His next visitor was Ann Strete.

Dominic brought her up several days later and then made himself scarce, taking out Hawke's fishing skiff along with a rod, some bait and a cooler of beer, although Hawke noticed that his chosen spot for dropping a line was still within eyesight of the dock. He wasn't sure which one of them the older man felt he should keep in hailing distance for.

Ann stood in front of the fireplace and stared at the paintings on the walls, while Hawke pretended to be absorbed in doing an inventory of the bottles behind the bar.

"I guess they told you I'm going into the witness protection program," she said to the galloping horses above the mantle.

"Uh-huh." Maybe Dom would pick him up some a couple bottles of Pinot Noir. And beer, he was definitely getting low on beer.

"So, three days from now, I'm going to become somebody else."

"Good." He felt he ought to clarify that. "I mean, it's the best thing for you. Safest. Horn hates my guts, but he's got just as much reason to hate yours now."

"I guess. I was just starting to get used to being myself again."

"You'll get used to your new self."

"Maybe." Silence. Then, "Anyhow, I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Bye."

Something snapped. She spun around to face him. "Damn you, Hawke, this is really scary for me! Do you really hate me that much?"

Startled, he lost count of the bottles. Slowly he said, "I don't hate you, Ann. I did once. There was a time when I could easily have broken your neck if I had the chance, yours and Horn's both. But I guess you were just about as much a pawn as I was. What would Horn have done to you if you'd refused to get involved?"

"Gotten rid of me. Then found someone else to seduce you."

"Exactly."

"But still ‒ I truly hated what I was doing. When they dragged you off into that place of his in Texas, I would have given anything to have been able to change his mind. Or at least to have gotten away so I'd never have to see what happened to you."

"You helped me this time."

"No I didn't," she said bitterly. "I thought I could, but I couldn't. You helped yourself. I could have told you how to contact Dominic Santini, that would have been helpful. But I didn't even do that, because I was still too afraid. And when you finally did escape, it was really Elena's doing."

"You would have gotten me out, Ann. If only I hadn't ‒ " He broke off, swallowing hard. He still couldn't think about that. He'd assaulted her, come within a hair's breadth of raping her. He'd already tried a couple of times to rationalize what he'd done ‒ that he subconsciously still wanted to settle a score with Ann over what she'd done to him in the past, that emotionally speaking he'd been about as stable at that point as the San Andreas Fault, that he did have some kind of legitimate grievance with her, both for what had happened before and for her not getting him out Horn's clutches more quickly ‒ and dismissed it all as a pile of bullshit. The fact that she still trusted him enough to be in the same room with him was unbelievable. "God, Ann, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry, I'm sorry." She managed a lopsided smile. "Do two sorries cancel each other out? You know, so maybe nothing ever happened for either one of us to be sorry about?"

"I wish. I don't think it's that simple."

She took a deep breath, looking again at the painting over the fireplace. "Before I go – can you at least tell me that you believe me? About how I felt about what I did to you?"

He really didn't want to think about all that anymore. On balance, he'd already decided that Ann was most likely telling him the truth. But it didn't change the fact that whatever her motivations had been, without her acting as a lure he would probably never have fallen into Horn's hands, and none of what followed would have taken place. "I told you. We were both pawns."

There was another silence. If Ann was waiting for him to say anything more, she was disappointed.

"Okay then. Since we can't kiss each other and make it all better, can you at least wish me well?"

"Of course. I really hope everything does go well for you."

"And I wish you well. And success against John Bradford Horn."

"What makes you think I'm going to try going up against him?"

"Well, you are, aren't you? Because I know you're not going to be able to live with yourself if you don't do your damnedest to take him down."

"Maybe."

"Am I wrong?" she said challengingly.

One corner of his mouth turned up. "Naw. You're not wrong."

"Well, then . . . " She looked out the window. "I think this is a good note for me to leave on, but it looks like my pilot is still out in the middle of the lake."

Hawke lifted a couple of bottles. "Want a beer?"

They drank the beer, and then Ann said she would go and sit on the dock and wait for Dominic. An hour later he returned and shortly afterwards the Jet Ranger lifted off. Ann didn't come back to say goodbye.

Hawke was glad she'd come, and even more glad that he was never going to see her again.

The day before he was supposed to go back to Knightsbridge, Caitlin arrived with Elena. His co-worker raced up the steps from the dock and flung her arms around him, nearly knocking him over. "Welcome back, Hawke," she said, hugging him tightly.

He hugged her back. "Thanks. It's good to be back. And it's a good thing you've got such quick reflexes or else I would have put a big dent in Airwolf back in New Hampshire."

"What? Oh, that. Well, I guess you weren't really thinking too clearly right then."

"Something like that." He looked over at Elena, who was loitering down on the dock. He caught her eye and waved at her to come join them. "It's good to see you. I hear you've been staying with Cait."

"That's right. She's been very kind."

"Oh, no," Caitlin protested. "It's fun having company."

