by Julee Baker
Seeing him would give her just the jolt she needed, one that had nothing to do with caffeine.
“Just headed in. I’ll be in town this afternoon giving a friend a hand, and then for class tonight. Got the crates for the Denver show packed this morning. Ready to hoist into the trailer. All that’s left to do is celebrate. Turkey sandwiches with you sounds perfect.”
Lake laughed. “I’m afraid my turkey sandwiches aren’t really the stuff of celebrations.”
“The you part is though. Slap those sandwiches together wildcat, and I’ll see you in fifteen.”
Thumpity-thump, thump. She could hear her heart. Game over. She was in deep.
She raced upstairs to the apartment and barely had time to scrape the sandwich fixings together when she heard the brass bell on the studio door downstairs tinkle.
He must be as anxious to see her as she was to see him. She grabbed for the dishtowel and swept at a few crumbs.
“I’m up here. C’mon up.” Lake called.
Lake pulled a couple of her turquoise Fiesta Ware plates and coffee cups out of the cabinet. The coral napkins and placemats would accent nicely. She stood back and surveyed the colorful table as his footsteps reached the top of the steps.
Something was missing. Well, other than her shoes. She was extra glad she had given herself a pedicure the day before. The “Peek-a-Boo Pink” nails peeked cheerily at her. Back to the table. “Ah-ha.” She spied the inexpensive bouquet of Shasta daisies—an impulse buy yesterday at the grocery store. She’d move them from the counter to the table. She was turning with the vase when the apartment door creaked fully open.
Lake couldn’t have suppressed the smile on her face if she had wanted to, but she didn’t want to anymore. All the bits and pieces she was finding out about Hawk . . . the challenges he had faced, his interests and passions and most of all the faith that guided him . . . she knew he would not hurt her. That confidence and security shone in her smile as she turned to greet him.
Her grandmother’s cut-glass vase hit the tile floor and shattered into a thousand pieces. A complete stranger stood inside her apartment. A tall, menacing-looking, complete stranger. And being a small apartment, he wasn’t all that far away. She took an involuntary step backward into the counter, wincing with pain as she stepped on a shard of jagged glass.
A grin hung loosely on the man’s angular face, seemingly enjoying himself. Lake found her voice, while her right hand found its way to the heavy, Kool-Aid type water pitcher on the counter.
“Who are you? Why are you in my apartment?”
He laughed. “Why, you invited me in, Lake.”
“I’m expecting someone.”
“Oh . . . too bad.” He glanced at the table. “Cozy.” He narrowed his stare at Lake. “I’ll get right to the point. People need to keep their nose and expertise out of business that doesn’t concern them.” Then ominously, “You know what I mean? . . . Do you? Do you understand what I mean,” his hooded eyes raked her, “lovely Lake?” He finished with a crooked smile.
A smile that had nothing to do with happy.
Lake tried to keep her hand, and voice, from shaking, as she held the pitcher she would use as a club if needed.
“Oh, I know exactly what you mean. And I’ll do whatever I feel like with my expertise. If you know what I mean.” She stated defiantly. What could be keeping Hawk? She thought frantically. He should have been here by now.
The man’s off-kilter smile disappeared at her defiance. He looked around the room. His leer landed on River’s bright, smiling kindergarten picture, sitting on the entry-way table.
“They’re so cute at his age. So trusting.” He turned back to Lake. “Know-what-I-mean?” He punctuated the veiled threat with a grin.
A grin that had nothing to do with liking children.
Lake was trembling now. Threatening her was one thing. She could to take care of herself, but the thought of someone hurting River was too much to bear.
“Get out. Get out now.”
He stepped closer. Lake’s grip tightened on the pitcher’s handle, preparing to swing.
He ground out a laugh. A laugh that had nothing to do with humor.
“This conversation will be ‘our little secret’. We know you’ll make the right decision . . . for everyone concerned.” His glance went back to River’s picture.
