Eagle’s Song (26 page)

Hawk waited with a pounding heart, as did the attorneys for the law firm for which he worked, who to his relief continued to back him in this matter. Jeremy and Mary were here, as were Iris and Raphael, Joshua and LeeAnn. LeeAnn’s son Matthew was with them, twenty-one now, home from college in Illinois. Hawk knew his grandmother would dearly love to be here, if it were not that the winter weather compelled her to stay at the ranch. Still, she was with him in spirit, as was his grandfather Zeke. This city held some bad memories for his grandparents, and a victory today would in a
sense be a victory for them also, their grandson going against Denver’s most powerful and winning!

Power. That was what his father had told him he could attain with his education, and the man was right. He had handled this case like a true warrior. This was the new way of fighting battles his father had told him about, and there was not one person he wanted here more than Wolf’s Blood. But that could not be.

He moved through the general summary statements, listening first to the attorney for the City, then once more presenting his own plea. Through it all he kept glancing at Arianne whenever he referred to her plight, realizing he loved her but not so sure anymore how she felt about him. They had grown close throughout this lawsuit, but she seemed still to be lost in mourning and was giving most of her attention to her daughter. She was rather aloof and distant to him most of the time, in spite of being grateful for what he was doing. The initial warmth and desire he’d sensed when first they’d seen each other again, when he’d come to her house to talk about suing the city, did not seem to be there now, and he was puzzled.

He sat down, and the courtroom quieted as people in the back and in the balcony above strained to hear Judge Henry Worth speak.

“I have weighed this case heavily for many weeks,” the man finally said, glancing at Hawk over the top of his spectacles, then at the opposing counsel. “Both sides have presented their case well, which only makes more of a dilemma for the judge.”

A few people snickered, and the city attorney grinned, a smug look on his face. “I agree that no city can be responsible for every crime committed within its boundaries.”

Hawk’s hopes began to sink.

“However …”

The city attorney lost his smile, and Hawk’s hopes rose.

“In this situation, I have come to the conclusion that the City of Denver has too long put off facing its problems with jobless and homeless citizens. It could take a lesson from programs already in place in New York, Chicago and other Eastern cities, and it could also learn a lesson from some of the women of this city who have taken it upon themselves to do something for the poor.”

Hawk wished his grandmother were present to hear the judge’s words. The man had obviously done his homework, studying programs in other cities, learning what had already been done in Denver.

“Considering how vigorously the City has fought this case, it only tells me that if they should win it, they will simply continue to put off programs for the poor and will continue trying to ride their unwanted citizens out of town with a suit of clothes and a ticket to nowhere. Such tactics must be stopped, and the only way to do that is to begin making the City pay for its failure to give as much attention to such matters as it gives to new water and sewer projects. I therefore have decided in favor of Mrs. Ralston in the amount of thirty thousand dollars, to be deposited in a bank of Mrs. Ralston’s choice no later than seven days from today. The City will also be responsible for attorney’s fees.” He banged his gavel. “Case closed!”

Cheers went up from the indigents seated at the back of the room. They jumped up and down, hugging each other, and instantly Joshua and Jeremy and LeeAnn and Hawk’s other relatives who were present were hugging him and shaking his hand. Hawk felt as though he were in a daze, hardly realizing whose hand he was shaking, who was congratulating him next. His fellow attorneys beamed, slapping him on the back. Even those in the courtroom from Denver’s upper
class cheered, wanting better laws and programs to protect their persons and property. Joshua scribbled frantically in his notebook, excusing himself quickly to go and get the story ready for the front page of the next day’s
Rocky Mountain News
.

“You’ve got the charm, Hawk Monroe, to get yourself into Congress!” Jeremy was telling him. “You just plain outtalked your opponents!”

Through it all Hawk could think only of his father and of the grandfather he barely remembered. If only they could be here! No one here understood the real reason this victory meant so much. He’d mastered the game of law, and now he could use it to be like the warriors his father and grandfather had been—in a new way—to help the Sioux and Cheyenne. Fame and fortune and city life were not for him, not ultimately. He knew now he could use his knowledge at the U.S. Supreme Court level to fight for Indian rights. It was time to begin thinking about using his services as an attorney for Indian tribes. The best way to do that was to move to one of the Sioux reservations or perhaps to Indian Territory. It would mean a great cut in pay compared to working for a Denver law firm, but he would be pursuing his ultimate goal.

No one among those who surrounded him now truly understood what he wanted to do with his education. But Wolf’s Blood would understand. He had to talk to his father again before he made his final decision. In the meantime, he would bask in victory. He stood still for a picture. The powder flashed, then Arianne was hugging him, thanking him.

