Beyond the Shadow (Above & Beyond Book 1)

by Julee Baker

  “Lake. Wait. Slow down . . . Wait a minute.” Hawk’s compelling voice broke through the fog.

  Her forward motion slowed to almost a stop, but she couldn’t force herself to turn. A warm, firm grip on her shoulders did it for her. Chancing a glance up at Hawk, she was reassured by the compassion she found there. Had she ever felt this embarrassed? But no, it was more than that. More like—vulnerable—in her life?

  “Come. Here. Sit.” He motioned to a bench along the side of the hallway and gently maneuvered her there without waiting for a reply. “Give yourself a minute. Sit down—before you fall down.”

  It was good to sit, but not as good as the strong arm wrapped around her and the hand rubbing her upper arm in support. After what was probably only a minute, but seemed like an eternity, Lake’s breathing settled to near normal, and her pulse slowed considerably.

  She tried to shove the plane crash memories as far back in her mind as she could.

  “I’m . . . sorry.” Lake managed another look at Hawk. His look of concern disarmed her. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. It reassured her. She wanted to be able to trust him. Wanted to dive into that feeling. She frowned at the revelation.

  “I . . . Don’t you need to be in class? They’ll revolt soon . . . demand refunds.”

  Back in control now, Lake attempted to lighten the mood.

  Hawk’s look was tender. He wasn’t put off course by her tactic to get rid of him. “We’re taking a break. We take two breaks a class anyway. So what if this one’s a little ahead of schedule. Besides, they’re grown-ups, they’ll be okay.” Then he continued, “So, does the PTSD hit often?”

  “What?”

  “The PTSD . . . Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Does it hit often??”

  Lake focused on the furrow of concern between his dark brows as she tried to decide how to answer.

  “Well—I,” she trailed off. It would be futile to try and explain away a reaction he obviously recognized.

  He continued when she hesitated, “At first I thought you were surprised, put off maybe, that I was teaching the class and didn’t tell you. Of course, I knew there was a class coming up.” He said it with a little apologetic grin. “I would have told you, but I thought you wouldn’t come. The idea, well, beside the fact you do need the training, was to show you that I’m not such a bad guy.” There was that dimple again. “But when I saw the level of your reaction, well, I figured there’s something else. You know Lake, I’ve seen plenty of PTSD, and I’m wondering if that’s what’s going on with you—or a panic attack. The question is, why? What triggered it? Was it something I said?”

  Lake stared at the opposite wall. No sense in trying to hide it. Nothing to be embarrassed about—right? That’s what the therapist had told her. She kept her eyes on the wall and said quietly, “The first three months after seeing the accident scene on TV were the worst. I went to some therapy sessions. It helped. I thought they were gone. It’s been months—until tonight.” She spoke the words, mostly to herself.

  The heat of Hawk’s comforting hand seeped into Lake’s consciousness and she glanced at the lean, strong fingers wrapped around her arm. At her look, he removed his hand, but the warmth lingered and Lake wished he hadn’t misinterpreted her look as one of discomfort.

  Goose bumps replaced the warmth and she wrapped her arms around herself. Was she so starved for a man’s touch? Or this man’s touch? They definitely had chemistry, as evidenced at Suzanne’s. But chemistry could get you into trouble. Her feelings were so all over the place right now. The last thing she needed in her life right now was man drama. Right? She had River to look out for. Right. Of course, that was right. The thought shook her back to reality.

  But Hawk did deserve an explanation.

  “I’m almost afraid to say it now,” she frowned at let out a nervous laugh. “Flight,” she stated flatly, turning her face to his as she spoke the trigger word. “Rescue flight.” She looked down at her lap. Her hands had steadied. “Those—they must have been nurses, I think—in front of me (he nodded affirmatively to this) were talking about you and rescue flights.” She shook her head in disbelief, “I can’t believe it hit me like that—kind of knocked me for a loop. It’s been months,” she added, her voice apologetic.

