Hawk's Way: Rebels

by Joan Johnston

  Now Mrs. Wright was dying of cancer. Colt knew what that meant. Hair falling out from chemo therapy. Frail limbs. Eyes dead long before the body was. He had seen too much of it at Camp Little Hawk. Enough to know that it hurt desperately to like—let alone love—someone who was ill and who might or might not survive another week, another month, another year.

  The only thing that could make him go inside Jenny’s house right now was the knowledge that he would get to spend time alone with her. They would probably talk and maybe laugh together. That possibility was worth having to share Jenny’s pain as she tended to her dying mother.

  But Huck had said Jenny was feeding the little ones. Colt was the baby in his family, but he figured he could probably manage whatever Jenny asked of him.

  Colt knocked on the door, said, “Jenny, I’m coming in,” and let himself inside. He immediately took off his Western straw hat and stood still inside the screen door until his eyes adjusted to the darker room. When he could see, he found Jenny staring at him, her jaw hanging open.

  “Colt. What are you doing in here?”

  “Huck thought you might need some help.” He clutched the hat against his chest feeling foolish, but said, “Here I am.”

  She smiled, and he knew it was going to be all right. He looked for a place to hang his hat, but didn’t see anything.

  “Put it on top of the refrigerator,” she said. “That way Tyler and James can’t get to it.”

  He looked at the baby sitting in the high chair before her and the older child sitting in a youth chair next to him. “They seem pretty well lassoed,” he said, but he put the hat where she told him, anyway.

  She gestured him toward her. “This is Randy,” she said, sticking another spoonful of something gross looking in the baby’s mouth, “and next to him is Sam. Tyler and James are playing in their room.

  “Here. You can take my place.” She rose and handed Colt the baby spoon and the open jar of baby food. “Randy loves peas.”

  Colt took one look at the contents of the jar and nearly gagged. “This doesn’t look edible.”

  Jenny laughed, and he felt his whole body go still at the sound. “Don’t tell Randy. He eats it like it was green ice cream.”

  Colt sat in the chair she had vacated and aimed a spoon of peas in Randy’s direction. When his mouth opened, Colt shoved it in, and Randy cleaned it off. “He’s a human vacuum cleaner!”

  “He’ll probably end up as big and tall as my dad,” Jenny said as she set a plate of more recognizable food in front of Sam. The music had gone out of her voice by the time she got to the end of her sentence.

  “Where is your dad?”

  “He left,” she said, her eyes focused on Sam. “Took off when Mom got sick the second time.”

  “I’m sorry, Jenny. I didn’t know.”

  She tried to make light of it. “Can’t really blame him. It isn’t pretty to watch someone die. He loved her very much, you know.”

  Colt couldn’t believe how matter-of-factly she was speaking about such a tragic situation. “It must be hard for you and your mom to get along on your own.”

  Her chin came up, and she looked at him with her in credible blue eyes. “We manage.”

  He heard her message loud and clear: Don’t feel sorry for me. He admired her gumption. But what choice did she have? She wasn’t old enough to leave home and get a job. Where would she go? He realized now why she had been so worried about being left behind by Huck.

  “Good thing you have so much help around the house,” he said. “All those brothers, I mean.”

  “I’m the eldest,” she said. “Tyler is ten, James is nine, Sam is five and Randy will be one in a couple of months.”

  “Who takes care of them when you’re in school?”

  “Mom has a sister who takes care of her during the days and keeps an eye on the little ones. I pick up the slack at night and give Aunt Lenore a rest.”

  Colt caught her glance for a moment and saw a sort of desperation he had often felt himself. A yearning to be free to follow your own path, to see the world, to explore to your heart’s content. And the knowledge that destiny—or your parents or family—had other plans for you.

  He had thought Huck was the only impediment to having Jenny. He saw now what the future held for her as well as she probably saw it herself. Unless she ran away, and he did not see Jenny as the kind of person who ran away from anything, she would be tied to her family until the boys were grown.

