by Laura Scott
“Leave?” Once again he knocked her off-balance. “Why are we leaving so soon?”
He didn’t answer right away, a trait that annoyed her.
“Well?” She pulled two mugs out of the cabinet and set them beside the coffeepot. “I thought you said we were safe here.”
He filled a teapot with water and put it on the stove. “We are, but it’s only a matter of time before they track us here.”
Her stomach clenched. “They? Who?”
“The men who came for you last night. They’ll find out my name and will search for my license plate number and for any other properties that I might own. That will lead them here, to this cabin.”
His words sent a chill down her spine. “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”
“I know. I’m sorry, but we’ll stay one step ahead of them.”
She poured two mugs of coffee and, since there wasn’t any milk, made do with adding sugar to hers before handing him the one that was black. Their fingers brushed and she was startled by the tingle of awareness she felt. What was wrong with her? This was the wrong time, wrong place and definitely the wrong man!
“You said we need to talk.”
He nodded before taking a sip from his mug. “It’s a long story, goes back a couple of years.”
“Okay.” She took a seat at the table. “I’m listening.”
“I used to be in the military,” he said, his blue gaze centered on hers.
“I thought so,” she said with a nod. “Just like James.” At his silent stare, she added, “My husband.”
“Yeah. Well.” Hawk looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “I—I did a lot of work that was considered classified.”
Just like James, but this time she didn’t voice the comparison out loud.
“I was on a team with three other guys,” he went on and suddenly a bad feeling came over her.
“You were with James, weren’t you? Is that what you’ve been trying to tell me? That you knew my husband?” She knew her voice was getting louder but couldn’t stop it. “All this time, you knew James but never said anything?”
“Jilly, please, just listen for a minute,” he begged.
She sucked in a harsh breath. “What did you call me?”
Hawk winced and blanched. “I—uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so familiar...”
“No.” She rose to her feet and took a step back from him, her mind whirling. He’d called her Jilly, just like James used to.
Then she remembered that brief moment in the bedroom when she’d thought Hawk was actually James. She stared at him, her thoughts spinning out of control.
“Jillian, I’m sorry to tell you like this. But I was sent on a secret mission, and me and my team saw something we shouldn’t have. We were flown home to be debriefed by the Pentagon, only there was a storm that took us further west. We ended up landing in Columbus, Ohio, and they stuck us in a small prop plane. We crashed in the Appalachian Mountains. Everyone died in the crash except for me. And I—” his voice trailed off for a long moment before he continued “—I was badly injured. I had no memory, no ability to walk, my face was damaged beyond recognition and I still don’t know how I managed to survive.”
“You—you’re James?” The blood drained from her face and she collapsed in the chair she’d just vacated. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m Hawk,” he corrected. “I didn’t even remember my name for a full year. I only remember watching hawks flying over my head for days on end, so that’s the name I went with. I picked Jacobson because I had some dim memory of my father being named Jacob.”
Her heart squeezed in her chest at what he’d gone through. Then she realized what he’d said. “But you did eventually realize you were James, right? And chose not to come home to me. To us.”
“That’s not entirely true. I didn’t remember you right away, and when I did, there were only bits and pieces. I stayed away because after the crash I saw men combing the woods, searching for me.” Hawk’s expression went cold. “They were not there to rescue me but to kill me. They had guns, Jilly. And if the older couple who’d found me hadn’t sheltered me from those men, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“But what about five months ago?” she persisted. “You moved in next door to me on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” The teakettle whistled and he quickly removed it from the burner. “I came to Milwaukee because I knew you had family here and wouldn’t have stayed at Fort Bragg. Even then, it took me a while to find you in Brookland. Once I did, I couldn’t stay away. I needed to make sure you were safe.”
She couldn’t argue that he had saved them.
“I want you to know I won’t hold you to anything,” Hawk continued. “James as you knew him is gone. Hawk was the lone survivor of that plane crash. Where we go from here is totally up to you.”
“Where we go from here?” The realization of what he was saying sank deep.
Hawk was James. He was her husband. Lizzy’s father.
And she had absolutely no idea where to go from here.
THREE
Hawk busied himself with making a bowl of instant oatmeal for Jillian. The truth hung between them like a dark storm cloud, threatening to burst, bringing snow and ice pelting down. Telling her the story wasn’t as difficult as he’d anticipated, but he wasn’t sure the truth had fully sunk in yet.
He’d been honest with her when he’d claimed James was dead. That year he spent hiding in the mountains, recuperating from his injuries, had changed him. James had died in the plane crash, leaving a man called Hawk behind.
That he’d survived when the rest of his team had died haunted him still. The Callahans would claim God had a plan, but he didn’t believe it. Not the way he used to. He’d lost his entire life that day.
Even now, sometimes he awoke from a nightmare, hearing his team’s screams as the plane plummeted down into the mountainside. Only to realize it was his throat that was sore from screaming.
