Hawk: The Boys of Summer #4

by Heidi McLaughlin

  The sky is as black as can be and the only illumination is coming from the barn. If I strain, I can see shadows moving around, and I can definitely hear muffled voices. Around here, work starts before the sun rises and ends after sunset. The days are long, often cold, and can drag on during the summer. Some of the people that work here have done so for years. My parents do their best to keep their employees happy but working on a ranch is hard work and not for the faint of heart.

  As I did the day before, I decide to take Cadbury out for another ride. It’s not always the wisest to ride off under the cloak of darkness, but it’s really the only time I can clear my head. After I dress, I head downstairs and find my mother sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Morning,” I say as I enter the room. On the table is a breakfast spread of sausage, eggs, biscuits, and gravy. Instead of eating, I pour myself the last cup of coffee in the pot and proceed to change and fill the filter with new grounds and the reservoir with water. I’m not about to have my dad or anyone else yell at me for taking the last cup.

  I look over at my mom, she’s tired. “Are you feeling okay?” I don’t know why that’s the first thing I ask my mom. My parents work hard, my father harder than anyone I know, and I know they’re getting older, which scares me. I’ve suggested retirement but know my father would rather ride off into the sunset than stop working, and my mom will do whatever her husband suggests.

  She smiles softly, picks up her mug and takes a sip of her coffee. After she sets it back down, she rests her hands on the table. “I’m feeling fine and so is your father. I just worry, sometimes.”

  “About what?” I place my hand on top of hers. If they’re in financial trouble, I want to help.

  “About my children. My grandchildren. The ranch. Your father.”

  “What’s there to worry about?”

  She doesn’t answer but gets up from her place at the table and walks around me to pick up a plate. She starts loading it with food and finally sets it down in front of me. “Eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “I don’t care, Hawk. You didn’t eat yesterday, minus whatever fast food place you stopped at on your way to therapy, not to mention the pizza you had last night with your nephew, which you can’t survive off despite what you may think.”

  “Hey, I’ve spent a great many years eating pizza. Look at me, I’m fit.” I use my left hand to tap my abs, which I’m afraid to admit could use some work.

  Her coffee cup is back in her hand and she eyes me before taking another drink. “According to Elizabeth, Nolan declared yesterday to be the best day of his life.”

  “That’s a little sad considering we didn’t do much other than toss the ball around and go out to dinner. Really, Ma. They have to let him be a boy before time passes him by.”

  “I’ve said as much to your sister. I should warn you though, she fully intends to ask you what you’re doing with Bellamy Patrick.”

  My eyebrow raises and I ask my mom, “Why? Is there something wrong with Bellamy?”

  She chuckles. “Not that I’m aware of. According to Elizabeth, Nolan talked non-stop about the four of you having dinner and your sister being your sister is probably reading into things.”

  “Probably, is an understatement.” I dig into my food and take a few bites before putting my fork down. “I met her yesterday and ran into her again at dinner. Not much more to tell.” I can’t look my mom in the eyes when I say there isn’t more to tell because tonight, I have dinner plans with Bellamy and I’m very much looking forward to seeing her.

  I eat rather fast so I can get outside and away from the heavy gaze of my mother. She’s watching me, waiting for me to spill my guts, and I will — just not right now. I wash and stack my plate, kiss her on the cheek and tell her that I’ll be around but not home for dinner.

  “Tell Bellamy I said ‘hi’,” she says as I step outside. I turn to find my mother smiling. She gives me a little finger wave and starts to giggle. In the barn, a couple of the ranch hands are busy working, mucking out the stalls.

  “Morning, Mr. Sinclair.”

  “Morning, guys. I’m going to take Cadbury out for a bit.”

  One of them drops his shovel and walks over to her stall and is kind enough to saddle her up for me. I did it yesterday, but it was hard with one hand, even if I did cheat a little bit. I know I need to let my shoulder rest, but it’s against my nature to be idle.

  “Have a good ride, sir.”

