Heart of the Falcon

by Francis Ray

  Chapter 11

  It was all Madelyn could do to keep a smile on her face as she turned back to the children. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that no one had noticed her reaction to Daniel’s leaving.

  She just hoped they didn’t all pounce on her at once. She couldn’t take that. Tears pricked her eyes. She was not going to cry. She was not.

  Not once, no matter how hurtful the offense, had she ever cried in public. Not when Kali Jefferson invited every girl in the sixth grade to her birthday party except Madelyn; not when her date at the senior prom left her to take another, more willing girl home; not when she was repeatedly treated like a nonentity at Sinclair.

  Not once. She was stronger than this. A tear formed, hovering on her lower eyelid.

  “Madelyn, I need your help setting up things on the back porch,” called Victoria.

  Madelyn glanced up, blinking rapidly to clear the tears away. Not once, because she’d always known her family was one hundred percent behind her. Not once, because she had been taught to let no obstacle stand in her way. She sniffed. But Lord, she had never hurt this deeply before.

  She sniffed again, her hands digging into the empty pockets of her sundress. Where was a tissue when she needed one?

  “Madelyn, come on. I’ll meet you on the back porch,” Victoria told her, then started for the house. Kane followed.

  Her heart sank. Interrogation time.

  After walking only a short distance with his wife, Kane kissed her on the cheek and went to stand by his brother. “Baby sis, you better hurry or I might decide to take care of things in my own way.”

  Madelyn took off. It was a subtle warning. She was being offered a reprieve. The interrogation—and she was sure that was what it was going to be—would come later.

  By the time Victoria reached the screened back door, Madelyn had it open for her. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, he still wants to talk with you,” Victoria said.

  “Matt, too.” Shannon Taggart walked up to them. “So do we smuggle you out the front door, or do you want Victoria and me to make the supreme sacrifice and find some other way to take our husbands’ minds off their big-brother routine?”

  Victoria’s hazel eyes narrowed mischievously. “Speak for yourself about sacrifice.”

  Madelyn laughed as the three of them entered the house. Her brothers’ wives were beautiful, loving, and unpretentiously wealthy women in their own right. Victoria owned a chain of six upscale lingerie boutiques called Lavender and Lace. Shannon had inherited her wealth, yet continued to work as a nurse practitioner on a voluntary basis in Jackson Falls where she and Matt lived.

  What endeared them to Madelyn was their unfailing love and devotion to their husbands. Husbands who loved them just as much. Her smile died. That was something she might never have.

  Shannon’s hand gently touched Madelyn’s. “Your business is your own, but for what it’s worth, some men aren’t easy to love or understand.”

  “Women, either,” Victoria added. “Kane didn’t give up on me even when another man would have walked away or shook me until my teeth rattled.”

  Madelyn looked at the two women. “What you’re saying is that you have to fight for what you want?”

  “If you can answer one question without hesitation,” Victoria said.

  “What?” Madelyn asked uneasily.

  “Can you imagine living your life and being happy without him?”

  No matter how much she wished otherwise, there was only one damning answer. “No.”

  “Then go after him with all you’ve got,” Shannon told her.

  “But … but what if I already tried, and it didn’t work?” Madelyn bit her lip.

  “Try again,” Victoria said softly. “Kane never gave up on me. He taught me how not to be afraid to trust in loving someone. I never want to think of what might have happened if, at a crucial point in our marriage, we both hadn’t put love above pride.”

  “Matt fought falling in love until the night he proposed,” Shannon said with a hint of pride. “I admit I went after him shamelessly.”

  Laughter erupted. The whole family had been shocked to hear of Matt’s engagement. His first marriage had been a disaster, and after swearing not to marry again, he had started going through women like water through a sieve.

  “What’s taking so long?” Grace Taggart inquired.

  “The children are getting restless,” Clair Benson added.

  “Coming, Mrs. Taggart, Grandmother,” Victoria said and rushed toward the kitchen, Shannon right behind her.

  Before Madelyn could make her escape, her mother had her by the arm. She swallowed.

  She had never been able to hide anything from her mother. She prayed today was the exception. “I’d better help.”

  “One more minute won’t hurt,” her mother said. “All I want to know is, was that talk your brothers had with Daniel necessary?”

  Swallowing again, Madelyn cut a glance at Victoria’s grandmother, Mrs. Benson, who appeared in no hurry to leave. As usual she was in lace and pearls even on a hot summer day. She was a sweet, no-nonsense lady.

  “You had only to look at him to know the answer to that question,” Clair Benson said. “He needs a haircut.”

  “He’s part Native American,” Madelyn said automatically.

  Clair regarded her thoughtfully. “My great-grandfather was a Buffalo soldier who fought the Indians.”

  Madelyn didn’t know what to make of that comment. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “In his diary he said he had never met a fiercer, more determined people. He said he thought they might be like the African tribes.” Clair looked at Grace. “I don’t know what was said in the barn, but it probably won’t do any good.” She opened the back door and went back outside.

  “Addie,” Grace said, her worry obvious in the reprisal of her daughter’s old name. “I will be forever thankful for Daniel helping with arrangements for your brother’s wedding, but I read the papers. His reputation with women is worse than Matt’s used to be.”

