In Hawke's Eyes

In Hawke’s Eyes

By

Tressie Lockwood

Copyright © November 2012, Tressie Lockwood

Cover art designed by Fiona Jayde © November 2012

Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

ISBN 978-1-937394-74-5

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

Amira Press

Charlotte, NC

www.amirapress.com

Prologue

Stephanie yawned and reached for her cup of coffee to take a sip. She knew she shouldn’t have the caffeine so late in the day, but she had work to do when she got home, and she’d already put in eight hours on the day job. Not that she complained, of course. All she did, she did for Meechi. Maybe she should ease up on the pride and use some of Meechi’s money, but somehow it seemed wrong. A pinch here and there to buy her daughter some extra items was all she could allow. The rest was up to her to provide for her little one. As long as Meechi had food, clothes, and shelter, that was enough. They didn’t need to live in the lap of luxury.

Just thinking of that lifestyle got her back up. Not so much what money could buy, rather the people it had bought and the fact that Meechi’s grandmother thought she was one of them. Well she could keep thinking it, and Stephanie would have nothing to do with any of them. Meechi, when she turned twenty-one, could make her own decisions regarding her father’s family.

A light rain began to fall, so she flipped the windshield wipers on. She checked the time. At just after six, she needed to get a move on. Meechi insisted she was old enough to go straight home after school, but Stephanie kept her ten year old at the daycare center she had used since her daughter was five. Her baby might be growing up, but she wasn’t there yet.

Stephanie stepped on the gas and punched it to sixty-five in a fifty-five mile zone. That wasn’t so bad, and the narrow back road was all country with light traffic. She hadn’t come across anyone for several miles now. As if she called him by thinking it, another driver crested the slight incline in the distance. No light on the top of the vehicle, Stephanie didn’t bother slowing down, but when the car veered onto her side of the street, her chest muscles constricted.

“What the hell? Get on your own side, you idiot.”

She pressed the break and pounded on the horn. The car veered back on his side, but she lowered her speed anyway. Less than a quarter mile away, the car veered again, and everything around her seemed to slow down. She flicked a glance to her rearview, pressed harder on the break, and searched her mind for solutions if the other driver didn’t alter his course.

Stephanie pulled to the opposite side of the road, but the other car moved to that side as well. She swerved over the yellow lines. The other driver veered back and forth.

Drunk
, she thought in a panic.

With a last ditch effort, she left the road and drove in the dirt on the shoulder and bounced to a halt, her heart hammering. Stephanie put a hand up to her head and shut her eyes. The harsh cry of a bird somewhere nearby startled her, and she looked up in time to see the car coming at her.

“No!” She screamed, and the sound of crunching metal and fiberglass filled her mind. Glass shattered, and pain tore through her body. She tried sucking in a breath, but it hurt to breathe. Her head spun like a top, and darkness descended.

The next time she opened her eyes, she whimpered in pain. Her blurred vision didn’t allow her to see much, but someone held her in his arms. His deep, comforting voice soothed the panic to some degree.

“Meechi,” she whispered. “She’s waiting for me.”

“Everything will be okay,” the man said.

Stephanie had trouble holding her head up as it lolled against the man’s chest, a bare chest, if she wasn’t mistaken. Who would be out in this chilly, wet weather without a shirt on? Her fingers brushed dirt, and pain shot up her arm. She cried out, and he begged her forgiveness.

“It hurts. I think there’s glass in my eyes. I can’t see.”

“Hold on,” he encouraged her. “Just hold on a little while longer.”

Chapter One

Seven months later…

Stephanie bent closer to the paper until her nose touched, but it made no difference. She could not make out the words. She grumbled in annoyance. “Meechi, come here a minute, please.”

Her daughter appeared at the entrance to her room, which looked like it had thrown up the color pink on every spot. Or rather it did to
her
now that she couldn’t see the distinctive designs very well. “Mommie, I’m right in the middle of the good part.”

Stephanie raised a single eyebrow. “Excuse me, miss? I think you better check the attitude and come help me.
Now
.”

Her daughter pressed her lips together and set the book in her hand aside. Then she hurried over to Stephanie. “Sorry, Mommie.”

“That’s better. Now, what time does it say this program begins?” She handed the page to Meechi.

“It says seven o’clock. Are you really going to that, Mommie? You can’t even see the costumes.”

“But I’ll be able to hear the music.” Stephanie smiled. “Everything has been put on hold, but this is the one thing I can enjoy.”

“You still write in your notebook,” her daughter suggested.

Stephanie hugged her. Meechi was a typical child with little patience for anything other than her interests, but at least she tried to help Stephanie with the little things she had trouble with. She didn’t know what she’d have done if the accident happened when Meechi was an infant. A shiver raced over her skin, drawing goose bumps.
And that man…

Stephanie had inquired about who pulled her from her car and called an ambulance for her, but no one had any info. He disappeared after making sure she would get help, and that was the last she heard from him. Either way, he had her gratitude.