  “Thanks,” I say as I mount the mare. One little tap of my heels into her sides and we’re trotting our way out of the barn. She neighs as we walk past one of the stallions, causing me to laugh. “Cadbury, are you flirting?” I give her a good pat and direct her to where I want her to go.

  I’m about to push Cadbury into a full gallop when Warner calls my name. He trots up next to me, “Where ya headed?”

  “Nowhere in particular. Do you need something?” Not that I can do much for him and if he only wants to complain about his son, I don’t want to listen.

  “I’ll ride with you.”

  Lovely.

  We start off in silence, which I’m fine with. Warner may have been around a lot when I was growing up, but we were never friends. I always saw him as the clinger who chased after my sister. He’s good to Elizabeth though, so I can’t complain too much about him.

  “Nolan had a great time yesterday.”

  “Good, I’m glad.” I wait for him to add something sarcastic.

  “I’d let him play—”

  “But?” I interject.

  Warner sighs. “But there’s a lot of politics in town and I don’t want Nolan part of that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look, your sister has wanted to tell you, but I’ve told her to keep you out of it.”

  “Out of what, Warner?”

  “You know I’m not a sports guy and I’ve made it clear that I want Nolan working on the ranch, but I’m not a piece of crap father either. Elizabeth signed Nolan up for try-outs twice. We never got a call telling us when to go along. Next thing we know, teams are set and he’s not on any of them.”

  I have a very sick feeling in my stomach as he tells me this. First, David hints that the Little League program isn’t on the up and up and begs me to coach, then last night, Bellamy glosses over the drama that’s going on, and now my brother-in-law tells me this. Thing is, I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t worry about how the program is run, whether it’s fair or not. But I do, and the more and more I think about it, the more pissed off I become at Brett Larsen.

  “What the hell is going on in this town?”

  “Corruption,” he states so matter-of-factly that I know he’s not lying. “New mayor. He’s young, wants to see corporations coming in to bring in jobs. He runs some scam, although no one can prove it yet. Buys up property for himself and then within a year or two, the buildings are destroyed by fire. He collects the insurance money and sells the lot for cheap and always to some city corporation. By the end of the year, we’ll have a new pharmacy, restaurant and gas station — all national chains — right along Main Street.”

  “That’s not what Richfield stands for.”

  “Nope, it’s not, but the Richfield you remember doesn’t exist. Hell, the people we went to school with aren’t even friends with us anymore because we don’t play their silly little games. Maybe we should because it messes with Nolan . . . the kids are bullies and their parents don’t care because they’re bullies themselves.”

  “Nolan not getting a call for try-outs doesn’t make sense.”

  “Sure, it does,” he says. “You screwed Annie Miller and her husband has never forgiven you.”

  “They weren’t together.” I remind him.

  “To him, I don’t think that matters.” He sighs heavily. If Brett Larsen is still holding a grudge, he needs to take it up with me, not my family. It’s that simple.

  We ride for a bit and I tell him about the land that’s going up for sale. It abut
s my father’s property, giving him the ability to expand, but Warner isn’t so sure. I’m certain it’s a money issue, which means I’ll write a check. If my father never does anything with the land, so be it, but I’d rather him own it then have some superstore go in and contaminate the land.

  Warner and I don’t say much on the way back. He talks some more about my sister and how much he loves her, but that she drives him crazy sometimes. I agree with him. She’s a handful. But, when we get back, she’s there waiting for him, just as she’s always been. I leave the love birds and return Cadbury back to the ranch hand to take care of for me. I need to shower and head into town. There’s a little political game being played, and I want to get to the bottom of it. Besides, it’s a good way to avoid any questions from my sister about Bellamy.

  Sixteen

  Bellamy

  “Whoa, hot date later?” Karter greets me at the door with a cup of coffee and what I’m taking as a compliment.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She’s hot on my heels, following me to my desk. I drop my bags and take a seat in my chair. “You’re staring.”

  “You did your hair.”

