Soar high, p.5
Soar High, page 5
Tourists from the Lower 48 loved floatplanes.
But returning to full time piloting would have to be delayed. It seemed the kid wasn’t ready for Hawk to be gone long hours or overnight.
From the chicken pen came the sound of Regan’s laughter and chatter. Caz’s daughter had drafted Aric to help her gather eggs. With a heart as big as her father’s, Regan had taken the boy under her wing.
Since she was out of school for the summer, everyone at the Hermitage had been taking turns babysitting her. Caz said Kit had volunteered for today.
Speaking of which, Hawk spotted the woman walking a circuit around the courtyard perimeter. Her expression was that of an army recruit gutting through morning PT, determined to get stronger, no matter the pain involved. Guess he knew where Aric’s stubbornness had come from.
He had to respect her willpower.
Unlike Aric, she looked tired today. Shoulders sagging slightly, dark circles under her eyes. Her arm was in a sling, although he’d seen her take it out when trying to do anything. At least the damage from her husband’s fists had healed.
Every time he’d seen her bruised face in the hospital, he wanted to dig the bastard up and kill him again.
The two children appeared, detouring to show Kit the basket of eggs, before crossing the courtyard to the houses.
“The eggs go to Bull’s house today. He gets extra cuz you and your mom live there now,” Regan told Aric. Followed by the boy and Bull’s dog, Gryff, Regan led the way up onto the deck to set the basket on a shelf. She and Aric stopped to pet her giant furball of a cat who’d perched on the railing to supervise.
Hawk shook his head. The Hermitage sure had changed in the last year. The sarge had been one paranoid survivalist-type to begin with. Then, having illegally brought Hawk, Gabe, Bull, and Caz to Alaska from a California foster home, he’d grown even more cautious. When he’d moved to Rescue, the only people permitted on the property were his four sons and Doc Grayson. Later, he’d allowed Dante, an old Vietnam vet friend, to visit and then…Lillian.
Hawk had to admit it’d been a shock to learn that Mako and Lillian had been lovers.
“Way to go, Sarge.” Hawk lifted his Coke in a toast.
But the sarge had crossed the river, and shit was changing.
Gabe had started the upheaval. A year ago, Audrey had arrived in Rescue, running from a hitman. The sweet, brainy librarian had surprising courage, and Gabe had fallen hard.
Then, needing help in the police station, Gabe brought in Officer Jayden at the same time Caz had discovered he had a kid. Regan was a hell of a gutsy little girl—and had almost killed herself trying to rescue that stray cat from a fucking blizzard. Good kid.
And JJ was a good woman, as Caz had learned.
Last spring, Bull rescued the brown mutt—a Bernese mountain-shepherd mix—from an asshole who was into dogfighting. Gryff deserved better. So, the Hermitage acquired a damn dog.
Couple of months ago, Frankie came to Alaska to rescue Kit and Aric. Hawk smirked. The New Yorker had a temper, and when she started swearing in Italian, it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. She and Bull fit perfectly.
Now, Kit and Aric were here. The Hermitage was getting fucking crowded.
Aric trotted off Bull’s deck, collected a hug from his mother, and started for Hawk’s place, undoubtedly for another covert check.
Hawk raised a hand.
Startled, the kid stood for a second as if to ensure Hawk wasn’t planning to do anything unexpected—like leave—then ran to rejoin Regan.
Regan had grabbed a camera case off Caz’s deck. “Hey, Aric, Papá gave me his camera, so we can take pictures of the baby ducks. I can take pictures of you an’ your mom too.” The girl turned to Kit for permission since they had a rule of no kids near the water without an adult watching.
Kit nodded and angled in that direction.
Good mom.
Chapter Four
Make yourself a sheep and the wolves will eat you. ~ Ben Franklin
* * *
On Sunday evening, Kit followed Frankie across the Hermitage courtyard, and her heartrate increased at the number of people on the patio.
No, no, there weren’t so many. Really.
The logic didn’t help.
One by one, she named them, trying to convince herself to relax.
Bull was grilling freshly caught salmon.
