Reckless Desire (7 page)

The tension drained out of Hawk’s body.

Jenny Lee licked her lips. How was she going to tell Hawk the rest? She had always liked Hawk. He was a nice-looking young man. Before he married Vickie, she had daydreamed that he might some day call on her, but that was all in the past now. “Hawk?”

His eyes sought hers, the breath trapped in his lungs as he waited for her to speak.

“She lost the baby,” Jenny Lee said sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

Hawk nodded slowly, a great sadness welling within him. He had regretted getting Vickie pregnant again so soon, but he had wanted the child. Their child. Vickie had been hoping for a girl…

“Hawk, is there anything I can do?”

“My father. Tell him what happened.”

“I will. Anything else?”

“Vickie’s mother is staying with my sons. Ask her if she can stay until Victoria gets better.”

“I will. Hawk, try not to worry. I’ll stay with Vickie and the twins if her mother can’t.”

Hawk nodded. “You are a good friend.”

“I’ve got to go now.”

Hawk nodded again. “Thank you for coming,” he murmured.

Hawk stood in the middle of the cell for a long time after Jenny Lee had gone, staring into space. His child was dead before it had lived. Grief welled in his heart and he threw back his head and loosed a long, bitter cry.

And then he lifted his arms above his head and began to pray.

Chapter Six

I could not believe my ears as Jenny Lee McCall poured out her story in a flood of words and tears. There had been a fight. Hawk had killed a man. Victoria had miscarried. Hawk was in jail.

I glanced at Shadow, too stunned to speak.

Shadow did not waste time asking questions. He thanked Jenny Lee for coming, escorted her to the door, and reached for his buckskin jacket.

“Let us go,” he said. Handing me my bonnet, he took me by the arm and propelled me out of the house.

Moments later we were headed for town.

Sheriff Bill Lancaster was reluctant to let us see Hawk, but one look at Shadow’s face stifled the lawman’s objections and he let us into the cellblock after first making sure that Shadow was not concealing a weapon.

Hawk’s face lit up when he first saw us, and then his expression turned to one of shame.

“Are you all right?” I asked anxiously. His face was swollen, his mouth cut, his nose bloody. I made a mental note to insist that he be allowed to clean up.

“I am all right,” Hawk answered.

“What happened?” Shadow asked.

Hawk let out a long breath and then told his story, how the stranger had accosted Vickie and put his hands on her, refusing to let her go. A fight had ensued, the man had reached for his gun, and Hawk had stabbed him.

I went cold all over as Hawk finished his story. We had many friends in Bear Valley. The Indian wars had been over for years. And yet I knew there were many people who would believe that Hawk was guilty of killing the man in cold blood simply because he was part Indian.

“I killed him in self-defense,” Hawk said, his eyes pleading with us to believe him. “But the sheriff does not believe me. He said he saw the whole fight and that I killed the stranger in cold blood.”

“I believe you,” Shadow said. “Do not worry.”

“Have you seen Vickie?” Hawk asked anxiously. “Is she all right?”

“We haven’t seen her yet,” I replied. “We wanted to see you first. Don’t worry about Victoria. We’ll take her home and care for her if Lydia doesn’t feel she can handle it.”

Hawk nodded, and then he looked at Shadow. “I am going crazy in here,
neyho
,” he said, quiet desperation in his voice.

Shadow nodded, his dark eyes filling with compassion and understanding.

Hawk gripped the bars in both hands, his knuckles going white. “I would rather be dead than have to stay in prison.”

Shadow nodded again. “Do not worry,
naha
. I will not let that happen.”

Hope flared in Hawk’s eyes, and then he let out a long sigh. “Tell Vickie I am sorry for what happened. Tell her I love her.”

“I will tell her,” Shadow said. “We will stop by again before we go home.”

Outside, we walked hand in hand toward the doctor’s office. I glanced at Shadow, started to speak, and then changed my mind.

“What is it, Hannah?” Shadow asked.

“You told Hawk not to worry, that you wouldn’t let him stay in jail.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t mean to try and break him out, do you?”

Shadow did not answer for a long moment, and then he said, “Our people die if they are confined in prison for a long time. We were not meant to live inside four walls, but to live wild and free. It is better for a warrior to be dead than in prison. I will not let Hawk die a little bit each day.”

