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Authors: Kat Attalla

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BOOK: Hawk's Haven
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"Why?"

"Just so I could be contrary.” She whirled back around and the full skirt of her dress flowed in a billowing cloud around her legs. The soft cotton fabric clung to the curves of her body.

As graceful as a fawn, she raced Shadow back to the house. His eyes remained riveted to the sexy sway of her hips. He let out a low whistle of admiration. She sure knew how to make an exit. He waited until she entered the front door before retrieving his shirt from the hood of his car.

Just so I could be contrary.

He got the feeling that she’d stated the ground rules for the basis of any relationship they might have. Was she fighting him or herself? He wondered why it mattered, but the answer was as clear as the mountain water.

Under normal circumstances she wouldn't be spending the evening with him. He wanted
it
to be something more than a way to pass a few boring weeks before she returned to her old life, and he didn't have a prayer in that respect.

 

* * * *

 

If punctuality were an art form, Hawk would be a Michelangelo. At precisely seven-thirty he arrived on the door step. His sharp knock reminded her that she’d picked through her very limited wardrobe three times and still hadn't chosen anything.

"Come in," she called out. Hawk entered. She gestured an apology for her appearance. "I just have to change."

"Why? What you have on is fine.”

She glanced down at her tattered old jeans and college sweatshirt, clothing only fit to be worn for house cleaning. His designer jeans and monogrammed pullover by comparison made her feel like a refugee. Perhaps she was a refugee but a daring escape from Butler Square would not likely gain her world sympathy. "It will only take a second to change into a dress..."

"...that will leave your arms and legs exposed to ticks, flees, mosquitoes and other insects," he finished for her. "Have you got something for your head?"

"Besides my crown?” He frowned and she tossed her hands up. "Joke. It was a joke. If you're not embarrassed to be seen with me looking like this...” She shrugged and leaned against the sofa to put on her sneakers.

"Why would I be embarrassed? I look like..."

"You stepped out of an ad in Gentleman's Quarterly and you know it so don't give me that, never-gave-my-clothes-a-thought routine.” She tied her last lace.

Hawk expelled a heavy breath of frustration. He went to his car to retrieve the picnic hamper. She met him at the back door and they walked up into the mountain she’d admired each evening but had been too afraid to explore on her own.

On the balmy evening quite a few of the neighbors were also taking a stroll. Gillian stopped to admire a Dogwood tree in full bloom. Hawk waited, tight-lipped as she deliberately took her time studying the white petals.

"Thomas, my man," a deep voice called out.

She raised her head to view the tall man walking toward them. His wide grin reminded her of someone.

"Ike. What's happening?” Hawk greeted his friend with a broad smile.

Ike glanced at her and let out a sigh. "I should have known those hawk eyes of yours would find the prettiest girl before the rest of us had a chance."

"Gillian Hughes, the happily married, Ike Stone," Hawk said.

"Ah, the teacher," Ike said. "My mother raves about you all the time. If they had teachers like you when I was in school I might not have cut class so often."

"Thank you, I think," Gillian said. Ike's long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he wore an intricately beaded pendant around his neck.  Apparently Hawk's friend was more comfortable with his heritage. Being Martha's son, he probably wasn't given a choice.

"Are you heading up to the top?" Ike asked, sending a conspiratorial wink in Hawk's direction.

"Maybe," Hawk answered.

Their schoolboy grins made her wonder if she was being taken to the Iroquois equivalent of Lookout Point. Although no boy had ever had the nerve to take the judge's daughter to that infamous place, she'd heard stories from her friends in high school.

"Just watch out for old Tokonda," Ike warned with a glint in his eye. "They say his spirit gets restless during a full moon."

An annoyed scowl darkened Hawk's face. "Can it, Ike."

"You can't deny history, Thomas."

Hawk hooked his arm through Gillian's and led her away before she could question Ike further.

"What did he mean by that?" she asked.

"Nothing. It's just a superstition. A silly old story.”  As he continued walking in silence, her curiosity grew.

She gazed up at him. "If it's just a silly story, why won't you tell me?"

He pulled her out of the way of a fallen branch she hadn't seen. His stubborn refusal to share any part of his heritage made her determined to wrangle the story out of him. They continued climbing the wooded slope until they came to a clearing. Hawk opened the picnic hamper and removed a plastic cloth for the ground. He set out an array of sandwiches and containers for their evening feast.

"Have a seat," he said, tapping the ground next to him.

Gillian folded her arms across her chest. "Not until you promise to tell me the story of Tokonda."

"Maybe if you're nice to me..."

"How nice?" she asked warily.

He looked pleased. "How nice can you be?” His low, sexy moan both excited and annoyed her. 

She flopped down on the ground and reached for a paper plate. "Forget it. I'll ask Martha tomorrow."

"All right, I'll tell you.” She smiled smugly and he added, “After you've eaten. I wouldn't what to upset your dinner."

"I don't get upset easily."

"Ah, but you've never heard the legend of Tokonda."

 

 

 

Chapter
Six

 

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

Gillian smacked Hawk in the forearm, but she hurt herself more than him. "Be serious," she said, shaking the stinging sensation from her hand.

"I'm no storyteller."

She pursed her lips together and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "I'll bet you've spun your share of tales to women in the past, Thomas Carter."

"But my grey cells work much better if you're sitting a little closer.” Hawk stretched out in the soft rye grass.  She hesitated when he pointed to the area next to him.  He locked his fingers together behind his head and stared into the clear evening sky. "I think my memory is slipping."

