Chapter 4 The Test
“A nnalee?” Hawk’s quiet voice cut through her fears, rousing the hyper sense of awareness she always seemed to get when she was around him.
Not wanting to make the effect he had on her too obvious, she took her time rocking back on her heels where she was squatted down beside the couch. She left the cool, damp cloth on Miley’s forehead that she’d been using to swab it. Meeting his gaze at last, she was surprised to discover he wasn’t alone.
The Comanche at his side was old enough to be his father. He brought with him the scents of the outdoors — clean earth, grass, and sunshine.
Instantly knowing who he was, she stood and faced him, nervously holding out a hand. “Mr. Dakota?” The design on his shirt had taken a skilled seamstress many hours to create. Tiny, seed-like beads had been painstakingly sewn into the shape of a roaring bear standing on its hind legs.
“Most folks call me Running Bear. And you must be Annalee.” Instead of shaking her hand, he cradled it between his hands with a reverence she’d not been expecting. “I’ve waited a long time for this day to come.”
“Me, too, sir.” His kindness tugged at her emotions. After fearing he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her and her daughter, she was relieved to learn the opposite was true. “I’ve always hated the rift in our family.” For years, she’d been praying they would be able to make it right someday. During the last twenty-four hours, she’d been praying that prayer more fervently than ever.
“It wasn’t a rift of your making or my nephew’s making.” His swift rejoinder laid to rest one of her biggest concerns. He glanced over her shoulders to give Miley an assessing look. “Or your daughter’s making.”
Miley stirred restlessly in her sleep, moaning a little.
“Her name is Miley, sir. She injured her arm.” Annalee wasn’t sure what Hawk may or may not have told the councilman about their situation. “It got infected, and she’s running a fever. Hawk bought some antibiotics for her that we’re hoping will kick in soon.”
Running Bear abruptly dropped her hands. “I’m going to need some ginger, honey, and apple cider vinegar.” He caught Hawk’s eye. “I assume you have them on hand?”
“I do, thanks to you.” Hawk’s voice was warm with affection as he pointed toward the kitchen that had once belonged to the councilman.
Running Bear angled his head at Miley. “Keep the cold compress going while I mix her some very old medicine.”
His quiet, efficient manner spurred Annalee into motion. Though she wasn’t sure she liked the sound of “old medicine,” there was nothing alarming about the ingredients he’d listed.
She hurried back to Miley’s side to remove the cloth from her forehead. It had grown warm from her fever. She dipped it in the bowl of icy water she’d set on the end table earlier, wrung it out, and returned to swabbing her forehead and temples.
Miley stirred restlessly, muttered something that Annalee couldn’t understand.
“I’m here, my sweet baby girl.” She hummed an old hymn beneath her breath as she drew the cloth down Miley’s cheek and rested it momentarily against her hot neck.
Miley shivered and muttered something again.
Annalee had to bend her head closer to make out what she was saying.
“Smoke,” her daughter repeated.
Annalee gave the air a tentative sniff. “Yeah, I smell it, too.” She hadn’t noticed it before Miley said something, though. “I bet someone has a grill going outside. Probably making BBQ for dinner.” It was a good smell. A homey smell. However, she could understand why it disturbed her daughter.
“Fire,” Miley hissed with more energy. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, and she groaned as she struggled to sit up.
Annalee sniffed the air again, surprised to find the scent of smoke was growing stronger. She glanced toward the kitchen where Hawk and Running Bear had their heads bent over the concoction they were mixing.
“Do you smell that?” she called to them.
Hawk raised his head to meet her gaze, giving the air a sniff. Then he leaped into motion, running toward the front door and throwing it open. “Fire!” He dashed onto the porch.
Annalee followed him and was horrified to see flames licking their way across his front yard. Her head spun frantically. “Do you have a garden hose?”
“Yep.” He yanked out his cell phone. “But I think this will be quicker.” He tapped a few buttons, and a set of sprinkler heads popped up from the ground, spritzing water in perfectly placed intervals across the yard.
The blaze sizzled in protest for a few moments before being reduced to smoke.
She gaped at the hissing, steaming patch of scorched earth that was left behind. “How?” Fear gripped her at the possibility that their enemies had found them. She’d known it would happen eventually. She’d been fully expecting it, just not this soon. She’d only been on the rez for a few hours!
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Hawk stalked past her down the porch steps, striding across the yard to the scorched section of it. He walked through the sprinklers, allowing them to spatter droplets against his dark t-shirt and jeans. He squatted down to examine the ground. Then he stood with something glowing between his thumb and forefinger.
