Hawks Mountain - Mobi (5 page)

Setting the duffle bag atop the quilt, Jo reached for the photo. Her calloused thumb caressed the plain wooden frame. Her only child’s wife, Susan, bright and as pretty as the daughter to whom she
’
d given birth, smiled back at her from the photo. Beside her stood David, Susan’s husband and Jo’s son, a handsome man with his daddy’s smile and broad shoulders, his arm draped lovingly around his new wife.

“
I wish you could see your baby now. You
’
d be so very proud of her. She
’
s grown into a fine woman,
”
she told the faces gazing back at her.

Tears blurred her vision. Jo had never dreamed that within two years of that wedding picture being snapped, her daughter-in-law and son would be killed in a head-on collision with a semi not three miles from home. Becky had been almost one and, aside from what Jo had told her, had no recollection of the two people who had given her life and loved her beyond anything in this world.

Placing the picture back on the table, Jo wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron, then began unpacking Becky
’
s belongings and placing the articles of clothing carefully in the dresser drawers. When she tried to zip the bag
closed,
the zipper teeth caught in the torn lining. She struggled with it for a time, then worked it free and took the bag to the attic and left it with other abandoned luggage.

As she descended the stairs to the front hall, Jo sniffed the apple and cinnamon rich air. Baked apples, one of Becky’s favorites, were almost ready. She headed back to the kitchen to get the apples out of the oven, and then finish up her baking chores. What with all that fresh air and sunshine, not to mention her long walk from the main road, Becky would be starving when she got back, and Jo wanted to have a good meal on the table for her. It would be nice to have someone to talk to while she ate. That it was her granddaughter made it even better.

Nick walked unhurriedly
down the path that led to the stream a short distance from his cabin. In his hand he carried a rod and a tin can full
of
freshly dug, plump earthworms. Ever since lunch he
’
d been thinking about having fresh fish for dinner, but to do that, he
’
d have to catch some. Cooking the fish, he’d mastered. However, catching them still eluded him.

Never into outdoor sports, even though his granddad had tried his best to get him interested, fishing wasn’t one of Nick
’
s stronger talents. Now, he wished he’d paid more attention to his grandfather’s instructions. Try as he might, in the time he’d been here, he hadn’t been able to master casting the line without tangling it in the overhanging branches of some tree waiting to make him look a fool. But he hadn’t given up. Though he
’
d lost all his fish hooks but one, he vowed yet again to catch his dinner.

While fish occupied the forefront of his mind, far in the back remained something that had stayed with him for hours—the image of the woman in the meadow. Odd that she should haunt his thoughts. He’d only spent a few minutes with her and hadn’t even spoken to her, yet she remained like a ghost hovering over him, infiltrating his mind when he least expected it.

Shaking himself free of the image, he pushed through some low-growing bushes and stood on the bank of a merrily bubbling, crystal clear stream. A few weeks back, between him and the bank on the opposite side of the stream, Nick had discovered a prime fishing hole. He
’
d gone swimming in it a time or two and had found it to be deeper than his six-feet-one height. He
’
d also found it to be alive with sunfish and that, though small and boney, they were delicious rolled in flour and fried in a hot skillet.

Setting the can of worms on a nearby rock, he tied his last hook on the end of the line. A few feet up from the hook, he hooked on the red and white bobber he
’
d bought at Keeler’s store on his last trip to town, and then he threaded a worm on the hook. Bait in place, he looked around him, then moved a few steps to the side to avoid the low branches of the tree that already possessed several of his hooks and several lengths of line in its leafy branches. No sense tempting fate.

Carefully, he held the rod to the side of his body, and then snapped his wrist forward. Weighted by the plump earthworm and the plastic bobber, the line flew past him and landed with a soft
kerplunk
in the water. He watched as the bobber popped to the surface, then float slowly downstream with the gentle pull of the current. When the red and white plastic ball nestled against the river bank, he reeled it back in and repeated his action.

Just about to cast his line out again, he heard something that made him stop. Lowering the pole, he listened. Very faint and probably undetectable if there had been another sound in the woods, came the soft, plaintive whimper of something in pain.

Laying his pole aside, Nick listened again to determine where the crying originated. He concluded it was coming from somewhere about twenty or so feet to his left. Cautiously, not sure if it was a wild animal or an injured human, he made his way to the spot. As he rounded an outcropping of rock, he saw the source of the mournful whining.

A large, shaggy, gray animal had gotten its paw wedged between two rocks. A spattering of blood colored the fur around the animal’s ankle. At first, Nick thought it might be a wolf, but when it raised its head and looked at him with large, pleading black eyes, he saw it was Jo Hawks’ dog. The dog let out a long, high-pitched wail, as though begging for his help.

“Okay, fella. Hang on, and I’ll get you out of this fix you’ve gotten yourself into.” Before touching the dog, he allowed him to sniff his hand. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore than necessary to get you out of here.” The dog glanced at him, and then licked his hand. “I guess that means you trust me, so let’s see what we can do.”

