In the enclosed carriage, Hawk leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply with relief as the driver managed to pull away from the crowd. “I didn’t even sign any final papers,” he told Jeremy.
“I’m sure the judge understands. It will all be there for you later. Some of the other men in your law firm will see to that, I’m sure. Let’s just go home and celebrate.” He put out his hand. “You’re a hell of a lawyer, Hawk Monroe. Your father couldn’t have more reason to be proud of his son. I’d love to see the look on his face when he hears about this.”
Hawk grinned, but his eyes teared. “So would I.”
Twenty-three
Arianne walked into the parlor to greet Hawk, holding out her hands to take hold of his. “I’m afraid I didn’t show enough gratitude yesterday,” she told him. “I was so shocked and overwhelmed, and all those people … I just wanted to get out of there.”
Hawk took her hands, squeezing them gently. “I know. So did I. I went back this morning and took care of the paperwork. I’ve brought a few things for you to sign, and I need to know where you want the money deposited.” She appeared radiant, relieved, free of doubt. Now she could survive on her own.
And she was beautiful in her burgundy-and-white-striped taffeta day dress, which she filled out with her nicely curved shape. Her light hair was drawn up at the sides, and her eyes seemed bluer, perhaps with happiness. What bothered Hawk was the strange, almost apologetic look that came into them when he asked where to deposit the money the city owed her. Again he felt the change in her attitude toward him, a very subtle change that had continued for several months. She pulled her hands away.
“Sit down, Hawk. We need to talk.”
He laid his hat and briefcase on a coffee table and settled himself on a rose-colored velvet loveseat, putting an arm across the back of it and facing her as she sat down beside him. He noticed her cheeks were slightly crimson, and she suddenly looked ready to cry. “What is it, Arianne? You’ve seemed bothered by something for a long time now, something more than this lawsuit or even your husband’s death.”
She met his gaze. “We both know … what we feel is more than friendship, Hawk. Please stop me right now if I’m wrong so that I don’t make a fool of myself.”
He grinned. “I don’t need to stop you. I’ve been falling in love with you all these months.”
She closed her eyes and turned away as though in sudden pain. “It’s been the same for me, but I’ve been doing quite a bit of thinking.”
Hawk lost his smile. “Say it, Arianne.”
She sighed deeply, looking down at her lap and toying with one of the little embroidered flowers on the ruffled trim of the apron skirt. “I can’t begin to tell you what winning this settlement means to me. You risked your reputation as a lawyer on this case, and with your being part Indian, you had much more to prove than most. Well, you did it, and I’m happier for you than for me in many ways.” She met his eyes again. “I’ve sensed how you felt, and I’ve cared deeply for you since I was a young girl. Back then I would not have given a second thought to loving an Indian, even though my brother would have been against it. I still don’t really think there is anything wrong with it.”
Hawk began to feel some of the bitterness toward those who looked at him differently just because he was Indian. He’d managed to handle the hurt all through college, and in dealing with fellow attorneys when he came to Denver, most of whom had come to fully accept him. Still, he knew damn well none of his colleagues would allow their daughters to date him. There had been that Mexican girl, but nothing had come of it. After meeting Arianne again, he’d begun to change his mind about not being able to love and marry a white woman. “If you don’t personally think there is anything wrong with it, then why are you suddenly so hesitant?”
Her eyes began to tear more, and she had to look away again. “Through all of this, I’ve heard remarks, been asked crude questions. Other women have given me what they consider sage advice; that I shouldn’t turn to the first man who comes along because of my loneliness, that I must be very careful about my heart at this time, things like that.”
Hawk’s anger was rising. “And that you shouldn’t stoop so low as to marry an Indian?” He stood up. He had to get away from her. He was too tempted to grab her and have his way with her, make her understand it didn’t matter what other people thought.