  I roll my eyes. “I do my hair every morning.”

  She eyes me suspiciously and grins. “Could this have anything to do with you having dinner with a very eligible bachelor last night?” The second she asks this, I start to blush and turn away, pretending to be interested in something on my desk, but I know she’s already caught on. I do have a date . . . sort of. If you call said bachelor coming over later with steaks to grill a date. Sadly, I’m so behind on today’s trends, I don’t know what to call it other than dinner . . . at my place . . . to which he invited himself. I couldn’t have said no if I tried. He’s mesmerizing, intriguing, and he took an interest in my son before he even knew me.

  “How’d you hear about last night?” I ask her.

  “You’re the talk of the town. I swear, that’s all I’ve heard about since I stood in line for coffee this morning.”

  “Okay, but what exactly did you hear?” The only person I told was my mother. Unless it was Annie, although I don’t see her being a blabber mouth.

  “That you and Hawk, the Hottie, we’re having an intimate dinner together.”

  “At the Depot . . .” I point out. There isn’t a single romantic vibe to a family pizza parlor. “Besides, Chase and Hawk’s nephew were there. Not sure how intimate dinner can be over pizza and salad with two kids around.”

  Instead of sitting across from me, Karter sits on the edge of my desk. I want to ignore her and pretend she’s being ridiculous, but I also want to tell her everything. How we spent hours just talking, and how I can’t wait to see him again tonight.

  “Don’t,” she says, out of the blue.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Fall in love.”

  I wave her off. “Seriously, Karter? We had pizza with the boys.”

  “Yes, but I see that dreamy look you have in your eyes. I get it, Hawk’s good-looking. He’s kind, sweet, and very generous. But he lives in Boston and rarely returns to Montana. In fact, my mom says the only reason he’s here is because of his shoulder injury.”

  “His mother insisted he come home,” I interject. “I know this, Karter. He told me.”

  “Oh.” Which is probably the least she’s ever said in her entire life. “Before I forget, an Adrienne Hubbard called here looking for you.”

  Adrienne Hubbard and I used to be best friends until I divorced Greg. Her husband, Robbie, is best friends with my ex and when a divorce happens, it tends to divide friendships, too. I cried harder over losing her than I did my ex. “Did she leave a number?”

  Karter shakes her head. “Sorry, said she’d call back. New client?”

  “No, old friend.”

  My phone chimes with an email alert. Instead of reading it on the tiny screen, I boot up my laptop. It’s my plan to work in the office today, to follow up on leads, check in with some clients who haven’t made decisions yet and prepare a couple of listings. Honestly, I want to stay in here and avoid running into Hawk. There’s no reason he’d need to come in, even if I do have a price for him on that piece of land.

  Karter goes back to her office after she asks if I want to make plans for lunch. I tell her I do and get to work. Once my email is open, I’m on the phone with the landowner, discussing his options. He keeps saying he wants to “stick it to Larsen” and while I couldn’t agree more, there are certain steps that have to be taken.

  “Mr. Longwood, are you positive you didn’t give Surge, LLC or Brett Larsen permission to store on your land?” It doesn’t matter what he says, I will have to go and do some research in the clerk’s office for a possible filing pertaining to this issue. To prove adverse possession can be difficult and I have a feeling because it involves Brett Larsen, it’s going to be an uphill battle.

  “I’ve done no such thing. That man keeps piling his product on my property.”

  “I know, sir. He’s been doing it for years and the law may be on his side.”

  “It’s not,” he tells me. “Six months ago, I went to court and they issued an injunction.”

  A big smile spreads across my face. This is perfect. Of course, Larsen thought he was above a court order. “Well this is very good news. So, Mr. Longwood, how much would you like to sell the property for?”

  He gives me very strict stipulations, most of them involve Larsen and how if he’s interested, he needs to make an offer, which I’m not to accept. This is a dangerous game, but Mr. Longwood is adamant that Surge, LLC — or anyone who has anything to do with Brett Larsen — do not buy his land. Challenging, but doable, especially if I can get Hawk to buy it.

