Page 106 of Native Hawk
Jasper figured the half-breed was probably knocking boots with one of the shady ladies. So when he forced open the door and found the man alone in a tub, he was taken aback for a moment.
The half-breed dove for the nightstand, and Jasper raised his pistol.
But the half-breed’s hands came up empty. Whatever he was looking for wasn’t there. He spat out what Jasper assumed was an Injun curse. Then, raising his hands and hanging his head, he stepped from the tub, naked and dripping.
Jasper could have shot him right then. He should have. But even though he’d spent days on the trail, hunting the man responsible for his son’s death, there was something about shooting anyone that naked and helpless that made him hesitate.
That moment of hesitation cost him everything. He took a step into the room. In the next instant, he heard the unmistakable click of a gun cocking behind his head.
“Stop.”
He froze. It was a woman. He wasn’t afraid of a woman.
Catalina wasn’t afraid of the big bear. She had Drew’s gun in her hand. She might not have shot a man before. But she had shot a hole in the floor. She knew what to do.
Behind her, sensing danger, the ladies retreated to the safety of their rooms with soft cries of dismay.
Catalina’s hand was steadier than she expected. But determination did that to a person. And she was quite determined that the big, bad man would not shoot her beloved.
“Cat, no!”
From around the man’s big shoulder, she could see Drew. He was still wet from his bath and completely nude. He had his hands above his head and a look of desperation on his face.
“Put the gun down, Cat!”
She hesitated. He shouldn’t talk to her like that. Now her hands were quivering and indecisive. Still, she didn’t lower her weapon.
“Cat, he’s a lawman, a sheriff. You can’t shoot him. They’ll hang you.”
She blinked in surprise. A sheriff? What did a sheriff want with Drew?
“That’s right, ma’am,” the stranger murmured. “So you’d best…”
She jabbed the back of his head with the barrel. “I do not care if he is theDuca di Spoleto,”she bit out. “I came halfway around the world to find you, Drew Hawk, and I am not about to let you get shot again. One bullet in your body this month is enough.”
Drew’s gaze softened just enough to let her know that her words had moved him.
Then, to her surprise, the sheriff started chuckling. “Oh, I don’t mean to shoot him, ma’am. Is that what you thought?”
Catalina swallowed. She knew better than to trust him, even if he was a man of the law. Men often said one thing and did another.
“No,” the sheriff said, “I’m just here to collect him so’s he can have a fair trial, that’s all.”
Catalina tightened her grip. “A fair trial?” she challenged. “For a half-breed? There’s no such thing as a—”
Before she could brace herself, the man’s hand came around and seized the barrel of the pistol, wrenching it aside. The reflexive shot she fired missed his head and hit the wall. And then he ripped the gun out of her grip.
“Cat!” Drew’s voice rang out over the suddenly silent salon.
The brute wheeled and gave her a hard shove. Her spine struck the balcony railing with paralyzing force and bent her backward. Everyone on the ground floor gasped. Then he took aim.
She heard the shot. But she didn’t feel it.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. She blinked once, and it felt like it took forever.
Drew had told her what it was like to be hit by a bullet. At first there was no pain. Later, he said, the burning had come.
She was numb. There was a queer ringing in her ears, and beneath that sound, she could hear her own heart beating.
