by Julee Baker
“Sorry. Ribs are . . . uhhh . . .” he puffed, “talking back.”
“Remember. I’m your go-fer. Rest your leg . . . and ribs. If you want me to get anything. Holler. Or . . . if . . . I don’t know, when you need to re-bandage, but if you need help . . . Let me know.” She offered, but frowned a little as she looked at his thigh, the bandaged wound obvious under the dark gray sweats.
Hawk tilted his head and even though pale, managed to produce his dimples at this. The deep voice had a mischievous edge, “Uh . . . Negatory on the bandage help. But thanks, I’ll manage. Actually, I’m lucky I’m not singing soprano.” He winced at the thought, then his grin widened, obviously enjoying her blush.
“I—I’d be fine.” She, answered, a little mad at herself for stammering.
“You think I was talking about you?” he asked, mercifully turning his attention back to patting Elle.
River came running back downstairs from exploring the loft.
“That’s so cool. Can I sleep up there? Can I?”
Hawk winked at Lake and gave the okay to River.
River went to Elle, who had plastered herself to Hawk’s side ever since he appeared at the door. River managed to coax her to play. It didn’t take much coaxing. She was obviously in doggy heaven, now that Hawk was home and she had a new playmate. Her little brother was enamored of the dog, too. They rolled on the floor, River laughing up a storm.
“Can I go outside with her? Does she fetch sticks?” River asked excitedly.
“She’s a great fetcher, but you’ll have to check with Lake.”
“Lake, can I?”
Lake hesitated. She needed to think about that, remembering Sam’s advice to be careful. Fortunately, she had time to think about it, since it was past lunchtime. The mention of food was usually a good tactic to distract a growing boy.
“Did you guys realize it is almost one o’clock? Aren’t your stomachs growling? How about I make those turkey sandwiches I promised you Hawk?”
“I’m starved. How about you Riv? Hungry?”
“Yeah, I am. Can I give Elle a treat?” He continued petting Elle, who, tail wagging and ears up, ready to continue their play.
Hawk’s laugh was indulgent. “Sure. I think she deserves a little something.”
Over the weekend, Lake had stocked Hawk’s fridge. They ate a lunch of turkey sandwiches with all the fixings and lemonade, around the coffee table with Hawk so he wouldn’t have to move from the couch. Conveniently snout level for Elle, she sat comically, watching every bite go to mouths, like she was watching a tennis match, licking her lips every few turns.
“You don’t happen to give this dog treats from the table, do you Hawk?” She smiled—already knowing the answer.
“What? Now, would that be proper manners? Hey look. Is that an eagle?” Hawk pointed out the front window.
River and Lake turned toward the front window and were examining the sky, when, the sound of smacking turned their heads back. From the ‘little boy’ innocent look on this face, Hawk had obviously slipped a bit of turkey from his sandwich to Elle.
They burst out laughing. Then River and Lake followed his lead and gave the lucky dog a treat, too.
“Enough, you big moocher. Now, go lay down.”
She obeyed Hawk immediately, taking her favorite place on the couch, while it was free.
The conversation rolled along easily, and after River helped Lake take the dishes to the kitchen, he asked again about taking Elle outside.
“If it’s okay with Hawk.”
Hawk nodded and suggested they stay in the clearing, just in front of the cabin. He would take a nap while they did. Lake thought the rest and quiet would do him good.
“I’ll go with you,” added Lake.
It was good to get outside and fill her eyes up with the beautiful Shadowhawk Ranch. She grabbed her camera of course. Elle proved herself to be a great “fetcher”. Lake couldn’t believe his little arm wasn’t tired from all the times he threw the big stick. Then he threw pinecones. Then he sailed his blue Cubs cap out into the meadow.
“River! Not your Cubs cap! It’ll get all slobbery and chewed up. It’s a long way to Wrigley Field to get another.” She called out.
“Oh . . . right.” He called back, retrieved and brushed it off, then resumed throwing pinecones.