The TV blared in the background while Stephanie went about finding clothes to wear to the play. She liked to listen to her shows while straightening the apartment, and when Meechi read from her endless supply of books, Stephanie sat as close as she wanted to the screen. In that way, she could just make out what was going on. With her writing, she’d had to switch from notebook paper to drawing paper because she couldn’t see the lines. She made sure to make her letters large and to keep the lines straight. What she missed most of all being legally blind was seeing Meechi’s sweet face. She encouraged herself with the fact that it wouldn’t be much longer until she had surgery and could see again.

By six, Stephanie was dressed for her rare evening out, and kissing Meechi good-bye. “Don’t stay up late reading. I know how you are.”

Meechi peered up at her, she knew, with wide, innocent eyes. Stephanie couldn’t help kissing her again.

As she stepped from the building and strolled toward the taxi, Stephanie had the feeling someone watched her. She paused and scanned the area. Shapes, colors, and shadows were all she could make out. She heard the neighborhood kids playing on the opposite side of the street. Someone strolled along the walk not far away, but it didn’t appear that they paid her any mind. Maybe paranoia had set in after the accident and because of her limited vision. This was why she liked to get past her fears and go out sometimes, to shake off that helpless sensation.

She jumped into the waiting taxi and settled back with a smile. She loved jazz music, and tonight was a special treat. At the club, she paid the driver and stepped out of the vehicle. A bevy of voices rose around her, and shadows moved in and out of the light. She stood still to get her bearings. A breeze raised her dress hem a little when the taxi sped off.

Nerves stirred in Stephanie’s belly. Which way was the entrance to the club?
Crap, I should have thought of that.
A familiar scent wafted on the air, and she breathed it in, trying to identify it. Definitely a man, and while he wore a touch of cologne, it wasn’t what she found recognizable. The man himself, his essence, captured her attention. The shadows shifted once again, and this time, brought a huge bulk in front of her. She knew he stood before her. When he spoke, his deep voice sent chills racing each other down her spine.

“May I help you to where you’re going?”

Stephanie raised her gaze from the ground to somewhere near the top of his head. She had to crane her neck to reach it and would have given her right arm to see him clearly. He didn’t sound like a serial killer. In fact, his somber, yet polite tone sounded yummy, and from the extent of his shoulders, she guessed he was built. Desire that had been dormant for the most part since her husband died rose up inside her, and she put out a hand to him.

“Thanks. Um, how did you know I couldn’t see?”

He took her hand in his, and she almost creamed her panties.

“A guess.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and turned toward the building. “My name is Hawke Cooper, by the way.”

“Stephanie Martin. It’s good to meet you, and thank you for helping me. I’m sure I would have found my way eventually.” She let out a small, nervous laugh. “Crap, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m glad to have help. I just…”

“Like to keep your independence? I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

They passed through the door with him holding it open for her to go ahead. As soon as they were inside, he took her hand again. She couldn’t find it in her to pull away. Heck, being the poor little blind woman wasn’t bad when it brought men like him near—at least for tonight.

“I don’t want to offend your girlfriend or wife clinging to you and all,” she said with heavy suggestion.

He chuckled, and she was almost lost in the sound. “I have neither, and I assume you’re here alone because if you were mine, I wouldn’t let you stray from my side for more than an instant.”

She caught her breath. “I should tell you I have two big brothers who will kick your ass if you try anything.”

“Then I’ll be on my best behavior.”

She grinned. “You’re assuming I will let you sit with me during the performance.”

He leaned in so close, she could almost make out his features. A slash of green at the eyes stirred her heart and revved it to a faster beat. He didn’t touch her, and yet he might as well have with the heat engulfing her entire being.

“I would never push into where I’m not wanted. However, given the chance, I can be your eyes. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight,” she repeated like an idiot. She turned her head and lowered her lashes to get a grip. “Might be fun.”

Stephanie’s offhand comment attempted to hide her physical response to him, and it annoyed her that she couldn’t tell if he picked up on her reaction. Either way, she walked beside him, and they found a table toward the front of the room. While the band played, performers danced, and Hawke described to her what he saw. His description was such that Stephanie brought the image to her mind. She closed her eyes to shut out the blurred colors and leaned solely on Hawke’s words. Music mingled with his narration and twirled in her mind’s eye, while contentment had her almost resting on his chest. When the players broke for intermission, she realized her position and sat upright.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“I can’t complain about a beautiful woman being so close.”

She blushed. “Thank you. I think there’s a thirty-minute break, so I’m going to have a drink. Can I buy you one?”

She expected him to say no, being a proud man, but he accepted, and she liked him even more. Around them conversation rose as other patrons chatted during the break. Stephanie took the opportunity to get to know her companion for the evening.

“So tell me, why haven’t you been snatched up?” She’d never been a shy woman. “I can feel from touching your arm that you’re built, and your voice is sexy. I’m assuming you’re handsome.”