Redhawk's Return

by Aimée Thurlo

  As she sat there, cross-legged, absorbed in the photos, twirling a lock of golden hair around her finger, she suddenly looked like a sixteen-year-old again, not a twenty-two year old. Travis smiled, but as his gaze drifted down and he took in her body’s gentle curves, he realized there was no escaping it: Fox was a woman now. There was a natural sensuality about her, too, which he found nearly impossible to resist.

  But her innocence made her far more vulnerable than she realized. He could keep her alive by becoming bad news to anyone who tried to hurt her; but keeping her heart safe was a different story. In that respect, he was her worst enemy. He had to master his feelings for her, or his desire to make her his would destroy them both.

  As Fox leafed through the album, she slowly shook her head. “There doesn’t seem to be anything useful to us here,” she said. But, near the end, she stopped and stared at the faded snapshot in the middle of the page. “Wait, here’s something. This must have been taken right after they adopted me,” she said.

  There was no adult standing with her. Her heart twisted as intuition told her what was behind the somber expression she’d worn so long ago. “I was so scared.”

  “That was natural, under the circumstances. You had plenty of reason to be wary of people,” Travis said.

  “That’s Chance, my teddy bear,” she said. “I look as if I’m holding on to him for dear life. I wonder if he was a gift from Mom and Dad, or something I brought from my old life.”

  Travis studied the photo. “That bear wasn’t new when that photo was taken. See how the ear is unraveling?”

  “You’re right. Poor Chance looked tattered even then. Mom sewed him up for me many times over the years.” As she held the photo album closer to the light, she suddenly spotted a slight rectangular bulge around the center of the photo. “Do you see that?”

  “There’s something hidden behind there,” Travis acknowledged.

  “I’m afraid to pry up this brittle sheet of plastic from the sticky corners. There’s got to be another way to get at what’s beneath this picture without damaging anything.”

  She held the album sideways and shook it gently. As she did, a small photo slipped out from beneath the larger one, dropping onto her lap.

  Looking at it grimly, she said, “Now we’re getting someplace.”

  Chapter Three

  Fox placed the album on the coffee table, then picked the photo up very carefully. It wasn’t quite in focus, and the edges were damaged, but there was no doubt as to the month and year printed on the bottom.

  “This picture dates back to before I was adopted. But how did Mom get it? And, more importantly, where was it taken?” She studied the photo carefully. It showed her, at age five, holding a party for two teddy bears and three rag dolls.

  “You were in the Southwest,” Travis said. “The dry, rocky terrain, and particularly the cactus and creosote bush behind you, remind me of central or southern Arizona.”

  “This photo must have belonged to my biological parents. And that looks like Chance.” She pointed to the gray bear with its back to the camera. “Or it might be just another gray teddy bear,” she added reluctantly.

  “Let’s take a closer look at that bear of yours.” He went to her room and returned with the stuffed toy.

  Fox saw Travis pressing into the bear’s body with his powerful hands, searching for something hidden inside. She smiled. “There’s nothing in that bear except very old stuffing. It’s been squeezed and loved to death for many years, believe me.”

  He handed it to her. “You’re right. It’s soft enough that I can tell there’s nothing inside it.”

  “Chance was my best friend when I was a kid,” she said. “Sometimes when I look at him, I start to see these strange images I don’t recognize. But when I focus on them, my heart starts pounding and it all fades away again.”

  “That’s okay. Don’t force it.”

  Fox set the stuffed bear down. “You know, there’s another angle we can pursue. But we’d need the addresses of every single place Mom and Dad ever lived after I came into their lives.”

  “We can get that,” he said. “It would be listed in their federal income-tax records and I know where Nick kept those.” He led Fox to the workshop outside, then to two tall gray metal file cabinets. “Now tell me. Why do you want to know where they lived?”