Lake snapped some great pictures of them from her perch on the front porch steps. This was going to be terrific for Riv—for her, too. She enjoyed their lunch. Comfortable. And oh, how she enjoyed that ‘little innocent boy’ look of Hawk’s. He’d make some good-looking kids . . .
Ploink. A pinecone landed in her lap, followed by a big, slobbering mass of panting dog. They were gone in a flash, but River’s laughter rang through the meadow.
“All right you.” She laughed. It was a challenge to a game of tag, but her foot needed a couple more days of healing, so he was safe from her grasp—for now. Boy and dog frolicked then walked about the meadow. River poked at things on the ground with a stick. Lake could tell he was getting tired. She checked her watch.
“Goodness, Riv. It’s four o’clock.” Where had the time gone? “We’ve got to go feed Myron. Oh, and after that Hawk too, I suppose.” She kidded.
They hadn’t laughed this much in an afternoon since before . . .
They peered in through the front windows. Hawk was still sleeping. River proceeded to the door, but Lake lingered for a moment, watching him through the window, considering her growing attachment to him. Like a kid at a candy store window popped into her mind. She hurried to the front door. They tiptoed so as not to awaken Hawk. He woke up a half an hour later.
“Oh, wow.” He rubbed his eyes and stretched until his ribs stopped him. “Uhh . . . I was out like a rock.”
“It’s good for you. You need to heal.”
“I’ll be back to myself in no time. I’ve about had it with those things.” He kicked at the crutches with his uninjured leg. “It is great to be home.”
After dinner, River climbed up the steps to the loft and became glued to Animal Planet. Now was her opportunity to tell Hawk about her threatening visitor. She sat on the coffee table next to him. Maybe it would be best to start out on a light note. She lifted her still bandaged foot, resting it on the coffee table.
“Well, we’re quite a pair right now. I guess we won’t be entering any gunny-sack races in the near future.”
He laughed at that. “We’ll have to get you to the “Harmony River Round-up,” festival this summer, if you’re a fan of gunny-sack races. We should be more than healed up and ready for the sack by then.” His eyes sparked. “Want to be my partner? There would be a lot of training involved—” His fiery eyes danced with outrageous teasing, punctuated with a wicked, dimpled grin.
“I’ll consider it.” She couldn’t help her own grin from slipping onto her lips, but then narrowed her look and added a serious note, “I’m old fashioned though. I believe certain kinds of training require special licensing . . .”
They searched each other’s eyes for a moment. Hawk broke the silence.
“I realize that about you Lake—we’re not so different, you know.” He touched her cheek. Her heart started revving up and she frowned as she tried to pull herself back to the mission she set out on. He noticed her hesitation. Concerned, he asked, “Lake, what is it? What’s the matter? I’m sorry . . . I don’t mean to rush—”
“No . . . no. You don’t understand. There’s something I need to explain.”
He tensed. “I feel like I’m about to crash and burn.”
“No, not about us. It’s something else.”
Noticeably relieved, he urged, “What then?”
Lake turned ten shades of serious as she spoke of last Thursday’s intruder. If Lake turned ten shades, Hawk turned twenty. His eyes hardened at Colter’s new tactic. Anger didn’t describe it. A fire was building in him, worthy of his Gaelic namesake.
“I was going to
tell you when you got back from picking Riv up from school, but then everything . . .” She gave a helpless motion with her hands toward his body, from ribs to leg.
Hawk’s look softened as he brought his eyes back to Lakes and took her hand.
“Trust me. Colter and his goons won’t get near you or River.” His hand closed firmly around hers in reassurance as he added, “But I wish you’d told me right away.” He took her other hand and pulled her beside him on the couch.
“Trust me. Believe in me . . . I believe in you.” His fingers stroked her cheek. “Always.”
Lake nodded, unable to speak. This time, she leaned into his kiss—a kiss full of trust and hope.
FOURTEEN
Be Mine
A
s the result of a life spent outdoors and a strenuous physical fitness regimen, Hawk’s recovery progressed at, what the doctor said was a phenomenal pace—much faster than predicted.
