Nighthawk's Child

by Linda Turner

  “Of course,” she said. “I’m surprised that she’s even here. As far as I know, she’s never seen a doctor in her life. She always went to Grandmother Gray Eagle whenever she was sick.”

  But Grandmother Gray Eagle was dead now, and Sharon had to be scared to death. Traditional modern medicine was as foreign and frightening to her as X rays would have been to the pioneers. “Let me get some things from my office and I’ll be right back,” she promised Gavin, and hurried away.

  When she returned a few minutes later with an ancient prescription stick that had belonged to Grandmother Gray Eagle and several smooth, rounded rocks that had been used by tribal healers for generations to treat everything from impotency to upset stomachs to heart conditions, Gavin eyed the primitive items in disapproval. “In all likelihood, she’s either suffering from high blood pressure or low blood sugar or both. Nothing you’ve got there is going to help.”

  Not surprised by his reaction, she merely smiled. “There’s more than one way to skin a snake, Doctor. Watch and learn.” And stepping around him, she led the way to the examining room where Sharon Elkhorn waited stoically.

  Greeting the older woman with the respect that the elders of the tribe deserved, Summer said softly, “I’m honored that you have come to me at this time when you are not well. You need have no fear. Grandmother Gray Eagle taught me well the healing ways of our people. I have brought her prescription stick and sacred stones and want only to help you.”

  Summer spoke straight from the heart, but for a moment she thought the other woman was going to flatly reject her. Through old, wary eyes that had seen far too much of life, she studied her skeptically, not sure if she wanted to trust her any more than she had Gavin.

  Something in Summer’s sure, steady gaze, however, must have reassured her. With a nearly soundless sigh, she relaxed ever so slightly and unbent enough to admit stiffly, “My daughter is worried about me. My head is old and tired and swims when I move too fast. I tried to explain that I just did too much, but she would not listen and insisted that I come here. It is not where I wish to be.”

  That much was obvious, but Summer didn’t take offense. “I understand, but there is no reason to be afraid. These will help.” Sitting beside her, she gave her the stones and softly began an ancient healing chant she had learned as a child.

  The old words in their native tongue were as familiar to Sharon Elkhorn as the prayers of the rosary beads were to a Catholic, and closing her eyes, she quietly began to chant to herself as she worked the stones in her palm. And just that easily, her fear lessened.

  Pleased, Summer would have liked to have slipped the blood pressure cuff around her arm right then and taken her blood pressure without giving her the chance to refuse. But that would have completely destroyed the trust she’d just earned. So instead she said quietly, “I’m just going to slip a cuff around your arm and check your blood pressure. Don’t be alarmed when it tightens. It won’t hurt you.”

  Her eyes still closed as she softly chanted, Sharon never indicated by so much as a flicker of an eyelash that she heard her, but Summer knew she had. Encouraged, she carefully wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her upper arm and had to smile when Sharon’s chanting increased slightly in volume. She didn’t, however, stop or open her eyes and Summer took that as a sign to continue.

  She wasn’t surprised that her blood pressure was elevated, but she waited a few minutes more, letting Sharon softly chant, and this time, when Summer took a second reading, the numbers were better, though still higher than she would have liked.

  Carefully putting the blood pressure cuff away and removing her stethoscope from her ears, she waited until the older woman stopped chanting and opened her eyes before she said softly, “Your blood pressure is up, which isn’t good, but there are several things I’d like you to do to improve your condition. First I want you to use the stones every day—”

  She immediately objected, “But these are yours—”

  “They were Grandmother Gray Eagle’s before they were mine,” she cut in mildly, smiling. “She would have wanted you to have them. And I want you to take these,” she added, pressing a prescription bottle of blood pressure pills into her hand and closing her fingers around them. “You have trusted me so far—trust me with this. Grandmother Gray Eagle, if she were here, would tell you that just because my way of healing is not always the old way, that doesn’t mean it’s a bad way. I would never do anything to harm you.”

