Part 25 (1/2)

aI would have sworn I was the one being teased,a Hawk said, his voice deep and rich with hidden laughter. Then Angelas hand moved inside his pocket and his breath caught.

aMy s.h.i.+rt pocket, Angel.a She smiled with an innocence that was belied by the dancing light of her eyes. Slowly, very slowly, she removed her hands from Hawkas pockets.

The insect repellent was indeed in the breast pocket of Hawkas cotton flannel s.h.i.+rt. She applied the pungent lotion to his exposed skin and to her own. Then she put the small squeeze bottle backa”in his front jeans pocket.

aThe repellent only works against insects,a Hawk pointed out.

aThatas a relief,a Angel said, smiling with an invitation that made his eyes gleam.

Then Angel turned and ran toward the raspberry brambles, making the silver bells at her ankle and wrist s.h.i.+ver with music.

For a moment Hawk stood and watched her graceful flight, aching with a hunger that went much deeper than the temporary urgency of desire. Then he began to run, moving lightly despite his burden.

Angel was soon lost to sight in the twists and turns of the bramble patch, but the sweet silver cries of the bells called to Hawk, telling him that she was close.

He caught up to Angel in a clearing where the raspberries had not yet grown. The air was thick with the delicate perfume of ripening fruit. Leaves s.h.i.+mmered and stirred lazily beneath a caressing wind. Canes laden with fruit arched richly against the cobalt sky, and the serrated green foliage quivered with golden sunlight.

aDerry was right,a Hawk said, turning to Angel. aYou know every beautiful place on the island. Or maybe itas simply that you bring beauty to every place you are.a aIt must be you,a Angel said, her voice husky. aI donat remember the homestead being like this before.a She took the buckets from his hand and waited while he spread the quilt and put the picnic basket in the shade. When he came back to her, she silently held out a bucket to him. Then she laced her fingers through Hawkas as she led him toward the bushes heavy with fruit.

aBerrying is a cross between clamming and crabbing,a Angel said. aLike crabs, raspberry bushes will get you if youare careless.a aNo free lunch?a suggested Hawk dryly.

aNo free lunch,a Angel agreed. aThe first rule of berrying is that if the fruit were easy to pick, something would have picked it already.a Hawk smiled slightly. aAny other rules?a aDonat eat more than one berry for every one you put in the bucket. Otherwise youall get sick.a aLearned that the hard way, didnat you?a Hawk guessed.

aIs there any other way to learn?a Angel showed Hawk how to choose the best fruit, ripe without being mushy, tart without being green. They picked side by side, sharing a companionable silence.

aIs this one ripe?a Hawk asked finally, holding out a berry to Angel.

aOnly one way to be sure.a Angel opened her mouth expectantly. Smiling, Hawk fed her the berry. She made a clicking sound with her tongue.

aA bit tart,a she said.

Angel looked at a cl.u.s.ter of raspberries hanging from a nearby cane. Picking the most perfect berry, she turned back to Hawk.

aTry this one,a she offered.

Hawk sucked the raspberry from Angelas fingertips, licking her skin as he did. He closed his eyes and made a sound of pleasure.

aIt tastes like you,a he murmured. aIncredible.a Hawk opened his mouth again in silent request. Angel popped in another berry. He opened his mouth again, and then again, until she laughed and stood on tiptoe, kissing him.

The taste of Hawk and raspberries swept over Angelas senses. Suddenly she clung to him, kissing him as wildly as he had kissed her on Eagle Head. When the embrace finally ended, they both were breathing raggedly.

aHow many more berries does Mrs. Carey need?a asked Hawk, his eyes a clear brown fire.

aBuckets and buckets.a Hawk swore softly.

aThen wead better get to it,a he said, reluctantly stepping back from Angel.

They returned to picking, working quickly, watching each other with secret, sidelong glances. They filled their buckets, emptied them into a larger container, and returned to picking.

aYouare eating more than youare putting in the bucket,a Angel said after a time.

Hawk turned toward her. His mouth was stained with the rich juice of the fruit he had been sneaking like a child.

aBut if I get sick,a he said, aIall have something better than a hot water bottle to curl up with.a Smiling, Hawk and Angel both returned to picking. Then Angel found an extraordinary raspberry. Full, richly colored, all but bursting with sweetness, the berry glowed like a jewel in her palm. She set down her bucket and ran to Hawk.

aThis is the most perfect raspberry Iave ever seen,a Angel said, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. aOpen up.a Hawk looked at the transparent red juice staining Angelas lips rather than at the berry.

aYou found it,a he said. aIt should be for you.a aItas got your name on it.a The corners of Hawkas mouth curled up gently. He looked at the bright, unblemished berry.

aI donat see my name,a he said.

aThe light must be wrong for you,a Angel said, letting the raspberry roll down and nestle in her palm. aSee? Right there. Your name.a Hawk looked, but he saw only the love implicit in Angelas gift. Slowly he bent his head. He licked the berry from her palm, then kissed the spot where the fruit had rested.

The ache Hawk felt slicing through him had nothing to do with desire, and everything to do with the angel who watched him with love in her eyes.

Hawk wanted to ask where Angelas softness and strength had come from, to delicately touch every secret of her past and future, to know if he could ever love as she did, sweetness and fire and courage in equal measure. Yet even as he opened his mouth, he knew he couldnat ask that of her.

So Hawk asked the only question he could, and Angel heard the other question beneath it, the one he couldnat ask.

aAre these wild raspberries?a Hawk asked, looking at the thicket that all but surrounded him.

aNo. Theyare like a house cat that has gone feral,a Angel said. aBred and created by man, for man, and then abandoned to live alone. Most things that are treated like that wither and die. Some things survive . . . and in the right season the strongest of the survivors bear a sweet, wild fruit that is the most beautiful thing on earth. Like you, Hawk.a Hawk let the bucket of raspberries slip from his hand. He picked up Angel in a single, swift movement, and then he held her tightly, saying all that he could, her name a song on his lips until his mouth found hers in a kiss that left both of them shaking.

He carried her to the quilt and undressed her as though it were the first time, his hands exquisitely gentle, his mouth a sweet fire consuming her. When she could bear no more he came to her, filling her mind and her body, loving her in the only way he could.

It was the same later that night, a beauty that destroyed and created Angel, death and rebirth in the arms of the man she loved. She touched Hawk equally, fire and hunger, the promise of her mouth both hot and sweet, innocent and knowing, wors.h.i.+pping his body until he pulled her around him and was burned to his soul by an angelas ecstatic fire.

Long after Angel fell asleep in his arms, Hawk lay awake, watching the patterns of moonlight and darkness beyond Angelas windows. Then he slowly eased away from her, holding his breath for fear that she would wake.

If she awakened, Hawk wouldnat have the strength to leave her. He would stay and stay, drinking from the well of her love, giving nothing in return.

If I stay, Iall destroy her.

For long, long minutes, Hawk stood beside the bed and watched his angel sleep. He bent down, aching to touch her, but did not. His hand hesitated over the pillow next to her head.

Then Hawk turned and walked soundlessly out of the house, into the night.

Sunlight woke Angel, sunlight spilling in golden magnificence across her pillow. She murmured sleepily and reached for Hawk. Her hand touched emptiness. She sat up quickly, looking around. And then she froze.

Resting on Hawkas pillow was a small candy cane wrapped with a s.h.i.+ny green ribbon.

Angel put her head in her hands and wept, knowing that Hawk had gone.

26.

Derry looked at Angelas wan face and determined smile.