Arianne. That was another matter that had to be settled. He’d left it alone while the case was tried, not wanting to become personally involved with his client; but his heart already was hers. Now they were free to talk about such things. He escorted her out of the courtroom,
followed by a throng of people who continued to congratulate him and ask questions. Jeremy called for a public carriage for Arianne, who wanted only to go home to her little girl, to get away from the crowd. One of those surrounding her rudely asked if there was something more between her and her attorney than a lawsuit.

“Of course not!” she answered, a little too quickly, Hawk thought. He helped her into the carriage, and she looked at him with tears in her eyes. “What can I say, Hawk? How can I ever thank you?”

“My thanks is winning,” he answered. “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll talk about where you want the money deposited. We have other things to talk about, too.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Their eyes held in mutual understanding, and hers seemed to be telling him she was sorry about something, but there was no time to discuss that. The driver whisked her away, shouting at people to get out of the way, and Hawk was left to answer hundreds of questions. Jeremy managed to get his own carriage driver to maneuver through the crowd to the front of the courthouse, and he and Hawk, LeeAnn and Mary climbed inside. Matthew had hurried off to the newspaper office with Joshua.

In the enclosed carriage, Hawk leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply with relief as the driver managed to pull away from the crowd. “I didn’t even sign any final papers,” he told Jeremy.

“I’m sure the judge understands. It will all be there for you later. Some of the other men in your law firm will see to that, I’m sure. Let’s just go home and celebrate.” He put out his hand. “You’re a hell of a lawyer, Hawk Monroe. Your father couldn’t have more reason
to be proud of his son. I’d love to see the look on his face when he hears about this.”

Hawk grinned, but his eyes teared. “So would I.”

Twenty-three

Arianne walked into the parlor to greet Hawk, holding out her hands to take hold of his. “I’m afraid I didn’t show enough gratitude yesterday,” she told him. “I was so shocked and overwhelmed, and all those people … I just wanted to get out of there.”

Hawk took her hands, squeezing them gently. “I know. So did I. I went back this morning and took care of the paperwork. I’ve brought a few things for you to sign, and I need to know where you want the money deposited.” She appeared radiant, relieved, free of doubt. Now she could survive on her own.

And she was beautiful in her burgundy-and-white-striped taffeta day dress, which she filled out with her nicely curved shape. Her light hair was drawn up at the sides, and her eyes seemed bluer, perhaps with happiness. What bothered Hawk was the strange, almost apologetic look that came into them when he asked where to deposit the money the city owed her. Again he felt the change in her attitude toward him, a very subtle change that had continued for several months. She pulled her hands away.

“Sit down, Hawk. We need to talk.”

He laid his hat and briefcase on a coffee table and settled himself on a rose-colored velvet loveseat, putting an arm across the back of it and facing her as she sat down beside him. He noticed her cheeks were
slightly crimson, and she suddenly looked ready to cry. “What is it, Arianne? You’ve seemed bothered by something for a long time now, something more than this lawsuit or even your husband’s death.”

She met his gaze. “We both know … what we feel is more than friendship, Hawk. Please stop me right now if I’m wrong so that I don’t make a fool of myself.”

He grinned. “I don’t need to stop you. I’ve been falling in love with you all these months.”

She closed her eyes and turned away as though in sudden pain. “It’s been the same for me, but I’ve been doing quite a bit of thinking.”

Hawk lost his smile. “Say it, Arianne.”

She sighed deeply, looking down at her lap and toying with one of the little embroidered flowers on the ruffled trim of the apron skirt. “I can’t begin to tell you what winning this settlement means to me. You risked your reputation as a lawyer on this case, and with your being part Indian, you had much more to prove than most. Well, you did it, and I’m happier for you than for me in many ways.” She met his eyes again. “I’ve sensed how you felt, and I’ve cared deeply for you since I was a young girl. Back then I would not have given a second thought to loving an Indian, even though my brother would have been against it. I still don’t really think there is anything wrong with it.”

Hawk began to feel some of the bitterness toward those who looked at him differently just because he was Indian. He’d managed to handle the hurt all through college, and in dealing with fellow attorneys when he came to Denver, most of whom had come to fully accept him. Still, he knew damn well none of his colleagues would allow their daughters to date him. There had been that Mexican girl, but nothing had come of it. After meeting Arianne again, he’d begun
to change his mind about not being able to love and marry a white woman. “If you don’t personally think there is anything wrong with it, then why are you suddenly so hesitant?”

