Crouched beside her flower garden, she carefully sowed the seeds she'd had in the cabinet. It gave Falcon a sense of connection with her by watching her take pride in her gardening. The lyrical sounds of her humming danced toward him. He wondered if she realized she hummed an old Cherokee tune about love lost. No matter how cheerful she seemed now, he'd seen the sadness in her eyes when she smiled at him through her kitchen window. What had happened since she'd gotten home to make her feel that way? He wished he could bring the light back into her eyes and stop anyone from hurting her again.
"The plants will be beautiful when they grow and bloom. Won't they?” She looked at him over her shoulder.
He cawed his agreement. Anything she touched turned beautiful in his opinion.
She laughed and smiled at his response. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you knew exactly what I'd said."
If you only knew. I wish I could tell you.
Not being able to tell her the truth tore at him. She deserved to know how deep his love for her went. And after all these lifetimes, he deserved to be free. What he wouldn't give to have arms he could wrap around her. He'd love nothing more than the ability to pick her up, carry her to bed, and show her how much he loved her. He may be in falcon form, but he was still a man deep inside, and that man longed to get out and show Christina how well they fit together.
At last his beautiful Running Doe had been reincarnated into a woman of his people. This lifetime was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Unfortunately, it was his only chance to break the curse. It had taken all seven of her resurrections for her to find her way back to her people. It wouldn't be so bad spending eternity in his immortal falcon form if he could spend it side-by-side with the woman of his heart.
"I think that about does it.” Christina got up from where she knelt. Wiping her dirt-caked hands onto her grass-stained pants, she turned toward Hunter.
If her backside was delectable, her front certainly was delicious. Her T-shirt clung to her breasts in all the right places, making Falcon wish he had the hands to caress and mold them.
She sauntered over to where he sat perched on the birdbath, and stroked his feathers. “I hate to leave you, but I have to go inside and get cleaned up for supper."
He quivered under her sensuous touch. If only he could be loved and stroked by her in human form. He wanted—needed—to feel that once again. A sense of emptiness engulfed him when she turned away. After rinsing her shovel with the garden hose, she headed back inside the house.
Christina went into the kitchen and washed her hands. She loved digging in the earth. The cool soil helped her envision how life was back in the old days, helped her connect with her heritage. She watched as the dirt spiraled down the drain like time passing through the ages. Each time she visited the village, she had the same feeling of connection.
After drying her hands on a dishtowel, she placed the phone back on its cradle and headed upstairs to take a quick shower. Before she could reach the bottom step, the phone rang. Kyle. The mere thought that it might be him created butterflies flitting to and fro in her stomach. She hadn't looked forward to talking with a man in a very long time.
Running to the phone, she caught it before the second ring finished. “Hello?"
"Hey, Christina. I'm glad I finally caught you at home.” The smile in Kyle's voice clearly came over the phone. “Are you busy?"
"No, I'm not busy, Kyle.” She twirled her hair around her finger. “What's going on?"
"I was hoping you would be free this weekend. I'd like to take you out this time. If that's okay with you?"
She giggled like a schoolgirl. “I'd love to go out this weekend. What did you have in mind?"
He sighed through the phone. “How about dinner and then a long walk around the lake? The weather should be perfect for that."
"Sounds good."
He let out a long breath. “Great! I'll pick you up around seven, Friday.” He sounded relieved. Did he think she'd turn him down?
She wanted to jump up and down. “I look forward to it.” Excitement coursed through her veins.
He laughed. “I'll see you then."
The phone clicked when he hung up. Setting the phone down, she let out a small squeal and danced her way up the stairs to her bathroom to take a shower.
When Falcon Hunter first heard Christina's squeal, he'd thought something bad had happened or she'd hurt herself. Flying to her window, he was relieved to see her happily dancing toward the staircase. It lightened his heart to see her so happy. It was so much better than seeing her sad. I wonder why she's so giddy. He took flight and landed on her bedroom windowsill as she entered the room.
