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Authors: Joan Johnston

BOOK: Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach
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“Because I won’t go where my husband isn’t welcome! What if Mom and Daddy hadn’t liked Mara? Or didn’t want to be bothered with Susannah, because she was sick with leukemia? How would you have felt?”

Susannah was Falcon’s stepdaughter, Mara’s daughter from a previous marriage. Her leukemia had been in remission for four years now. Another year and she would be home free.

Falcon grimaced. “I see what you mean.”

“Tell Mom and Daddy you saw me, and I’m fine. And tell them Sam really does have broken ribs.”

Charlie One Horse, her brother, and his wife didn’t stay long, but Callen was glad they had come.

After they were gone, however, a wave of homesickness washed over her. She missed her parents. This separation was ridiculous. She became more determined than ever to make peace between her husband and her family.

Sam continued to be an irascible patient, but Callen could see he enjoyed being taken care of even though he grumbled about it. She knew because of the way his eyes lingered on her face as she sat beside him brushing a stray hank of hair from his forehead, the way he laid his hand gently over hers as she set the dinner tray before him, the way he pulled her down to kiss her lips, sending her pulse soaring as he lazily helped himself to deep, probing kisses.

Callen only managed to keep Sam confined to bed for nine days, but during that time she learned a great deal about needing and wanting and expectation. Because, although there was comfort to be found sleeping close to his warmth, and joy in his tender kisses, both of them knew it couldn’t go beyond that.

Callen had been surprised at the strength of her unrequited desire. She had never realized how much she counted on the pleasure of making love with her husband at night. She had refused to let Sam exert himself until Dr. Stephens’s prescribed two weeks were up, but she caught herself dreaming about the day they could resume their lovemaking.

Callen had decided to celebrate the occasion of Sam’s recovery with a housewarming party. She hadn’t forgotten Zach’s accusation:
Sam has no friends. You’ll be all alone
. The truth was, in the months since she and Sam had gotten married, not a single neighbor had come to call. Partly, Callen assumed, it was because their nuptials had been private, and they had sent no announcements. People didn’t intrude on their neighbors in the West without some indication that the visit was welcome. Callen was sure that if she had given even a hint of wanting company, she would have had it.

This was confirmed when Callen began issuing invitations for the housewarming party. She discovered Sam was admired and liked by his neighbors. They had simply respected his wish to be left alone. If Sam didn’t have close friends, it wasn’t because his neighbors weren’t willing; it was because Sam himself had discouraged the contact.

Callen was hoping the party would be the first of many, and that she and Sam would meet other young
couples with similar interests who would become their friends. She hadn’t counted on Sam’s strenuous objection to any kind of gathering whatsoever.

“You’ve done what?” he exploded. “Why the hell would you do such a thing without asking me first?”

“First of all, because I didn’t think you’d mind. And secondly, because I need friends. It wouldn’t hurt if you had a few, as well,” she added bluntly.

Sam glowered. “I don’t need anybody.”

“Of course not,” she said with a sardonic twist of her mouth. “However, I would like to point out that if you’d had any kind of relationship at all with your neighbors you could have called on them to help out when you got hurt.”

“I don’t want to owe anybody anything.”

“That’s clear enough,” Callen snapped back. “The truth is, we all need other people, Sam. Even you.”

“I won’t be at any party you decide to give.”

“Fine. The party’s off.”

Callen headed toward the parlor from the bedroom in a huff. She didn’t want Sam to see how shocked and hurt she was by his refusal. She had known what she was getting into when she married Sam. Her father and brother had both warned her what kind of man he was.
A loner. A man without friends.
She really hadn’t considered what that might mean. She had seen in Sam only what she wanted to see. In love like she was, she truly hadn’t minded the thought of just the two of them alone on the Double L.

Callen hadn’t gone two steps before Sam caught her arm and swung her back around into his embrace. She immediately struggled for freedom, shoving against his shoulders and chest.

