Hawk's Way Grooms Read online

  Friends, Mac. Not lovers. Friends.

  Mac made himself kiss her eyelids closed before he kissed each cheek and then her nose and then…her forehead.

  He rose abruptly and pulled her to her feet. She was dizzy, because her eyes had been closed, so he was forced to hold her in his arms until she was steady. She felt so good there, so very right. And so very wrong.

  “I’m sorry, Jewel,” he said. “That was totally out of line.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes, I suppose it was. I think it’s your turn to pay a forfeit, Mac.”

  He tensed. “What did you have in mind?”

  She reached out, and for a moment he thought she was going to lay her hand on his chest and give him another shove. Instead, she grasped a nearby pitchfork and held it out to him. “You get to finish what I started. I’m going to get another shower and wash off all this itchy straw.”

  “Hey! That’s not fair,” he protested.

  But she had already turned and stalked away.

  “You and your bright ideas,” Mac muttered to himself as he pitched manure into the wheelbarrow. “What were you thinking? Maybe you could throw straw around when you were kids and it was funny, but there was nothing funny about what almost happened in that haystack. What if you’d kissed her lips? How would you have felt when she got upset?

  How do you know she’d have been upset?

  Mac mused over that question for the next hour as he finished cleaning stalls. Actually, Jewel had seemed more upset that he hadn’t kissed her lips. Could she have feelings for him that weren’t merely friendly?

  Don’t even think about it, Macready. The woman’s off-limits. She’s your friend, and she needs your friendship. Concentrate on somebody else’s needs for a change and forget what you want.

  Mac knew why he was having all these lurid thoughts about Jewel. He probably would be having such thoughts about any woman he came in close contact with at this stage in his life. It didn’t help that Jewel turned him on so hard and fast.

  Get over it, Mac.

  “I intend to,” Mac muttered as he set the pitchfork back where it belonged and headed for the house. “Jewel is my friend. And that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

  AT THE END OF TWO WEEKS MAC was walking the mile to the canyon without the aid of a cane and doing it in seven minutes flat. Jewel had difficulty keeping up with him when he broke into a jog. His leg was getting better; hers never would. She could picture him moving away from her, going on with his life, leaving her behind. She was going to miss him. She was going to miss playing with him.

  The scene in the barn hadn’t been repeated. Nor had Mac teased her or taunted her or done any of the playful things he might have done when they were teenagers. He had become a serious grown-up over the past two weeks. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed him to play with her. To her surprise, she hadn’t been intimidated or frightened by him in the barn. Not even when she had thought he might kiss her.

  She had wanted that kiss, she realized, and been sorely disappointed when he kissed her forehead instead. Then she’d realized he had been carried away by their physical closeness, and when he’d realized it was her—his old friend, Jewel—he had backed off. He liked her, but not that way. They were just friends.

  It should have been enough. But lately, Jewel was realizing she wanted more. She was going to have to control those feelings, or she would ruin everything. Mac would be leaving soon enough. She didn’t want to drive him away by asking for things from him he wasn’t willing to give.

  “Hey,” she called ahead to him. “How about taking a break at the bottom of the canyon.”

  “You got it.” He dropped onto the warm, sandy ground with his back against the stone wall that bore the primitive Native American drawings and sifted the soil through his fingers. She sank down across from him, leaning back on her palms, her legs in front of her.

  “You’ll be running full out by this time next week,” she said.

  “I expect so.”

  “I won’t be coming with you then.”

  “Why not?”

  She sat up and rubbed at the sore muscles in her thigh. “I can’t keep up with you, Mac.” In more ways than one. He would be going places, while she stayed behind.

  Mac dusted off his hands on his shorts, scooted around to her side and, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, began to massage her thigh. She hadn’t let a man touch her like that since she had broken her engagement. Chill bumps rose on her skin at the feel of Mac’s callused fingers on her flesh. It felt amazingly good. It dawned on her that she didn’t feel the least bit afraid. But then, this was Mac. He would never hurt her.

  The past two weeks of waiting for Mac to repeat his behavior in the barn had been wonderful and horrible. She loved being with Mac. And she dreaded it. Since the night he had come home early from Evelyn Latham’s house, he had remained an avuncular friend. He had been a tremendous help planning activities for the children. He had made her laugh often. But with the exception of that brief, unfulfilled promise in the barn, there was nothing the least bit sexual in his behavior toward her.

  She was unsure of what her feelings were for Mac, but there was no doubting her profound physical reaction to his touch. It was difficult not to look at him as a virile, attractive man, rather than merely as a friend. Even now, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

  The Texas sun had turned him a warm bronze, but a white strip of flesh showed around the waist of his running shorts, confirming the hidden skin was lighter. She caught herself wondering what he would look like without the shorts.

  “How does that feel?” he asked as he massaged her thigh. “Better?”

  She nodded because she couldn’t speak. It feels wonderful. She wanted his hands to move higher, between her legs. As though she had willed it, his fingertips moved upward on her thigh. She let him keep up the massage, because it felt good. Then stopped him because it felt too good.

