Page 3 of Natalie's Nighthawk

“I’ve got my sketchbook here.” She reached in her bag and pulled out a large leather-bound book.

He opened it and glanced through. The first few pages were close-up drawings of eyes and wings, breathtaking in their detail. Each tiny, delicate line in the feathers was precise. And the eyes … it was incredible that she’d captured a reflection in an eye … with a pencil.

Then came the sketches of the birds; some perched on branches, others wings spread wide in flight. Drawings so fine and intricate that they looked ready to fly off the page.

“My new favorite subject right now is birds. I love all the fine lines in the feathers. And the eyes! Bird’s eyes always seem to hold the knowledge of the world. Fascinating creatures.” Her voice faltered, a blush hitting her cheeks. Eyes drawn to the soft color traveling up her face from her chest, she was the fascinating creature.

He tore his gaze away from her and flipped to another page in the book. This bird was smaller and perched on the side of a tree about to take off. Mostly brown and white with a black cap on its head, its feathers so finely detailed he ran his finger over them as if to feel their softness.

“Chickadee,” she explained. “He’s my favorite. In part, because I just like saying ‘chickadee.’ But also because of how small they are. Their coloring is so striking, with the little black cap.”Just like her with her cap of dark hair.

He gaped at her in incredulity. “These are amazing! I didn’t realize how talented you are. You should sell these! I bet people would buy them by the dozens.”

She looked out at the dark clouds that were approaching across the water with a far-off dreamy look. She smiled shyly at him, swiping a loose strand of hair behind her ear with pencil smudged fingers. “Maybe someday.”

The pair spent the next hour talking. Natalie had never chatted so freely with a boy before, and he wasn’t shy about sharing things with her. They talked about everything, her art, his college prospects, their families, and their childhood memories of each other. It was a welcome distraction from the loneliness that usually plagued her, and she didn’t want it to end.

They drove home in silence; the storm they had watched approaching across the lake had finally caught up with them, forcing them to leave the beach. They were lost in their own thoughts as Graham drove; watching the sky turn an eerie green. The hairs on the back of Natalie’s neck rose as they got closer to their development, and the wind increasing dramatically. Graham battled the gusts to keep the car on the road. And then there it was, as they turned on to their cul-de-sac.

The tornado was immense, Natalie had never seen one this close before and it both fascinated and terrified her. Graham slammed on the brakes, bringing them to a skidding stop. They watched helplessly as the tornado spun closer to the houses on their street. Debris flew everywhere around them. Branches rained down on the car. Lawn chairs, plants, pots, and a trampoline flew past them. Anything in yards that hadn’t been tied down was now a projectile flying through the air. A large branch suddenly smashed into the front of the car, cracking its windshield. They jumped, and Graham threw the car into reverse to get away from the soaring debris as quickly as possible.

Still, their attention was on the spinning vortex. It passed quickly through Mrs. Thompson’s yard, turning suddenly as if to stroll down the sidewalk, directly toward their own houses at the end of the cul-de-sac.

Chapter 2

PresentDay

“Areyousureaboutthis?”Maddie asked, slamming the car door behind her. “What if he doesn’t help us?”

“He’ll help us.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.” As her sister gaped at her, Natalie took a deep breath and walked confidently to the door of the building that housed the headquarters of Nighthawk Search and Rescue.

Of course, Maddie was confused by her sudden confidence. It had been a long time since Natalie had shown anything close to confidence. But she had to at least appear that way. He had to help them; they were out of other options; they needed him.

“This was your idea, remember?” Natalie continued. “I had no idea this group even existed until you mentioned them.”

“I know. But they are big-league since the Marcus Rayne rescue. What makes you think they’ll help us with our problem?” Rayne was a famous actor who had made it big starring in a superhero movie. While hiking a few months ago, he’d had an accident and had needed to be rescued.

“They’ll have to.” Natalie paused with her hand on the door. He’d help her. She was sure of it. A tiny niggle of doubt crept in. It had been twelve years; he likely didn’t even remember her. She shook off the thought; it wasn’t about her. They needed help, and she wasn’t going to accept no for an answer. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door.

“Can I help you?” the young woman behind the desk asked as they entered.

Natalie glanced around the room, empty except for the desk the receptionist sat behind; the walls were full of large, framed photographs. One picture showed men in reflective vests and helmets carrying a stretcher down a forest trail. Another was of a similar group scaling a cliff with ropes and harnesses. Yet another focused on men in a large black inflatable motorized boat in what appeared to be a flooded-out neighborhood. Scattered among those were the typical “You can do it” inspirational posters.

“I’d like to speak to Graham, please.” Natalie wanted to take a closer look at a nearby shelf that held awards and brochures; a chance to learn about the man whose help she was seeking.

The petite blonde gave her a once-over before turning back to her computer. “Do you have an appointment? Mr. Whitaker is very busy today and doesn’t have time to meet with groupies.”

Natalie glanced at Maddie in confusion.Groupies?Maddie shrugged, just as confused.

“Um … I don’t think you understand.” Natalie’s confidence was dwindling as the blonde receptionist stared at her. “I’m a friend of Graham’s …”

“I’m sure you are,” the blonde gave them a cursory receptionist smile, barely suppressing her skepticism. “But Mr. Whitaker is currently in a session though I’d be happy to make an appointment for you.”

Exasperated with the woman’s dismissal, Natalie tried a different tactic. “You don’t understand. We need his help. Two little kids …”

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