Hawks Mountain - Mobi (17 page)

Her laughter enveloped him. If only he could grab it and stick it in his pocket so he could pull it out when his dark thoughts beleaguered him.

“I’ve told you why every time you brought another bundle of shingles up the ladder.
Lydia
needs a place that will pass muster with social services. Now, haul yourself up here, Hart. We’re almost done.” She held out her hand.

He took it. Not because he needed her help, but because it was an excuse to touch her. Using more of his own strength than hers, he boosted himself onto the roof and sat beside her. Anchoring the bundle of shingles so they wouldn’t side off the roof, he leaned back on his elbows and continued to consider Becky.

“When you get me involved, woman, you get me in right up to my armpits. The amazing thing to me is that I let you.”

“Are you regretting that you volunteered?”

“Volunteered?” He laughed. “You would have done well in the military. You have the same system for finding volunteers.” Then he grew serious and studied her for a long time. Finally, he asked, “Becky, you’ve told me why
we’re
doing this. Want to tell me why
you’re
doing it?”

Becky pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them and stared off into the trees. She hadn’t told anyone about what had happened in
Atlanta
, not even Granny. Just the thought of it stung painfully. Could she tell Nick? Would he understand or would he see her as the failure she’d been back then?

“Why do you think I have a personal reason for doing this?” she asked, hedging an answer.

“Gut feeling.”

“Well, maybe your gut’s wrong.”

He tilted his head to see her face. “Maybe it’s not.” His hand covered hers. “Trust me, Becky.”

She glanced away and then back at him. His eyes overflowed with gentleness, understanding
and .
 . . Could it be that Granny had been right? That Nick had fallen—

Don’t even go there.

She blinked, and whatever she’d seen in his eyes had disappeared, if it ever had been there to begin with. More than likely, her imagination had conjured up something that she wanted desperately to see in their dark depths, but that wasn’t really there.

She pulled her gaze away.

Whatever she’d thought she’d seen in his eyes she could think about later. Right now, she needed to trust the understanding that she’d seen there. She’d carried the weight of this on her conscience far too long and the burden had become unbearable. The time had come to share some of the load with someone else, and who better than Nick? With that decision, the words began pouring from her of their own volition.

“When I was working at social services in
Atlanta
, there was a little ten-year-old boy named Timmy and his mother, Maria, on my client list. Timmy’s father had left his mother when the boy was three and at the time, had no visible income, so the support payments decided on by the court were minimal and paid sporadically.”

“A deadbeat dad.”

Becky nodded. “To make ends meet, Timmy’s mother took a job as a waitress in a local fast food joint. It paid minimum wage, but somehow she managed to feed them and keep a roof over their heads. They lived in a really rundown area of the city and had very little, but anyone with eyes in their head could see how very much Maria loved that boy and how much he loved her.”

Becky swallowed the lump forming in her throat and pushed on.

“Timmy’s father fared much better. He’d found a good job selling real estate and a new wife, who wanted a child, but couldn’t have one of her own. So, to please his new wife, Timmy’s father sued Maria for full custody of the boy.”

Nick made a sound of disgust.
“Terrific reason for wanting to rip a kid away from his mother.”

The rough shingles had begun to dig into Becky’s posterior. She shifted herself to get more comfortable. “The court appointed a
guardian ad litem,
but she did very little to advocate for the boy. The
DCS
looked into her case files and found she had represented the fathers more than the children, and they fired her shortly after everything with Timmy and Maria went down. Seems her brother lost custody of his son to his wife and that had an undue influence on the way the
ad litem
did her job. She felt Timmy should be with his father and as a result, did as little as possible to present Timmy’s desire to be with his mom to the court.”

Becky’s blood still ran cold when she recalled the woman telling her three days before the final custody hearing that “Little boys belong with their fathers, and I intend to do everything I can to see that happens in this case.”

She shook away the memory and continued. “When I learned that she was not representing Timmy as she should, I went to the judge and pleaded with him to appoint a new
ad litem
and to leave Timmy with his mother. He refused. I even told him if he did, I’d do all I could to find Maria a better paying job and get her out of that neighborhood. But, it didn’t help. In the end, her ex—” Her voice broke, but, when she felt Nick’s hand rubbing her back, the gesture gave her the strength to go on. “He won. Maria was devastated and
later .
 . . ” Again her voice broke. The guilt
came
pouring back as painful and all-encompassing as it had on the day she’d been told of Maria’s death. Right at this moment, the tragedy seemed as real as it had back then. “If I’d only—”

Nick pulled her against his chest and cradled her there while she sobbed. “You did what you could. You can’t blame yourself for what a judge decided or what the
ad litem
did or didn’t do. Sometimes, no matter how much we wish otherwise, we have to accept that things are beyond our control.”

“I keep telling myself that,
but .
 . . ” Becky sniffed. “I keep wondering where I messed up. Had I overlooked something more that I could have done?” She raised her head and looked at Nick through
a sheen
of unshed tears. She blinked and the hot tears streamed freely down her cheeks. “God, Nick, if you’d heard that little boy screaming for his mother the day they took him from her.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. “Nick, I can’t let that happen again. Not to Davy and
Lydia
.”

