Under Hawk's Wing
Everyone in town knows wealthy Gillian Hughes is a spoiled daddy's girl. When she's arrested for staging a public protest to a social injustice, no one is more surprised than Hawk Carter. Is there more to the society princess than meets the eye? The young lawyer would just as soon not find out. But Gillian's been sentenced to community service on the local Indian reservation--and her doting dad has elected Hawk to keep an eye on the errant heiress.
Gillian vows that no one will ever control her again.
Not her father, not the judge, and certainly not a hunky Native American
Attorney whose Harvard education and imported suits surely mean he's turned
his back on his proud heritage. But Gillian soon suspects that Hawk might
not be a shallow social climber after all. Unless she's mistaken, he really
does care deeply about his people, his career--maybe even about Gillian
herself...
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Read an Excerpt;
"Do you have anything you would like to say before sentencing?" Judge Miller asked.
Gillian Hughes stared at the stony face of the black robed man sitting on the high bench. His toupee lifted slightly off his head as he glared down at her and it was all she could do to contain a nervous laugh. Was this man, her father's friend and colleague, the same towering figure who had frightened her so much as a child?
She knew her father was present in the courtroom, waiting for her to beg for his help. Justice Aaron Hughes was a powerful force. The presiding judge might be passing sentence, but her punishment had been decided before she arrived for the hearing.
Stand up for what you believe in. That's what made this country great. Those values her father had expounded to her were obviously nothing more than empty platitudes. Aaron was furious that she had actually taken a stand. Perhaps it had been extreme to shackle herself to the gates of the Superior Fruit Packing Plant to protest the unfair treatment of migrant workers, but it did draw the attention of the media--much to the chagrin of her image-conscious father.
Sucking in a gulp of stale air, she fought the urge to do what everyone expected Butler Square's society princess to do: Go running to Daddy to get her out of trouble.
"Miss Hughes?" Judge Miller cleared his throat. Apparently his earlier question had not been rhetorical. "Did you have something you wanted to say?"
Gillian rolled her eyes. The tower clock of the old building rang twelve times. When would this farce end?
Miller gestured helplessly to Justice Hughes. She glanced over her shoulder to look at her father. A gasp caught in her throat when she saw the man seated beside him. What was Thomas Carter doing here?
Her few meetings with the brilliant attorney in the past had been forgettable, at best. At least on his part. Despite her best efforts, he had never shown her more than the polite respect due a business associate's daughter. She hardly thought him a close enough confidant of her father to warrant his attention at her sentencing.
"Miss Hughes?"
Justice Miller's voice gained her attention. Why should she care why Mr. Carter, or anyone else was present? Nothing would change the outcome. "Yes, Your Honor?'
"Was there something you wanted to say?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well?" Miller urged.
"Your toupee is slipping off... Your Honor."
A thunderous laughter arose in the courtroom. Miller banged his gavel to restore order and quickly adjusted the hairpiece on the top of his head. "One more outburst like that young lady and I'll hold you in contempt of court."
He couldn't hold her in any deeper contempt than she already felt for this kangaroo court. She expected to be punished for her offense. However, the sentence being handed out today was not for the misdemeanor crimes for which she'd been charged. No, she was being punished for the unpardonable sin of publicly taking a stand and using her family name to bring attention to an injustice.
A painful lump formed in her throat, threatening to choke her. She wasn't sorry for her actions. She had believed passionately in the cause. The end of innocence, however, was worth a tear or two. She was not daddy's little princess anymore and he was no longer her knight in shining armor.
"If that's all, Miss Hughes, I sentence you to two hundred hours of community service. Starting next Monday you will be expected to report to the adult learning center on the Iroquois reservation where you will teach an adult class in basic computers."
Gillian felt the air go out of her body. "You can't do that. The reservation is an hour's trip." And that was with a car. Since her very public arrest, her father had taken away the car he had given her as a college graduation gift, hoping it would force her to move home, where he would have control over her life again.
Judge Miller smiled. "In the interest of justice, I can do anything I want. If you fail to report you will be found in contempt of this court and a warrant will be issued for your arrest. I understand that Mr. Carter has generously offered you the use of a house on the reservation if you find the daily bus commute too difficult."
Now she understood why Thomas Carter was present. But, what had he gotten out of the deal? Her father never asked for favors, he called in markers.
She turned slowly and glared at her father's accomplice. Hawk Carter as he was better known, had been the source of many unladylike thoughts and deeds among her friends. Rumor had it that he had caused more than one former debutante to forget her Mayflower Society upbringing.
Even she had not been immune. His rugged good looks and lean, muscular body were a glowing tribute to his Iroquois heritage. On the outside, he was as smooth as his raven colored hair, but beneath his black Italian suit lurked a savage hunter who stalked his prey in the courtrooms of New York State.
* * * *
Hawk leaned back against the hard wooden bench and groaned. He had fully expected Gillian Hughes to break down in tears and beg for her father's help. By Aaron's stunned silence, Hawk guessed the older man had expected that, too. Instead, she turned towards her father and met his obstinate glare with one of her own.
"I guess fighting for worthy causes only applies if they're your worthy causes," she said softly. A flicker of emotion sparked in her eyes and just as quickly disappeared. Head held high, she left the courtroom. Her corn silk hair swayed across her back as she walked.
He watched her graceful retreat until she disappeared between the massive oak doors. Now, that was class, he thought. Her pampered way of life had just been sent into a tailspin and she hadn't batted even one of her long lashes. She had the same stubborn determination as her father, but how long could she keep it up? He gave her two weeks before she would do anything to leave the reservation.
"She'll be home before nightfall," Aaron said. "She doesn't even like the dark, let alone living in a strange place."
"And if you're wrong, Sir?" The last thing Hawk needed was a society princess fumbling around on the reservation. They had enough problems there already, with the almost daily arguments erupting over the negotiations for a proposed casino.
"Oh, come on Thomas. You said yourself that they needed qualified teachers. Gillian is nothing if not qualified. I have the college bills to prove it."
He shook his head. Aaron might not know his own daughter as well as he thought. This whole situation could have been avoided if she had asked for her father's help to begin with.
"I understand your position, Sir, but they need a teacher who will finish out the ten week course. If she leaves early, what happens to the class?"
"You don't know Gillian the way I do. I spoiled her. Since she has no other family, she is too used to getting her own way. She will come to her senses today or she will complete the job. Either way, I win. If I can keep her away from that rowdy crowd she took up with in college, then she'll turn out the better for the experience."
Hawk had heard stories about Gillian's wild escapades in the past six months. Until that time, she had been a model daughter, serving as her father's hostess at business affairs, attending all the socially correct charity functions.
"I can only make sure that she appears each day for the classes. I can't force her to stay there the rest of the time," Hawk reminded him.
Aaron shrugged. "I don't see that she has much choice. Without her car, it's a difficult commute. She can't afford to hire a limo either since I control her trust fund until her twenty-fifth birthday."
"There are buses," Hawk said, but he would bet that Judge Hughes and his daughter had never used public transportation in their lives. "Or she might arrange something with a friend."
"So, schedule the classes in the middle of the day, making her free hours damned inconvenient."
"I have no control over that."
"Arrange it," Aaron order as if he were talking to some court clerk. "Explain that they want my support in their negotiations with the governor and I would consider this a personal favor."
The none too subtle reminder that he wanted help from Judge Hughes made Hawk wonder if, like Faust, he had sold his soul to the devil. The casino project was too important to the economical survival of the tribe. Like it or not, he had to deal with the manipulative judge.