Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach

by Joan Johnston

  Rebecca wasn’t going to get pregnant. He wasn’t going to be that lucky. He was going to be forced to choose between her and a child of his own. He could see it coming. He had imagined watching his children grow and prosper on Hawk’s Pride for so many years, that he fought giving up his dream. He wanted children of his own.

  But what if the price for children of his own flesh and blood was giving up Rebecca? Could he return to the empty life he had led before she came to fill it up?

  He quietly backed out of the room.

  Zach returned to his bedroom and shoved the sliding glass door open so he could hear the night sounds, so he could feel the evening breeze. The leaves of the live oak rustled, but otherwise the night was silent.

  He stepped outside and looked up between the gnarled branches of the live oak at the star-filled sky. Generations of Whitelaws had watched those same stars. Maybe some had even stood under this same tree. He wanted to leave a legacy for the future when he was gone. He wanted to know a part of him survived when there were no mortal remains of Zachary Baylor Whitelaw on this earth. Was that so terrible? Was that so selfish?

  Maybe not so terrible or selfish. But stupid, if it means losing Rebecca.

  Zach sighed. It was premature to create problems where none existed. There was no reason why he had to make a decision now. There were months—five months—ahead of him when the situation might resolve itself. All he had to do was wait.

  And pray.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “WE’VE FOUND A FAMILY WHO WANTS to adopt Jewel.”

  “I see,” Rebecca replied to the social service worker at the other end of the phone line. “When do they want to meet her?”

  “This afternoon, if possible.”

  “I see.”

  “Would that be all right, Mrs. Whitelaw?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll let Mr. and Mrs. Proffit know that you’ll be expecting them.”

  Rebecca set the phone down and turned to Zach, who was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in front of him. Jewel was still sleeping.

  “That was social service,” Rebecca said. “They’ve found someone who may want to adopt Jewel. Mr. and Mrs. Proffit. They’ll be coming to meet her this afternoon.”

  She sank onto a bar stool and dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, Zach, we’ve only had her three weeks!”

  “This is what’s best for Jewel, kid. She needs a mom and dad.”

  Rebecca’s head jerked up. “What’s wrong with us? She loves us, Zach. She won’t want to leave.”

  “She’s a child. She’ll do what she’s told.”

  “She’ll be upset. She’ll cry.”

  “She’ll get over it.”

  “How can you be so heartless?” Rebecca demanded.

  “I’m being realistic,” Zach replied in a steely voice. “You always knew this arrangement was temporary.”

  “I didn’t think they’d find anybody so soon.” Rebecca’s hands turned white-knuckled as she clenched them before her. “Or that I’d grow to love her so much.”

  She turned beseeching eyes on Zach. “Can’t we keep her, Zach? Please?”

  “She’s not a lonely old lady or a down-on-his-luck cowboy. She’s a growing child. She needs parents who can love her and provide her with a stable home.”

  “I love her. And if you’d let go of that stubborn pride of yours and admit it, you love her, too,” she argued heatedly. “We don’t have to let Mr. and Mrs. Proffit take her. We can give her a home, Zach.”

  “I don’t want her!” Zach rose so violently that the stool skidded several feet, tottered and fell with a crash. “I want my own little girl. I—”

  A whimper from the doorway cut him off. Zach felt a wrenching tear somewhere inside him when he saw Jewel standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She was still dressed in her nightgown, her hair in tumbled curls around her pinched white face. Her tiny hands were knotted into fists, and her chin trembled.

  Good Lord, how much had she heard? Obviously, too much. And not enough. She had no way of knowing that his need for a child of his own had nothing to do with any lack in her. It was a fault in him, a pride of family that had been bred deep, and which he seemed unable to relinquish.

  He exchanged a helpless look with Rebecca, whose face was nearly as pale with distress as the child’s.

  Zach quickly crossed to Jewel and bent down on one knee in front of her. When it appeared the little girl was going to turn and run, he took hold of her shoulders and held her in place.

  “Jewel, listen to me.”