“Cigarette butt.” He walked back to Annalee, growing more soaked by the second. “It’s still smoldering.” He mounted the steps and held it out so she could see it for herself. “This is what caused the fire. This, combined with the fresh straw I’d laid out over there to cover some new grass seed.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist as she peered more closely at it. “So, you don’t think?—?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Miley isn’t locked in the cabin, and I happen to know who smokes this brand. He’s an older fella who drives past here every day about this time on his way home from work. You can be assured he and I will have a little chat about it later on.”
“Hawk,” Annalee sighed. “I want to believe you more than anything, but…” She shook her head in distress. Could she afford to take the risk?
“You can’t run forever.” He shoved back a handful of dripping black hair. “Eventually, you’ll have to choose a hill to stand on and fight. And on this hill,” he pointed down at the porch they were standing on, “you’ve at least got family at your side.” His dark gaze glinted into hers. “And you’ve got me.”
There was something formidable in his gaze. Something that gave credence to what her daughter had said to her earlier about his reputation for being the toughest bodyguard on staff at Lonestar Security.
She straightened her shoulders. “I never said anything about running.” She might have her back against the wall, but she was no weakling.
“You didn’t have to.” He stalked past her to the front door. “It’s written all over your face.”
She gasped, staring after him in indignation. Just as quickly as her anger had sizzled, it faded. He was right, she admitted glumly to herself. She had been considering running.
She followed him at a slower pace, knowing it was in no way advisable to drag Miley back onto the road in her current condition.
Or my condition.
She swallowed a sigh as she stepped back into the living room, where she found Running Bear kneeling beside the couch. It suddenly dawned on her that he hadn’t left her daughter’s side, not even while a small fire had been raging in the front yard. His actions underscored Hawk’s claim that his cabin was the hill she should be standing on while fighting their enemies.
I don’t understand what You’re doing, God. I don’t, but I trust You. Annalee was nearly at the end of her rope. Who was she to question the Creator of the universe, if He’d decided to throw her a lifeline?
“Down the hatch,” Running Bear coaxed, tipping a white porcelain mug of liquid against her daughter’s lips.
She took a sip and made a face. “Ugh! That’s crazy sour, Hawk!”
“More,” Running Bear said firmly, not bothering to correct her about his identity.
She took another sip and made a gagging sound. “What is it? Are you trying to kill me, too?” She sounded more awake this time.
“If I was, you’d already be dead,” the seasoned councilman informed her in a reasonable voice.
She cracked her eyelids open and stared at him, eyes bugging out in alarm. Digging in her bare heels against the sofa, she scooted further away from him. “You’re not Hawk!”
“Never said I was.” He held the mug out to her again.
“He’s your great-uncle, hon.” Annalee approached the couch. “Hawk was outside putting out a fire in the yard.” She glanced toward the kitchen where he was running the smoldering cigarette butt under the faucet at the sink. When he was finished, he rummaged through a drawer and withdrew a plastic bag. He zipped the damp butt inside.
“No wonder it smells so smoky in here!” Miley’s gaze took on a half-wild light as her head spun toward the front windows. “Is the witchy imposter lady back to finish what she started?”
A dry chuckle escaped Annalee. “I’ll try not to be offended by that, since you keep saying she looks just like me.”
Miley sputtered out a laugh. “But older and witchier.”
Running Bear held the mug out to her again. “The tonic will work better if you drink it.”
Miley cupped the mug between her hands and held it beneath her nose, giving its contents a suspicious sniff. “I already took some antibiotics.”
“This will speed things up.” He gestured at her to continue drinking.
Hawk called teasingly across the room, “Assuming you were serious about learning the rawhide business and getting to work anytime soon.”
Her chin came up in determination as she lifted the mug to down the rest of its contents. She handed the empty mug back to Running Bear, gagging noisily. “If it kills me, I’m coming back to haunt both of you.”
“I believe you would.” His dark eyes glinted with warmth and humor. “You’re a chip off the old block.”
Annalee was deeply gratified by his words. Running Bear walked to the kitchen to place the empty mug in the sink. Then he returned to the living room to face Annalee.
She had so many things she wanted to say to him, but she hardly knew where to begin. “Sir, if it’s alright with you, Miley and I would like to learn more about the Comanches.” Feeling Hawk’s gaze on her, she drew a shuddery breath. “I think my late husband would’ve liked that,” she finished lamely, unsure how to put her feelings into words. She was still grieving deeply for Chayton. However, there was something about being on the rez that was comforting. There was something wrapped up in his roots here that made him feel not so far away.