He looked around and found a stout stick, wedged it between the rocks and then pried them apart enough to remove the dog’s paw. Carefully, Nick pulled the paw from the vise created by the rocks and ran his fingers over the spot where the blood had stained the fur. The leg was probably badly bruised, and the blood had come from the sharp edge of the rock breaking through the skin. The dog tried to stand, but began emitting that painful whine again when it tried to put its weight on the injured leg. That wasn’t good. It might be broken.

“That’s okay, boy. I’ll get you back to Ms. Hawks, and she’ll take good care of you.”

Nick scooped the dog into his arms and turned toward the path to Jo Hawks’ house. Not until he saw the large, white structure did he stop to think that this would mean letting down his wall, even for a little while. His steps faltered. The dog whined. Nick sighed. He had no choice.

 
“Ms. Hawks!”

Becky started at the raised voice outside the back door. She glanced at Granny Jo. “Who could that be?
”

“
Well, child, I suppose the best way to find out is to answer it,
”
Granny announced, hurrying toward the solid wooden barrier while she wiped her hands on her apron.

She swung the door open to reveal a man cradling the body of Jake in his arms.
“
Jake! What on earth happened to him, Nick?
”

Becky swallowed hard.
Nick? So, the man from the meadow
was
Nick, Granny’s new neighbor.

Nick stepped into the room. “He got his paw wedged between a
couple
of rocks. The leg may be broken. He’ll need an x-ray, and he’s got a nasty cut that needs stitching.”

Not missing a beat, Granny began removing the makings for supper off the pine table to any available surface that would hold them. “Becky, get me that bath towel on top of the laundry basket.”

Becky retrieved the towel and returned to the table. Granny snatched the towel from Becky and then spread it over the table.

Nick laid Jake on the towel. The dog whined and looked at Becky with soulful eyes. Becky stared helplessly at the animal. Her heart went out to him. Then, offering the only comfort she could, she gently stroked his head. His big tail thumped half-heartedly against the table.

She glanced at Nick. “Will he be all right?”

“He’s going to need to see a vet. Is there one in town?”

Becky nodded.
“Doc Mackenzie.
He has the Paws and Claws Clinic just south of town.”

“Great.” Without looking up from the dog, he began issuing orders. “I’m going to need a magazine and some gauze, or an elastic bandage will do.” When Becky looked at him questioningly, he explained. “Just in case it is broken, we have to stabilize his leg until we can get him to the vet. “

Granny hurried off to do his bidding.

He stroked the dog’s head and murmured reassurances to Jake as if he could understand him. “It’s okay, boy. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” Astonishingly, the dog stilled, as if he knew Nick would take care of him.

When Granny returned, Nick took the magazine and wrapped it around the dog’s leg, then secured it with a length of gauze. Fascinated, Becky watched. She’s seen doctors at the free clinic in
Atlanta
tend to the wounds of some of the children and, though his materials were crude, Nick performed as skillfully and compassionately as any of them.

This was not the stoic, uncommunicative, almost angry man she’d met in the meadow. This man cared about this dog and the pain he was feeling. Nick handled him with gentleness and performed the needed tasks with an agility that could not be a coincidence.

He’s done this before.
But before she could carry the thought any further, he spoke.

“Let’s get him to the car.” Nick declared. “Becky, can you hold the door?”

Becky hurried to the door, followed by Nick carrying Jake with Granny on his heels.

When they made it to the driveway and the car, Granny, who had been ominously quiet through the entire incident, handed Becky her keys. “Let Nick drive.”

Then Granny climbed in the backseat. Nick placed Jake on the seat beside her, his head in her lap. She looked at Nick with misty, worried eyes. He patted her shoulder. “He’ll be okay once that leg’s seen to.”

Then he looked at Becky and smiled.

Becky
’
s breath caught. What was there about this man that caused her heart to leap in her chest and the air to catch in her lungs? She barely knew him, yet, contrarily, she felt like she’d known him for years. But that wasn’t all that had her feeling like a school girl on her first date.

When she
’
d seen him at the meadow, she thought him a passably good looking man, but that smile transformed his face into pure handsome. She couldn’t decide which was more disturbing, the sight of his bare upper body back in the meadow or the way his blue shirt clung to his broad shoulders and chest now. Or the way his jeans molded to the muscles in his thighs. Or that smile that seemed to light up the shadows in the suddenly small car interior.

Nick checked on Granny and Jake once more, then turned back and again caught Becky’s eye, his smile still in place.

A bit embarrassed at being caught staring, Becky tentatively returned his smile, then, unable to think of anything except how deep and soulful his brown eyes were, she quickly averted her gaze. When he climbed into the front seat, she felt the car dip, but didn’t turn to look at him.

She hadn’t said much since he’d shown up carrying Granny’s dog, content to allow Granny and Nick to concentrate all their attention on caring for Jake. Now, sneaking a peek at him across the width of the car seat made her heart beat faster, which was not entirely due to his strong sexual attraction. Looking at his size and the strength evident in his muscular arms made her shiver. Though he had neither said nor done anything to give that impression, in a strange way, she found him threatening, but not physically. The threat went deeper to her emotions.