Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach Read online

  Praise for

  JOAN JOHNSTON

  “Johnston warms your heart and tickles your fancy.”

  —New York Daily News

  “Skillful storyteller Johnston makes what would in lesser hands be melodrama, compellingly realistic.”

  —Booklist

  “Romance devotees will find Johnston lively and well-written, and her characters perfectly enchanting.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Joan Johnston continually gives us everything we want…a story that you wish would never end, and lots of tension and sensuality.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Joan Johnston [creates] unforgettable subplots and characters who make every fine thread weave into a touching tapestry.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  “Johnston’s characters struggle against seriously deranged foes and face seemingly insurmountable obstacles to true love.”

  —Booklist

  “A guaranteed good read.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham

  Also by

  JOAN JOHNSTON

  Hawk’s Way titles

  The Virgin Groom

  The Substitute Groom

  The Temporary Groom

  The Unforgiving Bride

  The Cowboy Takes a Wife

  The Wrangler and the Rich Girl

  The Cowboy and the Princess

  The Rancher & the Runaway Bride

  Other titles

  Sisters Found

  Honey and the Hired Hand

  A Little Time in Texas

  A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

  Never Tease a Wolf

  Marriage by the Book

  Fit To Be Tied

  JOAN JOHNSTON

  Hawk’s Way

  CALLEN & ZACH

  CONTENTS

  THE HEADSTRONG BRIDE

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  EPILOGUE

  THE DISOBEDIENT BRIDE

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  EPILOGUE

  THE HEADSTRONG BRIDE

  For Priscilla Kelley

  Because the little things do matter

  PROLOGUE

  “I’M SO SORRY ABOUT YOUR FATHER.” Callen Whitelaw felt awkward offering sympathy to someone she hardly knew. At first she didn’t think the grieving man was going to reply. When he did, he said one word in a ragged whisper.

  “Thanks.”

  Callen tried to imagine Sam Longstreet crying with enough despair to make himself hoarse. She wanted to fold him in her arms and comfort him. But he was a stranger, even though he had been a neighbor all her life. She had known his father, E.J., better than she knew Sam, because E.J. had come to Hawk’s Way often to spend time with her father.

  “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

  “No.” He hesitated a moment, then said, “Maybe there is. I have to go to Amarillo on business. Maybe you could meet me there, have dinner with me. I…I could use the company.”

  Callen was stunned by the invitation, which seemed to come out of the blue. Why would Sam Longstreet want to have dinner with her when he didn’t even know her?

  “Never mind,” he said when she hesitated too long.

  She caught his arm as he started to turn away. “Wait. Please. I’ll be glad to meet you. Just tell me when and where.”

  He named a time and a restaurant, and then his attention was drawn by another rancher offering condolences.

  Callen thought about the invitation during the entire drive home with her family, wondering what had compelled Sam to reach out to her. Once she was home, she asked her eldest brother, Zach, about Sam. Zach admitted to only a passing acquaintance with Sam. Her other brother, Falcon, hadn’t come home for the funeral from his ranch in Dallas, but Zach said he could speak for both of them.

  “Neither of us knew Sam very well,” Zach said. “He was two years ahead of me in school, three years ahead of Falcon, so we didn’t have any classes together.”

  Zach was thirty-four, so that would make Sam thirty-six, Callen figured. He had seemed every bit of that, his features chiseled by wind and weather, his striking green eyes webbed at the corners by the sun, his wide mouth bracketed by lines, his shaggy, chestnut hair streaked with blonde. It was a face aged by the hard life of a Texas rancher and by the grief that sat upon his brow.

  “Sam wasn’t too good with the books,” Zach continued. “The football coach got tutors to help him pass his class work so he could play. He was a great running back, as I recall, but he pretty much kept to himself.”

  “Was he good enough to play professionally?” Callen asked.

  “He hurt his knee in the state championship game. I guess he couldn’t run fast enough after that to compete in college. He settled in to work on the Double L after high school, and as far as I know he never aspired to anything else. Why are you interested in Sam Longstreet, anyway?”

  “He seemed so sad,” Callen said.

  “Stay away from him,” Zach warned. “He’s a saddle tramp with a rundown ranch.”

  “That’s unfair!” Callen retorted in defense of a man she had just met. “Just because the Longstreets don’t have as much money as the Whitelaws doesn’t make Sam any less of a man.”

  “He’s never going to amount to anything.”

  “How do you know?”

  “If he was going to do anything with that ranch to improve it, he would have done it by now,” Zach said.

  “Not necessarily,” Callen retorted. “Maybe he and his father disagreed about what ought to be done.” Callen knew she had hit a sore spot with Zach, because he and their father often disagreed about ranching methods.

  “You’re speculating,” Zach accused.

  “You’re just mad because you know I’m right,” Callen shot back.

  Her quarrel with Zach was loud enough to bring their mother, Candy, into the parlor from the kitchen.

