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Authors: Beverly Jenkins

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BOOK: Night Hawk
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“She also told me why she and her husband named you Night Hawk. I was wondering how the ranch got the name.”

He smiled.

“So, how was your day?” she asked.

He told her what he'd learned from Henny's father, Tom, and his concerns about Draper's possible involvement.

“So he wants folks to pay to have their property protected by that scary-looking Pratt Ketchum?”

“Yes.”

“I'd want protection from him.”

“True. So far no one has been injured in any of the fires and we won't know until roundup if any of the cattle are being impacted, but in the meantime, Charlie and I will set up night watch to keep an eye on things around here.”

“Do you have any plans for this evening?”

“Other than kissing you on and off, no.”

“Then in between can we ride out to see the school?”

Ian froze.

She waited and rocked.

“Um.” There was a glint in her eye that gave him pause. “You know, don't you?”

“Know what?” she asked innocently. She rocked some more.

Ian hung his head. “How angry are you?”

She shook her head. “Not at all because I know you're going to build a school and have it ready before summer's done.”

“You're right.”

She chuckled. “I love the way we argue.”

“So do I. May I trouble you for a welcome home kiss?”

“No trouble at all.”

She came to him, and after a series of searing kisses Ian held her tight. “My apologies for not telling you the truth. Not sure what came over me. I've never done anything like that before.”

“It's all right. As long as your feelings for me are true, I have no complaints.”

He squeezed. “As true as the spring rains. I'll start building in the morning. How much longer do we have to wait for our wedding night?”

“A couple of days. By the party Saturday night, I should be able to put on my peignoir and watch your eyes pop out.”

“That won't be the only thing popping out.”

She laughed. “Can't wait.”

After dinner, Ian asked, “Want to go riding with me?”

“Of course.”

They left Charlie to his own devices and drove away.

“Where are we going?”

“On a hunt.”

“For what?”

“Secret.”

Maggie took hold of his arm and placed her head against his shoulder. “Gold?”

“Secret, remember?”

They drove a bit farther and stopped along the road in a place that was nearly grown over in shrubbery, tall aspens, and pines. The surroundings were so quiet only birdsong pierced the silence. “Why are we stopping here?”

He hopped down from the wagon and took two shovels from the bed. “You coming?” he asked.

Smiling and slightly confused, she left the wagon seat and joined him. He handed her a shovel. “Follow me.”

Maggie did as he asked. They waded into the foliage beside the road and after walking a half mile or so, he stopped. She did, too, and looked around. What she saw made her drop her shovel and bring her hands to her mouth. Lilacs. Everywhere. She was surrounded by what appeared to be acres of the plants growing wild and covered with blooming purple and pink spears.

Maggie had never seen such an enormous array of sizes and colors. The air was thick with the sweet smells.

“Thought you might like to help me dig up a few for us to replant near the house.”

She'd held lilacs on their wedding day. “You remembered.” Emotion made her throat thicken.

“I'm your husband. I'm supposed to.”

Maggie's eyes were filled with love. She embraced him strongly. “Thank you, so much.” She was certain she had the most perfect husband in the whole wide world.

They chose two small stands to take back, and when they returned home, she and Ian and Charlie planted them on either side of the front steps. Over time they'd spread in front of the porch, and Maggie couldn't wait for next spring to watch them bloom and enjoy the fragrant scent fill the air.

Chapter 23

T
he evening of the party, a very pleased Maggie studied her reflection in the large mirror in her bedroom. When Denver dress shop owner Bethany Adams insisted Maggie buy a fancy gown, Maggie had protested, but now she was glad the shopkeeper had been so adamant. She thought she looked real fine in the elegant, ice blue gown. She'd pinned her hair up, added a bit of the face paint she'd purchased from Bethany's hairdresser, and was now ready to go out and meet Ian waiting for her in the front room. Ideally, she'd have some jewelry around her bare throat and in her earlobes, but having none didn't deter from how wonderful being dressed up made her feel. More important, she was finally free of her monthly, and hoped tonight she and Ian would have the chance to have their wedding night and officially consummate their marriage.

“You look beautiful,” he said, when she entered. “Where did you get that dress?”

Charlie glanced up from his newspaper and his eyes popped. “Oh my.”

She twirled slowly to give them the full effect. “From Bethany's store in Denver. Henny was worried I'd not have an appropriate gown.”

Charlie said, “When she sees you she's going to choke.”

Maggie hoped so, but it was Ian's response that meant the most and he was viewing her with a subtle delight that put heat in her blood.

On the carriage ride to the Benton home, Maggie wondered how the evening would go. She was looking forward to meeting Ian's friends and neighbors and was hoping to have an enjoyable time. There were butterflies in her stomach, however, mainly because she had little experience rubbing shoulders with people of wealth and she didn't want to say or do anything that might embarrass her husband. He on the other hand appeared to be as confident as always. He was wearing a dark gray suit, a nice shirt, and yet another fine hat. He had a closetful, she'd discovered. Having met him as Vance Bigelow, the duster-wearing marshal and bounty hunter, it was taking her a bit to reconcile that persona with this Ian Vance's impeccable style and taste. This was yet another layer to the man she'd married. “How long have you known the Bentons?”