His time on the mountain was a blur. He’d lost track of the days that had passed, the hours that had gone by while he watched a pair of hawks flying high in the sky. He’d dragged himself down the mountain, inch by painful inch, with no particular destination in mind. Thankfully, he’d eventually come across a cabin tucked into the woods. It was actually the garden offering fresh vegetables that had caught his eye. He’d been helping himself to fresh tomatoes and cucumbers when Jolene and Ken Thornhill had found him.
Ken had carried a shotgun, but one look at Hawk’s scars had him putting the weapon away. Hawk had convinced them not to call the authorities, and the couple, being mountain people and distrustful of the cops anyway, had readily agreed. The Thornhills helped get him back on his feet. Their home remedies worked just as well as any hospital-based therapy.
Except for the scar.
And when the men with guns had come looking for him, they’d hidden him in their root cellar until they were gone. Hawk was convinced the men were soldiers sent by Barton to find him and silence him for good. Especially since the plane had gone down after conveniently springing a fuel leak.
He owed the Thornhills his life. But they hadn’t wanted any form of payment. He’d sent them cash when he’d managed to work enough to get some, but the money had come back to him as undeliverable.
Shaking himself from thoughts of the past, he carried the bowl of oatmeal to the table and set it in front of Jillian. She hadn’t said anything for the past several minutes and, even now, avoided looking directly at him.
“Eat,” he encouraged softly. “You’ll need to keep up your strength.”
She obediently picked up the spoon and took a small bite. Lizzy chose that moment to come out of the bedroom rubbing her sleepy eyes, looking adorable in her pink footie pajamas.
“I hav’ta go potty.”
“Sure. This way, sweetie.” Ji
llian jumped up from the table and crossed over to their daughter, steering her into the bathroom.
Hawk put the kettle back on to boil, hoping Lizzy liked oatmeal. He had no idea what his daughter liked to eat or her favorite things to do. He’d noticed a dollhouse in the corner of her bedroom and now wished he’d thought to bring some of the dolls along for her to play with.
At least she had her teddy bear. The one she’d clutched protectively as he’d pulled her from beneath the bed.
He glanced at his watch, estimating how much time they had before they needed to hit the road. Less than an hour. Doable, but only if Jillian and Lizzy finished their breakfast ASAP.
The teakettle whistled as Jillian and Lizzy emerged from the bathroom. Lizzy clapped her hands over her ears.
“Too loud!”
Hawk winced, nodded and moved the kettle, adding hot water to two more bowls of oatmeal. Then he carried them to the kitchen table, setting one down near Jillian’s bowl and taking his to the other side.
Jillian lifted Lizzy onto her lap. It pained him to know Lizzy wouldn’t want to sit with him. As he watched, Jillian bowed her head and softly thanked God for the food she was about to eat. He was reminded of how the Callahans always prayed out loud before meals, but he’d never joined in.
No one spoke for several long moments as they ate. And it was Lizzy who eventually broke the silence.
“Can we go home, Mommy?”
The question hit him in the face like a blow. He looked at Jillian, unsure if he should speak up or not.
“Not today, sweetie.” Jillian hitched the little girl higher on her lap. “Finish up your oatmeal like a good girl.”
“We can try to find a place that’s kid-friendly,” he offered. “I know a place that rents individual cabins. It’s not too far away and has a playground I’m sure Lizzy would love.”
Jillian shrugged. “Whatever you think is best. We’ll make the most of wherever we end up, won’t we Lizzy-girl?”
Lizzy nodded her head, her drooping pigtails bobbing up and down. His daughter’s hair was dark, like his, without any sign of Jillian’s reddish glints. But the rest of her features were mirror images of her mother’s. She’d be just as beautiful as Jillian someday.
He finished his meal before they did and carried his dishes to the sink. “We’ll need to leave soon.”
“Okay.” Jillian’s voice sounded resigned.
There was no point in saying anything further; moving again was necessary in order to keep them alive. And while he still felt terrible knowing that he’d brought danger to their doorstep, the only thing he could do now was to stay ahead of the danger curve.
He took his turn in the bathroom, spending less than ten minutes. He heard Jillian and Lizzy’s voices in their bedroom and hoped they were getting their things together.
Thankfully, Jillian had done the dishes, so there was nothing more that needed his attention. He pulled on his leather coat, grabbed his keys and waited, gazing out through the large picture window of the living room.
A movement outside caught his attention. He froze, his gaze tracking the shifting of leaves and the sudden uprising of a bird from the bushes.
Too late! They’d found the cabin.
He hurried into the bedroom as Jillian was trying to coax the teddy bear from Lizzy’s grip. “We need to go. Get your coats, leave the duffel behind. We’re heading out the back.”
“The back?” The confusion in Jillian’s green gaze morphed into fear. She instantly yanked the bear away, shoved Lizzy’s coat on, then hers, before lifting Lizzy into her arms. She returned the teddy bear hoping the stuffed animal would help keep Lizzy calm. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “They’re here?”
He nodded, gently pulling her toward him. Ushering her into his bedroom and to the back doorway he had built in there just for this type of thing, he considered their options. First, they needed to get out of the cabin and deeper into the woods without leaving a blatant footprint trail behind. Using the SUV was out of the question; the hostiles were too close. He’d have to make do with the snowmobile he had hidden in the woods toward the back of his property.