“Shadow…”

“I have been in prison, Hannah,” he said, his voice bitter with the memory. “I will not let that happen to Hawk. We will wait and see what kind of justice the white man has for an Indian.”

“And if a jury finds Hawk guilty?”

“Then I will do what must be done.”

I didn’t argue. I knew that Shadow would do what he had to do, and nothing I could say would stop him. Jenny Lee had said there were many people on the street who had seen the fight between Hawk and the stranger. Surely someone had seen Lyman Carter reach for his gun. Surely that someone would come forward at the trial, if not before.

Dr. Henderson smiled as he ushered us down a whitewashed hallway to a small green room. Victoria was in bed, her face pale. There were dark smudges under her eyes.

“Don’t stay too long,” the doctor cautioned. “She needs her rest.”

“Will she be all right?” I asked.

Dr. Henderson nodded confidently. “To be sure, to be sure. She’s young and healthy. A few days of complete bed rest and she’ll be back on her feet.”

I nodded, and the doctor left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Vickie?”

Her eyelids fluttered open and I could see she had been crying.

“How are you feeling, Victoria?” I asked.

“Empty,” she said. “How’s Hawk? Have you seen him?”

“Yes. He’s fine. He sends his love.”

“I lost the baby,” she said, and two large tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Hannah, it was awful! I’ve never seen Hawk so angry, and then he killed that man and there was blood everywhere.”

She was sobbing now, reliving the horror of the moment. I started toward her, but Shadow reached her side first. Bending, he took Vickie in his arms and held her while she cried.

“Do not think about it,” Shadow said, his voice soft and soothing. “It is over now. Everything will be all right.”

“How can it be?” Victoria cried, her blue eyes frantic with worry. “Jenny Lee said they’re going to hang Hawk for killing that awful man. What am I going to do?”

“Nothing,” Shadow said. “You are going to stay in bed for as long as the doctor says. Then you are going home to take care of your sons. They will not hang Hawk.”

Victoria blinked back her tears, her eyes intent on Shadow’s face.

“They will not hang him,” Shadow said again. “You must trust me and do as I say.”

Victoria nodded. She had always admired and respected Shadow, and if he said everything would be all right, then everything would be all right.

Slowly, Shadow lowered her back onto the bed. “Sleep now. We will be back to see you tomorrow.”

Like an obedient child, Victoria closed her eyes. Shadow took my hand and we left the room.

“Shadow, I’m afraid.”

“Have I ever failed you before?”

“No.”

“I will not fail you now. Do not worry, Hannah.”

I nodded. I, too, admired and respected Shadow. He always knew what to do and how to do it.

We stopped at the jail to tell Hawk that Vickie was doing fine and that the doctor said there was nothing to be concerned about.

“Do not do anything foolish,” Shadow warned Hawk as we prepared to leave. “I will take care of everything.”

Hawk grinned wryly. “Do you read my mind,
neyho
?”

“No. But I remember the thoughts that went through my mind when I was in the stockade at Fort Apache. I remember thinking that I would do anything to get out. I see that same desperation in your eyes now. And I tell you again, do not do anything foolish.”

“I understand,
neyho
.”

“Good. I will send Blackie over to your place to look after your stock until you are home again.”

“Tell him to keep an eye on the wall-eyed mare. She is due to foal soon, and she usually needs help.”

Shadow nodded. “We will see you again tomorrow.”

“Can I bring you anything?” I asked.

“A change of clothing,” Hawk said, glancing at his blood-stained shirt. “And one of your apple pies.”

“You’ll have them,” I promised.

It was hard, leaving my son in jail. I knew how he must hate being locked up, how desperately he needed to see Victoria, to know for himself that she was going to be all right. I prayed that he would listen to Shadow and not do anything foolish. To try to escape would only make him look guilty.

When we got home, Shadow sent Blackie over to stay at Hawk’s place. Blackie was ecstatic at the thought of helping the mares foal, though he was less enthusiastic about staying in the house with Lydia.

Our place seemed very empty with Blackie gone, and I thought how sad it was that my children had to grow up and leave home. When they were young, I had thought they would always be there. Now Hawk and Mary had homes of their own, and soon Blackie would be grown and gone as well.