  There was no doubting her sincerity—or the fact that much more than Sharon’s health was on the line. As a tribal elder, the old woman had an influence that reached far and wide on the reservation. If she accepted traditional medicine as well as the ancient healing methods of their people, others who had yet to accept Summer would do the same.

  For what seemed like an eternity, Sharon didn’t so much as blink, let alone speak the words that Summer longed to hear. Then, just when Summer was sure she was going to reject her help, she closed her fingers around the prescription bottle and rose to her feet. “You must tell my daughter how I am to take these. She will worry if you don’t.”

  If Gavin hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it. He didn’t know Sharon Elkhorn personally, but in spite of the fact that he had little involvement socially with anyone on the reservation, even he knew just how tightly she and the other old women of the tribe clung to the traditions of the past. If he’d been a betting man, he would have sworn that no one, not even Summer, would ever convince her to take the white man’s medicine. That was obviously a bet he would have lost.

  He couldn’t help but be impressed. He’d known Summer was a gifted doctor, but he’d never realized before just how well she related to people. Granted, her methods weren’t exactly orthodox, but was chanting so very different from meditation? The end result was that she’d convinced Sharon to meditate on a daily basis and accept a prescription for her high blood pressure, and that was all that was important.

  The rest of the morning flew by after that, and when his shift was up, Gavin didn’t know where the time had gone. When he went over the number of patients he’d seen, he was shocked. And exhilarated. He’d forgotten what it was like to practice down-in-the-trenches medicine. If the morning was an example of an average day at the clinic, he was going to enjoy his work there far more than he’d expected to.

  Given the chance, in fact, he would have stayed and helped Summer with the afternoon shift. In spite of the number of patients that they’d both seen that morning, the waiting room was still packed. And Summer would have to see every one of those patients before she left at the end of the day.

  Frowning as he watched her hastily wolf down the sandwich that was all she would have time to eat for lunch, he said, “Maybe I should stay another couple of hours. You can’t handle all this alone.”

  Summer bit back a smile at that and didn’t point out the obvious—that she’d been doing just that for months without any help whatsoever. She was just glad he finally realized how desperate his own people were for medical care right there on the reservation. Unfortunately, he’d done all he could for the day. Alyssa was waiting for him to pick her up at Lettie’s.

  “I’ll get by,” she assured him. “I’m used to it. And Alyssa needs you. It’s been a while since she stayed with Lettie and she’s probably wondering where you are.”

  She was right, and they both knew it. Still, he hesitated, clearly not happy with the situation but unable to come up with a different solution. “All right,” he said finally. “But you can’t work a full shift at the hospital every morning, then handle this kind of load every other afternoon here at the clinic without driving yourself into the ground. We’re going to have to make some kind of adjustment in your schedule.”

  If circumstances had been different and there’d been nothing but friendship between them, Summer would have been the first to agree with him. But she needed something, anything, to distract her from the fact that she was falling in l
ove with him, and right now, the only thing that could do that was work. The more, the better. If she could work herself into exhaustion, maybe then when she crawled into bed beside him at night, she’d be so tired that she’d immediately fall asleep before she could even think of turning into his arms.

  “We’ll see,” she said, and knew she would do nothing of the kind. Not if she intended to leave their marriage at the end of a year with her heart still in one piece.

  They fell into a routine after that that worked surprisingly well. Their days were full and busy, and although Summer and Gavin usually only saw each other in passing, they had much more time for Alyssa. Except for the mornings, which she spent at Lettie’s, she was at home with either her father or Summer.

  And the baby loved it. She adjusted quickly to her new home and to the two adults who occupied it with her. She already knew and loved Gavin, of course, but she was a sweet child with an affectionate disposition and from that first night, when she’d turned to Summer for comfort, she’d accepted her. Secure in her world and the love she received from two adoring parents, Alyssa thrived.

