by Sandra Cox
Something wet and warm plopped on her face. Surely Hank McHenry the quintessential tough guy wasn’t crying.
She called on the last reserves of her strength and lifted her hand toward his face. The distance was too great. It fell limply against his stomach. But it must have reassured him because he lifted it and kissed it.
“That’s my girl,” Hank whispered as he moved her head gently to the seat and got out of the truck.
She winced as the truck door slammed then rolled over facing the back of the seat and curled her knees up to her chest.
It seemed like only moment until the door opened. A sandpaper tongue licked her cheek and a purr rumbled like thunder in her ear. She smiled. Puss–Puss.
“Bella, can you sit up?”
The man took the time to get her cat, for the gods’ sakes, the least she could do was humor him. On arms like spaghetti she pushed up an inch then collapsed back down.
“Good girl.”
He lifted her. “I’m probably doing all the wrong things for a head injury but we’ve got to get you to Maureen. Whatever’s wrong, she’ll fix it.”
I know she will. Hadn’t she seen Maureen heal Jack Wolfe with her healing amulet when his muscles were barely more than a mass of quivering Jell-O?
Hank slid a silk pillow he must have taken from the couch onto his lap then lowered her. Taking her hand, he said, “Squeeze my hand once if you want the pillow. Squeeze it twice if it elevates you too much.”
She wouldn’t go so far as to call it a squeeze but she did manage a butterfly push with her fingers, her hand trembling.
“That’s my, girl.” He let go of her hand and turned the key. The engine rumbled to life. Hank eased out of the parking space in front of the building.
She pried her eyes open and watched from heavy lids as he leaned over, popped open the glove compartment and pulled out his cell phone. Driving with one hand, he punched in buttons then held it to his ear.
“Maureen, it’s Hank. Listen, honey, I need you and Jack to meet me. I’m on my way home. Bella’s been injured. I’m pretty sure she’s got a concussion and I’m afraid she’s trying to slide into a coma. I hope to god she doesn’t have a neck or back injury. I’ve been shuffling her around. Thank god you and your amulet can fix anything.” Emotion deepened his voice.
“I’ll probably hook up with you somewhere along I-24 in Kentucky. Ask that Wills kid who’s been hanging around to check on the horses. See you in about six hours.” He clicked shut the phone and threw it in the glove compartment.
Puss–Puss curled up between her knees and chest. Comforted, Bella managed to raise her hand and rest it in the cat’s silky fur. She slipped into sleep like a baby.
Periodically, the feel of Hank’s hand on her wrist checking her pulse would wake her. Time held no meaning. The drone of large semis on the highway slipped into her dreams.
She woke to excruciating pain hammering her body, in particular her head. “Coffee. Aspirin,” she whispered.
“What?” Hank said as he swerved the car into the right-hand lane.
She didn’t have the strength to repeat it. He’d just have to figure it out.
“Coffee? Aspirin? I’m sure that’s what you said,” he mumbled to himself. “I knew you were a survivor. I’ll take the next exit. I need gas anyway.”
“Here we go.” The truck slowed as he exited off the highway. “Right up ahead.”
He turned the wheel again and bright lights pushed against her closed eyelids. She bit back a moan.
“Let’s get you some fresh air.” He cracked the window. A cool breeze tinged with gas fumes floated into the cab.
Hank turned off the truck then lifted her gently from his lap. “I’m going to pump gas then get you some coffee.”
As he climbed out of the cab, he laid her back against the seat. Moments later she heard the clack of the pump handle as the gas ran through it. In one graceful leap, Puss–Puss hopped over her. Ignoring the tom-toms beating a rhythm in her brain she watched through slitted eyes as he put his paws on the window and looked out. The pump clicked. Hank put the handle back then walked to the station.
“Look, Mamma. Look at the white kitty.” A girl stood at the window, pointing at Puss–Puss. Then she let out a shriek that made Bella’s skull feel like it was going to crumble. “There’s a lady inside and she’s hurt.”
