One Chance, Fancy

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  And that’s what we did. For the next hour and a half, I followed behind her a few hundred yards while she tried to scare up game from the ground for the hawk in the air to take down.

  It was on our second round that she scared up some doves.

  I saw the hawk’s head whip around and focus on the eight birds like a, well, hawk. Laser-focused and intent.

  But the hawk didn’t go after the doves, and that was all because of the woman that flashed a hand signal and a short whistle.

  The hawk dove like a missile, and moments later she was on the ground and tearing its claws into a rabbit’s back.

  “Holy shit,” I said.

  I hadn’t even seen the damn rabbit.

  Phoebe and the hawk had, though.

  “Most hawks have a tough time letting the most obvious targets go,” Sam said, stopping next to me. “From what I’ve learned, they’re very instinctual predators. But Birdie and Phantom have been doing this a long time. Plus, Phantom prefers rabbit.”

  With the bird’s wingspan spread as it was, it looked a whole lot bigger than the rabbit it was currently making a meal. But I knew that it was possible that the hare could weigh more than Phantom did.

  “It’ll take her another couple of minutes to eat,” Sam said. “Now let’s talk about something.”

  I turned to give the man my undivided attention.

  Based on Sam’s tone of voice—something I’d been trained to clue into due to it being something that was hit or miss for me when I was younger—I knew that he wanted my full attention. He also wanted to keep our conversation quiet because of Fancy being close.

  “Don’t break her heart,” he said. “If you don’t intend to do anything with her, don’t keep coming around here acting like you are today. She’s had a thing for you since she saw you that first time.”

  His eyes were a hundred percent serious in that moment.

  I also didn’t know what to say.

  For once in my life, I didn’t have a reply forthcoming.

  Why? Because I hadn’t expected him to say that to me.

  “Do you think she brings every random guy out here that thinks falconry is cool?” he asked. “This is our home. Our refuge. Her refuge. If you didn’t mean something to her, she would’ve never brought you here. Let you see this. Falconry is her passion. That bird is like a friend to her.”

  For some reason, the thought of her bird being her friend made my heart warm. “Red-tailed hawks can live up to twenty plus years in captivity.”

  Sam snorted. “You and your random ass facts. You used to do that when you were a kid, too. Dixie and I were talking about something random, something that we probably shouldn’t have been talking about where we were talking about it. And you heard the conversation and butted in with this ‘relative to its size, a tongue is the strongest muscle in the human body.’” He grinned. “Your dad had a shit fit, pissed as hell that his ten-year-old son had anything to say about the conversation we were having. Dixie thought it was hilarious, though.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and studied the bird that was still enjoying its meal.

  “My dad didn’t like me, period. I don’t think it had much to do with the conversation we were having as much as me just being near him in general,” I admitted.

  Sam’s face sobered. “I’ve noticed that.”

  Well, he’d be the only one.

  “Dad’s pretty damn good at hiding his feelings when others are around,” I pointed out. “But he’s made it no secret to me that he dislikes me for being different.”

  “Some people can’t handle different,” Sam said, sounding like he knew what he was talking about. “Others think they can and can’t. Your dad’s never been accepting of things changing his life, either. Not until it came to that girl.”

  That ‘girl’ being Brielle.

  “Yeah,” I rasped. “Brielle was his little girl.”

  Brielle was also different—just like I was—but got treated like she wasn’t. When I was younger, that used to hurt. Now, I understood. Brielle was the only living reminder of his best friend, and he’d treat her like gold.

  And that hadn’t changed in the years that she’d been with us. Still, to this day, when Christmas rolled around, Brielle had three times the number of presents that Hoax or I did.

  Phantom’s head popped up, did a full body shake, and then jumped off her prey.

  Fancy’s arm came up, and the bird launched itself at her.

  Moments later, Phantom was in place on her arm and Phoebe was walking toward us, a small smile on her face.

  “Amazing, isn’t she?” Sam asked, watching as Phoebe stepped over a log.

  Phoebe’s thighs bunched as she moved, and I found my eyes fascinated by the power in her legs.

  She’d changed into running shorts in her truck when we’d gotten here, and now every square inch of her thigh was exposed for my viewing pleasure.

  “Which one?” I asked, watching as Phantom flew over the tops of the trees while Phoebe ran below them.

  “Both,” the man at my side admitted. “But I was more talking about my daughter.”

  I snorted. “Yes, I figured that but I don’t like to talk about something unless I know exactly what I’m talking about—I dislike confusion and miscommunication—so I wanted to be sure.”

  Sam snorted. “You’re just like your grandfather. Did you know that?”

  Being compared to granddad, better known as ‘Dixie Normus,’ was a compliment on my end. To some, that might not be. But Dixie had always been one of my idols growing up. Being a grown man now didn’t change the fact that Dixie was an amazing man.

  “Yes,” I admitted. “It’s been pointed out to me before.”

  I didn’t see myself as being anything like Dixie, but I’d take the compliment all the same, even if it wasn’t true.

  “But, no matter how much I think of your grandfather, I’ll still kick your ass if you hurt her,” he said just before Phoebe made it to within hearing distance.