  “And look at Matt now.”

  “But it took him a long time to find Shannon,” her mother said, holding her daughter’s gaze.

  “Daniel and I are just friends,” Madelyn said. The relief on her mother’s face was instantaneous. “We better go help in the kitchen.”

  Grace Taggart palmed her daughter’s cheeks. “I love you. If ever you need to talk, call. I’m not so old that I don’t remember how it was to be in love and impatient.”

  “I love you, Mama,” Madelyn said, wishing she had enough courage to tell her about her grandchild.

  * * *

  Daniel was in a foul mood. He was also as confused as hell. He had watched Madelyn laughing and giggling with the children, her skirt up over her slim legs, and had been caught off guard by a powerful surge of sexual hunger.

  It hadn’t mattered that her parents were there or her overprotective brothers or the dozen or so other adults, all he had wanted to do was drag her to him and to the nearest bed. Only he wasn’t sure if he would have made it that far.

  Lust had snuck up on him when he wasn’t looking. It had to be lust. Initially he had been aware of her free, laughing spirit and sense of fair play. It hadn’t been a matter of gender. If the girls would have been giving it to the boys, he didn’t doubt that she would have waded in for the underdog.

  She obviously loved children. She would make a wonderful mother. The sudden thought that he wouldn’t be there to be the father hit him like a fist while he was still trying to deal with the lust.

  The unexpected longing for her and the baby had sent him back to his rental car and to Meacham International Airport in Fort Worth faster than the lust. He was getting in way over his head.

  Looking out the window of his private jet as it made its way to Houston, his mood hadn’t changed. He had never run from anything in his life. And he had had plenty of opportunities.

  Most of the students in the predomina
tely Anglo-Saxon, prestigious private school in Boston hadn’t known what to think of a boy of visible mixed African-American and Native American heritage. Although there were racial mixtures and African-American students, he was the only one of his mixture, an oddity, accepted by some and made to feel an outcast by others.

  John Henry Falcon was unapologetically a Native American. He was more comfortable in jeans and a shirt than the suit and tie his wife and in-laws often demanded that he wear. His boots were run-down at the heel and were bought at the local Wal-Mart. No Italian loafers for him.

  He believed in the Master of Breath, The People, his family, hard work. From Daniel’s earliest memories, he recalled his father telling him stories of The People, of his tribe, the Muscogee Indians, called Creek by the white settlers because their settlement was near creeks. He never let Daniel forget his ancestors had been fearless warriors, brilliant tacticians, and daring leaders.

  Daniel had grown up proud of his uniqueness instead of bewildered by the difference. He was sensible enough to realize his outlook might have been different if his maternal grandparents hadn’t been wealthy or just as proud of their ancestors who had always been free.

  They had migrated from the West Indies to England to America. Intelligence, fortitude, and business savvy had increased the wealth of each generation of Everetts.

  His ancestors on both sides had a history of being displaced. His forefathers on his mother’s side learned early what rank and wealth and influence could do when Elizabeth I tried to expel blacks from England in 1596. The expulsion movement largely failed, but it served as an indelible reminder that the majority of Britons thought people with dark skin were inferior.

  In 1838 on the Trail of Tears, the Muscogee Indians suffered indignities and cruelties and numerous deaths. Then they were made to live on land that was foreign to them.

  His ancestors on both sides were thought by some to be inferior, lazy, shiftless. Those small-minded individuals never thought of the intelligence, the perseverance, the determination it took to survive despite constant and overt discrimination and deprivation in a harsh and hostile world.

  Both survived, passing down through generations their history through the spoken, chanted, or sung word. One branch of his ancestors had been more financially successful than the other, but both understood the problems inherent to people of color.

  His maternal grandparents might have been snobbish in their own way, but they, like his parents, never let him forget money could get you only so far when the hue of your skin didn’t come from hours in the sun or a tanning salon. The lesson was brought home one day when he went to the store with his mother, and they couldn’t get anyone to wait on them.

  Daniel hadn’t understood until his mother gave him a smile and asked to speak to the manager. As soon as the man arrived and learned who she was, he had been all apologetic and so were the saleswomen. They left the store without buying anything.

  It was only after they arrived home that he noticed his mother hadn’t been dressed up the way she usually was. At dinner that night she casually mentioned the incident to his grandfather and suggested they close out the account. They never returned. His lessons had begun. He’d never forgotten.

  He was a proud, almost belligerent, kid—big for his age and unwilling to take mess from anyone. If he hadn’t had a conscientious teacher in kindergarten, one who ruled the classroom and the playground with rigid standards of fair play—no matter how much money the student’s family had—he might have been expelled, or worse labeled “slow” and delegated to a backseat. Instead righteousness, truth, and honor prevailed as the only criteria for justice, in Mr. Kennedy’s opinion.

  By not being judged, Daniel had learned not to judge. He had no preconceived notions on meeting someone. The person’s actions determined how they would be treated from that point on.