He finished with a loud whisper, “Our secret.” A dirty finger-nailed finger motioned a shhh over his narrow smirk. Then, he was out the door.
Lake stood there, among the remains of the bloody daisies, as shattered as her grandmother’s ornate, cut-glass vase.
***
Hawk hoped Lake liked the spur-of-the-moment bouquet of daisies he stopped to pick up, enough to justify his being fifteen minutes late. Two bunches. He smiled to himself and glanced at the flowers on the seat beside him as the silver truck pulled up to her studio. They were so like her, he thought. Those coral roses had caught his eye at first, with all their drama and scent, but the daisies possessed a simple beauty, an unaffected genuineness—like he sensed in Lake. He smiled at thought of her.
Lately, he’d been doing a lot of smiling.
The studio was empty, but he could see the door to her apartment was ajar. He took the steps two at a time.
“Knock, knock . . . Sorry I’m late but I . . .”
It had been a long time since Hawk Matthews’s jaw dropped open in surprise. Make that alarm.
Lake stood there, in a pool of blood and daisies, holding a pitcher.
“What? What happened? Lake . . . Lake!” Then as the bare feet and broken glass registered, “Don’t move. I’ll come to you.”
She was white-as-a-sheet and wide-eyed, and it sent a shock to the core of him like he’d never experienced before. Even after all he’d seen working with GRRR, the sight of Lake’s blood hammered him as hard as anything he’d been exposed to. Had she had another PTSD episode? Not good. He tossed his own daisies onto the table, took the pitcher from her and put it on the counter then carefully lifted her out of the bloody, shattered mess. He took her to one of the kitchen chairs and propped her bleeding foot on another.
“Keep your foot up. I’ll be right back.”
Rifling through the kitchen drawers produced a couple of flour-sack dish-towels. After placing her foot on the towel, Hawk gave it a quick examination. The cut by her left heel was deep and still bleeding quite a bit.
“Looks clean, but, I can’t tell for sure. A doctor should look at it. You’ll need a stitch or two. The way it’s bleeding—looks like you might have nicked a vein.”
Lake snapped back to reality.
“Oh . . . no. It’s just a cut.” She frowned deeply. “Are you sure? I h-have to clean up this mess. I need to go to River’s school this afternoon. I need to be there at two. Absolutely have to. Ranger Randy is going to be there and I promised River. I promised.”
Her eyes teared. He looked at his watch. “It’s ten-to-one. Let’s get you to the clinic and see if we can make it. No. Don’t try to walk. I’ll carry you. I’ll take care of that,” he frowned at the bloody floor, “later.”
“But . . .”
“No buts. Try to relax. It’ll be all right. Really.”
Silken strands of her hair had loosened and he gently pushed them from her face. He lifted the dark braid over her shoulder and rubbed her back a little. His soothing didn’t seem to be having much effect on the state she was in. He wrapped the towel tighter around her foot and carried her to the truck.
All Hawk could get out of her on the way to the clinic was that she dropped the vase and cut her foot. That she was clumsy . . . It had been her grandmother’s and she was disappointed. He gave her a sideways glance. She was staring out the window. Why was she avoiding looking at him?
Something didn’t add up. What was the deal with the pitcher? What was she doing with that? Why would she pick up a pitcher when she was standing barefoot in broken glass? No—he
knew he wasn’t mistaken—knew what scared looked like. Had seen it on countless GRRR rescues. Acknowledged it in himself when he needed to.
And Lake was scared. Very scared.
Was it the sight of the blood? He hadn’t pictured her as squeamish—but there was a lot of blood.
Whatever it was, he wanted badly to help her. If the PTSD was worse than she thought, well, he would help her deal with it. It was important to him for her to be whole and happy. Matter of fact, he had to admit it to himself, Lake’s happiness and well-being was fast becoming his number one priority.
Just when exactly, had that happened? It was his turn to stare out the window.
