“Here.” Once again, Hawk stood in front of her, hand out.
She hesitated, realized she wasn’t scared, and took a grip.
His hand was warm, callused, strong.
Once she was up, she registered again just how big he was. Not Bull’s height, but their powerful musculature was very similar.
After an assessing look, as if checking that she was steady on her feet, he stepped away and returned to his chair.
Before she checked out the books, she noticed a bowl on one shelf. It was filled with sparkly rocks of assorted sizes, shapes, and colors. Her lips twitched, and she glanced over her shoulder. “Aric’s?”
Hawk nodded.
Uh-huh. Mr. Tough and Deadly had given her son a special bowl and a place to keep his rocks. She suppressed a little sigh.
The books on the shelves were a glimpse into his mind. Louis L’Amour, Zane Grey, Larry McMurtry. Even Tony Hillerman. A gurgle of laughter escaped her. “Why do I get the impression you wish we were back in the days of the cowboys?”
“Westerns are fun to read; not so much to live.” His grin flashed. “No planes.”
Yes, she’d watched him piloting his helicopter with utter concentration and, even more, a deep joy.
He walked over, and as he reached past her, she breathed in the scent of warm male skin and the lingering fragrance of his soap—like the ocean with a hint of citrus. Mmm.
His finger slid over the books, then he pulled out a Louis L’Amour and handed it to her.
“The Cherokee Trail”? She flipped it over. The blurb talked about a woman managing a rundown stagecoach station.
“About a woman,” Hawk said. “She had guts—reminds me of you.”
With a nod, he headed into the kitchen, leaving her standing there, utterly flabbergasted.
Utterly delighted.
Chapter Nine
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
“That’s wonderful. I’ll be there, thank you.” In Mako’s house, Kit set the landline phone down on the end table with a sigh of relief and a bit of anxiety.
Done. Now she could relax. With that in mind, she picked up her book—the third loaner from Hawk in the last three days.
Louis L’Amour—and his Sacketts—had become her favorite occupation for downtime. Maybe because the heroes reminded her of Hawk. The Sacketts were rugged men, their speech blunt, their social graces awkward. More than anything, they were honorable and honest—and treated women with respect. It was wonderful to be reminded that not all men were like the…the pissers.
Back out on the deck, she smiled at the children sitting in the grass and painting the rocks they’d gathered and washed.
Because the garden paths needed some decoration—or so she’d declared.
“Look, Mama.” Aric held up his latest creation. “A rainbow.”
“Perfect choice, honey bear. I love rainbows.”
Fingers now multi-colored, he beamed at her and started on the next one.
“Look, Kit.” Regan held up her own in beautiful swirls of green and turquoise.
“That’s beautiful, Regan. I know just the place for it in the garden.”
Regan grinned, then told Aric, “Here, want some of my yellow for that rock?”
The girl was a sweetheart, infinitely patient.
Aric was turning back into the active little monkey he’d been before. Happy and free. Could anything be more wonderful?
Across the courtyard, Frankie came out of her cabin, spotted Kit, and disappeared back inside. When she came out again, she had a tote bag in her hand as she headed for Kit. “Did you call the shelter? What’s going to happen?”
“I did, and the staff will have everyone together in a private room so I can talk to them at two o’clock tomorrow.”
Frankie dropped into a chair, setting her feet up on the railing. “Perfect.” She placed the tote in Kit’s lap. “Here is the money Bull switched over to hundreds for you.”
All the twenties had been too bulky. Packets of $100-dollar bills would be much easier to hand out and conceal. “Awesome. Tell him thank you.”
“I will.” Frankie tapped her lips. “So, we’ll drop you off at the shelter, then go to Bull’s restaurant and let Hawk, Aric, and me enjoy munchies while my poor man gets stuck with the management stuff. Afterward, we’ll pick you back up.”
“Wait.” Kit snickered. “You get the munchies, and Bull is stuck in a boring meeting?”
“Of course.” Frankie put her nose in the air. “I manage the Rescue roadhouse. His restaurants in Homer and Anchorage—and the brewery—are his problem.”
“Oh. Right. I knew that,” Kit said agreeably, knowing that sneaky Bull would eventually talk Frankie into managing more than just one restaurant.
“Are you okay, amica mia?” Frankie reached over and squeezed Kit’s hand. “Will it be hard on you to see them again?”
“Mmm, some? It helps that Aric will stay with Hawk.” Kit smiled at her son, so happily playing with Regan. “I don’t think it’d be good for him to go to the shelter. He saw too many of the women and children getting hurt.”
“So did you,” Frankie said softly. “How close did you get to the other women?”
“We weren’t really friends, exactly. The men didn’t allow us to talk with each other.”
At Frankie’s appalled stare, Kit grimaced and deepened her voice, “ ‘Gossip is the devil’s work’. Unfortunately, some of the women who were true-believers would tattle on any rule breakers.”
Kit had been caned twice before she’d accepted that friendship wouldn’t be part of her life.
“Tomorrow will undoubtedly bring back ugly memories.” Kit rubbed her cheek, feeling the slightly raised line of the scar. “I want to put the PZ stuff behind me, but I need to hand out the money from the cave.”
“Bull or I would go instead, you know.”
Kit smiled. “You really are the bestest friend.”
“Then—”
“No. Bull probably wouldn’t even be allowed in. And the women might refuse to see a stranger, even you.”
This was also a rather questionable appropriation of funds. She wouldn’t risk getting Frankie or Bull in trouble for it.
And no staff would be in the room when she handed each woman her stack of bills. If any PZ or official found out about the money, Parrish might claim it, or the police would impound it. The women sure wouldn’t see any.
They were in the same boat as Kit. Savings gone. Belongings sold by their husbands. Like Kit, they needed a way to start over.
Kit would be the one going in. She just…didn’t really want to go.
No choice.
She’d have to suck it up and deal with her fears.
Hey, what was one more terror in the midst of so many, right?
Chapter Ten
Always remember to pillage BEFORE you burn. ~ Unknown
Midmorning on Thursday, Nabera heard a car door outside, then Alvin’s voice calling a greeting to someone.
Luka had arrived at the farm. It was about time the lieutenant showed up to explain what had come up.