“I’ll teach you.” Running Bear looked pleased. “It’s all I ever wanted for my brother and his family. To remember our story. To not forget where they came from. I know that living under the stars like I do isn’t for everyone.” His expression darkened as other memories weighed on him. “Instead, my brother turned his back on us all — his family, his tribe, and our traditions. When Chayton was older, he begged his father to change his mind. It ultimately got him disinherited, but it didn’t keep him from sending money to the rez every chance he got.”
“He did?” Annalee’s hands flew to her mouth. She hadn’t known about Chayton’s philanthropic efforts.
The creases at the corners of Running Bear’s face deepened into the hint of a smile. “He supported more tribal causes and charities than you could shake a stick at.”
She bit her lower lip, wondering why her husband had never bothered to run any of it past her while he was handling the finances for Gilbert Farm. When she’d taken over the budget after his death, they’d most certainly not been able to afford such luxuries.
Running Bear didn’t seem to realize that his revelation had caught her broadside. “He was a good person. The very best. Just like the bride he picked out.” He gestured grandly at her. “Maybe your willingness to learn more about our way of life will soften the heart of my brother before it’s too late.”
She doubted her cranky father-in-law would care one way or the other, but she didn’t wish to dampen his hopes by saying so.
* * *
One month later
Over the next several weeks, Running Bear remained true to his word, visiting Annalee and Miley often to share stories about his people. He taught them ancient Comanche recipes and holidays, traditions, and folklore. He gave Annalee gardening tips and showered encouragement on Miley as she learned the rudiments of the leather carving trade.
One evening, however, he didn’t show up with any of his regaling stories. Or the evening after that. It was a full week before Annalee saw him again. She found him waiting for her and Hawk on the back porch of the cabin as they strolled there from the workshop.
He watched them climb the porch steps, eyeing her soberly. “Do you remember what I said about hoping your move to the reservation would help soften my brother’s heart?”
Our move? She’d never thought of her and Miley’s time there as permanent, but rather a temporary reprieve from the dangers waiting for them just outside the gates of the rez. However, that wasn’t what his question was about.
“I remember.” She nodded soberly, instinctively knowing he was referring to Ace Dakota’s terminal illness. “But please don’t hold your breath,” she warned softly. She hated to speak ill of someone on his deathbed, but Chayton’s father had barely been civil to her over the years. “He’s never wanted anything to do with us.” Though she’d always considered his absence in Miley’s life to be his loss, his attitude still stung.
Running Bear snorted. “It’s because he let both his first and second wives warp his better judgment. Unlike those gold diggers, you have a kind heart, and kindness is something he hasn’t experienced much of since leaving the rez.”
If he was attempting to make her feel sorry for her husband’s hardhearted father, it wasn’t working. She’d washed her hands of him a long time ago. “I honestly don’t know him very well, so I’ll just have to take your word for that.” They could probably hear the doubt in her voice, but she couldn’t help it.
Hawk opened the back door and ushered them inside. “When it comes to family, you’ve just gotta accept them as they are, warts and all.”
She sent him an incredulous look as she stepped inside the kitchen. “I’m not the one with the acceptance issues.” She couldn’t believe he was even implying such a thing. Her life was an open book for him and everyone else to read. There were no secret agendas. No hidden motivations.
“Oh, really? When was the last time you visited him?” he shot back.
She curled her hands into fists at her sides. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one on the run.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” he countered in the same tone of voice she’d used on him, “he’s the one dying.” He shut the door behind them.
She glared at him. “When was the last time you visited him?” Two could play this game.
“Few days ago,” he admitted with a grimace. “He refused to see me.” He angled his head at Running Bear, who was facing her glumly with his arms crossed. “He refused to see his brother, as well.”
The bleakness in their expressions caught her off guard. “What makes you think he’ll agree to see me?” If he and Running Bear thought they could use her to get through the thick skull of Ace Dakota, they were barking up the wrong tree.
He gestured at her with both hands. “You belonged to Chayton. It makes you the next best thing to seeing his son again before he dies.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she protested.
“What I do know,” he countered, “is that you may be our last hope of getting through to him.”
“You said you wanted to learn the Comanche ways,” Running Bear reminded mildly. “Consider this another lesson. From the oldest to the youngest, the shortest to the tallest, and the richest to the poorest, everyone in the tribe matters. We don’t turn our back on our own, even the ones who’ve made mistakes.”