Her eyes began to tear more, and she had to look away again. “Through all of this, I’ve heard remarks, been asked crude questions. Other women have given me what they consider sage advice; that I shouldn’t turn to the first man who comes along because of my loneliness, that I must be very careful about my heart at this time, things like that.”

Hawk’s anger was rising. “And that you shouldn’t stoop so low as to marry an Indian?” He stood up. He had to get away from her. He was too tempted to grab her and have his way with her, make her understand it didn’t matter what other people thought.

“Essentially, yes,” she answered. She looked up at him. “Hawk, please understand. I love you.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “But I have to think of my little Joanna. I don’t want her to grow up being teased about her mother. And when I think of what happened to your stepmother in Cheyenne, all the stories I’ve heard about the things your own grandparents went through … When I hear some of the remarks people make, I just think it’s unfair of me to make my daughter suffer for the sake of my own happiness. And realizing the courage it takes to face the prejudice”—she looked away again—“I just don’t think I’m strong enough for it, Hawk. If Joanna should be hurt by all of it, I could never forgive myself, and I’d end up resenting you.” She shivered, crying quietly for a moment. “Then there is the problem of … our own children. They would have to go through all the trauma and confusion of wondering to which world they belong, who they should marry.” She looked at him again. “The same struggle
you
have always had! I
don’t want that for my children. I’d like to think I am strong enough for all of that, but I have to admit that I’m not. That’s why I think it’s best if I just leave Denver, go back East. Before they died, my parents had some very good friends back in Ohio. I know they would help me settle there. I have enough money now …”

The look on his face stabbed through her. “My God, Hawk, you must know how grateful I am for what you’ve done! How hard this is for me!”

His jaw flexed in repressed anger. He simply had not expected such attitudes from her. “I stuck my neck out on this one, Arianne! I even received threats from the Klan! I don’t doubt a few of our fine city councilmen
belong
to the Klan! I could have been murdered over this mess, but I stayed with it, for
you!
Not just because you damn well deserved the money, but because I
loved
you!”

She covered her face and turned away. “They threatened me, too,” she answered. “They hinted how hard life could be for me and Joanna if it was discovered there was more than business between me and my attorney.” Her shoulders shook in a sob. “I can’t live with that kind of prejudice, Hawk. Your family is … so strong. Somehow they manage to rise above the talk and ignore it. And the white women they marry … have to be very strong and sure.” She took a handkerchief from the sash tied at her waist and blew her nose. “I’m just not like that. When I first saw you again, I thought how easy it would be to love you as a woman, rather than in the childish way I once did. But the woman in me is so much wiser than that young girl. And this woman has a daughter of her own to think about. I just …” She threw back her head and took a deep breath. “Now that the hearing is over and we’ve won, I’ve decided it’s best I leave Denver and we go
on with our separate lives. I’m not just thinking about me, Hawk. I’m thinking about you. I love you enough to want what’s best for you. God knows you’ll have enough problems in life.”

She turned to face him, her cheeks streaked from salty tears. “You’ve told me many times your real dream is to go back to a reservation and act as an attorney for the Indians.” She shook her head. “I’ve lived on a reservation, Hawk, and I don’t want to go back to one. I don’t want Joanna to grow up on one; maybe fall in love with an Indian man and go through all the hurt and confusion of what to do about that love, as I have. I don’t want her to marry an Indian and have half-breed children. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t live that way. I want to live in places like this, where Joanna can meet men of her own color, where she’ll have the opportunity to blossom into an educated, refined young lady, where there are bricked streets and theaters and …”

She felt sickened by the hurt in his dark eyes, such handsome eyes, such an utterly beautiful man. She wanted him so she could hardly stand it, but she had to face reality. “You know you should marry Indian, Hawk. You know it in your heart. Your own father would tell you to marry Indian. You told me yourself that was how you wanted it. Someday you’ll be working on a reservation. You’ll need a wife who understands and can put up with that life. Only an Indian woman can do that, and only an Indian woman can truly understand the heart of an Indian man. I can never do that, Hawk. I could never be a proper wife for you.” She stepped closer. “I am so sorry, Hawk! Don’t think this doesn’t pain me. It’s the”—more tears came—“hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!”

She covered her face and wept again. Hawk just watched her, wanting to cry himself but too angry to
do it. He had taken too much for granted. Many times while growing up he’d been subtly rejected because of his Indian blood, but never had it been done so openly by someone for whom he truly cared.

“The hardest things
I’ve
ever done were face up to how I feel about you,” he answered, “then risk my neck suing the City of Denver on your behalf.” He turned and picked up his hat. “The papers on the table there are self-explanatory. Read and sign them. I will have someone else from my firm come and pick them up. You fill out where you want the money deposited, somewhere in Ohio, I suppose. I hope you find new happiness there, Arianne, and a
white
man to love and support you.”

