Hawk's Way: Garth

by Joan Johnston

  “You look absolutely gorgeous,” Tate said.

  Faron slipped a protective arm around Belinda’s waist and said, “And she’s as nice as she is beautiful.” He had obviously laid something other than a maternal claim to his stepmother, and was challenging his family to say anything about it.

  This time it was Charlie One Horse who stepped in to diffuse the tension. He put a hand around Maddy’s shoulder and said, “I ’spect I gotta vote that this here is the purtiest woman in the room.”

  Candy looked over her shoulder in time to see Maddy’s blush. There could be no arguing that Charlie’s compliment had made the grandmotherly woman glow.

  Not to be outdone, Jesse announced, “Honey is the sweetest!”

  Adam countered with, “Tate is the cutest.”

  That left Candy as the only woman in the room who hadn’t been complimented. She stood by the stove, spatula in hand, staring at Garth and waiting.

  Say it. Lay some claim to me. Name me yours, and I will be. Do it, Garth!

  She willed him to speak, but he said nothing.

  At last he turned to Tate. “We’d better get moving if we’re going to be at the church on time. Finish up your breakfasts. I’ll go get the car.” He turned on his heel and stalked out the screen door, letting it slam behind him.

  Candy’s face paled. A moment later she left the kitchen with the excuse that she had to put on some more lipstick.

  “But she hasn’t eaten yet,” Jesse protested.

  Honey jabbed him in the ribs. “Hush.”

  When it came time to leave for church, there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind that a rift had developed between Candy and Garth. She made a point of riding to church in a separate car. However, Faron maneuvered things so she was forced to sit in the pew beside Garth during the christening ceremony.

  Candy had never been so aware of him. He was like a package of dynamite set to explode. All that was needed was a spark to set him off. Candy didn’t intend to light that particular fire. She planned to ignore Garth for as long as it took to get back to the house and get her bags packed.

  The incident this morning had finally made up her mind for her. Garth wasn’t going to change. He could no more let go of the past than the black stallion that had refused to surrender his fear and his fury. She had learned everything she had come to learn. It was time to leave.

  Only Garth apparently had other ideas.

  Garth’s family was celebrating the christening of Brett Patrick Philips with a picnic under the moss-laden live oak that shaded the back lawn. Candy stayed just long enough not to be rude, but excused herself from a game of softball that was forming and headed upstairs.

  She was in her room packing when she heard someone knocking—pounding, really—on her door. Her heart began thumping with an equally powerful force.

  “Who is it?”

  “You know damned well who it is!” Garth shouted. “Open the door, Candy.”

  “I’m busy, Garth.”

  The door swung open so hard it crashed against the wall. She stood staring at him with wide, wary eyes.

  He took one look at the suitcase on the bed and said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  What she was doing was perfectly obvious to both of them. “I’m packing.”

  “Why?”

  Another stupid question. “Because I’m leaving.”

  “Starlight is in heavy labor. I need your help.”

  There were at least three men in the backyard who could have helped him, and she would have guessed that several of the Whitelaw women would have been equally capable of delivering a foal. Garth had the vet on call, as well. But she didn’t point out to him the absurdity of his statement.

  Candy supposed she owed Garth an explanation for why she could no longer remain at Hawk’s Way. It wasn’t going to be easy or pleasant making it, but it would allow her the mental peace she needed to get on with her life. A life without Garth Whitelaw.

  She finished folding the jeans in her hands and laid them on top of the rest of the clothes in the suitcase. “All right, Garth. I’ll come with you. We need to talk.”

  When he reached out to her, she avoided his hand. She could feel the tension in him as she crossed past him and out her bedroom door. “Have you called the vet?” she asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “He’s taking care of another emergency. He’ll get here as soon as he can.”

  Candy felt a small chill of alarm. Maybe Garth’s tension wasn’t all directed at her. Maybe he was anticipating trouble. As she stepped through the screen door she said, “Maybe Faron or Jesse should be the one to help.”

  “There’s nothing they know that I don’t,” Garth replied. It might have sounded like bragging if Candy hadn’t known it was very likely the truth.

  Candy stopped at the door to the barn. “What is it you need me for?” she demanded.

  There was a long silence before he said, “You started this. I thought you should finish it.”

  His response was vague enough that he could have been referring to any number of things. “You started this.” Started what? The foaling of the mare? The taming of the stallion? Learning the art of breeding and training cutting horses? She suspected that where Garth was concerned, this referred to her relationship with him. Well, if he wanted to see a formal ending to the latter, she could and would provide it for him.

  “All right, Garth,” she said at last. “I’ll see it to the end.”

  Her it was as vague as his this. Nevertheless, she was certain Garth understood her.

  When Candy got a good look at the mare, her alarm increased. She turned to Garth and said, “She seems to be in a lot of pain, Garth. Is that normal?”

  “Some pain is normal.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “But not this much. There’s something wrong.” He whooshed out a breath of air. “I just hope the vet gets here in time to make a difference.”

