by Peggy Webb
“What?”
“Two of my brothers have found butchered cattle on their ranches. There would have been some on mine except for the guard I keep posted. And my sister was run off the road in her car yesterday.”
“I’m not scared.”
“I know you have courage, Elizabeth. But I’m a target. This violence is not random. It’s directed at my family, the people close to me. I won’t have you become a target because of me.”
“It’s not your choice. I believe in preservation of history and conservation of natural resources as much as you do. And I’ve decided to start doing something about it.” She tilted her chin at a stubborn angle and glared at him.
Hawk knew Elizabeth wouldn’t stop simply because he asked her to. She was that stubborn—and that brave. There was only one way to drive her off.
“It won’t work, Elizabeth.” He released her and stepped back, his voice hard and cold.
“What won’t work?”
“This latest ploy of yours.” She sucked in an angry breath and flags of color stained her cheeks. “It’s over, Elizabeth. What we had is over and done with.”
“This is not about sex, Hawk. It’s about pride and commitment and courage.”
He resisted the urge to touch her. He couldn’t waver now. Her life depended on it.
“It’s about sex, Elizabeth, raw sex. You sought me out once at the rally. Remember?”
She clenched her hands into fists and stared at him.
“We’re alike, Elizabeth. I know you as well as I know myself. We’re two people ruled by our passions.”
“Speak for yourself, Hawk. I’m in control.”
“Are you?” He dragged her into his arms and slammed his mouth down on hers. She sagged against him. Then, as his tongue plundered her mouth, she heated up.
He kept on kissing her, edging her closer and closer to the breaking point. Soon there would be no turning back, for him as well as for Elizabeth. Hawk pushed almost to the point of no return, then he let her go and stepped back.
“Are you, Elizabeth?” he asked, deliberately making his voice mocking.
“I ought to slap you.”
It was what he wanted—her anger. He had done what he’d come to do. But he didn’t feel noble and triumphant; he felt like a snake crawling on its belly.
“Stay away, Elizabeth. Stay out of my life and out of my bed.” He had one foot already through the bedroom door when she called his name.
“Hawk!”
He turned, and there she stood, stripped of everything except a creamy white bustier, garter belt, stockings, and high-heel shoes. She moved slowly toward him, illuminated only by the glow of the bedside lamp and the soft gleam of white silk. In a languorous movement, she lifted her hair off her head and let it filter slowly through her fingers until it was settled around her shoulders.
He closed the space between them in two strides and pulled her into his arms.
Together they unleashed a storm of passion. There was anger and frustration and pain and deep, deep longing in their lovemaking. And there was something else, something so strong and so beautiful, it could never be destroyed: There was love.
Elizabeth felt it well up inside her as she and Hawk said good-bye. Tears wet her cheeks and ran down the side of her throat, but she didn’t make a sound. She concentrated all her powers on saying good-bye to the man she loved. Her way. This time Elizabeth McCade was the one saying good-bye, and she would be the one to walk away.
When their passion was spent, Hawk held her tightly in his arms without speaking. There was nothing more to be said. Finally he released her and walked away, back through the secret passageway that had brought him to Elizabeth. And now it was taking him away.
Elizabeth sagged against the door, resting her forehead on the jamb. Tears rained silently down her cheeks. She made no attempt to brush them away.
In the tunnel, Hawk stood with his head bowed. Saying good-bye to Elizabeth was one of the hardest things he had ever done. For the first time in his life he questioned his priorities. He was a warrior, and he would continue to fight all the battles that needed to be fought. But the victories would be hollow. Without Elizabeth, everything in his life would be hollow.
At last he made his way home. The victory was not yet his. There was work to do.
o0o
Elizabeth fought hard against depression after Hawk left. Her disastrous affair with Mark had changed her life. But her affair with Hawk had not been disastrous; it had been wonderful. And now it was over. She was determined that this time she would not run away and hide. This time she would get on with her life. And she would get on with her new causes. There was no way she would let Hawk or any other man tell her what to do. From now on, she made her own choices, and if those choices set her on a dangerous path, that was her problem. Not Hawk’s.
On Monday at work she invited Gladys to lunch. They went to a small sandwich shop near the bank.
“Thank you for coming, Gladys.”
“Why wouldn’t I, I’d like to know?”
Elizabeth smiled. “You can’t say I’ve been the friendliest person in the world.”
“No. I can’t say that, but you are one of the most interesting. You’re a woman of mystery.” Gladys leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. “Do you have any idea how many rumors there are about you floating around the bank... and how many of the girls on the first floor would give their eyeteeth to know what we’re talking about today.”
“When we get back, Gladys, you can confirm the most exotic of the rumors, whatever they are.”
“They say you led a secret life in Connecticut and that you lead a secret life here in Tombigbee Bluff.”
“Yes. I turn into a witch on alternate Tuesdays and a vampire on weekends. “ Elizabeth said with a deadpan expression.
“You’re a card, Elizabeth.” Gladys laughed until she wiped tears from her eyes.
