Hawk's Haven (3 page)

* * * *

Hawk tried to think of something clever to break the tension. So far, every time he’d opened his mouth he’d managed to ram his foot inside. Why was he so defensive?  Her comments were neither condescending nor cruel. She’d made a clever observation of irony, and the fact that she noticed his boots, meant she’d been taking notice of him.

He knew he should apologize but he’d trouble admitting to himself that he might be wrong about her, let alone voice the words. "We're half way there.”

She looked toward him as if she expected a stinging punch line to follow his announcement.

"Would you like to stop and rest for a while?" he asked.

She shrugged indifferently. "Whatever you want."

Whatever he wanted. Now, there was an offer he would love to accept. She wasn't hiding anything under her peasant skirt and the oversized tee-shirt kept slipping off her shoulder.  Even if she wore a paper sack, he would remember every delicate curve.

His body began to react, hard and fast. He sucked in a large gulp of air and concentrated on his driving to distract his thoughts before he embarrassed himself.

"It's not that hard," Gillian said.

Hawk almost swerved off the road. "What?" he choked out.

He followed her gaze, but thankfully, she was looking out the window. "It doesn't seem that hard to get to the reservation. You said the directions were complicated."

"Oh. Finding your way around once you get inside might be a bit confusing.” Relief punctuated his words.

She accepted his explanation and lapsed back into her moody silence. In the past forty minutes he’d grown to hate that silence. He wanted to share her thoughts. He wanted to share her nights. Damn, no woman should have that much of an effect on a man without trying. The real danger of Gillian Hughes might not be the heat he would get from her father, but be the inexplicable fire she generated in him.

"Would you prefer to go to the house first or the longhouse?"

"Longhouse? What's that?"

"A community center where you’ll be teaching."

"Whichever is easier for you," she said, as if she couldn't care less.

Just once he'd like to see something ruffle the feathers of the beautiful swan. Her apathy, if not genuine, was an incredible acting job. "The community center, then. You can speak with Martha Stone, the educational advisor about the schedule."

"What exactly do they want me to teach?"

Could that be a spark of interest flickering in her eyes? She raised her chin and gazed at him. He was struck by how young she looked, and how anxious. "I'm not sure. This wasn't my idea."

* * * *

Gillian pressed her hands to her churning stomach. The thought of standing in front of a class to teach scared the life out of her. She was used to being dressed up and paraded around in public, but no one cared what she was thinking, let alone wanted to hear anything intelligent from her. 

The car exited the highway. Shortly after, she saw the sign for the Iroquois Nation Territory. Her nervous anxiety changed to silent hysteria. She studied the landscape, hoping the scenery would divert her attention.

The first building along the public access road was the obligatory tourist stand, boasting tax free cigarettes and authentic Indian artifacts.  Hawk waved to a few pedestrians but for the most part, he seemed oblivious to his environment. As they proceeded a few more miles, she understood why.

She’d formed her own mental image of what reservation life was like. Although she thought she’d assumed the worst, nothing prepared her for the level of poverty she saw. Some houses were newer than others, but for the most part, the homes needed major repairs.  Yet everyone went about their work with a welcoming smile and a cheerful wave. A quiet sorrow filled her. Was this all we offered the Native Americans after taking their country from them?

"How sad," she said and immediately regretted her words.

Hawk stopped his car in front of a long building. He turned toward her, and she flinched when he saw his slate grey eyes glaring angrily. "Not everyone can have a castle on the hill, Princess."

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

Unable to bear his stare, she lowered her head and muttered, “I don't know. It's just not what I expected."

"Did you expect tepees, wigwams and pow-wows? Perhaps when we get to the house, I'll splash on some war paint, dress in buckskin and do a rain dance for you."

"Stop it," she shrieked, shocking Hawk into a stunned silence. She massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers, hoping to soothe away the start of a headache. "I didn't say anything to deserve that."

"Come on, Gillian, we both know it's your holier-than-thou attitude that got you here to begin with."

"If that were true, I wouldn't be here. Because we both know that all I had to do was give in to my father and I'd be home right now, having my breakfast in bed.”  She reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Hawk caught her wrist before she could slip out. "Then why didn't you?"

"You're the one with all the answers. You figure it out. But I'll tell you one thing. When this is over, I won't owe Aaron Hughes a damn thing. Can you say the same?"

His eyes widened. Apparently, he didn't think she knew that her sentence had been pre-arranged by the judge. Hawk must need a favor from her father in return. He started to say something when a voice called out.

"Tommy!"

Gillian glanced toward the plump, middle aged woman standing at the door of the longhouse. Her toothy smile broadened as she gazed lovingly towards Hawk.

"Hello, Martha.” He dropped Gillian's hand and stepped out of the car. Before he could maneuver around the vehicle she was standing on the sidewalk. "Gillian, this is Martha Stone. She can answer any questions you have."

"We're mighty lucky to have you with us for the summer," Martha said.

"The summer?" Gillian repeated numbly. "But I thought...” Seeing Hawk's smug grin, she clamped her mouth shut.  She should have asked rather than assuming the course would run for five weeks.

"Well, we had thought that three or four hours a day would be enough. Most of the women have other work to take care of," Martha explained. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all," Gillian said, refusing to give Hawk the satisfaction of seeing her upset.

"Well, I'll leave you two to figure out the details. I'll be back to take you
to
the house in about a half an hour," he said.

Gillian suppressed the urge to smack the smirk off his face. Instead she smiled and said, “Fine."