I glanced at Shadow. He was sitting on the edge of the hearth mending a bridle. The lamplight cast his profile in bronze, and I marveled at how handsome he was, this man who was my whole life.

A little fear began to niggle at the back of my mind as I thought about Shadow’s promise to Hawk. I knew that Shadow would not let them hang our son, nor would he let Hawk languish in prison. Closing my eyes, I sent an urgent prayer to God and Maheo, begging them for help. Our lives would be turned upside down if Shadow were forced to break Hawk out of jail. My husband and my son would be fugitives, and our lives in Bear Valley would be over. What would I do then? Where would we go?

I remembered how it had been when Shadow and I were being hunted by the soldiers after Little Big Horn, how awful it had been to be constantly running and hiding, always afraid, always tired and hungry. I did not want to live like that again, and even as I thought about it, I knew it was impossible. I could not drag Blackie across the countryside, running and hiding. I could not endanger my youngest son’s life. And what of Victoria? She was too fragile to endure such a life. Not only that, she had two young sons to consider.

I had been mending one of Shadow’s shirts, and now I laid it aside and went to kneel beside him.

“Oh, Shadow,” I murmured.

“I know,” he said quietly. Laying the bridle on the floor, he stroked my hair. I loved the touch of his hand, and I closed my eyes as I rested my head in his lap. We sat there for a long time, content to be quietly close, both wondering what the outcome of the trial would be and how it would affect our lives in Bear Valley.

“Long life and happiness,” Shadow said after a while. “That was what the hawks promised. Remember?”

“I remember.”

“Tomorrow I am going into the hills. I will be gone most of the day.”

“What about Hawk?”

“Tell him I will see him sometime tomorrow.”

Chapter Seven

He rose just before dawn. Slipping out of bed, he pulled on an old pair of buckskin trousers and a pair of moccasins and padded noiselessly out of the bedroom, through the dark house, and out the front door. At the corral, he threw a bridle over Smoke’s head, swung aboard the stallion’s bare back, and headed for the hills.

As he rode eastward, the sun climbed above the horizon, splashing the sky with an ever-changing palette of colors, gray to lavender, pink to rose, each color growing brighter until the whole sky seemed to be on fire with the birth of a new day.

Shadow rode at an easy, ground-covering lope, enjoying the feel of the wind in his face, the movement of the horse beneath him, the fragrance of earth and grass that filled his nostrils.

Reaching the hills some time later, Shadow urged the stallion up the steep slope until he came to a place where the ground leveled out. Reining Smoke to a halt, he dismounted.

For a long moment he stood staring into the distance, remembering days long past. Gazing down the corridors of time, he saw Hannah as she had been as a young girl. She was there at Rabbit’s Head Rock that sunny day they had first met, a skinny little girl with flaming red hair and expressive gray eyes, a handful of wildflowers clutched in her hands. He saw himself as a young boy, lonely for a mother’s love and attention. It had been Hannah’s mother, as much as Hannah herself, who had drawn him to the Kincaid house time and again. There was a feeling of love there, a sense of warmth and belonging, and he had soaked it up. It had been Hannah’s mother, Mary, who had taught him to read and write the white man’s language. She had been a wise woman, knowing that, while it was all right to teach him some things, it was best not to try to make a white man out of him.

Turning his gaze to the east, Shadow thought of his father, Black Owl, and of the other men in the tribe who had taught him the ways of a warrior. He thought of Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull and all the other great chiefs he had known: Gall, American Horse, Hump, Red Cloud. He thought of his best friend, Calf Running, who had been gunned down by a soldier; of Clyde Stewart and Barney McCall and the endless days he had spent as a sideshow attraction in a traveling tent show. And then he thought of his children, of helping Hannah bring Mary and Blackie into the world, of the Sun Dance he had shared with Hawk.

He recalled the battles he had been in, the men he had killed, and then he thought again of Hannah, always Hannah. She was his strength, woven tightly into the fabric of his life.

Abruptly he raised his arms toward heaven. “Hear me, Man Above,” he prayed in a loud voice. “Give me strength and wisdom that I might be worthy of my woman, that I might find a way to help my son.”