by Pamela Clare
“It does.” She sipped, moaned.
Jason got back into bed beside her, the two of them sitting with their backs against the headboard as they sipped. “I wonder how Hank is feeling this morning.”
“Sore, I’m sure, and probably not very happy with himself.”
“Did he really blow up his own house?”
“He was trying to extract hash oil from marijuana plants using butane, and the fumes ignited. His house burned to the ground.”
Jason shook his head. “That man must have nine lives.”
“You were good with him. I think everyone was impressed by what you can do. Megs kept talking about wanting you on the Team.”
“That’s what she said to me, too.”
It was such a normal thing to do—a couple savoring physical contact, sipping coffee together, planning their day. Except they weren’t truly a couple.
The thought put a bittersweet ache in Winona’s heart. “I need to get to the clinic. It’s past time for rounds, and I’ve got a shipment of food and supplies coming in today. Naomi and little Shota are coming home this afternoon, and I want to welcome them home—and to hold my little nephew again.”
“I’m going to give that security company in Denver a call and set up an appointment.”
When they had finished their coffee, they showered and made breakfast together. They were almost finished eating when Winona’s phone buzzed with a text from the game warden. She scrolled through the message, then jumped to her feet.
“That was Dan, the game warden. He’s bringing me an injured bear cub. A driver found it by the side of the road. Dan says it has a broken leg.”
“Can I help?”
She hurried to put on her scrubs. “Maybe. You can certainly watch.”
“Damn, you look sexy dressed like that.”
“In scrubs?” She laughed. “You’re crazy.”
He moved closer, nuzzled her neck. “Maybe I should have my way with you on one of your exam tables.”
“Gross! Do you have any idea what’s been on those tables?”
“So, that’s a no, then?”
She laughed again. “Yes, that’s a hard no.”
When they arrived at the clinic, Winona got a treatment room ready. Anesthetic. IV kit. Sterile gloves. Sterile surgical kit. Pain meds. “I have no idea what shape our little friend will be in, so I have to be ready for everything.”
A few minutes later, Dan arrived, carrying a very unhappy but good-sized nine-month-old cub in a blindfold. “I’m pretty sure her rear right leg is broken.”
“Bring her back here.” Winona gestured toward the treatment room, stepping out of the warden’s way.
The cub bawled, terrified and in pain.
Winona helped the warden settle her on the table, then quickly gave the cub anesthesia through a mask and slipped into a pair of sterile gloves so she could examine it. “There’s some ruptured muscle and definitely a fracture. I’d say she got clipped by a car. I’ll need to take X-rays to see how bad it is.”
Winona went for her portable X-ray machine, the one she’d held a year’s worth of fundraisers to buy, and wheeled it in. She put on a lead apron and asked the two men to wait outside while she took images of the bear’s leg.
She studied the images, then walked out into the hallway, where she found Jason and Dan talking. They stopped when they saw her. “The leg is broken, but the fracture is non-displaced. I won’t have to do surgery to stabilize it. I’ll clean the wound, stitch her up, and put her in a splint.”
“That’s good news.” Dan pointed to Jason with a jerk of his thumb. “I was talking with Agent Chiago about the wolf situation. I was hoping the two of you could head up with a ranger tomorrow and see if you have better luck tracking the animal. We haven’t been able to get close.”
Jason met Winona’s gaze. “I said I’d do it if you have the time.”
“I’ll have to get someone to cover for me and watch over our newest patient. If I can make that happen, then yes. I’d be happy to help.”
“Give me a call when you know.” Dan took off.
Winona turned to Jason. “Want to assist me in putting a splint on this little girl?”
“You bet.”
“Today was a good day.” The smile on Winona’s face put a hitch in Jason’s chest, the last rays of the sun giving her skin a bronze glow. “We saved a bear cub. I got to snuggle Shota and see Naomi.”
Jason took her hand, shared his highlight. “I got an appointment for Monday with the security company. We had lunch with your brother and his family, and Chaska didn’t punch me.”
That made Winona laugh. “He’s a good guy—I promise.”
“I believe you.”
They’d grabbed a pizza from Knockers, and Winona had given him directions to a place above Scarlet Springs that she called Caribou where they could eat and watch the sunset. Now, they sat on the back of his truck, tailgate down, the pizza devoured, the sun dipping behind the high peaks.
“Isn’t it beautiful up here?”
He could barely take his gaze off her. “Yeah. Incredible.”
It was beautiful and peaceful, the air crisp and fresh, the scent of pine on the wind. He couldn’t even hear traffic from here or see a single power line or a house or a road. She’d told him there was an old silver mine a little farther on and that Joe and Rain had their home somewhere up here, but, apart from the road, he couldn’t see any sign that people had ever lived or labored up here.
“Why did Naomi ask you about baskets?” She’d been changing Shota’s diaper and had missed most of the conversation.
“O’odham women are known for weaving beautiful baskets. She wondered if I knew any artists who might want to sell baskets through her store. I told her I’d ask around.”
“Your grandmother made them, right?”
“She did. She was a master.” Jason pulled out his phone, scrolled through his photos. “These are hers.”
