Dance in my Heart
Page 10
He reached his tanned hand into his pack and retrieved a battered magazine. Tapping the cover, he smiled. “This is the best damn article I’ve ever read, Candy. And I mean that. It’s not just because I know you. I’ve never seen you write with such passion.”
Her heart wrenched. She didn’t think Justin had seen the piece she’d written. She almost hoped he hadn’t. Wiping the sheen of sweat off her palms with the knees of her blue jeans, she stared out the window pretending to study the multicolored neon of New York’s busy streets.
“Hey, babe. Look at me.”
She obeyed, but only because not doing so would raise even more questions.
“I know what it must have taken out of you to write what you did. It can’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“What happened to the hard-ass Cotton Candy Whistle-blower? You look like you’re going to cry.” Justin opened his arms and pulled her trembling shoulders against his thickly muscled chest.
She sniffed back the silent tears threatening to escape her eyes. Just how many tears was a person born with, anyway? She’d expelled more than her share over the past several months. She should probably stop hoarding them, she sighed.
Justin rubbed her hair and placed a friendly kiss on the top of her head. “Have you told him how much you love him?”
“What,” she gasped. Her head shot up and she stared at him.
“That social worker guy in your article. Have you told him how much he means to you?”
“How did you know?” Candice hadn’t told Justin anything about Hawk. The wounds healed slowly and she still couldn’t bring herself to talk about it with anyone. Not even Lynette had heard the full story.
“Come on, babe. I’ve been reading and critiquing your stuff since we were second years at UVA. You think I can’t read between the lines? Nobody writes the kind of stuff you wrote and not love the person. Hell, I knew you loved him by the third paragraph.
Taken aback, Candice felt her eyes widen.
“Now the question is, since you obviously haven’t told him, when do we leave for Minnesota?”
~* * *~
“Check,” Hawk called to Lonnie, tossing him the basketball and waiting for him to throw it back. When he did, Hawk dribbled several times before passing to Jake, who went for the easy lay-up.
“Two points, and the crowd goes wild,” he shouted.
Suddenly ransacked by the picture of a crumpled paper plate landing seamlessly in a trash can, Hawk paused in mid stride.
Would he ever forget her?
“Hey, I’ve gotta jet. I’m going to be late for work as it is.” Lonnie offered his closed fist to Hawk.
Hawk gently tapped the fist with his own and replied, “You better go then. Same time, same court tomorrow?”
“You bet.” Lonnie trotted toward his small house, where Hawk could see Beth waiting with his lunchbox and car keys.
“He’s come a long way, hasn’t he?” Jake’s voice swung Hawk around just in time to catch the regulation basketball his little brother tossed to him. “You up for some one-on-one? The rest of the guys cut out, too.”
“Not really, bro.” Hawk hadn’t felt up to much of anything lately. The daily pick-up games started over a month ago, and he forced himself to play for the sake of the kids. He still tried to set a good example, mostly to redeem himself for attacking Jeremy Cross.
He followed Jake toward their bikes, parked side-by-side a few yards away.
At least that part of his life had worked out. When the prosecutor talked to the bartender, the white man had claimed he didn’t see a thing, but remembered vividly Justin had been the only Native American in the bar that afternoon. And Justin Cross himself claimed to have fallen down the stairs. Everyone knew they lied. Carl Brandon had helped pull Hawk off an unconscious and bleeding Jeremy. But in the eyes of the law, with no witnesses willing to testify, and the prosecutor more interested in sending Justin away for statutory rape, no charges had been filed.
“Hi, Mike,” Mary called from across the street. Her belly showed the beginning of a healthy pregnancy as she and Jeremy Littlefeather walked hand-in-hand on the uneven sidewalk.
“Hey, Mary. You taking care of yourself?”
“Yep. It’s a girl. I found out yesterday.”
“Congratulations. How’s school?”
“Going good. I have a B in English,” she stated proudly as they crossed the street toward him.
“Good job. I knew you could do it.” With any luck, she still had a chance. She’d forgiven him for beating up Justin almost immediately. Since then, she’d enrolled in online high school and become one of his most ardent volunteers.
“I think I want to be a writer.”
A writer? Nothing could have prepared him for the impact of those words. Candice had certainly had an effect on everyone she’d met, and written about, since her time here.
But none more than him.
“Hey, you coming, man?” Jake revved the engine of his spider-theme custom Chopper.