  “Wait.” She gripped his wrist with her hand, afraid that he would read her mind and realize that the last thing she wanted him to do was stop.

  “If you exercised more, maybe your limp wouldn’t be so bad,” he said.

  She brushed his hand away from where it lingered on her flesh. “One leg is slightly shorter than the other, Mac. That isn’t going to change with exercise.”

  “It might with surgery. They can do remarkable things these days. Have you thought about—”

  “What’s going on here, Mac?” she interrupted. “You never said a word to me in the past about my limp. You always told me to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t exist, that it didn’t keep me from being who I am. What’s changed?”

  Mac backed up against the wall again. His gaze was concentrated on the sand he began once more sifting through his fingers.

  “Mac?” she persisted. “Answer me.”

  He looked up at her, his eyes searching her face. “How can you stand it—not being able to run?”

  She shrugged. “I manage.”

  “I’d hate it if something like that happened to me.”

  “Something like that has happened to you.”

  He shook his head. “Uh-uh. I’m temporarily out of commission. I’m going to be as good as new.”

  Did he really believe that? Jewel wondered. Yes, he had made astonishing progress in two weeks, but even she could see the effort it had taken. One look at his leg—at the scar tissue on his leg—suggested there was never going to be as much muscle to work with as there had been in the past. “What if you can never run again like you used to, Mac? What if you can’t get back to where you were?”

  “I will.”

  “What if you can’t?”

  “I’ll be playing again in the fall. Count on it.”

  “You’re purposely avoiding my question. What if you can’t?”

  He rose, but it took obvious effort to do so without the cane. She said nothing while he accomplished the feat—a minor miracle
considering the condition he’d been in two weeks ago.

  “Let’s go,” he said gruffly, reaching down to help her to her feet.

  She shoved his hand out of the way. “I’m not a cripple, either, Mac,” she said. “I can manage on my own.”

  “Damn it, Jewel! What do you want from me?”

  “Honesty,” she said, rising and standing toe to toe with him, her eyes focused on his. “You never used to lie to me, Mac. Or to yourself.”

  “What is it you want to hear me say? I won’t quit playing football! It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

  “You wanted to be a paleontologist.”

  “That’s what I said. But inside—” he thumped his bare chest with his fist “—all I ever dreamed about, all I ever wanted to do was run like the wind and catch footballs. It was just so impossible for so long, I never let myself hope for it too much. But I made it happen. And I’m not going to give it up!”

  Jewel felt her heart skip a beat. She hadn’t known. She hadn’t realized. If what Mac said was true, then he was facing a much greater crisis than she had imagined.

  “Avoiding reality isn’t going to make it go away, Mac,” she said gently. “You have to face your demons.”

  “Like you have?” Mac retorted.

  Jewel’s face blanched. She turned her back on him and headed up the trail toward the mouth of the canyon.

  “Jewel, wait,” Mac said as he hurried after her. He grabbed her arm to stop her. “If you’re going to insist on honesty from me, how about a little from you?”

  “What is it you want to know? You know everything,” she said bitterly. “You’re the only one who does!”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “You never told anyone else? What about your fiancé?”

  She shook her head violently.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I couldn’t tell Jerry. I just couldn’t!”

  In days gone by he would have put an arm around her to offer her comfort. But things had changed somehow in the two weeks since they had met again. His eyes offered emotional support, instead. “God, Jewel. That’s a heavy burden to be carrying around all by yourself.”

  “I’m managing all right.”

  “What happened to Jerry What’s-his-name? Why did you call off the wedding?”

  “I couldn’t…I wasn’t able…I could never…”

  She saw the dawning comprehension in his eyes. “I don’t want or need your pity!” She tried to run from him in awkward, hobbling strides, but he quickly caught up to her and pulled her into his arms.

  “Don’t run away,” he said, his arms closing tightly around her. “It doesn’t matter, Jewel. It’ll get better with time.”

  She made a keening sound in her throat. “It’s been six years. I can’t forget what happened, Mac. I can’t get it out of my head. Jerry was so patient, but when he tried to make love to me, I couldn’t let him do it. I couldn’t!” Her throat ached. A hot tear spilled onto her cheek and a sob broke free.

  She grasped Mac tight around the waist and pressed her face against his bare chest, sobbing as she never had on the day she had been attacked or at any time since then. She had been too numb with shock to cry six years ago. And she had been too full of guilt when she broke up with Jerry to allow herself the release of tears.

  “Shh. Shh,” Mac crooned as he rocked her in his arms. “It’s all right. It doesn’t matter. Everything will be all right.”

  She felt his lips against her hair, soothing, comforting, and then his hands on either side of her face as he raised it to kiss her tear-wet eyelids. He kissed her nose and her cheeks and finally her mouth. His lips were firm, yet gentle, against her own. She yielded to the insistent pressure of his mouth, her lips soft and damp beneath his. He kissed her again, his lips brushing across hers and sending a surprising frisson of desire skittering down her spine. Oh, Mac…

  She pressed her lips back against his and heard a sharp intake of breath. She froze, then stepped back and stared up at him in confusion.