“Keep that up, and you’re going to send me back to bed for another two weeks,” he said with a groan of pain.

She stood frozen, her expression stricken. “What do you want from me, Sam?”

“I want you to listen while I apologize,” he said in a quiet voice. He tipped her chin up with his forefinger and said, “Sometimes I can be a little unreasonable.”

Callen arched a disbelieving brow. “You? Unreasonable?”

Sam chuckled as his arms tightened slightly around Callen. He hated the idea of exposing himself to all those people. He avoided crowds because he never showed well in them. But when he saw how disappointed Callen was, he conceded that enduring a housewarming party was little enough to give her in return for all she had done for him.

“We’ll give the party,” he said. “Invite anyone you want.”

“Even my mother and father?”

Sam thought about refusing but realized there were ways to keep Garth from attending even if Callen issued an invitation. “Sure,” he said. “Invite the whole family.”

Callen’s eyes welled. “Thank you, Sam. I will.”

He fought off the stab of guilt clawing at his insides. The only way he could keep focused on his revenge was to remember how his father had looked when he had found him. Thankfully, Callen’s voice jerked him from those grim thoughts back to the present.

“Maybe Falcon and Mara could drive over from Dallas again and bring Susannah and the baby.”

“It would be nice to see them again,” Sam said softly.

“Thank you, Sam,” Callen replied with a shy smile.
“I know you don’t care much for company. I appreciate your willingness to give this a try.”

Fortunately she chose that moment to kiss him, or Sam might have spoiled everything by admitting how little he was looking forward to the shindig his wife was planning.

Since it had been two weeks since Sam’s injury, and they were in the bedroom, both Sam and Callen let themselves enjoy kissing and holding each other, knowing that their desires could finally be fulfilled.

It was amazing, Sam thought, how much he had missed those carnal sounds Callen made in her throat. He loved how she arched toward him, how she gave that little sigh as he sank himself into her to the hilt. He had forgotten the feel of her fingernails gripping his buttocks and the way her teeth nipped at his shoulder when she came.

Callen was astonished at how easily Sam could arouse her. How he knew just where and how to touch her so that she felt cherished and appreciated. She loved the way he kept his own desire leashed until she was satisfied and gloried in the unrestrained passion that caught him unawares so he cried out her name at the moment of climax. She lay beside him, her body heaving, feeling sated and happy.

Her hand drifted lightly across Sam’s chest, her fingertips playing in the dark curls. “Are you all right?” she asked in a lazy voice.

“Mmm, hmm.”

“I take that to mean you’re fine,” she said, feeling the smile grow on her face. She reached up a hand to trace Sam’s lips. He was smiling, too.

“I love you, Sam.”

Callen waited, but Sam didn’t say the words back. She had her hands on his lips, so she felt the smile disappear, felt the lips flatten.

“Sam?”

Sam knew the smart thing to do was say the words, even if he didn’t mean them. Somehow, he couldn’t do it. Callen deserved better. He wasn’t going to lie to her any more than he already had. She had to know he admired her, that he was grateful for everything she had done to make his house a home, that he loved making love to her. Wasn’t that enough without the words?

He kissed the fingertips she held against his lips, and when she would have withdrawn, he reached out to catch her hand and hold it there. “You’re a very special woman, Callen,” he murmured against her fingertips. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”

It was the truth, but so much less than he knew she wanted to hear. He knew it was enough when he felt her relax against him. He ignored the voice that told him he needed her arms around him at night. He was a man who had never needed anyone.

Callen tried to tell herself it didn’t matter that in four months of marriage Sam had never said “I love you.” He had shown he cared in a dozen different ways, not the least of which was making love to her every night. They had their whole lives in front of them. She knew in her heart that someday the words would come.

She moved forward with her plans for a lavish housewarming party, inviting all their neighbors and her entire family. Mara and Falcon promised to come again and bring the baby, whose name was Cody, and Susannah. Both Zach and her parents had also agreed to be there.