Hawk helped her to the exam room then went to the waiting room and walked it like a caged animal, causing an older gent to ask him if ‘it was his first?’ He frowned, then understanding, shook his head, not bothering to explain further. Hawk knew her injuries weren’t serious, but he wished she’d open-up to him. Trust him to understand. If they couldn’t develop trust . . . Well . . .
He brushed his hand absently through his hair and plopped down into a chair, leaned his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes. Tried to quiet his thoughts. Here I am again. Asking for more favors . . . Please . . . Let her know she can trust me . . .
***
“There was a small piece of glass lodged in the wound. The X-ray showed it clearly. Tricky.” The doctor smiled in satisfaction as held up tweezers with the glass shard to the light. “Good thing you came in. The cut is more on the side of your heel. You should be able to walk normally on it in two or three days. Until then, try to step lightly. Keep your weight on the toes on that foot. Keep it bandaged and dry. Favor it for, um, let’s say, three days and come back if it turns red or hurts more than it does now. The stitches should dissolve by themselves.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” The nurse helped Lake to the wheelchair and rolled her to the waiting area. Lake used the time trying to decide what to tell Hawk.
She had a mind at war with itself, wanting, in the worst way, to tell him about that goon’s threats. But the threat to River was not to be taken lightly. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake. What was her best course of action?
When the nurse wheeled her around the corner into the waiting room, Hawk immediately came to her side. He took over wheeling her out to the parking area. Once there, he put his arm around her waist, to take the weight off her injured foot while he boosted her into the truck.
“I can’t thank you enough for helping me out. Some celebration.” Her mouth turned down.
“No need to thank me. We’ll postpone celebrating. I want a raincheck on those turkey sandwiches.”
The man could make her smile. “You got it.”
He shook his head. “I would’ve been there sooner, but I made a side trip,” he said frowning. “If he hadn’t stopped for the flowers, this whole scenario might not have played out this way. Unlucky break.”
“Oh. Yes. I saw the daisies. They’re lovely. Thank you. I hope they’ll be okay till we get back.” In the warmth of his gaze, she blushed. “How did you know they’re my favorite?”
“They said Lake to me,” he said, bestowing one of those easy, open smiles of his on her.
Lake wondered, how did he do that—make everything in the world seem okay when he smiled? Her gaze lingered for a moment, until another smile, a stranger’s sinister one from earlier in the afternoon popped back into her mind. She blinked and looked away, reality crashing in on her again.
What should she do? Tell him? Would it put River more at risk? She prayed for guidance. Inwardly, she was still panicking and found herself greedy to stay in his presence—soak in as much of strength and warmth as she could.
It was then the realization flooded over Lake, that some prayers are answered quickly.
A feeling of trust swept through her.
She would tell him everything—right after the program at River’s school. They drove straight there. It was two o’clock, on the dot, when they slipped into the back of the classroom. The show was about to start. It was crowded, but Hawk rounded up a chair for her. River had obviously been watching for her and beamed when he spotted them, waving a little wave. One for Hawk, too, she noticed.
The exchange further cemented her decision to tell Hawk everything.
She was surprised her attention could be diverted from the past couple hour’s events, but the show was a lot of fun to watch. Hawk left to help with the animals. “Ranger Randy” was the friend Hawk was coming to town to help that afternoon. Randy Stewart was another GRRR team member. His “Ranger Randy” was a part time gig.
Lake watched as a parade of Montana creatures passed by the students. All the animals were rescues and unable to return to the wild.
There was the one-winged eagle, still majestic, whose existence had been forever changed by a sadistic shooter who was never caught. Ranger Randy explained that he had constructed a high perch on the reserve, out of a downed Douglas fir, that the eagle could kind of hop up and down like a spiral ladder, satisfying, in some part, its desire to scan great distances.
The big timber wolf had been rescued from private ownership. It was found years ago, starving, with a log chain around its neck. Now, it had peace on Randy’s little reserve, just outside of Harmony. The wolf was old, but still beautiful.
There were smaller animals too, like marmots and ground squirrels and such. River was transfixed. More than once, Hawk caught her eye and gave her a wink—both enjoying River’s enjoyment.
