Chapter 2: How Heroes Behave

"So, who's the lucky girl?"

Deep in the Chicago night, Sam piloted the patrol car, his eyes hard on the neighborhood instead of his grinning partner. Deadpan, he said, "What girl?"

Clay chuckled. "Oh, come on…you're not wasting all that money every week just to hang out with the kids at Dreamcatcher. You've got some action going on."

A sudden wave of anger caught Sam by surprise. Jerking the wheel, he changed air lanes and headed south on Ashland Avenue. They passed over the Chicago River, sparkling in the moonlight. As the old Union Stockyards came into sight, Sam reminded himself that when it came to women, Clay had good reason to suspect loose behavior. But Jenny wasn't that sort of girl.

Suddenly Clay said, "Wait a minute…don't tell me. This one's really gotten to you!"

With a fresh surge of irritation, Sam snapped, "Drop it!"

The fact was, Jenny had "gotten" to him, and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Long ago, he had vowed never to marry anyone, yet the thought of Jenny entering a convent was unbearable. At least for now, that threat was on hold and her position at Dreamcatcher would continue on a probationary status. The staff had reconsidered Jenny's fate at the review, but Sam wondered what some other group would have decided—people whose lives were not bound by interlinking family ties that could be traced back to the old starship Enterprise. Jenny had no idea of the history that lay behind the staff's decision. There was a lot Sam had not told her.

oooo

Each week, Jenny dreamed the hours away as she eagerly awaited Sam's arrival. In the beginning, she had been wrong about him. She had allowed the past to color her feelings, but now she knew better. Not all cops threw their weight around. Why, Sam was as thoughtful and kind a fellow as she had ever known. Sure, and he was a handsome devil, too! They had made plans for tomorrow, the first of two wonderful days together. She wanted to spend every free moment with him, exploring the countryside on foot and on horseback, enjoying the fine June weather.

As Jenny finished up her last round of cleaning, Tru invited her into the adjoining quarters where she lived with Lame Wolf and the last of their three children. It was a cozy place, combining bright Native American décor with the watercolor paintings for which Tru was famous.

They were alone in the cottage, and Jenny felt a little uneasy as Tru offered her a chair and they sat opposite one another.

Tru cleared her throat and said, "You and Sam have been seeing a lot of each other."

Jenny could not stop herself from blushing. "I like him pretty well now. Guess you're glad about that."

But Tru did not look very glad at all. In fact, she was actually frowning. "Don't get me wrong; Sam's a good enough man. He's my brother and I love him, but…"

"Good enough?" Jenny shot back. Her heart was jumping. "Tru, what are you sayin'?"

Tru sighed and settled back in her chair. "It must be clear to you by now, Jenny. Sam…well, he knows his way around women."

Jenny let out a nervous laugh. "Aye, he's a charmer, for certain."

Tru wasn't smiling. "It's hard for me to say this, Jenny, but…there's been some talk among the boys. With Sam coming here so much, and the two of you pairing off all the time…going into the woods together. Well, you see…"

Jenny saw, alright. The cold suspicion in Tru's eyes made her bolt to her feet. "Oh, so ya believe the little gossips! You're accusin' Sam and me of…of carryin' on, right here under your very nose! How can ya think such a thing?"

"Now Jenny," Tru said softly, but it was clear that she had made up her mind.

Cut to the quick, Jenny stalked out and slammed the door.

Early next morning, she was still stewing about it when Sam came. There on the porch she threw herself into his arms, not caring the least bit who saw them. Sam hugged her long and hard before heading out behind the barn, where the strawberries were growing thick. Despite everyone's dark suspicions, Sam had never even kissed her, and as they walked along holding hands, she could not help imagining how wondrous it would feel. But the memory of Tru's words made even a kiss seem dirty.

Coming to a stop, she said it outright. "Sam. Your sister told me that…that everyone is thinkin'…" A tear spilled down her cheek and Sam captured it with a fingertip.

"Thinking what, Jenny?"

"Oh, Sam. She said the boys are thinkin' terrible things about us…and I can tell she's thinkin' the same."

He had such a stricken look that she almost wished she had kept her mouth shut. But Sam seemed more ashamed than angry as he said, "I can't really blame her. Jenny, I…I've had a lot to confess, when it comes to women."

