Follow A Wild Heart (romance,)

by Hutchinson, Bobby

  Breakable.

  She was retreating, from him, from everything around her. At first, she'd let him hold her, comfort her, repeat the litany she needed to hear in order to get through those first interminable hours.

  "We'll find him, soon now. Trust me, Kari, we'll find him," Logan had repeated and repeated that first day and night, and even the next. But as hour after hour, night after night, crawled past, and search teams staggered wearily into the house and shook their heads mutely at her while others hurried out, she'd gone away from him, from everything around her into a frozen sort of limbo where he couldn't follow.

  Logan held her in his arms every chance he had, trying to warm her, penetrate past the dull exhaustion in her gray eyes.

  "She won't eat or rest," Otis said worriedly to Logan. Otis's faded eyes were haunted, and he seemed to have aged drastically. "I don't know what's going to become of her if we don't find Danny soon." The older man looked discouraged and depressed.

  Otis's attitude had changed toward Logan in the past several days. There was acceptance and a grudging respect from Karena's father now, where before there had been open animosity and subtle ridicule.

  This helicopter search had to be successful, Logan thought desperately as they climbed in and the rotors sped up and the machine lifted into the sky.

  The earth fell away below them.

  What would it do, Logan pondered, to Karena and to him, if—but he shook his head and refused to even consider that possibility. Danny would be found, and soon. Alive. He simply had to be.

  Karena's head ached viciously, and her eyes watered, even behind her dark glasses, from the brilliance of sky and sun. She accepted the binoculars the pilot handed her, and scanned the earth below in wide sweeps, the way Logan was doing in the seat behind her.

  Somewhere below, amidst the evergreens and the snowy expanse of woods, the frequent patches of Minnesota's icy blue gray lakes, there was a boy wearing a green parka, and a moose.

  They flew to the area Gabe had suggested, and for the best part of an hour they canvassed what seemed to be every square inch of it, with absolutely no luck.

  They were banking to turn and go back when Karena caught a glimpse of red among the thick scrub below. She motioned to the pilot, and he obligingly tilted the craft until her stomach rebelled, but she ignored it.

  Don't hope, she warned herself. Don't hope.

  Suddenly the bit of red showed again, and this time she could see Mort. The scarf was tied around his neck, and he was ambling along the edge of a meadow. Karena began to shake uncontrollably as the helicopter swooped down, barely skimming the foliage as they searched for a place to land.

  "There," the pilot pointed. "Maybe."

  Karena held her breath as the copter descended at an alarming rate, hovered over an area barely large enough to clear the rotors, and settled. She was out and running before the pilot had the engine off, with Logan close behind her.

  "Danny," she screamed at the top of her lungs, but at first there was no response, and although she saw Mort, the moose panicked from the noise of the helicopter and galloped away from them.

  "Mort, damn you, take us to Danny. Mort, if you had a lousy scrap of loyalty—" Logan's voice was hoarse, and Karena's thoughts were a panicked jumble.

  Logan helped her scramble up a rock bluff, and when her panting subsided enough to holler again, she imagined an answer came back faintly. Both she and Logan yelled Danny's name in unison, holding their breath in prayerful expectation.

  "Mom, Mom. I'm over here. Oh, Mommy, my leg hurts so much."

  With tears streaming down her cheeks and sobs choking her, she stumbled through the underbrush one step behind Logan, and together they found her son.

  Danny was lying huddled in his sleeping bag, under a makeshift lean-to, with his pitiful boy's pack scattered around him, and he was sobbing weakly when Karena fell to her knees and gathered him carefully into her arms, close to her heart.

  "Mommy, Logan, I'm so glad you're here. I heard the helicopter, but I couldn't do anything. I'm sorry. Oh, Mom, I meant to bring Mort here and then come back, but we fell on the rocks. Mort fell on me, he didn't mean to, he hurt my foot. I think I broke it. I heard wolves at night. I was so scared." Danny was babbling hysterically, and Karena tried to reassure him, but within moments he seemed barely conscious, his voice weak and his words rambling.

