Nighthawk's Child. Linda TurnerЧитать онлайн книгу.
clear that he wanted nothing to do with his Native American heritage.”
Summer winced. “It was the poverty he hated, Janet. The lack of hope.”
She disagreed. “It was the white man’s way he admired, the white man’s world of money and success and fair skin that he wanted, and as soon as he was old enough, that’s what he went after. He doesn’t care about us. Why should we care about him?”
She had a point, one that Summer couldn’t, regrettably, argue with. It was common knowledge that Gavin’s parents had raised him to want a life different from the one found on the reservation. And while there was nothing wrong with encouraging him to be ambitious, they’d gone too far. He’d never been content with who and what he was, and the end result was that he was a man who fit neither in the white man’s world he sought nor the Native American heritage to which he was born.
And Summer found that incredibly sad. She walked with ease in both worlds and was accepted everywhere she went. She couldn’t imagine what life must be like for Gavin, and her heart ached for him. He’d rejected his own people and didn’t have a clue what he’d given up.
“He made some mistakes,” she acknowledged. “Some big ones. But I can’t say that I wouldn’t have made the same ones if I’d been raised the way he was.”
“You would have never turned your back on us the way he has,” Janet said indignantly, her dark eyes flashing. “You’re not that way.”
“I might have been if Aunt Celeste and Aunt Yvette had only cared about money. So don’t judge Gavin too harshly,” she cautioned. “None of us know how we would have turned out given the same circumstances. And think about this. If we turn our back on him when he’s in the worst trouble of his life, what does that say about us?”
Put that way, there was little the old woman could say. “You are wise beyond your years,” she replied with a grimace of a smile. “I will try to remember the disservice his parents did him and not judge him too harshly, but I doubt that the rest of our people will do the same. It galls many of them that he hasn’t even offered to help you at your clinic. The work you do there is just as important as what he does at the hospital, and you could use his help.”
“He’s got enough on his plate right now without worrying about whether I could use an extra pair of hands at the clinic,” she said dryly. “Anyway, I’m handling things just fine. Opening the clinic was one of the best things I ever did.”
“You’re working too hard.”
Summer grinned. “It’s not work when you love what you’re doing.”
“It is when that’s all you do,” she argued sagely. “There’s more to life than taking care of sick people. You’re a pretty young woman. When was the last time you went out to dinner with a nice, good-looking man? Every girl needs some romance to make her heart sing.”
Summer couldn’t help but smile fondly. Janet was just like all the other tribal elders—they all felt, because they cared about her, that they had a right to dabble in her love life. Or her lack of one, she ruefully added. Not that she was looking for a man. Her work was all that she needed, the only thing she wanted, but no one could seem to understand that.
“I appreciate the concern, Janet, but I don’t have time for romance.”
“You would if you didn’t work so much. Or take on other people’s problems—like Gavin Nighthawk’s. You are going to help him, aren’t you?”
Put on the spot, she couldn’t deny it. “If the opportunity presents itself. My conscience won’t let me do anything else.”
Not surprised, Janet sighed heavily as Summer began to repack her medical bag. “I knew you would. You always did worry about other people more than you worried about yourself. Your mother would be proud of you.”
The unexpected words of praise brought the sudden sharp sting of tears to Summer’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said huskily. “I like to think she would be.”
“Just watch yourself, okay? You’re such a tender-hearted soul and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“By Gavin?” she said, surprised. “For heaven’s sake, Janet, we’re barely friends. The only reason I’m going to help him is because I can’t stand by and let an innocent man go to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“Just remember that that ‘innocent’ man likes blond white women. Don’t let him break your heart.”
Summer promised her she had no intention of letting him or any other man do any such thing, but on the way back to her clinic, she almost laughed at the very idea of Gavin looking at her as anything but another doctor. Granted, there was a connection between them that she couldn’t explain, but there wasn’t anything the least bit romantic about it. They just came from the same background.
That was all it was, she assured herself. He looked at her and saw the girl from a past he wanted to forget, a girl who’d eagerly absorbed all the ancient knowledge the reservation had to offer. And every time her eyes fell on his chiseled features, she was reminded of the silent, brooding boy who’d walked alone across land that she loved.
Decades later, he was still walking alone, and it was that, more than anything, that tore at her heart. Everyone needed someone to talk to, to forget their troubles with, to vent to, and Gavin seemed to have no one, not even family. Long ago, he’d walked away from the people who could have at least offered him emotional support now, and there was no way to turn back the clock. He was in the worst trouble of his life, and he had no one.
Except her.
That caught her by surprise, and she immediately tried to reject the idea. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Janet that they were barely friends. He hadn’t asked for her help and didn’t want it. She would do well to remember that.
But all the way back to the clinic, all she could think of was Gavin and the look on his face at the Hip Hop when he’d heard the things being said about him. With every snide remark, his expression had grown colder and more remote, and all Summer could think of was that he must have suffered the same verbal abuse everywhere he went from the day he was charged with Christina’s murder.
Dear God, how had he stood it?
Haunted by the image of his loneliness, she slept little that night. He was innocent. Deep down in her heart, she knew that as surely as she knew that he wouldn’t thank her for interfering in his life. Still, she couldn’t worry about that. She didn’t care if he ended up hating her guts, she had to find a way to help him. The question was…how?
The answer came to her with the rising of the morning sun. Already hard at work at the hospital, her eyes sandy from lack of sleep, she was examining a newborn in Pedi ICU when an idea popped full-blown into her head. Stunned by the very outrageousness of it, she stopped in her tracks and told herself it would never work. He would think she’d lost her mind, and she couldn’t say she’d blame him. So would everybody else.
Sure she was suffering from sleep deprivation, she tried to dismiss the idea and concentrate on her work instead, but she was fighting a losing battle. The idea stuck like a burr to her imagination, and with no effort whatsoever, she could see it working. She could help him. All she had to do was explain the idea to him and persuade him to give her a chance.
Yeah, right, she thought derisively. When pigs could fly. Don’t even think about going there, she warned herself. Even if he didn’t laugh in her face, he would never go for it. If she wanted to save them both some grief, she’d forget the whole thing.
She should have. It would have been the wisest course of action. But she didn’t, unfortunately, always do the wise thing. Instead she followed her heart and dared to take a chance. The decision made with no conscious effort on her part, she found herself heading for his house at the end of her shift and knew she had no other choice.
His house wasn’t in one of the more affluent subdivisions