  Candy realized suddenly why Garth had wanted her here. He was concerned about the mare. With his brothers or sister he would have had to maintain the stoic facade of uncaring. It was a mask he wore to hide his feelings—his very real and vulnerable feelings—from them. Last night had been a breakthrough of sorts. Today, for the first time—too late?—Garth was allowing her to see behind the mask.

  A short half hour after Candy arrived at the barn, the mare went down. It was clear she was struggling to deliver the foal without much result.

  “Shouldn’t we call the vet again?” Candy asked, her fear apparent in her voice.

  “He said he’d come when he can. Doc Stellan knows I wouldn’t have called him if I didn’t need him. He’ll be here as soon as he can get here.”

  They were both sweating from the heat. Garth had his sleeves rolled up so he could check on the mare’s progress occasionally. They left the mare momentarily alone in the stall so Garth could wash up at the sink in the barn.

  “I should have called Doc Stellan the first time Starlight’s labor stopped,” Garth muttered to himself. “I shouldn’t have waited.”

  “How could you have known?” Candy said, trying to ease his guilt.

  “It’s my job to know!” he snapped at her.

  “You can’t know everything!” she snapped right back.

  “I sure as hell was mistaken about you,” he retorted. “I thought you might be different. But you’re just like every other woman—”

  A screaming neigh cut him off.

  “It’s Starlight!” Candy cried.

  The two of them set off running for the stall that contained the mare. For a moment they stood stunned.

  Starlight lay on her side, clearly too exhausted to do what was necessary to complete the birth process. The tiny foal lay on the hay, still in its birth sac.

  Candy had never seen Garth move so fast. He was on his knees beside the foal an instant later. He tore the sac away from the foal’s mouth and nose with his hands and reached inside its mouth to clear the passage so the ani
mal could breathe freely. But that wasn’t enough.

  “Breathe, damn you!” he demanded of the motionless form in his arms.

  Meanwhile, Candy tended to the mare. Starlight was weak, but she was still alive. “Keep fighting, girl,” she crooned to the mare. “You can make it. Keep fighting and everything will be all right.”

  Candy watched as Garth tried several ways to resuscitate the foal, even using his own breath to try and revive the tiny being. She could see now that the filly had a white star on its forehead that was an exact replica of the one Starlight bore.

  At last Garth laid the foal down in the straw. His back was to Candy, so she couldn’t see his face. But there was no mistaking the way his body heaved with silent grief. She stroked the mare the way she wanted to comfort him.

  Until she realized the mare was also dead.

  “Garth? Garth?”

  Garth swiped at his eyes before he turned to face Candy. He saw the horror on her face and looked at the mare. Starlight had hemorrhaged, and he had been so busy with the foal that he hadn’t noticed what was happening.

  “She’s dead, Garth. Starlight is dead.”

  “Hell. Dammit to hell!”

  Candy wanted to hold Garth. She wanted to be held by him. But neither of them moved for what seemed a very long time.

  “Candy, I—”

  His dark eyes were full of so much pain. She crossed the distance between them on her knees. Then she was in his arms, and he was holding her tight, pressing kisses to her face and neck.

  “Hold me,” he said. “Hold me.”

  “I am. I will.”

  Candy didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Her heart nearly broke when she felt his tears against her cheek. He could feel. He did care. Only he wasn’t able to let his family see his vulnerability. He had needed to be strong, to hold his family together, to be a parent when his own parents were no longer there to do their jobs.

  When at last he let her go, Candy searched out Garth’s face, hoping the mask wouldn’t be there. But the vulnerable man who had cried for the loss of a mare and a foal was gone. In his place was the Garth Whitelaw who wanted a woman for one purpose, and one purpose only.

  In that moment she hated him. He had let her glimpse the man he could be, given her hope when she had been hopeless. And made it all the more difficult to say what she knew must be said.

  “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  “No one’s stopping you.”

  That hurt. As he had known it would when he said it. Candy swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve taught me.”

  “There’s more you have to learn,” he said.

  “It would take years to learn everything. I know enough to get started on my own. I thank you for that.”

  “Tell your father when you see him that he can send Comanche Moon here anytime it’s convenient.”

  “Why would he send Comanche Moon here?”

  “Your father and I had a little agreement.”

  Candy’s lips flattened. “What sort of agreement?”

  Garth shrugged negligently. “I agreed to teach you everything you wanted to know, and he agreed to sell me Comanche Moon at a fair price. The bargain is concluded the day you leave Hawk’s Way.”

  “Were lessons in the bedroom part of the deal?” she asked in a scathing voice. “How could you? How could you blackmail my father that way?”

  “He came to me,” Garth countered. “And I’m paying a fair price for the horse.”

  “And that makes it all right?” she demanded. “I hate you! I don’t think I could ever loathe anyone as much as I loathe you right now. I can’t wait to get out of here!”

  Candy surged to her feet and nearly fell again because her legs refused to hold her. Garth half rose to help her, and she shoved his hands away.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get what you bargained for. I’ll make sure my father ships Comanche Moon here the instant I arrive home. Goodbye, Garth. And good riddance.”

  She left the barn at a walk, determined not to flee like the wounded animal she was. But her walk turned into a trot, and her trot into a run. She saw Garth’s family as blurs of color as she sought out the safety of her room.

