Summer Hawk

by Peggy Webb

  “I will climb that tree. I used to do it all the time.”

  “When?”

  “When I was a child.”

  “And how long ago was that?”

  “Callie Red Cloud, are you asking my age?”

  “Yes.”

  Nobody could ever accuse Callie of being shy, he thought.

  And that was one of the things he loved most about her—her boldness.

  “Didn’t you do your research? I’m surprised you don’t already know.”

  “Does all this beating around the bush mean you’re not going to tell me?”

  “Age doesn’t matter to me. Does it to you?”

  “Yes.” She burst into laughter again. “I’m talking about tree climbing. I need to know your age so I’ll know if you’re too old to climb that tree.”

  “Did I say anything?”

  “No, but your face did. How old are you?”

  “Forty, and right now I feel every minute of it.”

  “Boost me up,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Give me a boost. I’m going up that tree.”

  He had visions of Callie tumbling down, and him trying to get her out of the mountains on a makeshift stretcher.

  “I can’t let you do that,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “What if you fall and break your neck?”

  “Are you always such a worrywart?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  “Does that mean you’re not going to sleep with me anymore?” Now it was his turn to tease.

  “Did we sleep?”

  “Not much. I’m still not too old for that.”

  “You’re certainly not.”

  The way she said it, soft and seductive, made his blood hot, and he knew that it would be a long while before either of them climbed the tree.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They had fish for supper. Callie caught two, Joseph caught one, and he built a campfire where they grilled their catch to perfection.

  He decided perfection was a good word to describe their day. When they finally got around to untangling her line, he’d given her a boost up the tree, and it hadn’t surprised him one bit that Callie climbed a tree the way she did everything else, with an ease that made all his fears seem foolish.

  Afterward they’d hiked high into the mountains, following the meandering stream to a point where it widened and deepened in the midst of towering evergreens. He hadn’t fished since he was a child, and he’d forgotten how relaxing it could be. They’d talked some, lighthearted banter mostly, and laughed a lot.

  He could almost believe they could stay on the White Mountains forever, isolated and insulated, the real world faded into nothingness.

  It was not to be so. Already he felt the pull of reality.

  “A meal fit for a king,” Callie said as she took the fish off the fire.

  “And his queen.” Joseph sniffed the good aroma. “Hmm, delicious.”

  “I have a surprise for you,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  He loved to hear her laugh. It was one of the things he would remember most. He knew exactly how it would be: he would be lying in bed with a breeze stirring the curtains at the casement window, and he would hear Callie’s laughter, suddenly and without warning.

  Even now, just thinking how it would be, he felt as if a giant hand were squeezing his chest. The reality of it would be almost unbearable.

  “Joseph?” Her voice brought him back to the present. “What happened? You vanished.”

  “Just thinking.”

  Almost as if she’d read his mind, she went still and watchful, and he could see pain deep in her eyes. She knew. Callie knew that he would be leaving.

  He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms and comfort her, but what was there to say? Words wouldn’t ease the hurt. He knew that.

  And she had made it clear she didn’t want goodbyes.

  Mentally he shrugged off the dark mood. “So, what is your wonderful surprise?”

  Callie seized the chance to lighten the mood. “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise. Wait right here.”

  She vanished inside the tent and returned with a bottle of wine.

  “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,” she said. “All we need is music. I wish you had brought your guitar.”

  “I have a little surprise of my own.” He went into the tent and got his harmonica out of his backpack. “Will this do?”

  “You never cease to amaze me. Is there no end to your talents?”

  “Not when I’m with you, Callie.”

  She kissed him softly on the lips, then leaned back, smiling.

  “Let’s eat first,” she said.

  She spread a blanket, and they sat close, feeding each other bites of fish. Then afterward she lay with her head in his lap while he played the harmonica, mostly blues.

  Callie’s favorite was an old Eubie Blake, Noble Sissle song called “Gee, I Wish I Had Someone to Rock Me in the Cradle of Love.”

  She made him play it twice, and while he played the stars came out one by one and a full moon hung overhead, so close it looked as if it were snagged in the branches of the tree.

  A perfect night for lovers. A perfect night for romance. A perfect night for saying goodbye.

  Joseph looked down at Callie’s beautiful face, and it was like no other to him, special in ways he couldn’t begin to describe. In the moonlight she looked like something he might have dreamed.

  In fact, this entire idyll in the mountains had a surreal quality, as if any moment he might awaken to find himself in his own bed with nothing more than a fleeting memory of a dream too wonderful to be true.

  “Star light, star bright,” Callie said. “When I was little I used to wish upon a star.”

  “Did all your wishes come true, Callie?”

  “All of them,” she whispered.

  Joseph laid down his harmonica, then picked her up and carried her inside their tent. She put her hands on her buttons, but he covered them with his own.

  “Let me,” he said.

  He unveiled her slowly, memorizing every line, every curve, every hollow. And then with hands and lips and tongue he adored her, trailing his fingertips down the length of her body from throat to hip, following that erotic path with lips and tongue.

