Read Online Heart of the Hawk by Justine Dare Justine Davis - Free Book Online

lifted its weight out of her hands.
    “Here?”
    She nodded, staring at the man as he easily lifted the heavy keg up to the shelf she’d indicated.
    “I expected you’d be long gone by now, Mr. Hawk,” she said, thinking as she said it about Luke’s excitement at being allowed to call him by his given name. Josh, Luke had told her. Short for Joshua, she supposed. A biblical name for a hardly biblical man. Of course, Luke had also told her he was a kind, patient man a fellow could talk to, an unlikely description of The Hawk, which she credited to the blindness of the hero worship of an impressionable young boy.
    “So did I,” he said. He pulled off his hat and shoved his hair back with his left hand, sharply, like a man not used to having his hair so long.
    “So why aren’t you?”
    His mouth twisted. “I’m not exactly sure.”
    She saw his eyes linger for a moment on her cheek, where the bruise was at last beginning to fade. Every morning she looked in her piece of broken mirror and rejoiced that when this one was gone, there would be no more.
    As if he’d read her thoughts, he said quietly, “Pick a kinder man next time.”
    Kate laughed, a bleak, humorless sound. Next time? Not likely there would be one. “I didn’t pick this one,” she said pointedly.
    “No?”
    Her chin came up. “No, Mr. Hawk. When we first came to Gambler’s Notch, we’d only been here three days, and already heard that Arly Dixon was the most mean-spirited man in town. Do you think I would want to marry a man like that?”
    “Then why did you?”
    Life was so simple for men, Kate thought. If they didn’t want to do something, they didn’t do it. No one forced them, or if they tried to, a man could leave and make his own way. Even if the only thing he could do was kill, he could make a living at it, she thought sourly as she looked at The Hawk. While she, as a woman, was merely a possession to be passed from an indifferent father to a brutal husband without a second thought.
    He was staring at her oddly, almost embarrassedly, as if he somehow realized he’d somehow said something wrong. Or very foolish.
    “My father gave me to him,” she said abruptly, not sure why she’d said it, when she never talked about this to anyone.
    He blinked. “What?”
    “He wanted new boots. He couldn’t pay. So Arly took me in trade.”
    He stared at her, so clearly astonished that she almost forgave him for being male. Almost.
    “Was there something you wanted, Mr. Hawk?”
    “No. I mean yes,” he said, and she nearly smiled at the thought of having flustered the mighty Hawk. “I need some .44 cartridges.”
    I’m sure you do, she thought. But she merely walked over to the shelf where the boxes of ammunition were stacked, glad of the chance not to have to look at him. She paused with her hand on the top box of cartridges.
    “How many?”
    “Four.”
    Startled, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Four boxes?”
    He nodded. Lifting two of the boxes at a time—they were fairly heavy for their size—she moved four of them to the counter.
    “Going . . . hunting?”
    If he noticed her pause, or understood her tacit insinuation about the kind of hunting he did, he didn’t react. She supposed he’d heard it too many times before.
    “Practicing,” was all he said.
    “Practicing?” You had to practice being a hired gun?
    “You think it happens by . . . magic?”
    As he said the last word, a very odd expression, half bemused, half cynical flitted across his face. She wondered what he’d thought of that had caused it. Then he shrugged and went on.
    “You don’t practice, your aim gets rusty.”
    “Aim? I thought who is fastest was the most important.”
    “Been reading dime novels, have you?”
    Kate colored; she had, on occasion, read a few of the little books. They were easier to read than some of the other books she tried, and made her feel less stupid. Then, reminding herself of her resolution to never again be