  Logan had run back to alert the pilot and get the stretcher and first-aid kit, and a new, awful fear grew inside of Karena as she looked down at her son.

  Danny was shuddering, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. His skin was a strange greenish white color, and his lips were blue. His eyes, when he opened them to stare unbelievingly up at her, were badly bloodshot. It was obvious he was dangerously ill.

  Logan and the pilot came crashing through the underbrush, and the strenuous, difficult task of getting Danny back to the helicopter began. Together, they immobilized her son's leg and saw the monstrous purple swelling above and below the ugly break, the dangerously discolored foot.

  Because of the rock bluff, the stretcher was impractical, and Logan finally lifted the boy in his arms and carried him, swathed in the silver emergency blanket they'd wrapped around him.

  At last they reached the clearing, and moments later the helicopter lifted up gracefully. Karena glanced from Danny's pale face down to the wilderness below.

  Mort, still wearing the red scarf Danny had tied around his neck, was standing forlornly silhouetted against the white expanse of snow.

  He looked tiny from up there, and Karena remembered what Danny had read from his animal books.

  "The young moose calf, until he reaches yearling age, is often killed by wolves or bears, and if left alone is in danger of starving. Calves remain with their mothers throughout the first year and even then the separation is a traumatic one."

  Mort was only five months old, and he hadn't a clue how to forage for himself. Danny had heard wolves. Karena shuddered. It was unlikely Mort would survive longer than a few days. It was a miracle her son had, and she closed her eyes and said a fervent prayer for both the boy and the moose.

  Danny muttered Mort's name and rolled his head, and she heard the pilot radio the hospital in Bemidji, asking that an ambulance meet them at the airport.

  Her son was in her arms, and the tremulous smile she gave Logan when he turned to her made his breath catch with its sweetness. Hope and a new confidence swelled within him. They'd found a path through this nightmare together. Surely they could find a way to solve the other problems between them.

  Chapter Twelve

  The doctors hurried Danny away, and Logan did his best to sustain Karena during the lengthy wait. At last, the door to the examining room swept open and a brisk young doctor emerged.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Carlson?"

  No one corrected him, and he went on, "I'm Dr. Flanders. Your son's suffering from exposure and frostbite, but the most serious problem is his ankle. We've X-rayed it, he has a compound fracture."

  He led the way to a lighted display board and slipped in a sheet, showing them Danny's injury. Within the circle of his arms, Logan could feel Karena trembling. Dr. Flanders summed up his findings, and added, "Go in and see him. He's pretty sleepy, we've given him a shot."

  The room was down the hall. Danny's face and the pillow were close to the same shade, his eyes startlingly blue amidst the whiteness; eyes that filled with tears at the sight of Logan and Karena.

  "What I did, it was wrong and stupid and I'm so sorry," he burst out.

  His gaze was more on Logan than Karena. He was certain of his mother's love and forgiveness. It was Logan's respect he was afraid of losing, and Logan recognized it.

  "A guy does what he has to, Dan. We all make mistakes. The important thing was that you kept your head. You built a shelter; you did all the right things to survive. For that, I'm proud of you."

  Some of the tension in Danny's face eased. "I didn't want Mort to be taken far away where I'd never
see him again. But I thought about it, out there, and that's the only way it can be, isn't it? He has to be one way or the other, wild or tame. And now I took his chance away, because he's gonna die out there by himself, isn't he, Logan?" Danny's voice was becoming slurred as the drugs took effect, but he fought them, needing reassurance.

  Logan lied. He did his best to convince Danny that Mort would adapt, knowing it wasn't true.

  Danny's eyes fluttered, closed, and he was sound asleep in an instant.

  Karena's shoulders sagged. She was sitting by the bed, her son's limp hand in her own, and she raised her eyes gratefully to Logan.

  "Thank you," she whispered. "For everything. For loving us."

  There was silence for a long time, peaceful silence punctuated only by Danny's soft breathing.

  At last, reluctantly, Logan stirred. "I have to make some phone calls. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

  She nodded and he tiptoed out of the room. First, he put in a quick call to Cliff and Betsy. Then, he phoned the sheriff in Northome and told him Danny was found, and asked him to notify everyone else.