“Actually, I’m getting involved in the Chickasaw resistance.”
“Good Lord. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I don’t think so. Anyhow, some things are important enough to take a risk over, and I believe this is one of them.”
“That leader... Big Hawk...”
“Black Hawk.”
“Lordy, he’s some kind of man. I wouldn’t mind getting involved in the resistance myself, if I thought he’d look at me twice.”
Elizabeth squeezed her hands together under the table. Black Hawk was out of her life. She had to remember that.
“If you’re serious about helping, I’ll take you with me tonight. I’m going back to the schoolhouse on the tribal lands to work. They need all the help they can get. But I have to warn you, it could be dangerous.”
“Don’t you think I know that? It’s all over the news.”
“Then you’ll go?”
“Shoot. I can’t tonight. I’ve got a hot date. But how about the next time? I really would like to help. I’m not the fluff-head I sometimes pretend to be.”
“Done.” Elizabeth picked up the tab for both lunches, then turned back to Gladys. “I notice you knitting sometimes in the lounge. I wonder if you’d teach me.”
“It’s no big deal. I’d be glad to. But why in the world would you want to learn how to knit?”
“You mean, how will I ever have time, considering the exciting secret life I lead?” Elizabeth laughed.
“Something like that.”
“I just feel the need for... a hobby. Something new in my life.” Anything, she thought. Anything to fill the horrible, lonely hours now that Hawk was gone.
o0o
That night Elizabeth was bent over the antiquated copying machine at the schoolhouse when she heard hoof beats. She felt as if an electrical current had passed through her body. Black Hawk. She pressed one hand over her pounding heart and tried to get herself back under control. Just because somebody was approaching on a horse didn’t mean it was Black Hawk. There were bound to be many men who rode horses.
“Hello.” She smiled. “Isn’t it a little late to come calling on a horse?”
“I told you not to come here.”
“As you can see, I don’t take orders.”
His gaze swept the room. “Where are the other women?”
“They’ve already gone home. It’s late.”
“You stayed here alone?” His voice was like a clap of thunder.
“Obviously.”
He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up against him. A muscle worked in his tight jaw.
“Elizabeth... what am I going to do with you?”
She tipped her head back and challenged him with her dark eyes. “I think we’ve already done just about everything, don’t you?”
He held on to her a moment longer, then let go. He was still unsmiling, but a spark of humor lit his black eyes.
“I liked you better when you stayed shut up in your house with the blinds drawn. At least you were safe.” He stalked to the other side of the machine, scowling at everything in sight.
“That’s because you like to be in control, Hawk. You like to be in charge.” She stalked after him. When she was even with him, she lifted her chin and put her hands on her hips. “I won’t be taken charge of. Hawk. You’ve declared a war that you can’t possibly win.”
“I have not declared war on you, Elizabeth.”
“Yes, you have. When you came to my basement issuing ultimatums, you declared war.”
They glared at each other, and the air became thick with tension. Color rose in Elizabeth’s cheeks, and Hawk’s breathing became harsh. Suddenly he hauled her to him.
“I wish all my enemies were as sexy as you, Elizabeth... and as easily vanquished.”
His eyes were blacker than doom as he bent down and captured her mouth. It was a relentless kiss, a kiss that allowed no mercy. She fought hard against the feelings that threatened to swamp her;—passion and need and a love so great she wondered why it wasn’t written in blazing letters in the dark night sky. And finally, she could resist no more than she could deny her own name. With a soft sigh she surrendered.
Hawk’s kiss became tender and so persuasive that both of them almost buckled to the floor. He slid his hands up her legs until he reached the top of her stockings. His fingers burned into her warm flesh.
“Hawk... no.” Elizabeth pushed against him with all her strength.
Hawk stepped back, tension etched in his face and every line of his body.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. That was manipulative.”
He hooked a straight-back chair with his foot and straddled it. “You aren’t going to quit, are you?”
“No.” She went back to the balky machine and started feeding papers in. “What’s going to happen, Hawk?”
“Ultimately, we will win.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Besides that.”
“The mayor and his board are using the press to drum up support for the mall. Any time new jobs and additional tax dollars are mentioned, the public listens. Right now, that issue is obscuring the real one: The city doesn’t own the land in question. The Chickasaws do.”
“And the city still won’t sit down with you and talk.”
“No. They hope time will swing so much support their way that we’ll give up and walk away.”
There was no sound for a while except the whirring of the machine as Elizabeth printed copies of her pamphlet. Suddenly she switched off the machine and whirled to face Hawk.
“I know a way to make them talk to you,” she said.
“How?”
“Take me captive.”
“What?” Hawk stood up so fast, his chair tipped over and crashed against the floor.
“If you had a hostage, you could force the mayor and the board to come to the negotiating table with you.”
“Are you suggesting that I use you to fight this battle for me?”