  “I’d like to talk to the people Mom and Dad knew back when I was little, right after they moved here to the Rez. Sometimes it’s just too hard to keep everything a secret. What I’m hoping is that they confided bits and pieces to different people they trusted, just in the course of regular conversation. And, with luck, we may be able to piece together a lead we can follow up on.”

  “I don’t think that’s a sound course of action,” Travis said. “If you actively pursue an investigation of your own, you’ll be right in the line of fire.”

  “I’m there anyway,” she countered. “I’m going on the offensive on this, Travis. You can’t stop me. What you can do, if you choose to, is help me.”

  He considered it before answering. If he didn’t help her, she’d do it on her own and try to cut him out of the picture. She’d left him with no real choice. “All right. We’ll play it your way for the time being, and see how it goes.”

  “Good. I’m not making an arbitrary decision, you know. It’s our only option. We know Dad worked as an investigator for the U.S. Attorney’s office in Phoenix before he opened the school here. Those files are going to be closed to us, so we’ll have to leave that part of the case to Casey and Ashe. What we can do is tackle things from right here. Since everyone knows everyone else’s business on the Rez, we may find quite a gold mine.”

  They carried boxes filled with file folders to the house, then began sifting through the oldest records first. “I remember going with your father whenever he traveled around the Rez recruiting students,” Travis said, spreading the papers in stacks on the kitchen table and counter. “He’d always point out the mission or public schools they’d worked at before their school opened, and tell me about them. There were several.”

  “The time between their arrival on the Rez and the opening of their own school must have been longer than I thought,” Fox mused. “I was little then, and I just don’t remember details.”

  “It took them several years to get things started. Since they were really low on funds, particularly during the time the school was under construction, they’d work anywhere and everywhere. Alice got a job as a full-time teacher, but Nick only did substitute teaching so he could be free to oversee construction as often as possible.”

  “You know, I never realized that they’d had a rough time financially,” Fox said. “Mom always gave me the impression that their school was a dream come true. She never spoke of the hardships.”

  “Like it is with most people, they got what they wanted because they were willing to work hard for it.”

  Fox stopped searching and froze. “Did you hear that?”

  Before she finished the sentence, Travis was peering out the window. “We’ve got company, and I don’t recognize the vehicle.”

  “I’ll go back to my room and stay out of sight. I have a feeling it’ll be safer for both of us if people think you’re here alone.”

  “Fox, if there’s trouble,” he said, stopping her before she could leave, “climb out the back window and run down into the bosque as fast as you can. Head for town. I’ll look after myself.”

  Travis strode quickly into the front room, not giving her a chance to argue. Seething, Fox put her coffee cup away so there’d be only one on top of the table. Travis just didn’t get it. She wasn’t running away—not anymore. Picking up a rolling pin from the counter, she continued down the hall to her room. If someone came after her, they’d get a cracked skull for their trouble. Travis had underestimated her badly if he thought she’d leave him to face trouble alone.

  TRAVIS STOOD TO ONE side of the window, keeping out of sight as he watched the truck that was
pulling up out front. Tense, he waited for a clear view of the two people inside. When the driver stepped out seconds later, Travis immediately recognized him. Stan McNeely was a longtime county resident and a former Ranger who had served with Travis a few years ago. The man had been booted out of the service after slugging a noncommissioned officer.

  Travis watched the man as he sauntered up with the “I’m Bad” swagger many of the elite units had adopted. The passenger remained in the truck. Deciding to meet trouble head-on, Travis opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.

  “McNeely,” he greeted. “It’s been a while. What brings you here?”

  “Hey, buddy. Thought I’d pay you a visit. What do you say we go inside and talk a little business?”

  Travis met the Anglo man’s steely gaze with one of his own. McNeely had an agenda. He’d never come to visit Travis before, and there was nothing casual about his arrival now. Travis considered not inviting the man in, but then concluded it would be better to let McNeely think he had nothing to hide—that Fox was nowhere around.

