The Apprentice

by Jana Barkley

  Sam’s eyes grew wide.

  “You didn’t know, did you? You thought she walked out on him.”

  Sam nodded.

  “He was still attached to her in so many ways—you can’t help but be after a couple of years. But I think he’d reached his point of no return with the drinking, and then she met Grant.”

  Sam felt hesitant to speak. “Talking about him like this is what set him off against me. He said I was sneaking around trying to find out about him.”

  Mary Kate smiled sadly at her. “People are gonna talk,” she said. “Still, something doesn’t add up.”

  “What?”

  “He treats you different.”

  “How so?” Sam was sitting up tall, now.

  “Well, he watches you. A lot. I thought he was doing the sponsor/apprentice thing, checking out your technique with your bird, ʼcause I only saw you guys together in the field.

  “He’s also never said a negative thing about you to other people—that I know of. If anything, it’s all been good. If you knew Hank like I have, you’d see how weird that is. He’s always got something rough to sling at one falconer or another, no matter what their gender.”

  Sam sat back and scaned the black night surrounding them, and her heart beat a little faster.

  “What are you saying, Mary Kate?”

  “I’m not quite sure what I’m saying,” she said, “except maybe the relationship you guys have isn’t over. I don’t think he’s going to throw you out the door for being ‘bad.’” She laughed at this.

  Sam stared across the seat.

  Mary Kate shrugged, “Yeah, I know. I’m not speaking plain and simple. Just don’t want to speak out of turn—yet.” She threw Sam an evil grin.

  “What are you getting at?”

  She tossed a question back at her. “What do you want out of this relationship?”

  Sam fumbled for words. “I want a sponsor. Isn’t it obvious?”

  Mary Kate’s serious expression told her there could be no dancing around the subject.

  “I value his friendship. We’ve gotten close at times—it seems, well—oh, I don’t know.” Sam slumped in frustration.

  Mary Kate didn’t pursue it, just waited.

  Sam’s voice was subdued. “The hardest part for me is when I think we’re close, something like this craziness happens, and I’m his worst enemy. I don’t know if I can take this kind of roller coaster ride. Not now, at this time in my life.” Her voice faded out, and she wondered if she had the guts to spill her secret to Mary Kate.

  “Usually, I’d say this is his normal behavior. But like I said before, kiddo, it isn’t. Sure, he’s gotten pissed at me, and at others he calls friends, but not to this degree. In light of that, don’t you think he cares an awful lot about the relationship to get so upset over you thinking ill of him because of something someone said?”

  Sam felt her face flush hot, but the darkness blanketed everything, including her reaction. If she was honest, she’d admit her attraction to Hank. The desire had been growing daily, in spite of her good intentions. She leaned back in her seat and stared out the window. There was a large moon out, rising golden and misty to their left, spilling its hazy glow on the sage.

  “There’s something else,” she said. “I keep thinking about what he said out there when I confronted him.”

  Mary Kate turned in her seat, listening.

  “He accused me of lying—or at least of not being truthful.”

  “Same thing,” she said with a characteristic giggle.

  “Yeah, okay.” She took a deep breath before proceeding. “He said I was hiding something.”

  Mary Kate laughed a weary laugh. “Isn’t everyone?”

  “Maybe…maybe I don’t share everything about myself with him. Some things are personal and....I don’t know,” she ended in resignation, and went back to watching the desert.

  “Well,” said Mary Kate, with finality, “whatever he thinks you’re hiding, he’s gonna have to tell you what he thinks it is. In fact, until he’s willing to open up a little more and explain what he thinks you’ve done, there’s nothing else you can do, is there?”

  Sam agreed.

  “Look. It’s starting to snow.”

  The moon, now higher and larger above them, cast its golden glow, illuminating the tiny flakes falling softly on the plain and accumulating on the windshield.

  Mary Kate took in the surroundings. “And I enjoy getting out in this stuff.” She sighed. “Well, tonight we’d better focus on staying warm.”

  Sam realized the temperature in the van had cooled down over the past hour. Tucking her half of the blanket around her, she settled back in her seat. In the silence, Sam’s stomach growled, and both women laughed, but it reminded Sam of her other predicament out here. No food and no medicine. Her anti-anemia meds, and anti-emetic for nausea were back in the room at the lodge, and she’d need a full meal to stem the tide of both conditions. Crackers might not cut it. Any desire to postpone a reunion with Hank at the lodge was lost now, replaced by an ardent desire to be found and taken home.

  She glanced over at her friend, who had been quiet for the last half hour, and realized why. The regular sound of her breathing had deepened with sleep, and Sam felt more alone and isolated than ever. Still, the solitude bought her some moments to relax without scrutiny. Damn, was she ever tired of monitoring her reactions, her appearance, and everything she said. All so she wouldn’t have to give up the truth, that she had an illness that was most likely terminal; an illness that could take away what she loved most—Chance. If Hank or anybody tried to take her hawk away from her before it was his time to be released, they might as well take her life. That was the simple truth of it. Any regrets about whether she should have embarked on this journey were foolish at this point, and she tossed them out of her consciousness. She’d never let go of Chance as long as she could breathe and walk the field. Never.