“I’m not suggesting that, exactly. I wouldn’t really be a hostage. But they wouldn’t have to know that.” She smiled, enamored with her plan. “It’s perfect. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“No!”
“You don’t have to roar.”
“I will not hide behind the skirts of a woman.”
“I’m not talking about you. Hawk. I’m suggesting you use me for the cause, for all the Chickasaws.”
“It’s cowardly. A warrior is never cowardly.”
“You’re the most stubborn man I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re the most impossible woman.”
They came toward each other and stood toe to toe. Elizabeth tipped her face up and Hawk bent down until they were almost nose to nose.
“I don’t know why I lov—” She stopped herself just in time.
“What did you say?”
“I said...” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I bother with you.”
He studied her for a long time.
At last he smiled. “You bother with me because you are Elizabeth McCade.” He walked over to the table and picked up her purse. Then he opened it and pulled out her Magnum. “And because you carry a big gun.”
“Yes, I do. And don’t you ever forget that, Hawk. I can take care of myself.”
She turned the machine back on and picked up a sheaf of papers. Hawk picked up the overturned chair and sat down. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at him.
“That was your cue to leave.”
“I’m staying.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Elizabeth, if you insist on doing dangerous things, I’ll do my best to protect you. My only concern is that I can’t make it a twenty-four-hour job.”
Elizabeth was silent for a while, wishing for things she knew she couldn’t have—Hawk in her bed, in her life, twenty-four hours a day. She studied him. He looked magnificent and noble and tired, very tired. She knew he was spending long hours at the barricade, keeping watch and keeping peace. It had to be physically and emotionally exhausting. Besides that, he was giving speeches, granting interviews, trying to persuade the city fathers to set up an official meeting for negotiations, and running his ranch.
Elizabeth switched off the machine. Her intention was to help him, not add to his problems. Quietly she gathered her purse.
“I really do appreciate your concern for my safety. Thank you for coming, Hawk.”
“You’re welcome, Elizabeth.”
The moon was full and bright, clearly illuminating her car and the black stallion waiting patiently for his master.
Elizabeth started toward her car, then turned back to Hawk and put her hand on his cheek.
“Be safe,” she whispered.
He covered her hand, pressing it hard against his flesh.
“Elizabeth... Elizabeth...” The pain in his voice broke her heart all over again.
“Kiss me, Hawk. One last time... and then go quickly.”
He bent over her with the swiftness of his namesake and captured her lips. She clung to him, fighting the tears that pushed against her eyelids. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. Not now, not ever.
As always, they kissed without restraint, without regard to the time or the place. And neither of them saw the watcher in the nearby forest.
Seven
Elizabeth spent an exhausting week, leaving work every day and going directly to one public function after another. She had put pamphlets in every willing hand in Tombigbee Bluff. And she’d discovered that she had a small talent for rhetoric. On the previous night she had been asked to speak at the Rotary Club about her part in the Chickasaw resistance.
It was no wonder that when Saturday morning came she felt weak and queasy. She dressed, but the thought of food made her sick. She gathered her knitting and dragged herself downstairs. Switching on the television for company, she sat in th
e most comfortable chair in the den and began the tedious process of knit and purl.
She hated knitting. Gladys had patiently taught her the stitches, but Elizabeth had serious doubts that she would ever produce anything besides the long chain of yarn that resembled a crooked snake.
“If this ever becomes an afghan, it will be a miracle,” she muttered. She gave serious thought to taking up a new hobby—painting, for instance. Although she had no artistic talent, she thought it might be therapeutic to take brush in hand and slash a white canvas with black paint. She would definitely use black, because that was the mood she was in lately.
Suddenly the television caught her attention. “We interrupt this program to bring you a special news bulletin. Fighting has broken out at the barricade.” Elizabeth was on her feet. Yarn and knitting needles clanked to the floor.
“...no details yet,” the reporter was saying, “but there are unsubstantiated reports that the Chickasaw leader, Black Hawk, has been shot.”
Elizabeth ran out of the room, leaving a trail of yarn and the television blaring. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed her purse and fumbled for the car keys.
She drove like a madwoman across town, ignoring all speed limits. When she reached the barricade, all she could see was mass confusion. People were running every which way. There was shouting and yelling, pushing and shoving.
She raced into the thick of the crowd. “Please... let me through.”
An officer of the Tombigbee Bluff Police Department grabbed her arm as she tried to go under the ropes that cordoned off the area.
“You can’t go in there, lady.”
“I have to get through.”
“Nobody gets through, lady.”
“I must. I have to get to Hawk.”
“Nobody is going to get to him now.”
Elizabeth almost fainted. She clutched the officer’s sleeve. “Is he...” Words stuck in her dry throat. The possibilities were too horrible to even think about, let alone speak.
Suddenly there was a thundering of horse’s hooves. “Elizabeth, get back,” Hawk yelled.
She broke free and ran toward him. He leaned down and scooped her into his arms. The stallion never broke stride. At Hawk’s urging, the stallion jumped the barricade and galloped off toward the forest.