  “What’s going on in here?” she asked.

  “Callen’s got herself into a snit over that good-for-nothing at the Double L.”

  “Sam Longstreet is not—”

  “That’s enough from both of you,” Candy interrupted. “Zach, don’t you have some business with your father in his office?” Once Zach was gone, she turned to Callen. “Now what’s all this about Sam Longstreet?”

  “I spoke to him at E.J.’s funeral,” Callen said. “He seemed so alone, Mom, and so sad. I wanted to do something for him, but I didn’t know what. He mentioned he was going to be in Amarillo on business and asked me to join him for dinner. I said yes.”

  Her mother arched a questioning brow but said nothing either to approve or disapprove of what Callen had done.

  Yet Callen felt the need to explain herself. “I couldn’t say no, Mom. I mean, there was something so peculiar about the way he looked at me. He didn’t say much of anything, but I could hear him speaking to me with his eyes. It was so strange.”

  “Peculiar. Strange. Those are odd words to describe a man you’ve agreed to join for dinner,” her mother mused.

  “That’s the problem, Mom,” Callen said, shoving a hand through the dark bangs that hung slightly in her eyes. “I don’t know exactly how to describe
him. He seemed so sad. And lonely.”

  “I see. So you want to make him happy and less lonely?”

  “Is that so awful?”

  Her mother slid an arm around her waist and hugged her slightly. “Not if you keep in mind that what you’re offering Sam Longstreet is friendship. Just don’t let yourself tumble head over heels in love with a man who’s too wounded to love you back.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’M GOING TO MARRY SAM LONGSTREET, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” Callen said to her father in a calm, brittle voice. Her brown eyes flashed with defiance. “What’s wrong with Sam? He’s a rancher, a close neighbor. Longstreet land has bordered Whitelaw land in northwest Texas for generations!”

  Garth Whitelaw eyed his daughter, the youngest of his three grown children, with trepidation. She had been engaged twice, but never married. Both times, he had warned her she was making a mistake. Both times, she had disregarded his advice, only to break the engagements later when she learned the truth of what he had said. Now she was proposing a third prospective husband, this one as bad—maybe even worse—than the other two. Garth had learned that telling Callen no was like waving a red flag in front of a bull, but he felt so strongly that Sam was the wrong man for his daughter that he made his arguments anyway.

  “Sam Longstreet will never amount to anything,” he said. “He’s a down-at-the-heels rogue with nothing to his name but a ramshackle ranch. At a guess, I’d say he’s only interested in your money.”

  “That’s despicable!” Callen retorted. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”

  “Because it’s true,” Garth replied in a steely voice. “You’re an heiress, Sam’s a dirt-poor rancher. He was lucky to get through high school, and he hasn’t done anything since to educate himself. He’s a loner, and he’s lazy. The Double L is falling down around him. What can the two of you possibly have in common?”

  “Sam’s a wonderful man,” Callen argued. “He’s just had a lot of hard luck lately. His father made some bad investments that took all their savings. I’ll agree Sam has been reclusive in the months since his dad died, but that sort of blow would be hard on anyone who loved his father as much as Sam loved E.J.”

  Garth probably missed E. J. Longstreet as much or more than Sam did. The two older men had been good friends. It was a shame what had happened to E.J., and Garth sympathized with Sam’s loss. But that didn’t mean he wanted Sam for a son-in-law. He couldn’t imagine what his daughter found attractive about the rancher. He asked again, “What do you see in him?”

  Callen hesitated a moment before she replied. “Sam needs me, Daddy. And I need him. He makes me feel…special.”

  Garth snorted. “I’m not saying what happens between a man and woman between the sheets isn’t important. But you’re going to find it mighty tough sitting across from a lazy good-for-nothing at the breakfast table for the rest of your life.”

  Callen’s lips flattened and her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t mean Sam makes me feel special in bed. I meant—Oh, what’s the use! I’m not going to change your mind, and you’re not going to change mine. I wasn’t asking your permission to marry Sam, I just wanted to let you know we’re going to be married and invite you to the wedding.”

  “I won’t be there,” Garth said flatly.

  Callen’s chin quivered. She gritted her teeth to steady it before replying, “That’s up to you, of course.” She started for the front door of the antebellum-style mansion that had been built more than a century before as the main ranch house at Hawk’s Way. She paused at the front door, waiting, hoping her father would change his mind. Her heart sank as she heard his parting words.

  “If you marry Sam, you won’t have a job here anymore.” Garth knew the threat was a mistake the moment the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late to take them back. Callen was the best cutting horse trainer he had. She wouldn’t have any trouble finding another job. And he didn’t want to lose all contact with his only daughter. Though it had been years since he had said the words to her, he loved her dearly.

  Callen’s shoulders stiffened, then squared, before she turned to face her father. “I hope you’ll change your mind, Daddy. Because come Friday, I’m going to be Mrs. Sam Longstreet.”

