The Apprentice

by Jana Barkley

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “Only my son, Jason.”

  Mary Kate was incredulous. “So, you’ve been carrying this burden all alone without anyone to help you?”

  Sam nodded. Her emotions started to engage again, and tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Not even him?”

  Sam’s eyes clenched shut and the tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head.

  Mary Kate reached out and placed her hands on Sam’s knees. “You know he’s in love with you, don’t you?”

  A sob escaped her, and she nodded hard.

  “And you’re in love with him, too,” said Mary Kate, coming to her and wrapping her arms around her.

  Sam sobbed and shook in her friend’s arms for many minutes. When the torrent of tears started to pass, Mary Kate moved back to sit across from her again, holding her hands.

  “Listen to me, darlin’,” she said with quiet strength. “You’ve got to tell him.”

  “I’m afraid to.”

  “Why? What do you think he’ll do?”

  “You know how he is,” Sam said, taking a ragged breath. “He’ll feel I betrayed him by not telling him about this in the beginning.”

  “He might have a conniption, for sure. But that’s our Hank, now, isn’t it?” She smiled and leaned forward to meet Sam’s eyes.

  Sam took a steadying breath. “What if he pulls my permit and takes Chance away?”

  Realization dawned in her friend’s eyes. “I see. Well,” she said, sitting back, thoughtful, “that would be a heartbreaker and not the best therapy for your soul, either, I would guess.”

  Sam bit down on the tears coming too easily by then.

  “If it came down to that, Sam,” she said, “then I guess I’d take you on as my apprentice.”

  Sam smiled in gratitude, but this was not the solution either of them wanted. Downcast, she stared at the floor.

  “Let’s think about this,” continued her friend. “Knowing he’s head over heels for you, do you really think he’s going to throw you away and break your heart by taking the one thing that matters to you—besides him, of course—as punishment for hurting him?”

  The way Mary Kate put it made Sam’s fears seem unrealistic, and she turned to Mary Kate, yearning for hope.

  The little woman was resolute, convinced she was right. “He may stomp and holler a right fare-thee-well, but I’m bettin’ his feelings for you will win out in the end. But listen to me, girlfriend,” she said, leaning forward, “you’d better tell him sooner than later. If he finds out on his own, or even thinks you don’t trust him enough to tell him, it’s going to be harder.”

  Mary Kate was right, as usual.

  “What I don’t quite understand,” said Mary Kate, standing up to find another box of tissue since the one she’d been using was empty, “is why you didn’t tell one of us from the beginning.”

  “Well, it wasn’t like I came into this looking to be a falconer at first.”

  “No.” Mary Kate chuckled. “You didn’t find falconry; it found you. Thank you, Mr. Goshawk.”

  They both laughed.

  Sam added, “I didn’t want to be treated differently.” She raised an eyebrow, curious. “If you or any of the others had known I had cancer, would you have given me the time of day?”

  Mary Kate was introspective, then shrugged. “I probably would have. But himself? Who knows.”

  “But what’s done is done, Samantha darlin’,” she said with a big sigh. “You know I love you dearly?” She hugged Sam, and then stood back to examine her face.

  Sam nodded.

  “Then do me a couple of favors, will you?”

  Sam was ready to comply with anything.

  “First off, I want you to promise me if you start feeling weak or more sick than you should while you’re out in the field, you’ll only go out hunting with one of us present.”

  “All right,” she agreed. “What else?”

  “Now, that’s not a light promise, do you understand? I know you’re stubborn and strong-minded, as most lady hawkers are, so don’t be telling yourself someday it’s okay this one time, and it’ll pass. I don’t want to hear about a friend of mine found sick or worse out in some field and her hawk nowhere to be seen. Understand?”

  “Yes, Mary Kate, I got it.”

