Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach

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Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach Page 11

by Joan Johnston


  “Can’t you stay and visit longer?” her father said.

  “I need to get home. There are lots of chores to be done. And I want to be sure I have time to cook supper for Sam.”

  Her parents walked her to the door, clearly reluctant to let her go.

  “When will we see you again?” her mother asked.

  “Soon.”

  “Don’t make it so long next time,” her father said gruffly as he pulled her into his arms at the door and gave her a hug. “I love you, Callen,” he whispered in her ear.

  Callen bit her lip to keep from bursting into tears. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had told her he loved her. Callen hugged him hard. She peered up at him when he let her go. The skin was stretched taut over his cheekbones. He was getting older. There was more gray in his hair, and the creases beside his mouth were deeper. She glanced at her mother and saw there were lines around her eyes that she had never noticed before. Where had the time gone?

  They were already grandparents to Falcon’s stepdaughter and newborn son. Now they were going to have another grandchild. And she was going to have to find a way to convince Sam that their child needed its grandparents.

  “Goodbye, Daddy. Goodbye, Mom,” she said, giving them each another quick hug and a kiss. “Don’t worry about me, please. I love Sam. And I’ll find a way to make everything all right.”

  She was gone before they could ask her what she meant.

  Callen drove back to the Double L as fast as her car could get her there. She parked in back and headed for the kitchen door. She turned the knob and shoved, but the door didn’t budge.

  It was locked.

  She banged on the door. “Sam! The door’s locked. Come on, let me in.”

  There was no answer. She couldn’t imagine why the door was locked in the first place. They never locked the doors. It wasn’t necessary. She raced around the house to the front door, thinking it might be open. It was locked, as well.

  She pounded on it and shouted, “Sam! I know you’re in there! This is ridiculous! Let me in!”

  A quick check revealed his motorcycle was gone. So, he wasn’t inside listening to her pound on the door, after all.

  There was a key under the mat in front, and Callen stooped to see if it was there. It was. She picked it up and stood in the fading light of dusk and stared at it. All she had to do was put the key in the lock and open the door.

  Why had Sam locked the doors, but left the key, she wondered, unless he intended for her to let herself in? But if he wanted her inside, why hadn’t he simply left the doors open? Why had he made sure to be gone when she got home?

  Callen felt a rising fury. If Sam was backing off from his ultimatum, if this was his idea of an apology, it fell far short of what was necessary. And if he was testing to see whether she dared to come inside after he had made it clear she wasn’t welcome, he was going to be sorely disappointed. If Sam wanted to play games, she would show him how it was done. He would soon discover that a Whitelaw learned in diapers how to win.

  Callen’s lips twisted in chagrin. Of course, there was the small matter of where she was going to stay until Sam came after her with an apology on his lips. Returning to Hawk’s Way was out of the question. She got into her car and headed down the drive away from the Double L without any clear destination in mind. Not that she could see anything anyway, for the tears blurring her vision.

  When she realized several minutes later that she was on the road to Hawk’s Way she pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. She refused to go home to her father. She didn’t belong there anymore. She turned the car around and headed in the other direction.

  She had only been to Zach’s ranch a few times, but nothing had ever looked as sweet to her as his whitewashed Spanish-style adobe house. She parked the car in back and headed for the kitchen. She opened the unlocked door without knocking and stepped inside. Zach was sitting at the island bar in the center of the kitchen, finishing up a supper that looked like it had gone from the freezer to the microwave. He looked up when she appeared in the doorway, startled. He rose and took a step toward her.

  Callen collapsed, weeping, into her brother’s comforting arms.

  He didn’t ask her any questions. He didn’t say “I told you so.” He merely put her into bed in his guest room, drew the drapes to make it dark, closed the door and left her alone.

  SAM SAT WITH HIS BACK AGAINST E.J.’s headstone. Tears had dried on his cheeks. It was nearly full dark. He knew Callen must have come home by now and found the doors locked. He wondered whether she had bothered to look for the key and whether she had used it. He was afraid to go home and find out.