“Essentially, yes,” she answered. She looked up at him. “Hawk, please understand. I love you.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “But I have to think of my little Joanna. I don’t want her to grow up being teased about her mother. And when I think of what happened to your stepmother in Cheyenne, all the stories I’ve heard about the things your own grandparents went through … When I hear some of the remarks people make, I just think it’s unfair of me to make my daughter suffer for the sake of my own happiness. And realizing the courage it takes to face the prejudice”—she looked away again—“I just don’t think I’m strong enough for it, Hawk. If Joanna should be hurt by all of it, I could never forgive myself, and I’d end up resenting you.” She shivered, crying quietly for a moment. “Then there is the problem of … our own children. They would have to go through all the trauma and confusion of wondering to which world they belong, who they should marry.” She looked at him again. “The same struggle you have always had! I don’t want that for my children. I’d like to think I am strong enough for all of that, but I have to admit that I’m not. That’s why I think it’s best if I just leave Denver, go back East. Before they died, my parents had some very good friends back in Ohio. I know they would help me settle there. I have enough money now …”
The look on his face stabbed through her. “My God, Hawk, you must know how grateful I am for what you’ve done! How hard this is for me!”
His jaw flexed in repressed anger. He simply had not expected such attitudes from her. “I stuck my neck out on this one, Arianne! I even received threats from the Klan! I don’t doubt a few of our fine city councilmen belong to the Klan! I could have been murdered over this mess, but I stayed with it, for you! Not just because you damn well deserved the money, but because I loved you!”
She covered her face and turned away. “They threatened me, too,” she answered. “They hinted how hard life could be for me and Joanna if it was discovered there was more than business between me and my attorney.” Her shoulders shook in a sob. “I can’t live with that kind of prejudice, Hawk. Your family is … so strong. Somehow they manage to rise above the talk and ignore it. And the white women they marry … have to be very strong and sure.” She took a handkerchief from the sash tied at her waist and blew her nose. “I’m just not like that. When I first saw you again, I thought how easy it would be to love you as a woman, rather than in the childish way I once did. But the woman in me is so much wiser than that young girl. And this woman has a daughter of her own to think about. I just …” She threw back her head and took a deep breath. “Now that the hearing is over and we’ve won, I’ve decided it’s best I leave Denver and we go on with our separate lives. I’m not just thinking about me, Hawk. I’m thinking about you. I love you enough to want what’s best for you. God knows you’ll have enough problems in life.”
She turned to face him, her cheeks streaked from salty tears. “You’ve told me many times your real dream is to go back to a reservation and act as an attorney for the Indians.” She shook her head. “I’ve lived on a reservation, Hawk, and I don’t want to go back to one. I don’t want Joanna to grow up on one; maybe fall in love with an Indian man and go through all the hurt and confusion of what to do about that love, as I have. I don’t want her to marry an Indian and have half-breed children. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t live that way. I want to live in places like this, where Joanna can meet men of her own color, where she’ll have the opportunity to blossom into an educated, refined young lady, where there are bricked streets and theaters and …”
She felt sickened by the hurt in his dark eyes, such handsome eyes,
such an utterly beautiful man. She wanted him so she could hardly stand it, but she had to face reality. “You know you should marry Indian, Hawk. You know it in your heart. Your own father would tell you to marry Indian. You told me yourself that was how you wanted it. Someday you’ll be working on a reservation. You’ll need a wife who understands and can put up with that life. Only an Indian woman can do that, and only an Indian woman can truly understand the heart of an Indian man. I can never do that, Hawk. I could never be a proper wife for you.” She stepped closer. “I am so sorry, Hawk! Don’t think this doesn’t pain me. It’s the”—more tears came—“hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”
She covered her face and wept again. Hawk just watched her, wanting to cry himself but too angry to do it. He had taken too much for granted. Many times while growing up he’d been subtly rejected because of his Indian blood, but never had it been done so openly by someone for whom he truly cared.
“The hardest things I’ve ever done were face up to how I feel about you,” he answered, “then risk my neck suing the City of Denver on your behalf.” He turned and picked up his hat. “The papers on the table there are self-explanatory. Read and sign them. I will have someone else from my firm come and pick them up. You fill out where you want the money deposited, somewhere in Ohio, I suppose. I hope you find new happiness there, Arianne, and a white man to love and support you.”