  ****

  He couldn’t stop pacing. Where the hell was John? He’d insisted on being the one to drive the highway looking for those two idiots and Karen had been adamant he stay with her in case either of them tried to call. And if John hadn’t taken his car keys, saying he was too upset to drive in this weather, and if Karen hadn’t been hanging onto his arm, he’d have told both of them to go pound salt and taken care of this on his own.

  Still, Hank had gone back to the weathering yard and the parking lot, hoping he’d see a green minivan pull up any moment and relishing the torrent of expletives he wanted to unleash on Mary Kate for allowing this to happen. Seeing Sam’s SUV covered with snow in the parking lot didn’t help and he’d come back to the lodge fuming, insensible to the frigid air and how red his bare hands and head were getting from the cold.

  John was back, talking to Karen at the fireplace, and he stormed ahead to join them.

  “Well?” his voice was harsh.

  John shook his head.

  “That’s it,” he said, turning to go.

  “Now hold on a moment,” John snapped. “Let’s do this logically.”

  “Both of them have been out too long in this storm,” Hank gritted.

  “I know, I know,” John shot back, “And we’re gonna head back out, but let’s make a plan.”

  Hank felt like he was going to burst. Then he remembered the transmitter he’d told Mary Kate to give to Sam. He didn’t know if Sam had remembered to bring her transmitter in all of the emotional turmoil of the morning, and he sure as hell hadn’t wanted her flying a green hawk like Chance without one. He’d been pretty hot when he’d done it, and honestly, it had been an off-handed way to remind his apprentice he was still the one calling the shots by telling her to use it on her hawk.

  “Hold on,” he growled and stalked off to his truck in the parking lot with John and Karen close behind. Flipping the back open he reached in and pulled out his telemetry receiver. The faintest beeping sound made him breathe in a short, ragged breath and look at John.

  “Is t
hat them?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Yeah, I think it is,” Hank responded.

  They both jumped into action.

  “I’ll drive. I just filled my rig with gas,” John shouted. Hank closed up his truck and ran after him, receiver in hand.

  Manning: habituating a wild hawk to the presence of the falconer

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sometime past ten o’clock, Sam moved and realized she, too, had been sleeping. A glance at her cell phone told her the time. The windshield of the van was obscured by a dense blanket of snow. The cold seeping into her, despite her coat and blanket, had awakened her. She was shivering.

  “Mary Kate,” she said in a whisper.

  “I’m awake. Damn cold.” She shifted behind the wheel, trying to draw her legs up in the seat if they would fit. “You’d think those galoots would take a break from drinking at the bar to realize we should have been back.”

  It was the first time Sam heard a tinge of anxiety in the self-assured voice. She said a silent prayer to the universe for someone, anyone, to come.

  “You think the hawks are all right?”

  “They’re fine, hon. Just fine.”

  “Yeah, they’re used to being out in the cold. Probably warmer than we are.”

  Sam sat back, wishing she could do something, anything. Sitting still, shivering in this seat was crazy. Her mind drifted off to what was going on around them. Snow building up on the vehicle’s windows had made visibility impossible. She leaned her hat-covered head against the window and tried to relax. Pulling her body close to itself under the blanket, she drifted back within herself, forgetting the world around her.

  Sam jumped as the door she had been leaning on collapsed away from her. Her instincts worked like lightning despite her numb limbs. The door had been yanked open while she had been dreaming in a deep, fitful sleep. In her dream she had been walking in the snow and chasing after Chance, who was pursuing one rabbit after another and getting farther and farther away from her. The snow kept getting deeper as she swung her lure, calling for him to come back. Now, suddenly, she was awake, pushing away from arms reaching out to her from the open passenger door of the van.

  Headlights illuminated the snow, and she heard the sound of an engine. Mary Kate was gone and she was alone up front.

  “Sam, it’s okay. We’re here to take you home.”

  Her vision cleared, as did the rest of her senses, and she saw his face clear before her, his hand reaching out to help her. Oh, how she wanted to grab it and pull herself up to him. But her wary heart pushed her back, unwilling to see those cold, accusing eyes again.

  “Please, Sam. Let me help you.” His voice was anxious but soft, warming and coaxing her in spite of her misgivings. Her mistrust made her like a wild or injured animal. But she found no condemnation in those steely eyes, and she thought again of the bond forged between them when they worked to make her hawk take the hood. It tugged at her now, and she reached out to take his hand.

  His grip was firm and reassuring. She longed to be warm again. Unsteady legs, cold and weak from their confinement, made her sway when her feet hit the ground, but his arm wrapped around her waist and supported her to the waiting truck. Before she could protest, the back door of the king cab was opened by another person, and Hank had picked her up like a doll and deposited her inside next to Mary Kate. Sam was too weak to protest as warm blankets were thrown over her and her friend.

  “The hawks?” she asked. Reality set in fast, and Sam turned, looking for Chance’s box.

  “They got ʼem, kiddo.” Mary Kate smiled at her, and the two of them huddled up close.

