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

her whipped through him until he shook with it.
    He launched to his feet, pacing through the meadow where nighthawks hunted and owls glided by on soundless wings. Frustration pounded him like wind-driven hail.
    Meka’s bark echoed across the low-rising meadow, announcing a late-night visitor. Night Hawk turned toward the road, already recognizing the faint crisp clip of a powerful gelding’s gait. The colonel.
    Night Hawk felt his stomach clench, and he knew this was no business call. Henry Lafayette hadn’t come to discuss business or request help for an injured horse. Not at this time of night. Not judging by the brisk, almost angry snap of his horse’s gait.
    Preparing for the worst, Night Hawk ordered Meka to heel and cut through the meadow. A last quarter moon cast scant light across the wildflowers waving in the breezes. A badger snarled at the edge of the clearing, where a small creek whispered a melody, and Night Hawk knew just how the badger felt.
    â€œHenry,” Night Hawk greeted the dark rider. “This must mean your daughter has told you about her mare.”
    The colonel drew his gelding up short, the man’s tension causing the animal distress, as he dismounted heavily from his saddle. “Marie is young and impulsive, but I expected better of you, Night Hawk. You’vealways been a man I can trust whenever I’ve turned to you for help.”
    â€œI had no intentions to harm your daughter, Henry, and you know it.” Night Hawk understood a father’s protective nature, yet he would not be intimidated by anyone. He was a warrior, a brave who’d fought his first bear at thirteen, who’d lost his father and many of his clan a year later. He’d been a man long before the colonel had set foot on this land they called Wisconsin.
    â€œYour daughter is no child, Henry, and I am no weak-willed man. You know well I’d never harm your daughter or any woman, white or Indian.”
    Henry drew himself up taller, his rounding middle tensing, his shoulders straightening as if ready to fight for his daughter’s honor. Seconds ticked by, marked by his short, angry puffs of breath.
    Then his shoulders relaxed. “I know the man you are, Night Hawk. I didn’t come here to accuse you.”
    â€œYou came to vent your anger on me. A father’s anger at a daughter no longer his child.”
    â€œShe’s a woman all right and she needs a firm hand.” Henry sighed, a long pent-up frustrated sound that made him less the imposing colonel and more a concerned father. “I shall have to lock her up in her room until the school term starts.”
    â€œShe’d merely climb out the window. She’s a young bird spreading her wings.”
    â€œAnd she’ll ruin her reputation if she’s not careful,” Henry muttered, showing the true issue behind his anger and frustration. He marched up the dark road, dragging his gelding by the reins.
    â€œHer reputation is in no danger with me. You believe that?”
    â€œYes.”
    To his credit, there was no hesitation in Henry’s answer, and it stung Night Hawk’s conscience. Hadn’t he been dreaming of Marie’s mouth the same instant her father had been riding down this road?
    Shame filled him, as thick and cold as a winter’s fog. Ashamed because he’d delighted in the warmth of Marie’s presence, fed her watermelon from his fingers and wanted to see her again. Hell, he didn’t want to see her. He wanted to taste her sweet lips and hold her the way a man embraced a woman.
    Night Hawk stepped inside his back door and grabbed a bottle of scotch from the pantry shelf, kept for the colonel’s visits. He faced a truth he’d known all along.
    These forbidden afternoons with Marie had to end. Now. Her laughter would no longer grace the wind. Her brightness would no longer complement the sun in his meadows. Her woman’s beauty would no longer make hunger