had ever known Hank Chavez.
Chapter 11
L EAVING the scene of her disgrace, Samantha had one consolation. She found blood on the ground. Whether the blood was from the eight deep, ragged cuts on his chest or from bullet wounds she didn’t know. But at least she was assured that he was in pain. It made her feel much better.
It had taken a long time to pull herself together as she sat by the stream, recalling every single thing. She washed Hank’s blood from her chest and tried to get it out of her white blouse. It had stained both sides because he had bled so much. She took satisfaction from that. She had scarred him.
With that thought firmly in mind, she rode hard, tracing the way back to Adrien’s camp. She had loaded her derringer again from the bullets she always kept in her purse and was in a mood to face trouble, any kind of trouble, but there was none on the way back to the camp.
She had pinned her hair up off her neck again and replaced her hat, and her clothes were only slightly wrinkled and damp, so she believed that she looked herself. She didn’t know that her eyes were flashing like emeralds in the bright sun. But Jeannette noticed immediately, noticed that and other things, as well.
“ Mon Dieu! What has happened to your mouth—and your neck?” Jeannette gasped after Samantha slid off her horse and stomped over to her.
“What are you talking about?” Samantha stopped in her tracks.
“Blood is smeared from your mouth to your neck! And…” She walked around Samantha. “There is blood on the back of your neck and in your hair. What has happened? ”
“It is not my blood, so it doesn’t matter!” Samantha snapped, and she went to find the canteen of water that was always by Adrien’s tent.
Jeannette followed, her face tight with concern as she watched Samantha wipe viciously at the blood on her face. “It is his blood, then?”
They both knew who she meant. “Yes!”
“What did you do to him?”
Samantha’s head snapped around, and she stared fiercely at the petite blonde. “What did I do?” Her tone was contemptuously cutting. “You haven’t asked what he did! All I want to know is how you could leave me alone with that bastard.”
“Samantha!”
“Samantha nothing!” she stormed. “You knew how improper it would be to let me ride back alone with him. Yet you insisted on staying here. You insisted Adrien was sick. He better damn well be sick, Jeannette,” she warned darkly. “Where is he?”
“Not far,” Jeannette replied, alarmed. “He went up the creek a little way.”
“Adrien!” Samantha shouted toward the creek. “Adrien! Get down here!”
“Samantha, please. Tell me what happened.”
Samantha turned on her friend, her eyes narrow. “I’m beginning to wonder if you didn’t contrive the whole thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“ You were the one who invited Hank along today, and I know you don’t even like him. And then you managed to leave me alone with him. Did you do it on purpose? Were you hoping he could make me forget about your brother?”
Jeannette paled and was about to stammer out ananswer when Adrien appeared. “What is all the shouting? Samantha, why have you come back here?”
“To see you, Adrien.” She managed a calm answer.
She found she was looking at him in a new light, Hank’s accusation taunting her.
“What did you want to see me about?” Adrien asked cautiously, her mood warning him to keep his distance.
“You seem wary of me, Adrien,” she said in a deceptively soft voice. “Why do I make you nervous?”
“You don’t,” he denied, even as he backed farther away. “What has got into you, Samantha?” he demanded.
“Nothing that a little honesty wouldn’t help,” she replied with calm purpose as she caught his hand, drawing him close to her. “Kiss me, Adrien.”
He jumped back, snatching his hand away. “What is the matter with you?” he gasped.
“Nothing,” she said evenly, “but if you don’t
Chapter 11
L EAVING the scene of her disgrace, Samantha had one consolation. She found blood on the ground. Whether the blood was from the eight deep, ragged cuts on his chest or from bullet wounds she didn’t know. But at least she was assured that he was in pain. It made her feel much better.
It had taken a long time to pull herself together as she sat by the stream, recalling every single thing. She washed Hank’s blood from her chest and tried to get it out of her white blouse. It had stained both sides because he had bled so much. She took satisfaction from that. She had scarred him.
With that thought firmly in mind, she rode hard, tracing the way back to Adrien’s camp. She had loaded her derringer again from the bullets she always kept in her purse and was in a mood to face trouble, any kind of trouble, but there was none on the way back to the camp.
She had pinned her hair up off her neck again and replaced her hat, and her clothes were only slightly wrinkled and damp, so she believed that she looked herself. She didn’t know that her eyes were flashing like emeralds in the bright sun. But Jeannette noticed immediately, noticed that and other things, as well.
“ Mon Dieu! What has happened to your mouth—and your neck?” Jeannette gasped after Samantha slid off her horse and stomped over to her.
“What are you talking about?” Samantha stopped in her tracks.
“Blood is smeared from your mouth to your neck! And…” She walked around Samantha. “There is blood on the back of your neck and in your hair. What has happened? ”
“It is not my blood, so it doesn’t matter!” Samantha snapped, and she went to find the canteen of water that was always by Adrien’s tent.
Jeannette followed, her face tight with concern as she watched Samantha wipe viciously at the blood on her face. “It is his blood, then?”
They both knew who she meant. “Yes!”
“What did you do to him?”
Samantha’s head snapped around, and she stared fiercely at the petite blonde. “What did I do?” Her tone was contemptuously cutting. “You haven’t asked what he did! All I want to know is how you could leave me alone with that bastard.”
“Samantha!”
“Samantha nothing!” she stormed. “You knew how improper it would be to let me ride back alone with him. Yet you insisted on staying here. You insisted Adrien was sick. He better damn well be sick, Jeannette,” she warned darkly. “Where is he?”
“Not far,” Jeannette replied, alarmed. “He went up the creek a little way.”
“Adrien!” Samantha shouted toward the creek. “Adrien! Get down here!”
“Samantha, please. Tell me what happened.”
Samantha turned on her friend, her eyes narrow. “I’m beginning to wonder if you didn’t contrive the whole thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“ You were the one who invited Hank along today, and I know you don’t even like him. And then you managed to leave me alone with him. Did you do it on purpose? Were you hoping he could make me forget about your brother?”
Jeannette paled and was about to stammer out ananswer when Adrien appeared. “What is all the shouting? Samantha, why have you come back here?”
“To see you, Adrien.” She managed a calm answer.
She found she was looking at him in a new light, Hank’s accusation taunting her.
“What did you want to see me about?” Adrien asked cautiously, her mood warning him to keep his distance.
“You seem wary of me, Adrien,” she said in a deceptively soft voice. “Why do I make you nervous?”
“You don’t,” he denied, even as he backed farther away. “What has got into you, Samantha?” he demanded.
“Nothing that a little honesty wouldn’t help,” she replied with calm purpose as she caught his hand, drawing him close to her. “Kiss me, Adrien.”
He jumped back, snatching his hand away. “What is the matter with you?” he gasped.
“Nothing,” she said evenly, “but if you don’t
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