Wild Winds Read online

  So, you can think fast and clever; well, so can I. “Nope, in fact, it sounds exciting and challenging to me. Just be careful, because the Wild West can be dangerous and unpredictable, especially for a beautiful lady who’s traveling alone.”

  Maggie felt a rush of heat sear over her body. “Thank you for the compliment, kind sir, and for not laughing at me. I suppose I, too, am guilty of having one of those wild streaks you mentioned earlier; but I’d rather think of it as an adventurous vein.”

  Hawk chuckled. “Well, you’ll certainly have plenty of adventures and challenges out here if you go nosing around. And you’ll want to be far away if those stories are printed locally; men like that escaped convict don’t like people asking questions about them; they might come looking to see who you are and why you’re intruding on their lives, maybe want to put a stop to your curiosity. What you need is somebody to protect you and help you gather information so you won’t get yourself into trouble.”

  Maggie glanced at the weapon closest to her, a ‘76 Remington New Army single-action .44 caliber revolver. His dual holsters were secured to muscled thighs by leather thongs that dangled downward, once more hinting at a skilled gunslinger’s preference. A Spencer rifle, a lever-action repeater, was wedged between his right leg and the armrest of his seat. “You appear to be well armed and ready for trouble. Perhaps I should hire you, Mr. Reynolds; you seem quite capable of defending anybody, and you’re clever about extracting information. I don’t normally talk with strangers, and certainly not to this revealing extent.”

  Hawk chuckled as he removed his Stetson and lay it on his lap. His fingers lightly gripped its dark brim when what they yearned to do was grasp the mysterious and enchanting beauty, pull her into his arms, and taste those tempting lips. He cautioned himself to ignore her many charms as he jested, “I must have a trustworthy air about me, Miss Malone, and I guess that’s a good trait to have in my line of work. If that weren’t at least partly true, I doubt the missing persons I track down would allow me to help them so I can collect my payments. Of course,” he added with another chuckle and mischievous grin, “that trait could be hazardous when I’m on a bounty hunting trip if certain men looked upon it with suspicion.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that a man in your line of work adjusts his behavior to the needs at hand so he can succeed in his task.”

  “Well put, Miss Malone. Your offer sounds tempting, but I’m already working for somebody else. Of course, if that girl’s not in trouble when I locate her and she doesn’t need escorting back to Yuma, I’ll be available. At least I can offer you my protection during our journey there, free of charge.”

  Maggie shifted her position, putting her left side closer to the window in order to break the wit-clouding contact of their arms and shoulders. She hadn’t—not consciously— been serious about offering him a job, but perhaps he would be useful in several areas. As a bounty hunter and apparent gunslinger, Hawk would know how to locate and disable culprits such as Barber and Jones and prevent her from jeopardizing herself and mission. Even so, she must keep the tempting male at arm’s length until her dilemma was resolved, as an emotional involvement could be hazardous to both of them. “Why would you do that, Mr. Reynolds?” she asked ingenuously.

  “In exchange for pleasant company and interesting conversation. I don’t get much of those two while I’m on the road.”

  “A man in your line of work must have come across many infamous men and participated in blood-stirring events that would make terrific stories. Perhaps I should pick your brain about them between here and Prescott, if you’re agreeable, for a fee of course.”

  “If you’ll call me Hawk and, instead of payment, also tell me all about being a newspaper woman, you have a deal.”

  “If you’ll call me Maggie, you have a deal,” she countered, extending her hand for him to shake on it.

  Hawk grasped it, delved her blue eyes for clues about the woman, and smiled. Mercy, you’re one bewitching and enigmatic creature! What is it about you that shouts you’re nothing like Carver, even after what you’ve done for him? Why in blazes are you really going to Prescott? If you were heading there to reunite with Carver, you wouldn’t be hiring me to tag along. You’re up to something strange, woman, and I’m gonna learn what it is.