  “What was that?” Phoebe asked as she came to a stop a few feet back from where we were standing.

  The muscles in her arms were also on display, and I wanted to lick the line of her bicep.

  I glanced over at Sam to see his eyes on me.

  I nodded once, telling him without words that I understood, even if I didn’t agree.

  Phoebe didn’t want me.

  There was no doubt in my mind about that.

  Nobody wanted the fucked-up ones, and I was about as fucked up as they came.

  “Ready?” she asked. “I have to pee.”

  I snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Birdie,” her dad said. “You’re just lucky you found something as fast as you did.”

  “That’s true,” she said. “I guess I didn’t give it much thought as I was sucking back those glasses of tea at dinner, though.”

  “Tea that you shouldn’t be having if you plan to sleep tonight,” Sam pointed out.

  “Sleep’s overrated anyway,” Phoebe said as she moved in front of us, clearly much more in a hurry than either her father or I was.

  “Sleep’s imperative to life and staying healthy,” Sam said. “Just because you don’t get much of it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t try to sleep more, and do what you can to allow that to happen.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said as she started to climb up the small hill that led to the houses. The backs of her thighs were driving me insane. “As long as I get four, I’ll be good.”

  I frowned. “Four’s unhealthy.”

  She tossed me a mock glare over her shoulder, and I barely had enough time to lift my eyes so she wouldn’t catch me looking at her ass.

  Lucky for me, Sam’s eyes were on something else beyond where we were, or he’d have caught me, too.

  Jesus, I really needed to get my shit together.

  We made it to the top of the hill, thank God, and at this poin
t, Phoebe was practically power walking.

  My lips twitched.

  It was about two minutes later that we arrived at Sam’s part of the large compound.

  “Dad, while I’m inside, do you think you can take a look at my truck tire?” Phoebe stopped next to the mew that Phantom called home. “It’s leaking air, and I can’t find the leak.”

  “Yeah, baby,” Sam said. “Bring me out a cookie when you go in there.”

  Phantom went to the perch and her claws dug into the wood. Phoebe backed away and then closed the door as she said, “I’ll clean her mew out tomorrow. It’s getting dark now.”

  It was. A storm was rolling in, and I had a feeling that it’d be chasing me home.

  Phoebe took off inside, leaving me with Sam who was bent down looking at the truck tire under question.

  Sam crouched down on his haunches, going over the tire with his hands.

  “Check the backside,” I suggested.

  He stood up and bent into the wheel well, whistling at what he saw.

  “Not sure how she did it, but she has a piece of metal about two inches wide embedded into the inner wall. I’m gonna have to order her a new tire.”

  I winced. “Bummer.”

  “You mind giving her a ride home?” Sam looked over at me.

  I felt my heart skip a beat at the thought of having her pressed up against me for forty minutes straight.

  “I don’t have a helmet,” I paused. “But if you have one for her, then yeah.”

  Phoebe, who had just come out of the house with a handful of cookies in each hand, snorted. “I have a helmet.”

  “With you?” I clarified.

  She nodded and offered her dad the cookies in her left hand. “I keep it here with my dad’s bike, because I don’t normally ride with anyone but him.”

  He took them and instantly bit into one.

  “Then yes, I’ll give you a ride.” I paused when she offered me one. Not wanting to be rude, I took one. “Will you need a lift to work, too?”

  I wasn’t a big fan of sweets in general, but the cookies did look appetizing.

  I looked over at her father to see that he’d already inhaled two of his. And they weren’t small cookies. They were the size of my palm, so that was saying something.

  I took a hesitant bite.

  She thought about my question for a few long seconds. “Yes. But I work half a shift tomorrow, ten to four. I can get someone to take me over to my parents’ tomorrow evening to get my truck. We’re going to family dinner night.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I mumbled around another bite of cookie. “Then yes, I’ll give you a ride, to and from work. Then you can have your sister or Hoax pick you up from your place. When are you moving into the rental?”

  The abrupt switch in lines of thought didn’t phase either Mackenzie.

  “The boys and I will help her this weekend,” Sam said.

  The thought of her father’s men—though still fit—doing all this made me uncomfortable. They were all in great shape, but should they really be lifting shit from an upstairs apartment down a flight of stairs and into a moving trailer? Probably not.

  Not that I’d ever tell him that.

  “Then I’ll have a few men help out, too, if they can finagle it. Only two of them have trucks, though,” I said.

  “You don’t have a regular vehicle?” Phoebe asked in surprise.

  “No,” I shook my head. “I don’t need one.”

  And I didn’t. The day that I got a truck that kept me confined was the day that I was no longer wild and free—and being free was something that I required to stay sane.

  “What if it rains?” she questioned. “What if it snows?”

  “Then I get rained and snowed on,” I answered. “Plus, I live about a mile and a half from where I work. If I can’t get there on my bike, I’ll walk.”

  Sam started to laugh. “Just wait until you get old like me, then you won’t be feeling the same way. There are some days that I feel the cold in my bones.”

  I looked at him sympathetically. “When that day comes, I’ll revisit not having a cage then. Until that happens, I’ll just continue being happy to ride my bike wherever the fuck I want and not feel claustrophobic while I’m at it.”