In a cute chef’s hat, ten-year-old Regan was helping him. It was adorable how much she looked like her father, Cazador, who stood nearby.
Prior to her rescue, Caz had set her arm—before Obadiah broke it a second time. The dark-haired, dark-eyed nurse practitioner had been kind, his hands gentle, as he asked her how she’d been hurt. However, with Aric held hostage in the PZ compound, she’d had to lie.
Beside Caz was his girlfriend, JJ. About Kit’s height, but far more muscular, the police officer had a strong face, neck-length, curly auburn hair, and bright turquoise eyes. She and Audrey had visited Kit in the hospital to reassure her that they’d help care for Aric.
Rescue’s librarian, blonde Audrey, stood at the other end of the picnic table with her fiancé, Gabe. A big man with a rough-hewn, cynical face, the chief of police was JJ’s boss.
His eyes narrowed when he saw Kit.
Fear jolted through her, and her feet came to a halt.
Living in Bull’s house, she’d gotten used to Bull and his size—as long as he didn’t move too fast. Although shorter, Gabe was even scarier.
Audrey slapped Gabe’s arm and said something to him. He blinked, and his expression changed. They both moved forward.
Heaven help her, but she wanted to run. I will not flee.
Tensing, she held her ground.
Eyes filled with sympathy, Audrey said, “When I first got to Rescue, Gabe looked at me with his I’m-a-mean-old-cop expression, and I almost ran too.”
Kit’s mouth dropped open, and her stomach went tight. “Don’t—” But he didn’t backhand his girlfriend for hitting him or for the insult.
No, he wouldn’t. Normal people didn’t act like that.
She pulled in a breath. Although she’d lived only months with the PZs, somehow, they’d warped her world.
After another quick breath, she managed to smile at the police chief. “Forgive me, please. Your…expression…is quite effective.”
“All the better to scare the bad guys with.” His grin was rueful and charming. “I didn’t mean to use it on you. Sorry. I’m glad you’re finally here and out of rehab.”
At the sincerity in his blue eyes, she relaxed. “Me too.” She tried to keep the quaver out of her voice. “Thank you so very much for your part in my rescue.”
He blinked, then shook his head. “I’m only sorry we didn’t make it in before you got so hurt.”
He’d risked his life, yet felt bad the rescue hadn’t been faster? Her fear drained away. “Bones heal. You got the children out. Got Aric out. If there is ever anything I can do for any of you, you have it.”
“Just work on getting better.” He grinned at her. “I’d been wanting to shut those bast—” Audrey’s elbow impacted his ribs, and he grunted and amended his words. “Uh, those PZs down since I met the first one. I’m grateful Frankie let us help.”
She could hear the sincerity in his voice. He really was a nice person, wasn’t he? All of them were—and they’d saved her, and even more importantly, her son.
Averting her gaze, she blinked away tears. Where was her son?
There, on the other side of the patio with Hawk.
Tall, broad shouldered, with his sleeves rolled up over muscular forearms to reveal those amazing tattoos, Hawk was helping Aric throw a ball for Gryff to retrieve.
As if he’d felt her gaze, Hawk turned. His eyes sharpened, probably at the tears in her eyes.
At her slightly wavery smile, he gave her a chin-lift.
Aric bounced, waving his hand at her to get her to come over.
“I guess I’d better see what’s going on. Excuse me.” After smiling at Audrey and Gabe, she joined him. “What’s up, honey bear?”
His eyes got wide and uncertain.
Hawk frowned before making an interrogative sound. Did the man have a restricted number of words he was allowed to use in a day?
Still, it was wonderful he could read Aric so accurately.
Reluctantly, she explained what had worried her son. “Obadiah ordered me to only use Aric’s name. He said endearments—especially from a woman—would weaken a man.”
Hawk’s expression hardened.
Yes, she’d been a failure as a parent. She knew that.
He looked down at Aric and growled, “Obadiah was an idiot.” His tone made her shiver, yet Aric didn’t seem afraid in the least.
She swallowed and owned her failure in a whisper. “So was I.”