  Some of his closest friends were still his kindergarten classmates. Since he admired intelligence, his friends were always at the top of the class. Interestingly, as the years progressed, they were the school leaders in academics and extracurricular activities.

  Those same friends had grown up to be some of the most influential men in the country: men of integrity and long memory. Each year they got together for a think-tank off the Caribbean, where one of his former classmates owned an island.

  None of them would believe that Daniel Falcon had run from a woman he could pick up with one hand. The problem was, after he picked her up, he didn’t want to let her go.

  Daniel had never in the past had any difficulty in figuring out when someone was trying to put something over on him. His logical mind was telling him he hadn’t slipped up. Yet logic was also telling him there was always a tiny risk factor in forming any conclusion dealing with people and emotions.

  He had based his decision on his previous experiences with women. But when he looked at Madelyn, as he had that afternoon, he saw an open, caring woman. Not the kind of woman who would name someone else as the father of her child.

  That meant he had to reevaluate everything. It wasn’t going to be easy—in fact, it was going to be the most difficult, the most gut-wrenching thing he had ever done. Because if he had made a mistake, the possible consequences were just as disturbing.

  * * *

  Something isn’t right, and I am going to find out what it is, Bill Taggart thought.

  Ever since Daniel Falcon had shown up unexpectedly at the twins’ birthday party, people had been acting funny. First it was Madelyn, then his sons, now his wife. Grace bothered him most of all.

  After forty-two years of marriage, a man learned to pick up on things if he wanted to stay happy. Grace hadn’t asked for her camera back since she came to get everyone for cake and ice cream, nor had she gotten on to him for not snapping photos. She had more pictures of her grandchildren than all of her children put together—doted on the little rascals so much she had to stop going through the children’s department to resist buying them something.

  Now all her attention was for her daughter. She didn’t seem to be able to pass without touching her head, her arm. The trouble was, their daughter was looking sadder and sadder.

  His children might be grown, but a man never stopped being a parent until he drew his last breath. Something was wrong with his Kitten, and he was going to find out what it was.

  “Kane, Matt—grab some trash bags, and we’ll start cleaning up outside.”

  Bill’s determination grew when he saw Madelyn tense and send a worried glance toward her brothers. What made him feel a little better was the slight nod of approval from his wife.

  It had bothered him to think Kitten had a problem, and his wife hadn’t come to him. He should have known better. They always talked things over. Grace wasn’t the secretive type. His sons, on the other hand, could put a rock to shame on giving out information.

  Outside he began helping his sons pull the pink and blue crepe paper from the lower branches of the oak tree. “Is Kitten in trouble or heading that way?”

  “Daddy, I’m not sure it’s either,” Kane said. His extra three inches made it easier to remove the paper and not damage the branches. He paused a second, then faced his father. “I think she may be interested in Daniel Falcon, only I’m not sure how far it’s gone or if it’s going anyplace.”

  “So that’s what the trip to the barn was about?” Bill asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Matt confirmed, a frown on his handsome face. “Only he isn’t as easily intimidated as the others.”

  “He’s not intimidated at all,” Kane reminded him.

  “Didn’t I read he’s in Houston now?” Bill asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Kane said, his sigh long and telling.

  Bill stared into the distance for a long time before saying, “All you can do is try your best to raise your kids to know right from wrong, because one day you have to let ’em go on their own.” His gaze turned to his eldest. “You were the easiest”—then to Matt—“You were always respectful, but you wa
nted to push everything to the limits.”

  Bill lowered his voice and continued. “You worry more about girls, but Kitten has never given your mother and me a moment of worry. I know some of that is because of you two, and I always loved you more because I didn’t have to ask you to watch after her.

  “Her mother is worried now. So are you two. But all of us jumping on her is not going to help, either.” He held up his hand when Matt started to say something. “Sometimes talking makes things worse instead of better. The day Kane stopped talking and hauled you to Wade’s ranch was the day you started to heal.”

  Bill’s hand clasped his second child on his wide shoulder. “I hurt for you, but there was nothing I could do but be there for you. I think that’s what we have to do now. Just be there for your sister.”

  “Daniel is my friend, but he can be a coldhearted SOB if he wants to,” Kane warned.

  Bill looked at his middle child. “So could your brother before Shannon. I want you two to leave Kitten alone.”

  “And if he hurts her?” Matt asked.

  “Then you can have him, after I’m finished,” the elder Taggart said.

  * * *

  Gradually Madelyn became aware she wasn’t the center of attention anymore. The focus had shifted to Kane Jr. and Chandler. The two show-offs were demonstrating their riding skills.

  Victoria, who by her own admission was afraid of horses until she married Kane, was beaming as her children rode their Shetland ponies around the corral. Their father stood nearby, but no one doubted that if he had the slightest doubt of the children’s abilities, he wouldn’t have given them the ponies for their surprise birthday presents.

  “Now we can go riding with you all the time, Daddy,” Chandler said.

  “Did you get Mama a horse so she can ride by herself?” Kane Jr. asked. “Shadow Walker must be tired of carrying both of you all the time.”

  Dropping her head, Victoria groaned. Matt whooped. Kane shot him a threatening look. “Shannon, you better get an ice pack ready”