“Hawk, don’t be this way!” She wiped at tears, facing him again. “Tell me you understand why I’m doing this. It’s because I love you. I love you enough to give you up!”
More sobs came. He ached for her, but he did not want to admit it. It was easier right now to hate her. The reasons his own father once went on the warpath suddenly became very clear to him. He thought about his stepmother, a bullet hole in her forehead. No, he wouldn’t want that to happen to Arianne just because she’d loved an Indian. She was right, and he damn well knew it; he also damn well hated her for it. Nothing had changed from the days of the Indian wars. They were simply fought a different way now. White was still white. Indian was still Indian. His own power lay not in the lance or the tomahawk or the gun. It lay in his education, in knowing how to use the white man’s law to get what the Indian wanted. But there was one thing neither the law nor his education could get for him, and she stood right here in front of his eyes.
“I understand,” he told her. “I understand many things more clearly now. But you should have told me long ago, Arianne, when you first allowed others to make you so afraid. Did you think I would have dropped the lawsuit if you had revealed your decision? Did you fear you would lose your chance to win all that money?”
She stiffened. “I … I wasn’t sure.”
He closed his eyes, his hands clenching. “And so you led me on, waiting until it was all over, using me—”
“No, Hawk! Not in the way you think! I knew you had so much on your mind. I didn’t want to make it even more of a burden for you. And yes, I did want the money, but not for greed! I wanted it because I knew I had to leave Denver and start out on my own in someplace new. I’m doing this for you, Hawk, whether you want to believe that or not!”
He studied her, shaking his head. “I am sure you want to believe that, but it doesn’t matter. You’re right, in the long run. You aren’t strong enough to be married to a Monroe. And you wouldn’t make a good wife for me.” He put on his hat. “I hope you find happiness, Arianne.”
“I want the same for you. Please believe that. I’m just facing reality, Hawk. You have your own reality to face. You are an Indian, and that’s something to be proud of. Your father, your grandfather and your granduncle were warriors, part of a proud people. You yourself come from two Indian bloods, Cheyenne and Apache. That is your world. It is where you belong in your law career, and where you belong in a marriage. Your grandmother would understand what I am doing. She would say it’s a good decision. She knew she was strong enough to marry your grandfather; I know I am not strong enough to marry you. She faced her own reality, and I am facing mine, painful as it is. I never loved Edward as I loved you, and no man in my future will ever take your place in my heart.”
He drew in his breath, his lips set tight, an obvious emotional struggle going on behind his dark eyes. He only nodded. “Good-bye, Arianne.” He turned and left. Arianne ran to the door, watched through the glass as he disappeared into a windswept snowfall.
“Good-bye, Hawk Monroe,” she whispered. She stood there weeping for several minutes, then forced back the tears and marched to the parlor. It was a few minutes before she was able to read the papers he’d left behind. Hawk’s signature was on most of them, his handwriting flowing and beautiful. She signed them all, then came to the form signifying where the money should be sent. She would have to wire the family friends in Cleveland first, find out their banking recommendations. The money would then be sent, and she would pack her things as quickly as possible and get out of Denver, away from all the ugliness she’d known here, away from a situation in which her courage did not match her love.
“Thirty thousand dollars,” she muttered. For the rest of her life she would have Hawk Monroe to thank for this. She hated hurting him, but she also knew she would end up hurting him much worse later on if she married him for all the wrong reasons. She simply could not be the wife he needed, and she would not subject Joanna to life on a reservation or to ridicule for having an Indian stepfather. That was the hell of it—he was so handsome, so intelligent and educated … but so Indian.
Spring, 1899 …
Carson Temple opened one of the double front doors to his stone mansion to see his daughter standing before him and holding a little boy perhaps one year old. The child beamed a bright smile, dimples showing in his cheeks, his nearly black eyes sparkling innocently. Behind Georgeanne stood a tall, powerful-looking Zeke Brown, holding another boy who looked three or four years old. The child was as handsome as his father, his straight black hair hanging to his shoulders, his eyes lighter than the younger boy’s but still brown.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Temple asked, looking at Zeke.
