Lone Wolf

“The lemons I smell.”

“It’s another one of those body mists,” she responded, rocking the swing a little, her voice as shy as her smile. “I bought the variety pack.”

Suddenly Hawk got a craving for lemon meringue pie. Well, hell, he thought, maybe he wanted more than friendship. Maybe he wanted to explore the man-woman thing happening between them and see how good it felt to kiss her.

Silent, they both watched Muddy toss a new toy around Jenny’s yard. At some point the dog had followed Hawk onto her property.

“He plays fetch,” Hawk said. “But he’s not consistent. Sometimes he’d rather eat the ball.”

She laughed, but the silence that followed became awkward. That man-woman thing was creeping in, and he sensed it made Jenny uncomfortable.

She was attracted to him, but she didn’t want to be, at least not in a physical sense, he thought. But why?

“So you’re originally from Utah?” he asked, realizing he knew little about her.

“Yes. Salt Lake City.”

“Do you still have family there?” he asked.

“No.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty. How old are you?”

“Thirty-three,” he responded, realizing getting Jenny to talk about herself wasn’t easy.

Well, one of them had to open up, he thought. “Do you still want to hear my side of the story?” he asked.

She turned to face him. “You mean about Archy and you and your mother?”

He nodded.

“Yes, I’d like that very much. I saw your mother’s picture. She was very beautiful.”

So are you, he wanted to say, still itching to touch her hair, to brush her bangs out of her eyes.

To kiss her.

When she blinked those stunning blue eyes, he cleared his throat.

“My mom worked at the Lone Star Country Club. That’s how she met Archy. She was a riding instructor. Of course, Archy didn’t need to learn to ride, but he was around the stables quite a bit.” Hawk paused, then explained further. “The Wainwrights and the Carsons used to own the horses at the club. And I suppose they still do. Have you met the Carsons?”

“Most of them. They’re the other family who established the club. I’ve heard there’s a feud between the Carsons and the Wainwrights.”

“Yeah, it’s been going on since 1927 or so.” And Hawk had been tempted to join the feud, to ally himself with the Carsons, to work on their ranch just to spite Archy. But he’d stayed away from both wealthy families. “Anyway, Archy and my mom had an affair. She knew he was married, but she’d been young and naive, just impressionable enough to believe he would leave his wife. Of course, he never had any intention of ending his marriage. When my mom told him she was pregnant, he refused to acknowledge that the child she carried was his.”

“What did Rain Dancer do?”

For a second Hawk only stared. He wasn’t aware that Jenny knew his mother’s name. “She left town and went to live with my grandmother in Oklahoma. We’re Chiricahua Apache. Most of the Chiricahua live on a reservation in New Mexico, but there is still a small number residing in the vicinity of Apache, Oklahoma.”

“So were you raised in Oklahoma? Did you come back to Mission Creek on your own?”

“No. My grandmother died when I was five, and Mom decided to return to Texas to introduce me to my father, to make another attempt to get Archy to acknowledge me.”

“She could have filed a paternity suit.”

“Yeah, she could have. But she was too proud to do that. Besides, this wasn’t about money. It was about honor. And love.”

Jenny smoothed a strand of her hair. She watched Hawk with a gentle expression, with compassion in her eyes. “Do you remember meeting Archy for the first time?”

“Yeah.” Hawk recalled it vividly. “He looked at me for the longest time. And for a moment I thought he was going to smile or ask me a question. Or shake my hand. But instead, he turned to my mom and said, ‘He’s not mine. Anyone can see that he’s not mine.”’

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Hawk blew out a tight breath. “When Archy walked away, my mother said, ‘He knows you’re his, and someday he’ll come forward and give you his heart.’ I wanted so badly to believe that.”

Muddy leaped up the porch steps and skidded onto the wood. Jenny leaned down to pick him up. As she resumed her seat, his dirty feet made marks on her clean white dress.

Content to be in her arms, the pup quit squirming and calmed down, settling into her lap. Hawk envied him the luxury, the warmth, the soft feminine touch.

“I can’t believe Archy did that to you,” she said, continuing their conversation. “He seems kinder than that.”

“I guess that’s what my mom thought, too.” But Archy had that effect on women, a charm they couldn’t seem to resist. Hawk knew better. “The one bright spot was that Archy’s wife left him when she found out about me. He didn’t get away with being a liar and a cheat. Of course, he blamed me for the destruction of his marriage, and so did his other children. Walking around with the Wainwright name isn’t easy, but I won’t give it up. My mom wanted me to have that name. In her eyes, it legitimized my birth.”

For a moment he thought about Archy’s recent challenge regarding his name. There was no point in mentioning that to Jenny, he supposed. He didn’t intend to hear from his dad again. “The Wainwrights are rich and powerful, so that makes people curious about me, too. But I’ve learned to deal with the gossip, with people like Mrs. Pritchett.”

Jenny stroked the dog. “Mrs. Pritchett said some awful things about you and your mother. The next time I see her, I’m going to tell her that she has no business spreading vicious rumors.”

“Thanks, but she won’t listen. She’s already formed an opinion of you now, too.” And that meant Jenny would become part of his world. “Being my friend isn’t going to be easy,” he said. “People will wonder about you. They might even make up stories about us. They’ll think I’m corrupting you.”

“I know,” she responded quietly.

Yes, he thought, she knew. But knowing might not be enough. If their relationship stirred up too much gossip, Jenny’s reputation could suffer.

Hawk hoped and prayed that he was worth the risk.

Four

A week later Jenny spent the morning at the Lone Star Country Club stables, wandering around the facility, hoping to feel some sort of connection to Hawk’s deceased mother. It seemed like an odd thing to do, but Jenny couldn’t help herself. She was curious about Rain Dancer, curious about the woman who’d given birth to Archy Wainwright’s illegitimate son.

Caught up in the moment, Jenny studied the breezeway barn, the fenced arena and the paths leading to South Texas riding trails. Spring bloomed in the air, carrying the scent of hay, horses and flowers.

Money bloomed in the air, too. The aura of wealth.

And Jenny stood in the center of it all, wondering about a woman who had worked there thirty-four years ago.

She couldn’t condone Rain Dancer’s affair with a married man, but she could picture her, young and naive, caught up in a world not her own.