  He had argued with himself for hours about whether he ought to simply go back to the house and unlock the doors and welcome home the best thing that had ever happened to him. In spite of all his threats, he knew he would welcome her with open arms if she came back to him. She had to know how he felt. But he had never told her that he loved her. He had never told her how precious she was to him.

  Sam tried to remember what his life had been like before Callen came into it nearly nine months ago. Bleak. Lonely.

  Lately it had been filled with laughter. Soon there would be a baby crying, bringing new life to the Double L. Unless Callen saw those locked doors and left. What if she didn’t remember about the key under the front door mat? What if she didn’t think to look for it?

  He didn’t know how he would live without her.

  Sam jumped up and ran for his motorcycle. He lay low along the tank as the wind whistled around his ears. He felt the fear rise as he approached the house and saw it was still dark. He raced for the back door, yanked on it and realized it was locked. He pounded on it twice in frustration before he sprinted around to the front.

  He saw the shine of the key in the last rays of daylight. It was sitting on top of the mat in plain sight. She had found it. But she hadn’t used it.

  Sam grabbed the key and jammed it into the lock. He turned the key and forced the door open, shouting as he hurried through the dark house.

  “Callen? Where are you? Callen? Are you here? Callen?”

  He turned on lights as he went until he had illuminated every square foot of the house. She wasn’t there.

  He walked back into the parlor and sat in the chair she had scrounged for him and put his feet up on the comfortable ottoman. There was no warm fire to greet him. There was no warm woman to hold in his arms. He leaned back wearily in the chair. He had never been so tired.

  Where could she have gone?

  To Hawk’s Way, you fool. And you have no one to blame but yourself. You had a chance. You could have made a choice.

  I did make a choice.

  You made the wrong one.

  I owed E.J.—Do you think E.J. would have wanted to see this happen? Do you think E.J. would want his grandchild to grow up without its father?

  She’ll come back.

  Better if you go after her.

  She’ll come back.

  You’re a fool, Sam Longstreet.

  Sam tried to find some satisfaction in what he had done. His revenge was complete. But as he looked around his empty house, bereft of love and laughter, and thought of sleeping in his bed, empty and cold, and imagined a future spent alone…vengeance suddenly didn’t seem so important anymore.

  It seemed a betrayal of the feelings he had for his father to choose Callen over vengeance. But vengeance was a bitter bedfellow.

  Sam was torn in two. He couldn’t think right now. He closed his eyes and let blessed sleep claim him.

  CALLEN POUNDED ON THE DOOR. “Sam! Let me in! Sam!”

  The front door opened abruptly and Callen nearly fell inside. Sam caught her firmly by the shoulders and kept her at arm’s length. “You left this house, Callen. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

  She laughed shakily. “Sam, this is my home, too. You’re my husband. I want to come in.”

  “No, Callen.”

  Call
en was stunned. He had meant what he had said. He didn’t want her anymore. And all because she refused to love one man more than another. Callen had too much pride to beg. “All right, Sam. Have it your way.”

  She turned and walked toward her car. She got in and gunned the engine, spitting rocks and dust as she headed down the drive.

  Only she had no place to go.

  “Callen! Callen!”

  It was Sam. He was calling her back. He wanted her—

  CALLEN BOLTED UPRIGHT WHEN SHE felt a hand on her shoulder. Where was she?

  “You were having a bad dream,” Zach said.

  Oh, my God, it had all been a dream! Callen bit back a sob. The nightmare had seemed so real!

  She looked around her, trying to orient herself. This wasn’t her bed. There was no comforting warmth lying beside her. It all came back to her again with her eyes wide open. The awful confrontation with Sam. His ultimatum. Returning home to find herself locked out. Leaving the key where Sam was sure to find it and know she had chosen to leave him. Coming to Zach’s house and collapsing in his arms.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Are you all right, Callen? You cried out in your sleep.”

