Carol Finch Read Online Free Page A

gestured toward her left arm. “It is unfortunate that I was wounded when your vindictive friends were trying to fill you full of lead.”
    Self-preservation demanded that she bolt to her feet and dart to safety. But the abrupt movement caused her head to spin and she swayed on her feet. When he tried to steady her, she hatchet-chopped his wrist until he let loose.
    “If you plan to dispose of me eventually, then I’m not leaving the how and when up to you,” she snapped as she stamped forward. “If you’re going to shoot me then you might as well do it now.”
    “Hold up, Bernice,” he called after her. “You’ve got the wrong idea here.” When she continued toward the mouth of the cave he scowled then came after her. “I know this looks bad—”
    “I’ll say it does.” Again, she jerked her arm from his restraining grasp. “You’re a bandit and you’re no better than those men who were shooting at us.”
    Hawk hooked his arm around her waist before she could burst through the curtain of rain. He gestured toward the pallet. “Go sit down and I’ll make us some coffee before I explain what’s going on.”
    She tilted her chin rebelliously and squirmed for release. “I’m not thirsty. You can explain here and now.”
    He bit back a grin when she flashed him one of those this-better-be-good glares. He set her to her feet, and—keeping a firm hold on her so she didn’t do something rash—he heeled-and-toed out of his left boot.When he showed her the badge concealed inside the hollow heel, she gaped at him. He extended the silver star for closer inspection.
    Her luminous green eyes popped, then narrowed doubtfully. “A Texas Ranger?” She scoffed caustically. “Of course, you are. That’s why your friends are after you for stealing their loot. I’d hate to venture a guess as to what happened to the unfortunate lawman that you stole this badge from.”
    When she tried to dart past him again on her way into the downpour, Hawk jerked her back beside him. “You aren’t going anywhere until I know for certain that the bandits aren’t out there, waiting to pick us off. If you want to get yourself killed—and obviously you do because you were paddling around alone in the river, miles from the protection of civilization—then that’s your business, lady. But I’m on assignment.” He tapped his chest. “I’m not about to jeopardize my mission because you don’t believe I’m who and what I say I am.”
    He made a stabbing gesture toward the pallet. “Now…sit…down…damn it,” he said slowly and succinctly. “I’m going to make coffee.” He turned her toward the interior of the cave. “You won’t accomplish a damn thing by going outside, except getting wet again and maybe exposing our whereabouts to those cutthroats.”
    Although she stamped over and sat down, her expression indicated she was none too happy about being ordered around. Well, too bad, he thought. He’d put forward his best manners for her benefit, but she was still being contrary and hostile. Nevertheless, she was going to do as he said and that was that.
    “Are you still sticking with the name Bernice?” heasked as he scooped up the pot to brew coffee over the small campfire he had positioned near the cave entrance.
    “Are you still sticking with the name Logan Hawk?”
    “Yep, it’s my name. I’m half Apache,” he confided. “My father, John Fletcher Logan, was a white trapper and trader who came and went from our clan’s camp. My mother was the daughter of Gray Hawk, a medicine man, who decided that marrying his daughter to a white man, so that he could learn English and understand the way the white man thought, was good magic. My grandfather chose his totem as my totem because the hawk is known to be swift and fierce.”
    He spread his arms wide. “Logan Hawk. Half white man’s name. Half Apache.”
    He glanced over his shoulder, noting that she was still regarding him skeptically. He didn’t know what