  “Sure.” He looked at the opposite wall, considering. “That could trigger it. Make’s sense.”

  “How’d you know about my PTSD?”

  “We’re trained to watch for it in the squad. And, well, Sam mentioned you told him about it.”

  Lake sent him a questioning look.

  “Yeah . . . uh . . . guilty. I asked about you. Does that bother you—that I was pushing Sam for information, I mean?”

  Lake wasn’t sure how she should answer that. Honestly, she was finding him more attractive all the time and she doubted if there was a woman alive who wouldn’t be flattered by his attention, but should she let on, before she really knew more about him? Her judgment in men had fallen far short in the past. She didn’t trust herself anymore.

  After River’s full-time appearance into and Jeremy’s disappearance out of, her life just a few months earlier, hadn’t she vowed to steer clear of men? Could Hawk be different? He seemed to understand what she was going through. And, after the terrible way she had treated him, slandered him, he still seemed willing to . . . to what?

  She’d be honest, but evasive.

  “I don’t really know why you would ask Sam about me. The way I treated you . . . the things I said . . .” She blinked. “What do you think I should think about it?”

  Hawk half-smiled and put his hand back on her shoulder. He lowered his head. “You know,” he sighed, “I’ve been going through some stuff. I haven’t handled things the best myself, lately. I’m hoping we can start over. Not judge by first . . . or second impressions.” He winced. “I’ll be honest, Lake. I’d like to get to know you.” The topaz eyes searched her face. “I know you’ve had a lot to cope with. I’m sorry. PTSD is understandable after a trauma like you’ve been through.” His look was sympathetic. “But I was kind of hoping that we could spend some time together. I could show you the country around here.” Then, he grinned. “After all, it does seem you could use a good guide.”

  The grin was contagious.

  “I could use a good guide—and a good friend.”

  It couldn’t hurt to get to know him better. She’d be careful. Take it slow. Her calm returned, for the most part.

  “Listen, I think I’m good now. You better get back to your students. They’ll be demanding a refund.” She smiled to reinforce her claim.

  His eyes, still warm with concern, were trained on her. His head tilted. “You’re sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Embarrassed—but much better.”

  “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re coming back in?”

  “You know, I think I need a little time to sort this out.” Lake gave a weak smile. “But, if you wouldn’t mind, my email is on my registration. Could you email me the information from tonight? If it’s not too much trouble, I mean—I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Listen Lake, I can do better than that. Maybe this isn’t the best setting for you. I owe you—I still feel bad about how rude I was to you when Elle was hit and I especially owe you for working with Sam on those faked photos.” He pressed his lips together, considering. It made a dimple show. “Let me make it up to you by repeating the lesson for you in person.”

  Her heart beat faster as his comforting voice wrapped around her like a warm, soft blanket. She swallowed hard and shook the errant thought away, focusing on his suggestion, turning her eyes to his. “Oh, I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble. Sam says you have an awful lot on your plate.”

  Shoot. That slipped out. She didn’t really want to let Hawk know they had been discussing him. He might get the idea, the correct idea, she thought with chagrin, of just how interested she was. Better to figure out her jumble of e
motions toward him before she telegraphed too much. But she could tell by the fleeting expression that passed over his face, he was sharp enough to catch on.

  “Seems like Sam’s been answering a lot of questions,” He grinned, adding “from both directions—and it’s no trouble. Believe me, I feel like a real heel about the way I acted. Let me make it up to you.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “You can bring River, if you like.” He prompted. “At the sculpture class, River expressed quite an interest in the outdoors.”

  “Hawk, is everything okay out here? Will class be starting again soon?” The older brunette nurse interrupted Lake as her head poked out from around the corner.

  Lake’s whisper took a more serious tone, “I told you. The revolt is starting.”

  He smiled enough to make the other dimple appear too. “I’ll be right in, Cathy.” Then to Lake, “You okay to drive?” He asked and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, feeling her pulse. “Your pulse is still going a pretty good clip.”