  With every passing day Summer found herself more and more drawn to not only the father but the child. And she didn’t know what to do about it. When she’d proposed to Gavin, she hadn’t anticipated that her emotions would become involved. Oh, she’d expected to develop a fondness for the baby—she’d always liked kids—but what she felt for Alyssa was becoming much more than fondness. It was maternal love, and that terrified her.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen! But Alyssa was so cute and funny and lovable. And when she snuggled up against her, popped that little thumb into her mouth, and fell asleep, Summer’s heart just melted. How could she not love her?

  And then there was Gavin. She’d thought she’d known him, thought she’d known exactly what living and working with him would be like. He would grudgingly put in his time at the clinic because he’d given his word, tolerate her presence in his life and home, and keep an emotional distance from her at all times so that at the end of their year together, they could go their separate ways and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

  That was the Gavin Nighthawk that she’d have sworn she married, but the man she found herself sharing her life with was nothing like that. He didn’t just show up at the clinic every morning and go through the motions as some men might have. Instead he threw himself into the work with an enthusiasm that surprised her and got as involved as she did with the patients.

  As for keeping an emotional distance and just tolerating her presence in his life, that never happened. At night, when they were both home with the baby, they were just like any other married couple. They worked together to get dinner on the table, discussed their day as they sat down as a family to eat, then bathed Alyssa, put her to bed, and did all the little chores that had to be done before they were finally able to relax for the rest of the evening.

  And no one knew better than Summer just how seductive those normal, everyday routines were. All too easily, she found herself falling into the trap that the lie they were living was real. They were raising a child together, working together at the clinic toward the same end, and that created an intimacy between the two of them that had nothing to do with sex.

  When she realized that she was starting to think of Gavin as her husband and Alyssa as her daughter, panic nearly sent her running for the hills. She had to get out—now!—while she still could, before she completely lost her heart. She’d talk to Gavin, come up with some excuse—

  But even as she tried to think of a logical reason for going back on her word, she knew she couldn’t. The agreement she’d made with Gavin no longer affected just the two of them. Alyssa would be hurt, and so would all the patients who depended on the clinic for medical care.

  She was well and truly stuck in a trap of her own making and there was nothing she could do about it—except find a way to somehow lessen the intimacy of their evenings at home as much as possible. So Friday night, after Gavin had worked at the clinic a week, she decided it was time for a night out. Dressed in black jeans and a red cowl-necked sweater, she had Alyssa’s diaper bag packed and the baby dressed in a green corduroy jumper, white tights and the cutest little dress shoes she’d ever seen when Gavin walked through the front door after work.

  Surprised, he took one look at the two of them and lifted a dark brow. “What’s going on?”

  “I thought we’d go out to dinner to celebrate your first week at the clinic,” she said brightly. “Nothing fancy,” she added quickly when she noticed how tired he looked. “Just the Hip Hop. It’s Friday night and that means catfish. And Alyssa told me she’d just love macaroni and cheese. And it’s usually so loud there that no one’s going to complain if she gets a little vocal. But if you’re too tired—”

  “No, the Hip Hop sounds great,” he assured her. It had been a busy week and he was beat. All he really wanted to do was to order a pizza for supper, play with Alyssa, and fall asleep later on the couch in front of the TV. But Summer’s week had been as hectic as his—adjusting to living with a baby when she’d never been around one couldn’t have been easy for her—and he couldn’t really blame her for wanting a night out.

  “Let me change into something a little more comfortable, and we can go.”

  He hurried up to their room, only to return less than five minutes later in jeans and a black-and-white sweater. Sweeping up Alyssa, who giggled in delight, he said, “Okay, ladies, let’s get this show on the road. I’m starving!”

  It was date night, and not surprisingly, the Hip Hop was doing a booming business. Every parking space in the café’s lot was taken, and people were lined up three deep just inside the front door, waiting for a table.

  Summer took one look at the crowd and groaned. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.”

  “It’s Friday night,” Gavin reminded her. “Any other place is going to be just as crowded, unless you want fast food, and I’m not really in the mood for that.”

