Her Sheriff Bodyguard. Lynna Banning
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seat, mister. The one next to the lady doesn’t belong to you.”
“Oh, very well. Excuse me, ma’am.” The watery eyes closed and he tipped the derby back over his face. Caroline sent Hawk a grateful look.
“You all right?” he mouthed.
The ghost of a smile curved her lips and she nodded. Hawk tipped his head toward the stranger and lifted his eyebrows in a question. Again she smiled, and this time it touched her eyes.
He sucked in air as his stomach rolled over, then latched the door and rejoined Jingo on the driver’s bench.
“Them ladies all right?”
He grunted.
“Relax, Hawk. We got some hard hours on the road ahead of us.”
“You just drive this contraption, Jingo.” He wouldn’t relax until they reached Oakridge. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Gambling Man inside the coach, whether he was really on the up-and-up or whether he flimflammed when he saw a badge.
Sweat began at the back of his neck. Another few hours of this and he’d draw his weapon on every male that came within twenty feet of her.
“Ya want me to sing somethin’?” Jingo quipped. “The horses like it when I sing.”
Hawk rolled his eyes.
Jingo warbled in an off-tune tenor voice all the way to the stage station. By the time they pulled up at the small two-room shack, Hawk’s patience was wearing thinner than the film on a stagnant frog pond.
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