“Tom bought in here about six years ago.”

“I was under the impression that he and his daughter had lived here a long time.”

“No. He made his money in the mines and started buying up open range. He used to live down in Laramie but liked the country here so much, he moved here.”

“What's he like?”

“He can be bullheaded sometime, but he isn't mean-spirited.”

“And Henny?”

“Likes having her way. Tom lost her mother to cholera when Henny was small, and he admits to spoiling her ever since. When they first moved here, she'd just come back from a fancy girls' school out East.”

“I appreciate her giving us this party.”

“It is nice of her, considering how mad she was when she met you.”

They arrived a short while later, and Maggie noted all the wagons, buckboards, and carriages parked on the long gravel drive that led to the house. The imposing mansion with its mixture of stone and timber was three times the height of Ian's and appeared to be ten times larger. Windows with sparkling panes fronted the three levels and the long front porch was anchored by matching stacked stone columns. The Benton home was an unexpected architectural beauty.

“What a beautiful place,” she said to Ian as he helped her down. Adjusting her shawl, and holding her little silk clutch bag, she followed him up the walk. Maggie had never worn a pair of evening slippers before and could feel the finely raked gravel against the thin soles. Ian offered her his arm as they climbed the wide front steps. The sight of the well-dressed people spread over the porch made the butterflies take flight in her belly again, so she drew in a calming breath and straightened her shoulders.

Every eye was on them as they topped the stairs, and calls of welcome greeted their arrival.

With Ian making the introductions, she met the Barbers, who owned the trading post. The Hemmings, who lived over the ridge. She didn't know what ridge but she nodded and smiled. Next were the Fields; he was short and balding, she was much taller and stouter. She was named Jolene and had dyed red hair and cool eyes. They introduced their widowed daughter, Sarah Green, and the coolness in the eyes of the gangly young woman matched her mother's. Maggie had the impression that Sarah was a member of Ian's remuda.

“And where did you meet our Ian?” Jolene asked.

“Kansas.”

“You're Indian, aren't you?”

“Yes, Kaw.”

“Ah.”

Before the interrogation could continue, a short, thin woman interrupted, and said, “Welcome to Wyoming, Maggie. Name's Georgina Reed but everyone calls me Georgie.” She gave Jolene Fields a quelling look. Georgie's pale blue eyes were set in a sun-lined face that viewed Maggie warmly.

“Pleased to meet you, Georgie.” This was the woman Ian had wanted her to board with before he asked Maggie to marry him, and Maggie sensed it would have been a good place for her to be.

“Ian, she is absolutely beautiful.”

He looked down at Maggie fondly. “I agree.”

“I'll bet Henny wanted to eat her saddle when you brought her home.”

Maggie didn't say a word, but some of the people laughed uproariously in response to the elderly woman's outrageous words; Jolene and her daughter weren't among them.

Ian placed a gentle hand on the small of Maggie's back. “Let's go inside before Georgie gets us all tossed out. We'll see you later.”

Maggie called back in parting, “Nice meeting you.”

Georgie gave her a knowing wink.

Inside, the house was filled with people and the rounds of introductions began anew. Everyone was polite and seemed genuinely pleased to meet her, but there were so many that Maggie knew she'd have difficulty remembering which face went with which name until she got to know them better.

As Ian led her through the vast house in the hunt for their hostess, Maggie marveled at the expensive furnishings and decor, and did her best not to stare like a rube at the first crystal chandelier she'd ever seen hanging from the ceiling in someone's home. From talking to Charlie, she knew that Tom Benton had started life as a slave in Virginia. He'd certainly done well for himself since.

They found Mr. Benton holding court in a large sitting room that had expansive windows, a magnificent fireplace, and a billiards table in the center of the floor. On the wall above the grate hung a large oil painting of Henny dressed in a long-sleeved white blouse and snug brown leathers. She had a riding crop in her hand and such a serious look on her face. She looked like she'd strike anyone who neared. Maggie planned to keep her distance.

Maggie had expected Tom Benton to be as big as life, so she was surprised to be introduced to a fine-boned man of average stature who looked more like a professor than an influential mine owner and rancher. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Benton.”

“Pleasure's all mine,” he said, bowing over her hand. “Ian, you did well.”

“Thanks.”

“Henny's been stomping mad since you returned and now I see why. Welcome to Wyoming, Maggie.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No sirs allowed here. Name's Tom.”

Maggie inclined her head. “I'll remember that.” She found the kindness in his eyes a marked contrast to his daughter's haughty glares.

“I see you two have finally arrived,” said a cool female voice behind them.

Maggie didn't have to turn to see whom the voice belonged to, but she faced her anyway. Henny was their hostess after all.

“Thank you for this lovely affair,” Maggie said, taking the high road. Only then did she see the well-dressed man at Henny's side. He was White, and the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome. He met Maggie's eyes with an interest that she didn't return.