  It’d never happen, but I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. It could.

  “Do you want another cookie?” Phoebe asked, holding up one more in between the space that separated us.

  I looked down at my hand to see that I’d devoured the cookie.

  “Umm,” I hesitated. It was a good goddamn cookie. I wondered who made it.

  “Here,” she said. “There are about eight more in the house I can go get. I have to go get my helmet anyway.”

  Then she was gone, and I was left staring at the cookie as if it was a foreign object from another land far, far away.

  “They’re oatmeal cinnamon,” Sam said as he wiped crumbs off his chest. “I wasn’t supposed to have sweets anymore, but once every couple of weeks Cheyenne lets me have some. Though she tries and times it with the days that she knows people are coming over here and can help me eat them so I’m not eating all twenty-four by myself.”

  I took a bite of the cookie. “I’ve never had oatmeal cinnamon before. To tell you the truth, it’s kind of surprising that I like them at all. I don’t usually care for sweets.”

  He looked over at me. “Count yourself lucky, then. When the doctor told me that I wasn’t allowed to have anything high in fats or carbs anymore, it was like my entire life was a lie.”

  I grinned. “I’d probably still be affected by that. I can eat my weight in cheese…which is quite high in fat. I can also eat yogurt by the gallon. Though I guess technically that’s a sweet. But since it has some health benefits, I don’t necessarily equate it with sweets. But tell me that I can’t have what I want anymore, and I’d probably be in the same boat as you, though less accepting of it.”

  Sam’s lips formed into a small smile and he shook his head. “It’s not all that bad. Cheyenne cleaned up her eating, too, making it easier to eat healthy. I didn’t realize just how awful I was eating until I started feeling better. Funny how diet affects stuff like that when you don’t even realize it.”

  “You’ve never been in bad shape,” I felt it prudent to point out. “Consequently, I’m sure it’s hard to see what you’re doing to yourself.”

  Before Sam could answer, Phoebe came barreling out of the house, a dog on her heels.

  “No, sit,” she called back.

  The dog ignored her and kept right on running with her, and Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “Daddy, your dog was trying to eat all of your leftover cookies.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes. “Sit, Beast!”

  Beast stopped mid-run, dropped on his haunches, and sat.

  I looked over to find Sam glaring at ‘Beast.’ At least I was fairly sure that was the dog’s name.

  “Thanks,” Phoebe muttered, hand stacked high with cookies. “I took the ones he didn’t touch. But if you tell Mom, I’m fairly sure that she’ll feel sorry for you and make you some more. You know you like them better warm anyway.”

  “Great,” Sam muttered darkly, narrowing his eyes even farther on the dog, who wasn’t affected in the least. “Your mother asked if she could get this goddamn poodle, and I have no fucking defenses when it comes to her pleading. Therefore, I said yes. The dog turned into the worst goddamn dog ever. He doesn’t listen. He eats everything that he can reach on the top of the counters. And he’s an escape artist. I had him in the garage when I left.”

  I looked over at the dog and thought he was fairly cute, however, that was about as far as my thoughts went on that matter. I didn’t like animals. And, the reason that I didn’t like them was that they required attention, and sometimes I wasn’t the best at feeding myself. However, a cat had adopted me, so I was having to be extra vigilant to keep the cat fed and watered.

  “Here,
I swear these weren’t licked. I made sure to leave those.” Phoebe held out two cookies.

  They were sealed in a plastic bag, and I wondered if I should chance eating one.

  Probably not.

  “Um, no.” I shook my head. “But thank you.”

  Phoebe looked as if she was going to argue, but Sam snatched the cookies from her hand. “You snooze you lose.”

  “Dad!” Phoebe admonished, trying to reach for the bag. “If he doesn’t want them, I do!”

  Dad shook his head. “Go get some of your own. These are possibly contaminated.”

  I found my lips forming into a small smile as I watched them argue.

  Eventually Phoebe won by rolling her lip over in an adorable pout that I might’ve even given in to.

  “Fine,” he snapped, thrusting the cookies back at her. “But you owe me. You damn well know that she won’t make me more, and it was probably you that let the dog out of the garage in the first place.”

  Phoebe didn’t deny it, which meant Sam was probably right.

  “Whatever,” Phoebe muttered. “Love you, Daddy.”

  Sam wrapped his arms around his daughter and I chose to walk to my bike.

  I mounted it while Sam was whispering something in her ear, and then really thought about what I was about to get myself into.

  I wasn’t a touchy-feely person, but the idea of Phoebe touching me was quite appetizing, even if it made my heart race.

  Then she was there, standing beside my bike, staring at me.

  I held out my hand, guessing that was what she wanted, and leaned forward to allow her room to swing her leg over. Which she did in the next second.

  And, all of a sudden, just like that, Fancy was the first person ever to ride on my bike with me.

  Chapter 7

  Apart from being financially unstable, nearing a mental breakdown, and being fat, everything is great.

  -Phoebe to Pru

  Phoebe

  I wasn’t sure how this continued to be a thing for us, or why, but I was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  I wasn’t even the one to initiate the dinner we were currently having, he was.