  Huck would leave her behind when she couldn’t go with him, because Huck would never under stand why she couldn’t go. Colt under stood, though. It was the same reason he might never fly jets. Because she couldn’t bear to hurt her family to please herself. As he could never bear to hurt his.

  Colt wanted to tell her that he under stood. That he knew what she faced. That he would be there for her, even if Huck wasn’t.

  What if you get a chance to fly jets? an inner voice asked. Would you stay and work at Hawk’s Pride just to be near Jenny?

  Colt was glad he didn’t have to make that kind of decision for four years. He would be here for her now. Even though she was Huck’s girl. And might always be.

  JEWEL, PATTY AND GAVIN WERE sitting in the sand at the bottom of a canyon with eleven campers, pencils and notepads in hand, sketching the primitive art etched on the stone canyon wall that rose up on one side of them.

  Some of the kids were sitting cross-legged, some lay on their stomachs. Only one child had not relaxed and made himself comfortable. The twelfth camper, Brad Templeton, stood directly in front of the wall, staring up at it intently.

  “How are you doing?” Jewel asked the campers as she rose and began to walk among them to see what they had produced in the half hour they had been drawing.

  “Okay.”

  “Pretty good.”

  “What’s that thing there?” A girl’s finger pointed to a stick horse etched on the stone wall.

  “What does it look like?” Jewel asked.

  “It’s a horse, dummy,” the boy sitting next to the girl said scorn fully.

  “Yes, it is, Louis,” Jewel said. “But you can see why Nolie might not recognize it. It could be some other animal.”

  “It has a long tail and pointy ears like a horse,” Louis said.

  “True. But some dogs have long tails and pointy ears.”

  “Oh,” Louis said thoughtfully. “It looked like a horse to me.”

  “That’s why we’re making these drawings,” Jewel explained. “And writing down what we think they mean.” She put a supportive hand on Patty’s shoulder as she encouraged one of the campers and exchanged a thankful look with Gavin, who had one of the youngest—and most homesick—campers sitting in his lap.

  “We’ll send your drawings to an archaeologist at the university who studies primitive art. She can tell us what she thinks the drawing means. When I send you her findings later this summer, you can compare your conclusions with hers.”

  “Does the drawing really mean something?” another little girl asked, staring at the primitive figures.

  Jewel shrugged and smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe someone a long time ago was just having fun drawing.”

  The kids laughed.

  Jewel had reached Brad’s side and noticed his drawing pad was blank. “Is something wrong, Brad?” she asked quietly.

  He kept his eyes on the stone wall and spoke in a voice that only she could hear. “I know what it means,” he said.

  “You do?” Jewel turned to stare at the wall of stick figures and arrows pointing in different directions with a sun above it all. “Tell me. I’ve always been curious.”

  “What does it matter? What does anything matter?”

  Jewel’s brow furrowed. “You can’t give up, Brad,” she said.

  “Why not?” he shot back. “People give up on stuff all the time. They quit hobbies and they quit school and they quit jobs.”

  “They don’t quit living,” she said.

  “Some d
o,” he said stubbornly. “They just stop doing things. You know what I mean.”

  Jewel felt a chill run down her spine. People like her. As afraid of living as Brad was of dying. “Tell me about the drawings, Brad.”

  He turned to look up at the wall. “The man wants to go some where far away, to have an adventure. But he isn’t sure which is the best way to go. So he doesn’t go anywhere at all. He stays right where he is. Where it’s safe.”

  Jewel stared at the wall. The sun shone brightly above a stick-figure man and his stick-figure horse. They were surrounded by arrows pointing in all different directions—some of them back at the man himself.

  He doesn’t go anywhere at all. He stays right where he is. Where it’s safe.

  Jewel’s throat squeezed closed. Brad might have been describing her own life for the past six years. Recently she had begun to make changes, but even so, she had been relying on Mac to get her over the worst hurdles. That had to stop. She had to start thinking about moving forward on her own. Or she might end up stuck forever right where she was.

