by Joanna Wayne
Only it did affect him. Even now his body language shouted that he’d withdrawn not only from her but from himself.
“My dad was a hulk of a man with a deep laugh that sounded like it came from deep in his belly. He told jokes and clapped people on the back and could spit a stream of tobacco off the porch of our little house and never get a drop of it on the banister.
“All the wranglers who worked for him liked him. They liked me, too. They taught me to ride a horse and rope a calf and, when I was older, how to cinch up an ornery bronco and ride him rodeo-style. But they were all the friends I had. I never invited anyone from school to visit. I never knew when Dad would hit the whiskey and I was afraid of what he might do to them.”
Hawk stood and started to pace the small guest room. His muscles were flexed, his abs ripped, his biceps defined and rock-hard. He was every inch a man, yet she could see the frightened little boy in him and it touched her in a way his hero status never could.
“I guess I loved him in a way,” Hawk said. “It never occurred to me not to. He was my dad. But when he got drunk, he got mean. I tried to stay out of his way, spent lots of nights sleeping outside on the ground or sneaking in the bunkhouse and climbing in an empty bunk.
“Sometimes there was no staying out of his way. Those were the nights he beat me.”
Hawk stopped pacing and stared out the window, moving the dainty white lace curtains back with his rough hand. She ached to go to him, lay her face against his broad shoulders and wrap her arms around his waist.
He was so deep inside himself now, so cut off from her and the man he’d become that he might not even feel her body pressed against his. But if he did, he’d stop talking and he needed to get this out as much for him as for her.
“Oddly the most vivid memories for me are the first time he beat me and the last. The others all run together. The first time was right after my mother left. I was crying for her and he yelled at me to shut up. When I didn’t, he kept yelling and cursing, telling me I was the reason she’d left and that I was the sniveling kid they’d never wanted in the first place.”
And he’d been only six. The age Lucy was now. What if someone were doing these things to her Lucy?
Alonsa internalized Hawk’s hurt, pulling it into her heart and meshing it with her own until her chest felt like it was etched with barbwire. How could anyone do that to a child?
But people did. Hawk was living proof of it.
Hawk propped his hand on the window frame. “Sometimes his belt buckle would cut me up so bad that the open wounds hurt too much the next day for me to wear clothes. I’d stay inside and watch TV and tell myself it was worth the beating because I was missing school.
“It was like a holiday in some ways because Dad was always sorry after he’d beat me. He wouldn’t say it, but he’d be really nice for a few days. Super Dad, I’d call him. He liked that.”
He stayed quiet so long she thought he was through talking, but still he didn’t leave the window and never once turned to make eye contact.
“What happened the last time?” she finally whispered. “What made it finally stop?”
“A gun.”
His voice dropped so low she had to strain to hear him. She eased to the foot of the bed so she’d be closer.
“The older I got the worse the beatings got. The week after my sixteenth birthday I came home about six on a Saturday night after winning my first bronc-riding competition. I was flying high and couldn’t wait to tell Dad about winning.”
Hawk’s shoulders sagged now as if he were folding in on himself.
“He was drunk. And I was as strong as he was by then and in no mood for it. When he hit me, I punched him back. He went to the kitchen and got a fish knife. The first slash cut deep and I didn’t have a chance after that. He cut me up bad. I thought he might have killed me.”
“What happened then?”
“He passed out and I crawled outside and did the same, only I was unconscious because I’d lost so much blood. One of the wranglers found me in the morning lying in a pool of my own blood. He took me to the owner’s house and they got me to the hospital. I never told anyone who’d left me in that shape and the owner and the wranglers never asked.”
Because they knew. They had to know that Hawk was getting beaten all those years, but no one ever stopped it. The sin of it was on all their heads, but no one had paid like Hawk.
“I’d made up my mind while I was in the hospital that I was leaving the ranch. I figured I could find a job wrangling for another rancher in the area. I’d been doing it since I was six. I liked doing it.”
“Did you leave?” she whispered.
“No.” Finally Hawk turned and faced her. “When I got home I found my dad’s body and a note. He’d put a pistol inside his mouth and pulled the trigger. The note just said he loved me and that he was sorry. He’d never once said those words to me while he was alive.”
She pulled her feet onto the bed and hugged her legs to her chest the way she longed to hug Hawk. It was easy to see how he’d become such a hero in the service. He’d been proving himself over and over. He still was. Only now he was the one beating himself up.
“You’re not that little boy any longer, Hawk.”
“I know that. It’s over and done, but I am who I am, Alonsa. I shut off my emotions years ago and there’s no spigot for turning them back on.”
“The spigot’s not turned off, Hawk. You purposely withdraw. You close yourself off and try not to feel, but you still have emotions.”
“Don’t lecture, Alonsa. I’ve had enough of those in my lifetime.”
“I’m just trying to reach you, Hawk.”
“Don’t. I told you what you wanted to hear. Now just let it go.”
