Heart of the Hawk

by Sandra Marton

  And the Hawk, the man for whom nothing was impossible, shook his head in defeat.

  'No,' he whispered, 'nothing. Not a goddamned thing.'

  Rachel nodded, then she reached into the crib. 'He won't die,' she said quietly. 'I won't let him.'

  'You can't take him out of there, miss...'

  'Let her do as she likes,' growled David. 'My son is dying, dammit!'

  'Yes, sir, but...'

  'Go have some coffee. Or take a nap. Do something— do anything. Just get the hell out of here!'

  'Mr Griffin...'

  Emma took the woman's arm. 'Come along,' she said softly. 'We can both use a cup of tea.'

  The door whispered shut behind them. David watched in silence while Rachel lifted Jamie into her arms and held him against her breast. The child was limp and unresponsive.

  'Jamie?' Rachel whispered. She brushed her lips against the boy's forehead. 'Jamie, sweetheart, it's Mama.'

  'Damn it, Rachel!' David's whisper was hard as stone. 'How can you do that?'

  Her eyes flashed as they met his. 'How can i do what? I love Jamie with all my heart.'

  'Sure. That's why you abandoned him.'

  'Maybe you can explain why you took so long to tell me my baby was this ill,' she said in a furious whisper. 'Two days, you said... Why didn't you send for me? And never mind the crystal ball nonsense, David. We both know you can do anything you set your mind to. You found me once before—wasn't finding me this time as important?'

  His eyes narrowed. 'Put my son down,' he said with soft menace. 'Put him back in the crib and get the hell out of here.'

  'All right,' she said quickly, 'I .. .I'm sorry. I didn't mean...' She looked at the child in her arms and her eyes filled with tears. 'That was unfair of me,' she said softly. 'It wasn't your fault. I know I should have contacted you, left an address...'

  David's shoulders slumped wearily. 'It doesn't matter,' he said. 'The boy wanted you and you're here. That's all that counts.'

  'Yes,' she said softly, looking at the still child in her arms again and kissing his cheek, 'that's all that counts.' She bent carefully over the crib and placed Jamie in it. 'Thank you, David. I'm grateful.'

  'Damn you to hell, Rachel Copper!' Her name sounded like a curse on his lips. 'Don't waste your breath thanking me. I did this for Jamie, not for you. If it were up to me, you could have rotted in hell before you ever saw my son again. I would never have come for you if I weren't desperate. I thought maybe if you were here— if there was a chance Jamie knew it... if he...'

  His voice broke and he turned away from her. Rachel took a hesitant step towards him.

  'David, I understand. I know how you feel. I love him, too. I...'

  'Do you? Yeah, I suppose you do. Heft, I guess even you have some human feelings, Rachel. But don't try telling me you know how I feel.'

  'But I do,' she protested. 'I love Jamie...'

  His voice was thick with disgust. 'You love that sister you've enshrined,' he said. 'And you love yourself. Everybody else is a poor second.'

  'That's not true!'

  But he wasn't listening. He brushed past her and stalked to the crib, his face softening as he looked down at the child.

  'I love you, son,' he said, his lips grazing the boy's forehead. When he straightened, his eyes fastened on Rachel. 'Outside,' he said coldly, jerking his head towards the door.

  Rachel glanced into the crib. 'All right,' she murmured, 'just for a minute.'

  She followed David into the hallway and he turned towards her, his face impassive.

  'There won't be any more of what just went on in there,' he said without preliminary. 'It was stupid of me. For all I know, the boy can hear what's going on around him.'

  Rachel nodded. 'All right. We can talk out here, or downstairs if we...'

  'We don't have anything to talk about,' he said sharply. 'Our only common interest is the boy's welfare.' His eyes, fierce and golden, sought hers. 'That's right, isn't it?'

  'I... I... Yes,' she whispered, 'that's right.'

  He nodded, then took a deep breath. 'All right, then. Just so we understand each other—I'd like you to stay as long as... until there's some change.'

  'I have no intention of leaving,' Rachel said quietly.

  'Fine. I'll tell Emma to prepare your old room.'

  'No,' she said quickly, 'no, I'd rather sleep in the nursery.'

