Magnificent Passage by Kat Martin

cause her alotted amount of trouble for the day. But Hawk was relentless. Reminding herself of her promise to her cousin, and in protest to the grueling pace, she began to curse him under her breath, then finally aloud.

    â€œAre you trying to return me to my home, or get me out of my father’s hair for good?” she questioned waspishly. Then she wondered if there might be some truth to her words. He remained silent. “Have you no decency? How much am I supposed to suffer just because I happened to fall in love?”
    Both men drew up their mounts at that remark. They looked as though they felt she might be somewhat justified in her thinking.
    â€œI suppose we’re far enough away. Our trail’s too cold to follow by now, and the route we took should have lost him anyway. We’ll make camp early,” Hawk promised. His dark eyes scanned the countryside.
    â€œThank God.” Mandy sighed. The pace so far would have strained even the most seasoned traveler.
    They found a likely campsite on the north side of the Mormon trail, the route they would now be following, at least as far as Great Salt Lake City. The land was flat and grassy. Deep wagon ruts marked the trail, worn by years of determined emigrants, as they were known. The pilgrims who traveled west thought of themselves as migrating from their former homeland instead of to a new home as most immigrants did.
    The trio tethered their animals beneath a grove of cedars that lined a small inlet on the winding Platte. Mandy couldn’t wait to get the week’s worth of dust and grime off her body.
    â€œI’m going to take a bath downstream,” she announced as soon as they were settled. “I’ll thank you to give me some privacy.”

    â€œYou’re not going anywhere,” Hawk said. “At least not until I have a chance to scout the area.” He turned his attention to James. “I saw some fresh sign earlier, in that direction.” Hawk pointed downstream. “I’d better take a look.”
    Mandy was certain Hawk was just being contrary. There hadn’t been any Indian problems recently, at least not in this area. Besides, Red Cloud had already agreed to sign a peace treaty. Who did Hawk think he was fooling? It was just another ploy to keep her close to camp. Deciding to confront him, she marched resolutely in his direction.
    â€œYou take great pleasure in disagreeing with me, don’t you?” she told him. “You’re just trying to make my life as miserable as possible. Is Father paying you extra to torture me all the way to California?”
    She was grimy and tired and yearned for a bath in the stream. She stamped her foot and pouted, just as her cousin had taught her. But she was beginning to have difficulty separating her “Julia” role from the real Samantha. Or was she really more like her cousin than she thought? This sandy-haired stranger had her frustrated and confused.
    Hawk just glowered and stalked away.
    â€œWe’d better do as he says,” James said, giving her a sympathetic glance. “The water looks inviting to me too, but I’ve come to respect Hawk’s sixth sense when it comes to trouble. It’s saved our necks on more than one occasion.” He put his hand on her shoulder, meaning to console her, but she pushed his hand away.
    She was in no mood to be placated. She just wanted a bath. She tossed back her head and plopped down on a big boulder without so much as a backward glance.

    â€œLeave her be.” Staring at the girl’s stiff back, Hawk was all too aware of the fetching picture she made in the dustcovered riding habit. When she turned around, a ragged tear in the bodice revealed a little too much cleavage and a split seam a good bit of ivory skin. He saw a fleeting image of himself ripping the clothes off piece by piece, leaving only her mane of chestnut hair to cover her charms. He shook his head as if to clear the