  Callen headed for the stable to saddle her horse. She needed some time alone to think. The canyons and gullies of Hawk’s Way had long provided a haven, a ready balm for her soul. Once in the saddle, Callen aimed her horse into the Texas sun. It felt wonderful on her face, and the wind brushed her bangs away from her forehead and lifted her shoulder-length black hair so it flew in the breeze. She relaxed her jaw, which she realized was still clenched.

  She was furious with her father for opposing her marriage to Sam and equally terrified that he might be right. He had been right twice before. But Sam was different, not at all like the previous two men she had planned to marry. In the first place, Sam was a rancher. She had grown up on Hawk’s Way, and there wasn’t anything she didn’t know about cattle or cutting horses. She and Sam had that in common, since he had grown up on the Double L. But she would have been hard-pressed to name the specific things about Sam that made her so sure they were right for each other.

  When she had gone to dinner with Sam three months ago, Callen had found herself utterly charmed by him. There was something dangerous about Sam, about his moods and the way he carried himself. And yet his eyes were so very sad. And kind. That was the word she would have used to describe his behavior toward her.

  She could remember Sam’s first kiss as though it had just happened. He had walked her to her car from the restaurant and stood there looking at her with eyes that spoke volumes. The closest light came from the restaurant, and they stood partly in shadow.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  Callen had been told that before by more than one man, but Sam made her believe it. He cupped one cheek with his hand and brushed his callused thumb across her lips. She shivered at the touch. Her eyes had drifted closed as he slowly lowered his head.

  His lips were incredibly soft as he pressed them to hers. He brushed them once, twice across her mouth before lifting his head to stare into her eyes once more.

  He’d left her wanting much, much more.

  It was only the first of many excursions together. They often went riding over Double L land and, if Callen were honest, she had to admit the place needed work. Fences were down, windmills screeched for want of oil, the barn needed some sideboards replaced and the house—at least from the outside—had seen much better days.

  When she asked Sam about the rundown condition of the Double L, he had replied, “It takes money to make repairs. Not all of us are blessed with wealth.”

  Seeing how sensitive he was about the difference in their economic situations, she hadn’t brought up the subject again.

  Their second kiss had come a week after the first, at a moment when they had just stepped down to rest their horses. She was caught by surprise because it was a kiss of hunger, and she hadn’t seen the need in Sam’s eyes until he reached for her and pulled her into his embrace. His body was large and hard, and she had felt enveloped by him—safe, secure, and very much wanted. His hands moved hesitantly over her body at first, barely touching, reverently touching, and finally claiming her. She felt breathless when he finally released her.

  “Sam…please.” It was a plea to finish what he had started.

  Sam shook his head and, in a voice harsh with need, said, “No, Callen. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Why not?”

  He smiled ruefully. “In the first place, I don’t have any kind of protection with me.”

  She blushed furiously. She should have thought of that herself.

  “In the second place, you deserve better. A soft bed and a lover who belongs to you, heart and soul.”

  She hadn’t known what to reply to that.

  “Come on,” he said, lifting her into the saddle. “We’d better get back to the house.”r />
  They had been seeing each other almost daily for a month when she asked if she could see the inside of his house.

  Again, Sam shook his head no.

  “Why not?” she demanded, fists perched on hips.

  “Because I wouldn’t trust myself alone with you if there was a bed anywhere nearby.”

  Callen had been flattered but was so used to getting her own way that she didn’t give up. She pressed herself close to Sam, feeling the way his body tensed and hardened. “I wouldn’t mind, Sam,” she purred in her most seductive voice.

  “I would,” Sam said as he caught her by the arms and moved her away. “You deserve the best, Callen. You deserve to be treated with respect.”

  Callen met Sam’s gaze, her eyes wide with surprise. His words were what every woman wanted to hear, yet her brow soon furrowed in confusion. His ideas concerning courtship were so…old-fashioned. He had to know, since she had been engaged twice, that she wasn’t a virgin who needed to be protected from the importunities of a forceful male. But Sam had apparently put her on a pedestal. She found it awkward to stay balanced there, knowing herself to be far less than perfect. But, oh, how good it felt to be so cherished!

  Then the precious moment had come, just two days ago, when Sam proposed to her.

  “I know I’m not good enough for you,” Sam began.

  She pressed her fingertips to his lips. How could he not be good enough when he made her feel so wonderful?

  “You deserve better,” he insisted. “But I’ll do my best to make your life as happy as I can. Will you marry me, Callen? Will you be my wife?”

  Her throat was so tight with emotion that she hadn’t been able to answer right away. At last she said, “Yes, Sam, I’ll marry you. I want to be your wife.”

  He kissed her then, tenderly at first and then hungrily, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and claiming her. He hugged her so tightly she squeaked with pain. When he released her, they looked at each other and laughed with joy.