Christina moved over to the window where he perched. She raised the window enough for him to peer in. “I'm going to take me a quick shower, then I'll fix me something to eat and come out to the garden for dinner."
Falcon cocked his head at her and made a low noise in his throat. Watching her take a bath definitely wasn't a hardship. She strode into the bathroom and turned the shower on. Stripping her clothes off, she pulled the shower curtain aside and climbed in. Thank the Great Creator for see-through shower curtains! Seeing her sleek form silhouetted against the plastic made him quiver inside. It was so hard for him to not be able to join her in the tub. He wanted to be able to wash her with his hands and then take her to bed ... if they made it that far.
Christina grabbed the shampoo and lathered her hair, humming over the thundering stream of water. As she was blindly reaching for her washcloth, her foot slipped. Her scream echoed in the confines of her bathroom. She flailed, trying to regain her balance, and grabbed the first object she could get her hands on. The shower curtain couldn't even begin to hold her weight and gave way, sending her sprawling out of the tub. Her head bumped the side of the porcelain sink on the way down.
Falcon's heart stopped, and he screeched his fear for her. Ducking his head under the window sash, he climbed inside. Worried about what danger she'd put herself in, he shifted to human form and raced to her side. “A-tsi-ye-hi!"
A small trickle of blood dripped from a knick on her forehead. “Please be okay. I can't lose you.” Alarm for her safety clutched so tightly at his throat that he almost had to gasp to breathe. The dark tentacles of panic wrapped themselves around him as he struggled to keep himself under control. He gingerly dabbed at the spot with her washcloth to make sure it wasn't worse than it looked. A small knot began to form right away, and it was already turning blue. Leaning forward, he whispered his lips tenderly across her injury.
When he'd assured himself that she was still breathing, he picked her up and carried her to bed. Her naked form against his warm skin sent a hot wave of desire straight to his groin. He ground his teeth to hold back the strength of his need in order to make sure she was okay. Falcon smoothed her hair back from her face. No matter how many times he looked at her, her beauty still held him in awe. Her face was the spitting image of his Running Doe. Only her hair and eyes were different.
Her eyelids fluttered, trying to open. He thought he saw her get a glance at him, but that might be wishful thinking on his part. Falcon's skin prickled as the change to bird form threatened to come over him. Disappointment that he didn't have more time with her flooded his heart, only surpassing the relief that she was all right. “I love you, a-tsi-ye-hi.” He quickly flew to the window and ducked back outside.
Christina opened her eyes. Pain radiated throughout her head, and she wrapped her hands around her temples to try and block it out. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill over. Wincing, she sat up and looked toward the window. Her first instinct was to look to her bird for answers, even though he couldn't help. Was she really losing her mind? A vague memory of being carried to her bed by the hero from her nightmare surfaced. “Falcon Hunter?"
Christina eased her legs over the edge of the bed, giving herself time to adjust to the slight wooziness. Nausea roiled in her stomach. What if she had a concussion? “How
did I get in bed?"
If she didn't know better, she could've sworn her savior from yesterday had been in her bedroom. She thought she'd heard the man in her dreams talking to her. Her mind was so foggy, she couldn't remember what he'd said, but his voice had sounded so real. Chalking it all up to being delusional from hitting her head, she slid off the bed and carefully made her way to the bathroom, her hand over the lump forming on her forehead. Obviously, there was no one in her room. She must've crawled her way to her bed before she passed out. She grabbed a towel and finished drying herself off. On her way to her closet, she tossed the damp towel into the wicker basket by the bathroom door.
Putting on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, she trudged back downstairs to fix herself a tomato sandwich for dinner. But the mere thought of food made her stomach recoil. Rather than fixing herself something to eat, she opted for a glass of cola instead. Maybe she should take some bread to feed her falcon should he show up. She popped two acetaminophens and hoped it eased off the burning pain in her head, before going out to the garden to sit at the table. She was always more at home underneath the trees and surrounded by her flowers.