“Leigh Ann, how many times have I told you not to exaggerate?”
“But, Mamma, look for yourself.”
“I’m not going to go poking around someone else’s vehicle.”
Thank goodness, the young girl was prone to exaggeration, Bella thought, closing her eyes as the voices grew fainter.
Before she knew it the cab door opened, bringing with it the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. Hank must have noticed her wince as the dome light came on because he set the cup in a holder, eased himself in and said, “Let’s get out from under these bright lights and see if you can handle a sip or two of this.”
He turned the engine on and drove around to the side of the building. “I’m going to lift you up, Bella.” As gently as if he were lifting a butterfly, he leaned her against his wide shoulder. “I picked up some Goody’s,” he said referring to powdered aspirin, “and sprinkled it in your coffee. Never heard of it in Wisconsin but seems to be all the rage in the South and it’ll be easier than trying to get you to swallow a pill.”
As he held the cup in his big, solid hand, she took a sip then another, feeling like she could cry of happiness as the strong, hot liquid laced with the bitter bite of aspirin ran down her throat. “My brain,” she began then paused, forgetting what she’d been about to say.
“Yes,” he prodded.
“Floating in cerebrospinal fluid, scrambled,” she slurred.
“Cerebrospinal fluid, you say? Fancy you knowing that. Don’t tell me you were on your way to med school when you had an epiphany and decided to become an artist.”
Her eyes crossed and her vision blurred. “Fancy you…” Again her voice trailed off.
He gave her a light nudge. “Fancy you what?”
“Knowing what epiphany means. You think I’m a dumb blonde?” Her head wobbled and her words slurred.
“I think you are too smart for your own good. You think I’m just a dumb ranch hand?” Laughter sang through his voice.
She started to make a denial but on the third tentative sip of coffee nausea bubbled in her throat and her stomach roiled. She managed to swallow down the coffee that was doing its best to come back up. Oh yeah, she’d scrambled her brain, all right.
With a weak mew she pushed against Hank’s hand and motioned back the offending liquid then scooted back down on his lap.
“Interesting position,” she mumbled and had the satisfaction of feeling his body jump against her.
“I believe you are going to live,” he said, his voice dry with relief.
Puss–Puss curled back up beside her and began to purr, a deep rumbling vibration of sound. If she didn’t feel a step away from death, she’d be as cozy as hushpuppies on a catfish platter. The warm body of her cat curled up against her and nestled in the lap of her man. No, that wasn’t right. Hank McHenry wasn’t her man. Even if it felt like he should be.
Lulled by a sense of security stronger than the pounding in her head and the ache in her body she drifted into sleep. She didn’t wake again until the truck engine was killed and the bright dome light cut through the cover of her eyelids.
* * * * *
Victor paced his cell back and forth, back and forth. He ran his fingers through his blond hair, leaving it standing on end. Incompetence. Everywhere he turned he dealt with incompetence. Another man had failed to get the amulet. It came, he supposed, from dealing with mortals. A class he no longer placed himself in. He was a god. The amulets had made him so. He took a deep breath. He just had to be patient a little longer. After all, gods lived forever. What was another week or month or year in this cold, drab cell?
Chapter Six
The car door opened with a groan. “What the hell happened to her?”
Maureen. Did I know she was coming? Yes, I think so.
Maureen and she were so different. When they’d first met, Maureen had taken an instant dislike to Bella. Most women did. From that dislike a friendship had shoved its way through, blossomed and grown, forming the first impenetrable link in the amulet sisterhood. Bella created and restored beauty. Maureen healed.
Cool hands touched her face and she felt a jolt of renewal like a narcotic or painkiller coursing through her body. Maureen was wearing the healing amulet.
“If you’ll back up, Marnie, I’ll slide out from here and move Bella to the SUV.” Hank gently lifted Bella’s head and slid out from under her.
“Jack, it’s good to see you.” Hank’s voice came from outside the cab.