  John and Hank had come searching for them when they didn’t show up at the lodge after dinnertime. On the ride back, the sound of John’s voice as he recounted their search and his jokes about finding two frozen women cheered her more than anything she could imagine. The warmth of the heater and the blankets worked their wonders, and before long, both she and Mary Kate were human again, just hungry and damned glad to be out of that van. They were even laughing as they pulled into the parking lot of the lodge.

  “How did you guys find us?” asked Mary Kate before getting out of the truck.

  John reached down and pulled up his telemetry receiver.

  Both women looked at each other, remembering Hank’s transmitter.

  John glanced over at Hank who got out hastily and went to the back to unload their gear. “Hank knew what frequency to look for. He said he’d given Sam his transmitter this morning.”

  So he’d been thinking ahead, looking out for them in spite of his anger. Sam caught Mary Kate’s meaningful look but chose to follow Hank’s lead and get out of the truck.

  The men helped them carry their gear and hawk boxes to their room and said they’d see them in the lobby. After putting the hawks to bed on their perches, both women bundled up again to head to the main lodge in search of food.

  As they rushed inside to get away from the chilly night air, a round of applause greeted them from the fireplace, where maybe twenty or more people were hanging out.

  “We were so worried about you,” said Karen, hugging Mary Kate and grabbing both their hands to pull them up to the fire.

  Two chairs were vacated, and Mike, who was leaning up against the mantel with a beer in his hand, called out to them. “Well, did you catch anything?”

  Laughter rose like a warm embrace.

  “Damned straight, we did,” said Mary Kate. “Two cottontails, and this one,” she said, pointing to Sam, “this one’s male red tail caught a six-pound jack.”

  Loud applause made Sam’s color rise. She searched the room and found Hank standing at the back of the group. Instead of condemnation, he gave her a smile and a nod. She knew he hated these groups and lots of attention. He’d rather stand back and let her find her hard-won place in the community. A small fear grew in her heart, telling her she had reached the ending of something. She had passed an initiation, and with it she felt a change, portending possible loss as well as gain. Glancing back, she caught sight of him walking away from the lobby and into the darkened, closed restaurant. From the way he moved, she could tell he did not want anyone to see him leave. Her heart pushed her to follow, but the other falconers sat her back down and made her recount Chance’s chase and kill several times. She had wanted this connection with the group so much, but she ached to be with Hank more. Perhaps this distraction was best. She could not let herself get attached to anyone. As in all matters dealing with her disease and her heart, she was on her own and would do well to remember her position. Still, things needed to be made right between them, and she would be the one to initiate it.

  Mary Kate was telling a hawking story and had her avid audience enthralled. Sam took it as her chance to excuse herself and step away. Across the lobby, she stopped and watched as Mary Kate held the room with her beautiful Irish accent and compelling imagery. Then Sam turned and walked through the darkened entrance to the restaurant.

  The scenic windows, which framed the sage flats around the lodge during the day, were illuminated by moonlight. His silhouette stood out against the edge of a far window, showing his tall, lean form in stark relief against the bright night as he gazed out onto the sage. The full force of her attraction nearly overwhelmed her. She allowed herself to relish the memory of his arm around her as he had walked her to the safety of a warm truck and put her inside. For all his desire to distance others and his hard veneer, she had seen past the cracks in the armor. In her heart, she knew it would be quite something to be loved by this man. He hadn’t seen her yet, and she advised herself to turn around and walk away. Her feet, however, chose to follow her heart, and she moved closer to him.

  “Hey.”

  He must have been lost in his thoughts, for he started at the sound of her voice. This was not the usual Hank, keyed in to everything around him.

  “Sam.”

  She took a few steps closer, and seeing he wasn’t averse to her company, joined hi
m at the window. The light from the moon bathed them in soft, luminescent hues. He continued to stare out the window, but an uneasy tension made him shift his stance.

  Where to start? “Thanks for coming to get us.”

  It didn’t help him. He nodded and shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Hank, I’m sorry for my part in this. I still don’t know what I did to upset you.”

  He stared out at the nighttime sage with a choked expression, making her certain this was not going to go well.

  “We’re both passionate people,” she said, her anxiety growing with each syllable she uttered. “I said some things out there in the field about you and Tasha. I was angry and confused because I didn’t know what I had done to make you so angry.”

  He was still listening, and she clung to hope. If only he would look at her. His eyes would tell her if the two of them were okay.

  She pushed on; it was now or never. He’d either accept what she said as truth or that would be the end of it. “Maybe I do have some secrets…”

  His head turned, and his eyes searched hers. She met his gaze. Everything in her being wanted to be open and there with him.

  “Maybe I do keep some things to myself because…” she took a deep breath, “they’re just too hard to share.” She felt her throat constrict, reminding her how weary and emotional she was from the strain of the grueling day.

  “Then answer me this,” he said, startling her with his voice.

  She nodded, willing to do anything at this point to communicate with him again.

  “Do you have a problem with drugs or alcohol?”

  Sam stared in disbelief.

  “No,” she said, stunned.

  He watched her, still silent.

  “I enjoy wine with meals,” she said, her voice unsure. “And the only medicines I take short of pain relievers from the store are things my doctor prescribes from time to time.” Technically, she reasoned, that would cover her chemotherapy drugs, too.