"I really just asked Caitlin if I could come with her so I could see how you were doing." She stood back and scrutinized him. "You're looking – amazing." Physically, the change in him was almost miraculous.

"Must be the fresh air. Hey, come here." He put the arm that wasn't still holding Caitlin around Elena and squeezed tightly. "Glad you came."

When he released her, she said brightly, "I should let you two have a chance to talk." She looked around and saw Tet. "So that's the dog that's eaten all Caitlin's furniture! Do you want me to take him for a walk? He looks like he'd like some exercise."

Hawke looked at Tet, who was the picture of lethargy as he sprawled in the one sunny patch on the front porch, said "Sure" and went off to find the leash. He clipped one end to the dog's collar and handed her the other. "Just don't let him chase any rabbits, unless you want to be running after him all the way back to town. And if you get lost, Tet knows all the ways home."

"That's reassuring. Come on, Tet, you want to show me around?"

The big hound yawned, then lumbered to his feet and good-naturedly allowed Elena to lead him away.

Left alone with Caitlin, Hawke asked, "You want a drink or anything? Coffee?"

"Coffee would be great." She followed him into the cabin. "I would have come up sooner to see how you were, but Dom told me you had the 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung out."

"Not for you."

"Yeah, right."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You think I'm that antisocial?"

"I think that if half of what Dom told me was true, you're probably wishing you could be a hermit for the rest of your life. And I wouldn't blame you."

"And what exactly did Dom tell you?" he asked, pouring coffee from the pot sitting on the stove top into a blue and white mug and handing it to her. She took a sip and regarded him over the rim.

"Don't worry, he didn't give me too many gory details. Just that ‒ they'd drugged you and messed with your mind so you didn't know who you were anymore. And ‒ you'd had a real hard time in that place."

"I wouldn't recommend it for a vacation spot, but we're not talking POW camp hard, Cait. Don't make too big of a deal about it."

"He also told me that John Bradford Horn was responsible for the whole thing. And that Angelica, or Ann or whatever the hell her name is, was there and you let her go."She hadn't meant that last sentence to come out quite so accusingly, not at this point at least, but it was too late to retract the words now.

Hawke busied himself in the kitchen, washing a cup that didn't need it and pulling stuff out of cupboards that he didn't want. He had a feeling he was treading on quicksand discussing Angelica Horn with Caitlin ‒ or maybe blowing on sparks. "You know, I never did figure out exactly what you had against her," he said with his back turned.

"Amongst other things, making me think I'd killed you. Making you think you'd killed Dom." She wasn't going to list all the other reasons. Some of them he probably knew anyway: they were the same ones he had for feeling what he did about Horn. Some of the others she hoped he never would figure out.

"That was Horn. Ann was just the bait. She didn't have much of a choice."

"Sure she did. I'll bet it suited her to have a nice, tame Stringfellow Hawke around as much as it did her daddy. Just for different reasons." She'd come dangerously close to blabbing something she'd wanted to keep quiet about. She took a gulp of coffee to stop herself from saying anything more and burned her mouth. Wincing, she stared down at the mug in her hands.

"Let it go, Cait," said Hawke gently. "That's what I did. You can sleep better at night that way."

"Have you let Horn go yet?"

"That's different."

"Uh huh."

"Ann's not a threat to either one of us now. Horn is."

"Dom said you want him to come looking for you. If catching him isn't still personal for you, why not leave it to Archangel and the Firm to track him down?"

"Because Airwolf and I are the best bait there is."

"And there's nothing the teensiest bit personal about it?"

He sighed heavily, then lifted his head and looked her in the face. That was the least he could do, after just telling her she should drop her own grudge. "Well ‒ maybe a bit. No, listen, Cait. This was the third time Horn's come after me, or Airwolf, or both. If I don't give stopping him my best shot, I'm gonna be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, wondering if he's behind me somewhere. You're right. I did have a hard time at that so-called clinic. I don't want to take a chance on something like that ever happening again. I'd rather Horn just shot me outright than go back there so doped up I don't even know who I am. So if putting myself out there as bait is the best way to draw him out, I'll do it. And if I get a chance to blow him off the face of the earth with a Hellfire, I'll do that too. With pleasure."

Caitlin looked at him, wide-eyed. That had to be one of the longest speeches she'd ever heard from him.

He turned away and hefted the coffee pot and said in a normal voice, "More coffee?"

Elena and Tet returned half an hour later. Hawke was already starting to put supper things together.

Elena was slightly out of breath. "Evidently he likes squirrels as well as rabbits."

Hawke scratched one ear, grinning. "Didn't pull your arm off, did he?"

"No, but it's a good thing he can't climb trees." She stared around the cabin in amazement, taking in the furnishings, the paintings on the walls, the cello in its stand. "Oh, my goodness," she breathed.

Then she noticed the food preparations underway. "Are we staying?" she asked hesitantly.

"Well, sure," replied Caitlin. "Didn't come all the way up here just to turn and go back home again half an hour later. I'm just staying for supper, but Hawke wants some time to show you around, so I'll pick you both up tomorrow and take you to Knightsbridge. That way Hawke can have someone to hold his hand when he talks to the doctors."