The admission came as no surprise. A man with Sam's charm would have been seriously tempted, but the past didn't matter now. All that mattered to Jenny was the fire in her heart…and Lord willing, in his.

Gathering her courage, she finally uttered the precious words aloud. "Sam Kirk, I love ya'"

His face transformed with such happiness that Jenny forgot to breathe. Then his arms went around her and he kissed her mouth tenderly before declaring his own love.

oooo

Jenny loved him! Jenny Flynn loved him, and Sam felt like he was walking on air. Before the day was over, he came up with a plan to get them out from under the watchful gaze of his big sister. After making a preliminary call to Idaho, he found his angel tending to flowers in the chapel. She looked so sweet and pure that for a moment his resolve wavered. Did she really belong in a convent? What right had he to lure her away? What could he offer? The mere thought of marriage made his heart quake.

Then Jenny stepped down from the altar and saw him standing in the shadows. Her lovely face lit with delight and as she hurried toward him, the memory of their first kiss made Sam long for more. With an effort, he limited himself to an embrace. The intensity of his feelings made him glad they were here in the chapel, right under the Lord's eyes, instead of a more private place.

Sam drew her into a pew and they sat together. Her face was so trusting that he hesitated once again. What right did he have? But they had already come too far. He did not have the strength to end it now, not with his very soul hungering for her.

"Jenny," he began, "I'm thinking it might be better…all things considered…if I help you find a new place to live. A place where we can get together without worrying about what anyone thinks."

Looking serious, she nodded. "Aye."

"My mother lives in Idaho, out in the country, all by herself. She could use some help around the place and would pay you a little salary, plus room and board."

Jenny seemed astonished at the idea. "Your mither? And she knows…'bout you and me?"

Sam smiled. "Yes, but don't worry. I've promised her I'll be a perfect gentleman and I've assured her that you're a lady. She can't wait to meet you."

Jenny's slim dark brows drew together as she considered the offer. "Out in Idaho, ya say? With your mither." Then her lips twitched and she began to smile. "Alright then, Sam. Sure, and I'll give it a try."

All that remained was to inform Tru of the decision. Anticipating a lecture, Sam went alone to see his sister. It was no use defending his relationship with Jenny, so he merely laid out the facts as plainly as any police report.

Tru actually seemed relieved that Jenny was leaving. "Yes, it might be the best thing for everyone concerned…but using Mom's house? Sam, really."

Sam stood stiff with embarrassment. "Tru, it's not going to be like that."

"Sure, Sam." She sighed and gave him a hug. "No hard feelings, okay?"

oooo

Jenny was amazed at how easily she settled into the big log house with Sam's mother. Mrs. Kirk—or Antonia, as she preferred to be called—gave her a warm welcome and patiently taught her the daily round of work, both inside and out, where a decrepit old saddle horse was stabled. Jenny's roomy upstairs bedroom offered a breathtaking view of the rugged Sawtooth Mountains. Down in the rustic living room were photos of Sam and Tru as fair-haired toddlers, and later at their first Holy Communion, with little hands folded in prayer. It was plain to see where Tru got her artistic talent, for Antonia created beautiful oil paintings in the attic loft and sold them at her own gallery in town. Despite her fame, Sam's mother was a good, down-to-earth woman, a solid Catholic unafraid to be seen praying her rosary or reading the Bible. On Sundays, they attended Mass together at the church where Uncle Phineas had served as pastor until he retired. It gave Jenny a homey, comfortable feeling to walk the same aisles as her beloved uncle. It made her happy, too, knowing that this was where Sam had grown up.

The first time he beamed in from Chicago, Jenny ran to him with a happy kiss. "I'm so glad I came here. Your mither is a darlin'. Wait till ya see what we've been cookin' up."

"Potato salad?" he guessed in a fair imitation of her brogue. "With wee bits o' dill pickle?"

Pretending to take offense, she tossed her dark hair. "Ah Sam, you're such a tease! 'Tis chicken and dumplins!"