“What exactly does that mean, Hawk? That I shouldn’t care about you, that I shouldn’t want you in my life? That we shouldn’t kiss or touch or make love because you might inadvertently feel something and blow all your excuses for not forming attachments?”
“We can play it any way you want, Alonsa. When this is settled and you’re safe and we know exactly what’s become of Lucy, I can either stay or go. Just don’t go building your life around me. I’ll only let you down.”
He had it all down pat. Love them and leave them so ending up alone would never be his fault. She wasn’t a psychologist, but she could see through that theory.
“I’m sorry for what happened to you growing up, Hawk, but it’s time you stop selling yourself short. You connect just fine when you choose to connect.
“You connect with your SEAL buddies. You connected with me for a while today, being there for me when I was hanging on to stability by a thread. You’ve even connected on some level with Lucy and you’ve never even met her.”
She stood and walked to the door, fighting to hold back her tears. She wanted to fall into Hawk’s arms, but not when the end result would be him pushing her away.
“If you let me down it will be because you’re afraid of losing again the way you lost your mother and father. Well, I’m scared of losing, too, Hawk. I’m scared of losing a chance to find out what we could be together. I’m scared of never finding out if we could make each other happy for the rest of our lives.
“All I want is a chance. You decide if you’re willing to give that to us.”
Tears burned her eyes when she walked away. Immediately after Hawk had dealt with his childhood demons was probably not the best time to have issued an ultimatum. But she’d had a horribly rotten day, too.
She was emotional. And she’d meant every word that she’d said. She’d love a chance with Hawk but she couldn’t make that happen by herself.
She went upstairs, but instead of going to her room, she went to Lucy’s. She threw herself across the flowered quilt and wet it with her tears. In spite of anything Hawk might think about himself, he was a man you could depend on. He’d find her precious daughter and bring her home.
If Alonsa never received another blessing, having
Lucy home again would be more than enough to make her grateful for the rest of her life.
HAWK FOUGHT THE NOONTIME traffic with the ferocity he’d once reserved for incoming fire. Better to focus on the idiot drivers weaving from one lane to another at seventy miles an hour than to think about Alonsa.
He’d given her what she wanted, dug up memories he’d devoted half his life to forgetting, but was she satisfied? No way. She still had some half-cocked notion that they could make a go of a relationship if he’d just give it a chance.
She thought he was scared instead of scarred.
Scared. Him. Hawk Taylor, navy SEAL. Well, baby, he wasn’t scared of anything.
Except of not making love to Alonsa again.
He might as well face the fact. He’d wanted her so badly this morning he was almost reduced to begging her to drive into town with him so they could make a return visit to the B and B.
But making love to her wouldn’t solve the problem. It would only complicate the issues and make him want her more.
He changed lanes so he could take the Hardy Toll Road exit. It would get him to town quicker and avoid some of the traffic. He was eager to get the picture and the envelope it had come in to the FBI agent Craig had contacted.
One good definitive fingerprint could lead them to Lucy’s abductor. He was a lot more worried about that little girl than he’d admitted to Alonsa. When you were dealing with a psychopath anything could happen.
His cell phone rang. He flipped on the speaker switch so he could keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel.
“Hawk Taylor.”
“Morning. It’s Mitch Gavin, Todd’s friend.”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“I’ve been looking at that picture and trying to figure out where I might have seen that woman before.”
“Any luck?”
“I’m not sure but I think it could be that stalker babe I told you about.”
“Michele.”
“Right, or something similar to that. She looks different in the drawing than she did in the picture I saw, but I swear there’s something about it that makes me think of her—maybe the eyes. She might just be crazy enough to pull a stunt like that.”
“I’ll need more than Michele. Is there any way you can get me a last name?”
“You can call Craig Dalliers. He’ll know it. He’s the one who fired her.”
“Whoa, buddy. Are you saying that Michele worked for the FBI?”
“She was one of their best agents before she went bonkers and started making up lies and sabotaging Todd’s cases. I told you that, didn’t I?”
“You said she got fired. You never said she worked with Todd. But, hey, it’s cool. I’m just glad you called.”
More than glad. He wasn’t going to break his arm patting himself on the back yet, but he might have just hit the jackpot.
He called Craig the second he broke off with Mitch, but got his voice mail. He left a message for Craig to call him ASAP. Too bad they hadn’t sent Craig a copy of the sketch. He might have come up with an ID last week.
It had never crossed his mind that the FBI could have searched for Lucy’s abductor for two years and just plain overlooked a suspect who’d sprung right out of their midst. It was like never expecting the serial killer to live next door.
But maybe not. If she’d required cosmetic surgery after the car crash she might look significantly different than when she worked for the Bureau.
Since Michele had worked for the Bureau, her prints would definitely be on file. If she was guilty, one good print on either the picture or the envelope could seal the deal against her.
Then all that would be left was to track her down and hope for the miracle that Lucy was still alive.
He started to call Alonsa, but decided to wait until he’d talked to Craig. She’d had her hopes crushed too many times already.