  "Tell the forestry students to drive my car down when they leave," he added reluctantly. His other life was waiting, none too patiently. He had to get back to his classes in St. Paul.

  He called the number Karena had given him for Gabe and related the good news. Then, he arranged for a television for Danny's room. The boy would need all the distraction available. Logan knew the moose calf would weigh on Danny's mind during the days to come.

  He bought coffee and a sandwich for Karena, and he was walking back with it when he saw a smartly dressed, dynamic figure hurrying down the hospital corridor toward him.

  "That was quick, Bets. Cliff is with the kids?"

  His sister nodded. ''You were right to phone, Logan. Of course Karena can't stay anywhere but with us. How's Danny? More important, how's Karena?"

  Logan felt a rush of affection for his family. They were always right there when he needed them. He hugged Betsy hard.

  "Danny's weak and pretty sick, he's going to be here for a while. Karena's exhausted."

  Logan led the way back to Danny's room, and they found Karena with her head down on the high hospital bed, still holding Danny's limp hand. Both of them were sound asleep.

  Just then the doctor came in, took one look at the scene and ordered brusquely, "Wake up, Mrs. Carlson."

  Karena raised her head sluggishly.

  "This guy's out for at least twelve hours or more, and I'm sending you home right now. Go to bed and sleep. You can come back first thing tomorrow and make sure we're taking good care of him. Off you go, or we'll put you to bed right here."

  Waves of weariness made Karena dizzy.

  Betsy took charge. "You're coming home with me. Where's your purse and your coat?" she stated in a nononsense way.

  "Oh, no, I'll just get a motel room. Besides, I haven't any clothes or anything," Karena began, but the past few days had destroyed her defenses.

  Betsy won."I've got enough shirts and jeans and nightgowns for an army."

  Logan walked out with them to Betsy's car, his arm protectively around Karena.

  "You're coming, too, aren't you, Logan?" she asked a little wildly, unable to contemplate being without him again. But Logan shook his head.

  "Rob will be here soon with my car. I have to get back to St. Paul and make sure I still have a job." He hated leaving her. But this time it wouldn't be for long.

  Tipping her chin up with a finger, he ordered tenderly, "Go and sleep. We have a lot to talk over. I'll be back next weekend for sure."

  Too tired to respond properly, feeling on the verge of tears at leaving him, Karena could only nod. She lifted her face for his kiss.

  "Take care of her, Bets," Logan said, and watched the car drive off.

  Rob arrived a few minutes later with Logan's car. Without planning it out at all, Logan heard himself asking Rob to ride back to St. Paul with the others. With a sinking sensation in his gut, he heard himself explaining, "I can't get that damned moose off my mind. I'm going back up to the cabin."

  Otis was at Karena's cabin, where Logan knew he'd be, and Logan followed him into the warm kitchen, giving him a full report on everything that had happened.

  Otis listened quietly, then stuck out a gnarled hand to Logan.

  "Can't say I liked you right off, professor. But now I figure you'll make a fine husband for that girl of mine. If that's what you got planned," he added, beetling his brows at Logan and giving him one of his formidable scowls. "It better be," he growled menacingly. "We're a God-fearing, Christian-minded, church-going family, and we don't go for any big city shenanigans."

  "Otis, marriage is exactly what I plan," Logan assured him. He'd been planning it since last July, but things kept interfering. Things like Otis.

  "Well, then, you have my blessing." There was a measure of relief and a certain smugness in Otis's voice.

  "Thank you, Otis."

  There were a few details to settle, Logan thought, such as getting the lady to agree to marry him. At least now that he had Otis's cooperation in the matter, it shouldn't be too hard to get Karena's.

  He crossed his fingers mentally, hoping that Otis would also cooperate with the next thing he had in mind. He unwrapped the bottle of fine Scotch whiskey he'd bought on the way, and found two glasses, hoping Otis wasn't a teetotaler. Logan had never heard of a logger who was.

  "There's something I need your help with, sir," he said, and Otis nodded his head, prepared to be magnanimous now that Logan was being properly respectful and would soon be part of the family. He accepted the half filled glass of amber liquid and tossed half of it back in one swallow.