  It was still dark. She couldn’t see Zach, but she could feel his arms close around her shoulders. She leaned her head against his chest and sighed. “I’ve made a mess of everything, Zach.”

  “You had some help.”

  “Yes. Sam isn’t without blame. What am I going to do now?”

  “Get a good night’s sleep and go home tomorrow.”

  “It isn’t that simple. Sam threw me out.”

  “He what?”

  “He’s got this crazy idea that Daddy is responsible for E.J.’s death.”

  “That’s hogwash.”

  “He says Daddy pointed E.J. toward those investments on purpose, because he wanted him to lose the Double L.”

  “Why?”

  “So Daddy could buy the Double L when it went into foreclosure and replace the land he gave to you.”

  Zach remained silent, and Callen’s heart fell.

  “I knew he wanted to buy some more land,” Zach mused quietly. “But I thought he had Abel Johnson convinced to sell.”

  “You’re not suggesting Daddy might have done what Sam’s accused him of, are you?”

  “No. Dad and E.J. were too close for that. I think if Dad had wanted E.J. to sell to him he would have come right out and asked.”

  “What if E.J. said no?”

  “Then I think Dad would have looked elsewhere.”

  Callen sighed. “I thought the same thing. But Sam refuses to believe me. And he refuses to listen to anything Daddy has to say.”

  “Then I guess we’ll just have to catch him and hogtie him and make him listen.”

  Callen laughed at the image Zach had conjured. “Oh, I’d like to see you try.”

  “You think I couldn’t do it?”

  “I think you’d have your hands full trying.”

  “Seriously, Callen, what are you going to do now?”

  “Can I stay here?”

  “You’re welcome for as long as you want to stay.”

  “I’ll have to find a place of my own soon,” she said.

  “You’ll be no bother here.”

  “Yes, but I have a feeling you may draw the line at hosting a squalling infant.”

  She heard Zach take in a breath.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “Nearly three months.”

  “Sam Longstreet is a fool.”

  “Right now, I’d have to agree with you.” Callen felt like crying.

  Zach must have sensed it somehow because his arms tightened around her and he ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry, Callen. Everything will turn out fine. You’ll see. First off, I’m going to see Dad and explain the situation. I may not be able to make Sam listen, but surely Dad can find a way to make him hear the truth.”

  “Oh, Zach, I hope you’re right.”

  “You’d go back to him if he asked?”

  “In a heartbeat. I love him, Zach. More than my own life. More than anything.”

  “Then why aren’t you at the Double L right now?”

  “Because Sam has to realize he loves me the same way. Until he does, until he realizes that nothing is more important than our love for each other, it’s better that I stay away.”

  Zach eased her back down. “Get some sleep, Callen. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  Zach didn’t go back to his own bed. He dressed and left the house, arriving at the imposing front door of Hawk’s Way a half hour later. He let himself in and made his way upstairs to his parents’ bedroom. The door was closed and he knocked.

  He heard the rustling of bedcovers inside and then his father’s voice. “Who’s there?”

  “Zach.”

  His father and mother both appeared at the door a moment later. “What’s wrong?” they said together.

  “It’s Callen.”

  “Is she all right? Has something happened to her?” his mother asked.

  “She’s fine, Mom. She’s at my place, sound asleep in the guest room.”

  “If that bastard has done anything—”

  “Hold on, Dad,” Zach said. “You’d better be sure Callen doesn’t hear you bad-mouthing Sam like that. She’s likely to scratch your eyes out.”

  “What the hell is going on, Zach?” Garth demanded.

  Zach turned to his mother. “I need to talk to Dad. Could you leave us alone for a little while?”

  “There’s nothing you have to say to me that your mother can’t hear,” Garth said.

  “All right. I’ll wait for you both downstairs.”