But this time he had a gut feeling that they were on a roll.
“YOU’RE PREGNANT? Really?”
Alonsa jumped from the porch step where she’d been sitting and pulled Linney into a hug. “This is so exciting. How long have you known?”
“I got the official word from the doctor yesterday after you guys picked up Brandon. I had no idea. I’d just gone in for my regular checkup and he asked me about my period.”
“Surely you keep up with that.”
“Normally, but with the big party for Marcus and Dani and everything else that’s been going on, I just didn’t notice I was almost three weeks late.”
“Have you told Cutter?”
“Last night. I couldn’t wait. He’s ecstatic.”
“Well, I guess. Lucky kid to have you two lovebirds for parents.”
“I’ll have lots of questions to ask you about pregnancy. You know, you should move in with us until your situation blows over.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I don’t see why not,” Linney insisted. “We have plenty of room and it would be safe here for you and Brandon. Cutter and Hawk are both here some of the time and Aurelio is here 24/7. Not to mention that I have three wranglers working for me now.”
“I can’t impose on you like that.”
“You wouldn’t be imposing. At least stay here days, and Hawk can stay at your place nights when he’s not away working the case. And it will just be until they arrest whoever left that picture in your mailbox yesterday.”
“We’ll see,” Alonsa said, “but after spending this morning with me and Carne and having Brandon join us after preschool, you may renege on that offer.”
“Not a chance,” Linney protested.
“I would like to spend some time with you, though,” Alonsa admitted. “I need to pick your brain.”
“About what?”
“I’m thinking of acquiring a small herd of cattle and I need information on what brands I should invest in.”
Linney’s brows arched. “You’re going into ranching.”
“You sound surprised.”
“A little, but pleasantly so. You always talked of moving back to New York. I got the impression you didn’t really like it in Dobbin.”
“It took some getting used to, but I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think it’s where I’d like to raise Lucy and Brandon. When Lucy comes home, she’ll need lots of security and lots of time with me. I want to be able to give her both of those. I think it will be easier to make that happen here.”
Linney reached over and hugged her. “You’re so brave, Alonsa. I don’t know if I could have the courage you do.”
“You mean because I plan my life assuming that we’ll find Lucy?”
“I didn’t mean it to come out that way, but you do keep up such a brave front and try to stay positive.”
“I’m not brave for believing Lucy will be returned to me, Linney. I’m just not strong enough to face the thought that she might not.”
Nonetheless, Alonsa was determined to make plans that worked for her, with or without Hawk Taylor. Her feelings for Hawk ran deep, stronger than she’d have ever imagined she could feel for any man in so short a time.
She might even love him. But his past and the way he handled it might not ever let him love her.
“Will you excuse me for a minute, Linney? I need to call Esteban and see what he has on his schedule for me this week. If I’m going to buy cattle I’d better start earning some money.”
“If Esteban needs you to make a call this afternoon, I’ll be glad to watch Brandon for you.”
“I can’t ask you to. You’re pregnant. You don’t need a rambunctious kid to watch.”
“That’s exactly what I need. I can use the practice.”
“In that case, I just may take you up on the offer.”
Better to stay busy than to mope around because Hawk had practically pushed himself out of her life.
HAWK’S APPOINTMENT was for one o’clock. He’d arrived twenty minutes early and expected to have to wait. Instead the young receptionist ushered h
im straight into the office of FBI Agent Sylvia Colby.
Agent Colby looked to be in her early thirties, with nice legs and pretty hair. No wedding band. If he hadn’t been downright dizzily infatuated with Alonsa, he might have returned her smile with a little more enthusiasm. As it was, the only action he was looking for was on his prints.
She examined the picture through the plastic bag. Her expression turned grim. “That is really sick.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re trying to prove the person who sent it abducted the little girl in the picture?”
“The girl’s Lucy Salatoya and there’s a history of the girl’s mother being tormented by this woman ever since she stole her daughter.”
“Lucy Salatoya. Isn’t that the little girl who was taken from the Houston Zoo a few years back?”
“Two years ago. Are you familiar with the case?”
“I wasn’t in Texas at the time, but I remember the situation. Her father was an agent in the New York office before he was killed in a drug bust.”
So she did have some facts. His interest heightened. “Did you ever hear of a woman named Michele who worked in that same office? I don’t know her last name, but she was fired for manipulating evidence.”
“Are you talking about Michele Ballentine?”
“Could be. What’s her story?”
“It’s in the FBI annals of weird agent tales. I don’t see why I can’t share it with you since it made all the newspapers at the time.”
“I’d love to hear it.” In fact he couldn’t wait.
“She was fired for tampering with evidence and then going to outlandish measures to cover up her crime. She went berserk and somehow wormed her way back into the office one night and slashed hundreds of files. Then she filed suit to get her job back saying her behavior was caused by undue stress from the firing.”
“Do you have any pictures of her?”
“I’m sure we have a file on her, but it may not include photos. Charges were dropped when she checked herself into a mental hospital.”