Winona leaned closer. “Oh, Jason. They’re beautiful! Your grandmother had talent. That one looks just like your tattoo.”
Jason scrolled until he came to a photo of his grandmother. “My grandmother had a hard life. Her father married her off when she was fourteen, but her first husband died falling off a horse soon after. To be honest, I think she was relieved. Then she met and married my grandfather. She gave birth to eight children at home, no medical help, no pain relief. They all died before she did.”
“That must have been so hard.”
“Grief took its toll on her, but she always had a smile for me.”
“Grief took a toll on you, too, losing your parents so young.”
That was the truth.
“She and my grandfather lived by the old ways—farming, hunting, harvesting food from the desert. She made baskets, and he hunted. After my parents were killed, I was consumed by rage. I lost myself for a while. But they took me in, taught me traditional O’odham skills, taught me our history, our stories. They saved me, stopped me from becoming a statistic.”
“They must have loved you very much.”
Jason slipped his phone back into his pocket. “My grandfather passed first. My grandmother lasted for almost two years without him. As she lay dying, she made me promise not to abandon my O’odham people. I knew that she wanted me to keep our family name and our culture alive by passing on everything they’d taught me. My sisters took off, so I’m the last one in our line still living in Sells.”
“That’s why you won’t leave the reservation.”
“Yeah.” The word was bitter in Jason’s mouth.
He had made that promise to his grandmother at a time when he couldn’t imagine wanting to do otherwise, when he and Elena were together and it had seemed like the path for the rest of his life was laid at his feet. He would never have imagined that the promise might one day come at a cost. But now…
Another twist in the road, another unexpected turn.
For a time, they sat there, neither of them speak
ing, the mood changed.
Wind in the pines. The hooting of an owl. The distant bugle of a bull elk. The warmth of Winona’s hand in his.
“We should go.” Winona released his hand and hopped to the ground, her tone of voice light, her gaze averted. “I need to check on the bear cub, and we’ve got an early morning.”
“Right.” He stepped to the ground, closed the tailgate, then opened her door.
“Thanks.” She started to climb in, then stopped. “If you hadn’t made that promise, would you at least consider spending time here with me?”
It hurt even to imagine that scenario, but he understood why she was asking. She wanted to know whether she meant anything to him beyond sex.
“I would. Hell, yes, I would. I care about you, Win. But I did make the promise, and nothing can change that.”
“It’s getting chilly.” Making a valiant attempt not to seem upset, she climbed into the passenger seat.
But Jason knew her better than that. He closed her door, walked around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, at war with himself, a sense of guilt twisting in his chest. But why should he feel guilty? He’d been honest with her from the beginning. She’d known he couldn’t stay.
You knew she’d get hurt if you got involved with her, but you did it anyway.
His next thought stopped him mid-stride.
What you didn’t know was that you’d get hurt, too.
Fuck.
He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and turned up the heat. “Let me know if you’re still cold.”
Then he headed down the mountain and back into Scarlet.
Fighting a sense of gloom, Winona gave the bear cub antibiotics and morphine, then cleaned its enclosure, speaking softly while she worked. “I’m so sorry, little one.”
It sniffed, watched her, bawled, in pain and missing its mother.
While the morphine kicked in, she mixed bear feed with seeds and wild chokecherries and thawed venison scraps in a bowl. At this age, the cub had been weaned off its mother’s milk and ate bear food—bugs, carcasses, berries, mice, wild honeycomb. When it had healed, Winona would move it to an outdoor enclosure, isolated from other staff, and help it learn to forage so it could be released into the wild next spring.
She gave the bear its food and went to check the other animals. The beaver and the raccoon seemed to be having a conversation, the raccoon trilling and cooing, and the beaver making little humming noises that sounded almost human.
“That’s why the Ojibwe call you ‘little talking brother,’ right?” She was happy with how the beaver’s lacerations were healing. She would be able to remove the splint from the raccoon’s leg next week. “You’ll both be ready to leave me soon, won’t you?”
She meant the words one way when she said them, but they resonated in an altogether different way.
Jason would be leaving soon, too.
At least she understood why now. He was the last of his line on the O’odham reservation, the last member of his family to still live in their ancestral land. More than that, he’d made his grandmother a promise on her deathbed.
Winona knew that her non-Native friends in Scarlet probably wouldn’t understand why Jason couldn’t just forget all of that and move to Scarlet. But Winona respected his reasons. She couldn’t ask him to break his word or leave his homeland.
She took off her lab coat, washed her hands, then grabbed her keys. But instead of locking up and walking home, she sank into a chair in the lobby, fighting tears.
I care about you, Win.
She cared about him, too. She cared too much.
She couldn’t do this to herself or to Jason. She couldn’t cry and ruin the evening for both of them. She couldn’t let the anticipation of the loss she’d feel when he left steal what time they had remaining. But, oh, it was hard.
She drew in one slow breath after another until she felt in control of her emotions once more. Jason was here now, and she needed to keep her mind and heart in the moment. If all they had was another week or two, she would make every day—and every night—count.
Then an idea came to her.
