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Authors: Jane Toombs
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over the bystanders. Something like Murdock. The two deserved each other.
Instead of tossing the whole thing in the trash, David put the note and clipping back in the envelope and placed it in the same folder as the anonymous New Mexico note. He checked the handwriting against the first note and saw many similarities. As he put the folder away he told himself if he ever needed to try to trace the note, he’d look up that juror first. In the meantime he’d keep both notes safe.
The clipping upset him, bringing back the bad days in New Mexico. Aunt Gert believed it was depressionthat drove him to Nevada, but what actually had made him leave was he’d been afraid he’d lose control and kill Murdock. Easy enough to do with the old Texas Colt his grandfather had left him along with the legacy.
Gradually he became aware of Hobo brushing against his legs, mewing plaintively, and he realized she needed to be fed. He focused his mind on the cat, saying, “Mothering’s a hungry job, right?”
While she was tucking into her food, he had a look at the kittens. All but the runt had their milky-blue eyes open. He cradled Sheba in the palm of his hand for a moment. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “You’ll catch up.”
Amy had told him unless they had some Siamese genes in their ancestry, their eyes would change color, to green or yellow. He tried to keep his mind from drifting back to the past, but holding the runt had reminded him of Sarah. What must she think, his poor little daughter, her father gone and her mother married to a stranger? He didn’t give a damn about Murdock being Iris’s husband, but it grated on him to think of the bastard taking his place as Sarah’s new father. He was still brooding about it when the phone rang.
“Hi,” Amy said. “Thanks for your offer to help me move on Saturday. I’ve got some boxes and things in the back of the SUV that I can’t carry alone, so I really do appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
“How’re the kittens?”
He told her.
“Well, guess I’ll see you Saturday, then,” Amy said. “Thanks again.”
He hung up, smiling. With Amy moving into his complex, anything might happen. And probably would, given their incendiary attraction.
The woman who cooked for Gert didn’t work weekends, so Amy helped make the pancake breakfast Saturday morning. David arrived in time to fry the bacon he insisted had to go with the pancakes.
“There’s going to be a powwow at the reservation in July,” Gert told them as they ate. “I told Grandfather we’d all be there.” She glanced at Amy. “I made the assumption you’d be interested. Forgive me if I was wrong.”
“You were right,” Amy said. “I’ve never been to a powwow. Or met a genuine Native American medicine man. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good. He’s looking forward to meeting you, too.”
Amy stared at Gert. “Me?”
“I called him last night and mentioned that I thought you were the second hawk, the female he dreamed about, so naturally he’s interested.”
At a loss, Amy echoed, “The second hawk?”
“He says David is the male hawk,” Gert answered.
Bewildered, Amy said, “I don’t think I understand.”
“You’ll have to wait until you meet Grandfather. It goes beyond the scope of science, but I’ve come to believe that he does have prophetic dreams.”
“He doesn’t even know me.”
“Makes no difference,” David said. “Grandfather is no ordinary man.”
“So you’ll be coming to the powwow, too,” Gert said.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” David told her.
When they finished eating, Amy started to help clean up, but Gert shooed her away. “You’ve got your own tasks to attend to today. I’ll just putter around here while you and David make the move. I know you want to be on your own, so would I in the same circumstances, but I’ll miss having you living here in the house. And, David, while Amy’s getting settled in, come back and pick up the things from the
Instead of tossing the whole thing in the trash, David put the note and clipping back in the envelope and placed it in the same folder as the anonymous New Mexico note. He checked the handwriting against the first note and saw many similarities. As he put the folder away he told himself if he ever needed to try to trace the note, he’d look up that juror first. In the meantime he’d keep both notes safe.
The clipping upset him, bringing back the bad days in New Mexico. Aunt Gert believed it was depressionthat drove him to Nevada, but what actually had made him leave was he’d been afraid he’d lose control and kill Murdock. Easy enough to do with the old Texas Colt his grandfather had left him along with the legacy.
Gradually he became aware of Hobo brushing against his legs, mewing plaintively, and he realized she needed to be fed. He focused his mind on the cat, saying, “Mothering’s a hungry job, right?”
While she was tucking into her food, he had a look at the kittens. All but the runt had their milky-blue eyes open. He cradled Sheba in the palm of his hand for a moment. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “You’ll catch up.”
Amy had told him unless they had some Siamese genes in their ancestry, their eyes would change color, to green or yellow. He tried to keep his mind from drifting back to the past, but holding the runt had reminded him of Sarah. What must she think, his poor little daughter, her father gone and her mother married to a stranger? He didn’t give a damn about Murdock being Iris’s husband, but it grated on him to think of the bastard taking his place as Sarah’s new father. He was still brooding about it when the phone rang.
“Hi,” Amy said. “Thanks for your offer to help me move on Saturday. I’ve got some boxes and things in the back of the SUV that I can’t carry alone, so I really do appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
“How’re the kittens?”
He told her.
“Well, guess I’ll see you Saturday, then,” Amy said. “Thanks again.”
He hung up, smiling. With Amy moving into his complex, anything might happen. And probably would, given their incendiary attraction.
The woman who cooked for Gert didn’t work weekends, so Amy helped make the pancake breakfast Saturday morning. David arrived in time to fry the bacon he insisted had to go with the pancakes.
“There’s going to be a powwow at the reservation in July,” Gert told them as they ate. “I told Grandfather we’d all be there.” She glanced at Amy. “I made the assumption you’d be interested. Forgive me if I was wrong.”
“You were right,” Amy said. “I’ve never been to a powwow. Or met a genuine Native American medicine man. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Good. He’s looking forward to meeting you, too.”
Amy stared at Gert. “Me?”
“I called him last night and mentioned that I thought you were the second hawk, the female he dreamed about, so naturally he’s interested.”
At a loss, Amy echoed, “The second hawk?”
“He says David is the male hawk,” Gert answered.
Bewildered, Amy said, “I don’t think I understand.”
“You’ll have to wait until you meet Grandfather. It goes beyond the scope of science, but I’ve come to believe that he does have prophetic dreams.”
“He doesn’t even know me.”
“Makes no difference,” David said. “Grandfather is no ordinary man.”
“So you’ll be coming to the powwow, too,” Gert said.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” David told her.
When they finished eating, Amy started to help clean up, but Gert shooed her away. “You’ve got your own tasks to attend to today. I’ll just putter around here while you and David make the move. I know you want to be on your own, so would I in the same circumstances, but I’ll miss having you living here in the house. And, David, while Amy’s getting settled in, come back and pick up the things from the
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