Make Mine a Marine (27 page)

Her gaze dropped to the marbling pattern on the floor, which she wished would swallow her up. She'd been raised with manners. Were her nerves too tightly drawn to remember anything she'd been taught?

Hawk leaned forward and kissed the woman on the cheek. She laughed at something he whispered in her ear. Sarah felt like an outsider. Tension fluttered in her stomach, and she couldn't get the apology in her head past the constriction in her throat.

Obviously these were friends of Hawk's who'd come to see him off at the airport. There was nothing to protect her from here. Because of her anxiety over the trip, she'd panicked when there was no need to. No wonder half the population of northeast Kansas wanted her to stay put.

In an effort to preserve what was left of her battered self-esteem, she quietly stepped away, escaping while the other three adults caught up on shared history.

But five long fingers closed around her arm in a deceptively light grip, like steel sheathed in velvet. Her gaze flew up to Hawk's as he pulled her back to his side. The faintest light glowed around his dark irises, silently calling to her, connecting to the cold, frightened part of her that had battled enough for one day.

How does he do that?
He didn't look
at
her. He looked into her. Looked deep into her heart and saw secrets that even she couldn't remember keeping. How could a man of such darkness radiate such a light?

Sarah frowned, questioning her own perception. It was just a trick, she thought. A trick of her tired mind and overactive imagination.

"Sarah." Hawk was speaking now, and she made herself concentrate on his words. "I'd like you to meet Brodie Maxwell, an old friend of mine.  And his wife, BJ."

"Hi." BJ shook hands first, and Sarah could tell this woman had a magic about her that drew people out and made them feel like a friend.

Sarah succumbed easily enough and smiled in return. "Nice to meet you."

"Ma'am."

She hesitated only an instant before accepting Brodie's big hand. "Mr. Maxwell."

And then in a move as natural as if he had done it a hundred times, Hawk shifted and slipped his hand around her back and rested it at the small of her waist beneath her hair. The connection he'd made through his eyes now seared into her skin through the gauzy cotton of her dress. His light touch provided a warmth that instilled its strength into her. Miraculously, her tongue untied itself, and the backbone she'd discovered when her trip was threatened returned.

She didn't know why he'd reached out to her, but she appreciated the support in his touch. As if he'd read her mind. As if he knew right when she needed a hand.

"Brodie and I served in the Corps together."

"Marines?" she asked, thinking a military background explained a lot about his warrior like demeanor this morning.

BJ took over the conversation. "These two go way back. I didn't meet Hawk until last year, when he helped me with
…well, when he counseled me on…

BJ paused and looked up at her husband. Sarah saw Brodie squeeze BJ's shoulder before she continued. "He helped us with a personal situation before we got married." Then BJ smiled again as though the dark moment had passed. She nudged a playful fist at Hawk's stomach. "We can't get this guy to the big city often enough to visit us."

So Hawk was a rescuer by nature. Curious. Just what was it about Sarah that he thought needed rescuing? And why did he insist on volunteering for the job when she'd made it clear she didn't want him to?

Sarah surprised herself by joining the conversation as if her alarm at first meeting them had never happened. BJ's polite inquiries and Hawk's broad hand flattened against her spine made her feel included. BJ and Brodie worked at LadyTech, a software company whose products Sarah used on the school computers. She had just asked BJ about a suggested update to a tutorial program when the gate attendant announced that their plane had arrived and would begin boarding soon.

An immediate change came over the two men. Smiles evaporated and Hawk let go of her, leaving Sarah with a chilled sense of abandonment.

"Sorry I can't go with you," said Brodie.

Hawk shook his head and adjusted the duffel bag he’d slung over his shoulder. "You can't leave BJ now. She's due any day."

Brodie nodded. He clapped Hawk on the shoulder and turned him away from the two women. Whatever they were about to discuss concerned her, she was sure of it. She inclined her ear to eavesdrop on their private conversation.

"Kel Murphy has alerted his contacts in Tenebrosa. And I got a hold of Del Rio. He claims he's a little out of practice, but if you need anything, give him a call. He'll be there." Brodie handed Hawk a business card and the Indian laughed.

"I've never known Rafe to miss a party."

"Yeah."

A soft touch on Sarah's arm distracted her. "Ignore them. They're always a bit overprotective. It's just their nature."

BJ smiled indulgently, as if she thought having someone else take charge of her life was a good thing. Sarah felt trapped. All she wanted to do was see something of the world. All she wanted was to have some kind of adventure to fill her heart before she returned home and was resigned to small-town spinsterhood like Doris and Millie.

Hawk seemed determined to take that chance away from her.

"Flight number two seventeen to Mexico City is now boarding," the intercom announced.

Everyone said their good-byes. Sarah adjusted her tote bag over her shoulder. When she straightened, she found Hawk looking down at her with that unreadable expression of his. She tried to plead her case one last time. "You have to go?"

"I have to go."

She nodded, accepting her fate, but not liking it. "Okay. But let's get one thing straight.
I
am in charge of this expedition. As far as I'm concerned, it's just a freaky coincidence that you ended up on the same flight and tour that we did. If you interfere with those girls' education in any way, if you scare them, if you so much as cramp their style, I’ll—“

"I won't spoil this trip for you, schoolmarm." He voiced her true concern with deadpan accuracy. Before she could register any kind of protest, he grabbed her by the elbow and ushered her back to the security gate. When he bent to whisper in her ear, the most delicious sensations danced down her spine, along with an unnerving rush of fear.

"But make no mistake. If anything happens down there, we go. And when I say to get your pretty little butt in gear, you and your girls better hustle it into overtime."