  It didn’t take long for Zach to relate everything Callen had told him. Except the fact that she was pregnant. He figured she would rather tell them that herself. “So you see, Dad, you’re going to have to make Sam listen to the truth.”

  “You don’t think Sam’s version of what happened is the truth?” Garth questioned.

  “No, Dad. And neither does Callen. But I’m curious. Just what did happen?”

  Garth sighed. “I believe I’ll save that explanation for Sam. But I don’t think he’s going to want to hear it.”

  “When are you going to see Sam?” Candy asked.

  “Is tomorrow morning soon enough?”

  “I guess it’ll have to be,” Zach said. He rose with a stretch, and yawned. “I guess I’d better get back home and get what sleep I can. I’d advise you to do the same.”

  Once Zach was gone, Garth and Candy walked arm-in-arm back up the spiral staircase. They went through the motions of removing robes and returning to bed. Garth turned out the bedside lamp and pulled his wife into his arms.

  But sleep wouldn’t come.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Garth,” Candy whispered in the dark. “There was nothing you could have done.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Garth said. “He was my friend. I should have been able to prevent what happened. I should have done more. I should have done something.”

  “You did what you could. You did more than most. Don’t blame yourself.”

  “Sam blames me.”

  “Sam needs someone to blame.”

  “What if he won’t listen?”

  “He’ll listen. And he’ll recognize the truth when he hears it.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Try to sleep, Garth. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.” Candy pressed her cheek against Garth’s chest and let her hand twine in the hair at his nape. “You’re a good husband, Garth, and a good father and a good friend. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  “Thanks, Candy. I needed to hear that.” Garth pulled his wife close. She was the treasure of his life. The light that burned bright in his soul. He hoped his children found the same wonder in their spouses that he had found in his.

  Garth lay for a long time staring into the dark. He felt Candy’s breathing deepen and steady into the rhythm of sleep. At l
ong last, he closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  NO DOUBT ABOUT IT, SAM LONGSTREET was a changed man. And it was all the result of his marriage to Callen Whitelaw. Sam stood on his front porch, which no longer sagged, and looked around him. Not only had the rotting boards been replaced on the barn, but it had been painted a rust red. There were six sleek quarter horses in the corral, waiting to be worked. Two of those cutting horses belonged to the Double L. The rest were being trained for clients he had advertised for in quarter-horse journals. He had written the ads himself and read them when they appeared in the magazine.

  He brushed a hand across his clean-shaven jaw and wiped the polished toes of his boots against the back of his jeans. There wasn’t a piece of clothing in his drawers with a rip or tear, not a button missing on one of his shirts. He owed that to Callen, too.

  In the distance he saw a windmill twirling like mad, but no screech of unoiled metal carried to him on the wind. He could see his cattle near the stock tank, munching contentedly on hay he had planted and reaped himself. He would be taking them to market soon, and because he was a lucky man, the price of beef was up.

  The Double L had never been so profitable as it was now. He had made his mortgage payments the past few months with money earned by the sweat of his brow—and Callen’s. He mustn’t forget his wife when he was counting his blessings. Because she was the greatest one of all.

  Sam knew what his wife had given to him. His ranch. His self-respect. Her love.

  What had he offered her in return? Dishonesty. Duplicity. Deception.

  He had never once told her his true feelings. Although, perhaps that wasn’t surprising, since he had lied to himself almost from the first. He must have loved her even then. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t. Only he had never told her. He had never said the words aloud. Not when she married him. Not when she made love to him. Not when she gave him back his ranch or offered him a chance to read and write when he thought such feats impossible. Not even when she made him believe there was nothing he couldn’t do if he set his mind to it.

  Had he made her happy, as he had promised he would on the day he proposed to her? He thought perhaps she was. Or had been, before he insisted on having his revenge against her father. If he had it all to do over again, he would do things differently. Oh, yes, he would. He would recognize the prize he had found in his wife and cherish her and protect her from anything that threatened her happiness.

 

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