  'Very well.' He started towards the stairs, then he paused. 'I'm going to send the nurse back up and ask Emma to make me some coffee. Shall I have her bring you some?'

  Rachel glanced into the nursery. Jamie hadn't moved; he lay as still as before in his crib.

  'She doesn't have to bother. I'll have it in the kitchen. Just as long as the nurse knows where she can reach me...'

  'The kitchen? Is that where you'll be?' She nodded, and David's lips drew back from his teeth. 'Fine. Then I'll be in the falconry.' The wolfish smile vanished. 'Perhaps I should have made myself clearer, Rachel. You're, here for Jamie's sake. I want no part of you.'

  God, how he despises me, she thought, and suddenly, inexplicably, tears filled her eyes.

  'David...' she began.

  'I want nothing to do with you. Do you understand?' He took a step towards her. 'Do you?'

  Rachel nodded. 'Yes.' The whispered word was like the rustle of dry leaves.

  'I hope so. If I'm in one room, you sure as hell better be in another. Only the nursery is excepted.'

  Tears trickled down her face, the salty taste of them filling her mouth.

  'You'd like it to sound as if I'm the villain, wouldn't you?' she whispered. 'But I'm not. I...'

  'What the hell's wrong with you, Rachel? I'm not interested. Don't you understand?'

  'You're incredible,' she said brokenly. 'You—you use people, you twist things around, you...'

  David moved towards her quickly, his shoulders hunching, his head angling downward. Suddenly Rachel remembered Isis, dropping like a stone from the sky, her talons extended towards her hapless victim. Her heart thumped against her ribs and she took a step back.

  'I'm not afraid of you,' she said quickly.

  The doorjamb pressed into her shoulders and she felt her heart flutter in her chest. David reached for her and she flinched as his hand encircled her throat, the thumb resting lightly in the hollow of her neck. She could feel the rapid skitter of her pulse beneath his fingers; he could feel it, too, she knew, because a cold satisfied smile touched his mouth.

  'Aren't you?' he asked softly.

  She shook her head. 'No,' she lied, as his grip tightened. 'No, I'm not. I...'

  His smile widened until she felt as if she were looking into the cold face of death itself.

  'Then you're a fool,' he whispered.

  Rachel closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was gone.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  'THE MORE things change, the more they remain the same.' It was a French saying, not Grandma's, but Rachel thought nothing more aptly described the next hours. She had been an unwelcome guest in this house months before, and now she was one again. Still, there was a difference. When David had brought her here the first time she had lived in terror of his suddenly focusing those golden eyes on her and ordering her to leave. But she had no such fear now, and not just because he'd told her she could stay until there was some change in Jamie's condition. Rachel's thoughts had already ranged far beyond that. As the hours passed and the dark night gave way to the greyness of morning, she sat in the rocker beside the crib and plotted what she would do once her baby was well.

  Each scenario had drawbacks. The simplest was to wait until Jamie recovered—and he would recover, she told herself fiercely—and then, in the midst of some dark night, walk out of the house with him and flee to the safety of a big, faceless city like Chicago or Dallas. The problem with that plan was that she couldn't imagine David allowing her to get away with it. Well, she thought, there was always the Press. She'd threaten David with exposure, tell him she'd g
ive the newspapers the real story about him and Cassie and the hell with what it would do to Cassie's reputation...

  Amazing, she thought, leaning her forehead against the bars of the crib. One plan involved kidnapping, the other extortion. But that didn't matter. She'd do what she had to do to get her baby back. She would get him back—and no one, not David Griffin or King Kong, would ever take him from her again. For now, she'd sit beside him, watching him as he breathed, touching him, kissing him...

  Her head dipped forward and she blinked back from the edge of sleep. The doctor was beside her, bent over Jamie, a length of rubber tubing in his hand.

  'What are you doing?' whispered Rachel, rubbing her hand across her burning eyes.

  'Making the boy more comfortable,' he told her, jabbing a needle into Jamie's arm. 'I'm going to give him some fluids intravenously.' He glanced at her drawn face and shook his head. 'Get some rest, Miss Cooper. You can't keep this up for ever.'

  'Yes, I can,' she said with grim determination, feeling the sting of the needle as if it were entering her own flesh instead of the baby's. 'I'm not leaving Jamie.'

