality. A touch of the