A Mating of Hawks Read Online Free Page A

I’m doing!” He glared at Geronimo with one sightless eye. “Hey, Ronnie, make me a drink, will you? You’re the only one puts in enough tequila.”
    â€œIt’s time for your lunch, dear,” Vashti protested.
    â€œIt’s time for a drink,” Patrick grunted. “Anyone else want one?”
    â€œThere’ll be wine at lunch,” Vashti said with a pained frown.
    â€œWe’ll drink with you, Dad,” said Shea, and moved over to the bar opposite the beehive fireplace, which was faced by several heavy leather chairs and a massive couch. Christina’s piano faced the window.
    Patrick reached out. Quickly, Tracy took his hand. “You back for good, honey? Got enough breathing those exhaust fumes?”
    â€œI can stay till you’re up and rambunctious again. I sublet my apartment and quit the paper, though they’ll buy some features.”
    â€œI never could fathom why you wanted to take such a job anyway,” Vashti grimaced with a shake of her head that made jade earrings swing. “Poking into grubby places, meeting weird people—”
    â€œYes,” agreed Tracy. “Some of those society weddings and benefit galas were pretty weird. I like doing an occasional article, but I’ve decided to concentrate on children’s books. Mostly photos with a little text.”
    â€œI can’t think what you’ll find to photograph around here,” said Vashti with a lift of dark eyebrows.
    â€œWhy, there’s horses and cows!” roared Patrick. “Nothing on God’s earth prettier than a little foal. And vaqueros mounted up, cattle in good graze, mesquites greening after a hard winter, a full water tank after a rain—where you going to find things better than that?”
    â€œNow, darling, don’t get all worked up,” soothed Vashti. “Most children live in cities, you know. I should expect them to be more interested in sports, moon flights, things like that.”
    â€œI did some market research at libraries in Houston, seeing what kids actually read, rather than what adults thought they should.” Tracy laughed, squeezing Patrick’s hand. “The age I’m thinking of was very big on dinosaurs.”
    â€œThen Gila monsters and chuckwallas ought to go over real big,” chortled Patrick. Tracy stepped back so Geronimo could put a glass in his hand and the old rancher peered uselessly toward the young men. “You lads got your drinks?”
    â€œYou bet,” said Geronimo, taking an iced beer from Shea, who held its twin.
    â€œYou, Tracy?”
    â€œI’ll just have a sip of yours, Patrick.”
    He lifted the amber Mexican glass, iceless since he claimed that was the only way to drink tequila. “Happy days!”
    â€œHappy days,” echoed the young men.
    Tracy bent to drink from her great-uncle’s glass. “Happy days,” she told him.
    He moved his thumb against her cheek. “I’ve missed you, honey. Glad you’re back.”
    She kissed him in answer. He looked exhausted. Vashti took charge, straightening the coverlet. “I’ll send up a tray, dear, after you’ve had a little rest. If the rest of you will come down, Henri should have lunch ready.”
    â€œNo offense to Henry,” muttered Patrick. “But tell Concha to rustle me up some steak and biscuits. And a bowl of chili or posole if she’s got some made.”
    â€œOh, she’ll have some,” predicted Vashti irritably. “The only reason we keep her is to cook for you.”
    â€œBest reason there is,” Shea remarked. He clasped his father’s hand. “See you later, Dad.”
    â€œListen, boy, we need to have a talk.” The old man almost clung to his son’s scarred hand. “Judd tells me you’re not running a single head of cattle on El Charco. Or on the grazing lease!”
    â€œSounds like for once Judd’s got the straight