"Stop him from punching them out, more likely," said Elena. Hawke grinned again. "But I didn't ‒ "

"Pack a bag? Don't worry, I put some stuff together for you. It's in the chopper."

"But you and Hawke ‒ don't you want ‒ "

"Naw, he's already had all the welcome he's gonna get from me. And in case you hadn't noticed, Elena, Hawke here doesn't talk an awful lot. So there's no point in me wasting a whole evening sitting here waiting for him to tell me everything that happened and cry on my shoulder, because he won't. You want a glass of wine while the chef works?"

Caitlin helped clear up after supper and with drying the dishes, then left for the city.

Once the beat of the Jet Ranger's rotors faded the only sound was the breeze in the pines.

Hawke and Elena stood on the dock leaning against the wooden railing. After awhile Elena said, "I've never seen anywhere so peaceful. I can see why this place stuck in your mind when nothing else did."

Hawke said nothing. His head was tilted back, watching the constellations.

"And thank you again for that wonderful supper. It was so nice having you serve me a meal for a change."

He had to laugh at that. "With proper cutlery, even."

"Yes, and sharp knives. That was a delicious steak, by the way. You can certainly cook meat, even if you don't eat it."

He dipped his head in acknowledgment.

"When I think of all the awful stuff we shoved into you at Green Hills . . . oh, String, I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep harping on about that place. Forget I mentioned it."

"Well, it was your job," he said reasonably. "I don't know if you liked it or not, but at least you did it well. You really feel for people."

"I felt for you. I think I knew all along that you didn't belong there. I'm just sorry I never did anything about it before."

"I know why you didn't do anything about it, Elena. For one thing, you had absolutely no proof. And you were worried about getting another job if you wound up losing that one."

"Did Mr. Briggs tell you about that?" she said, her face going red.

He shrugged. "You're not exactly a hardened criminal. In fact, you were about the only decent person there. Do you want to go back?"

"I don't think I could. I'm not even sure there's a clinic there to go back to."

"Maybe not," he allowed. "But honestly, what do you want to do now? I just let you follow me into Airwolf and hauled you off to California without asking if you wanted to come. You left everything behind, including your livelihood. Plus I wrecked your car and I haven't reimbursed you for it yet."

"The car was about all I had that was worth anything," she admitted candidly. "As for what I want to do now ‒ well, I haven't figured that out yet. I guess I'm unemployed. I've always worked as a nurse's aide ‒ not a great job, but it paid the bills, more or less. It's scary not knowing where my next paycheck's coming from - or if it's even coming at all. And I can't sleep on Caitlin's couch forever. She's a lovely girl, but I don't want to keep imposing on her. I'm going to have to start looking for a job pretty darn soon. Know any hospitals around here that hire shoplifters?" Her voice had started to shake. She wiped impatiently at her eyes. "Oh God, listen to me. I'm sorry, String, I didn't mean to pour out everything like that. And I haven't gone through anything like what you have. I don't know why I'm feeling so sorry for myself all of a sudden."

"Hey, I asked."

"I'm going to start looking for a job first thing Monday morning. I'll find something. You don't have to worry about me."

"But don't you want to take a break for a while? Play tourist or something?"

"I don't think I know how to take a break. And I can't afford to play tourist."

Something suddenly occurred to him. "What about your home? You had a place, right?"

"That's another problem. Since I've been here, I missed paying this month's rent. I just hope my landlord hasn't packed up all my stuff and tossed it out."

"Come on inside. It's getting too cold out here." He led the way back to the cabin, sat her down on the sofa and built up the fire, then put a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. "Now listen. You come down to Knightsbridge with me tomorrow. I'll get the money for your car. Don't argue, what happened to it was completely my fault, and if you tried to go through your insurance they'd never believe you. Give me your landlord's address and I'll get your rent taken care of, so you don't have to worry about your belongings."

"String, you don't have to ‒ "

"Yes I do, because I'm still going to need your help. I was kind of hoping you hadn't made any plans yet. I know when I see the doctors tomorrow they're going to have a whole list of stuff they want me to do. Physio or rehab or whatever they call it. Would you mind very much staying up here for a while and helping me with it? It would make a lot of difference."

"Of course I will, if you want me to."

"And after that something's bound to turn up. Don't worry."

"String ‒ "

"What? You don't want to stick around?"

She gave in, smiling at last. "I do. Very much. Although I doubt you really need my help with anything anymore."

"You'd be surprised. Some mornings I swear I still need help just to get out of bed."

"Fine. I can do that. But I am not helping you in the bathroom."

"That won't be a problem," he said hastily. "Well, now that we've got that settled . . . " He turned and began rummaging around near the stereo, finally holding up an LP. "Here we are. Bach's cello suites. I knew it was around here somewhere." He placed it on the turntable and set the needle down. "Dedicated to you."

Elena found herself blushing. Hawke crooked an eyebrow at her, and grinned.