Rocky Mountain Cowboy Read Online Free PDF

warmer one, while his arm dropped down from the back of the seat to curl reassuringly around her shoulders.
    Peter talked non-stop all the way back to the ranch, but he didn’t seem to care that neither of them gave him little or no reply. Jenny simply let herself rest against the man behind the steering wheel, letting his body heat chase away her chills.

CHAPTER 3
     
    By eleven o’clock that evening, Hawk was at the end of his forbearance. He tossed in his poker hand and walked tiredly across the yard to the main house. An overhead vapor light illuminated his path, but he could have crossed the distance blindfolded. It had finally begun to rain, and he was half wet by the time he reached the covered front porch of the big house. Foregoing a shower, he changed into a t-shirt and a pair of cotton pajama bottoms in his room, absently staring at his pile of laundry on the floor. Maybe tomorrow he’d do something about it.
    Trivial thoughts and plans scrolled through his brain. He recognized them for what they were— an attempt to keep the pain at bay. God, he was tired, bone-tired! For the past week, he’d felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He really needed a good night’s sleep, something he hadn’t come close to since Tom’s heart attack. After tightening the drawstring on his pajamas, he sat down on his bed and turned off the lamp on the table beside him. His pine log bed groaned beneath the collapse of his exhausted body. Once his head hit the pillows, he flung an arm over his face. Moonlight filtered weakly into the dormer window over his bed and trickled beneath his bent elbow.
    As a distraction, the poker game at the bunkhouse after dinner had done little to take his mind off the day’s events. Peter Mason was the only one who had been having a good time tonight. Since he was also the only one who seemed able to concentrate enough to win, he was still at the bunkhouse. More than likely Eli and Hank were keeping him entertained a little while longer to give Hawk a break. It had taken a hell of a lot of patience to be courteous to the guy. Mason was a pompous pain in the ass. What Tom’s daughter saw in him was beyond Hawk’s comprehension. He definitely wasn’t looking forward to having him around for very long.
    The only things he seemed to enjoy talking about were his business acumen and his new friends, the Caldwells. Hawk wasn’t sure what to make of the guy’s interest in them, but he was going to keep an eye on it. He sure as hell didn’t need Brad Caldwell interfering with his life any more than he already had. And he wasn’t going to tolerate someone under this roof carrying information back to Caldwell.
    His body started to relax and his mind began to finally drift toward oblivion, when he was jolted out of his half-sleep by a muffled scream. It was quickly followed by the sound of breaking glass. Hawk jack-knifed out of bed and dashed across the hall. He’d been worried about Tom’s daughter all evening. She’d gone to her room after the burial service, and hadn’t come out since. He understood the need to be alone, but he’d still worried about her. She’d looked so emotionally fragile all day.
    The room was dark when he pushed open the door, but he was able to make out her silhouette propped up against the mound of pillows bunched together at the headboard. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, tucked under her chin, her arms locked tightly around them. Hawk reached over to turn on the hurricane lamp by the bed. There was water dripping off the top of the dresser and broken glass on the floor. Luckily, he was wearing his slip-ons. His feet were protected, but hers weren’t. Her bare, painted toes were peeking out from beneath the hem of her pajama bottoms.
    Now that he could see her better, he studied her closer. Her forehead was pressed hard to her kneecaps. Clad in a pair of sleeveless black silk pajamas, she looked very small and miserable. Her hair