  As soon as I hang up, Karter rings my phone to tell me I have a call on line one. I don’t bother asking her who it is because there’s a good chance she didn’t ask. It’s not her job to screen our calls, but the front desk gal seems to be on an extended leave.

  “Bellamy Patrick.”

  “Bellamy, it’s Gregory.” Gregory. Back when we were together, he was Greg. Fun loving, chill Greg. Now he introduces himself as Gregory and expects everyone to refer to him as such. It makes me want to puke.

  I want to groan loudly, be rude, and hang up on him. I don’t, but I don’t say anything either because I really don’t feel like speaking to him.

  “Hello, are you there?”

  “Yep.”

  “I expected you to call me after you had dinner with Brett.”

  I roll my eyes. “I expect you to visit your son, pay child support on time, and be a parent. Seems neither of us are having our expectations met these days.”

  “Bell, I don’t have time to get into this with you. When is Chase’s first game?”

  “Why? Are you actually going to come to Richfield to watch or do you expect me to have some sort of live video stream going so you can say you were present?”

  Greg sighs heavily. “Why is everything an issue with you?”

  “I don’t know, Greg. You tell me.”

  “I’m trying here.”

  “Try harder,” I tell him. “Get in the car and come here on the weekends. Make arrangements to see your son. Respect his wishes and keep the new wife and daughter at home. He wants to spend time with this dad, not your new family.” I’m worked up, angry. My teeth are clenching so hard that I’m giving myself a headache.

  “That’s not fair—”

  “You don’t get to talk about what’s fair, Greg,” I seethe into the receiver. “You left your son without looking back. I don’t care about what you did to me and our marriage, but your son . . . you walked away from him without a second thought. He has every right to ask that you visit him and not bring your family. The longer you stay away, the worse off your relationship is going to be with him.”

  There’s a long pause where Greg and I are both just breathing into the receivers. He finally clears his throat. “I’d like to see Chase. Can we meet halfway?”

&
nbsp; As much as it pains me to agree, I do, because it’ll make my son happy. “Yes, we can do that. When?”

  “What’s his schedule like?”

  I inhale deeply, unprepared for this end of the conversation. “Chase isn’t playing baseball, Greg. Your friend . . .” I choke on the word before finishing my thought. Greg and Brett are alike in a lot of ways, I should’ve seen that earlier. I contemplate what I should say next. If I tell my ex the truth, he won’t believe me or find some way to twist it around, and it’s just not worth it. So, I lie. “There wasn’t any room on the team, but Chase has been working out with a coach so next year things will be different.”

  “Who’s the coach? Do I know him?”

  “Nope,” I say, shaking my head even though he can’t see me. “Local guy who used to play in college. He’s helping out.” Just as those words come out of my mouth, the door chimes and Hawk walks in. Our office is open concept, except for Karter’s office, so he sees me right off and smiles bashfully. He’s dressed similarly to yesterday with jeans, white t-shirt, his long-sleeved flannel half-way unbuttoned, and a baseball cap. He saunters toward me, keeping the same expression on his face, and when gets to my desk, he tips his hat toward me.

  “Hello, Bellamy?” Greg yells into the phone. I catch myself staring and turn away.

  “Uh, what?”

  “Saturday works for you, right?”

  I bring my laptop to life and pull up my calendar. “Yeah, that’s fine. What time and where?” He decides we’ll meet at the mall that’s about halfway between both of us so I can shop while he spends time with Chase. The line goes dead. I hold the phone at my ear until I hear the dial tone before slamming it down onto the cradle.

  “Do you need me to come back?”

  For a moment, I forgot Hawk was there, and now I realize he’s seeing my mini hissy fit. Great. I take a couple of deep, calming breaths and turn back toward him. He’s sitting. When did I miss that he sat down?

  “Sorry, that was my ex.”

  “Ah,” he says, as if he knows everything.