Bella’s eyes fluttered open. As she watched, Hank pumped Jack’s hand. Half-Caucasian, half-Native American, Jack Wolfe, Maureen’s fiancé, was as handsome as the devil. He wrote about myths and legends in Native American cultures and held a doctorate in history, his specialty folklore.
The jolt from the healing amulet gave her a false sense of security. She tried to sit up and crumpled back into the seat.
Hank grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her in his arms. “Jack, if you’ll drive the truck, the rest of us will ride in the SUV.”
She soaked up the warmth of his hard body like a flower lifting its face to the sun. Blinking, she looked around. They were parked in a brightly lit rest stop. Dawn approached. Deep rose merged into shades of pearly gray and hovered over the landscape. For a wonder her vision wasn’t blurred. Thank you, Maureen.
Jack looked inside, a dubious expression on his handsome features. “What about the cat?”
“Bathroom break,” Bella whispered.
Hank raised an eyebrow, still holding Bella in his arms. “You or the cat?”
“Cat,” she breathed.
“What if he runs away?” Jack asked.
As if he understood, Puss–Puss gave him a disdainful look, hopped out of the truck, ran to the SUV parked next to it and sprayed the tires.
Jack’s lips formed a tight, straight line.
Maureen cleared her throat and coughed as if fighting back a laugh.
“Let’s move out,” Hank said, already walking toward the SUV. Maureen ran over and opened the back door. She climbed in and motioned for Hank to lay Bella down in her lap.
Bella found herself settled into the comfortable leather interior that smelled of aftershave and horses. Puss–Puss hopped into the SUV and, turning in a tight circle, curled in a ball at her feet.
With a touch as light as an angel’s, Maureen lowered Bella’s head to her lap. Once again Bella felt a jolt of healing. She opened her eyes in time to see a spasm of pain cross Maureen’s face as Bella’s pain shot through Maureen’s system and into the healing amulet.
Bella grabbed Maureen’s hand then dropped it as Maureen winced. She looked up into Maureen’s face. “Short intervals. Promise me, you’ll do this in short intervals and not tax yourself.”
Maureen looked down, smiled and brushed back Bella’s silky blonde hair. “I promise.”
The pain was already receding. Her head no longer felt like it was split open. She let herself drift on the pleasant sensations coming through Maureen’s fingertips from the amulet.
Maureen frowned down at her. “You look like you’ve been in a catfight. Where’s your amulet?”
“Hank has it,” Bella mumbled, enjoying the pleasurable sensation of receding pain.
“By god he does, doesn’t he?”
Bella opened her eyes to see Maureen staring at Hank.
She turned her head and looked at the ranch hand. “Oh my lord. Sugar, you take my breath away,” she told Hank.
The SUV swerved sharply to the right, bounced along the edge then straightened.
But it was true. In Bella’s eyes, Hank McHenry had always been ruggedly handsome. Now those looks were more defined. She studied his profile from lowered lids. The pinkish-gray morning light haloed his head. Good god, he looked as smooth and lethal as an expensive malt whiskey with a kick to it.
He was still Hank but the crow lines around the eyes and laugh lines around the mouth looked like someone had taken sandpaper and rubbed them out. His face still held character and something more, a to-the-bone male sensuality that she found both tempting and off-putting. She had to get her amulet away from him before she melted in a puddle in the car seat. She closed her eyes. She’d had about all the excitement she could take in one sitting.
“I want my amulet back.” Her voice was weak and breathy.
Maureen bent down, her hair falling across Bella’s forehead. “What’s that, Bella?”
“I want my…” And drifted off to sleep.
The drone of semis finally woke her. Bella opened her eyes and looked into Maureen’s haggard face. She was clueless as to how often Maureen had laid hands on her while she slept but considering that she felt considerably better and Maureen looked like she’d been run over by the truck cruising in the next lane, she would wager that it was more than the stubborn woman should have.
Bella leaned forward, sat upright and scooted to the other side of the seat. Her head spun then settled into place. Better. Much better. She looked down at herself. The various cuts and bruises on her body were healed. The only signs they’d been there were the rents in her clothing and the dirt on her skin. She looked over at Maureen. “Sugar, you look like hell.”