  He opened his mouth to speak and shut it again, obviously upset and looking for a way to explain what had happened between them. She wondered if he had felt it, too, the wondrous stirring inside, the need to merge into one another. What if he did? Oh, God. It would ruin everything. She couldn’t…and he would never…She took another step back from him.

  “Wait, Jewel. Don’t go,” he said, reaching out a hand to her. “We have to talk about this.”

  “What is there to say?”

  He took a step closer, and it took all her willpower not to run from him. She felt an equally driving need to press herself against him, which she resisted just as fiercely.

  “I don’t want what just happened to spoil things between us,” he said, his voice anguished. “I could see you needed comfort, and I…I got a little carried away.”

  “All right, Mac. If that’s the way you want it.” She would ruin everything if she pressed for more. He obviously wanted things to stay the same between them. He wanted them to be friends. That was probably for the best. What if she tried loving him and failed, as she had with Jerry? She would lose everything. She couldn’t bear that.

  “What’s wrong, Jewel?”

  She mentally and physically squared her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have fallen apart like that. I’ve spent a lot of time in counseling putting what happened six years ago behind me.”

  “Have you?”

  “I’m as over it as I’m ever going to get,” she conceded with a rueful twist of her mouth. “It doesn’t matter, Mac, really. I have the kids at camp. I have friends. I have a full life.”

  “Without a man in it,” he said flatly. “Or children.”

  She arched a brow. “Who says a woman needs a man in her life? And there are lots of children at Camp LittleHawk who need me.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “You win. I’m not going to argue the point.”

  Jewel released a breath that became a sigh, glad the subject was closed. “We’d better get back to the house.”

  He looked as though he wanted to continue the discussion, but she knew that wouldn’t help the situation. She decided levity was what was needed. “I hope you saved some energy, because I know for a fact Colt will be waiting for you when you get back to the house.”

  Mac groaned. “I forgot. He’s going to throw me some passes.”

  “I can always send him away.”

  “I suppose I can catch a few passes and keep him happy.”

  “And keep who happy?”

  Mac grinned. “So I’m looking forward to it. Think what that’ll mean to you.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. If Mac was up to catching passes, it meant he was getting well. If he was getting well, it meant he would be leaving soon. She wanted to hear him say it. Maybe then she could stop fantasizing about him. “What will it mean to me?” she asked.

  Twin dimples appeared in his cheeks. “You get the shower first.”

  Jewel laughed. It beat the heck out of crying.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IF THERE WAS ONE THING COLT WHITELAW wanted more than he wanted to fly jets someday, it was to have Jennifer Wright look at him the way she looked at his best friend, Huckleberry Duncan. Jenny didn’t even care that Huck had a stupid name. When Huck was around, Jenny wouldn’t have noticed if Colt dropped dead at her feet. She only had eyes for Huck.

  Which meant Colt got to spend a lot of time watching her when she wasn’t looking. Jenny wasn’t what most guys would have called pretty. She was short and skinny, her nose was too long and her teeth were slightly crooked. But she had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. Jenny’s eyes were about the bluest blue eyes could get.

  It wasn’t just the color of them that he found attractive. When he looked into Jenny’s eyes he saw the pledge of warmth, the promise of humor and depths of wisdom far beyond what a fourteen-year-old girl ought to possess.

  Jenny might be the same age as him and Huck, but it seemed she had grown up faster—i
n more ways than one. For a couple of years she’d been taller than Huck. This past year Huck had caught up and passed her. Colt had always been taller than Jenny. Not that she’d noticed.

  This past year something else had happened to Jenny. She had started becoming a woman. Colt felt like walloping Huck when Huck kidded her about the bumps she was sprouting up front, but when she bent over laughing and her shirt fell away, he had sneaked a peek at them. They were pure white and pink-tipped. He had turned away pretty quick because the whole time he was looking, he couldn’t seem to breathe.

  His body did strange things these days whenever she was around. His stomach turned upside down and his heart started to race and his body embarrassed him by doing other things that were still pretty new and felt amazingly good and grown-up. He had it bad for Jenny Wright. Not that he’d ever let her or Huck know about it. Because Huck felt about Jenny the way Jenny felt about Huck. It was true love both ways. When they got old enough, Colt figured they’d marry for sure.

  He kept his feelings to himself. He liked Huck too much to give him up as a friend. And it would have killed him to stop seeing Jenny. Even if she was always going to be Huck’s girl.

  “Hey, Colt. I thought you were going to throw me some passes,” Huck said, giving him a friendly chuck on the shoulder.

  Colt watched as Jenny climbed up onto the top rail of the corral near the new counselors’ cottages and shoved her long blond ponytail back over her shoulder. “You gonna be all right up there?” he asked.

  She laughed. “I’m not one of your mom’s campers, Colt. I’m healthy as a horse. I’ll be fine.”

  Colt couldn’t help it if he worried about her. He didn’t want her to fall and get hurt. Not that she appreciated his concern. He turned the football in his hands, finding the laces and placing his hands where he knew they needed to be.

  “Go long!” he shouted to Huck, who had already started to run over the uneven terrain, which was dotted with clumps of buffalo grass and an occasional prickly pear cactus.