  “No! You don’t like me! You don’t want me here!”

  Zach felt a sort of frantic fluttering inside. “Oh, Jewel, baby, I like you lots and lots. It’s just…there are some nice folks who want to adopt you and make you their little girl forever and ever. Rebecca and I—”

  “You don’t want me.” Her chin had sunk all the way to her chest. Her shoulders were slumped. The first tear spilled onto her scarred cheek.

  “Oh, sweetheart…” Zach was torn in two. He couldn’t say he wanted Jewel without offering hope that he and Rebecca might be willing to adopt her. But he didn’t want to adopt her. There was nothing wrong with Jewel; she was a great kid. She just wasn’t his kid.

  He pulled the little girl into his arms and hugged her tight. There were tears in his eyes when he turned to Rebecca, completely frustrated, unsure what logical argument he could use to assuage the painful disillusionment of a five-year-old child.

  Rebecca joined the two of them, and Zach opened one arm to pull her close.

  “I promise to be good,” Jewel sobbed.

  “Oh, Jewel, you already are good,” Rebecca crooned.

  Zach couldn’t say anything at all. His throat ached, and the muscles refused to work.

  “It isn’t that we wouldn’t love to have you for our very own little girl,” Rebecca said, “but…”

  She met Zach’s eyes, and he could see she wanted him to change his mind. But he had to draw the line somewhere. Otherwise, he was liable to find his house populated by homeless waifs. Jewel was lovable, but so were a lot of other kids. Slightly, but certainly, he shook his head no.

  He flinched under the lash of scorn in Rebecca’s eyes. It took every ounce of grit he had to hold to his convictions.

  Rebecca’s voice was calm, soothing, as she spoke to the distraught child. “There’s a mommy and daddy coming to visit this afternoon who want you, oh, so badly, to come live with them. Wouldn’t you like to meet them?”

  “Noooooo,” Jewel wailed. “I want to stay here. I don’t want to go away. I love you.”

  She clutched at Zach’s neck as she sobbed brokenly.

  Zach saw Rebecca draw blood as she bit her lip to hold back her tears. He had to get away, or he was going to give in to them. He thrust Jewel into Rebecca’s arms.

  “I’ve got work to do. I’ll be back this afternoon before the Proffits arrive.”

  Even far out on the range, all alone on horseback, Zach heard Jewel’s pitiful voice in his head.

  I don’t want to go away. I love you.

  And saw Rebecca’s searing look of scorn.

  He knew he had disappointed them both. He hadn’t been the hero they had hoped for; he had been the villain.

  That was the problem with being married to Rebecca. He was always trying to live up to her expectations of him. And often failing miserably. Over the past nearly eight months they had been married he had tied himself in knots trying to please her, to win a smile of approval from her. He suffered mightily those times when her glance told him he hadn’t measured up.

  Like now.

  She had wanted a knight in shining armor to come to the rescue. He had acted like the evil magician instead, waving his wand to make the child disappear.

  The truth was, now that he had some time to think about it, he conceded there was plenty of room at Hawk’s Pride for one more. Who said they couldn’t keep Jewel and have their own family, too? He h
ad heard of instances where a couple who apparently couldn’t conceive a child adopted one and then miraculously had their own.

  He had learned from watching his brother, Falcon, that a man could love a child who was no relation to him as much as any father loved his own flesh and blood. It explained the pain he was feeling now at the thought of what his life would be like if Jewel wasn’t a part of it. He would always worry whether she was warm and well-fed and happy.

  He couldn’t wait to get back to the house to tell Rebecca that he had a change of mind. He knew she would be pleased, and he hoped Rebecca and Jewel would forgive him.

  He spurred his horse into a gallop and raced across the rugged countryside. Neither he nor his horse saw the rabbit hole until too late, and horse and rider both took a hard fall. Zach lay stunned for a moment, the air knocked out of him. As soon as he could, he rolled over to see how his horse had fared. The animal was back on his feet, but hobbling badly.