Henny raised her chin. “Ian, I'm not sure you and John have had an opportunity to see each other since you've been back.”

“No, we haven't. How are you, John?”

“I'm doing. Is this your bride? Henny neglected to say how gorgeous you are, Mrs. Vance.”

Ian said coolly, “Maggie. John Draper.”

“Mr. Draper, nice to meet you.”

“My pleasure.”

Draper asked, “Vance, any more like her where she came from?”

“I'm afraid not.”

“Pity.” He was doing nothing to hide the interest in his gaze.

Maggie thought Henny looked so pent-up angry she might burst, but her voice was controlled when she said, “We'll be eating momentarily. John, there's someone in the parlor I'd like you to meet. Excuse us.”

He bowed Maggie's way. “Hoping for a chance to chat with you again before the evening ends.”

“You're very kind, but I'm sure our hostess wouldn't want me monopolizing your time.”

“And neither will I,” Ian stated.

Maggie hooked her arm in his and gazed up at him lovingly. “And neither will he.”

Draper's face went cold.

Tom Benton smiled.

Henny's lips tightened. “Father, you may as well know that John has asked me to marry him and I've accepted.”

Her father choked on his drink. Everyone within earshot had stopped and was looking Henny's way.

“I'll be making the announcement during dinner. I've asked the help to bring some champagne out of the cellar.”

Tom was studying Draper with hard eyes. He tossed back the last of his drink and asked, “She tell you that when I die, all my land goes to the U.S. government and my holdings to Ian here?”

Maggie felt Ian stiffen beside her and she wondered if this was something he hadn't known.

While Henny stared, Tom said to her easily, “Every stock certificate, every bond, title, and deed.”

“That's ridiculous!” Henny snapped.

“No more ridiculous than you marrying this joker.” Tom looked out at the staring guests and called to one of them. “Hey Sol, how about a game of billiards. Rack 'em up.”

The heavyset Sol nodded and walked over to the table.

Before joining him, Tom said to his daughter, “I hope you and John will be very happy.”

As he walked away Henny's mouth dropped and she stared up at her fiancé with wide eyes. Draper looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Ian gently covered Maggie's hand with his and said to the frozen couple, “Excuse us. I want to show Maggie the roses.”

He led her away, and as they made their exit, the room buzzed with excitement.

Outside, Maggie remarked, “That was very interesting.”

“Yes. Henny may want to rethink marrying Draper.”

“Did you know about Tom's plan for his holdings?”

“No. I hope he was just trying to get Henny and Draper's goat.”

The air in the garden was cool and sweet. They were behind the house and walking on a flagstone path that wandered through a small forest of red and yellow roses in full bloom. Here and there stone-rimmed circles in the ground held flower beds bright with lilies and daisies. The smell was incredibly fragrant. They nodded at some of the other people enjoying the sights, but Ian didn't stop until they reached the end of the path where a bower covered with more fat yellow roses stood. Beneath it was a stone bench.

They took seats and Maggie said, “I thought she wanted to marry you?”

He shrugged. “Guess she changed her mind.”

“I guess so. Everyone seemed quite surprised. This is the same Draper causing all the commotion, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Handsome, but a bit odious.”

“Noticed that?” He glanced her way, smiling.

“Hard not to. The man was attempting to flirt with me with my husband standing by my side. Surely he doesn't believe he's that good-looking.”

He chuckled.

“As her father said, I hope they'll be happy.”

“I doubt that.”

“So do I, and I don't know either of them.”

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?” he asked, tracing her cheek.

“I am. Everyone's been very nice. I especially liked Georgie.”

“She's a pistol and a true daughter of the territory.”

“Is she a rancher, too?”

“Used to be, but now she just owns the land. Spends her days being outrageous and enjoying her position as the area matriarch.”

“How long has she been here?”

“All her life.”

“Is she a widow?”

“No, divorced a couple of times over the years.”

“Ah.”

They were interrupted by the sight of a well-dressed woman coming towards them. She was tall and bright-skinned, with chestnut brown hair that was elaborately curled and pinned to the top of her head. Her gown was a beautiful midnight blue and she was wearing round spectacles and a smile.

Ian stood and reached out to take her extended hands. “Hello, Vivy.”

“Hello, handsome.” She kissed him on the cheek and grinned Maggie's way. “Sorry for being so bold. You must be Maggie. I'm Vivian Palmer July.”

Maggie stood and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Welcome to our little corner of heaven, or hell depending on the day.”

Maggie liked her.

Ian gestured her to take his seat.

She sat down and breathed in as if she'd been rushing. “I was afraid I was going to be late. I had a meeting earlier. Speaking of hell, what's this I hear about Henny getting herself engaged to the devil?”

Maggie really liked her.

Ian shrugged. “I'm as surprised as everyone else.”

“I heard she was very upset about you and Maggie, but to marry a snake? Surely she doesn't believe that's going to upset you in any way.”

“I don't know what she believes.”

“How can she overlook Draper's reputation?”

“And the fact that his hired guns have been intimidating her neighbors.”

BOOK: Night Hawk
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