  Maggie responded to the infectious smile, aware he hadn’t released her hand and she made no attempt to withdraw it for a few moments. His touch was gentle, yet it was strong and implied self-confidence. His hands were work-calloused, but not exceedingly rough. His golden brown gaze arousing. His scent, clean and masculine, inflamed her senses. She wanted to trail her fingers over his arresting features and drift them through his ebony hair. Afraid he would detect her trembling and sense her attraction to him, Maggie extracted her hand from his as she asked, “You really don’t think I’m being foolish or reckless?”

  “No, Maggie; you’re following your heart and dreams.”

  “Those are strange and sensitive words for a tough man.”

  You got her roped, Hawk, so pull her in slow and easy. “Maybe that’s because you remind me of my mother; she was a brave and strong woman who followed the callings of her heart and dreams; until she died she worked beside my father in just about everything he did. They were a good match.”

  Maggie yearned to learn more about him. “You said she’s … deceased?” she asked. “I’m sure you and your father still miss her.” She saw his body stiffen and his expression alter before he stared at his hat, as if trying to master unleashed emotions. Her gaze followed his to where his fingers gripped the Stetson’s brim tightly. His gaze had narrowed and chilled. “I’m sorry if I mentioned a painful topic, Hawk.”

  Hawk swallowed the bitterness almost choking him. Here he sat next to the very person who had a connection to his vicious enemies and he was craving her as a woman, chatting and laughing with her like a friend! He was allowing her to get to him, to soften him, and that must stop pronto! Give her a little taste of the truth so when you wring her pretty neck, she’ll understand why. “Yep, she’s dead, murdered last December. My father and younger brother, too. They were slain by a gang of outlaws during a bank robbery. Their killers were never captured and punished, so I guess that’s why I hire out at times as a bounty hunter. Even if I don’t come across them, which I hope I do one day, I get rid of other snakes who’ve harmed good people.” Bite the bullet and paint a good picture of yourself if you hope to ensnare her and use her. “I enjoy helping nice folks in trouble or getting them to where they need to go safely. But I don’t want to spend all of my time and energy going after lowlifes. I have to spend too much time around that sorry sort, and in the types of places they frequent. I even have to act like one of them on occasion to win their trust. I am well armed and skilled as you said, but I don’t like to engage in any fight unless I have no choice. Unnecessary killing has a way of hardening a man too much, so does endlessly searching for revenge; so I try to keep all that under tight control.”

  Maggie was surprised by the intensity of his emotions. He seemed like a good and decent man to her, but one who could turn mean if he wasn’t careful to control his dark side. “So you don’t have any family left now?”

  “Yep, my grandparents on my father’s side. I send them most of the money I earn on my jobs. Being a loner, I don’t have need for much of it.”

  Maggie liked the love and respect she sensed for his grandparents, and the fact he helped support them. “You told the truth, Hawk Reynolds; you are a trustworthy man. I’m sure I would be safe in your protective care, so I hope your Prescott job is a quick one.”

  “You haven’t even asked what I charge for my services,” he jested, which is far more than you could imagine or be willing to pay.

  “Whatever your price, I’m certain it’s a fair one. Besides, I have an expense account, so I can afford to hire you.”

  “Considering the challenge you have in mind, it sounds like an exciting proposition. If you happened to lure some villain into t
he open with questions and stories, I could grab him and collect his reward. Getting paid double or more suits me just fine.”

  Walk this unfamiliar terrain with caution, Maggie girl. “I was told that four men helped that Yuma escapee rob the Prescott Bank, and the authorities suspect it was a gang led by Pete Barber and Slim Jones. Have you ever heard of them?”

  “Hasn’t everybody in these parts? If they’re involved, you’re talking trouble, Maggie, big trouble.”

  “That means huge stories if we can ferret out the truth about them. An even bigger story if they come after us and you capture them. Just think what I’d get paid for an article with pictures about infamous outlaws.”

  “If you lived to write and publish it. Barber and Jones are known gunslingers who fight at the blink of an eye. But from what I know, none of the numerous allegations against them have been proven, so they come and go at will. I doubt you could find anybody who’d incriminate them. Word is, they don’t leave witnesses behind; but even if they did show mercy, their victims would be too scared to talk.”