“You were conned. That’s different.” His dark blond brows drew together. “No endearments. And Aric whispers.”
She nodded. “Only the men were permitted to talk freely. To be loud.”
“Yeah, no. He needs to see it’s okay to make noise.”
“Of course.”
Hawk’s mouth tightened, and she knew she’d missed something.
Then he asked, “But if his mom’s terrified to raise her voice…?”
* * *
Aric’s mother took a step back, looking like he’d slapped her. Hawk winced.
Hell, he’d fucked up, hadn’t he?
How else could he explain that the way she tiptoed around and spoke barely above a whisper would influence the kid? If she acted as if she’d be yelled at for making noise, the boy would never change.
He watched as she recovered. As her gaze dropped to her son.
“You didn’t realize,” he said slowly.
She shook her head and said softly, “After a while—” Her hands clenched…and then her chin came up, and her voice emerged much louder. “After a while, staying quiet becomes a habit.”
Eyes wide, Aric stared at her.
So did Hawk.
She had a beautiful mouth, sweetly curved lips with the bottom one bigger than the top…and it quivered as she smiled at her son. “Aric, Obadiah and those men were wrong to order us to be quiet all the time. Sometimes, whispering is good—like when someone is sleeping, and you don’t want to wake them up. But when we’re with friends—like now—we can be just as loud as they are.”
The way the kid watched his mother as if she was an unexploded landmine made Hawk smother a laugh.
And made him want to pound a few heads together for what the kid had gone through.
But when the slender young woman discovered she had a motherlode of courage inside her? Now that was an honor to watch.
And when she turned and yelled across the patio, “Hey, Bull, I’m starving. When do we eat?” Hawk almost cheered.
Kit blinked and stared up at the ceiling. Oh look, I’m awake. Again. For what—the third time tonight? She shouldn’t have had that can of caffeinated soda at supper. She knew better. But, oh, it was such a lovely indulgence to enjoy the foods Obadiah had forbidden.
Unfortunately, the caffeine meant her brain kept waking her back up after an hour or two of sleep. Darn it.
Earlier, on the patio, she’d eventually relaxed around the Hermitage residents, although it would be nice if the guys were timid nerds instead of obviously dangerous. But during the meal at the oak picnic table, they’d been thoughtful when speaking to her, using gentle tones and expressions. Much the same as they were with Aric.
Eventually, she might resent being treated as if she was weak, but right now—she wrinkled her nose in annoyance—right now, she really was a wussy, and their consideration helped.
Because she was also far too inclined to panic. Like when they’d started sitting down. Frankie motioned for Kit to sit beside her near the middle, and Kit had frozen.
Then Hawk looked at her and pointed to the end of the bench. “Sit there.”
Also seated in the middle, Audrey frowned. “But we want her near us.”
He shook his head and told Kit, “Your instincts want an escape route. For now.”
He’d been right. The knot inside her had relaxed when she sat at the end…because she could run away if needed. Or jump out and put Aric behind her.
How had he known? As big and tough as he was, he’d never had fears like hers.
Once settled, she’d had a wonderful time. She’d forgotten how enjoyable it was to eat and talk with pleasant people. Intelligent ones who had busy lives. Ones who could argue about almost anything without getting upset. They didn’t believe there was only one way to do things, and no one else should voice an opinion.
The women spoke up as often as the men—and so did Regan.
Although Kit would need to make her own way and couldn’t stay here long, the interactions of the Hermitage family were exactly what she and Aric needed to see.
Caring, consideration, and equality.
Aric was already changing. Returning to the young imp he’d been before.
She grinned. He’d played so hard he’d been half asleep when she put him to bed.
Rolling onto her side, she reached out to the narrow cot beside her bed. Just to touch him, to reassure herself he was alive and safe.
The bed was empty.
Her heart gave a horrible thump. Where could he be?
The bathroom? No. The door was open, the room dark.
Arm pressed to her sore ribs, she sat up and pushed to her feet.