The hour flew and soon it was time to leave. River had another half-hour of school. Hawk helped Lake back to the truck. She checked his watch. She could have looked at the dashboard digital, but it was nicer to look at him.
“I’ll have to hurry to get that mess cleaned up.” She frowned.
She told Hawk she absolutely needed to pick River up from school today. He gave her a quizzical look, seeing as how the school was only a half-mile away, but he said he’d pick River up after he got her situated.
Then, tipping a look at her which broached no argument, “And like I told you, I’ll do the cleanup.”
She conceded with a relieved smile. “Okay. I’ll take you up on both.”
Lake noted Hawk was extremely somber when he came away from the clean-up task. There had been a ridiculous amount of blood for such a little cut. Good thing River didn’t see it. She explored his expression. Surely Hawk must be hardened to the sight of blood, especially being on the GRRR team and all.
He stood near the door and looked at her, searching her face.
Lake broke the silence, “You better go get River, but after he’s home, there’s something important I need to talk to you about. We’ll need to talk in the studio, though, away from River.”
Still silence, but her statement seemed to trigger a decision in him. He walked over to her and picked her gently up out of the chair, taking her weight against him, off her injured foot. His right hand cradled her head.
The hungry kiss that followed this maneuver was something that hadn’t been on Lake’s map. She wasn’t even aware this place existed. If she had, she would have been searching for it in earnest. Warm waves of emotion washed through her as they explored this new vista together. More than physical, it tasted of acceptance, trust, and placed a whole new horizon in front of her.
They parted breathless. She’d never seen Hawk smile, so wide. After a long look, he gave her a firm but too brief hug, and planted a kiss on her. This one, accompanied by a growl and placed smack dab in the middle of her forehead. He sat her back down in the chair.
“Hold that thought.” He winked. “We’ll pick up this discussion when I get back.”
***
As Hawk swung himself into the big truck to pick up River he was still feeling a surge of relief, well, among other things, he grinned. He knew Lake had turned a corner and made the decision to trust him. Trust. And that was a powerful thing.
&n
bsp; Thank You, he thought.
TWELVE
A Hawk Grounded
“L
ake! Lake! . . . Lake! Where are you?” River charged into the studio snagging the brass bell hanging on the door with his backpack strap, sending it on a ringing roll across the spruce floor.
Lake jumped up from behind her computer, wincing as she forgot and put weight on her heel. “I’m right here Riv. Slow down. Whoa . . . Whooooa. What’s the matter?” She hurried to intercept him, concerned. “What is it? You okay?” At his affirmative nod, she continued, “Where’s Hawk?” She crooked her head, searching out the window, hands on River’s shoulders.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! Hawk had to go. We were almost here and his phone rang . . . Only it rang like a dog growling and barking Lake. That’s how his phone rings. It was FUN—NY.” He saw her bandaged foot. “Hey, what happened to your foot?”
“I dropped a vase of flowers and stepped on the broken glass. It’s just a little cut, Riv. It will be okay, don’t worry about it.” Lake smiled at him and tried again. “Where is Hawk?”
His little brows knotted into a frown. “He said . . . umm . . . He said to tell you he’d call you.”
“What? Why didn’t he come in?” She hopped over to the window, foot throbbing. This didn’t make sense.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you! He had to go rescue somebody!” He could barely contain his excitement. “He’s gonna go help find some people. Up in the mountains.” He ran to the stairs. “I’m gonna go upstairs and turn on the TV. Maybe they’ll say something ’bout him. I’m gonna call Zach.” He raced up the stairs to the apartment.
“What did—” But she could hear that River was already in front of the TV.
Lake made it up the steps at a pretty good clip by holding on to the railing and hopping on her right foot, only using her left toes for a little balance. Her foot continued in throbbing mode, but that’s not what occupied her mind. She and River searched the local channels for news. After a couple of minutes–bingo. A breaking news logo flashed across the screen, followed by a local reporter.