  “If that’s true, wouldn’t it indicate they weren’t involved in the Prescott crime? By the same token, if Carver rides with them, he wasn’t involved, which is what he claimed during his trial. If the authorities are mistaken about Barber and Jones, couldn’t they be mistaken about Carver?” She watched Hawk shrug in response. “If Barber and Jones are involved in this matter, does that change your mind about hiring on to me?”

  “Nope, I’m as good with my pistols as they are. Besides, I recently heard two of Barber’s men were killed, so that about evens the odds if they challenged us. Still, you’ll be taking a great risk going after them because you’re talking about souless men.”

  “Wouldn’t it be your job to keep me alive and safe?”

  “Yep, if I hired on to you. That remains to be seen, Maggie Malone.”

  “Yes, it does, doesn’t it, Hawk Reynolds? I should warn you now, I can be awfully persuasive and determined when I want something badly.”

  I’m sure that’s true. “And you want this story and those men badly?”

  “I want the truth; you can have the villains and their rewards.”

  “Just the truth? That’s all?”

  “I swear it.”

  Blazes if she doesn’t look and sound as if she’s being honest! Does she think “the truth” will clear Ben Carver of that crime? Is that what you’re after, Maggie, what Newl Carver meant by your “other task, “ exoneration or a pardon? You won’t get either one, because the man you helped escape is as guilty as sin itself!

  Even if Toby Muns lied about Carver’s participation in Prescott and in his own tragic losses, Hawk reasoned, Carver was guilty of other crimes. There was no way Carver could ride with scum like Barber and Jones and keep his hands clean, and Carver had been seen with those two devils on more than one occasion and in several locations. It riled him that Sayers and Muns were dead and couldn’t testify against the other three villains, but they wouldn’t have made credible witnesses anyway. Carver had to be one of the remaining three men he was after, so Carver was his path to finding the other two. Just as the woman beside him was his path to Carver.

  As the locomotive’s whistle blasted and the train lurched as it was braked and slowed for a water and passenger stop, both Maggie and Hawk glanced outside and neither made another comment about that topic.

  During the next few hours as they crossed the cactistudded Sonoran Desert, Maggie listened and took notes as Hawk related some of his past adventures, partly to learn all she could about the wicked men and about her companion and partly to give her necessary ruse credence. She was fascinated by the stimulating tales of perilous and cunning incidents. If he would come to work for her, she was certain they would enjoy each other’s company. Yet, it would compel her to stay on guard to conceal her true motive and the crime she’d committed. Even so, if he helped her locate Barber and Jones and force the truth from them and kept her safe, she reasoned, wasn’t that worth the risk? She surely stood a better chance of accomplishing her goals and staying unharmed with him.

  At their six o’clock stop, Hawk purchased two clothwrapped suppers with cold fried chicken, still warm biscuits, and fresh California fruit, to be downed with water from canteens. He also watered, fed, and walked his horse for a short time, as was his practice during the longer stop.

  While he did so, Maggie visited the depot outhouse and freshened up at a table with water and a basin.

  After they were en route again and as they ate on the cloths spread over their laps and sipped from canteens, they conversed on several subjects, including books which both or either had read. For a while, they talked about the desert and its creatures and vegetation, the Indians who used to roam this area freely, and the settling of the territory by whites.

  Hawk decided it was too soon to expose his part-Cheyenne heritage, as he didn’t know how she’d react to his “half-breed” status. If she’d guessed his secret, she didn’t let on that she knew or suspected it. Perhaps, he reasoned, if Maggie was from Virginia as she claimed, she wasn’t that familiar with the troubles and animosities between the whites and Indians. But if she was from the South, how had she met Ben Carver? He noted how she ate daintily and used a lacy handkerchief to dab grease and food specks from her lips and fingers following each bite. She certainly gave every indication of being a real lady with education and superb social breeding. So, he mused, how had she gotten hooked up with a snake like Carver and why had she involved herself in a perilous crime to rescue him? And why had she told him in Yuma that she’d been reared on a ranch? He had to learn more about her, but without creating suspicion.