It sounded downright Biblical to her. Unfortunately, it didn’t make what he was asking of her any easier. “You want me,” she pointed at herself, “to visit a man in the hospital who spent the last fifteen or so years refusing to have anything to do with me?” The odds were he would refuse to see her, the same as he’d refused to see them.
Running Bear spread his hands. “How badly do you want to be a part of our people, Annalee?”
“Very much,” she protested. “It’s just that…” Asking her to return to the same hospital where she’d been in a coma was no small favor to ask. Why couldn’t they see that? Sure, she’d since reclaimed her legal identity via a replacement driver’s license and social security card, but still!
“I’ll drive you,” Hawk offered quietly. “We can go after church tomorrow, if that sounds alright to you?”
She blinked at him. “You’re relentless! Both of you.”
He looked smug. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Of course, it was a yes! She glared at him. They had her cornered, and they knew it.
Looking amused by the anger sparking between them, Running Bear headed for the front door, mumbling something about returning to attend church with them in the morning. Then he disappeared outside.
“I’m going to need a minute,” she mumbled as she stared after him.
“Take all the time you need,” Hawk said quietly. “You know where to find me.” He grabbed a few supplies from the kitchen and carted them out to the tiny house by his workshop out back where he’d been staying ever since her arrival.
She walked to the bedroom — Hawk’s bedroom that he’d insisted she move into — to stew in her thoughts. She’d thanked him a few dozen times for the use of his cabin, probably sounding like a broken record to him, but he’d never said much in return. Was his and Running Bear’s latest request their way of exacting payment in return for all they’d done for her and Miley? Had this been their plan all along to use her like this?
But, no. That wouldn’t explain his exorbitant kindness to her daughter. He’d willingly taken her on as an apprentice, and he’d just as willingly placed fresh sheets and blankets on a daybed in the second bedroom he’d been using as an office. Annalee had helped him. She’d never forget the day he’d ushered Miley gallantly from the living room into her new digs.
She replayed the memory of it inside her head:
“Here’s the room and board you negotiated, kid.” He watched her daughter closely for her response, knowing she’d been expecting to crash on a cot in his shop.
She’d perked up pretty quickly after her second dose of antibiotics. It probably helped that she’d downed the entire tonic Running Bear had mixed for her.
“It’s nothing fancy,” he drawled. “Hope you’re not too disappointed.”
She gave a slow twirl to take in the faded rag rug over the rustic hardwood floor. Her hand lightly trailed over the side of the antique metal daybed, while her gaze danced over the simple cross hanging over it. The walls were the palest of blue, simple but clean and inviting. Since Miley had never been into ribbons and frills, Annalee was confident she was going to feel right at home here.
“It’s perfect!” Miley’s eyes adopted a mischievous twinkle. “Absolutely perfect for a rawhide apprentice.” She spun back toward Hawk. “How soon can I get started?”
“Monday,” he said firmly. “Between now and then, you need to rest up as much as you can.”
She blew out a breath. “I feel like I’ve been in bed for a million years already.”
“Make it two million, then.” He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic about his stance on the issue. “We need you to be in the best shape possible by Monday.”
“Tyrant,” she muttered beneath her breath, but there was no malice in her voice.
Annalee chuckled and left the room to allow Miley to settle in her own way.
Hawk followed her to the living room. “Do you need anything else before I take off for the evening?” He angled his head toward the house trailer that was parked out back.
She shook her head. “You’ve done more than enough for us. Way more.” She scanned his face anxiously. “Are you sure about this, Hawk?”
He looked puzzled. “Sure about what?”
“Giving up your cabin for us.” It was unbelievably generous of him. She’d fully expected her and her daughter to be the ones occupying the tiny house parked next to his workshop. “Now that Miley’s feeling better, it would be no trouble at all to move us out there like you originally planned.”
“Funny.” His gaze clashed with hers, making her heart beat faster. “It doesn’t feel like I’m giving up anything at all.”
“Well, you are,” she insisted, “and for two people you barely know.”
He shrugged. “I doubt you’ll be able to say that for much longer.” He glanced toward the second bedroom. “Having Miley as my apprentice and you running point on the master gardener project will make us feel like old friends in no time.”
She felt a twinge of something deep down — something that wasn’t a big fan of being called an “old friend” of his. She wanted to be something else to him. Something more. The thought was immediately followed by a stab of guilt. She had no business entertaining thoughts like that. Not now. Not so soon after losing Chayton.
A month ago, her thoughts about him had felt disloyal, and being disloyal wasn’t the Comanche way. A month later, her fretting had faded into something else — something more accepting of what was happening between her and Hawk. She wasn’t sure what to call it yet, but it was something.
* * *