When Sam heard that Callen’s parents had accepted their invitation, he made a point of seeking Garth out at the Stanton Hotel Café.

He walked up to the breakfast bar and said to Garth, “I want to talk to you. Privately.”

Garth rose and the two men walked into one of the hotel meeting rooms that was empty.

“I got the invitation to your housewarming,” Garth said when they were alone. “My wife and I are planning to attend.”

Sam shook his head. “You’re not welcome in my home.” For the first time Sam saw pain flash across his father-in-law’s features. He knew he ought to be gloating, but he found there was nothing to be proud of in what he was doing. He wasn’t finding the satisfaction he had yearned for when he had set out upon this course. He forced himself to focus on the image of his father in death. That gruesome portrait produced the anger he needed to proceed with his vengeance.

“If you show up at my door,” Sam threatened, “I’ll make a scene the likes of which this county has never seen. I’ll make damn sure everyone knows your part in E.J.’s death.”

“You’re bluffing,” Garth said.

“Try me.”

“I want to see my daughter.”

“I want my father back.”

The air sparked with electricity as the two men measured one another. At last Sam said in a guttural voice, “We don’t always get what we want. Do we, Garth?”

Garth hadn’t believed Sam could do it, that he could so effectively cut him off from contact with his
daughter. But Callen had been a married woman for nearly four months, and he hadn’t once seen or spoken to her. That seemed impossible to him, given the fact all he had to do was pick up the phone to talk to her or drive a few miles to be at her front door. But it was Callen herself who had asked both her parents to keep their distance. Garth had respected his daughter’s wishes, never dreaming that so much time could go by without any contact between them.

He missed her. He wanted to see her, to speak to her, to reassure himself that she was as happy as Candy said she was from their conversations on the phone. “What if I come anyway?”

“If you insist on trying to get your daughter back, I’ll give her back. In fact, I’ll throw her out.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Sam stared at Garth with eyes that looked totally merciless, with features that were as hard and unyielding as granite.

Garth knew from calls Callen had made to her mother that she was more in love with Sam now than she had been when they married. It would break his daughter’s heart if Sam rejected her now. He couldn’t do anything that might jeopardize his daughter’s happiness. But he wondered how Callen could love this misguided and vengeful young man.

Much as Garth wanted to force a confrontation, he felt that waiting Sam out was a better alternative. Time was on his side. The chances of him running into his daughter in town or at church, or catching her on the phone, were very good. And after all, his ranch and Sam’s bordered each other. There was always the possibility he would run into Callen on the range.

“You win,” he said to Sam at last. “I’ll find a reason to stay home from the party. I assume you have no objection if my wife attends?”

“None at all.”

“If we’re done, my coffee’s getting cold.” Garth left Sam standing alone in the empty room.

Sam wondered why he didn’t feel more triumphant. He had won. He was keeping Callen and her father apart. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had wounded his adversary. There had been suffering visible on Garth Whitelaw’s face. He knew the expression because he had worn it himself. But he felt no satisfaction in his accomplishment.

Sam knew what had marred his victory. It was the thought of the disappointment he would see on Callen’s face when she realized her father wasn’t coming. It was the knowledge of how unhappy he would be making his wife while he punished her father.

For a moment, a brief, flickering instant of time, he considered giving up his revenge. He considered forgiving Garth Whitelaw for his daughter’s sake. He considered letting go of the past and grabbing for a future with Callen.

Then he saw his father in his mind’s eye, lying in a pool of blood. And remembered the vow he had made.

“I promised you vengeance, Dad. And it’s vengeance you’ll have.”

CHAPTER SIX

C
ALLEN HAD SEVERAL PROJECTS SHE
wanted to accomplish before the housewarming party. First and foremost, she wanted to investigate further into whether Sam had dyslexia. A friend who was an elementary schoolteacher referred her to a woman who worked with dyslexic children. The specialist asked Callen to get a sample of Sam’s writing for her.

