Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach Read online

  To Callen’s amazement and delight, her brother, Falcon, and his wife, Mara, ignored her warnings against company. They had driven to Hawk’s Way from Falcon’s ranch in Dallas for the Whitelaws’ annual Labor Day picnic, and refused to leave without seeing Callen and Sam. They brought along Charlie One Horse, the ancient, part-Comanche housekeeper who had helped raise two generations of Whitelaws.

  “Charlie!” Callen cried as she grabbed him by his gray braids and pulled him close for a hug. “I’m so glad you came to visit!”

  She brought them all into the bedroom where Sam was propped up and paging through a stock magazine.

  “Sam, I don’t know if you’ve ever met Charlie One Horse. He’s taken care of me since I was in diapers.”

  Sam shook hands and said, “Glad to meet you.”

  Callen was so excited, she barely gave them time to greet each other before she introduced her brother and his wife. “You know Falcon,” she said, “and this is Mara, his wife.”

  “We’ve met,” Sam said with a smile.

  “You have?”

  “Years ago,” Sam said. “It’s nice to see you again, Falcon. I’m sorry I can’t get up, Mara. We weren’t family the last time we met, so I didn’t get a chance to hug you then. And now I’m stuck here in bed.”

  “I can fix that,” Mara said with a twinkle in her eye. She leaned over and gave Sam a quick kiss on the cheek. She laughed at the possessive-jealous-chagrined look on Callen’s face when she had finished.

  “We brought some food from the picnic, since you couldn’t come,” Charlie One Horse said. He began to arrange a huge spread of food on a tray that he set in front of Sam on the bed.

  “We came to celebrate the day with you,” Mara said, “since you couldn’t come to us.”

  “Callen and I will go get the drinks,” Falcon said as he dragged her toward the kitchen. Once they were there, he turned to her and said, “What the hell’s going on, Callen? Mom and Dad said they haven’t seen hide nor hair of you since you got married. I don’t think they believe Sam’s really hurt.”

  “As you can see,” Callen replied in an icy voice, “he is.”

  “That doesn’t explain why the two of you haven’t been to Hawk’s Way to visit since you got married.”

  “You must have heard some of the awful things Daddy and Zach had to say about Sam before the wedding.”

  “So?”

  “So, in time, when things cool off, we’ll go visit.”

  “Why can’t you go now, by yourself?” Falcon demanded.

  “Because I won’t go where my husband isn’t welcome! What if Mom and Daddy hadn’t liked Mara? Or didn’t want to be bothered with Susannah, because she was sick with leukemia? How would you have felt?”

  Susannah was Falcon’s stepdaughter, Mara’s daughter from a previous marriage. Her leukemia had been in remission for four years now. Another year and she would be home free.

  Falcon grimaced. “I see what you mean.”

  “Tell Mom and Daddy you saw me, and I’m fine. And tell them Sam really does have broken ribs.”

  Charlie One Horse, her brother, and his wife didn’t stay long, but Callen was glad they had come.

  After they were gone, however, a wave of homesickness washed over her. She missed her parents. This separation was ridiculous. She became more determined than ever to make peace between her husband and her family.

  Sam continued to be an irascible patient, but Callen could see he enjoyed being taken care of even though he grumbled about it. She knew because of the way his eyes lingered on her face as she sat beside him brushing a stray hank of hair from his forehead, the way he laid his hand gently over hers as she set the dinner tray before him, the way he pulled her down to kiss her lips, sending her pulse soaring as he lazily helped himself to deep, probing kisses.

  Callen only managed to keep Sam confined to bed for nine days, but during that time she learned a great deal about needing and wanting and expectation. Because, although there was comfort to be found sleeping close to his warmth, and joy in his tender kisses, both of them knew it couldn’t go beyond that.

