Aric nodded vigorously.
Okay then. Hawk picked the kid up—so damned light, even after three weeks of feeding him everything he could consume.
Veering past a pungent batch of anglers debating about rods and reels, Hawk sighed. Combat fishing had begun, from battling for positions on the river to arguing about gear, and then, to his brother Bull’s disgust, brawling in the roadhouse over who’d caught the biggest fish.
When they passed the grocery, Dante, the owner, saluted them through the display window. Aric gave a shy wave back, and the white-haired Okie grinned.
Across the street, the local handymen, Chevy and Knox, were replacing a cracked window in the hair salon and spa.
“Yo, Aric.” Knox held up a hammer in greeting. “Hey, Hawk. We’ll be done with this job by tomorrow and free to take on more of your projects.”
“Good.” Because there were still more buildings to fix. “Call me.”
The two men nodded.
Hawk and Aric continued down Main Street. Sometimes it seemed as if there was no end to renovating the buildings he and his brothers had inherited. In the years before his death, Mako bought up a shitload of failing businesses in Rescue to help the people wanting to leave Alaska. Then a ski resort and hotel re-opened nearby, bringing in an influx of tourists. When the sarge died a year and a half ago, he’d left everything to Hawk and his brothers, expecting them to help bring the town back to life.
So, they were choosing good people to lease the businesses—and renovating a lot of the buildings first. For his part of the tasks, Hawk supervised the carpenters, because no way would he deal with the showing and leasing shit. His brothers liked people; he didn’t.
He could manage the repair people, electricians, and plumbers, though. And, at the moment, he had the time. With a sigh, he hefted Aric to a better position. With the kid attached to him like this, Hawk wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Near the end of downtown, he entered a small building to check on Milo and Orion, his most recent hires.
With a full brown beard and long hair in a bun, Orion was as laid-back as he looked. He was laying down new flooring in the main space.
Clean-shaven with a shaved scalp, Milo was tall and lanky—the opposite of Orion in looks and personality. But he had decent skills and was doing finish work on the built-in cabinetry.
After nodding at their greetings, Hawk set Aric down. “Don’t touch the tools, right?”
Aric nodded solemnly. He was so obedient it was worrisome, but there was hope. Three weeks ago, he wouldn’t’ve let Hawk get more than a couple of feet away. Now, as long as Hawk was somewhere in sight, the kid was comfortable.
“Any problems?” Hawk asked the two men.
“Floor in the bathroom has some dry rot,” Orion reported. “The boards need replacing.”
“Give me numbers. I’ll get an order in.”
Milo walked over, watching as Aric trotted to a pile of sawdust. “I heard his mother’s getting out today.”
Nosy bastard. “Yeah.”
“I guess she’ll be looking for work. Good timing what with it being tourist season.”
Orion shook his head. “I doubt she’ll be working anytime soon. There was a reason she was in rehab—those PZ bastards busted her up pretty bad.”
“Shut it.” Hawk checked where the kid was. Thankfully, Aric was across the room, poking his finger in a hole in the flooring, and probably hadn’t heard.
Orion winced. “Sorry, Hawk. I got a big mouth.”
Hawk shrugged. Orion was right; the PZs were bastards. And Kit’s asshole husband had been trying to kick her to death when Hawk killed him.
“Yeah, you do.” Milo shot Orion a cold look and stalked back to the cabinets.
Frowning, Hawk asked Orion, “You two okay?” He’d hired them separately and put them together.
Easy-going Orion shrugged. “Yeah, we’re good. He pulls his weight. Just sometimes gets a hair up his ass.”
Hawk nodded and took a minute to check over their work, pleased to find it up to his standards.
Across the room, Aric was drawing pictures in the sawdust.
Frowning, Milo was watching him. Seeing Hawk had noticed, he muttered, “Cute boy,” and got back to work.
“Let’s go, kid.” Hawk scooped Aric up.
Smiling happily, Aric grabbed onto Hawk’s flannel shirt.
The sawdust covering the little fingers inevitably covered the fabric. When Hawk brushed it off, Aric cringed.
“At ease. Some people give a damn about getting dirty; I don’t.”
He could almost hear Mako’s rumbling voice. “Never trust a man who’s afraid to get his hands dirty.”
The kid hadn’t relaxed.
So, taking Aric’s hand, Hawk blew on the fingers, sending sawdust over them both.
And got one of the boy’s tiny laughs.
Chapter Two
The only way to have a friend is to be one. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
“Here, this room is for you and Aric.” Frankie opened the door.
With a hand on her aching ribs, Kit stepped past her friend.
Dark blue curtains matched the blue and green quilt. Bronze-colored lamps and picture frames added warmth. Her eyes prickled at the welcoming atmosphere.
In one corner, rather than a chair, there was a loveseat. What with abdominal surgery and broken ribs, it’d be a while before she could have her boy sitting on her lap. But the loveseat was big enough she could read to Aric with him snuggled up beside her, and there was even a beautiful, comfy throw blanket.
Her bestie was the most thoughtful person in the world.
“The bathroom is here.” Frankie opened a door on the left wall, then another beside it. “Closet. I added some warmer clothes.”
“Frankie…” Sweet heavens, it was hard to accept charity, even from a friend. Maybe because she’d learned how some people could resent the act of giving. Aunt Norma and her husband, Duane, had raised her after her parents died—and constantly said how she should be grateful for their charity and generosity. Frankie wasn’t like them, but the feeling of obligation was heavy, even if it was to her best friend.
Frankie laughed. “I recognize that worried expression. Yes, I did a lot for you, but girl, if I hadn’t come here to help you, I wouldn’t have Bull. In a way, I feel like I owe you.” After rescuing Kit, Frankie stayed in Alaska to be with Bull. She really did have the glow of love about her.
Kit couldn’t keep from smiling.
A rumbling laugh came from the doorway. “We both owe you, Kit.” Bull walked in slowly, as if he recognized how scary his size was, especially to a woman who’d been imprisoned by the PZs. The man was at least three or four inches over six feet and massive. But his wide smile was friendly, his dark eyes kind—and when he looked at Frankie, it was obvious he adored her.
Looking past Bull into the hallway, Kit frowned. “I thought Aric would be with you. Would—” Would want to see his mother, would be waiting for her…
“Ah, he was.” Bull grinned. “He helped make your bed, in fact, but then Hawk got a call. Last week, he flew some campers into the Chugach range and was to pick them up next week, but somebody got hurt. Not badly enough for an air ambulance, but he needed a lift out.”