  No surprise there. It would be, as long as he was holding her wrist. At her affirmative nod, he got up. “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. We can discuss the details of your wilderness training. You’re sure you’re okay to drive?”

  She nodded her assurance and thanked him, watching as he rejoined the nurse and they re-entered the classroom.

  Lake stayed on the bench for a couple more minutes, making sure she’d recovered from the episode—and, admit it—the effects of being near Hawk again.

  What was she thinking? She dug in her bag for her keys and headed for the jeep.

  A few minutes in his company and she was already stomping all over her best intentions to stay away from men. How could she even consider spending more time around him? With each encounter, she could feel her resolve crumbling a bit more.

  Hopeless endeavor. He might be the most attractive man in the world, might prove himself to be trustworthy and honest, to give River a chance, but there was still a huge roadblock with all kinds of warning signs flashing. From where she stood now, Lake saw no way around it. The man went up in small rescue planes for heaven’s sake—in ferocious weather and placed himself in dicey situations. How could she even consider putting herself through that, over and over? Still, the pull was there, like iron to a magnet. He would be a great friend to have. Could she keep any other emerging feelings in check?

  Did she want to?

  ***

  Hawk refocused on teaching the rest of his class that evening. He was good at compartmentalizing what needed to be done. It was one skill you developed quickly when working search and rescue—no distractions. Focus. Keep your head in the game. Whatever else is going on in your life will be there later.

  Lately, he found himself wanting to deal with Lake McDonald a lot more.

  So, it was no surprise that on the drive back to Shadowhawk that night, his thoughts circled round to her again.

  Man—watch yourself. He’d have to tread fast to keep his head above water when it came to Lake McDonald. As for her, life had swept a wave of disaster over her family and she was still floundering.

  Could he help?

  Maybe. He tossed around the negatives. Those pink fingernails made him wonder if there was too much city in Lake for her to stay away from the urban scene for long. Who knows—she might take her little brother and turn around any minute—hightail it back to “civilization”—as Cheryl had put it.

  Nevertheless, she needed to brush-up on her outdoor smarts while she was here. He would help her with that.

  As for himself, he’d never leave Shadow. How come the women he’d become involved with always ended up thinking he’d move to Denver or L.A. or something? They just didn’t get it. Never happen. Nice place to visit and all that.

  No, Montana was in his blood, he’d never leave.

  Even with all his doubts, Hawk couldn’t deny he was drawn to Lake. Her vision shone through her photographs. It fascinated him—as if she could pinpoint the heart and soul of a place.

  Did she know her own heart as well?

  And what about him? It’s a whole lot easier to figure out someone else. Lake intrigued him, but what price would he pay if he took the dive?

  He stared down the tunnel of the truck’s headlights. Yeah, a guy could drown in Lake McDonald before he even realized he was going under. He grunted at his attempt at humor, causing Elle to rouse from her sleep on the seat beside him and give him a quizzical look.

  Truth was, he couldn’t seem to get his mind off her. Sure, she was nice to look at—but it was more than that—a certain beauty not defined by looks. A spirit, a talent . . . and a basket load of complications.

  He wanted uncomplicated—didn’t he? Simple was good. He was working toward simple. Simple had always been the goal . . . right?

  The headlights flashed against the deep green wall of fir trees at the turn into the ranch. The truck took a hard bounce as it left the blacktop onto the gravel lane, prompting a sleeping dog to wake again and voice a serious, canine complaint.

  NINE

  Private Lessons

  “W

  hat do you mean, don’t get too tricky?” John Colter gruffed into the phone at his attorney. “Who’s getting tricky? And what am I paying you for, to turn tail and run whenever there’s a problem?”

  “Well, no—just meant—”

  “Don’t just mean anything. I pay you good money to handle things for me, so handle it. Go find some photography expert to say those photos are real. I’ve given you plenty of resources—make certain you find the right experts.” Colter added his own brand of emphasis to the word right. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how to do your job. Whether you like it or not, I’m going with this, so make it happen . . . or I’ll find someone who will.”