  “I’ve been doing most of the talking,” Hawk said, “so why don’t you tell me about being a newspaper woman? I believe you called it a journalist?”

  Maggie was forced to elaborate on her concocted tale, despite the fact the lies tasted bitter and came forth with reluctance. Thankfully she did have a friend in the newspaper business and had toured his publishing company, so she was familiar with its workings. She had even feigned being a journalist as a cover for one of her past investigations, so she was well prepared to carry off the necessary pretense. She found the perfect excuse to drop that subject when she noticed a coyote chasing a jackrabbit and pointed it out to Hawk. “Do you think we can save its life if we toss out the remains of our supper to distract its predator?” she jested.

  “I see you’re a tenderhearted female who doesn’t like to see anything suffer and die needlessly.” He saw her smile and nod. “If you’re finished, I’ll toss out these scraps, but we’re too far ahead of him for that coyote to catch their scent and be lured off that rabbit’s trail. But take my word for it, that rabbit won’t be in the coyote’s stomach tonight; Jack’s too swift and sly, and he’s skilled at escape on that terrain.”

  After Maggie dampened her handkerchief and washed her fingers and mouth, Hawk capped and put away the two canteens. He collected the unfinished food and tossed it out the opposite window so nothing would blow back in on her.

  “You’re a most thoughtful person, Hawk Reynolds. Thank you for the delicious meal, but I really should pay you for it from my expense account.”

  Hawk grinned. “Since I don’t want to step on any of those independent toes, you can buy them the next time, at breakfast.”

  “It’s a deal, partner.” Maggie said. She already had been given a month off by her boss in St. Louis, but she would notify him later if she required more time to resolve her current task.

  They were silent for a time as they relaxed and watched the landscape slip past at a steady pace of twelve miles per hour. The train made routine stops along the route whose scenery was familiar to both. The above eighty-degree temperature was pleasant due to a breeze created by the train’s speed, open windows, and the lowering sun behind them. The ever-darkening blue expanse above them had only a tiny smattering of white clouds with rosy and gold reflections from the sunset.

 
; As she gazed at the enormous saguaros with their uplifted arms and at other vegetation, most in spring bloom, Maggie sighed and murmured, “This is such a lovely and peaceful time of day. The desert is so beautiful this time of year that one can forget how hazardous it can be. I still remember the first time I saw it when my father took me with him to El Paso when I was a child. It was during late summer, and the weather was scorching hot. I recall my arms blistering right through my long sleeves, which Papa had insisted I wear for protection. I must have drank buckets of water, and I loved every time a large cloud shaded us if only for a few minutes; the brief drop in temperature amazed me, even at that young age. I loved ranching and I loved Fort Worth; I still miss them, but I miss my father most of all.”

  Maggie leaned her head against the train and continued to correct the contradiction she had made in her story to him. “I think I already told you I was born in Virginia, but Papa moved us to Texas after the war with the North because we lost our home and most of our family to the Yankees. We ranched until Papa died in ‘77; then Mother sold out and we moved away because the spread was too much for her to manage. At least, that’s what she told me, but I think it was just too painful for her to remain there with Papa gone and with all of the memories there of him. She remarried a few years ago after I finished school; that’s where I met Abby and we became best friends. I decided to get out on my own so the newlyweds could have privacy. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, Hawk, so I empathize with your loss. You’re fortunate you still have grandparents, and I’m fortunate I still have Mother.”

  Hawk heard emotional strain in her voice. He believed her moving and enlightening words, but he wondered why she was revealing such personal things to him. “I like Texas, too. My grandparents live in San Antonio, and my parents ranched near there before they were slain.” That was a stupid slip! If she knows about Carver’s crimes in that area, she’ll become suspicious of you. Yet, he noticed, that information didn’t appear to have an adverse effect on her. He was relieved, but warned himself to stay alert to avoid another mistake.