Hawks Mountain - Mobi (11 page)

Then he backed away into the crowd.

After Collins had left, and to Nick’s great surprise, people started coming over to their blanket. Most made an excuse to speak to Granny or Becky, and then simply smiled and nodded their approval at Nick. Some just came straight out and thanked him for taking an interest in the boy. Evidently, most of the town knew the situation between Davy and his dad, but the attention made Nick uncomfortable. He hadn’t come here to be anybody’s champion. He’d come here because of Becky and the persistent, nagging need to see her again.

He’d spent most of the last couple of days and good portion of the nights trying to talk himself out of coming here, but Becky’s face kept popping into his mind and the way the sun had made her look like an angel that day at the falls. Maybe she was his angel. Maybe she could still the demons and bring light to the shadows on his soul. Then again, maybe he was reaching. But he had to find out one way or the other. And if that meant coming here where people abounded and running a race with a little boy whose father was too busy being a politician to be a dad, then so be it.

All he knew for certain was when he was with
Becky,
he felt like the man he’d been before he went to
Iraq
, before he’d seen the horrors of war.
Before Ahmed.
When he was with Becky, the brightness of her smile and the music of her voice drove away the painful memories of the bloody aftereffects of a roadside bomb.

Because the prizes were so elaborate this year, Granny had told Becky that the rules committee decided to make the race more difficult by using an oval track set up on the church’s side lawn. Becky waited while Nick paid the entry fee of two dollars per person, part of which went into the organ fund and the other part went toward the purchase of the coveted prizes.

When she and Nick arrived at the track, Davy was waiting for Nick with one leg already in the burlap sack. The smile on the boy’s face said it all and filled Becky with delight. The excitement building in the crowd surrounding the oval was almost palatable.

Once the pairs of entrants were ready, the starter blew the whistle, and they were off. Davy and Nick took the lead right away, widening it within moments. Along the way there were objects they had to collect and stash inside the bag before crossing the finish line: a ball, a hardboiled egg and several other things. The more they collected, the harder it was to maintain their speed and balance while maintaining their lead. Several times, one of them stumbled but managed not to fall.

Becky skirted the perimeter of the crowd, following her favorites as they made their way slowly around the course. Holding on to their lead, Davy and Nick hopped along inelegantly, holding up the burlap sack enclosing one of each of their legs. Davy’s face reddened with exertion.

By the time they’d rounded the final turn in the oval track, they’d left most of the contenders in the dust, but were experiencing a lot of difficulty given the items hampering them in the sack. Becky sidled up to Granny and waited breathlessly for them to cross the finish line, cheering them on to victory until her voice was ragged and her throat raw.

“They’re
gonna
win, Granny!” Becky jumped up and down like a little kid.

Then the worst happened. Davy stumbled and fell. Without hesitating for a minute, Nick scooped him up and crammed his leg back in the sack, and they were off again, their competitors hot on their heels and gaining.

Becky could hear Davy yelling “Run fast, Mr. Nick. Run faster.”

Soon, she’d joined the chant. “Run faster, Nick!” Then it became “Go, Nick! Go!” Then as they neared the finish line, it became just “Go! Go! Go!”

Within seconds of the pair behind them, Nick and Davy crossed the finish line. The crowd erupted with cheers for the victors. Davy fell into the waiting arms of his mother, who swept him into a bear hug. His father, giving no sign that he was proud of his son’s victory, remained on the judges’ platform beside Reverend Thomas.

Without thinking, Becky ran to Nick, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “That was great! Congratulations!”

Then she kissed him.
Right on the mouth.
Right there.
In front of the whole town.

Quickly she stepped back. She could not believe what she’d done. Heat burned in Becky’s cheeks. But not nearly as hot as her mouth where the imprint of Nick’s lips on hers continued to sizzle. Tentatively, she touched it.

Nick stared at her mouth and took a deep, shuddering breath. He looked as shocked as she felt. But before he could say anything, Davy extricated himself from his mother’s arms and threw himself at Nick, hugging him fiercely around the waist. While Nick embraced the boy, his gaze held Becky’s over the boy’s head. The look of pure wanting on his face stole any words of explanation she might have said.

“We won, Mr. Nick! We really won!”

Nick dragged his attention away. “We sure did, partner.”

“Come on. We gotta go get our prizes.” Davy grabbed Nick’s hand and began pulling him toward the platform at the side of the field.

As they passed Becky, Nick grabbed her hand and towed her along with them.

“Wait!”

“Oh, no.
No waiting about it.” He continued on, never letting go of her hand. “You got me into this, so you should be in at the award presentation.”

By the time she was ready to protest again, they’d arrived at the awards platform. Reverend Thomas motioned for Davy and Nick to join him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the winners and champions of the three-legged race. Mr. Davy Collins and
his .
 . . other leg . . . ” The crowd laughed. “Mr. . . 
. ”
He stared at Nick.

“He’s Mr. Nick,” Davy supplied.

“Thank you, Davy. Does Mr. Nick have a last name?”

Davy looked at Nick, and then shook his head.
“Nope.
He’s just Mr. Nick.” The crowd laughed again.