  McNeely went in first. He swept his gaze over the area, like he was taking point in hostile territory, then he turned around and faced Travis.

  “Let me get right down to it,” McNeely said. “I’ve been following the news, and I know you and Katrina Johnson—Fox—are in a bit of trouble. I figured you could use some manpower to cover your backs. You’ve seen me in a scuffle a time or two, and know I can handle myself. I can be an asset to both of you, providing security.”

  Travis remembered a brawl outside the noncommissioned officers’ club a few years back. It had taken four MPs to finally bring McNeely down. He was a stubborn, vicious opponent, but McNeely thrived on danger and met any threat head-on. That was fine in certain fights, but Fox’s best chance lay in avoiding a confrontation, and that was what good security did best. McNeely’s brand of help was the last thing either of them needed.

  “I appreciate the offer, but Fox has the Marshals Service to take care of her, and they make all the calls on protection. After the Prescott case is closed and they’re out of her life, I think she plans to take off and travel.”

  McNeely gestured out the window to the passenger in the truck. “My cousin Billy and I are looking for security work, and traveling is no problem. We’d be great bodyguards.”

  Travis shook his head. “Once this is over, Fox wants to be on her own. She’s had it with bodyguards.”

  “That’s too bad,” McNeely said, heading back toward the door. “I could have done a fine job of keeping her safe. You know that. Talk to her, and let me know if she changes her mind. I don’t have a phone, but my cousin Lori works at the Last Stop Café. You can leave a message with her.”

  McNeely’s eyes were cold as he met Travis’s level gaze and held it. Finally, he looked away. Travis’s gut feeling told him he’d just been challenged—a subtle warning between potential opponents. McNeely was a man for hire, and probably didn’t much care which side he was on.

  “Good luck at finding work,” Travis said slowly. “But I’d be careful, if I were you, who you sign on with. For your sake, I wouldn’t want us to end up locking horns.”

  McNeely laughed. “If we ever do meet on opposite sides, I’ll have the edge. You play by too many rules.”

  Travis’s smile was lethal. “In a fight for survival, there’s only one rule—win.”

  McNeely nodded, then walked out the door.

  Travis stood by the window until the truck disappeared from view. Hearing soft footsteps, he turned his head and saw Fox approach.

  “He’s gone, right?” Fox was wearing the dark-haired wig Casey had given her when she’d been under the lady deputy marshal’s protection.

  Travis hated the wig, but considering that Fox’s blond hair was a sure giveaway around here, he was glad she still had it. He glanced down at the rolling pin in her hand. “About to make tortillas, or did you plan on taking a swing at McNeely?”

  “I may not have your training, but I can and will defend myself. The instinct to survive isn’t limited to soldiers. And while I’m on this subject, maybe we should consider finding another place to stay. Our next visitor may not be as polite as McNeely was.”

  They spent the next half hour gathering everything they could that was linked to the Johnsons past. Old photo albums, the Bible, files and even Chance were carefully placed inside boxes and loaded into the Johnsons’ carryall truck.

  As she packed, Fox prayed for the courage she’d need to face what was yet to come. Instinct told her that nothing would ever be the same for her again after she left here today. She looked around with a heavy heart. It was time to say goodbye to the life she’d known, and start searching through its ashes.

  Glancing over at her, Travis saw the pain mirrored in her eyes. “This is still your home, Fox. You’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Until I know who I am and what part my being here played in Mom and Dad’s death, I don’t have the right to call this place home.”

  “Cut yourself a little slack,” he said gently. “Things that are beyond your control are not your fault.”

  “Now you sound like Dad,” she answered, sadness tainting her words.

  “No, I’m not like Nick. I learned from him, and I’m grateful for what he did for us, but he and I were completely different from each other.”

  “You were never really that close to Mom and Dad, were you?” she asked, her eyes filled with questions.

  “I liked and respected the Johnsons, and I would have done anything for them. But they weren’t my real parents. I remember my mother and father too well ever to have accepted anyone else as a substitute.” He was relieved when he saw understanding instead of anger in her eyes.