Callen asked Sam to make up a list of his favorite foods. He was reluctant to write them down for her at first, but she insisted she was just too tired to write herself. She did her best to look weary when he eyed her suspiciously. He laboriously wrote a list, which she was surprised to see included a couple of dishes she had made for him since their marriage. The spelling was atrocious, and some of the words didn’t make any sense at all. Callen was careful to keep her expression neutral when she took the list from him.

She met with the specialist and handed over Sam’s list. “Is it dyslexia?” she asked anxiously.

The specialist, Mrs. Moran, smiled reassuringly. “It looks like a classic case. See? Some of the words are backward. For instance,
can
is
nac
. Are you sure someone hasn’t told him before that he’s dyslexic?”

Callen shook her head. “I guess when he couldn’t
read, the teachers gave up on him. And knowing Sam, he would have hidden the problem as best he could. Is there something that can be done?”

“Oh, yes. Some very bright people have been dyslexic and performed exceptionally well. Einstein, for example. Sam can be taught to recognize words for what they are, even backward. But it takes practice. Do you think he would be willing to work with me?”

Callen smiled ruefully. “The question is whether you’d be willing to work with Sam.”

“I’ve got Monday and Wednesday evenings open. I can come to your house, or Sam can meet me at the school. Some of the local service clubs have gotten together to sponsor a fund so my services are free to whoever needs them.”

Callen felt her heart racing with excitement. Her first inclination was to race home to Sam with the good news. Then she had second thoughts. What if he got angry when he found out that she had tricked him into giving her a writing sample? What if he didn’t want any help dealing with his dyslexia? With the party only a day away she didn’t want to start an argument with him. It would be soon enough to talk with him after the party about Mrs. Moran’s conclusions and her offer of help.

“I’ll be in touch with you,” she told the specialist. “And thank you very much!”

 

T
HE DAY OF THE PARTY DAWNED
bright and sunny, and Callen was nearly bouncing with excitement like a teenager on her way to the prom. Sam had never seen her so euphoric. “It’s just a party, Callen,” he said with a laugh after she tried putting both feet in the same leg of her jeans.

“I know. But it’s the first party we’ve had as husband and wife. I want it to go well.”

“It will,” Sam reassured her as he dragged her back across him on the bed and nuzzled her neck playfully. “You’ve got every detail planned, right down to how we’re going to get everyone out the door after it’s all over so we can come in here and make love.”

Callen grinned. “At least I planned the best for last.”

Sam chuckled, then pressed his lips to her throat and began to suck.

“Sam Longstreet, don’t you dare give me a hickey!” Callen half shouted, half laughed. She shoved at his shoulders, but he held her tight in his arms. “I bought a new dress and it’ll show,” she warned.

Sam stopped what he was doing, but didn’t let her go. “I want every man there to know you’re mine,” he said. “I want to put my mark on you.”

“You’re the only man I want,” Callen said in a husky voice. “The only man I’ll ever want.”

Sam felt a lump of emotion in his throat. How had she become so precious to him? How could he have gotten himself into such an impossible dilemma? He couldn’t give her up; he couldn’t give up his vengeance. What was he going to do?

“I…” He couldn’t say “I love you.” It wasn’t fair. Not when he was using her the way he was.

“You what?” Callen said in a teasing voice.

“I bought some fancy new clothes to wear tonight.”

Callen sat up, her legs draped across his waist. “You did? Oh, Sam, that’s great!”

“I didn’t want you to worry that I’d turn up looking like I did at our wedding.”

“I never thought—”

He covered her mouth with his hand. “You know damn well that’s exactly what you thought,” he said with a grin. “I couldn’t miss the shaving cream you stuck by the sink, or the boot polish that turned up on the back of the toilet seat, or the fact that you’ve ironed every single one of my shirts for the past week. And I adore you for it.”

