He could see Hawk’s footprints. Short and light, the children created less sign than Hawk, but there was grass springing back on two paths. The children had separated, probably hoping to flank him. Caz smiled his approval.
Back when Aric moved in, Caz had expected his daughter to display only-child territorialism. But the boy had been so damaged and frightened that Regan’s big heart was engaged. Rather than pushing him away, she’d decided he’d be her little brother.
No youngster could have a fiercer protector than Caz’s little girl.
Caz shook his head, wondering how he’d been so lucky.
Heart pounding in excitement, Regan glanced to her left where Aric was supposed to be. The fog sure made everything weird, and he was so little he just disappeared.
Big and tall, Hawk was easier to spot, although he was pretty good at moving quietly in the forest. Not as good as Papá, but no one was as good as him.
I will be someday. I will.
But he was proud of her, and that was just…just dope.
He loved her and so did JJ. Regan sighed a little cuz she’d really like to call JJ Mamá. Anyway, she had uncles and Frankie and Audrey. Having family was everything.
Aric had only his mama, although Kit was pretty Gucci. Kind of quiet, but she knew everything about the garden. And when she read stories to them, she’d cuddle Regan just like she did Aric.
It’d be major if Kit and Aric stayed at the Hermitage, and then Regan could have a little brother.
Papá and the uncles made a team. She and Aric could be their own team and protect each other like Papá and his brothers.
Realizing the tiny noises from Hawk walking had stopped, Regan froze for a second.
Nothing.
Silently, she moved forward, checking each place her foot would land and avoiding branches that might rustle.
When the fog swirled, she spotted Aric’s light hair to her left.
And in front, there was Hawk.
Foot raised, she stilled.
What was he doing? Leaning against a tree, he was staring at…
Bunnies!
Uncle Gabe said the rabbits here were called snowshoe hares, and they turned brown in the summer.
Another one hopped out, and Regan almost squealed. Three little gray-brown bunnies. So cute!
After a minute, she blinked. Oh, oops. Bad Regan. Uncle Gabe would be frowning and ordering, “Focus.”
She totally hadn’t.
And Aric? He’d probably lose it worse than her and run toward the bunnies.
No, he was crouched and waiting. He sure acted older than a preschooler. Papá said it was because the pissers had been mean to him. She wanted to kick them all.
Focus, stupidhead. Hawk wasn’t moving. This is our chance.
Aric turned his head to look at her.
She was team leader, so she pointed to him and made a curving motion. Go around Hawk. Aric was even quieter than she was, so he’d be better at sneaking around Hawk
Then she pointed to him again and pretended to snap a stick in half. He knew that signal cuz Papá showed them how to make little noises for diversions—even if Aric couldn’t say the word.
He signaled okay and headed off.
Taking her time, she crept closer to Hawk.
A stick cracked across the clearing.
Hawk looked that way.
Regan dashed across the small space, slapped his leg, and dove to the ground. Win!
Sitting up, she blinked as she heard a really rare sound.
Uncle Hawk was laughing.
Monday evening, as Kit got out of her car in Soldotna, she realized she’d been thinking about Hawk most of the day.
Last night, she’d cried all over the guy. He’d simply held her without talking, making a soothing, growly sound.
After she’d stopped bawling like a baby, she’d rested her head on him and listened to his heart beating, felt how his chest rose and fell. His iron-hard arms were gentle, but…unyielding. He hadn’t released her; her crying hadn’t upset him.
Being near him was like being enclosed in a bubble of peace. She hadn’t felt so sheltered since…
She frowned. There’d been no safety with her aunt or, really, any of the guys she’d been with. Maybe not since her parents died.
In the counseling center, Kit entered the group session room and breathed in the air lightly scented with jasmine.
Taking a seat, Kit exchanged greetings with the others. When the clock hit seven, the counselor started the session, talking about sex after surviving sexual assault.
Kit shifted uncomfortably. Wasn’t this just a timely subject?
After the lecture, the discussion started.
A couple of women volunteered that they had no interest in sex whatsoever.
Fernanda never wanted to be with a man again but might have found a girlfriend.
Diana, who was married, had resumed sexual relations, but Signy was having plenty of problems. Her husband had grown impatient at how long she was taking to get back to what he considered normal.
Getting back to normal would really be nice, wouldn’t it? Thinking of Hawk, Kit bit her lip.
The counselor, darn her, noticed. “Kit, where are you at in the journey?”
“I’m…” She felt warmth searing her cheeks. “First, I feel weirdly guilty because I haven’t lost interest in sex.”
“At all?” Fernanda asked, obviously shocked.
“Uh, right after, for a couple of months, even the thought was sickening. But now, things seem alive again, and…”
“And?” Diana prompted.
“I’ve always liked sex—a lot. The physical parts of it and getting off. I’d like to have a sex life back, only”—she pulled in a breath—“I feel kind of like a slut or something.”
The response from the others was so reassuring.
Even better, Fernanda with the new girlfriend felt the same and had the same disconcerting guilt—as if she shouldn’t want sex any longer, but she did.
Which was stupid when it came right down to it. Did Kit want Obadiah and the other creeps to steal something she’d always enjoyed?
No, she wasn’t about to let them win that game in her head.
“Do you have someone in mind?” Diana asked. “To have sex with?”
“Um, yes?” Oh, God, how could she talk about Hawk?
How could she not?
She almost laughed. Thank goodness the group sessions were in Soldotna rather than Rescue. “He…he’s the one I asked to care for my son.”
They’d all shared their stories at this point, so Signy clarified, “The one who saved you and killed your husband?”
“You have the hots for your rescuer,” another said. “That could be like some hero syndrome or something?”
“Maybe.” The counselor frowned slightly. “Tell us about him, Kit. The good and the bad.”
Hmm. “He doesn’t talk much. Part of it is that his throat was damaged when he was a kid; partly, I think he just doesn’t like to talk.” She smiled a little. “And he swears a ton and sounds grumpy all the time. He has tattoos up both arms. And scars—a lot of those. He was a mercenary after being in the army.”
“Did you know you’d asked a mercenary to watch over your boy?” Fernanda sounded horrified.
“Not at the time. I was pretty shocked when I found out.” Kit half-laughed. “And even more when I watched him with his brother’s dog. He was telling the dog that he didn’t like dogs and the stupid thing should leave him alone. And I thought I really had screwed up to trust him with my son.”