  "What is it, professor?"

  Hastily, Logan outlined the plan he had in mind to go back to Dora Lake and rescue Mort, and Otis cursed with breathtaking eloquence during the whole explanation. Logan decided admiringly that for a church minded man, Otis had one hell of a vocabulary.

  He also had an awesome capacity for whiskey.

  In the end, it took a few heartless statements from Logan guaranteed to stir up all Otis's guilt feelings about Danny, and Karena, and even the moose, before the old logger finally agreed.

  "We'll leave in the morning, might as well get it over with," he growled balefully. "But before we go, by jiminy, you get hold of these Michigan people and make sure they still want that confounded animal. Be just my luck to get him back here and find out I'm stuck with him the rest of my natural life. I sure never fancied being grampa to a moose."

  Logan agreed wholeheartedly with that. He wasn't exactly eager to be Mort's stepfather, either.

  Karena opened her eyes. It was early morning, and the watery winter dawn was just beginning to creep through the eyelet curtains on the long narrow window.

  She spent several puzzled moments wondering where on earth she was. The small room that held her narrow bed was papered in pink roses and the dresser was painted white.

  Lizzie's room, of course.

  Memories of the previous day came flooding back, dizzying thankfulness that Danny was safe, random yearning thoughts of Logan, gratitude for the kindness the Gardoms had shown her.

  Of course, she couldn't stay here after today. Last night had passed in an absolute fog, she'd been too exhausted to worry about what to say or do. But staying here the whole time Danny was in the hospital was unthinkable.

  While she planned how to tactfully move to a motel, there was a soft knock at her door.

  "You awake, Karena?" Betsy smiled a warm good morning. She wore a big soft blue terry robe, and baby Nicole squirmed and whined on her shoulder. Behind her was Lizzie, balancing a loaded tray that she promptly brought over and placed on the bed beside Karena.

  "Nicky needs to be fed, and Lizzie and I thought it would be fun if you had breakfast while she's nursing. You don't mind, do you?" Betsy made herself comfortable on a chair, and Nicole made frantic, starving, choking noises that soon had everyone giggling.
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  "She's such a little piggy," Lizzie pronounced proudly. "Sit up, I'll plump the pillows for you," she ordered Karena.

  Betsy caught Karena's eyes and they exchanged a smile at Lizzie's proprietary fussing.

  Karena sat up.

  "You like cream, right?" Lizzie queried, efficiently preparing a mug for Karena, and then doling out hot rolls for each of them with the air of a high priestess presiding over an important ritual.

  "Now tell us again exactly where and how you finally found Danny, and everything the doctor said about his ankle. You only gave us the bare details last night," Betsy ordered. "We were worried half to death about him."

  Cliff had been out with the searchers, and Betsy had managed to drive to Karena's cabin through the snowstorm one of those dreadful days with huge baskets of food.

  They were Logan's family. And because he loved her, they were doing their best to become her family as well. Could she accept that?

  A warm glow spread slowly through Karena's strained shyness. She began to talk, sipping the coffee and wondering if this was how it felt to have a sister.

  She revised that. Maybe this was how it felt to have women friends. Karena had never had women friends before, and suddenly she had first Abigail, now Betsy...and Lizzie, too.

  Karena stayed on with the Gardoms. They made her so welcome, so much a part of the family, that it was impossible to feel shy around them. She could have managed on her own, but strangely enough, after that first morning, she didn't want to.

  Danny would be in the hospital for at least two weeks, and Karena phoned her boss at the logging company and arranged to take the two weeks of vacation that were due her. She suggested he call Abigail in to take her place. Then she phoned Abigail and gave her all the news, thanking her for being there while Danny was lost.

  "That's what friends are for," Abigail confirmed stoutly.

  How had she ever managed without friends, Karena wondered.

  The first days passed and Danny got steadily stronger, but the doctors confirmed their earlier diagnosis of his ankle. He was going to need intensive physiotherapy if he were to regain full use of his foot, three times a week for perhaps as long as six months.