Diana Hall - Branded Hearts

She dropped her saddlebags. Her aching shoulders thanked her. The ride on the black and the argument with Garret had consumed her stamina. “Come, brother, we can move these boxes and—”

“This is where you bunk.” The scowl on Garret’s face deepened. “Your brother sleeps in the bunkhouse.” Through the open window he pointed to the building on the opposite side of the house.

Hawk pounced forward like his namesake. “I will not leave my sister.” His eyes blistered with anger.

Despite her brother’s murderous look and powerful build, the ranch owner remained cool. “If you don’t like the arrangement, you’re both welcome to leave.”

“I’ll be fine. Really.” She placed a gentle, restraining hand on her brother’s arm. “We’re staying.”

Whispers and snickers sounded behind her. The Rockin’ G cowboys gossiped with the enthusiasm of old women, but with the intentions of lecherous cronies. A woman alone sounded like easy prey for a cowhand eager to relieve the thickness in his jeans.

From her hip, she pulled out a long Indian knife. She held the blade in the sunlight. A rainbow of color appeared along the tip and across the silver steel.

“I’m no prairie dove. See your cowhands are aware of that or they might find themselves nursing an injury.” Burning hatred heated her voice, her message loud and clear. If attacked, she knew how to protect herself.

The knife slid into the butter-soft sheath. Moisture filmed her eyes as her fingers traced the intricate beadwork on her belt. Hawk’s wife had labored hours over this gift. Hours filled with love and laughter. Hours that would never be again. Kit drew strength from the rising pain in her soul. There would be no surrender, no running home to hide with her father.

“Don’t worry about my wranglers.” Garret eyed his men. “No woman, no matter who or what she is, comes to harm on the Rockin’ G.” Bitterness sliced through his tone.

The tight circle of cowhands widened, as though the rancher’s words had constructed a fort between Kit and them. A sense of safety comforted her.

“If you two are working for me, then get a move on. We’re wasting daylight.” Challenge rang in Garret’s tone.

He wanted to hear her complain, to whine. When pigs fly. It didn’t matter that her muscles screamed with every movement. That her knees had the consistency of hot molasses. That the lumpy bed with the fleabag dog looked inviting. Kit slapped an overeager smile on her face and met Garret’s daring stare. “We’re ready.”

“I’m not paying you men to stand around,” Garret shouted as he marched from the barn.

Cowhands grabbed tools and spread out to complete the day’s tasks. Cade sauntered over to the hitching post and watched the working men from beneath his lowered brim. Blaine also noticed his brother and made a beeline for him. Kit hesitated, then followed with Hawk at her side.

The younger man looked up, ignored his older brother’s get-out-of-here stare and reached out his hand. He pumped first her hand, then, without hesitation, Hawk’s. That one unconscious motion made her warm to the handsome cowboy. Many men would never consider shaking the hand of a half-breed.

“Kit O’Shane.” A genuine smile tugged at her lips. The man’s good humor lessened the tension. “And you’ve already met my brother, Winterhawk.”

Cade slapped her brother on the back. “You two won me a sizeable grubstake for my next poker game. You play cards?” A gambler’s joy lit his soft blue-green eyes.

“No.” Hawk dashed the cowboy’s hope as he hefted his saddle and bags onto his shoulder. He headed off to-ward the bunkhouse. Kit started to follow.

“No, you don’t.” Garret’s firm hand clamped down on her shoulder and held her in place. A shiver of protest and abject fear shook her tired muscles and made her groan.

Her brother dropped his bags. His lion-claw necklace clinked a warning. The look of savagery on his face took Kit’s breath away.

“Hawk, don’t,” she pleaded. It took all her concentration to dominate her erupting panic.

Unperturbed by Hawk’s threatening glare, her new boss lightened his grip. His fingers tangled in her hair, then moved across the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

He’s not out to hurt you. Not after that warning in the barn. The knowledge deadened her fear and opened the door to a different emotion. His touch caused a strange tingling sensation down her neck and across her throat, erasing the cold terror. Warmth smoldered in her like an old campfire.

Garret’s voice sounded hoarse as he issued orders to her brother. “You and Cade can round up the herd from the east pasture.”

Turning to her, he fixed his gaze on her face. “The tack needs to be completely cleaned, every bridle, saddle and halter taken apart, oiled and put back.”

“Come on, Garret,” Cade complained. “Kit deserves a rest after that ride.”

“Hope not, because she needs to muck out the stables and start cutting a cord of wood.”

“Kit’s a horse trainer, not a stable hand.” Hawk’s sharp voice added to the tension.

“She’s what I make her,” Garret shot back. “If she doesn’t like the work, she can quit.” A crafty smile slanted across his lips as he disclosed his plan. “You’re free to leave when you want. I expect it’ll be soon.”

Compressing all her fear and her anger into a tight lump in her heart, Kit met his gaze without flinching. “Only time will tell, Mr. Blaine, which of us lasts the longest.”

Annoyance hovered in his eyes. The scar on his temple blazed. Kit thought a lightning bolt might come from his head like the Greek god Zeus. “A week. And you’ll be lucky to last that long.”

Smugness she had learned at her father’s knee. Haughtiness at her Boston finishing school. Kit drew herself to her full height, dismissed the fact that Garret still stood a head taller and gave her chin a regal lift. “Then we’ll be discussing this issue again, Mr. Blaine. At the end of the week.”

Garret swore, pivoted on his heel and entered the cedarsided cabin. The plank door jumped the hinges from the force of his slam.

Cade stamped the ground with one foot.

“What are you doing?” Hawk asked.

“Putting out sparks.” Cade gave her a saucy wink. “I figure the lady here and Garret done kindled enough to start a range fire.”

Amazement hit her full force when Hawk bit his lip to keep from smiling. Her brother hadn’t found life amusing in a long time.

Kit combed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s got Blacks, Mexicans, Johnny Rebs and Bluecoats all working here. Why not us?”

“He’s got this bur in his bonnet about getting a contract with the army. And there’s this big-mouthed sonofa…Excuse me, ma’am.” Cade gave a two-fingered salute to the brim of his cowboy hat. “I mean a big-mouthed know-itall that calls the shots here. And if there’s one thing Sam Benton don’t like, it’s Indians.”

“Sam Benton,” Hawk growled. “This name I know.”

As do I. Kit rested her hand on her brother’s arm. Heaven help them if they ran across Benton. Her father would make sure Kit never saw her brother again, and if Sam Benton discovered the truth about Kit’s time in the Indian village, he would use his power to destroy Hawk and lock Kit away in a protected shell for the rest of her life.

“Garret’s counting on Benton to help him with the contract. But it’s those pants of yours that’ve really set him off.” The laughter melted from the man’s eyes. Every muscle tensed in the handsome young cowboy’s face. “Our ma was a whore.” He waited to see if the news shocked her. It didn’t. Hardship forced women into many roles. She had only to look at herself for proof.