Good . . . and bad, Hawk mused, as he watched Lake and River headed to the stable to feed Myron. They needn’t stay much longer. The past couple weeks had flown by. He’d soon be up to speed and able to do most things around the ranch, albeit in short episodes. In a couple days, he’d try riding Myron. He’d promise to River to give him his first horseback ride. It would have to be at a very slow walk.
The bruised ribs didn’t ache much anymore, and the past few nights he’d been able to lay down to sleep, instead of propped up on pillows. The leg wound had healed nicely. The bruised tendon left him with a slight limp, but it was improving daily, and it was a relief when he tossed the crutches aside.
He’d enjoyed walking around the place with River, laughing, talking, teaching him how ranches work—even a few wilderness skills. He’d never seen a kid so charged—except maybe when he was a kid and fell in love with the place.
River took over the feeding of Elle and Myron—with a little help from Lake. Totally loving the freedom of the ranch, he and Elle faithfully continued the daily search for the supernaturally elusive, Toes. The old raccoon, whose tracks appeared over all sorts of things. continued to be a phantom, allowing only one brief sighting, around dusk two days before. It was the cause of much excitement on River’s part and an abundant amount of barking on Elle’s.
“Elle’s ecstatic she’s finally found someone who shows the proper enthusiasm about finding that old raccoon,” he’d commented to Lake about the pair.
Though unaware, River was kept under careful watch. Hawk and Sam discussed the situation and decided someone trusted should keep him in their sights until they determined if the threat was real or bluff.
Suzanne made one visit, early on, her excuse—a coffee cake care package. Suz was delighted at seeing Lake and River there—if anyone in Harmony didn’t already know they were staying at Shadowhawk, nursing him back to health, they would by now. Never a fan of gossip, Hawk marveled at how satisfied he was at the idea of Suz having passed the news along.
Colter was still pursuing legal action with the trumped-up photos. Hawk spent the better part of one morning muttering at a pile of papers on the old, oak roll-top. He tried, but Lake still wouldn’t be budged from testifying as an expert witness.
More of that Scot’s stubborn, he supposed and smiled to himself. He’d have to get used to that. He hoped he’d have to get used to it. He tried to dissuade her, told her they could find another expert—to no avail. Which, lead him around to the idea of finding an additional expert, or two, anyway, for back up. Perhaps it would take pressure off her—and River, if word got out she wasn’t the only expert he had on his side. How many people did Colter think he could threaten?
He sat on the porch watching River and Lake, Elle at their heels, now leading Myron to the corral. Lake left her hair loose today and the breeze tossed it, glinting ebony and chestnut in the morning sun.
The last week and a half had been a real eye-opener. The ranch had always been awe-inspiring, beautiful vistas any which way you turned, but, with Lake’s arrival, it came to life with a warmth and glow like never before. Then, there was River. Hawk never knew to miss the energy and joy of having a child around. Now he feared, as he sat and considered his life on this gorgeous June morning, the ranch would forever lack something, a big something, when they left.
His eyes drifted to the top step of the porch. He and Lake had taken to sitting there the past few nights, soaking in starlight. Elle even permitted Lake to sit next to Hawk. He closed his eyes to savor the vision. That little scene could get to be habit forming—real fast.
How things could change. Not so long ago, he’d sat right there, thinking nothing could surpass the beauty of a starlit Montana night—until he’d seen it reflected in eyes of a certain captivating photographer.
Hawk poked gently at his ribs—barely a twang anymore. He was almost sorry they’d healed so quickly and teetered his grandpa’s old chair back against the log wall of the porch. Hawk knew his heart. He was no teenager. He knew what was missing—and he knew when a prayer was being answered.
But Lake had been through so much, he didn’t want to ask her to make an emotional decision she would later regret. Could she love him? Would she take the chance?
So, there he sat, teetering, off-balance. Not wanting to rush her, but not wanting to be without her, either.
He was pretty much fine. He’d have to give up the charade soon and let them go home. The show in Denver would be here soon. Maybe they’d stay until he left for that.
A brainstorm. Better yet, he’d ask them to come along. Yeah. That’s the ticket. Then, when they got back, he’d sound Lake out.