  “Good. Now this next is hard, but I think you’ll agree it’s the wise thing to do. I’d like you to fill out a Form 3-186A. Just sign it and fill in Chance’s information on it, but leave the rest blank. If you become disabled and can’t speak for yourself, we can fill in the rest and either put your boy on one of our permits or release him back to the wild.”

  “Of course,” said Sam. The federal government had to be notified within five days in the event of transferring a falconry bird to another falconer, releasing it to the wild, or its death. It was wise, and she’d rather trust Chance to one of her friends than have him confiscated by fish and wildlife officials who, although well meaning, wouldn’t know anything about Chance’s traits or preferences.

  “And promise me you’ll tell him. Soon.”

  Sam’s heart clenched hard at the thought of Hank. She agreed.

  “We’ll get through this—together, understand. You’re not alone, anymore.”

  Sam let Mary Kate hug her and put her to bed. It was a strange, dark silence she lay in for the remainder of the night. Mary Kate left for a while, and then returned to undress in the dark and get into bed. Sam lay silent and pretended to sleep. This was what it was like to have someone who loved you mixed up in the muddle of your life while you struggled with a disease. Sometimes the intimacy was too much, but the flip side was the compassion to be found in their arms.

  After Mary Kate’s breathing became regular, Sam’s consciousness reached out to the room two doors down, wondering what he was doing. Was he lying awake, too, finding it impossible to sleep? It would be so simple, so easy, to slip out of bed, walk to his door, and tap quietly. She had no doubt he’d hear her, know it was her, nor did she doubt the reception she would get. The memory of his arms around her and the feel of his body pressed close to hers made her yearn for his touch. Images of what it would have been like if she hadn’t stopped him, the feel of his skin on hers, and the ecstatic release of desire as he became one with her body were more than she could stand. She curled up tight under the covers, holding herself and wishing for the throbbing between her legs to fade away. This was not about sex; it was about completion. He had said what she was feeling, what she had hoped for in spite of everything. They fit. And she loved him.

  Sleep started to descend, and the last coherent thoughts moving through her exhaustion were willed to the man sleeping two doors down.

  Refuse: When a hawk will not chase the quarry she is supposed to fly after

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dull morning light seeped in through cracks between the window curtains. Sam’s roommate still slept, as evidenced by her occasional snore. It was almost eight a.m. and way past her usual wake-up time.

  The plan was to pack up and leave by noon, which was check out time. An appreciative glance at her friend made Sam sigh. Mary Kate had come through for her last night, unlike anyone Sam had called friend before. A cursory inventory of her belongings told her the packing would go fast. She’d let Mary Kate sleep undisturbed and come back to do it later.

  As she rose to wash and dress with the bathroom door shut, she found her throat was itchy and she had a short coughing spell. Probably caught a cold with all this running around in the snow, she thought. Standing under the hot, steamy shower made her feel better. But in spite of this, she could think of nothing but Hank. So, what now?

  She would tell him everything. She grappled with how and when to do so, feeling her way along possible scenarios. How he felt about her—he had said he loved her last night—was impossible to doubt. And she could not ignore what he meant to her. Staring at her face in the mirror, she understood what she had to do.

/>   Telling him here with so many people around who knew him, and knowing the results might be explosive, was not the best thing for him. She would wait for a time when they were alone together, and it would be during the coming week. Any time after that would be selfish. And no matter how much her body craved his touch, she would not allow them to share the kind of intimacy they’d almost shared the night before, nor would she say the words, “I love you,” until she was clear and free of this lie and Hank still stood toe to toe with her. If he would.

  Sam stepped out of her room and was met with grey skies, yesterday’s sunshine lost behind clouds from a storm approaching the Sierras. She’d be through the pass long before it hit. She started toward the restaurant to get some breakfast, although she didn’t know how much her nervous stomach would allow her to eat. A glance down the corridor at Room 16 showed her Hank had backed his black SUV up to the room. He’d been up for a while. Her pulse quickened.

  Uneasy steps brought her into the lobby and up to the entrance of the restaurant. John and Karen were waiting to be seated and hailed her.

