Joan Johnston - Hawk's Way - Rebels

Billy swore.

“Billy? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Cherry. Go to sleep.”

He closed his eyes, determined to get some rest, but a picture of her breast half revealed by the torn chiffon bodice appeared behind his eyelids.

He opened his eyes and stared at the neon again. Who would have thought he would find a freckle-faced redhead so erotically exciting? Or that his new wife would be off-limits for heaven knew how long? Billy heaved a long-suffering sigh. It was going to be one hell of a marriage.

His eyes slid closed again as sleep claimed his exhausted body.

BILLY WAS HAVING a really spectacular dream. He had a handful of soft female breast, which just happened to belong to his new wife. Her eyes were closed in passion, and as he flicked his thumb across her nipple, he heard a moan that made his loins tighten. He lowered his head to take her nipple in his mouth. It was covered by a thin layer of cotton. He sucked on her through the damp cloth and felt her body arch toward him. Her hands threaded into his hair…and yanked on it—

Billy came awake with a jerk. “What the hell?”

Cherry was sitting bolt upright in bed with her hands crossed defensively under her breasts. A damp spot on her T-shirt revealed that he hadn’t been dreaming.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. His last thoughts before drifting to sleep had been about Cherry. No wonder his body had been drawn to hers during the night. He shoved a hand through hair that was standing on end and groaned. “God, Cherry, I’m sorry. I was dreaming.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“I swear I didn’t know what I was doing.”

That made her look crestfallen.

“Not that it isn’t exactly what I’d like to be doing at this moment,” he said.

She gave a hitching breath that was almost a sob. “We agreed to wait.”

“Yeah, I know,” Billy said. “I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind.”

She hesitated so long he thought maybe she had. Until she shook her head no.

Billy looked at the clock. It was only six. But he didn’t trust himself to lie back down beside her. “I can’t sleep anymore. How about if we head for the airport?”

“All right,” she said.

He started pulling on his boots and felt her hand on his shoulder. He froze.

She cleared her throat and said, “I liked what you were doing, Billy. It felt…good. I wanted you to know that. It’s just…”

He shoved his foot down into the boot and stood. He had to get away from her or he was going to turn around and lay her flat on the bed and do something he would be sorry for later. “I know,” he said. “We agreed to wait.”

She had a brave smile on her face. And looked every bit her youthful age.

What on earth had possessed him to marry her?

It was a silent flight from Las Vegas to the airport in Amarillo. And an even more silent truck ride to the Stonecreek Ranch. Billy pulled up to the back door of a large, two-story white clapboard house and killed the engine. The blue morning glories he had planted for Laura were soaking up the midday sun on a trellis along the eastern edge of the porch.

“We’re home,” Billy said. His throat tightened painfully. They were the same words he had spoken to Laura—how many years ago?—when they had moved into this house.

Suddenly he realized he couldn’t go back into Laura’s house right now with a new wife. It was still too full of Laura. He needed a little time to accept the fact that she really was gone forever.

“Look, why don’t you go inside and introduce yourself to Mrs. Motherwell, my housekeeper. I just realized I was supposed to pick up a load of feed in town this morning. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Cherry was staring at him as if he had grown a second head. “You want me to go in there without you?” she asked.

“Just tell Mrs. Motherwell you’ve come to replace her. I’ll explain everything to the kids when I get back.” When Cherry continued sitting there staring at him, he snapped, “Changed your mind already?”

His new wife looked sober and thoughtful. There were shadows of fatigue beneath her eyes. “No. I’m determined to see this through.” She gave him one last anxious look before she left the truck. “Don’t be gone long.”

“I won’t.”

Billy resisted the urge to gun the engine as he backed away from the house. Once he hit paved road he headed the truck toward town. He hadn’t gone two miles when he saw flashing red and blue lights behind him. He glanced down at the speedometer and swore. He swerved off the road and braked hard enough to raise a cloud of dust.

He was out of the truck and reaching for his wallet to get his driver’s license when he saw the highway patrolman had a gun in his hand that was pointed at him.

“Freeze, Stonecreek, or I’ll blow your head off.”

Billy froze. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“Put your hands up. You’re under arrest.”

“Arrest? For what?”

“Kidnapping.”

It took a full second for the charge to register. Kidnapping? Then he realized what must have happened and groaned. “Look, Officer, I can explain everything.”

“You have the right to remain silent,” the officer began.

Billy’s lips pressed flat. He had married Cherry Whitelaw in the hope of solving his problems. Instead he had jumped right out of the frying pan into the fire.

CHERRY STARED at the back door of Billy’s house—now her home, too—trying to work up the courage to go inside, wondering, absurdly, if she should knock first.

She turned and stole a glance at Billy’s rugged profile as he drove away, pondering what it was about him she had found so beguiling. He had rescued her, listened to her troubles, and shared his in return. She had felt his desperation and responded to it. Now he was her husband. She twisted the cheap gold ring that confirmed it wasn’t all a dream, that she was, indeed, Mrs. Billy Stonecreek.

Good grief. What had she done?

Cherry had gone off half-cocked in the past, but the enormity of this escapade was finally sinking in. Surely it would have been better to face Zach and Rebecca and explain the truth of what had happened at the dance. How was she going to justify this latest lapse of common sense?

She felt a surge of anger at Billy for abandoning her at the door. It wouldn’t have taken long to introduce her to Mrs. Motherwell and explain the situation. So why hadn’t he done it?

Maybe because he’s having the same second thoughts as you are. Maybe in the cold light of day he’s thinking he made a bad bargain. Maybe he’s trying to figure out a way right now to get out of it.

If the back door hadn’t opened at that precise moment, Cherry would have turned and headed for Hawk’s Pride.

But it did. And Cherry found herself face-to-face with Penelope Trask.

“I saw you standing out here,” Mrs. Trask said. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I, uh… Is Mrs. Motherwell here?”

“She packed her bags and left this morning.”

Cherry stood with her jaw agape, speechless for perhaps the first time in her life. Had Mrs. Trask already managed to gain legal custody of Billy’s children? Had their marriage been for naught? She wished Billy were here.

“Don’t I know you? Aren’t you one of those Whitelaw Bra—” Mrs. Trask cut herself off.

Cherry knew what she had been about to say. The eight adopted Whitelaw kids were known around this part of Texas as the Whitelaw Brats, just like Zach and his siblings before them, and Grandpa Garth and his siblings before that. Cherry had done her share to help earn the nickname. She was proud to be one of them.

She met the older woman’s disdainful look with defiance. “Yes, I’m a Whitelaw Brat. You have a problem with that?”