Pretty little butt?

Sarah felt her backside grow warm. Was it possible to blush down there? It must be the residual effects of him touching her. And looking at her. As if he really could see…As if he really might think…

But no, it was just a figure of speech. A warning to let her know he meant business by going with them. Hawk was a rescuer by nature. BJ had practically said so. He meant nothing personal by his remarks. Nothing personal in the way he'd drawn her to his side and included her in the meeting with his friends.

Besides, Walter had said—

Sarah stamped out the memory without acknowledging the damage it had done to her. She stiffened her resolve and pulled away from Hawk's grip. She hurried on ahead of him, tossing her things into a bin and walking through the metal detector.

She'd fought hard for this little shot at independence. She wasn't about to let some dark, enigmatic stranger dictate how she should live her life.

And yet Hawk made it so easy to depend on him, to believe in his word. He made her think she could trust him

Thank God they had five teenagers along on the trip to keep her busy and knock that kind of sentimental nonsense right out of her head.

* * *

Colleen, Lynnette and the other girls swarmed around Sarah, hanging on every word their teacher said as she showed them a map and talked through their itinerary. They bombarded her with questions, and she patiently listened to and answered each one. The girls practically idolized their precious Miss Mack. Did that mean they shared the same foolish tendency to rush headlong into situations for which they were totally unprepared?

Man,
that
was a sobering thought.

Hawk settled down in his seat a few rows back and tried to find a comfortable position for his legs, which were invariably cramped in the tight confines of an airplane. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep so no one would disturb him as he tried to tap into the inner wisdom that guided him.

Returning to Tenebrosa wasn't something he'd want to risk with a crack team of soldiers like the operatives he'd been with the last time he was there. But to go in with a self-righteous schoolmarm and five bubbly, eager, moody teenage girls was like contemplating suicide.

Not smart. Not smart at all.

Hawk breathed in deeply through his nose and expelled the air quietly through his mouth, seeking his calm center. Five years ago, he'd sensed an evil on Tenebrosa. An evil that could turn a man's soul and destroy a good friend without leaving a trace.

Even with his powers, he hadn't seen it coming. By the time he realized unnatural forces were at work, it was too late. Jonathan Ramsey was gone. Vanished.

And he couldn't even find the body to take home to his grieving widow and daughter.

Some power. Some soldier.

Hawk rolled his neck, fighting to relieve the tension there. He needed to meditate. He needed to silence the drone of the plane's engines and the self-doubting mantra that blocked him from finding peace. He drew on the advice of his spiritual mentor, Otis Peace Hands, and tried to picture a totally different scene in his mind.

The flat, treeless plains of Kansas were about as far from the dense tropical jungles of Tenebrosa as he could get. Mentally, he put himself there. A man standing alone in a barren cornfield, with nothing but miles of faded brown cornstalks and clear autumn sunshine in every direction. No place for the enemy to hide.

Hawk breathed again, more relaxed this time. He imagined filling his senses with the dry, clean air of the vast prairie. Thoughts of Tenebrosa slipped away. The notion that he was setting himself up for doomsday again receded into a hidden part of his mind.

He tapped into the resurgent strength of his spirit brother, the hawk, and soared high above the ground, looking for symbols to give him peace and courage. But other images, not of the spirit world, but of this earth, slipped into his dreams.

Tawny eyes. The golden-brown bear of his vision blinked, and he saw Sarah's eyes. Hazel, really. But he'd seen enough gold amongst the green to remind him of his vision. Fine, beautiful eyes set in her pale oval face.

She was of average height, yet she seemed like such a tiny thing. From the smooth span of her back he'd felt beneath her cotton dress to the slim, sinewy strength of her arms, she was a finely boned woman. Everything about her seemed slender, fragile, delicate.

Everything but her mouth and her spirit, that was. The muscles at the corners of his lips twitched as he controlled the urge to smile. She could cut a man to ribbons with that tongue of hers. She was so prim and proper, with high-and-mighty ways that compensated for her natural shyness. Yet she didn't back down from a fight.

On the surface she was feisty, and about as effective as a kitten spitting at a bobcat. But he'd glimpsed the woman beneath that shyness. He'd seen her stand up to Kensit. Stand up to a whole town. Stand up to him.

She had more in common with that she-bear of his dreams than prim, proper Miss Sarah McCormick could possibly know. Even the color of her hair, cascades of golden brown toffee, reminded him of the Kodiak.

Half dozing, Hawk felt the recognition tug at him, creating a ripple of unease in his meditative state. He wondered just how repellent it would be to Miss McCormick if she knew he was comparing her to a bear.

And appreciating the comparison.

Not to worry. He'd never tell her. She'd never be interested in his opinion of her anyway. Not just because she saw him as the bad guy in all this. Women didn't appreciate men like him, who could read beneath the surface of their secrets.

He was revered among his own people for his mystical gifts, and native women maintained a respectful distance, as if he were some kind of demigod. And Anglo women…if they could see beyond the color of his skin that made him some sort of exotic plaything, they resented his gifts.
Creepy. Uncomfortable. No privacy. Not right.

He'd heard all the excuses. He could find and give pleasure with his body, but let his spirit get involved, let them see the inner man—and he was history. He could lie about who and what he was. Or he could be alone.

He chose to be alone.

With the peace he had sought completely disrupted, Hawk shifted in his seat again. He kept his eyes closed so that the flight attendants and other passengers wouldn't disturb him, but instead of meditating, he focused on the days ahead.

Tenebrosa was the last place he wanted to go. But he had to. Whether she knew it or not, Sarah needed his help. The resemblance between her and his vision was too strong to ignore.