  Zach shoved himself painfully to his feet and realized he had injured his ankle. He limped over to check his horse. The right foreleg wasn’t broken, but the gelding had a bad sprain.

  He had stopped swearing since the kids had shown up for camp, because he never knew when one of them was going to be around. But sometimes, nothing else expressed what he felt quite so well. And there were no kids here, at least a dozen miles from the nearest civilization.

  “Damn it all to hell!” he muttered viciously.

  There was no way he was going to get back to the house before the Proffits arrived. Oh, dear God. What if they took Jewel away with them? Rebecca would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself.

  REBECCA WAS INWARDLY FURIOUS. Not only had Zach left her to handle a distraught five-year-old, but he hadn’t returned as he had promised to deal with Mr. and Mrs. Proffit.

  She greeted the couple cordially at the door. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Proffit, I’m Rebecca Whitelaw.”

  “Please, call us Dan and Susan,” Dan said as the couple stepped inside.

  They looked like very nice people, Rebecca thought. Dan was dressed in an expensive suit and tie, and Susan was wearing a designer dress and nylons. They were a little older than she had expected, maybe their middle thirties, but both of them were very attractive, what some might call “beautiful people.”

  “I thought Jewel would be here,” Susan said.

  “She’s in her room. I hoped we might talk for a few moments first.” She had no power to deny Dan and Susan if they wanted to adopt Jewel. Nevertheless, she felt a responsibility to ascertain what kind of parents they might be.

  “Do you have other children?” Rebecca asked.

  “No. We’ve tried, but we can’t have children of our own,” Susan said.

  “I’m sorry.” Rebecca had more empathy for their situation than she was willing to reveal. “Have you been trying to adopt for very long?” She had heard there were lengthy waits to find a child.

  “We’ve only been looking for a year,” Dan said.

  Rebecca frowned. It sounded like they were shopping for a used car. “Would you like me to tell you a little about Jewel?”

  “We’d rather meet her and make our own judgment about her,” Dan replied.

  “All right. Let me go get her.”

  Jewel was playing quietly in her room. She had been unusually, extraordinarily quiet ever since Zach had left the house. It was as though by being quiet she might blend into the woodwork, as though, by becoming invisible, Rebecca might somehow forget she was there and let her stay.

  “Jewel, the Proffits are here. They’d like to meet you.”

  “Do I have to?”

  Rebecca nodded. She held out her hand, and Jewel gripped it very tightly. When they arrived in the living room, Jewel wouldn’t let go, so Rebecca walked past the Proffits, who were sitting on the leather couch, and settled herself in the pine rocker with Jewel standing between her jean-clad legs.

  Before Rebecca could even make an introduction, Susan said, “She limps.”

  “And her face is scarred,” Dan added.

  “Jewel was in a car accident. That’s how she lost her family.”

  “They didn’t tell us about the limp,” Susan said.

  “Or the scars,” Dan added.

  “Will she ever walk normally?” Susan asked.

  “She walks fine now,” Rebecca replied between stiff lips.

  “But she limps!” Susan exclaimed.

  Rebecca felt Jewel stiffen. She circled Jewel’s waist with her arm, to offer a bastion of comfort against the verbal onslaught of these rude, insensitive people.

  “Will the scars go away?” Dan asked.

  “They’re hardly noticeable now,” Rebecca managed to grit out. “In time they should fade until they’re almost invisible.”

  “Almost?” Dan said, a frown on his face. He exchanged a look with his wife.

  Rebecca felt sick. They were shopping for a child just like they would for a used car. And they didn’t want one with any dents in the fender or scratches on the hood.

  The couple rose abruptly. “I’m sorry we wasted your time,” Dan said.

  “Jewel isn’t the right child for us,” Susan said.

  Rebecca couldn’t believe her ears, couldn’t believe they were saying these things in front of Jewel, as though she were made of chrome and steel and couldn’t hear them perfectly well with her very human ears. She felt incensed at their cruelty.

  Rebecca rose like an avenging angel and protectively shoved Jewel behind her. Before she could begin her tirade, she heard Jewel run from the room.