The words had come out before he had a chance to stop them. He didn’t miss the startled look in Callen’s eyes, or the way his own heart missed a beat when he said the words that were so close to what he knew she wanted to hear. He lowered his hand from her mouth, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Oh, Sam,” she said. “Oh, Sam.”

She was too choked up to say any more, and since his throat had closed like a vise, he used his hands and mouth to confirm what he had said. He cupped her breasts and felt the marvelous softness of them before mouthing her through the thin white T-shirt she wore. Her cry of delight made his groin tighten. Since he was naked under the sheets, it didn’t take long before her jeans were off and he had her beneath him. He was lost in a world of pleasure so vast he wasn’t sure he could ever get enough of it.

It wasn’t until much, much later that Sam realized he hadn’t used any protection. He had taken that responsibility from the first, because he knew the dire consequences that would result if he got Callen pregnant. This time he had been caught up in the powerful emotions of the moment, wanting and needing to show Callen how much he cared, how much he valued her. Birth control had been the farthest thing from his mind.

Sam couldn’t imagine any other woman than Callen
having his children. Only now was not the time. The game hadn’t yet been played out. He told himself the chances of her getting pregnant were slim to none. But he felt his gut wrench when he realized that the possibility existed.

He forced it from his mind as he and Callen finished the party preparations together. She hadn’t decorated the house so much as filled it with candles and flowers. She had polished every surface and vacuumed every speck of dust. Even he was impressed with the results.

He was quite literally stunned when he saw Callen’s dress for the party. He had never seen her wearing anything so sophisticated or elegant. It was a black dress that molded her figure, cut just low enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, but not enough to really show anything. The back, however, was cut to the waist, revealing an expanse of skin so enticing he couldn’t keep himself from reaching out to touch her skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in amazement.

Callen blushed with pleasure at the look of admiration and pride in Sam’s eyes. “Thank you, Sam. May I return the compliment?”

“I’m beautiful?” he said with a wry twist of his mouth. He looked down at the starched white tuxedo shirt and bolo tie he wore with a black leather vest and black trousers. “It’s the clothes,” he said flatly. “I look like one of those rhinestone cowboys that sit around drinking tequila in a bar back east.”

Callen laughed, a tinkling sound that skittered down his spine and right back up again to catch him in the throat.

“It’s not the clothes,” she said. “Although I must say you’re looking very fine tonight. It’s you,” she said as she eyed him from head to toe. “You really are quite a
handsome man, Sam. I can’t believe I never saw it before.”

He felt himself flush at the compliment. She was looking at him as if she would like to eat him whole. Sam felt his body respond quickly and fiercely to her invitation. He kept himself a foot away from her, knowing that if he touched her they wouldn’t be dressed to greet the guests that were due any minute. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and he knew from her face that she was feeling the same need he was to wrap himself up in her and never let go.

They both jumped when they heard a knock at the door.

“Party time,” Sam said, his voice harsh with desire.

Callen cleared her throat. “Shall we greet our guests together?”

Sam slipped an arm around her waist and drew her close. “Let’s go.”

The rest of the party was a nightmare for Sam.

He recognized their first guests as Tom Swan, who had been the center of the high school football team, and his wife, Julie. The two had been inseparable since sixth grade. Tom shook Sam’s hand and greeted him with a friendly smile that Sam made himself return.

But Sam wasn’t seeing Tom’s smile or hearing his greeting. He was remembering the day in high school when he had overheard Tom talking to several members of the team in the locker room, while they thought he was in the shower.

“That Sam,” Tom had said. “He sure can run! It’s just too damn bad he can’t read!”

He heard the boys he had thought were his friends laughing with hilarity at what a dumb jock he was. Oh,
he had been a riot, all right. He could still feel the awful aching pain of that betrayal.

Looking into Tom’s clear blue eyes, Sam knew his former teammate’s opinion of him hadn’t changed. Except now he couldn’t run, either.

Tom was just the first of several of his high school football cronies that Callen had dredged up. It seemed people stuck around this part of Texas when they were born here.

