Make Mine a Marine

by Julie Miller

  "Hi." BJ shook hands first, and Sarah could tell this woman had a magic about her that drew people out and made them feel like a friend.

  Sarah succumbed easily enough and smiled in return. "Nice to meet you."

  "Ma'am."

  She hesitated only an instant before accepting Brodie's big hand. "Mr. Maxwell."

  And then in a move as natural as if he had done it a hundred times, Hawk shifted and slipped his hand around her back and rested it at the small of her waist beneath her hair. The connection he'd made through his eyes now seared into her skin through the gauzy cotton of her dress. His light touch provided a warmth that instilled its strength into her. Miraculously, her tongue untied itself, and the backbone she'd discovered when her trip was threatened returned.

  She didn't know why he'd reached out to her, but she appreciated the support in his touch. As if he'd read her mind. As if he knew right when she needed a hand.

  "Brodie and I served in the Corps together."

  "Marines?" she asked, thinking a military background explained a lot about his warrior like demeanor this morning.

  BJ took over the conversation. "These two go way back. I didn't meet Hawk until last year, when he helped me with…well, when he counseled me on…

  BJ paused and looked up at her husband. Sarah saw Brodie squeeze BJ's shoulder before she continued. "He helped us with a personal situation before we got married." Then BJ smiled again as though the dark moment had passed. She nudged a playful fist at Hawk's stomach. "We can't get this guy to the big city often enough to visit us."

  So Hawk was a rescuer by nature. Curious. Just what was it about Sarah that he thought needed rescuing? And why did he insist on volunteering for the job when she'd made it clear she didn't want him to?

  Sarah surprised herself by joining the conversation as if her alarm at first meeting them had never happened. BJ's polite inquiries and Hawk's broad hand flattened against her spine made her feel included. BJ and Brodie worked at LadyTech, a software company whose products Sarah used on the school computers. She had just asked BJ about a suggested update to a tutorial program when the gate attendant announced that their plane had arrived and would begin boarding soon.

  An immediate change came over the two men. Smiles evaporated and Hawk let go of her, leaving Sarah with a chilled sense of abandonment.

  "Sorry I can't go with you," said Brodie.

  Hawk shook his head and adjusted the duffel bag he’d slung over his shoulder. "You can't leave BJ now. She's due any day."

  Brodie nodded. He clapped Hawk on the shoulder and turned him away from the two women. Whatever they were about to discuss concerned her, she was sure of it. She inclined her ear to eavesdrop on their private conversation.

  "Kel Murphy has alerted his contacts in Tenebrosa. And I got a hold of Del Rio. He claims he's a little out of practice, but if you need anything, give him a call. He'll be there." Brodie handed Hawk a business card and the Indian laughed.

  "I've never known Rafe to miss a party."

  "Yeah."

  A soft touch on Sarah's arm distracted her. "Ignore them. They're always a bit overprotective. It's just their nature."

  BJ smiled indulgently, as if she thought having someone else take charge of her life was a good thing. Sarah felt trapped. All she wanted to do was see something of the world. All she wanted was to have some kind of adventure to fill her heart before she returned home and was resigned to small-town spinsterhood like Doris and Millie.

  Hawk seemed determined to take that chance away from her.

  "Flight number two seventeen to Mexico City is now boarding," the intercom announced.

  Everyone said their good-byes. Sarah adjusted her tote bag over her shoulder. When she straightened, she found Hawk looking down at her with that unreadable expression of his. She tried to plead her case one last time. "You have to go?"

  "I have to go."

  She nodded, accepting her fate, but not liking it. "Okay. But let's get one thing straight. I am in charge of this expedition. As far as I'm concerned, it's just a freaky coincidence that you ended up on the same flight and tour that we did. If you interfere with those girls' education in any way, if you scare them, if you so much as cramp their style, I’ll—“

  "I won't spoil this trip for you, schoolmarm." He voiced her true concern with deadpan accuracy. Before she could register any kind of protest, he grabbed her by the elbow and ushered her back to the security gate. When he bent to whisper in her ear, the most delicious sensations danced down her spine, along with an unnerving rush of fear.