Gillian let out a puff of air. He wasn't going to tell her the story until he got his way.  She lay down on her stomach next to him and propped her head up with her folded arms. "So, out with it Counselor before I haul you into court for breach of promise."

"You really want to hear about some old warrior chief who lived a thousand moons ago?"

"Yes."

"Well, I guess to understand Tokonda, you would have to know about the great eagle first. Larger than any bird ever seen before, the eagle first appeared when Tokonda joined the Bear Clan warriors. The legend says that Tokonda could see the Great Turtle Nation through the eyes of that eagle."

"Turtle Nation?" she repeated.

"That's America to you foreigners."

The way Hawk referred to her as a foreigner brought a smile to her face. Aaron took pride in the fact that he was a Mayflower
descendant
and therefore one of the first Americans. "Continue."

"Before battle Tokonda would come up here to become one with the world. Some think he came to talk with the eagle but most believe he was that eagle because they were never seen at the same time.” He turned on his side to face her. "I told you this was silly."

The man was a cynic without a romantic bone in his body. "It's not silly. And you never know. So what happened to him?"

As if trying to torment her, he grinned at her anxious probing. "What makes you think anything happened?"

"Spirits don't roam restlessly unless they met with an untimely end."

"Don't tell me you believe in that stuff," he muttered.

"No one's ever proved they don't exist. I don't want to debate the merits of ghostly spirits. Just finish the story before it gets too dark to find our way back."

"I could get back in the pitch black.” She glared at his attempt to change the subject again. "Okay, okay. Although the Bear Clan claimed that Tokonda met his end from a rival chief to save face, everyone knew it was Running Deer."

"You expect me to believe he was run down by a deer?" she asked, annoyance raising her voice.

"No. Running Deer was the daughter of the tribal Medicine Man. Tokonda had spurned her in favor of her younger sister."

 

* * * *

 

 

Gillian's face flushed with anticipation. He felt a twinge and convinced himself that it wasn't guilt. After all, she wanted to hear the tale. It wasn't his fault that the mighty legend of Tokonda dated back fifteen years at the most, when he and Ike had made it up to play a joke on the local girls.

"Do I have to pull this tale from you one word at a time?" she huffed impatiently. "I hope you manage better with your closing arguments in court."

"Anyway, Running Deer mixed a powerful combination of herbs and slipped it into the dinner her sister had prepared Tokonda for their wedding meal."

"And," she said.

Hawk slipped his arm across her waist and pulled her closer. She curled up against his side absently.

"That night, Tokonda came up here to meditate. According to legend, the great eagle was having difficulty flying and came closer to the land than it had ever been spotted before. Too low to avoid the arrows of the enemy.  The following morning they found Tokonda on the mountain top with an arrow piercing his heart. Without their warrior chief to protect them, a rival clan invaded and wiped out the village."

She winced and cuddled closer. "That's so sad."

"And now, some, like Ike, believe that his spirit roams the mountain seeking vengeance for Running Deer's betrayal. Over the years many have heard his piercing cry, but to the few who have seen his spirit, tragedy has always followed."

"What kind of tragedy?"

Hawk let out a laugh. "It's a story. When a person faces tragedy, it's easier to blame the spirits than to accept death as a part of life. It was nothing more than a series of coincidences."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with rationalizing pain to get through it. Anyway...” She leaned closer and kissed his cheek. He shook his head, surprised. "That was for telling me the story."

"Oh, yeah?” He flipped her onto her back and propped himself above her with his elbows. She giggled and her warm breath caressed his neck. "I have a whole lot of stories. I could tell you about Skywoman."

"I already know that one.” She wiggled beneath him in an attempt to free herself. Her body's soft, rounded curves brushed against him, threatening the fine thread of control he was barely maintaining. Although she seemed to be mildly amused, he sensed an undercurrent of anxiety.

"The three sisters?"

"Corn, squash and beans.” She put her hands on his shoulders, halting his effort to pin her down.

He raised his eyebrows hopefully. "The Peacemaker?"

"I'm reading that one now.” She tilted her head back and gazed into the darkening sky. "I think we should head back soon, Hawk. It's getting late."

Her voice quavered slightly, but he figured it had more to do with his closeness than a fear of darkness. Would she worry about the time if she was with one of her rich society friends, he wondered.

"Let me up, please."

 

 

 

* * * *

 

Hawk's expression froze into a mask of tightly controlled anger.

  Gillian hadn't meant to lead him on. Or perhaps she had, but she hadn't expected such an explosive reaction to his masculine sexuality. He was nothing like the pampered society snobs she’d grown up with. For all his outward polish, he represented a primal danger that was frightening--and irresistible. "Please."

He rolled off her as if she’d suddenly contracted a contagious disease. So much for a happy ending to a pleasant evening. He gathered the remains of their picnic and stuffed them in the hamper. When he finished he gestured for her to walk.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

"No. I did. I forgot my place," he grumbled and started to walk away.

The last of the sun dipped below the horizon. Although she could see the lights in the valley, the mountain top was lit only by the full moon. She’d never cared for darkness, especially when she was in unfamiliar and unsheltered surroundings. As she started to follow, she stumbled on a rock and instinctively grabbed Hawk's sleeve to keep from falling. His arm went around her waist. As soon as she caught her balance he let go.

"Just because I don't happen to think your place is on top of me after one evening together doesn't mean you have to throw a hissy fit," Gillian said.

BOOK: Hawk's Haven
10.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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