All three of them sat down for a pleasant meal, and it was clear to Jenny how much Sam's mother enjoyed having him around. But Jenny could hardly wait to get Sam all to herself. After dinner, the two of them went for a long walk down a forest trail, holding hands while the sun set. His strong grip made her feel cherished and safe.

Enjoying his nearness, she said, "I didn't know your mither was Hispanic. Your skin's a lot lighter than hers, and so is Tru's." Sam was so quiet, that she kept on talking. "I'm wonderin' about your family name, Kirk. Was your father from Scotland?"

Sam's hand tightened over hers. "No—he was from Iowa."

"And what sort o' work did he do?" She naturally spoke of him in the past tense, for it seemed clear that he had died years ago.

Sam was slow to answer. "He was…a…a ship's captain. Later on, he raised horses here." Stopping, he turned toward her, his face solemn in the dusk. "Don't ever mention him to Mom. Alright?"

"Of course, Sam, I'll be careful. If your Da was anything like you, she must still be mournin'." Jenny knew she had touched a nerve, and decided to change the subject. "Up at the house—I saw a picture of Lame Wolf when he was just a teenager, and Jamie with him."

Sam nodded and walked on. "My parents took in Lame Wolf back before I was born. For a while, we were raised like brothers. Jamie was Lame Wolf's best friend." He pointed with his free hand. "Jamie grew up just over those hills—his dad and stepmother still live there."

"Vulcans?"

"Half Vulcan. But Jamie's mother was completely human, so he's nearly all human himself."

Jenny found it hard to believe. "Sure, and he doesn't look it!"

Stepping carefully under a moonlit sky, they arrived back at the Kirk ranch. As they approached the house, the old horse nickered a greeting from the corral.

Jenny paused to gaze upward. Taking in a deep breath of cool air, she said, "Ah, will ya just look at those stars tonight!"

Sam did not even take a glance, and Jenny remembered other times in California when he seemed indifferent to the beautiful night sky.

"What," she quipped, "don't ya like stars?"

"Sure," he muttered darkly, "who wouldn't?"

Astonished, Jenny took both his hands and tried to make out his expression. "Sam Kirk, what's gotten into ya? Are ya pullin' me leg?"

He did not answer a word.

"Well!" She said, mystified. But then he kissed her and she forgot all about it.

oooo

All summer long, Sam's free time flashed by, while the workweek passed much too slowly. He could barely keep his mind on each shift, and later rattled around his apartment feeling lost and lonely. Day and night, the thought of Jenny consumed him. He wanted her…he needed her…right here at his side, always. Yet he could not bring himself to take that final, irrevocable step that would make Jenny Flynn his wife.

Each time Sam looked in the mirror, he saw his faithless father gazing back. It was the only place he ever saw him, for there was not a single photo of his dad in the apartment, or displayed in his mother's house, and even the old portrait was gone from its place of honor above her fireplace mantel. It was as if Jim Kirk had died. No, worse—it was as if he had never lived.

Meanwhile, Jenny was becoming ever more sensitive to Sam's moods. Time and time again she suspected that he was holding back secrets, but how could she complain when she had her own share of them? It seemed as if they had reached an impasse…kissing close, yet tiptoeing around the tender places instead of confiding in one another as sweethearts should.

One hot August morning, Jenny rose from bed determined to tell Sam the whole truth about herself. Nervously she helped fix breakfast, and they sat down to eat. Not long after the blessing, a sudden argument broke out between Sam and his mother. Lately, he had been after Antonia to "put down" the old horse, and growing more and more insistent. As her gentle Sam snapped at Antonia and stomped out of the house, Jenny could barely keep back her tears. Oh Please Lord, she prayed, don't let him start changin' on me now…

Getting a hold on her emotions, she went outside and looked around. Sam stood at the paddock fence, glaring at the old spotted stallion as if he truly hated it. Did he intend to kill the horse himself?

With slow, quiet steps she walked up beside him. "Sam," her voice pleaded, "it's your mither's horse, isn't it? What difference does it make?" She watched the muscles in his jaw work. "Sam…Sam, you're scarin' me."