  Although he owed the Johnsons a great deal, he’d never opened his heart to them. The one hard-and-fast rule he’d followed in his life was, Never surrender both your heart and your mind to anything at the same time. It left nothing to hold on to when things went wrong—and things always went wrong, sooner or later.

  “I’m ready. Let’s go before someone else shows up.” Fox reached for her windbreaker.

  “Let’s wait a little longer until Casey and Ashe check in with us. Once we have more information to go on, we can discuss our options with them.”

  “No, I’m through waiting to see what will happen next. It’s time to make things happen. I’m going now. I have my own set of keys to the carryall. You can either come with me, or stay and wait.” Fox opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

  “Wait, at least give me a chance to call them first.” Muttering an oath, Travis jogged to catch her before she reached the truck. “Don’t be so stubborn.”

  “You mean, don’t do anything you disagree with.” Fox turned to face him and then froze, staring at something behind Travis.

  “What is it?” Travis turned his head, trying to see what had caught her attention. As he spotted the figure up on the hill, Fox started to walk quickly in that direction.

  “I’m going to find out who that is up there,” she said.

  “No, wait! They could be armed.” Travis ran after Fox, who by now was jogging toward the hill. Lunging forward, he pulled her to the ground, pinning her there.

  “Let go of me!” She tried to break free of his grasp but he wouldn’t release her.

  “Stop fighting me and listen. I caught a glimpse of a flash that might have come from a rifle scope. You’re not going to find anything but a bullet unless you chill out.” Travis felt her squirming beneath him and had to bite back a groan. As her legs parted slightly and he settled between them naturally, desire blasted through him.

  He couldn’t think straight. Hell, he couldn’t even breathe. His body was on fire and growing hotter by the second. He stared down at her. Fox’s eyes were flashing and her face was flushed. Her chest rose in deep breaths. His body ached for hers, but he knew his duty and would honor it.

  He rolled to one side and pulled her behind the cover of so
me tall grass. “Stay put, will you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Okay,” Fox whispered, her voice as uneven as her breathing. “But I still want to see who’s up there. How can we do it without getting shot?”

  “We’ll stay low, work our way around the side of the hill, and come out behind whoever it is.” Travis moved forward in a crouch and motioned for her to follow.

  The climb was a familiar one to both of them and it didn’t take them long to reach the summit. But, by then, no one was around. The curve in the gravel road was only fifty feet away, and a faint trail of dust showed where a vehicle had passed. It was nowhere to be seen now, however.

  Travis studied the ground, searching for footprints but finding none. “It looks like our watcher went to a considerable amount of trouble to smooth out his tracks before leaving. It’s skillfully done, too.”

  “For whatever reason, he didn’t want a confrontation here,” Fox added thoughtfully. “Even if he did have a rifle.”

  Travis stepped over to a glass bottle that lay on the ground nearby. “It still has a bit of soda in it, and there’s no cap. In the warm air this time of year, the liquid would have evaporated pretty fast, so our watcher must have brought it here. Let’s take this down with us. Ashe may be able to lift some fingerprints from it.”

  Once back down the hill and inside the house, Travis called Ashe and quickly filled his brother in on what they’d found, and their plans to leave.

  “Ashe has dispatched a patrol car to search the area for our visitor or anyone lurking around,” Travis said after hanging up. “He’ll also be by as soon as he can to pick up the bottle and talk to us. He asked that we wait here for him.”

  “I’ll compromise with you. I’ll stay until dark, but he’d better show up or he’ll have the place to himself.”

  Travis watched Fox as she walked across the room, confident, unaware of her own sexuality or the effect it had on him. Someday soon she’d welcome a man into her life and learn to embrace the passion that was so much a part of her. Heat flashed through him as he pictured himself as that man, her soft breasts against his own naked skin, their bodies locked together.