“Yeah, I’m right behind you,” Hawk answered as he climbed on his Indian. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. You’re coming to the Pow Wow, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss a chance to see you dance, man.” Jeremy shook his hand before the two continued their walk.
He never knew when her image would haunt him, whose words would bring some terrible, gut-clenching memory to the surface. As he rode his bike down the same path he’d taken her, he could swear her arms encircled him.
He could still taste her.
He could still inhale her scent from his pillows.
He still loved her.
He turned the final corner to his house. A purple Mazda sat idle in the driveway beside Jake’s Dodge. He parked in the street to keep from boxing in Jake’s guest and climbed off the bike.
“I know you don’t want to see me, but I couldn’t stay away any more. I miss you.”
It couldn’t be.
He turned at the sound of Candice’s voice. His heart lodged in his throat and he swallowed. Hard. Her hair piled on top of her head spilled haphazardly over her shoulders. Lips made for kissing twitched under his scrutiny. Eyes misted with unshed tears pleaded with him to listen.
How could he not? She looked like a glass of water to a man dying of thirst. He craved her.
“I’m sorry for everything. I know I don’t deserve you after what I did, but I had to try.”
“I read your article.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d seen it.”
“Oh, trust me. Between Beth, Celeste, Jake, Jeremy and even Wiley Cotton, it was a bit hard to avoid.”
Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head, apparently confused by his statement.
“They each brought me a copy of Native Nations magazine as soon as it hit the stands.”
“Wiley Cotton?” she stuttered.
“Yep. He came to apologize for every slur he’d ever spoken and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Lonnie’s been working for him for almost three months, now, steady.”
Candice bit her lip to prevent her tears from spilling. When she quit her job at National Pulse Magazine and refused to turn over her notes and photos, she had no idea the impact she would make on the people she’d met. She only knew she couldn’t betray Hawk’s love. Even if she never really got it back, she had to do the right thing in the ruins of her heart.
“Why didn’t you publish the one you wrote first?”
“I couldn’t do something like that. I hated myself for the pain I caused you, and your people. I was too ashamed.”
“I’m glad you couldn’t do it,” he offered, taking a step toward her.
A slight quiver in her stomach told her to risk everything. The same force which told her to do the right thing three months ago. She listened, for the second time in her life.
“I love you, Michael Hawk Manone Irontree, and if you give me just one more chance, I swear,�
�� she choked back a sob. “I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”
He opened his arms and smiled. “You already make me happy, ozawahn weenessisee.”
She rushed to him, unable to conceive his ability to forgive and love. He took her lips in a deep kiss, his breath mingling with hers as he worshiped her with his mouth. Breathless, he pulled away and grinned.
“You quit your job?”
“Uh-huh. I write freelance now. That’s how the article about the spirit of your people got into Native Nation.”
“So you can write from anywhere?”
“Pretty much. So long as I have my laptop and a modem, I’m golden.”
“Can you write from bed? Because once we go through that door, I can’t promise you when I’ll let you go.”
“Hawk,” she chided him while her heart renewed itself with bursting joy. “You can’t think of anything else that might occupy my time in your bed?”
More books by Marjorie Jones Cooke
Writing as Marjorie Jones
The Jewel and the Sword
Medallion Press
Kindle Version Available Now on Amazon
978-1932815061
My Lady’s Will
Champagne Books
Available in Paperback and Kindle
978-1897261781
The Lighthorseman
Medallion Press
Kindle Version Available Now on Amazon
978-1932815450
The Flyer
Medallion Press
Kindle Version Available Now on Amazon
978-1933836225
Writing as Starla Childs
Dawn of Love
Champagne Books
B004GKMKV2
Dawn of Redemption
Champagne Books
B004GKMLHU
Words of Praise for Marjorie Jones
“The characters in this glorious saga are complex, fascinating and often reflect the desolate backdrop of the surrounding territory. Jones' story of love, loyalty and honor is nicely sprinkled with humor.”
Four-and-a-half Stars
The Lighthorseman - Romantic Times Magazine
Nominated – Best Romance from a Small Press
“Jones captures the overwhelming beauty of an underdeveloped country and creates fascinating characters in this stunning follow-up to last year's The Lighthorseman. The action, adventure, humor, romance and interesting subplots provide something for all.”
Four-and-a-half Stars
The Flyer - Romantic Times Magazine
Nominated – Best Romance from a Small Press
“Set against a colorful historical backdrop, this lively, entertaining medieval romance is a gift from debut author Jones.”
Three Stars
The Jewel and the Sword – Romantic Times Magazine