And there was Janice Reese. She was the girl he had fallen head over heels in love with in sixth grade. He had followed her around for several weeks before she turned and confronted him.

“Why are you following me around, Sam?”

“I was just wondering, Janice, if you’d go to the Halloween dance with me.”

She had wrinkled her nose at him in a way he thought particularly endearing. “What makes you think I’d go out with a dummy like you?”

He had been so shocked at the bluntness of her statement that he hadn’t been able to come up with a good reason why she should want to spend time with him. He had backed away and kept to himself after that.

He wondered if Janice remembered that fateful encounter. He had never forgotten it. He had known he had trouble with schoolwork, but had never associated that deficiency with anything lacking in himself. Until Janice had called him a dummy. It was amazing how that single sentence changed his perception of himself. He began to question himself, his intelligence.

He remembered asking E.J. if there was something wrong with him. But his father had reassured him that
aside from having trouble reading and with figures, he was smart enough.

“Who was it figured out a way to get that windmill working again?” E.J. had said. “Who was it figured out the spring mechanism for the stall doors in the barn? Who was it figured out that mixing feeds would increase the yield of weight on the cattle? I could name a dozen other bright ideas you’ve come up with. You’ve got brains, boy. Never doubt it.”

Only he had. It had come as a relief in seventh grade when he realized he could run like the wind. It had given him a way to excel at something. It had given him self-esteem. Until he had heard what the other boys really thought about him. It wasn’t enough that he could run, when he couldn’t read.

He had kept strictly to himself after that. He heard what his teammates said then. He was too stuck up to spend time with them now that all those universities had come courting, wanting Sam Longstreet to sign on the dotted line to play football. He had let them think the worst of him because there was no way he could tell them the truth.

And here they were, all of them in one place, smiling and shaking his hand and acting as if everything was perfectly normal. He felt sick to his stomach just being in the same room with them. They pretended like they didn’t remember how it was. But he had never forgiven or forgotten their cruelty.

There was some respite from the horror of confronting his past. Surprisingly, it came in the form of Callen’s two brothers, Zach and Falcon. Zach grudgingly shook his hand.

“I can see Callen’s happy,” he said.

“And that makes everything all right?” Sam asked.

“Just make sure she stays that way,” Zach said.

Sam could see the respect in Zach’s eyes, and the challenge. He couldn’t help liking the other man.

Falcon greeted Sam with his arm around Mara, who was holding a blanketed baby. Susannah, her shiny black hair hanging to her shoulders, held trustingly to his other hand.

Sam remembered Susannah from their meeting years before. At the time, Susannah had been wearing a small red hat to conceal the fact that chemotherapy had made all her hair fall out. He could see the years had been good to her.

“You’ve got a good-looking family there,” Sam said.

“Thanks,” Falcon replied. “I don’t have a free hand, or I’d shake yours.”

“I can shake his hand, Daddy,” Susannah said, suiting deed to word.

Sam bent down and shook the little girl’s hand. “You probably don’t remember me, but we met in Dallas about four years ago.”

She frowned. “Yes, I do. You’re the nice man with green eyes. I met you the day Daddy bought my pony.”

Sam smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been described so agreeably.”

“You’ve done wonders with this place,” Falcon said, looking around at the improvements, which he had missed seeing in his previous brief visit.

“All the credit goes to Callen. She’s the one who worked the magic.”

“Where is she?” Falcon asked. “I want to say hello.”

“I think she’s in the kitchen with your mother.”

“Is Dad with them?”

Sam worked to keep his features even. “Your father couldn’t come. Some kind of emergency at the last minute, I think.”

“That’s too bad. I think we’ll try to find Callen, if you’ll excuse us.”

Sam looked around his parlor at the happy, smiling people and felt alone. He wanted to be with Callen, but he knew her family was with her now. He couldn’t very well go in there and drag her away from them. He searched for someone, anyone he could comfortably converse with. His gaze stopped on Janice Reese.

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