  “Want some company?” Karen asked.

  “I saw Hank around earlier,” said John. “If we see him, we’ll ask him, too.”

  Sam’s heart continued to dance its frantic rhythm.

  “There he is,” John said, waving him over.

  Sam turned and saw he had been talking with Mike and was coming to join them. His eyes caught hers, searching, and yes, hoping.

  A flush colored her face, and she had to turn away to gain some control. As he stepped up to them and they all said good morning, she noticed him steal a glance at her and quickly turn his head.

  Had he changed his mind about her? She imagined him alone and angry in his room all night, hurt by her rejection, although reason told her this was silly. That’s how Mark, her ex-husband, would have reacted and he would have retaliated with similar rejections until he’d punished her. But Hank was nothing like the man she’d spent most of her adult life with. Sam raised a shaky hand to her forehead, willing her heart to stop racing.

  A tentative touch on her shoulder and an arm encircling her was like electricity. It was a casual gesture any of them could have made, but after last night she knew better. His questioning touch told her he was worried too. Sam leaned into him and wrapped a shy arm around his waist as they stood there. The hand on her shoulder squeezed, and she felt the warmth of his body meld with hers.

  He sat next to her during breakfast, and as they ate, Sam wondered at his calm. He seemed the same, unchanging Hank who responded when addressed but otherwise kept his thoughts to himself. Their friends had no reason to believe anything was different. Part of her was thankful for this, but part of her was terrified something still was not right.

  John finished and left to go load their truck, and Karen excused herself to talk to friends at another table. At last they were alone.

  Hank was done eating and reached for his bill, but instead of getting up, he continued to sit there.

  “Did you get any sleep?” she asked.

  “Did you?” He had a hint of a smile she’d come to love, and his hand took hers in her lap and squeezed it.

  “So, what’s it going to be? Business as usual?” he asked, frowning. “You head home and we pretend nothing happened?” He stared hard into the tabletop.

  “Is that what you want?” Her voice choked.

  His eyes told her it wasn’t.

  Hank reached for his bill and grabbed hers, as well. Rising from the booth, he offered her his hand and she latched on. He paid for both of them and then led her out of the lobby into the crisp winter air. As they walked back toward their rooms, he refused to let go of her hand. It made her smile, and he caught her. Still so sensitive to everything he did, she blushed and found a strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her close.

  Sam’s room door was open as they walked up, and she saw Mary Kate packing like a banshee. She waved to them then hustled past with a suit case. .

  Hank reached down to relieve her of a suitcase.

  “Are you all packed up?” he asked Sam.

  “Not yet.”

  “Come get me when you are and I’ll help you load up.”

  The hunger in his eyes almost persuaded her to follow him, but she turned instead and got to work. Thirty minutes later, her suitcases and hawking gear were ready to go, and Chance had been put away in his giant hood.

  She stepped outside, wondering how she was going to find Hank, but there he was sitting in the open back end of his rig. He saw her and jumped up to get her gear and carry it out to her vehicle. With his help, her SUV was packed in short order.

  Without something to do, the two of them were stuck in an awkward silence while they stood in the parking lot, neither one sure what to say or do. Large trucks rumbled by on the highway behind them, and other falconers called out goodbyes as they pulled out of the parking lot for home. The mundane, everyday world hemmed them in, making her feel shy, when all she wanted to do was throw her arms around him. But this reserved, uncertain Hank was putting her off. She couldn’t blame him after last night. Doubt played with her insides, too.

  He stood there, silent, and then something seemed to give. “Can I show you something?”

  Relieved and curious, she agreed.

  He turned and led her past Mary Kate, who was singing some Irish ditty while crawling around inside her van, and opened his room up, disappearing inside.

  Feeling shy, Sam stopped at the doorway, but she wasn’t there long. A hand reached out and yanked her inside and pushed the door closed behind her.