  She had to stop letting the past control her present. She had to open herself to new relationships. She couldn’t count on Mac to solve her problems. He wanted to be her friend, nothing more. That had become apparent when she discovered from reading the newspapers the real reason he had gone to Dallas three days ago.

  She had died a little inside when she opened the Dallas newspaper the day after Mac had left and found a picture of Mac and Eve Latham smiling at each other at a Fort Worth charity function. If Eve was the woman Mac wanted, Jewel had to accept that and move on. She had to find the courage to start living again—without Mac’s help.

  The same way Brad had to keep on living, despite the fact he might be dying. “Do you think he ever took the trip?” Jewel asked softly.

  Brad shook his head, and a tear spilled on his cheek. He knuckled it away with his fist. “He waited too late,” Brad whispered.

  Jewel took a step closer and enfolded Brad in her arms. Her chin quivered, and she gritted her teeth to keep from making any sound. How could she have been working here all these years and not have seen what Brad could see so clearly? How could she have let so many years go by not living life when it was so precious? How could she have given fear such a strangle hold on her future?

  “It’s never too late, Brad,” she said fiercely. “All you have to do is take that first step, and then another, and another.” She rubbed his shoulders soothingly, then pushed him back and tipped up his chin so she could see his eyes beneath the baseball cap. “Just one step, Brad. And the adventure begins.”

  “Everything all right here?” Gavin had brought the homesick child with him in his arms.

  Jewel swallowed back the knot in her throat and turned to Gavin with a smile. “Sure. I think Brad is ready to do some drawing. Right, Brad?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled.

  “This one is about ready to go back,” Gavin said, gesturing to the little girl with his chin. She looked happy and comfortable in Gavin’s arms. He really was a great guy, Jewel thought, just not the guy for her.

  “Tell you what,” Jewel said. “Why don’t you and Patty gather up everyone else and get them started back. I’ll stay here a little while longer with Brad.”

  “You sure?” Gavin asked doubt fully. “It’s pretty isolated out here.”

  Jewel laughed. “Hawk’s Pride is safer than most big cities. Brad and I will be fine.”

  “Okay,” Gavin said with a smile. “See you later.”

  “Thanks, Gavin.”

  “You’re welcome, Boss,” he said over his shoulder. “Come on, guys. Let’s get you all mounted up,” he called to the campers. “Day’s wastin’.”

  Jewel helped Gavin and Patty make sure all the campers were comfortable for the horse back ride up out of the canyon. Then she crossed back to where Brad was industriously working on his drawing.

  “That’s looking pretty good,” Jewel said, admiring his sketch.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to practice,” Brad said, his lips curling wryly.

  “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jewel asked.

  “I wanted to be a football player,” Brad said, changing it to the past tense. “Like Mac Macready.”

  “Let’s get some practice, then,” Mac said.

  Jewel and Brad both jerked their heads toward the sound of Mac’s voice. He dismounted from his horse, a football tucked into his elbow.

  Jewel was surprised Mac had returned, especially after seeing the photo of him with his arm around Eve Latham. Her first impulse was to rail at him, but she had no claims on Mac Macready. What “business” he did in his free time was up to him. She just wished he hadn’t lied to her about why he had gone to Dallas. That wasn’t something friends did to friends.

  “What are you doing here?” Jewel said, her voice sharp despite her wish to keep it level.

  “I brought a football, figuring I’d throw a few passes to the kids, but I passed them on the way down, headed back for lunch. Gavin told me you’d stayed behind with Brad, so I thought I’d join you.”

  “Hi, Mac,” Brad said shyly.

  “Hi, Brad,” Mac said, tossing him the football. “I need to talk with Jewel for a minute. Why don’t you go find us a place where you can throw me a few?”

  “You want me to throw to you?”

  “You want to be a football player someday, don’t you? No time like the present to start practicing.”

  Brad shot Jewel a questioning look. Should I let myself hope? Should I take him up on his offer?

  “One step, Brad,” she said softly. “And the adventure begins.”

