Lone Wolf. Sheri WhiteFeather

      

      CLUB TIMES

      For Members’ Eyes Only

      Like father, like son…

      I put my foot in it this time, members, but I’m going to plead Temporary Hardware Store Stupidity. Okay, so Hawk Wainwright and I smashed into each other when we were both examining screws and washers (no, I didn’t do it on purpose). Can you blame me for getting riled when he growled at me? As if I should do ballet while picking out a washer or a screw! I said, “You are just as crabby as your father.” His death glare catapulted me into another stratosphere and I left the hardware store empty-handed. Oops.

      To cheer myself up, I went over to Mrs. McKenzie’s dress shop, because if you stand near the fitting rooms, you can hear the latest water-cooler dirt from the cream of Mission Creek society. Kate Wainwright and Rose Wainwright-Carson whispered about the fact that interior designer Jenny Taylor has a past. (Those quiet ones are always hiding something.) And poor Jenny has Hawk Wainwright as her next-door neighbor. I have to warn her never to borrow a cup of sugar from him!

      But here at the Lone Star Country Club, we embrace all—the loud ones (you know who you are), the quiet, the brave, the spineless and even the scary ones of Mission Creek. We are a family.

      So bring it on at the Lone Star Country Club. The sooner, the better!

      About the Author

      SHERI WHITEFEATHER

      lives in Southern California and enjoys ethnic dining, summer powwows and visiting art galleries and vintage clothing stores near the beach. Since her one true passion is writing, she is thrilled to be part of the LONE STAR COUNTRY CLUB series, where she had the pleasure of learning about a wondrous place called East Texas.

      Sheri is married to a Muscogee Creek silversmith. They have a son, a daughter and a trio of cats—domestic and wild. She loves to hear from readers. You may write to her at: P.O. Box 17146, Anaheim, California 92817.

      Lone Wolf

      Sheri WhiteFeather

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Welcome to the

      Where Texas society reigns supreme—and appearances are everything.

      Could a Native American rebel uncover the secrets hidden in his neighbor’s hardened heart?

      Hawk Wainwright: An outsider his entire life, Hawk was drawn to his mysterious neighbor whose quiet beauty was impossible to ignore. But this lone wolf would need to overcome his own past before he could plan a future with Jenny.

      Jenny Taylor: After an abusive marriage forced her to run away and start a new life, Jenny vowed she’d never fall for someone based simply on looks and lust. Now, though, an outsider seemingly with no hidden agenda has made Jenny feel passion once again…stirring her soul like no man ever has.

      The Mercados of Mission Creek: One of the most powerful families in Mission Creek has taken a special interest in the kidnapping of baby Lena. Is it possible that patriarch Johnny Mercado is involved in the abduction?

      To Margaret Marbury for offering a much-appreciated membership to the LONE STAR COUNTRY CLUB.

       To the other LSCC authors for their hard work and dedication.

       To my husband, Dru, for sharing the hawks in his life.

       To Kimberly Payne and her dog, Cheyenne, for inspiring the puppy in this book.

       And finally, because the nature of this story is too important to categorize as strictly fiction, I’m including the toll-free number of National Domestic Violence Hotline for anyone who should need it: 1-(800) 799-SAFE.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      One

      Hawk Wainwright walked out onto his front porch, then stopped when he saw her.

      The pretty woman next door.

      She knelt on the grass, planting flowers in her yard. Curious, he watched her.

      A soft breeze blew her hair across her face, shielding a delicate profile. She wore old jeans and a simple cotton blouse, but she managed to look ethereal. He suspected her eyes were blue, rivaling the color of the sky.

      But the angelic beauty seemed determined to keep to herself. She never spoke to him, never met his gaze or acknowledged him in any way.

      Not that Hawk expected special treatment. He wasn’t the friendliest person in the neighborhood. Nor were folks drawn to him. Since his youth, Hawk had been considered an outcast. Then again, he didn’t give a damn about socializing in Mission Creek. This town hadn’t been particularly kind to him, even if it had been home for as long as he could remember. He lived on the outskirts of Mission Creek, and for good reason.

      Hawk was the unwanted, illegitimate son of one of the richest men in the county. And being the Wainwright bastard had taught him how to live on the fringes of society, how to thumb his nose at his daddy and his half siblings. They meant nothing to Hawk. Nothing at all.

      Nothing but a childhood ache he’d long since outgrown. Standing six foot one with a set of broad shoulders and a pair of dark, unforgiving eyes, he was no longer a kid hoping his prominent, white daddy would notice him.

      Thirty-three-year-old Hawk Wainwright was an Apache, a man who trained horses, rescued injured raptors and asked Ysun, the Creator of the Universe, the Apache Life Giver, to guide him.

      And who was the pretty lady next door? he wondered, as he started down the porch steps to retrieve his mail. And why was she so shy? So cautious?

      Maybe she’d heard the gossip about him. Eight years ago, Hawk had dated a pampered, rich, breathtakingly beautiful white girl. But after they’d slept together, he’d discovered that she had no intention of introducing him to her family or bringing him into her social circle. She had, however, treated him like a prized Indian stud, whispering quite naughtily that her roommate wanted a turn with him.

      Stunned, Hawk hadn’t responded to the lewd offer. But just days later he’d approached both girls at a local bar. After kissing one and then the other, he’d quietly told both of them to go to hell. Naturally those hot, public kisses had culminated in a much-talked-about scandal.

      But he’d learned his lesson, and these days Hawk no longer felt the need to explore his Anglo side by dating white women. Instead, he avoided them.

      He glanced at his neighbor again. She was as fair-skinned as they came, but she still fascinated