At that, most of the anger seemed to drain from him. Turning, he looked at her with remorse. "Sorry, Jenny. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Well, ya did, Sam." She wavered a moment, then forged on. "And it's high time I tell ya why." Suddenly, she had his full attention and her heart raced out of control. "I've…I've been meanin' to say this for a long while…so you'd know why I was so set against ya when we first met—you bein' a cop, and all." A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed hard. "It's…it's because of me Da…back in Ireland. He was a cop, too—and he niver let any of us kids forget it. Irreverent he was, Sam, and mean…mean as the divil himself, after our mither died…and age hasn't mellowed him any. Uncle Phineas knew. Ya see, I was the youngest. Da meant me to stay and keep house for him, but Phineas helped me get outa there, bless his soul." Once more, the tears threatened. "So now ya know. And it may be wicked to say…but sometimes I wish my Da was dead, instead o' yours."

Sam pulled her into his arms and nearly crushed the breath out of her. "Oh Jenny," he murmured, "poor, sweet Jenny."

In fact, Sam was struggling with himself. Now that Jenny had opened up, he felt driven to do the same, for only honesty would ease the bitterness that kept spilling from him. But outside the confessional, he had never shared the painful story of his father with anyone.

"Sam," she said, resting her head on his shoulder, "I don't want anythin' to come between us…anythin', Sam. Don't ya understand?"

Knowing what she expected, he drew back, distancing himself physically and emotionally. One step from true intimacy, that's how it had always been for Sam Kirk. Fearful to give his heart completely, fearful to make any promises. But as Jenny silently appealed to him, he knew that he must take that fateful step forward or risk losing her.

"That…that damned stallion," he said brokenly. "War Cloud is all Mom has left of my father…but she just won't let him go!"

Jenny opened her mouth, but some feminine instinct made her wait for him to continue.

Sam kicked at the dirt and watched it scatter. "Your Uncle Phineas—he knew why I'm messed up. Out at Dreamcatcher he tried to help me, tried to keep me out of trouble. I was just a boy then…one of their boys, turned over to them by the court. Bet you didn't know that."

Her voice was little more than a whisper. "No, Sam…I didn't. No wonder ya seem so much at home there."

He nodded. Then sucking in a breath, he met her emerald eyes straight on. "It was because of my father. You see, he's not really dead, at all. He turned his back on us and ran off." His throat constricted painfully and he turned aside, struggling for control. A Kirk didn't cry…not even a tear, not even in private. Oh no, that's not how heroes behave. "I told you he was a ship's captain, and he was. Captain of a Federation starship. Captain Kirk. James Tiberius Kirk."

Jenny gasped. "The Captain Kirk—he's your Da? The one who returned to the Nexus? Where ya niver grow a day older?"

"Yes," Sam choked, "where all your dreams come true. I guess we weren't up to his standards. He shamed us in front of everyone, and I'd damn him to hell if I could!"

The sun glared down, burning the back of his neck. A slow breeze stirred dust in the paddock as War Cloud dozed in the heat, his hide twitching where flies landed. Tears streaming down his face, Sam stared at his father's horse. "It's just not fair, Jenny. How could he do it?"

Jenny sighed. "I understand, now. Ya think of him when you see that horse…and when the stars are shinin' in the night. But look at me, darlin'."

Embarrassed, he wiped his tears on his sleeve, then turned.

Gently she said, "There are stars in my eyes, too…shinin' bright, full of love. And Sam…I'm tellin' ya one thing for sure. I'll niver be leavin ya."

There was a stirring of warmth in Sam's heart, and like a bird flying out of the shadows, his spirits began to rise. How simple Jenny made everything seem. The past was behind them and nothing but their love mattered. Truly, they were made for one another.

In his relief, he gripped her slim shoulders and leaned toward her, all but breathless. "I don't suppose you'd ever marry a 'big city cop'."

Her eyes twinkled at him beneath dark lashes, and her cheeks dimpled. "And just who would you be havin' in mind, Sam?"

Dropping to one knee in the dirt, he grasped her hand. "Jenny Frances Flynn, will you marry me?"

She laughed. And flushed with happiness, she said, "I thought you'd niver get around to askin'…and me wantin' so badly to say 'yes'!"

Sam stood, and for a long while they just held one another close. Then their lips met in a joyous kiss that sealed the tender promise of their love.

oooOOooo