Her Sheriff Bodyguard. Lynna Banning

she could understand why.

      Hawk Rivera rarely smiled, and his disturbing green eyes missed nothing. He had even noticed her choking on the whiskey he’d brought last night and that she did not finish her stew an hour ago.

      His skin was tanned to a shade darker than even the stage driver’s. Perhaps Rivera was part Mexican? But his given name was Anderson—not a Mexican name. Hawk could be an Indian nickname, a spirit name she’d heard it termed. Yes, that was it. He was like a hawk, predatory and no doubt lethal when crossed.

      His voice, however, had no hint of an accent, Mexican or Indian. Though his words were blunt, they were carefully chosen and always to the point. Had he had some schooling, then? Also she couldn’t help wondering why he had left Texas.

      A shout from the driver jolted her to attention. The coach slowed, then swerved hard to the right. Fernanda jerked awake. “What is happening?”

      * * *

      Hawk spotted something on the road ahead and yelled at Jingo. A tree lay across the trail, fresh cut it looked like.