Soft footsteps sounded in the hallway. A big man shadowed the doorway and made a snort of exasperation. “See? Your mom’s awake.” The deep rasping voice was familiar.
“Hawk.”
One big arm under Aric’s butt, he carried her son in and set him on the cot. Aric stared at him.
“This time, stay here,” Hawk said. How could such a stern, harsh voice be so gentle?
Aric shook his head, his lower lip poking out. Her son could be extremely stubborn.
“This time?” Kit asked.
“Second time tonight.”
A man had entered her bedroom while she was sleeping. Icy fear slid up her spine.
Hawk rubbed his cheek where a scar parted his beard, then sighed. “Boy, if I bunk in the living room, will you stay put?”
Aric eyed Hawk, then nodded slowly.
“On the sectional?” Kit asked.
“It’s big enough.” He ruffled Aric’s hair. “Go to sleep, kid. I’ll be close enough.”
As Aric lay down, Kit tucked him in. Even before she kissed his cheek, he was falling asleep.
When she turned, Hawk had already disappeared.
* * *
Nice of Bull to keep a couple of heavy throw blankets on the back of the sectional, Hawk thought. He set his boots by the sliding glass door and stretched out. It was a comfortable enough couch for a nap, but he wouldn’t sleep that deep or long. Not on a couch. Not in someone else’s house—even his brother’s.
Then again, he wasn’t getting much sleep what with hauling the kid’s ass back over here. But there was no choice. Aric needed to be with his mother.
Such a damn pretty mother. Big, wide eyes and soft mouth. And even softer-looking breasts.
Dammit, don’t notice those things, dumbass.
Hawk had expected her to yell—or burst into tears. He’d scared her—and he’d also seen the flash of hurt that her son needed someone else.
But she’d sucked it up, and as he left, she’d been tucking her boy in. Kissing him on the cheek.
Lucky kid. What would it feel like to be the recipient of all that love?
Chapter Five
Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. ~ Unknown
* * *
Midweek, in her Toyota 4Runner, JJ glanced over at her passenger and winced at the way Kit was holding her side. It wouldn’t do the woman any good to arrive at her physical therapy appointment already in pain.
JJ slowed the vehicle a bit more. “Sorry. I know how much bouncing can hurt.”
“That sounds like the voice of experience. I bet police work gets pretty rough.”
“Sometimes.” JJ hadn’t spent much time with Kit, but she was finding the woman was just as sweet as Frankie had said. “Back in Nevada, I got on the wrong side of a bullet during a drug gang’s takedown.”
At Kit’s wide eyes, JJ laughed. “No, no big holes. I had on body armor. But just the impact cracked a rib.”
“Sheesh, what a job.”
When they went over the next dip, Kit bent forward, making a pained sound. “Why does this section have so many ruts? The rest is in decent shape.”
“You can thank Mako for that.”
“Why?”
JJ shook her head. “You know this was Mako’s place at first, with the guys just visiting, right?”
“Actually, no.”
“Okay, let’s see. The sarge was retired career military, and he raised the guys out in the middle of nowhere, but when they grew up and left, he got…” JJ had slowed the car to a crawl. “During his service, he’d been deployed to Vietnam and some uglier areas, and suffered from PTSD and paranoia. Caz said he had a sense of impending doom—as though the world was going to go up in flames at any moment. He wanted to be prepared.”
“Frankie said he was a survivalist.”
“Big time.” JJ thought of the arsenal that would put most police station armories to shame. The tunnels under the houses. “He went way past the basic prepper stuff, like the solar panels and generators and stocking up on food.”
Kit gave her a smile. “I love the way the Hermitage is set up, actually. It makes my permaculture heart happy.”
“Agreed. The houses even shrug off earthquakes,” JJ said with a laugh. “But, back to the road. The sarge designed it so that, from Swan Avenue, it seems to dead-end. If someone does make it around the U-curve, this section is so rutted, it appears impassible. I must admit his strategy is effective. No tourists try to visit this side of the lake.”
As JJ stopped the car before turning onto Swan, Kit turned slightly to look behind them. “I see. You can’t even tell that the road turns and continues.”