  Callen had been surprised at the strength of her unrequited desire. She had never realized how much she counted on the pleasure of making love with her husband at night. She had refused to let Sam exert himself until Dr. Stephens’s prescribed two weeks were up, but she caught herself dreaming about the day they could resume their lovemaking.

  Callen had decided to celebrate the occasion of Sam’s recovery with a housewarming party. She hadn’t forgotten Zach’s accusation: Sam has no friends. You’ll be all alone. The truth was, in the months since she and Sam had gotten married, not a single neighbor had come to call. Partly, Callen assumed, it was because their nuptials had been private, and they had sent no announcements. People didn’t intrude on their neighbors in the West without some indication that the visit was welcome. Callen was sure that if she had given even a hint of wanting company, she would have had it.

  This was confirmed when Callen began issuing invitations for the housewarming party. She discovered Sam was admired and liked by his neighbors. They had simply respected his wish to be left alone. If Sam didn’t have close friends, it wasn’t because his neighbors weren’t willing; it was because Sam himself had discouraged the contact.

  Callen was hoping the party would be the first of many, and that she and Sam would meet other young couples with similar interests who would become their friends. She hadn’t counted on Sam’s strenuous objection to any kind of gathering whatsoever.

  “You’ve done what?” he exploded. “Why the hell would you do such a thing without asking me first?”

  “First of all, because I didn’t think you’d mind. And secondly, because I need friends. It wouldn’t hurt if you had a few, as well,” she added bluntly.

  Sam glowered. “I don’t need anybody.”

  “Of course not,” she said with a sardonic twist of her mouth. “However, I would like to point out that if you’d had any kind of relationship at all with your neighbors you could have called on them to help out when you got hurt.”

  “I don’t want to owe anybody anything.”

  “That’s clear enough,” Callen snapped back. “The truth is, we all need other people, Sam. Even you.”

  “I won’t be at any party you decide to give.”

  “Fine. The party’s off.”

  Callen headed toward the parlor from the bedroom in a huff. She didn’t want Sam to see how shocked and hurt she was by his refusal. She had known what she was getting into when she married Sam. Her father and brother had both warned her what kind of man he was. A loner. A man without friends. She really hadn’t considered what that might mean. She had seen in Sam only what she wanted to see. In love like she was, she truly hadn’t minded the thought of just the two of them alone on the Double L.

  Callen hadn’t gone two steps before Sam caught her arm and swung her back around into his embrace. She immediately struggled for freedom, shoving against his shoulders and chest.

  “Keep that up, and you’re going to send me back to bed for another two weeks,” he said with a groan of pain.

  She stood frozen, her expression stricken. “What do you want from me, Sam?”

  “I want you to listen while I apologize,” he said in a quiet voice. He tipped her chin up with his forefinger and said, “Sometimes I can be a little unreasonable.”

  Callen arched a disbelieving brow. “You? Unreasonable?”

  Sam chuckled as his arms tightened slightly around Callen. He hated the idea of exposing himself to all those people. He avoided crowds because he never showed well in them. But when he saw how disappointed Callen was, he conceded that enduring a housewarming party was little enough to give her in return for all she had done for him.

  “We’ll give the party,” he said. “Invite anyone you want.”

  “Even my mother and father?”

  Sam thought about refusing but realized there were ways to keep Garth fro
m attending even if Callen issued an invitation. “Sure,” he said. “Invite the whole family.”

  Callen’s eyes welled. “Thank you, Sam. I will.”

  He fought off the stab of guilt clawing at his insides. The only way he could keep focused on his revenge was to remember how his father had looked when he had found him. Thankfully, Callen’s voice jerked him from those grim thoughts back to the present.

  “Maybe Falcon and Mara could drive over from Dallas again and bring Susannah and the baby.”

  “It would be nice to see them again,” Sam said softly.

  “Thank you, Sam,” Callen replied with a shy smile. “I know you don’t care much for company. I appreciate your willingness to give this a try.”