“If you think you look any better you need to be reunited with your mirror,” Maureen snapped. Her jaws popped as a huge yawn escaped.
“Touch your amulet, sugar,” Bella advised then grinned. She was sure there were several inventive expletives trying to escape Maureen’s tightly compressed lips.
Throwing her a dirty look, Maureen lifted her hand and touched her armband. The tension lines riding her forehead and drawing the skin tight over her cheekbones eased under the effects of the amethyst.
Bella reached for her friend’s hand to give it a comforting squeeze then dropped it in her lap. It would just sap more of Maureen’s strength. “Sugar, why don’t you try to get some sleep?”
Maureen leaned over, reaching out her hand. “I need to have one more go at you, Bella.”
Bella flattened herself against the door. “You’ve done enough. My vision is no longer blurred, no headaches and no nausea. My brain is back where it’s supposed to be and not slogging around like a cracked egg.”
Ignoring her, Maureen leaned farther and grabbed her arm. She held on, even when Bella tugged at it. Maureen grimaced but didn’t let go.
Bella looked up to see Hank watching her in the review mirror. Their eyes locked and held. Bella felt like she was floating, whether from those calm gray eyes or from Maureen’s transference of healing energy, she wasn’t quite sure.
The semi next to them gave a long, insistent honk. Hank broke eye contact and jerked on the wheel, pulling it back from the lane it had wandered into. “Don’t fight it, Bella.”
She wrinkled her forehead, chewing on that one. Don’t fight Maureen helping her or don’t fight the attraction that ran between them like high voltage on an electric fence?
Looking out the window at flat green fields rolling by, she muttered, “I hate this. I feel like a big, fat, bloodsucking leech.”
“When we get back to the ranch, she can sleep it off,” Hank replied, hunkering over the steering wheel.
“It’s so unfair. She goes through so much while I have it so, so,” she waved her free hand around and finished, “easy.”
Maureen jerked and she released Bella. “You’re healed. And don’t talk about me in the third person when I’m sitting right here,” she added irritably. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead and her skin took on a grayish pallor.
Bella grabbed her hand back and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks, sugar, I owe you big time.”
Her head drooping
, Maureen nodded.
Bella scooted to the edge of the seat. “Lie down, honey,” she told Maureen.
Maureen slid down sideways and curled her legs up under her.
Seeing an exit sign up ahead, Bella pointed. “Pull over and get that girl some coffee and food. Where are we anyway?”
“Northern Illinois. Not much farther now.” Hank kept his eyes on the sedan in front of him that kept speeding up and slowing down. Finally it pulled into the passing lane.
Putting on his blinker, he turned onto the exit ramp. Fast food restaurants dotted the landscape. “Where do you want to stop?”
Bella spied golden arches and pointed.
“She’s a vegetarian, you know,” Hank said, flicking on his turn signal.
She flashed him a grin. “I’ve convinced her that after these drains on her body she needs protein.”
He pulled in the drive-up lane. As the loudspeaker crackled, he placed his order.
“Please pull around.” The words blared over the loudspeaker.
Hank did as directed. At the next window he paid and picked up the warm bag holding the food. The smell of hot fries and fresh coffee filled the interior, causing Bella’s mouth to water. Her stomach growled in anticipation.
Bella grabbed one of the warm cups and took a sip. As the fresh sharp liquid touched her tongue and slid down her throat Bella almost moaned in pleasure. All was right with her world.
Hank handed her the sack, pulled out of the parking lot and merged with the traffic.
Squatting on the edge of the seat, Bella gave Maureen a light shake. “Wake up, honey.”
Maureen pushed herself upright.
Bella handed her a burger and a cup of hot, steaming coffee and held the sack of fries, crusted with salt, for her.
Nearly too exhausted to eat, Maureen choked down half the fries then took a couple of bites of the sandwich and handed it back to Bella before sinking back against the seat. “I can’t eat any more meat, Bella, it will make me sick.”