Night Hawk'S Bride (Tyler) (Harlequin Historical Series, No 558) Read Free Page B

sounds of his native tongue while holding tight to the gelding’s halter with one hand. He stroked the horse’s gleaming coat with the other. The animal fought, and the man’s muscles corded beneath the deerskin shirt, holding him steady.
    Night Hawk’s touch was magic, and the dangerous horse calmed.
    Unbelievable.
    â€œHe cannot harm you. I have him cross-tied and hobbled.” Night Hawk caressed one bronzed hand down the gelding’s neck with the ease of a natural-born horseman. “Devil is not used to a woman’s skirts.”
    â€œShould I leave?”
    â€œNo. I can control him. You have nothing to fear.”
    Something within Marie’s heart clicked. Just like that. As a lock finding its key at the right moment.
    Could he be the one, she wondered. The one she’d been waiting for all her life?
    Excitement flickered through her in hot, bright flames. She dared to step forward, wanting, no— needing —to be closer to him. “I saw you save the little girl’s life. How badly were you injured?”
    He didn’t meet her eyes. “I will heal.”
    â€œI saw the blood on your shirt. In the mercantile. When you spoke to me.” She felt breathless, as if there wasn’t enough air in the building.
    â€œCassie Ingalls is my friend’s daughter. I would trade my life for my friend.”
    â€œOr for any child.” She could feel it, the kind of man he was at heart—brave, noble and humble. A dream man who couldn’t possibly be real.
    But the real flesh-and-blood man stepped out of the shadows and into the light. “Does your father know you’re here?”
    What did she look like, a girl and not a woman grown? Heat flamed her face and it took all her self-control to modulate her words. “I’m my own woman, Mr. Night Hawk.”
    â€œJust Night Hawk.” He spoke deep like rolling thunder and as gentle as twilight.
    Another jolt spiraled through her.
    He cupped the stallion’s front hoof in one hand, leaned his solid shoulder against the horse’s side and lifted.
    Marie saw the rivulet of blood streaking the animal’s delicate fetlock. “He’s injured.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m here. No one under your father’s command could get close enough to treat him.”
    â€œThen you work for my father?”
    â€œNo. I came as a favor.” Night Hawk reached up to reposition the lantern and didn’t look at her.
    Bright light illuminated the angry gashes on the gelding’s neck and the man’s big, healing hands. Such gentle, masculine hands.
    Marie shivered deep inside. She couldn’t move away. “It looks to me as if you need some help.”
    â€œDoes it?” He lifted one dark brow, measuring her. “You’re not afraid of Devil?”
    â€œNot with you here.”
    He nodded toward the shadows. “You can fetch that basin for me.”
    She lifted the hot enamel container from the shadowed dirt floor. Mossy-smelling steam brushed her face as she knelt in the crackling straw beside the horse.
    â€œCloser to me,” Night Hawk urged.
    Closer? She was already near enough to see the bold, high cut of his cheekbones and the wide, lean cut of his shoulders. He smelled pleasantly of night and wind. She managed to crawl a few more inches on her knees.
    He dipped a cloth into the steaming basin and wrung it well. He was big but his ministrations were gentle as he cleaned the blood from the horse’s wounded fetlock.
    She had never seen tenderness like this in so strong a man.
    â€œNow that the wound is cleaned, come closer,” he said. “Help me with the bandaging.”
    Unable to speak, Marie obeyed. Kneeling together in the shadows, she could feel his body’s radiant heat.
    Night Hawk held a roll of muslin to the gelding’s fetlock. “Hold this in place for me. Right here.” He caught her hand and pressed it to the bandage just