  Her pulse beat wildly. He could feel it in the lovely indention at the base of neck. With his lips pressed against her throat, he inhaled her scent. Always, she smelled of flowers, some light perfume he’d seen her pat into soft, secret places in the early morning. Her skin had its own fragrance, too, an exotic, erotic musk that he would remember as long as he lived.

  Remember and yearn for.

  The soft mounds of her breasts claimed his attention, and he smothered his face between them, then he took one dusky rose tip deep into his mouth and suckled until Callie was moaning and writhing beneath him.

  Her response fanned the flames that already threatened to consume him, but he reined himself under control. Tonight was goodbye. He had to make it last a lifetime.

  She wove her hands in his hair, holding him tightly against her breasts, and he knew that he could spend an eternity there and never tire, never get enough.

  What would it be like to turn in his bed at night and find this woman at his side? What would it be like to watch his seed grow in her womb? What would it be like to see his son cradled in her arms suckling these same rosy nipples he found so exciting?

  It would be paradise. But it was lost to him.

  He had only this night.

  With lips and tongue he explored every inch of her, rediscovering every sensitive spot on her body. He was filled with wonder at the chemistry between them, at the way each touch brought an instant response from her, at the way her heart matched the runaway rhythm of his own.

  She urged him on with soft murmurings and sweet cries, and when at last he entered her, he knew that what they had together was n
ot merely passion, not merely desire: it was love.

  Wrapped tightly in her arms, Joseph rocked her gently while the moon traveled through the night sky. And before the stars began to fade, he took her on that final wild ride to sweet release.

  Slack and damp, she clung to him. And when she spoke his name, he had to lean close to hear.

  “Joseph,” she whispered. “Joseph, my love.”

  So full he couldn’t speak, he brushed her damp hair from her forehead, and by the time he thought how to reply she was fast asleep. He held her in his arms, watching her sleep until the first faint fingers of dawn crept across the sky, and then he dressed quietly, strapped on his backpack and rode away.

  “Don’t look back,” he told himself. “Don’t look back.” For he knew if he did, he could never leave.

  Even before she opened her eyes, Callie knew Joseph was gone. She’d known when they were making love that it would be their last time.

  She lay perfectly still, knowing if she moved she would shatter into a million pieces. All the things she might have said played through her mind. All the things she could have done differently haunted her.

  And yet…

  None of it would have made the least bit of difference. Fate brought them together, and fate tore them apart.

  “What is meant to be will be,” her grandmother used to tell her. “The universe has its own time.”

  Joseph’s essence was still in the tent. She could smell him, feel him, hear him, see him. She wrapped her arms around herself as if he were still there, as if she could feel his skin pressing against hers.

  Then she closed her eyes and replayed every touch, every kiss, every beautiful moment they had spent together since they first met. The tears were in her heart, in her throat, but she didn’t dare let them out. If she started crying she might never stop.

  “I will remember you, Joseph,” she whispered. “Always.”

  With that declaration, she got up and went outside to greet the dawn. His horse was gone, as she’d known it would be. The blanket they had spread beside the fire last night was still there, and on it was Joseph’s harmonica.

  Callie picked it up and pressed it to her lips.

  Joseph hadn’t meant to look back, but he couldn’t help himself. High on a ridge overlooking Callie’s camp he sat on his horse watching. When she came out from the tent it took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to race to her side.

  She was walking straight and tall, head up, chin out. Callie would be fine. He knew that. But the knowledge gave him no relief.

  When Callie picked up his harmonica and pressed it to her lips, loss sliced his heart. Rooted to the spot he watched her slip the harmonica in her pocket, then bridle her horse and ride in the direction of the lake.

  He watched until she disappeared into the forest.

  “Goodbye, my love,” he whispered, and then he turned his stallion to the path that led down the mountain.

  Callie was not one to wallow in pain. Never had been, never would be.

  When she got to the lake she shucked her clothes and swam until she was exhausted. Then she spread her blanket on the ground and lay with her eyes tightly shut and the sun beating down on her. It was her way of giving herself over to the universe and allowing nature to heal her.

  She didn’t know how long she lay there, one hour, two. It didn’t matter. At last a calmness and certainty settled over her, and she got up, broke camp and rode down the mountain.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  She dismounted and kissed him on the cheek. She looked thinner than when she’d left. Calder hugged her a long time. He pulled back to study her face. Close up he could see the strain around her eyes and lips.

  “Are you all right, Daughter?”

  “Yes.” Her chin came up. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “When I got up this morning, Thunderbolt was in his stall.”

  “Yes. Joseph has gone.”

  Her face told him nothing, but her eyes made him want to take Joseph by the nape and shake him. If Calder were younger he’d do it, too.

  “Does Mom know?” Callie said.

  “I haven’t told her. I figure you’ll let us know whatever we need to.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She kissed his cheek again. “I need to talk to you about something very important.”

  “Let me tell Betty.”

