The King Hill War Read Online Free PDF Page B

Cynthia has a sister.”
    “Of course she has a sister, I remember her. What is she, about fourteen or so?”
    “She’s nineteen,” Gordon said. “And she’s a knockout.”
    Hawke shook his head. “I don’t know what you are getting me into, but I’ll go along with you…for now.”
    “There they are, standing by the hall tree,” Gordon said, pointing to a couple of young women.
    Although not twins, the two young women looked very much alike. Both had brown hair that hung in dark curls, and eyes that were so dark as to be almost black. They were each holding a fan, and they used them to hide their smiles and the words they exchanged as the Hawke brothers approached.
    “Ladies, may I present my brother, Mason?” Gordon asked. “Mason, this is my fiancée, Cynthia, and her sister, Tamara.”
    Hawke surprised everyone by clicking his heels together and bowing slightly, as he had seen it done in Europe. Then, as he had also seen it done, he kissed the hands of first Cynthia and then Tamara.
    Shortly after meeting the two ladies, there was some unscheduled excitement. Someone saw a mouse on the dance floor, and it caused quite a panic among all the women. Many of them ran from the frightened rodent, screaming hysterically. Somebody knocked over the punch bowl, another crashed through the window.
    It turned out that the mouse wasn’t on the floor by accident. It had been intentionally released by Brubaker’s fourteen year-old daughter, Angel, who was displeased because she had not been allowed to come to the barbecue.
    Hawke had thought of that night many times since then. That was the day the old Mason Hawke, the gentleman of music and art, of culture and decorum, of hope and faith, died. And somewhere, in the din and crash of battle, the new, soulless, and very deadly Mason Hawke was born.
    Eighteen months after that party, Hawke’s father, Colonel Jefferson Tinsdale Hawke, was killed at “the “bridge” during the Battle of Fredericksburg. Eighteen months after the colonel was killed, Major Gordon Hawke was killed.
    Hawke had become engaged to Tamara before the regiment left. But the marriage was never to be. Tamara died shortly before the end of the war. There probably would have been no wedding anyway. Hawke had lost his soul long before that.
     
    “May I make the gentleman’s bed, sir?”
    “What?” Hawke asked, jerked out of his reverie.
    The porter, leaning slightly over the seat, touched the bill of his cap. “May I make your bed for you, sir?” he asked again.
    “Oh. Yes,” Hawke said. “Yes, thank you.” He got up and stood in the aisle as the porter pulled the seats together to make the bunk. Since no one else was sharing the seat, there was no need to pull the top bunk out from the wall.

Chapter 4
    AS THE TRAIN SAT IN THE STATION, HAWKE STARED through the window at the little one-street town. The sign hanging on the weathered depot identified the town as SQUAW CREEK, IDAHO TERRITORY. There were no more than six or seven people on the platform, and whether they were waiting to board the train, or to meet someone, or to just watch it pass through, Hawke had no idea.
    A couple of riders passed close to the train, their horses badly lathered, as if they had been run hard. Hawke was certain they would head for the livery so the horses could be rubbed down, but instead the riders dismounted in front of the saloon.
    Muley Thomas and Quint Weathers had ridden their horses hard, and when they dismounted in front of the Red Star Saloon, both animals were covered with sweat lather and breathing heavily.
    “If we had enough money, we could get on that train and ride it to wherever it’s a-’goin’,” Quint said, pointing to the standing train.
    “And if a frog had wings, he wouldn’t bump his ass ever’ time he jumps,” Muley replied.
    “What’s that mean?” Quint asked.
    “It means we don’t have enough money for a train ticket, and there ain’t no sense worryin’ ’bout somethin’