  Fortunately she chose that moment to kiss him, or Sam might have spoiled everything by admitting how little he was looking forward to the shindig his wife was planning.

  Since it had been two weeks since Sam’s injury, and they were in the bedroom, both Sam and Callen let themselves enjoy kissing and holding each other, knowing that their desires could finally be fulfilled.

  It was amazing, Sam thought, how much he had missed those carnal sounds Callen made in her throat. He loved how she arched toward him, how she gave that little sigh as he sank himself into her to the hilt. He had forgotten the feel of her fingernails gripping his buttocks and the way her teeth nipped at his shoulder when she came.

  Callen was astonished at how easily Sam could arouse her. How he knew just where and how to touch her so that she felt cherished and appreciated. She loved the way he kept his own desire leashed until she was satisfied and gloried in the unrestrained passion that caught him unawares so he cried out her name at the moment of climax. She lay beside him, her body heaving, feeling sated and happy.

  Her hand drifted lightly across Sam’s chest, her fingertips playing in the dark curls. “Are you all right?” she asked in a lazy voice.

  “Mmm, hmm.”

  “I take that to mean you’re fine,” she said, feeling the smile grow on her face. She reached up a hand to trace Sam’s lips. He was smiling, too.

  “I love you, Sam.”

  Callen waited, but Sam didn’t say the words back. She had her hands on his lips, so she felt the smile disappear, felt the lips flatten.

  “Sam?”

  Sam knew the smart thing to do was say the words, even if he didn’t mean them. Somehow, he couldn’t do it. Callen deserved better. He wasn’t going to lie to her any more than he already had. She had to know he admired her, that he was grateful for everything she had done to make his house a home, that he loved making love to her. Wasn’t that enough without the words?

  He kissed the fingertips she held against his lips, and when she would have withdrawn, he reached out to catch her hand and hold it there. “You’re a very special woman, Callen,” he murmured against her fingertips. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”

  It was the truth, but so much less than he knew she wanted to hear. He knew it was enough when he felt her relax against him. He ignored the voice that told him he needed her arms around him at night. He was a man who had never needed anyone.

  Callen tried to tell herself it didn’t matter that in four months of marriage Sam had never said “I love you.” He had shown he cared in a dozen different ways, not the least of which was making love to her every night. They had their whole lives in front of them. She knew in her heart that someday the words would come.

  She moved forward with her plans for a lavish housewarming party, inviting all their neighbors and her entire family. Mara and Falcon promised to come again and bring the baby, whose name was Cody, and Susannah. Both Zach and her parents had also agreed to be there.

  When Sam heard that Callen’s parents had accepted their invitation, he made a point of seeking Garth out at the Stanton Hotel Café.

  He walked up to the breakfast bar and said to Garth, “I want to talk to you. Privately.”

  Garth rose and the two men walked into one of the hotel meeting rooms that was empty.

  “I got the invitation to your housewarming,” Garth said when they were alone. “My wife and I are planning to attend.”

  Sam shook his head. “You’re not welcome in my home.” For the first time Sam saw pain flash across his father-in-law’s features. He knew he ought to be gloating, but he found there was nothing to be proud of in what he was doing. He wasn’t finding the satisfaction he had yearned for when he had set out upon this course. He forced himself to focus on the image of his father in death. That gruesome portrait produced the anger he needed to proceed with his vengeance.

  “If you show up at my door,” Sam threatened, “I’ll make a scene the likes of which this county has never seen. I’ll make damn sure everyone knows your part in E.J.’s death.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Garth said.

  “Try me.”

  “I want to see my daughter.”

  “I want my father back.”

  The air sparked with electricity as the two men measured one another. At last Sam said in a guttural voice, “We don’t always get what we want. Do we, Garth?”