“Hawk, don’t be this way!” She wiped at tears, facing him again. “Tell me you understand why I’m doing this. It’s because I love you. I love you enough to give you up!”

More sobs came. He ached for her, but he did not want to admit it. It was easier right now to hate her. The reasons his own father once went on the warpath suddenly became very clear to him. He thought about his stepmother, a bullet hole in her forehead. No, he wouldn’t want that to happen to Arianne just because she’d loved an Indian. She was right, and he damn well knew it; he also damn well hated her for it. Nothing had changed from the days of the Indian wars. They were simply fought a different way now. White was still white. Indian was still Indian. His own power lay not in the lance or the tomahawk or the gun. It lay in his education, in knowing how to use the white man’s law to get what the Indian wanted. But there was one thing neither the law nor his education could get for him, and she stood right here in front of his eyes.

“I understand,” he told her. “I understand many things more clearly now. But you should have told me
long ago, Arianne, when you first allowed others to make you so afraid. Did you think I would have dropped the lawsuit if you had revealed your decision? Did you fear you would lose your chance to win all that money?”

She stiffened. “I … I wasn’t sure.”

He closed his eyes, his hands clenching. “And so you led me on, waiting until it was all over, using me—”

“No, Hawk! Not in the way you think! I knew you had so much on your mind. I didn’t want to make it even more of a burden for you. And yes, I
did
want the money, but not for greed! I wanted it because I knew I had to leave Denver and start out on my own in someplace new. I’m doing this for
you
, Hawk, whether you want to believe that or not!”

He studied her, shaking his head. “I am sure you want to believe that, but it doesn’t matter. You’re right, in the long run. You
aren’t
strong enough to be married to a Monroe. And you
wouldn’t
make a good wife for me.” He put on his hat. “I hope you find happiness, Arianne.”

“I want the same for you. Please believe that. I’m just facing reality, Hawk. You have your own reality to face. You are an Indian, and that’s something to be proud of. Your father, your grandfather and your granduncle were warriors, part of a proud people. You yourself come from
two
Indian bloods, Cheyenne and Apache. That is your world. It is where you belong in your law career, and where you belong in a marriage. Your grandmother would understand what I am doing. She would say it’s a good decision. She knew she was strong enough to marry your grandfather; I know I am
not
strong enough to marry you. She faced her own reality, and I am facing mine, painful as it is. I never loved Edward as I loved you, and no man in my future will ever take your place in my heart.”

He drew in his breath, his lips set tight, an obvious
emotional struggle going on behind his dark eyes. He only nodded. “Good-bye, Arianne.” He turned and left. Arianne ran to the door, watched through the glass as he disappeared into a windswept snowfall.

“Good-bye, Hawk Monroe,” she whispered. She stood there weeping for several minutes, then forced back the tears and marched to the parlor. It was a few minutes before she was able to read the papers he’d left behind. Hawk’s signature was on most of them, his handwriting flowing and beautiful. She signed them all, then came to the form signifying where the money should be sent. She would have to wire the family friends in Cleveland first, find out their banking recommendations. The money would then be sent, and she would pack her things as quickly as possible and get out of Denver, away from all the ugliness she’d known here, away from a situation in which her courage did not match her love.

“Thirty thousand dollars,” she muttered. For the rest of her life she would have Hawk Monroe to thank for this. She hated hurting him, but she also knew she would end up hurting him much worse later on if she married him for all the wrong reasons. She simply could not be the wife he needed, and she would not subject Joanna to life on a reservation or to ridicule for having an Indian stepfather. That was the hell of it—he was so handsome, so intelligent and educated … but so Indian.

Spring, 1899
…

Carson Temple opened one of the double front doors to his stone mansion to see his daughter standing before him and holding a little boy perhaps one year old. The child beamed a bright smile, dimples showing in
his cheeks, his nearly black eyes sparkling innocently. Behind Georgeanne stood a tall, powerful-looking Zeke Brown, holding another boy who looked three or four years old. The child was as handsome as his father, his straight black hair hanging to his shoulders, his eyes lighter than the younger boy’s but still brown.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Temple asked, looking at Zeke.

Georgeanne marched inside, shoving her way past her father. “We came to see the house, decide what we’ll do with it. I never did like this place, Father. It’s much too big and drafty, never seemed homey to me. Perhaps I’ll make some kind of museum out of it—you know, have people come and see the kind of home the English used to come West and build, something like that. What do you think?”