  Garth stood unmoving for a long time. He didn’t know why he had driven her away. He had come so close, so close to letting her see how much he cared for her. At the last instant he had turned away from the tenderness she had offered him. He was like that big black beast, unable to let go of the past. And it was destroying him, as it would one day destroy the beast.

  Garth kept his distance from his family the rest of the day. He ordered Tom Handy to take care of removing the dead mare and foal. He was too afraid he might break down and cry if he saw them again. He called the vet and told him not to come.

  Then Garth saddled up a horse and went riding across the vast acres of Hawk’s Way, through canyons and gullies as he crisscrossed the rugged terrain. He rode without stopping until both he and the horse were exhausted.

  It was nearly midnight when he arrived home. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the house was dark. There was a light on in the kitchen, but Charlie usually left a light burning in case someone got hungry during the night.

  Garth was headed for the parlor and two long fingers of whiskey, but he ran head-on into Charlie One Horse when he stepped inside the kitchen door.

  “Where you been?” the old man asked.

  “Riding.”

  “Case you hadn’t noticed, today was supposed to be a family celebration.”

  “I wasn’t in much of a mood to celebrate,” Garth said in a curt voice. “I lost Starlight and the foal both.”

  “Candy told me what happened.”

  Garth didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t help himself. “Is she still here?”

  “Where else would she be?”

  Garth breathed a sigh of relief, although he knew he’d only had a reprieve, not a pardon.

  “Women,” Charlie muttered. “You gonna marry that girl?”

  Garth’s dark eyes were bleak. “She’s decided to leave Hawk’s Way.”

  “Mistake lettin’ her get away.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Hog-tie her to keep her here?”

  Charlie opened the refrigerator and began looking for something to snack on. “You admittin’ you wanta keep her?”

  “I want her,” Garth said.

  “You wanta marry her?” Charlie asked again.

  “I want her,” Garth repeated stubbornly.

  Charlie shook his head again. “Gotta do better than that. Else you’re gonna lose her sure. Can’t get that filly without promisin’ marriage. No sirree, Bob. With a girl like Candy, it’s gotta be marriage or nothin’.”

  “You finished saying your piece, old man?”

  “I’m finished.”

  “Then I’ll be saying good night.”

  When Garth was gone, the old man shut the refrigerator door and stared at the ceiling. “Sure thought that filly had him lassoed good and tight. Ah, well, she ain’t gone yet.”

  Meanwhile, Garth found the whiskey in the parlor and poured himself a glass without turning on a light. He crossed and sat in the leather chair before the fireplace and put his feet up on the rawhide stool that had held generations of Whitelaw boots. He stared into the glowing embers that were all that was left of what he was sure must have been a roaring fire earlier in the evening.

  He sipped his whiskey trying to dull the pain. He thought about what Charlie had said. Would proposing marriage keep Candy Baylor from leaving tomorrow morning? He recalled the words she had shouted at him.

  I hate you. I can’t wait to get out of here!

  Somehow he didn’t think a marriage proposal would be very welcome right now.

  Garth didn’t know how long he had been sitting alone when Faron slumped into the leather chair beside him.

  “What are you doing sitting here in the dark?” Faron asked.

&
nbsp; “I could ask you the same thing,” Garth responded.

  “Women,” Faron said in a tone reminiscent of the one Charlie One Horse had used.

  Garth grunted an affirmation of the sentiment.

  Neither of them said anything more, each caught up in his own thoughts. Occasionally, Garth drank from the glass of whiskey he held in his hand.

  Without either of them knowing quite how it happened, Faron was spilling out his problems with Belinda Prescott. He had fallen in love with his stepmother but was unsure whether she loved him. They were both working hard to repair the ranch where Belinda lived so it could be sold, when all Faron really wanted to do was marry Belinda and settle down at King’s Castle and raise children.

  Garth urged Faron to keep the ranch. And to pursue Belinda, if that was what he wanted.

  “What are you doing hiding down here? I never thought you were a coward,” Garth challenged.

  Faron took enough umbrage to say, “I’m not the only Whitelaw sitting in the dark. What’s the story between you and Candy Baylor?”

  “None of your business,” Garth said brusquely.

  A slow smile grew on Faron’s face. “Well, well, big brother. How the mighty have fallen.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You figure it out. I’m going upstairs where I hope there’s a lady waiting for me. You can sit here alone in the dark all night if you want. But I suspect there might be a lady somewhere waiting for you, too.”

  “She’ll have a long wait,” Garth retorted.

  Faron laughed. “Good night, Garth. Sleep well.”

  “Get out of here and leave me in peace.”

  “I’ll leave, but I doubt you’ll have much peace until you seek out a certain blond-haired, gray-eyed woman.”

  Hell and damnation! Garth wanted desperately to follow his youngest brother’s advice. He wanted to go to Candy, to seek forgiveness, to beg her to stay. But that would mean admitting to her, and to himself, just how much he needed her. And that was still far too dangerous a proposition.

  So he would have to let her go. When he thought of the life stretching out in front of him, it seemed bleak indeed.