Her falcon flew from the other side of the house and alighted at his usual spot on the fountain.
"There you are. I was wondering where you had flown to.” She pinched off a piece of bread and tossed it toward him. “Are you getting hungry? You'll probably be off in search of dinner soon."
Christina rubbed her temples. The pain in her head was easing off, but it wasn't anywhere near gone. “Kyle called me today.” She smiled past her headache, remembering the conversation. “He wants to go out again this weekend. What do you think about that?"
The falcon gave her a hard look and cawed loudly twice. She didn't know if that was his way of saying that going out with Kyle was good or bad, but she preferred to believe the former.
"I can't wait. The weekend can't get here quick enough. After everything that has happened this week, I could use the break. Tomorrow and Friday are going to go by so slow because I'll be waiting for Friday night."
Pinching off a piece of her bread, she tossed the bird another bite. He pecked it up as fast as he did the first one. Christina stood to take her glass back in. “Well, Mr. Falcon, I hope you have a good night. I think I'm going to go in, read for a little while, call Nana, and then head to bed.” She moved toward her house. The quicker I go to sleep, the quicker Friday will get here.
As she headed into the kitchen, movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned in time to see her falcon fly past the kitchen window toward the other side of the house. “I wonder where he's going?"
She finished drinking her soda and put the glass into the dishwasher. After calling her grandmother to see if she'd come and watch over her and wake her every couple of hours in case she had a concussion, she switched on the answering machine and made her way upstairs. A scratching sound drew her gaze to her bedroom window where it remained slightly open. Her falcon sat on her windowsill, watching her as she moved toward her bed. She stripped off her clothes and climbed into the bed. Picking up her romance novel, she settled herself to read at least one chapter before she fell asleep.
In the silence downstairs, she heard a key being inserted in her front door then the familiar click of the deadbolt unlocking.
"I'm here,” her grandmother called from below. “Go on to sleep. I'll wake you in a couple hours.” The television switched on; the music to her grandmother's favorite crime show resonated from its speakers.
Christina smiled. Her grandmother never missed her show. Before she began reading, she looked at the bird one last time. “Goodnight, Mr. Falcon. Sweet dreams."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Four
It seemed to take its sweet time, but Friday finally arrived. Christina put the finishing touches on her makeup. Looking into her full-length mirror, she was pretty pleased with the results. The little black dress she'd pulled from the back of her closet fit her snugly in all the right places and revealed the perfect amount of cleavage. Her black heals enhanced her slender legs, making them look longer and sexier. The clock on the nightstand told her Kyle should be there any minute. Nervousness fluttered in her stomach. Smiling at herself in the mirror to boost her confidence, she headed downstairs to wait on him. She hoped he thought she looked as good as she believed she did.
Her nervousness got the better of her once she'd reached the landing downstairs, and she couldn't help pacing back and forth between the living room and kitchen. What if he changed his mind? What if he stood her up? Just when she thought she couldn't stand waiting any longer, the doorbell rang.
Christina took a deep, calming breath and swung the door wide to see a huge bouquet of roses. Kyle peeked around the beautiful flowers and smiled. “These are for you. When I saw them, they reminded me of you.” He handed the roses to her. “Wow. You look great."
Her face warmed with the compliment. “Thank you. So do you.” She took the roses from him, and their sweet fragrance seemed to envelope her. “They're beautiful. Let me go put them in some water, and I'll be ready to go.” She wondered why, when Kyle looked or touched her, she wasn't charged with electricity the way she was when Falcon Hunter touched her. Of course, he wasn't real. He was simply a figment of her imagination, therefore, the attraction wasn't real either.
"Come in,” she said, moving to the side.
As she went to the kitchen to put the roses in a vase, she chalked up her weird reactions to the fantasies of a long-deprived woman. As she filled her largest vase with water and rearranged the flowers, she leaned over and drew one last breath, taking in their scent.