Outside, the December air was crisp and cool despite the sunshine. Keeping Jillian in front of him, he covered their backs as he guided them into the woods. He could tell Jillian was trying to move silently, but to his ears it sounded as if they were a stampede of elephants announcing their location to anyone within a fifty-mile radius. He worried, too, about leaving footprints in the snow. The snow wasn’t deep and there were spots where there were leafy areas to step on as a way to mitigate the risk.
Thankfully, Lizzy didn’t say anything but kept her head tucked against her mother’s shoulder, still gripping the tattered teddy bear. He wished the little girl trusted him enough to allow him to carry her, knowing they’d be able to move more quickly. But he didn’t want to risk her tears.
Knowing the woods helped. Prior to renting the house next to Jillian’s he’d spent a lot of time up here. The place had reminded him of the Thornhill cabin in the mountains.
The cluster of bushes he’d been aiming for was straight ahead. He picked up his pace, moving ahead. Jillian did her best to keep up, but her foot got caught on a branch. He managed to catch her before she hit the ground.
He gently set her on her feet and gestured toward the cluster of bushes. She nodded her understanding and headed in that direction. Hawk continued sweeping his gaze over the area, looking for signs the hostiles were near, surprised that they hadn’t covered the back side of the cabin but had chosen to come in from the front and the west.
Although he knew there very well could be more.
When they reached the cluster of bushes, he carved out a small space with his hands and drew Jillian down. “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.”
She clutched at his arm. “Don’t leave us,” she begged.
It wasn’t by choice but out of necessity. He leaned down so his mouth was near her ear. “I have a snowmobile nearby. I promise I’ll be quick.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she gave a jerky nod, showing she understood. He drew out his gun and handed it to her. This time she didn’t protest but clutched it with both hands while keeping one arm around Lizzy, holding her close.
He hesitated. There was so much he wanted to say, but there wasn’t time. He needed to move, to draw the hostiles away from Jillian and Lizzy.
He’d willingly sacrifice himself to keep them alive and safe.
* * *
This was so much worse than waiting in the car. Since they were surrounded by snow-covered trees and bushes, any sense of being safe was eroded by the cold breeze that made her shiver. Her fingers were beginning to go numb, but she didn’t dare let go of the gun.
She silently prayed that God would watch over them. Keeping an internal monologue in her head helped keep her fear in check. Hawk would return for them. He had a snowmobile nearby and would be here soon. He wouldn’t let the men combing the woods reach her and Lizzy.
Hawk was James, except he wasn’t. Her husband had never moved so stealthily. Her husband had smiled and laughed often, and while he may not have been verbose, he certainly had spoken more than Hawk did.
Nevertheless, he was her husband. She was still married to the man. Wasn’t she? Maybe not, since James had been declared dead. But he wasn’t dead, not really. He was just—different. Thinking about it made her head hurt. It was all so confusing.
Come on, Hawk, where are you?
“Mommy?” Lizzy lifted her head.
“Shh,” she whispered.
Lizzy wiggled a little and Jillian feared her daughter wasn’t going to stay silent much longer. Hoping and praying Hawk would return soon, she kept her mouth right near her daughter’s ear.
“Be quiet for just a little while longer.”
Lizzy nodded her head and leaned against
her, rubbing her cheek against the teddy bear’s head.
Jillian let out a sigh of relief. So far, so good.
A twig snapped. The sound sent a stab of terror deep into her stomach. She went still, her breath locked in her throat and her heart thundering in her chest. She pressed Lizzy’s face against her chest, hoping the little girl wouldn’t do or say something to give them away.
Since rediscovering the church after moving to Wisconsin, she’d leaned on God often and didn’t hesitate to do that again, now.
Please keep us safe, Lord! Please!
The sound of rustling leaves seemed close. She imagined one of the black ski-masked men making his way toward their hiding spot. How much longer? She dreaded every passing second, fearing the worst.
Then abruptly there was an oomph sound and a muffled thud. Still, she didn’t move, didn’t so much as blink. She wanted desperately to believe Hawk had taken care of the guy, but for all she knew, he’d fallen flat on his face the way she nearly had a few minutes ago.
Another ten seconds passed. She strained to listen but heard nothing.
Suddenly Hawk loomed in front of them, a streak of dirt covering his scar. He gave a nod and held out his hand. She shakily put her hand in his, allowing him to pull her and Lizzy to her feet.
She wanted to ask what was going on, but as if he sensed her intent, he lifted a finger to his lips. She nodded in understanding.
They weren’t safe yet. And it struck her then that they may never be safe again.
From this moment on, safety could very well be nothing more than an illusion.
Hawk gently but firmly pulled her in a different direction. She couldn’t tell if they were going closer toward the cabin or farther away. It wasn’t easy to navigate while carrying Lizzy, because she couldn’t see her feet. Twice she felt a branch of some sort pressing against her shin, making her lift her foot higher to get over it.
They moved through the dense woods in what felt like slow motion. But soon enough, Hawk tugged on her arm, indicating they could stop here.