“I know, love. I know.” He gathered her in his arms, pressed her head against his shoulder and kissed her forehead. “But it won’t happen this time. Not on our watch it won’t. I won’t let it.” He set her away from him and gripped her shoulders. “You hear me?”

Words would not pass the knot in her throat, so she nodded.

With the pad of his thumb, he wiped away her tears. “Old George will have to get past the formidable team of Hawks and Hart to get to Davy.” He stood and held out his hand. “Now, let’s get this roof on.”

Becky took his hand and pulled herself to her feet. Then she did something so unexpected, it shocked even her. She threw her arms around Nick’s neck and hugged him as tight as she could. Both of them teetered and if Nick hadn’t made a grab for the chimney, they’d have taken a header off the roof.

He drew back, placed a butterfly kiss on her lips, and then smiled. “As much as I’d love to continue this, and make no mistake that we will continue it at a later time, we have a roof to put on, a ceiling to repair and a house to paint.” He let go of her and grabbed the bundle of shingles.

Becky stared at him open-mouthed. Joy unlike anything she’d experienced in a very long time bubbled through her. She wasn’t sure what thrilled her more, that he had pledged to keep Davy with his mom or that he’d called her love or that he planned to continue hugging and kissing her.

Later that day,
as Nick took a break and leaned against the chimney admiring the way Becky deftly nailed down shingles, just as he’d instructed, he wondered if she’d told him the entire story. He didn’t think so. He’d replayed her story a couple of times in his head, but there always seemed to be something missing. There had to be more, something so devastating as to drive her to make sure Davy and
Lydia
didn’t follow in the footsteps of Timmy and Maria.

He’d almost asked her, but refrained from digging too deeply. The last thing he wanted was to magnify the guilt she obviously already shouldered for this tragic turn of events. Becky had respected his silence and the least he could do in return is respect hers. When she was ready to talk, he’d be ready to listen.

A week and a half later,
while Davy again searched the nearby woods for the mother deer and her fawn and
Lydia
was out job hunting, Nick and Becky stood on
Lydia
’s front lawn and surveyed their handiwork.

The newly painted house sparkled like a brilliant, white gem in the late afternoon sunlight. Despite not being able to get back to his novel, Nick hadn’t experienced this much satisfaction since he’d put the finishing touches on his cabin.

Painting the small house had only taken a few days and thanks to Becky, they’d been really well organized. While Nick had made a run into town to pick up supplies, Becky had started scraping off the old paint to ready it for the first coat. By the time he got back, she had a fairly good portion of one side ready for him to start on. Once they’d finished painting, Nick had fixed the front steps, then the loose shutter, and then they’d painted them a bright, sunshine yellow. The last repair job they’d tackled had been the ceiling in the living room that the leak had stained.

The final coat of yellow had gone on the shutters that very morning, and they’d been re-hung, which ended their to-do list of jobs. Sadness enveloped Nick when he suddenly realized that this would be the last full day he’d be spending with Becky. During their time working on
Lydia
’s house, he’d picked her up each morning, they’d spent the day working together, and then he’d dropped her off back home each night. Every day, Granny had kept them going with a generous picnic basket of goodies for lunch.

Nick had gotten so used to her being at his side that he’d never thought ahead to when there would be no reason for them to be together, unless . . .

He turned to ask Becky to have dinner with him.

Just then
Lydia
’s car pulled into the driveway. For a time, she didn’t emerge, and then she slowly got out of her car. While she paused in the middle of the driveway for a long moment, she assessed the transformation of her home. Finally, she walked toward them, her gaze glued to her house.

“I can’t believe what you two have done for us.” She hugged both of them. “This
is .
 . . It’s . . . incredible. How will I ever repay you?”

Nick chuckled, threw his arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. “That’s the best part. Friends don’t require repayment.” Good grief, he was beginning to sound like Jo Hawks. He stood back. “Now, if you ladies will join me in
Lydia
’s newly painted rockers on the porch, I have more good news.”

“I’m not sure I can take any more good news.”
Lydia
hurried toward the house.

Becky sidled up to him. “When did you paint the rockers?”

“Last night. I put them in my truck when I left, painted them when I got home, then brought them back this morning.”

Becky shook her head. “When you volunteer for a job, you don’t go halfway. I don’t know how you did it. I was totally wiped out when we left here yesterday.” She moved closer and lowered her voice. “Now, what’s the news?”

“It’s a surprise.” He tapped the end of her nose. “You’re just
gonna
have to wait to hear it until we’re on the porch.” He fixed her with his dark eyes. “And for the record, you were right. When I decide I want to do something, I never go halfway.” He let his gaze drop to her lips, and the he walked away leaving her staring after him, her mouth agape, her
heart throbbing
and her lungs gasping for air.

In the last week, she and Nick had grown closer, and even though he still had moments when the darkness hiding inside him rose to the surface and he’d plunge into a sullen silence, they’d been very few and far between. He’d become a much happier person. His smiles showed up with more frequency. His quirky sense of humor had made itself known when he’d painted the seat of Becky’s jeans the same bright yellow as the shutters. Best of all, he’d kissed her and called her love.