  Garth hadn’t believed Sam could do it, that he could so effectively cut him off from contact with his daughter. But Callen had been a married woman for nearly four months, and he hadn’t once seen or spoken to her. That seemed impossible to him, given the fact all he had to do was pick up the phone to talk to her or drive a few miles to be at her front door. But it was Callen herself who had asked both her parents to keep their distance. Garth had respected his daughter’s wishes, never dreaming that so much time could go by without any contact between them.

  He missed her. He wanted to see her, to speak to her, to reassure himself that she was as happy as Candy said she was from their conversations on the phone. “What if I come anyway?”

  “If you insist on trying to get your daughter back, I’ll give her back. In fact, I’ll throw her out.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” Sam stared at Garth with eyes that looked totally merciless, with features that were as hard and unyielding as granite.

  Garth knew from calls Callen had made to her mother that she was more in love with Sam now than she had been when they married. It would break his daughter’s heart if Sam rejected her now. He couldn’t do anything that might jeopardize his daughter’s happiness. But he wondered how Callen could love this misguided and vengeful young man.

  Much as Garth wanted to force a confrontation, he felt that waiting Sam out was a better alternative. Time was on his side. The chances of him running into his daughter in town or at church, or catching her on the phone, were very good. And after all, his ranch and Sam’s bordered each other. There was always the possibility he would run into Callen on the range.

  “You win,” he said to Sam at last. “I’ll find a reason to stay home from the party. I assume you have no objection if my wife attends?”

  “None at all.”

  “If we’re done, my coffee’s getting cold.” Garth left Sam standing alone in the empty room.

  Sam wondered why he didn’t feel more triumphant. He had won. He was keeping Callen and her father apart. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had wounded his adversary. There had been suffering visible on Garth Whitelaw’s face. He knew the expression because he had worn it himself. But he felt no satisfaction in his accomplishment.

  Sam knew what had marred his victory. It was the thought of the disappointment he would see on Callen’s face when she realized her father wasn’t coming. It was the knowledge of how unhappy he would be making his wife while he punished her father.

  For a moment, a brief, flickering instant of time, he considered giving up his revenge. He considered forgiving Garth Whitelaw for his daughter’s sake. He considered letting go of the past and grabbing for a future with Callen.

  Then he saw his father in his mind’s eye, lying in a pool of blood. And remembered the vow he had made.

  “I promised you vengeance,
Dad. And it’s vengeance you’ll have.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  CALLEN HAD SEVERAL PROJECTS SHE wanted to accomplish before the housewarming party. First and foremost, she wanted to investigate further into whether Sam had dyslexia. A friend who was an elementary schoolteacher referred her to a woman who worked with dyslexic children. The specialist asked Callen to get a sample of Sam’s writing for her.

  Callen asked Sam to make up a list of his favorite foods. He was reluctant to write them down for her at first, but she insisted she was just too tired to write herself. She did her best to look weary when he eyed her suspiciously. He laboriously wrote a list, which she was surprised to see included a couple of dishes she had made for him since their marriage. The spelling was atrocious, and some of the words didn’t make any sense at all. Callen was careful to keep her expression neutral when she took the list from him.

  She met with the specialist and handed over Sam’s list. “Is it dyslexia?” she asked anxiously.

  The specialist, Mrs. Moran, smiled reassuringly. “It looks like a classic case. See? Some of the words are backward. For instance, can is nac. Are you sure someone hasn’t told him before that he’s dyslexic?”

  Callen shook her head. “I guess when he couldn’t read, the teachers gave up on him. And knowing Sam, he would have hidden the problem as best he could. Is there something that can be done?”

  “Oh, yes. Some very bright people have been dyslexic and performed exceptionally well. Einstein, for example. Sam can be taught to recognize words for what they are, even backward. But it takes practice. Do you think he would be willing to work with me?”

  Callen smiled ruefully. “The question is whether you’d be willing to work with Sam.”

  “I’ve got Monday and Wednesday evenings open. I can come to your house, or Sam can meet me at the school. Some of the local service clubs have gotten together to sponsor a fund so my services are free to whoever needs them.”