  Calder went back inside to tell the receptionist that he was leaving for the rest of the day.

  He took Callie’s arm, and together they walked back to the house. There was a gazebo out back, half hidden from the main house by a thick hedge of pink roses. When her father had built the thing twenty years ago he’d meant it to be a romantic hideaway for Ellen and himself, but over the years it had turned into the perfect place to take his children when they needed a heart-to-heart talk.

  The gazebo was bigger than most. It was filled with white wicker furniture with thick yellow cotton canvas cushions. Calder sat in the rocking chair.

  Callie didn’t sit down, but perched against the railing. Calder rocked and waited.

  “I’ve decided to leave the center and come home to practice with you,” she said.

  Just like that. For years Calder had longed to hear those words, and now that she’d said them he was surprised at how he felt: off balance, like a kite with a shortened tail, trying to catch a current in order to stay aloft.

  “Are you sure?” he said.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  No hesitation. That was good. And yet, there was the matter of Joseph Swift. He didn’t like to think that a daughter of his would tuck tail and run home because of a broken heart.

  “What changed your mind?” he said.

  “This has nothing to do with Joseph Swift.” Callie was always good at knowing what Calder was thinking. “I didn’t even discuss it with him.”

  “If you had told him, would it have made a difference?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” She jumped up and began to pace. “I didn’t want my job to be a factor with Joseph, Dad. Just as I didn’t want Ricky to be a factor.”

  “Who’s Ricky?”

  Callie sat cross-legged on the floor and told him all about the little boy who had survived the arbo virus and how she’d tried to adopt him.

  “I’m going back to Texas, Dad, to try again.”

  “When?”

  “After I talk to Ron. I have to fly back to Atlanta and resign face-to-face. I owe him that much.”

  Calder rocked and felt the wind on his face. His daughter was coming home and he could slide safely into old age knowing that his people would continue to have the best of medical care. He would ride into the mountain tomorrow in the ancient way and pay homage to four Beloved Things Above for this remarkable gift.

  The thought of having another grandchild pleased him, too. He reached for his daughter’s hand.

  “Today, you’ve made me very happy.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Calder took her hand. “Let’s go inside and tell your mother. Maybe this news will soften her up.”

  Ellen was in her sewing room bent over a christening dress she was making for Eric’s baby. When she saw Calder, she put her work in the sewing basket and faced him, arms akimbo.

  “I have a bone to pick with you, Calder Red Cloud.”

  “Better tell her now.” Calder said to Callie.

  “Tell me what?” Ellen asked.

  “About your new grandson.” Calder blurted.

  Ellen’s mouth dropped open. Calder looked triumphant, and Callie began to laugh. Leave it to her father to take charge.

  “I’ll leave you to explain that, Dad. I have some packing to do.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ron Messenger had a habit of polishing his glasses when he was disturbed. Callie sat in a stiff-backed chair and watched. He had taken the news of her leaving better than she had expected. But he was still rubbing his glasses, not looking at her, and she knew this meeting was not over. Not by a long shot.
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  “I’m not going to try to talk you out of this, Callie, because I know you didn’t make this decision lightly.”

  “Thank you, Ron.”

  “You know how much I hate to lose you. You’re the best virologist the center has.”

  “Your respect means a lot to me.”

  He smiled. “You know I’m buttering you up for a reason.”

  “I could feel it coming. What do you want, Ron? One more field trip? One more week? A pound of flesh?”

  “None of the above.” He slid his glasses on and peered at her over the tops. “Remember that conference we talked about six months ago?”

  “The one in D.C.?”

  “Yes. It’s in two weeks, and I’d like you to go with Peg to show her the ropes.”

  “Can’t you send Jim? He would be a wonderful delegate.” Jim had been at the center two years longer than Callie. His nickname was Old Reliable.

  “Didn’t Peg tell you? Jim’s leaving tomorrow for Arizona.”

  “Not another outbreak?”

  “No, just a little backup for the doctors out there. They’ve got an unidentified virus that’s causing some concern.”

  “What about you, Ron? You used to go to all these conferences.”

  “Can’t. Sandra’s family is coming to town. Do this one last thing for me, Callie. That’s all I ask.”

  Ron was not only her boss, he was her mentor and friend. How could Callie refuse?

  “Of course, I’ll do it, Ron.”

  He stood up and put his arm around her shoulder. “I’m going to miss you, Callie.”

  “I’ll miss you, too, Ron,” she said.

  He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be pulling for you. And if I need to fly down to Houston and kick some butt, I’ll do that, too.”

  That evening Callie sat on the redwood deck recounting the day’s events to Peg. Mike was in the kitchen working his magic on three big steaks he planned to grill.

  “I’m going back to Houston tomorrow to talk with Miss Rayborn again about Ricky.”

  “If she’s got a lick of sense she’ll let you have that kid. I can’t think of anybody who would make a better mother than you…except me, of course.” Peg poured herself another glass of tea, then leaned against the deck railing. “I’m envious, you know.”