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Free Love Story by Sharen Taylor Griffin: Bride of Bride of Inglenook, Page 1
A Western Romance Story
“You what!” Hawk thundered from the end of the table where he sat, the scrumptious last supper that had been prepared for his half-brother’s departure now heavily dented by their vivacious appetites.
Herbie wriggled in the ladder-back chair, his face looking as uncomfortable as he currently felt. The definition of thunder? Hawk’s face.
In retrospect, it had been wise to unload his announcement until after the meal had ended. Thankfully, he had possessed enough foresight to do such. Particularly since his newly wedded wife couldn’t cook; however, she did other things quite nicely.
It took Herbie a few precious moments to decide how to respond. With Hawk, one had to exercise caution in this area. The cowboy had the temper akin to a keg of dynamite – and it was plied with a very short fuse.
“Brother of mine, let’s not make a mountain out of a-a gopher hole,” he managed and as he swallowed the lump that had suddenly seized his throat, a loud ‘gulp’ echoed throughout the large dining area.
Inglenook was massive; why his brother had not taken a wife was quite perplexing. Perhaps he was jealous of Herbie’s newly-found good fortune? And in more ways than one.
The sudden silence was deafening, Herbie aware of his own rapid heartbeat, thumping loudly in his ears as he considered how to approach the next phase.
“I’m waiting,” Hawk drawled, his face the things that armor was crafted from.
Herbie resisted the temptation to nibble at his nails. That wouldn’t do at all; it was one of the many habits that Hawk had broken him of amid his three month stay at Inglenook.
This habit in particular had been deemed by his hard-nosed brother as one laced with femininity. And there was nothing feminine about Hawk, he went on to consider as he dusted a quick glance over his brother’s impatient looking face. Still thunderous, too.
Hawk had quickly transformed him from boy to man. And Herbie supposed it was time – actually, past time. Indeed, he was twenty-two. He had ridden the coattail of his beloved mother for more years than he’d been entitled to; but the life of leisure had been more accommodating than the life of a cowboy and hard-working rancher like his father; a father whom both he and Hawk shared bloodlines with.
While leading a rather pampered life had its advantages, with daddy growing old, he had wanted to ensure that Herbie could assume the reins of the thriving horse ranch. Thus the reason why he’d been shuffled two hundred miles west to Inglenook, Hawk’s thriving monstrosity of a ranch.