  The boy smiled broadly and turned back to Mac. “Okay, Mac. I’ll go find us a good spot.” He turned and headed on the run toward a sandy stretch that extended around a curve in the canyon wall.

  Jewel compared the Mac in the newspaper photo to the Mac standing before her. He had looked impressively handsome in a tuxedo. But he was just as impressive dressed in a cutoff T-shirt that showed off a wash board midriff and rippling biceps. Cutoff jeans revealed his scarred leg, but emphasized his height. Tennis shoes and a Texas Rangers baseball cap with his blond hair sticking out every whichaway made him look like one of the kids.

  She was quite aware he was not.

  Jewel forced herself to stand still as Mac eyed her up and down in return. She was wearing a T-shirt with the neck cut out that was also cut off at midriff, exposing her narrow waist, and very short, fringed cutoffs that showed off her long legs. She might as well have been naked. The look in his eyes made her skin feel prickly all over.

  Now that he was back, his gaze seemed to say, they could pick up where they had left off, kissing and touching.

  But she could not forget the possessive look in Eve’s eyes, or the way Mac’s arm reached snugly around her. She was very well aware of how long he had been gone and who he had been with, but she couldn’t very well confront him with Brad nearby.

  “I missed you,” he said softly.

  “From the picture in the newspaper I wouldn’t have said you were too lonely.”

  He frowned. “What picture?”

  “The one of you with your arm around Eve Latham at a charity ball.”

  Mac groaned. “I can explain—”

  “Later,” she said, turning to walk away from him. “Brad is waiting for you.”

  He caught her arm. “I want this cleared up now. It was nothing, Jewel. Publicity my agent set up.”

  “With Eve Latham?” she said, raising a doubtful brow.

  “With her father, actually. He’s a big fan of the Tornadoes.”

  “I suppose Eve just happened to be there?”

  “Believe me, I didn’t set that up. In fact, I’d planned to come right back the next morning, but Eve’s father arranged a golf game the next morning with the manager of the Tornadoes that I couldn’t very well get out of, and my agent snuck a few more appearances into the mix. Believe me, I only wanted to get
back here as quickly as I could.”

  “Why?” she said, staring him in the eye. “So you could throw foot balls to adoring campers?”

  For the first time he looked angry. “You know better,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Do I? I have no claim on you, Mac. If you’d rather not follow through on what you promised, all you have to do is say so. It isn’t necessary to make excuses.”

  An instant later, he was kissing her hard on the mouth. It was as much a kiss of anger as of passion. Jewel felt both angry and passionate in return. Mac let her go abruptly, his breathing erratic, and said, “I have no intention of backing out on my promise to you. It’s up to you whether you choose to take advantage of my offer.”

  Jewel stared at Mac, appalled at how easily he had aroused her, how easily he had made her want him. She was afraid to let Mac back in. “I thought you’d lied to me about why you went to Dallas,” she admitted.

  “I would never lie to you, Jewel. That’s not something friends do.”

  She wanted to believe him. She wanted to go back to trusting him. Fear made her cautious. Fear made her reluctant to let him back into her life. Fear could keep her stuck in the same rut forever.

  Jewel glanced at the etching on the stone wall. She took a deep breath and let it out. “All right, Mac. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  She held out her hand for him to shake, and Mac raised it to his mouth, kissing it like a courtier of old. His grin reappeared, and she felt her insides flip-flop.

  “Very well, my little hyacinth,” he said.

  “That’s a flower.”

  “And a precious stone,” he assured her. “See you in a little while.” He let go of her and loped across the sand, calling out to Brad to throw him the ball.

  Jewel stared at her hand where Mac had kissed it, then raised her fingertips to her recently kissed lips. Mac had plainly thrown down the gauntlet. She had a chance to grab for life with both hands. She had a chance to practice kissing and touching with him. And she had a chance to explore a relationship with him beyond the friend ship they had shared for so many years. She could take it, or reject it. The choice was hers.