  Colter ended the call, disgusted. Used to be when he paid someone well to do a job, they’d get it done, no questions asked, not come sniveling back each time a minor detail got in the way.

  Speaking of details, what was that meddling McDonald woman doing interfering in his business anyway? Her and that smart-aleck attitude she’d laid on him—and in front of everyone at the diner. Who did she think she was? Might as well pull her off her high-horse while he was bringing Matthews down. Matter of fact, the more he thought about it, he might be able to kill two birds with one stone.

  He wouldn’t admit it to the attorney, but it looked like he’d need a new and better plan than those photos. But, at least the photos of the dog would keep Matthews stirred up for a while. All the better, when he figured out what to hit him with next, Matthews would be looking the other way.

  Yeah, he needed that gold mine. Needed it bad and he would get it. Those sure-thing, Asian stocks his hot-shot broker recommended almost bankrupted him. That mine could make him well. Gold was sky-high now.

  “Con-boy. Con-boy.” Even now, at forty-one, the schoolyard taunt still echoed in his brain. He was in seventh grade, when his father was sent to prison . . . eight years for tax evasion. He and his mother had to scrape for every meal, every flea-bag apartment. She worked herself to an early grave, slaving at two part-time jobs which still left them hungry enough to eat the wallpaper. He was never going back to that.

  Good thing old dad made useful connections in prison. When his father got out, everything was different; and he taught his boy to nurture those connections. Too bad everything was going down the toilet because of that stupid broker’s hair-brained scheme. That’s what you get for trying to go legit. He snorted. It was a private club John Colter had always been locked out of.

  Well, they weren’t going to win.

  Lucky break, that old Barnes woman had shot her mouth off in the diner last fall, whining about her son, reminding him of the old Shadow mine. They had pulled plenty of gold out of that old mine, back in the day.

  He had enough cash left to keep up the illusion that he was a mover and shaker . . . for the short term, anyway. These little
towns were always looking for someone to infuse cash into the local economy. Couldn’t keep up this pace for much longer though, had to get his hands on that gold mine. Pronto.

  The Barnes woman was proving easy enough to play. All he had to do was pay the old broad a little attention, give her some sympathy, especially now that they had become such good “friends”. Too bad so much of that mine was under Matthews’s property—he was a different story.

  If he was lucky, his photo idea could still work. Lake McDonald wasn’t the only expert around. But his father had taught him, never count on luck. He needed action. Needed money. Needed that gold. He’d kill that condescending attitude of Matthews’s, and in the process, strike a blow for his dead father. That testimony of Matthews’s old grandfather had helped send his father to jail, left Matthews sitting up there on all that gold, acting like he’s king of the world . . . like he didn’t care about the gold. Who was he trying to kid? Everybody cares about gold.

  Too bad his guy only knocked a glancing blow to Matthews’s stupid mutt that morning on the road. That would have showed him . . . But he’d still have his chance. If Matthews wouldn’t sell, he would take.

  Yeah, John Colter knew the taste of misery. It was time Matthews got his plateful. No playin’ around anymore. Maybe misery would knock him off that mountain. He’d work his other plan. This time, it would be fool-proof.

  A plan that would open the way for him and leave Matthews’s begging to get as far away from Shadow mountain as he could . . . for good.

  ***

  Before Lake knew it, Wednesday rolled around and the little green Jeep was bumping its way up the drive to Hawk’s place for her personal wilderness survival class. On the way, she’d almost chickened out and turned back. She’d even pulled wide onto the side of the road to make a U-turn, but the Scots-stubborn in her wouldn’t allow it. When Hawk had called last night to confirm, Lake let him know that River would be in school, so he wouldn’t be coming along.

  Now, as she drove up to the house, she wished she did have River along for support . . . or perhaps, as a diversion. To Hawk’s credit, he hadn’t seemed to shy away from Riv. After Jeremy had turned tail and run at the mere mention of becoming her brother’s guardian, it was a pleasant discovery.