  Strong arms engulfed her once again, making her heart sing for the pure pleasure of it. He kissed her, pushed her up against the wall, and she wrapped her arms around him as if her life depended on it. When he freed her mouth to bury his face in her hair, she laughed.

  “So, is this what you had to show me?”

  He laughed, too. “Yes, ma’am. Just so there’s no doubt how I feel about you.”

  “Oh, Hank.”

  He pulled back and his eyes were a gentle caress as he took in her face.

  “I know how easily you second-guess yourself,” he whispered, leaning back in to let his lips brush against her temple.

  “And you didn’t second guess—after last night?”

  He nodded slightly, a grudging yes.

  The world seemed a lot clearer this morning, and she steadied herself to take hold of the situation.

  “When can I see you?” he asked, his eyes locked on the floor with uncertainty.

  Sam smiled and reached up to touch his face, pulling his hungry gaze back to hers.

  “I have some appointments tomorrow,” she said, knowing her chemo session would make her unfit for any human contact, let alone a romantic liaison.

  “What about Tuesday?” she asked with a bright smile and watched the light return to his troubled eyes.

  Suddenly, he scowled. “Damn. I have to deliver and install these custom cabinets for a client in the central valley.” He gazed down into her face with frustration. “It’s an overnighter. I won’t be back until Thursday.”

  “Then Thursday?” she asked, brushing his face with her fingertips and thrilling at his reaction to her touch.

  “Thursday.” He said and claimed her mouth in a kiss that left her shaky.

  And she promised herself Thursday he’d know the whole truth of her.

  He stayed by her driver’s side window as she slowly pulled forward to drive out of the parking lot. With her window still down, he reached in and pulled her face toward him and kissed her gently. Then he stood back and waved as he watched her drive away. His words, “Be safe, sweetheart,” echoed in her heart long after the sound had died in her ears.

  Gamehawk: an accomplished, well-trained falconry bird who has successfully taken quarry

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  A covey of valley quail burst out from under the thick bramble hedge skirting the creek in Sam’s favorite hunting
field. Chance moved through the tops of the cottonwood trees ahead of her as she had taught him to do, snaking his head back and forth whenever he thought he saw something worth chasing. The small quail flew in unified formation up and over the creek and disappeared into a grove of scrub oaks on the other side of the ravine.

  Chance watched them with fervor but let them go, although his instincts made him flinch at the frenzy of their maddened flight. He was after jack now that he’d had a good taste of it. Sam smiled wide at the realization. She worked one side of the creek bank, kicking bushes, clapping her hands, hoping for the sitter that would try to run away at the worst time, with a hungry red-tailed hawk perched above it.

  In spite of her promise to Mary Kate not to go hawking alone when she wasn’t feeling well, the cold February morning found Sam out by herself with the rising sun. She had loaded Chance into her SUV, wondering if this could be the last time she flew him.

  The sun shone in a pale-blue sky, setting the day apart from its more somber cousins, whose clouds and heavy grey had the power to nuance everything, including one’s mood.

  Home to pheasant, quail, and, of course, jackrabbit, the first pasture was bordered by a long creek. It was the perfect setup for flushing, for if the quarry got away it would flush into the next pasture. If they didn’t catch anything on one pass of the creek, all Sam had to do was walk to the next field with Chance on the glove.

  They had been in the field about twenty minutes, and so far no rabbit flushes. Knowing Chance would get impatient, she pushed forward faster, hoping to see a rustle in the high grass and a pair of long ears break from cover. Chance caught her attention as he flew with great animation to the next tree. His body language told her there was something of interest in the grass.

  Head bobbing back and forth, he jumped to another tree with a lower branch. Sam grinned and plunged forward into the thicket. Out the other end flushed a large jack, which bounced up and over the creek bed and high-tailed it to the tall grass in the adjoining pasture. Sam knew from experience it would not stop until it made it to the tree line at the far end of the field.