  Summer wasn’t, either, but she wasn’t sure how Alyssa would tolerate the wait. When she got hungry, she didn’t hesitate to let the whole world know it. “We’ll see how it goes. I brought some crackers in case she gets fussy, but that may not satisfy her.”

  Alyssa, however, hadn’t been with anyone but one of them or Lettie for an entire week, so she was thrilled to be around other people, especially when she spied several children in the crowd. Grinning at a six-year-old who played peekaboo with her, she was perfectly content to wait with the grown-ups.

  Chuckling at Alyssa’s shy reaction to the little girl who played with her, Summer hardly noticed the gossip swirling about the café until the woman standing directly in front of her said to her companion, “I still can’t believe Jordan Baxter’s going to let Garrett Kincaid buy the Kincaid place. He’s been bragging for over a year now that there was no way in hell he was letting the Kincaids have his inheritance, then all of a sudden, he just drops the whole suit. It makes no sense.”

  “Of course it does,” her friend retorted. “The man’s in love with Meg Reilly, and that little boy of hers is Garrett’s grandson. If Jordan wants to adopt the boy when they get married, he’d better make peace.”

  “You mean, you think Garrett would try to stop the adoption?”

  “Of course not!” she retorted. “The old man’s not like that. He wants Meg to be happy. Why else do you think he’s throwing them a wedding at the ranch and inviting the whole town? Can you imagine? It’s going to cost him a fortune!”

  “You’re going, aren’t you?” her friend asked eagerly. “It’s going to be the biggest wedding this town’s ever seen. Everybody’s going to be there. Damn, I’ve got to get a dress. Everyone’s seen my old one.”

  That started a discussion about what to wear, but Summer hardly heard them. Ever since her uncle Garrett had discovered that his only son, Larry, had fathered seven illegitimate sons over the course of his lifetime before he died, Garrett had been trying to bu
y the Kincaid ranch as a legacy for his grandsons. He’d felt as if he’d failed Larry and had wanted to buy the ranch for his grandsons as a way to make up for Larry’s indifference as a father. Until today, however, Jordan Baxter had thwarted him at every turn.

  Glancing up at Gavin, she said quietly, “Did you hear that?”

  He nodded. “That explains why half the town’s here tonight. The gossips are eating up the latest news with a spoon.”

  It was always that way whenever a story broke, and after having been the brunt of so much talk himself, Gavin usually hated it. But in this particular instance, he was glad to hear that the old feud between the Baxters and Kincaids appeared to have ended—at least for now. If anyone deserved a break, it was Garrett Kincaid.

  When no one else in town but Summer had believed in Gavin’s innocence, she’d gone to her uncle and asked for his help. To this day, Gavin was still amazed that the old man had come to his rescue. The evidence against him had been damning, and everyone else in town had been ready to string him up from the nearest tree. Garrett, however, hadn’t rushed to judgment. Instead he’d actually met with Gavin in his jail cell, believed his story, and hired Elizabeth Gardener to represent him. And for that, Gavin would always be grateful. They’d never know now if Elizabeth would have been able to clear his name, but that was really beside the point. Garrett hadn’t known him from Adam and he’d still gone out on a limb for him. Gavin owed him.

  The two women standing in front of them got a table, then it was their turn. Following Janie to the table at the back of the café, Gavin couldn’t help but be aware of the interested looks he and Summer and the baby drew. Anytime the three of them went anywhere together, the reaction was always the same. To the interested eyes of the townspeople, they seemed to be the all-American family that had it all.

  So much for appearances, he thought cynically as Summer held the high chair while he settled the baby into it. They were living a lie, pretending to be something that they weren’t, and it was so damn easy. That was what threw him the most. He’d expected their arrangement to be awkward. He wasn’t used to sharing his life—or his home—with anyone, and he’d thought he’d miss his solitude. But when he walked through his front door after a long, hard day at the clinic, he felt as if he was truly, finally coming home.