  "But make no mistake. If anything happens down there, we go. And when I say to get your pretty little butt in gear, you and your girls better hustle it into overtime."

  Pretty little butt?

  Sarah felt her backside grow warm. Was it possible to blush down there? It must be the residual effects of him touching her. And looking at her. As if he really could see…As if he really might think…

  But no, it was just a figure of speech. A warning to let her know he meant business by going with them. Hawk was a rescuer by nature. BJ had practically said so. He meant nothing personal by his remarks. Nothing personal in the way he'd drawn her to his side and included her in the meeting with his friends.

  Besides, Walter had said—

  Sarah stamped out the memory without acknowledging the damage it had done to her. She stiffened her resolve and pulled away from Hawk's grip. She hurried on ahead of him, tossing her things into a bin and walking through the metal detector.

  She'd fought hard for this little shot at independence. She wasn't about to let some dark, enigmatic stranger dictate how she should live her life.

  And yet Hawk made it so easy to depend on him, to believe in his word. He made her think she could trust him

  Thank God they had five teenagers along on the trip to keep her busy and knock that kind of sentimental nonsense right out of her head.

  * * *

  Colleen, Lynnette and the other girls swarmed around Sarah, hanging on every word their teacher said as she showed them a map and talked through their itinerary. They bombarded her with questions, and she patiently listened to and answered each one. The girls practically idolized their precious Miss Mack. Did that mean they shared the same foolish tendency to rush headlong into situations for which they were totally unprepared?

  Man, that was a sobering thought.

  Hawk settled down in his seat a few rows back and tried to find a comfortable position for his legs, which were invariably cramped in the tight confines of an airplane. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep so no one would disturb him as he tried to tap into the inner wisdom that guided him.

  Returning to Tenebrosa wasn't something he'd want to risk with a crack team of soldiers like the operatives he'd been with the last time he was there. But to go in with a self-righteous schoolmarm and five bubbly, eager, moody teenage girls was like contemplating suicide.

  Not smart. Not smart at all.

  Hawk breathed in deeply through his nose and expelled the air quietly through his mouth, seeking his calm center. Five years ago, he'd sensed an evil on Tenebrosa. An evil that could turn a man's soul and destroy a good friend without leaving a trace.

  Even with his powers, he hadn't seen it coming. By the time he realized unnatural forces were at work, it was too late. Jonathan Ramsey was gone. Vanished.

  And he couldn't even find the body to take home to his grieving widow and daughter.

  Some power. Some soldier.

  Hawk rolled his neck, fighting to relieve the tension there. He needed to meditate. He needed to silence the drone of the plane's engines and the self-doubting mantra that blocked him from finding peace. He drew on the advice of his spiritual mentor, Otis Peace Hands, and tried to picture a totally different scene in his mind.

  The flat, treeless plains of Kansas were about as far from the dense tropical jungles of Tenebrosa as he could get. Mentally, he put himself there. A man standing alone in a barren cornf
ield, with nothing but miles of faded brown cornstalks and clear autumn sunshine in every direction. No place for the enemy to hide.

  Hawk breathed again, more relaxed this time. He imagined filling his senses with the dry, clean air of the vast prairie. Thoughts of Tenebrosa slipped away. The notion that he was setting himself up for doomsday again receded into a hidden part of his mind.

  He tapped into the resurgent strength of his spirit brother, the hawk, and soared high above the ground, looking for symbols to give him peace and courage. But other images, not of the spirit world, but of this earth, slipped into his dreams.

  Tawny eyes. The golden-brown bear of his vision blinked, and he saw Sarah's eyes. Hazel, really. But he'd seen enough gold amongst the green to remind him of his vision. Fine, beautiful eyes set in her pale oval face.

  She was of average height, yet she seemed like such a tiny thing. From the smooth span of her back he'd felt beneath her cotton dress to the slim, sinewy strength of her arms, she was a finely boned woman. Everything about her seemed slender, fragile, delicate.