Georgeanne marched inside, shoving her way past her father. “We came to see the house, decide what we’ll do with it. I never did like this place, Father. It’s much too big and drafty, never seemed homey to me. Perhaps I’ll make some kind of museum out of it—you know, have people come and see the kind of home the English used to come West and build, something like that. What do you think?”
Temple blinked in confusion, stiffening when Zeke also walked inside. “I think you’ve lost your mind. For one thing, if I still owned this place, I would never will it to you and this half-Indian, half-nigger man you married, but as it is, I don’t own it anymore, so what happens to it is up to the buyer, a Mr. Evan Dillon. He’s an attorney out of Denver, who apparently also has his hands in a gold mine. Wherever he got his money, it’s well spent. You’ve been out of my life so long now you probably didn’t even know I’ve sold the ranch and the one hundred thousand acres that go with it.”
Georgeanne faced him, amazed he could hate so deeply that he would not even be happy to see his own daughter after the years apart, that he would not be thrilled to see his grandchildren. “Well, hello to you, too, Father. It’s nice to know you’ve missed your only flesh and blood so much—that you’re excited to see your grandchildren, the only grandchildren you will ever have.”
The man glanced at the children again, then at Zeke, his eyes blazing. “I can’t tell if they look like niggers or Indians. Either way, I don’t want them in my house, especially not their father.”
Zeke slowly set four-year-old Peter on his feet. “I won’t have the term nigger used in my house.”
“What?” Temple looked at Georgeanne again, thinking reluctantly that she was more beautiful than ever. She was radiant in a stunning day dress of blue velvet with a matching cape. He watched her set the baby down on his rump. The child immediately turned onto his knees and began crawling away to go explor
ing. “Your mine run out already?” Temple asked Georgeanne. “You two here for a handout, maybe think you’re going to live with me? Well, you’re sadly mistaken. I never thought that gold you wrote and told me you’d discovered on that worthless piece of property up by Fort Collins would prove out. I see you blew what money you made building a castle for Zeke’s folks at the Monroe ranch. That was a stupid thing to do. People like that don’t appreciate fine things.”
Zeke started to speak up, but Georgeanne put up her hand, realizing how quick he could be to anger. She stepped closer to her father. “Oh, they appreciate fine things, all right, Father. That’s why they wanted some of this fine property of yours. And that’s why we bought it for them.” She threw out her hands and turned in a circle. “There’s enough land here for all the Monroes to live on if they wish; each one of them could still have plenty of acres. Of course Zeke’s uncle, Jeremy, he’d stay in Denver. He has quite a mansion there, you know. He’s a successful railroad man. And Zeke’s cousin, Hawk, he’s a very respected attorney in Denver, in spite of being three-quarters Indian. Zeke’s aunt, LeeAnn, also part Indian, is married to a successful newspaper man, and his uncle Jason is a doctor on an Indian reservation. Let’s see.” She put a finger to her chin.“Zeke’s aunt Ellen and her husband, they’re doing quite well in a supply business in Pueblo. Zeke’s cousin Iris is married to a man with a successful construction business, a Mexican, no less, Raphael Hidalgo. And Zeke himself …” She put her hands on her hips. “He hit the mother lode, you might say. Zeke has invested in Raphael’s construction business, in the Union Pacific and the Denver & Rio Grande railroads; he owns stock in a couple of banks in Denver and a huge ranch northeast of that city, where we live in a house as grand as this one. We’re planning a trip to Europe as soon as little Jason there is two—that’s your grandson’s name, by the way. The four-year-old is Peter.” She shrugged. “Well, anyway, we have so much money we can’t find enough ways to spend it, so we bought more land and built that house for Zeke’s folks, and then we decided that as fast as Colorado is growing, we might as well buy even more land. That’s where the real value will be someday, you know. Once the gold runs out, land is going to be man’s best commodity. Don’t you think so? That’s why we decided to buy the Temple Ranch and everything that goes with it. The ad you ran in the Denver newspapers was simply too inviting.”
Eagle’s Song Page 30
