Authors: Virginia Brown
Tags: #General, #Romance, #Western, #Historical, #Fiction, #Cultural Heritage
Then he’d just wanted to see Deborah settled somewhere safe, but the reunion with his mother had lured him into lingering until after the birth of his child.
Now he was restless, feeling the need to move on again. Old habits died hard, he supposed, but this time the urge to roam had an end goal in mind.
He cleared his throat.
“I got a letter, too, you know,” he said, and Deborah looked at him, her hazel eyes flecked with gold and shadow.
“I know. I was wondering if you would mention it.” Shrugging, Zack rose from the chair, plucking his damp pants away from his thighs with a mutter of disgust. Then he went to his wife and pulled her against him.
“Sally Martin wrote me. She has decided to put her ranch up for sale.”
“Sally Martin—the woman who saved your life.” Deborah nodded.
There was no jealousy in her tone, only a profound gratitude to the woman who’d helped Zack and loved him.
“Yes. I invited her to come here for a while.” He grinned when Deborah’s head tilted back to look up at him. “I thought she and Danny might get along pretty good.”
“Zack Banning, are you matchmaking?” Deborah demanded so incredulously that he could feel a slight flush rising.
“Well, she’s lonely and so is Danny since his wife died a few years back,” he defended himself. “I can’t see any harm in it.”
“Any harm in what?” a masculine voice asked, and they turned to see Danny Miles step up onto the porch. He was dusty and smiling, his light blue eyes raking his brother with affection. “Not another baby, I hope.”
“Do you object to this one?” Amelia demanded so swiftly they all laughed.
Danny dragged a hand through his light brown hair and shook his head ruefully. “No, but he sure is a noisy thing at times. Yowled for an hour the other day after I took away the knife he found.” Zack felt a shudder run through Deborah, and curled his arms around her again. “He gets into trouble, that’s for sure.” Leaning back against the porch post, Danny eyed him closely. “You’re up to something,” he guessed. “I can tell by your eyes.” Deborah smothered a laugh. “Zack has someone he wants you to meet, I’m afraid.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking about buying her ranch.” There was a moment of quiet, and they all heard Amelia Miles’s quickly in-drawn breath. Young Caleb gave a squeal of protest at her tightening hug, and she soothed him with soft words in her cool, clipped tones.
“Where is it?” Danny asked after a moment.
“At the foot of the Hueco Mountains.”
“Near the Velazquez and Diamond places?” Danny’s surprise was evident.
“Not too near. But I’m not worried about it. I don’t think Diamond will mess with me, not since he’s married to Judith. And since Don Francisco lost any claim to his lands, he’s certainly not a threat. I hear he’s living in some adobe hut near Sirocco.”
“Hardly the grande hacienda he once had, but it’s his own fault.” Zack tilted a glance at Deborah. “You sorry you didn’t get to keep any of it?” “I could have, you know. After you produced the paper you had him sign, I could have claimed all of it.” Deborah shook her head. “At least Tía Dolores is well taken care of. I think it’s justice that Don Francisco lost everything, but I can’t help feeling a certain sadness that she lost, too.”
“Too bad the law didn’t take care of Velazquez.” Zack shrugged. “You’d think a signed confession of attempted murder, extortion, and various other crimes would have put him away for a while at worst, gotten him hung at best.” Zack’s voice hardened, and his eyes narrowed. “It would have suited me if he had dangled from the end of a rope, but I don’t always get my way.”
“No,” Amelia said coolly, “you don’t. I don’t want you to move away.” Zack shifted slightly, leaning back against the wooden porch rail and pulling Deborah with him. “We need our own life. Our own place. Sally’s offer is a good one. She has plenty of water, deep wells, and enough acreage to run a few cattle. I don’t need more. Don’t want more.” His arm tightened around Deborah. “I have all I want now.” Danny cleared his throat, boot scraping against the porch as he bent one long leg and looked out over the land stretching beyond the house. “I sent that herd of cattle to market like you wanted.”
“Did you cut out the beeves we agreed on?” Danny nodded. “Yes. White Eagle’s camp will have enough meat for the winter.”
“This winter, anyway.”
Silence fell. The Comanche had been relentlessly pursued by Mackenzie, and defeated in a bloody battle at North Fork. Shortly thereafter, a Comanche war chief, Parra-a-coom, or Bull Bear, had gone to Fort Sill and asked that the women and children Mackenzie had taken be released in exchange for the surrender of the warriors. United States Agent Tatum had reservations. Release of the women and children being held as hostages would only free the men to make war again, he thought. Already, their imprisonment had secured the freedom of fourteen white captives and twelve Mexicans being held by the Comanche. He refused.
Sunflower was still among those being held by Mackenzie at Fort Richardson, and White Eagle had chosen to go on the warpath to affect his daughter’s return. It was a tense situation.
“It will not end well,” Zack said heavily. “There will have to be a Comanche leader who has the foresight to lead the people to peace instead of war. White Eagle is old and alone.” Later, as Zack and Deborah walked to the crest of a rolling swell of land, she asked softly, “Do you miss living with the Comanche?”
“At times,” he answered honestly. “It was a simple way of life. And free.
We followed the buffalo, or the wind.”
“Freedom is costly,” Deborah murmured.
Zack stopped and turned her into his arms. His eyes burned into her, and he felt a growing constriction in his chest. He knew his voice was hoarse, raw, but he couldn’t help the emotion. His years of control vanished as if on the wind.
“All I need,” he said, “is right here in my arms. I have found it with you.
You are my wind, my freedom, my love.” He saw her eyes glaze with tears, and the polished sheen of her hair glowed under the setting sun with an underlying fire. Her arms came around him, and she fit against him as if she had been created for just that purpose.
“I will always love you, Zack Banning,” she said softly. “You are as wild and free as the hawk for which you were named, and I’ll stay with you forever.
Usúni
.” Bending his head, his dark hair brushed against her cheek as he kissed her, and overhead the cry of a hawk spiraled down in lilting waves.
To my readers—
This story was special to me, and I hope you found it to be special as well.
Sometimes, characters seem to take over. I found that to be true with these.
As I did my research for this story, I became quite involved with Hawk. He occupied my mind so much that I thought of him even when not writing. His situation was one a great many people of his time faced, and to some extent, may still face.
What intrigued me was the fact that though I live in a busy suburb, I became host to a hawk. This beautiful bird has shown up at my house on numerous occasions since I began this story, and I never knew when it would arrive or how long it would stay. I thought it unusual, and sometimes would begin my day wondering if the hawk would come today. I took it as a symbol, and when the hawk came to perch on my fence or in a tree in my backyard, I felt as if it would be a special day. And a special story.
I hope you think so, too. If you enjoyed Hawk and Deborah’s story and want to tell me about it, please write to me in care of: BELL BRIDGE BOOKS
PO Box 300921
Memphis, TN 38130
Coming Next From Virginia Brown
Capture the Wind