  Everything but her mouth and her spirit, that was. The muscles at the corners of his lips twitched as he controlled the urge to smile. She could cut a man to ribbons with that tongue of hers. She was so prim and proper, with high-and-mighty ways that compensated for her natural shyness. Yet she didn't back down from a fight.

  On the surface she was feisty, and about as effective as a kitten spitting at a bobcat. But he'd glimpsed the woman beneath that shyness. He'd seen her stand up to Kensit. Stand up to a whole town. Stand up to him.

  She had more in common with that she-bear of his dreams than prim, proper Miss Sarah McCormick could possibly know. Even the color of her hair, cascades of golden brown toffee, reminded him of the Kodiak.

  Half dozing, Hawk felt the recognition tug at him, creating a ripple of unease in his meditative state. He wondered just how repellent it would be to Miss McCormick if she knew he was comparing her to a bear.

  And appreciating the comparison.

  Not to worry. He'd never tell her. She'd never be interested in his opinion of her anyway. Not just because she saw him as the bad guy in all this. Women didn't appreciate men like him, who could read beneath the surface of their secrets.

  He was revered among his own people for his mystical gifts, and native women maintained a respectful distance, as if he were some kind of demigod. And Anglo women…if they could see beyond the color of his skin that made him some sort of exotic plaything, they resented his gifts. Creepy. Uncomfortable. No privacy. Not right.

  He'd heard all the excuses. He could find and give pleasure with his body, but let his spirit get involved, let them see the inner man—and he was history. He could lie about who and what he was. Or he could be alone.

  He chose to be alone.

  With the peace he had sought completely disrupted, Hawk shifted in his seat again. He kept his eyes closed so that the flight attendants and other passengers wouldn't disturb him, but instead of meditating, he focused on the days ahead.

  Tenebrosa was the last place he wanted to go. But he had to. Whether she knew it or not, Sarah needed his help. The resemblance between her and his vision was too strong to ignore.

  He just wished he didn't feel as if he'd have to go to hell and back before he got Sarah and the girls safely home.

  Chapter Three

  "You see, Hawk?" Sarah's smile turned into a gloat of satisfaction as she watched the girls sitting around the campfire, enthralled with Luis Salazar's tales about the legend of Las Lagumas. "And you were worried."

  Hawk grunted in response without looking at her. His gaze continued its slow survey, a seemingly endless sweep back and forth that he'd started when they left El Espanto that morning and maintained even now when they were settling into camp for the night. She couldn't tell if he was studying the people on the expedition, or the myriad plays of shadows and light in the dense vegetation of the jungle surrounding them.

  Every now and then he stared into space, as though he relied on unseen eyes in the back of his head to give him input. When his dark eyes glazed over like that, Sarah looked around, too, spooked by his preternatural awareness. She tried to see what he was seeing, tried to feel what he felt. Yet she never saw anything unusual beyond a conversation among their guides or the darting movement of leaves in the undergrowth when an unseen animal passed.

  All day, she'd bumped along in silence beside Hawk as their caravan of three trucks jostled over a rutted excuse for a road on their overnight journey to the ruins of Las Lagumas. Mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds raised itchy welts on the side of her neck and on her bare forearms. When she tried to make a joke about her discomfort, Hawk dug inside his duffel bag without comment and handed her a stinky salve that she suspected would deter people and small animals, as well as keep the bugs away. The salve took care of the itching, but even her sincere gratitude couldn't put a dent in Hawk's stone-faced silence.

  By nightfall tomorrow, they'd be camped outside the excavation site. But her growing anticipation at touring the uncovered catacombs and pyramid and maybe even discovering an artifact herself was tempered by Hawk's strange behavior.

  She'd volunteered to ride on the last truck with him, since none of Salazar's men seemed comfortable around him. She didn't blame them. Hawk towered over them in stature. And today, in addition to his ever-present Apache-style headband, he'd dressed in lightweight jungle fatigues tucked into black military boots. He needed only a couple of swatches of greasepaint across his cheekbones to look like a guerilla soldier who'd just emerged from jungle combat.