She hurried into her private bathroom at the clinic, brushed the pizza taste out of her mouth, then brushed her hair. Remembering what Jason had said about her looking sexy in scrubs, she stripped naked and put on a clean pair. She could tell just by glancing at her reflection that she was braless, but she wasn’t sure he would notice.
If he didn’t, she would help him out.
She locked up and walked home to find Jason waiting for her, every candle in her house sitting on the coffee table and lit, the lights down low. She took off her parka, dropped it on the chair by the door. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
It touched her that, while she’d been plotting to surprise him, he’d been busy putting together a surprise for her. “This is nice.”
“Our time on the dance floor was cut short last night. I thought we could make up for that now.” He picked up her remote and started her sound system, that same slow song by the Timberline Mudbugs spilling out of her speakers.
“Oh! You tracked down the music.”
“It wasn’t hard. Will you dance with me, Winona?”
She walked into his arms, his spicy scent filling her head, the two of them moving together in time to the music.
He kissed her temple, pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry, Winona. I know this is hard. It’s hard for me, too. But I would rather spend time with you and pay for it later than behave myself and go home, never having known you.”
“Same.” Winona closed her eyes, rested her head against his chest, neither of them speaking again until the song ended. “I’ve got something for you, too.”
“Yeah?”
She stepped back, turned around, and pulled down her scrub bottoms to show him exactly what she wasn’t wearing. She looked back over her shoulder, saw that his gaze was locked right where she wanted it—on her bare ass.
He moaned. “Oh, Win.”
In a blink, he moved up behind her, catching her around her waist with one arm, his free hand caressing her buttocks. Slowly, he marched her toward the wall, his thighs pressing against her. She braced herself, palms splayed against the wall as if she were being frisked, while he tore down her scrub bottoms. Then one big hand got busy between her thighs, the other sliding beneath her top to fondle her bare breasts, his caresses making her ache.
“I love your body.” He moaned again, his hands leaving her body just long enough to yank down his zipper and free his erection. “Arch your lower back. Stick your sweet ass out. Spread your legs wider. Just like that.”
Anticipation turned her body to liquid, the heat between her thighs almost unbearable. “I want you inside me—now!”
He slid his fingers inside her, stroked her. “Like this?”
“I want your cock.”
“Ah.” Without putting on a condom, he slowly nudged himself into her, their moans mingling as he buried himself to the hilt, nothing between them, their bodies truly joined for the first time. “Like this?”
“Yes.”
“You feel so good.” His voice sounded tight, strained.
He began to move, slowly at first, then faster, his cock stroking her inside just where she needed it, the fingers of his left hand digging into her hip, the right doing incredible things to her clit.
“Jaaa-son.” Her thighs trembled, her body spiraling toward climax.
Then he stopped, withdrew.
She moaned in protest. “Nooo.”
He chuckled. “Patience.”
He turned her to face him and pulled something out of his pocket—a condom. He rolled it down his length, his cock glistening with her wetness. Then he lifted her off her feet, pressed her back against the wall, and buried himself inside her once again.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck. There was no holding him back this time. He drove himself into her, hard
and fast, carrying her headlong over the edge before joining her in bliss.
Chapter 19
While Winona did her morning rounds and brought Dr. Keene up to speed on the bear cub, Jason put his time to good use making breakfast. When Winona returned, he had scrambled eggs and salsa on the table and tortillas warming in the oven.
Winona rewarded him with one of those sweet smiles. “Oh, that smells good. Thanks for doing all this.”
After breakfast, they got their gear together, Winona giving him advice.
“Make sure to pack plenty of snacks and water. Bring every warm thing you have. On our way out, I’ll grab some frozen beef from the clinic. If we spot the wolf, I want to be able to lure him in with food. I hope we find him today.”
They arrived at the Forest Service parking area just before ten and sat in Jason’s truck, waiting for the Forest Service Ranger. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. Forty-five minutes later, the only people who’d showed up were cross-country skiers and people heading into the mountains with snowshoes.
Winona glanced at Jason’s watch. “We could still be sleeping—or doing something else.”
Jason took her hand. “Or doing something else.”
At last, a Forest Service vehicle pulled into the parking area, and a tall, lanky ranger stepped out. He walked over to them. “Sorry, I’m late. I had a run-in with a couple of wackos on meth in one of our camping areas. I’m Ranger Rob Henriksen.”
Jason held out his hand. “Jason Chiago.”
“Winona Belcourt.”
Henriksen laid out the plan. “We can’t leave the animal out there. It’s habituated to humans, which puts it in danger. It might not even know how to hunt, and we don’t want it to starve. The trouble is finding it. I thought it would make its way back to its owner’s camp, but so far, it hasn’t shown itself.”
Winona nodded. “That’s a good guess. The poor thing is probably scared. Wolves have incredible olfactory senses. He can smell all the people who’ve been there. We might be able to bait and trap him there, but it could take time.”
“What about higher up the mountain, where the four-wheeler flipped?” Jason didn’t know much about wolves, but it didn’t hurt to ask. “That’s the last place the wolf saw its owner.”