His thoughts were interrupted by Monica Barnes’s dusty blue pickup rattling up the drive. Lake and River waved vigorously as she drove by. Monica had been at her most neighborly since his injury, showing up with so much soup and meatloaf that he had taken to sticking it in the freezer. Thoughtful of her, though. Out here, neighbors still looked out for one another. She’d taken a real liking to Lake and River, too.
Today, from the tinfoil wrapping, it looked like more meatloaf. Hawk inwardly groaned, but thanked her.
“Cup a joe?”
“Don’t mind if I do . . . No. Don’t get up. I’ll take this in and grab a cup. Be right back.”
She appeared a couple minutes later with a steaming mug of coffee and a frown. “Looks like you’re out of all of that coffee cake Suzanne brought. I’ll have to make you another one.” Still tough at sixty, she nodded as she sat down in a chair.
“Monica . . . You’ve done too much already. Don’t go to any more trouble. Really.”
“No trouble.” She reached over and patted his knee. “No trouble at all. It’s what neighbors do.”
They sat for a few minutes, watching Lake and River go about the chores. Then, Hawk felt Monica’s keen eyes on him.
Her grey eyes twinkled at him. “Well, what do you know? Finally.” She laughed softly. “Fond of her, aren’t you? Could get used to having her around here, I’d be willin’ ta bet.”
He smiled broadly—he couldn’t help it. “More than pretty fond. Yeah.” He continued to watch Lake. “That obvious, huh?”
“She the one?” Monica’s eyes sparkled with the question.
“Cut to the chase as always, Monica. He might as well be frank. “You know . . . I think she just may be.” He turned to her. “Keep that under your hat for now.”
“Of course.” Smiling like a Cheshire cat, she turned back to Lake and River. “The little boy’s a cute one too . . . kinda reminds me . . .” Her voice trailed off in a memory.
“I’m gettin’ hungry, how about you?” Hawk prompted, mainly to pull her away from where she seemed headed.
Lake and River ambled back from the barn. After a little discussion, Monica insisted on showing Lake how to make Suzanne’s spicy, wake-you-up, “Cinn-a-morn” coffee cake. Monica explained she’d finagled the secret recipe out of Suzanne in exchange for her own, “Wildberry Pie” recipe.
Mo
nica and Lake went to the kitchen while Hawk and River headed for the living room. Elle raced ahead for her spot on the couch.
“You have cinnamon?” Monica asked as she opened cabinets.
“The spices are in here.” Lake pulled open a narrow vertical drawer, stocked with a good assortment of spices and herbs. She inhaled the pleasant mixture of aromas it released.
“Getting to know your way around the place pretty well, I see.” Monica commented with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile.
Lake’s blush answered for her.
After gathering all the ingredients, the hunt for a cake pan was on, to no avail. Hawk was sure he kept one in the cabinet beside the oven, and came over to help look. After much clanking, he gave up admitting he hadn’t attempted to bake a cake for so long, it was hard telling.
“It’s all right. I’ve got one at my place. I’ll pop over and get it. Be back before you know it.”
“No, Monica. Don’t go to that much trouble. We can have scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast.” Lake insisted.
“No . . . I insist. I promised to show you how to make Suzanne’s coffee cake. I never break a promise. I’ll be right back.”
Hawk shook his head at Lake’s look. He knew better than to argue with Monica.
“You want to ride along?” Monica asked River. “Give you two a little alone time, huh?” she asked with a chuckle and wink at Hawk.
“Can I Lake? Can I?” River pleaded.
Lake looked to Hawk. “It’s only a couple of miles to Monica’s, isn’t it? They should be back soon?”
“Fifteen minutes,” Hawk answered.
“I’m sure you two will put the time to good use.” The older woman’s eyes twinkled.
River was waiting at the door. “Can I, Lake? Can I?”
Lake gave in to his dancing pleading. “Okay. Okay.” Lake’s tone turned serious. “You can go, but stay right with Monica.” He was already out the door as she called after him to behave himself.
“I will. Promise.”
He scrambled into the truck and they were off.