  "And now I turn the details of the legend over to Antonio." Luis Salazar excused himself and slipped outside the center of the circle. His cousin, Antonio Robles, continued the story of the long-dead king with a lot of gusto and very little fact.

  "King Meczaquatl was a second-born son," said Antonio. Sarah tried to ignore Hawk's disturbing presence and concentrate on Antonio's version of history. "Because he could not inherit his father's wealth, he sailed across the sea to Tenebrosa, conquered the pitiful native resistance, and created his own kingdom."

  Sarah shook her head. Tomorrow morning she'd have to remind the girls to reread their textbooks and not rely on Antonio's romanticized view of history to learn about ancient cultures.

  "Señorita McCormick." She heard her name an instant before she felt the warm grip on her shoulder. She spun her head around, startled, but quickly smiled when she recognized Luis Salazar. "If I could talk to you for a moment?"

  Sarah forced her breathing back to its normal rate and stood, glancing over her shoulder at Hawk. "If you don't mind, I'm going for a short walk with…"

  There was no need for polite excuses. An unnamed shadow deep in the jungle had captured Hawk's attention. Feelings of hurt warred with her temper. She'd been overlooked and taken for granted a number of times in her life. But today she'd fought past her natural reserve and gone out of her way to include Hawk as part of the group. She'd endured his silence and defended his right to be there with her presence.

  And now he rewarded her with…with…Damn the man, anyway, for ruining this trip! Furious with herself for caring one way or the other what Hawk thought of her efforts, she linked her arm through Luis's and even allowed the older gentleman to pat her hand possessively with his own. Although his face had been weathered by the elements, Luis was nonetheless an attractive man, made more so by his old-world charm and deference to her as a lady. He guided Sarah outside their encampment, inquiring about her impressions of the journey thus far and going over the next day's schedule.

  After they'd left the reach of the campfire's illumination, the thick canopy of jungle vegetation shut out the remaining twilight. Luis switched on a high-beam flashlight and escorted her along a hacked-out path to a tributary several yards beyond where she'd last seen their tents. Once in the clearing beside the water, he turned off the light and allowed her several moments to soak in the untamed beauty of greens and golds ado
rned by bright shots of red and orange where exotic flowers bloomed. A symphony of tree frogs and wild birds and animals she couldn't name enriched the sensory overload. She shut her eyes and imprinted the images in her mind, storing them away to savor over and over again.

  "It is beautiful, no?" Luis asked, pride in his homeland evident in his voice.

  Sarah looked at him and smiled. "Beautiful and unspoiled."

  He tucked the flashlight under his arm, took both of her hands in his and bowed, brushing his lips across her knuckles. "We are glad to have such charming guests to share this with."

  "The girls and I are glad to be here." Sarah clenched the muscles in her arms, torn between the desire to pull away from his unexpected familiarity and her schooling in good manners. The man was, after all, following the customs of his own country, not putting the moves on her.

  Luis smiled down at her, the lines in his face crinkling all the way back to the silver-streaked black hair at his temples. "This man who is with you. Señor Hawk. He is not a teacher?"

  This time Sarah did pull away. So this little evening walk had nothing to do with her. When would she learn? She would never be anything more than a means to an end with men. One of these days she would have to wise up, or give up and just accept her fate.

  She stuck her hands in the pockets of her khaki shorts and told the story she had come up with to explain Hawk's presence. "He's a chaperon." Luis had asked that everyone speak in English to help his men improve their language skills. But he frowned as though the term was unfamiliar to him. "He's another adult, a parent figure, to help watch the girls."

  "Colleen is his daughter?"

  "No." Black hair and dark eyes formed the only resemblance between Hawk and Colleen. Sarah tried again. "He's helping me."

  "I see." Luis grinned broadly and nodded. "He is your man."

  "My man?" Understanding dawned and she hastened to correct him. "You mean my boyfriend? Oh, no. No."