  “Jewel, wait—” she called. But the little girl was gone. A moment later Rebecca heard the screen door slam in the kitchen. Most likely Jewel was headed for the barn. She would catch up to her as soon as she finished with the Proffits, and try to undo some of the damage that had been done.

  “You two don’t deserve to have a child as wonderful as Jewel,” she said fiercely. “She might limp, and she might have a few scars on her face, but that child has more love in her little finger than either one of you will ever know. Get out of my house. Get off this ranch. Get out of town. Because by the time I get through giving social services an earful, you won’t find a child to adopt anywhere in this county!”

  Rebecca didn’t wait for them to leave before she headed toward the back door. When she got to the barn she was distressed to see that Jewel’s pony was gone. The little girl couldn’t heft the saddle, and it was still in place on the side of the stall. But she was perfectly capable of bridling her own horse and riding bareback, and indeed, the pony’s bridle was gone.

  There were dozens of ways a little girl could get hurt or lost on a ranch as big as Hawk’s Pride. Rebecca didn’t even have a clue where to start looking.

  “Oh, Zach, where are you when I need you most?”

  ZACH WAS TIRED, HOT, AND HUNGRY when he finally came limping down the dirt road to the main house. He had planted young live oaks the entire distance from the arched entry to the house when he first graded the road, and they provided welcome shade. He could see in his mind’s eye the day when the approach to Hawk’s Pride would be every bit as impressive as the magnolia-lined drive leading to Hawk’s Way.

  For the past several miles he had been composing his speech of apology to Rebecca and Jewel. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

  Much as he desperately wanted to know how the interview with the Proffits had turned out, Zach headed for the barn first. Any cowboy worth his salt made sure his horse was taken care of before he attended to personal business. It was a habit bred in the West, because a man without a horse on the vast Texas plains could die walking to water. It behooved a cowboy, even in this day and age, to make sure his horse stayed healthy.

  Zach had already unsaddled the gelding when a cowboy entered the barn. Zach started at the sight of the stranger, then realized it was Smitty, the man who had shown up on their back doorstep two days ago. And his newest employee.

  He could remember thinkin
g at the time that it was a good thing he had opened the kitchen door to the quiet knock instead of Rebecca. Because he took one look at the cowboy, at his worn boots and frayed jeans and dusty hat, and knew that Rebecca would have hired the man on the spot.

  “Can I help you?” he had asked.

  “I’m looking for a job.”

  “I don’t need any hands right now.” Which was the truth.

  “I’m a hard worker.”

  “I don’t doubt it. What put you out of work?”

  “Oh. Well.” A flush cheated up the cowboy’s throat. “The boss and I didn’t get along.”

  “I see.” Probably a troublemaker, Zach thought. And felt relieved again that it hadn’t been Rebecca who had answered the door.

  “Man kicked his dog,” the grizzled cowboy said. “Even a dog don’t deserve that.”

  Zach had to agree. So maybe the cowboy wasn’t a troublemaker. “I wish I could help you, I just don’t need any more hands right now.” Especially with Camp LittleHawk disbanded for the summer. In fact, Rowley Holiday had taken off to join the rodeo circuit again.

  “I’d be willin’ to do just about anythin’.”

  Zach shoved his thumbs in his back pockets to resist the temptation to hire the man. “I just don’t have any work,” he said.

  The man turned away, hesitated, then turned back. He rubbed his whiskery jaw, then swiped his hand nervously along the leg of his pants. “You see, I got me a sick missus. Cancer. She’s in the hospital gettin’ chemicals pumped into her right now. I gotta have work to pay the bills.”

  Zach was certain he could have shut the door with a clear conscience if the man had mentioned any disease except cancer. He had a niece he had watched fight cancer, and he had spent the summer with kids ravaged by the disease. He told himself, when he offered Smitty a job, that he was doing it out of plain Christian charity, not because Rebecca had gotten him to thinking about how he had plenty and enough to share. Or because he knew how pleased and proud she would be of him for making “the right” decision.