  It was the first time she'd given voice to the promise she'd made herself, but not the last. When Emma came to bring her a cup of tea later, she accepted it gratefully, but when the woman offered to relieve her of her vigil for an hour, Rachel shook her head.

  'I'm staying with Jamie,' she said carefully. 'I'm never leaving him again.'

  She heard a sharp intake of breath and she raised her head and peered into the shadowed darkness beyond the lamp. David was staring at her from across the room, something indefinably raw in his expression, For a moment-, Rachel dared not breathe. She knew it had been a stupid thing to say with him there; she'd have to watch herself. But finally his eyes slid from her to the child in the crib, and her breathing returned to normal.

  Careful, Rachel, she told herself. Don't give anything away...

  But exhaustion had loosened her tongue and dimmed her mind. She made the same defiant promise to the nurse and then again to Barton when he tiptoed into the room hours later, and finally, when she was so weary that she could no longer tell if it was night or day outside the snow-encrusted window, she lowered the crib side, lifted Jamie into her arms, and whispered the promise to him too.

  'Please come back to me,' she begged, touching her lips to his cheek. 'Please, Jamie! I swear I'll never leave you again.'

  There was a stirring in the darkness and suddenly David stood before her. His eyes were shadowed pools, his face gaunt angles beneath a stubble of dark beard.

  'Don't lie to him,' he said roughly.

  'I love you, Jamie,' she whispered, ignoring the man opposite her. 'Do you hear me? Mama loves you.'

  'Damn you, Rachel! I told you the boy might be able to hear us. Don't tell him lies.'

  Her eyes met David's. Careful, she told herself, and then a Combination of weariness and defiance flared within her and she said everything her tired brain could no longer censor.

  'It wasn't a lie. It was a promise.' The words once spoken filled her with a great sense of peace. For the first time in months, Rachel smiled. 'Do you understand? No one will separate my baby and me again.'

  David's face darkened and his fists curled at his sides. 'That's enough,' he growled, moving towards her. 'For God's sake, Rachel...'

  'Mama?'

  The soft word was barely audible, but it cut between David and Rachel, silencing them with its power. Rachel bent towards the child in her arms, afraid to believe he had spoken.

  'Jamie?' she whispered.

  The child's eyes fluttered open and fastened on her. A rapturous smile spread across his face and he reached a chubby hand towards her cheek.

  'Mama,' he said happily.

  A sob caught in Rachel's throat; she pressed a kiss against the childish palm and then touched her lips to his forehead, where dampness suddenly glistened.

  'His fever's broken,' she said, her voice quavering. She raised her eyes to David's and laughter bubbled in her throat. 'He's going to be all right!'

  David touched the boy's cheek. 'Thank God,' he whispered, then he bent and kissed Jamie's cheek. 'Welcome back, son,' he said in a husky whisper.

  The child's smile broadened. 'Daddy,' he said, and his hand reached up to touch Rachel's face. 'Don' go 'way, Mama,' he sighed as his eyelids drooped closed. 'Please!'

  Rachel clutched the exhausted little body to her breast. 'Never,' she said without hesitation. 'Never, never, never...'

  She raised her head, ready to tell David that she would see him in hell before she gave Jamie up again, but he was staring at her with such a peculiar expression on his face that the words caught in her throat. His golden eyes, fiercer than Isis's, burned into hers. Was he challenging the promise she'd made? It didn't matter; not all his money or power would separate her from her baby again. Turning away, she hugged the child to her and sank into the rocker.

  'I won't leave you,' she whispered. 'I swear it.'

  Dawn broke in the snow-filled sky and still Rachel sat with the baby in her arms. The doctor had examined the child, smiled and pronounced the crisis ended.

  'I'll put him into his crib,' the nurse had said, reaching for Jamie, but Rachel had snatched him from the doctor's arms.

  'No,' she'd said firmly, settling the baby at her breast. 'I'll hold him.'

  For the next few hours Emma and the nurse came and went. Only David stayed constantly. Rachel was dimly aware of his presence, knew it was he who drew a blanket over her, he who held a cup of tea to her lips and urged her to drink, but her concentration was for Jamie alone, as if she could make him draw strength into his body from hers. When finally the nurse persuaded her to hand the baby over so she could change him, Rachel stood, wincing as her aching muscles protested the long hours of inactivity.