Nick bowed his head. Color crept up his cheeks.

“Well, then, Mr. Collins and Mr. Nick, it’s my pleasure to present you with your prizes.” He slipped an envelope from his pocket and drew two cards from it. “For you, Mr. Collins, a certificate that entitles you to your choice of a brand new two-wheeler bike from Bart Lawson’s Wheels and Deals bicycle shop.”

Davy stepped up, took the card and then beamed at it as if the reverend had just handed him a million dollars. The crowd broke out in wild applause. Becky grinned wide enough that anyone watching her would have thought she won the bike.

“And for Mr. Nick, a certificate that entitles you to a three course dinner for two, including a bottle of their best wine, at The Lodge on the
Lake
.”

Again the crowd erupted in applause. Nick accepted the card, stared at it for a few moments, then looked meaningfully at Becky. He held the card between his index and middle finger and waved it at her.

The crowd turned to see who had drawn his attention. Suddenly, Becky felt as though she were a bug under a microscope. Then they all applauded again, this time with whoops and wolf whistles added. Fire burned in her cheeks.

Becky and Nick strolled
back to the blanket holding what was left of Granny’s food. Becky collapsed on the quilt and tucked her legs beneath her. Nick flopped down on his belly beside her and pondered his prize.

Contentment oozed from every pore of his body. This was the best day he’d had in months and months. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so good, so relaxed, so free of those nagging memories. He glanced at Becky. And it was all because of her.

The woman was amazing. Somewhere along the line, she’d opened a small crack in his well of misery and some of it had seeped out. It hadn’t all gone away, but he felt more human than he had in a very long time.

Becky smiled down at him, and the brightness of his world went up a few notches.

“You do realize that you made that little boy’s
day,
don’t you?”

Her compliment left him speechless for a moment. He’d entered the race with Davy because she’d nudged him and because the kid needed to know that someone was in his corner. Clearly his father had had no desire to make a fool of himself in a burlap bag. “You do realize that you’ll be paying a price for getting me into that, don’t you?”

She frowned.
“A price?”

“Well, since you conned me into sticking my leg into that burlap bag and hoping around like a lame kangaroo, you’ll have to share my prize and go to dinner with me tomorrow night.” He waved the small white card at her. “I’ll be at your door at seven.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She motioned to the card. “I mean if there someone else you’d rather—”

Nick stopped whatever would have come next with a finger to her lips. “Number one, besides Davy, you, Granny and Doc Mackenzie, I don’t know anyone else in
Carson
. Number two, none of them appeal to me. I
want
to take
you
.”

Becky smiled.

The surprising tingle of pleasure that cascaded through him as her lips moved against his finger made him draw his hand back. What was there about this woman anyway? A simple smile or a word from her and the world became a brighter place. Not to mention that all his resolve about sticking to himself evaporated in the wind when it meant spending a few hours with her.

It had been only a few weeks since their first encounter in the meadow and in that time, she’d turned his world upside down. Nick Hart, the guy who was going to shut himself off from the ugly world, was lying on a blanket in the middle of a crowd of people and enjoying it.

He looked around him and remembered how the town folks had come over and thanked him for standing up to the mayor. How they’d cheered him in the race, and how they’d applauded when he and Davy won. This was not the ugly world he’d been hiding from. But, he reminded himself,
Carson
was also a very small corner of a very big world.

He turned on his side to look at Becky and noted a tall, good-looking man in khakis and a short-sleeved, green plaid shirt coming purposely toward them. A pronounced limp impaired his progress. He stopped beside the blanket and looked down at Becky, then flashed a mouthful of snow white teeth.

“Hey, Becks.”

Nick’s body tensed. He sat up, senses unreasonably on alert.

Becky stared at the man, her eyes blank. “Excuse me. Do I know you?”

“Jim Madison? We went to school together.
Center on the basketball team?”
When Becky didn’t respond, he went on. “I dropped out of school to join the Army. But that didn’t last long.
Iraq
saw to that.” He motioned to his leg. “Your grandmother chased me off with a broom for stealing tomatoes from her garden.
Got me grounded for a week.”

Nick’s gaze shifted to the stiff leg that had caused the limp he’d noted as
Madison
had approached them. Instead of seeing the sharp crease in the man’s khakis, Nick saw the battered leg of a man Nick had carried into the hospital tent. He closed his eyes to erase the vision.

“Of course, now I remember. Granny went to your house and told your dad what you did. How are you?”

Becky’s explanation dragged Nick from his memories. His eyes shot open in time to see her shake the hand of the man squatting in front of her. The guy held on to her hand. The hair on Nick’s nape bristled.

“You’re just as pretty as I remembered you.”

Becky pulled her hand away. “So what are you doing now?” Her voice sounded nervous, and her cheeks
glowed
a pretty pink.

“I’m working out at the widow Daniel’s estate at the end of the valley. I manage her grounds keepers.” He chuckled. “Not much else I can do with this.” He patted his leg as though it were a medal dangling from his chest.
“Got it when a roadside bomb ignited while I was pulling a guy to safety.”
Nick could have sworn the guy’s chest puffed out a bit.
“Got a Purple Heart.”