Martha took her arm and led her inside. "He's a strange one, that Tommy. Kind of like a man not comfortable in his own skin. But he's always here on his days off helping out, when he's got that lovely place in the city."

"I don't know him that well, Ms. Stone."

"Oh, please, call me Martha."

Gillian tagged behind Martha like an orphaned child who had just been adopted. The welcoming reception relieved some of her initial anxieties, but she still felt the need to remain close to the motherly woman. "I'm not sure what you had in mind for me. No one explained what kind of class you wanted me to teach."

"Something that will prepare the women for the work place. This is a test program for us, and if it works out, we hope to offer it year round, if we can get the funding."

Gillian's sandals flapped against the hardwood floors as she crossed a large meeting hall. A free standing stove in the corner, although cold, still gave off the lingering scent of burnt cedar. Crafts and artifacts rested proudly behind a wall of glass at the far end, but she couldn't give them more than a passing glance as she jogged to keep up with the spry woman.

Martha's voice echoed around the room. "Most of your students had the basic typing courses when they were in high school, but so much has changed. Computers are the future. Perhaps some word processing and data base applications. There's a lot of industry moving up to this area, and a basic knowledge of computers can mean the difference between working the assembly line and a desk job in an office."

"A business course?" Gillian asked.

Martha paused at an office door. "Would you have a problem with that?"

She shook her head. "No, but I'm not a certified teacher. I'm a programmer."

Martha dismissed her fears with a smile.  "Anyone who enjoys what they're doing can pass that enthusiasm to another. This is really more of an experiment anyway.  We could order some books, but reading isn't the same as hands on experience. I'm sure you know that yourself."

Gillian was touched by the older woman's encouragement. Although she came because of a court order, Martha still went out of her way to make Gillian feel she was doing them a huge favor. "Okay. I'll give it a try and hope for the best."

"Don't worry child.” Martha winked at her. "They don't scalp you if you mess up."

"Make sure you remind Mr. Carter of that. I'm sure I saw him measuring my head size."

* * * *

"When they gave you all that education, did they take away your spirit, Thomas?"

Hawk stared into the tired eyes of John Carter. Lately, he and his father had done nothing but argue when they were together. As one of a growing number of tribal members against the proposed casino, John took Hawk's role in the negotiations as a personal affront. 

"Must we fight about this today?” He sat down on the wooden steps in front of his father's trailer and rested his arms on his knees.

At this time of year, with the foliage in full bloom he could almost forget the many problems of life here. Problems that had escalated as government cut backs and a growing population, dropped the standard of living below poverty level. Was it any wonder that the prospect of the millions in revenue a casino could generate had caused a rift among the tribal leaders?

John joined him on the steps. "Why not? Everyone else is fighting. Did you know that the last council meeting erupted into a brawl?"

"Nothing's been decided yet. Let's just talk about something else for today.” 

"All right," John agreed. "So, tell me about the Judge's daughter."

"I think I'd rather talk about the casino."

An amused grin deepened the laugh lines around his father's eyes. "So, she's gotten to you already."

"Hey, she's your problem now," Hawk said cheerfully. "And from what I understand from the talk around the courthouse, she's one handful lately."

"It kind of makes you wonder."

Hawk frowned. "Wonder what?"

"Why? Why is she a handful lately?” John leaned back and turned his face up to the sun. Age gave a hard edge to the older man's features. Or perhaps life had given him a hard edge. As a steel worker, his father had skillfully labored on six inch beams, hundreds of feet above the earth so that his children could have a better life.

Hawk thought about Gillian's pampered life in comparison. "She's a self-serving, spoiled brat."

John touched his arm. "You'd met her before, Thomas. I don't recall that being your first impression of her."

Hawk stifled a laugh. His first impression, and every one after, had been based on his hormones rather than logic. But, grudgingly, he admitted he hadn’t perceived her as self-serving or spoiled. In fact, if he’d thought for one second that her flirtations were serious, he would have asked her out, despite any backlash he might have gotten from her father. "People change."

"Not that fast without reason. You can punish the crime, but if you don't find the cause, then the lesson is worthless."

Gillian Hughes got anything she wanted. He could see no reason other than boredom that she would choose to pull such attention-grabbing stunts. "Well, she'll get an education here. Some lessons in life have to be experienced first-hand."

John nodded. "So tell me, son, are you so noble that you hope to save this woman from herself, or are you trying to punish her because you think you're not good enough for her?"

"That's absurd," Hawk denied quickly. Too quickly.

"Is it? I see so much of me reflected in you, and I'm sorry to say, I don't always like what I see. Your mother, rest her soul, didn't deserve what I put her through. How she didn't hate me, I'll never understand."

How could his father compare Gillian with his mother? They were nothing alike, except perhaps that neither one was an Iroquois. "By the time I return this weekend, you'll see I'm right about her. If she survives that long.” He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go take the princess to her new castle."

With a smile that reflected genuine amusement, John waved his good bye. "She’s really gotten to you, Thomas."

Hawk groaned. "You better get out of the sun, Dad. I think the heat is getting to you."

Chapter Three

Gillian sat cross-legged on the grass and sipped a cool glass of lemon flavored iced tea. Martha had been detoured by business so Gillian stepped outside to enjoy the warm, sunny day. A gentle breeze lifted her full cotton skirt and a kaleidoscope of color swirled up to her waist. She tucked the edges under her feet to prevent further mishap, thankful there had been no witnesses.