Hawk's Way Collection: Faron And Garth: Hawk's Way: Garth / Hawk's Way: Faron. Joan Johnston

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      She was unprepared when Faron left the table and crossed to her. He stood facing her and said in a voice too low to carry back to Madelyn, “Are you all right?”

      She felt breathless again. “Yes. I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

      He put a hand on her shoulder, and she felt the pressure of it deep in the pit of her belly.

      “I made some calls while you were having lunch and hired some men to do the heavy labor. There’s no reason for you to leave the house tomorrow.”

      Her eyes flashed up to meet his concerned gaze. “I’ll do my part,” she said.

      “You don’t—”

      “I don’t want any favors from you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

      Belinda jerked herself away and marched toward the spiral staircase. She felt Faron’s eyes on her the entire way up to the second floor. When she reached her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

      She felt like crying. Why hadn’t she met Faron Whitelaw eight years ago? It was too late now for what might have been. And what made her think things would be any different with Faron? She had learned her lessons from Wayne. Things had been fine with him, too, at first. It was only later…

      But Wayne Prescott had never made her feel the things Faron Whitelaw made her feel. Belinda was frightened. And excited. She felt a sort of anticipation for the days to come that she knew was dangerous for her peace of mind. Worst of all was the knowledge that she desired Faron Whitelaw every bit as much as he seemed to desire her.

      She had to resist temptation. She had to make herself a regal, unapproachable Princess. Maybe that would keep the Cowboy at bay.

      Belinda lifted her chin and focused her eyes on the distant canopy bed with its delicate eyelet covers. It was a bed eminently fit for a princess who had resigned herself to life in an inaccessible, remote ivory tower.

      She crossed the room and sat down on the bed with her back stiff and her teeth clenched to still a quivering chin. She had survived a lot over the past eight years. By God, she would survive this, as well.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      OVER THE NEXT SEVERAL WEEKS, Belinda kept her distance from Faron. She conversed with him at breakfast, where Madelyn provided a buffer, and he gave her jobs so she could contribute to the work being accomplished at King’s Castle. But nothing she did brought her into contact with Faron.

      She marveled at the improvements in the ranch. Fences lost their dilapidated look, buildings got a new coat of paint, windmills began to whir again, machinery had a well-oiled sound. She began to believe that they really might find a buyer for the ranch. And to realize that if—when—King’s Castle was finally sold, she was going to miss it.

      One of her jobs today was to oil all the hinges on the stalls. Belinda thought she was alone in the barn, so she practically jumped out of her skin when a voice behind her said, “What are you doing?”

      She whirled, then expelled a relieved breath. “You scared me half to death!”

      Faron grinned. “I usually have a somewhat different effect on women. So what are you doing?” he asked again.

      She held out the oil can so he could see it. “I’m doing just what you ordered me to do this morning.”

      “Ordered?”

      “All right, what you suggested I do.”

      He took the can out of her hand and set it on the corner of one of the stalls. “Madelyn sent me to get you. She said she needs you in the house.”

      If Belinda thought that keeping distance between them had diffused the sexual tension one whit, she was finding out now that she had been wrong. She was aware of Faron from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “Did she say why she wants me?”

      “No. But I noticed there’s a lot of cleaning going on in the house. I asked Rue what was going on, and she said we’re expecting company.”

      “My sisters and their families always come to King’s Castle to visit during the Fourth of July holiday.”

      “Now I remember. You said something about that the first day—” He cut himself off. He didn’t want to think back to the day he had met Belinda, when they had shared a special moment in time together. He had been trying desperately over the past couple of weeks to treat her like the stepmother she was.

      It wasn’t working. All he had to do was take a breath around her, and his body surged to life. He had given her things to do that would keep them apart, but once her family arrived they would be forced into social situations together. It would be hell pretending in front of her family that he didn’t want her.

      “When does your family start arriving?”

      “Tomorrow.”

      Faron took off his hat, forked his fingers through his hair and tugged the hat back on again. “You could have given me a little more warning.”

      “Why? There’s nothing you need to do. Madelyn and Rue and I will take care of everything.”

      If he’d had more warning maybe he could have figured out a reason to be gone from the ranch during their visit. If he left now it would look like he was running. Faron wasn’t the kind of man to run from trouble. Not that he necessarily sought it out, either. But he could see trouble coming.

      Still, some good might come of this visit. He would have a chance to ask Belinda’s family some of the questions she had refused to answer. “I’m looking forward to meeting your sisters.”

      Belinda smiled. “It’ll be hard not to trip over them, since they’ll all be staying at the house.”

      By sundown the next day Faron realized that Belinda hadn’t been exaggerating. Her three sisters, Dori, Tillie and Fiona, had all arrived. Dori had come with her husband, Bill, and three daughters under seven years of age. Tillie was also married. She and her husband, Sam, had two boys, five and nine. Fiona was still single, but she had brought her Abyssinian cat, Tutankhamen, Tut for short.

      There were trucks on the floor, dolls on the chairs and screaming children chasing each other and the cat up and down the stairs. When they all sat down to dinner it was chaos.

      It reminded Faron of home. Of the days when his mother had still been alive, and he and his brothers had argued at the table while their parents refereed. He felt his stomach twist when he realized that the picture he remembered hadn’t been exactly as it had seemed.

      Had his father’s eyes been sad as they met his mother’s across the table? Had there been any hesitancy in the way his father had lifted him up into his arms and held him in his lap? He couldn’t remember.

      Whatever his father had felt about raising another man’s child hadn’t been evident in the way Faron had been treated. He had felt loved, had known he was loved. By a woman who had been faithless to his father in conceiving him. By a man who had overlooked the foreign blood that ran in his veins.

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