"I'm ready now.” She smiled as Kyle took her hand and led her out the door. She glanced up to see her falcon watching them from the power line overhead as they pulled away from her house.
* * * *
Kyle got out of his Expedition and went around to open the door for her. She smiled as she eased her legs around, careful not to flash any skin she didn't want shown. Kyle's gaze roamed her legs as he took her hands to help her from his SUV. As they were about to enter the establishment, movement drew her attention to the trees lining the exterior of the terrace. Her falcon alighted on one of the lower branches, eyeing them as they made their way inside. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was playing chaperone or trying to protect her from something.
The maitre d’ found their reservation and showed them to their table on the terrace. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.” Bowing his head slightly, he turned and left.
Little white lights lined the terrace railing and lit up the trees, bathing everyone in a soft glow. The warm, summer night was perfect, and jazz music wafted out of the restaurant, creating a romantic atmosphere. The waiter seemed to magically appear at her elbow. “Welcome to Déjà Vu. My name is Marc, and I'll be your waiter tonight.” He handed them a menu and recited the day's specials. “I'll give you a minute to decide."
When the waiter came back, Kyle ordered them both a Chardonnay and a porterhouse steak for himself. Christina ordered honey-glazed salmon. Once the waiter left, Christina caught Kyle staring at her.
"What is it? Is something wrong with my hair?” She smoothed her tresses and ran her hands over her face. “Do I have something on my face?"
He gave her his hundred watt smile. “No. You're absolutely perfect."
"Thank you.” Her face warmed. Clasping her hands on the table, she said, “So, Kyle, tell me what you like to do for fun."
"Besides spend time with you?” He reached over and touched her hand. “I enjoy researching my family history. In what little spare time I have, I like to practice some of the old ways of my Cherokee ancestors."
Given the way he'd spoken of his heritage on their first date, that didn't surprise her. It was no wonder he chose the profession he had. She didn't have any trouble picturing Kyle participating in ceremonies or practices of the old ways. “What is it you like to practice?"
"Since my family descended from a powerful shaman, I like to practice that some. I'm nowhere near the powerhouse my great ancestor was, but I do have fun trying."
"That's so cool that you try to keep your heritage alive that way.” Looking down at their clasped hands, she willed the spark to take over, to feel ... something. Disappointment welled when it didn't come. Surely that wasn't because of Falcon Hunter. He was only a figment of her imagination.
The waiter reappeared with their food, and she slowly pulled her hand away from Kyle. Once the waiter left them alone, Christina ate in silence while she pondered why the sweet heat she'd experienced with Falcon Hunter wasn't there with Kyle. A little electricity had shot through her when he'd been at her house a couple of days ago, but now it was gone. What had changed?
She couldn't think of a single thing that was different, except for the fact that she'd seen her savior from the ladder incident in her dreams. And that's all he was ... a dream. How could something so minute as a figment of her imagination take away the attraction she'd had with Kyle? It didn't make any sense.
She looked up into the tree where her falcon sat. He cocked his head to the side and stared his all-knowing eyes at her as though he was trying to figure out what she could be thinking.
"What do you like to do for fun?” Kyle asked, interrupting her reverie and bringing her back to the present.
"I love taking care of my herb and flower gardens. I also enjoy visiting the reservation and being among the children.” It hurt that they were the only ones there to accept her for who she was. They didn't care if she was half white or if she was their healer. All they cared about was that she cared about them.
"I think it's amazing that you're able to do what you do. How do you deal with the prejudice against female healers? Doesn't it make you want to quit?” He took a bite of his steak.
She thought about his question for a minute while she ate. Was there ever a time when she'd wanted to give it up? Not that she could remember. “I can honestly say that I've never been inclined to quit. The stigma of being a half-breed female healer makes me want to strive harder to prove myself. I know in my heart that one day they will accept me.” At least she hoped they would. If they didn't ... she didn't even want to think about that possibility.
Falcon Hunter Page 4