  'You need some rest, Rachel.'

  David's voice was hoarse with fatigue. She looked at him and shook her head.

  'I'm fine,' she told him.

  'You're going to get sick if you keep this up!'

  'Don't be silly,' she insisted, shaking her head. 'I...' But shaking her head had been a mistake. Incredibly, the room was spinning around her. 'David?' she whispered, then she tumbled into a black void.

  Rachel awoke in a room filled with the thick silence that comes only in the middle of the night. She lay still for a moment, wondering at the feel of the unfamiliar bed beneath her. A soft white glow was coming from a window beside the bed. Moonlight, she thought hazily, moonlight reflecting on a fresh fall of snow... Her lashes drifted down and touched her cheeks—and then, suddenly, the past hours came rushing back. She sprang up in the bed, trying to untangle herself from the clutch of the bedclothes.

  'Jamie!' she gasped, panic in her voice. 'Jamie...'

  A shadowed form stirred in the gloom. 'He's fine, Rachel.' A match whispered in the darkness. A candle glowed into life and came wavering towards her. David smiled at her from within the pool of golden light. 'It's all right, Jamie's sound asleep. The nurse is with him.'

  'What happened to the lights?'

  'The storm took the lines down.' The flame flickered as he set the candlestick on the bedside table. 'Would you like something? Coffee or tea—a sandwich, perhaps? You've been asleep for hours.'

  'No, nothing, thank you. I... What time is it?'

  'Two in the morning. You passed out, and then...' He raked his fingers through his hair. 'I...I want to thank you for what you did.'

  Rachel shook her head. 'I didn't do anything. His fever just broke, that's all.'

  'Yeah, that's the doctor's story, too. But.. .well, I think it was more than that. And I...I just wanted you to know I'm grateful to you for coming.'

  'Grateful?' Anger sharpened her voice. 'I love Jamie, David. Haven't you figured that out yet?'

  'Look, I don't want to pick a quarrel with you, Rachel. All I know is that I almost lost my son and you gave him back to me.'

  In the unsteady glow of the candle David looked worn
and weary. The scar beside his mouth stood out in pale contrast to his unshaven face; the lines radiating from his eyes seemed more pronounced. Rachel's anger faded.

  'You look exhausted,' she said softly. 'Haven't you slept at all?'

  He shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed. 'A little. I dozed off in the chair for a couple of hours.'

  'What you should do is go to your room and...'

  'I am in my room,' he said with a quick smile. 'The doctor was using yours, so I brought you here.' He put his hands to his forehead and rubbed his temples lightly. 'I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to the boy!'

  His voice was rough with emotion and weariness. Without thinking, Rachel reached towards him, her fingertips grazing his shirtsleeve. He raised his head and his eyes met hers. Her heartbeat quickened. Are you crazy, Rachel?

  'Just give me a few minutes and you can have your room back,' she said. 'I...'

  'Rachel,' David whispered. He shifted his position beside her and his thigh brushed against her hip. A shock raced between them, burning from his flesh to hers despite the layers of bedclothes separating them.

  'Don't,' she said. 'Please, let me get up...' She drew in her breath. 'Who.. .did Emma undress me?'

  David's eyes met hers. 'I undressed you.' His eyes darkened. 'It isn't as if I haven't, done it before.'

  Her heart tripped against her ribs. Yes, she thought, he'd undressed her before. She could still remember the last time. They'd been in the library, lying before the fireplace. The heat of the fire blazing in the hearth had matched the heat of their passion as David had slowly stripped away her clothing, prolonging the final seconds until she had thought she would die of wanting him. Her eyes met his and she knew he was remembering _too.

  'Rachel,' he said thickly, 'Rachel...'

  He bent towards her and ran his hand lightly across her blanket-covered body from hip to breast. She felt herself quicken beneath his touch. Dear God, she thought, what kind of woman was she? How could she respond to him after all he'd done to her? But she was responding; there was that familiar tightness forming in the pit of her belly and that languid heaviness flooding through her veins and...