The Ranger. Carol Finch
and feminine allure sparked an ill-fated fascination inside him didn’t change a thing. He’d be every kind of fool if he let himself forget that.
Hawk clamped his arm across the back of Shiloh’s thighs then shifted her on his shoulder so she wouldn’t fall. Grabbing the rope anchored to the mustang that waited above him, he walked south along the narrow ledge, using the same route going up the hillside that he’d taken coming down.
He was one third of the way up the steep embankment when Shiloh regained consciousness. When she reared up, trying to get her bearings, Hawk clamped his arm tighter around her hips.
“It’s just me,” he reassured her hurriedly. “It will be a lot easier for me to negotiate this slope if you’ll stay where you are and hang on to me.”
“You came back for me.” Her voice held a hint of wonder. “I expected you to be long gone by now,” she said as she locked her arms around his waist.
“Just goes to show you how badly you misjudged me.” He grunted as he pulled himself hand over hand to another stone slab. “Right now I’m the best friend you could have because I’m familiar with this area. I grew up here with my clan. I’ll get you to a place that’s dry and safe and then patch you up.”
“Nice of you, since I wouldn’t be in this shape if I hadn’t run into you in the first place. Now here you are, dragging me all over creation.”
Despite the jibe, Hawk detected the hint of wry humor and gratitude in her voice. She wanted him to think she was a foul-tempered shrew, but he had come to realize that beneath that prickly facade was a woman of character and personality. True, she didn’t trust him—but he couldn’t blame her for that. Also true, someone had hurt her deeply and she held every male on the planet responsible.
But who was he to criticize? For several years he had held all palefaces everywhere accountable for the tragic loss of his family and the only way of life he had ever known. Which was why taking refuge in Sundance Canyon was going to be as much of a blessing as it was a curse. He was familiar with the area that would always feel like home to him—but the place triggered too damn many haunting memories.
“Thank you for coming back for me,” Shiloh murmured a moment later, then gave his ribs an appreciative squeeze.
A jolt of pleasure zapped him, but he valiantly tried to ignore it. “You’re welcome. It’s part of my job.”
No matter how many hair-raising predicaments he and Shiloh encountered he wasn’t going to become emotionally attached to her, he promised himself sensibly.
“Just hang on a little longer. We’re almost to the ledge.” He waited a beat then said, “I’m going to twist you around and plant my hands on your fanny so I can lift you over my head. Don’t go getting indignant on me again. I don’t want either of us to take a spill and give DeVol and Stiles a chance to do their worst.”
“Is this an excuse to put your hands all over me again?” she asked suspiciously. “I already have as many of your handprints on me as I have bruises.”
“Are you asking if I’m going to enjoy it?” He chuckled. “Probably. But it’s the most practical method of getting you to safety. That’s my first consideration.”
“Right. All noble intent. How can I keep forgetting that,” she mumbled against the taut tendons of his back.
“When I say go, you’re going to twist and lunge in the same motion,” he instructed. “You’ll probably land hard, but I won’t be in a position to be gentle with you while I’m dangling over the cliff and hanging on to this lifeline…. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she murmured.
He felt her tense in anticipation of being shoved onto the shelf of jagged stone. But to her credit she didn’t wail in pain and give away their position to the pursuing bandits. He did hear her muffled gasp and moan and figured she had landed on her swollen ankle or bruised hip. But you had to admire a woman who was being put through hell and hadn’t dissolved into whimpers and tears. Shiloh was the bravest, most adaptable women he’d ever encountered.
“Scoot back, Shiloh,” he cautioned as he pulled himself upward. “I don’t want to accidentally kick you when I come up and over this ledge in a hurry.”
“I’m clear,” she called out.
Gathering himself, Hawk surged upward, slinging his leg sideways so he could roll across the stone slab. He came to a stop, flat on his back. Shiloh hovered beside him. To his astonishment, she bent over and kissed him right smack-dab on the mouth. But her alluring taste, feel and scent was gone as quickly as a lightning strike, leaving him oddly disappointed.
And yet…he was relieved that the moment hadn’t lasted very long. The very worst thing that could happen was for him to become addicted to the taste of a man-hating firebrand who was only going to be another footnote in his life, and in his career as a Texas Ranger.
“Thank you for saving my life,” she murmured. “Maybe I can return the favor someday.”
“Let’s hope not.” Hawk rolled over then stood up in one swift motion. “That would suggest I’d dragged you into another dangerous scrape. You’ve had too many of those, thanks to me.”
“Well, it’s better than being jilted and betrayed by a man who claimed to have tender feelings for you.”
Shiloh clamped her mouth shut so fast she nearly bit off her runaway tongue. She hadn’t meant to reveal that information, but she wasn’t thinking straight. Which explained the impulsive kiss she’d bestowed on Hawk. She didn’t know what possessed her, other than the fact that she was rattled, relieved to be back on solid footing and grateful to be alive.
It wasn’t because she’d succumbed to the forbidden attraction she felt for him, she assured herself. Falling for this brawny tumbleweed of a man would never do. She had to remember not to depend or rely too heavily on Hawk. He was a man, capable of hurting her.
But maybe she could use him as a sounding board and confide what happened in Louisiana. She could test her ability to control her emotions during the telling of the humiliating incident to Hawk. She could rehearse now so she would be better prepared when she told her brothers what had sent her dashing home from New Orleans unannounced.
Given the emotional distress of this fiasco, and her multiple injuries, even Hawk might not think her weak and foolish if she broke down in tears.
Shiloh didn’t protest when Hawk hoisted her to her feet, then sat her atop his mustang. She smiled in amusement when the horse slung its head sideways to pick up her scent. She was relieved the animal didn’t take a bite out of her leg to show its disapproval.
“So you got jilted by a fool that didn’t appreciate you,” Hawk remarked as he grabbed the reins and started up the rain-drenched path, keeping his eyes peeled for the ever-present desperadoes. “Worse things have happened.”
“Like this misadventure?” She smirked as she stared down at the waterlogged bandits that were sprawled on a boulder, struggling to regain their footing. “Like nearly drowning when a wild man and his horse practically landed on me in midstream while I was out of my protective disguise? Or are you referring to being shot in the arm because bloodthirsty outlaws are furious with you? Not to mention scraping the hide off my knees and hips and twisting my ankle when forced to go mountain climbing at night…in a rainstorm.”
“Exactly. And I said I was sorry about all that.”
“I’ll have you know that getting your pride trampled, being lied to then carelessly discarded feels ten times worse than suffering a few strains, sprains and bruises,” she contended. “When a man claims he has eyes only for you, while he’s dallying with someone else, you learn your lesson well, believe me. Men want only two things from a woman.”
“Two?” Hawk asked, amusement coloring his voice. “Where was I when these rules and regulations were passed out? I thought there was only one reason for needing