In the Arms of the Rancher. Jan Colley
sooner rather than later. “Maybe a father-daughter heart-to-heart will help.”
“Will do.” Jack started to turn away.
“Hold up a minute,” Hawk said, stopping Jack short. “I’m going to take off for a couple weeks for a little R and R. Can you hold down the fort, and Boyo?” Hawk ruffled the hair on the dog’s head.
Jack gave him a look. “You know damn well I can.”
Hawk grinned. “Yeah, I know. I just like riling you now and again.”
“As if I didn’t know,” Jack drawled. “You tellin’ me where you’re going and when?”
“Sure. No secret. I’m going to Vegas as soon as I can make room reservations. I’ll let you know where I’ll be staying.” He paused before going on. “When I get back, you and Ted can take some time off. While I’m gone, you can decide who goes first.”
“Good deal.” Jack grinned and went back to work.
Relieved, Hawk drew a deep breath of the pine-scented mountain air. The dog looked up at him expectantly. “Not this time, Boyo,” he said, ruffling the dog’s thick hair. “You’ll be staying with Jack.”
If a dog could frown, Hawk thought, that was exactly what the big Irish wolfhound was doing. With a final hair ruffle, he turned to the porch steps.
A smile on his lips, Hawk walked into the house, picked up the phone and began punching in numbers.
Chapter One
Kate Muldoon was behind the hostess station, checking the reservation list, when the restaurant entrance door opened. A smile of greeting on her lips, she glanced up to see a man just inside the door and felt a strange skip beat in her chest.
The first word to jump into her mind was cowboy. Kate couldn’t say why that particular descriptive word came to mind. There wasn’t a pair of boots or a Stetson in sight. He was dressed the same as most patrons, casually in jeans that hugged his hips like a lover, a pale blue button down shirt tucked into the narrow denim waistband, the sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm.
His height was impressive. Kate judged him to be six feet five or six inches tall at least, maybe more. He was lean, muscular and rangy. He had a head full of thick, straight dark, almost black, hair with strands of deepest red glinting under the lights. It was long, caught at his nape and was tied with a narrow strip of leather.
He was striking—sharply defined features, a squared jaw and piercing dark eyes. His skin was tanned, near bronze. Part Native American, perhaps? Maybe.
But he wasn’t what she would call handsome, not in the way Jeff was…
“May I help you?” Kate asked brightly, pushing away errant thoughts of her former lover.
“I don’t have a reservation, but I’d like a table for one, if you have it.” His voice was smooth, low, rather sexy and alluring.
Telling herself to grow up, Kate said, “Yes, of course. If you’ll follow me.” Scooping up a menu, she ushered him to a small table for two set in a corner between two curtained windows.
He arched a dark brow with visible amusement when she slid out a chair for him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, handing him the menu. “Tom will be your server today.” Feeling oddly breathless, she added, “Enjoy your dinner.”
He smiled.
Kate felt the shivery effects of his smile all the way back to her station. Ridiculous, she chided herself, dismissing thoughts of the tall man when she noticed a line of unexpected guests waiting for her.
Greeting and seating the hungry patrons who had suddenly shown up snared Kate’s focus. After seating a party of four nearest the corner table, she heard the tall man quietly call to her.
“Miss?”
The shivery effects began all over again. Sighing through her professional smile, she stopped at his table. “Can I get you something?” she responded, noticing his half-empty beer glass. He smiled, this time with a suggestive hint. Kate felt the shiver turn into an unnerving shimmering heat.
“Is Vic in the kitchen this evening?”
His question threw her for a moment. She didn’t know what she had expected, but an inquiry about her boss wasn’t it. “Yes, he is,” she answered, instantly regaining her composure.
“Would you give him a message from me?”
“Yes, of course.” What else could she say?
“Tell him Hawk would like to talk to him.” He smiled again, revealing strong white teeth.
“Hawk…just Hawk?” she asked. Lord, the man had a killer smile.
“Just Hawk,” he said with a soft laugh. “He’ll know who you mean.”
“Uh…right. I’ll tell him,” Kate said, turning away to head for the kitchen. It was a good thing Jeff had immunized her against men, she thought, pushing through the swing door to the kitchen. That kind of man would get under an unwary woman’s skin in a hurry.
That was one appealing package of femininity, he mused, his gaze fixed on the subtle yet intriguing movement of her hips as she pushed through the door to the kitchen. Of average height, she was all woman from the riot of loose curls in her long dark hair to her slim ankles, and everywhere in between. And he had noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring on the third finger of her left hand.
Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t married. Hawk knew of many men as well as women who didn’t wear their bands of commitment. Cramped their style, he supposed. He was wondering if she might be one of those women when a familiar voice broke into his musing.
“Hawk, you old dog, when did you get into town?” Vic Molino came to a stop next to Hawk, a big smile of welcome on his handsome face, his right hand outthrust.
Rising, Hawk grasped the hand and pulled the shorter man into a buddy embrace.
Stepping back, Hawk flicked a hand at the empty chair opposite his. “Got a minute to talk…or are you too busy in the kitchen?”
Vic grinned. “Always got a minute for you, Hawk. How the hell are you?” He arched his dark brows. “It’s been a long while since your last visit.”
“Yeah, I know.” Hawk grinned back. “Been too busy making money. Now, before winter sets in, I aim to spend a little of it.”
“I hear you.” As he spoke, a server came to a stop at the table. Vic smiled at him. “I’ll take care of this customer, Tom, but you’ll still get the tip.” He lowered his voice dramatically, as if to prevent Hawk from hearing him. “And he’s a big tipper.”
Tom smiled. “Thanks, Vic.” He turned to leave but Vic stopped him before he could take a step.
“One thing, Tom. You can bring me a pot of coffee.” He shot a glance at Hawk. “You want a fresh beer?”
Hawk shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m going to have wine with dinner, but I would like a cup of coffee.”
“Coming right up, sir,” Tom said, hurrying away.
Hawk glanced around the dining room. “Business looks brisk, as usual.”
“It has been good,” Vic said, a touch of gratitude in his voice, “even with the slump in the economy.” He pulled a frown. “I didn’t even get a vacation this year.”
Hawk gave him a droll look. “Poor baby. Lisa cracking the whip over you, huh?”
Vic flashed a white grin. “Never. My bride is too much in love with me to find fault.”
Hawk felt a touch of something—longing, an empty sensation. Surely not envy for his friend and the bride he’d