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Rocky Mountain Miracle

Page 5

by Christine Feehan


  “Do you have children of your own?” she asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you’d never let anyone get that close to you. You must have been terrified when you were named guardian to this boy. Why did you say you’d do it?”

  “What is it they all say? So I can murder him and get all the money instead of sharing it with a kid.”

  “You don’t even change expression when you hand out your nonsense. Don’t worry, Steele, I don’t want to know your deep dark secrets.”

  “You think I have secrets? I thought my life was an open book. Haven’t the gossips given you the scoop on me?” The snow was nearly blinding him as he maneuvered the road. At the rate it was coming down, he wasn’t certain they would make it to the ranch before the road became impassable. Even if he could call Al to bring out the snowplow, he wasn’t all that certain it would do any good. They were no longer in front of the storm but in the thick of it.

  “Don’t you have secrets? Doesn’t everyone?” Maia wanted to keep talking. She would have chosen to sit it out rather than continue driving. It was becoming difficult to see more than a foot in front of the truck.

  “Even you, Doc? Do you have secrets as well? You’re always laughing and seem so carefree, yet you move from place to place, no home, nothing permanent in your life. No boyfriend who’ll get upset when you move on.”

  “Who said I don’t have a boyfriend? And I usually fill in for the same vets, so I make a lot of friends along the way.”

  “You don’t have a boyfriend, or you wouldn’t have let me get away with putting my hands on you while we were dancing. You aren’t that kind of woman.”

  Shocked, she turned toward him, but he was staring out the window into the driving snow. “A compliment. Who would have thought?” Maia burrowed deeper into his jacket. The inside of the car was warm enough, but his jacket gave her a sense of security. She could smell his scent, masculine and outdoorsy, the spice of his aftershave. He drove with the same confidence he did everything, and it helped ease her anxiety a bit, but they seemed to be enfolded in a white, silent world. She wished he’d play music just to keep her nerves from jangling. She had nothing else to hang on to but their conversation. And he wasn’t comfortable with making small talk.

  “Why don’t you have your own practice?” Cole asked, flicking a quick glance her way.

  Maia stiffened. Her eyes held a wariness that hadn’t been there before.

  “Maia, it was an idle question to keep the conversation going. You don’t have to answer. I detest people prying into my private life.”

  He heard her swift, indrawn breath, and saw her turn toward the passenger-side window. Cole was ready instantly for trouble, peering through the windshield to try to see what might be coming at him beyond the heavy shroud of snow. He spotted dark shapes running alongside them, slipping in and out of his field of vision. “What the hell is that?”

  “Wolves.”

  He didn’t dare take his eyes off the road to look at her. Cole concentrated on driving, alert for the moment the wolves would run out in front of the Land Cruiser. He didn’t doubt it was wolves. Jase and he owned several thousand acres, and their ranch backed up to the national forest where wolves had been relocated.

  “The wolves have always stayed away from my ranch and well back into the forest. What’s bringing them out?” He glanced at her. Somehow she knew. “You’ve known the animals were there each time before we saw them, before they jumped out in front of us.”

  “How could I?”

  He didn’t listen to the words so much as her voice. It was strained and trembling. She was lying to him. She knew, but he couldn’t figure out how. “I don’t know, but you reacted, bracing yourself.”

  “I must have seen them.”

  A mournful howl rose, sending a shiver down Maia’s spine. A second, then a third wolf joined in. A chorus followed them, long, drawn-out notes of warning. She bit down on her knuckles to keep her teeth from chattering.

  “What are they doing?” Cole asked. “Why are they running alongside the truck in hunting mode? And the owl, it was coming in as if hunting, head back, talons extended, coming right at me.” Even to him, it sounded completely ridiculous. Had he not been trapped in the middle of a snowstorm, he wouldn’t have ever said such a bizarre thing, yet it felt right, not strange.

  “I have a certain affinity with animals,” Maia admitted. She sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t ask what it meant. She didn’t know what it meant. “Stop! Don’t hit it.” She flung out her hand to brace herself on the dashboard as he fought the Land Cruiser to a halt without even seeing what was in the road.

  Before he could stop her, Maia was out of the vehicle, dragging a bag with her, disappearing into the swirling white flakes. Cole slammed his fist against the steering wheel, pulled a gun from where it was holstered in concealment on his calf, and checked the load before he shoved open his own door.

  The snow swirled around him immediately, engulfing him in a white, silent world and as fast shifted with the wind to allow him glimpses of the animals and Maia. He heard the chuffing of the wolves as they surrounded the vehicle. Maia crooned to something in the distance. He began to move toward her, watching the wild creatures warily. Immediately the chuffing turned to warning growls. He froze, trying to peer through the heavy fall of snow. The wind blasted through the canyon, and he saw her crouched over something on the ground.

  “Maia? I didn’t hit it, did I?”

  “No, it was injured earlier. I’ll just be a minute. Get back in the Cruiser. The wolves are getting agitated.”

  “I’ll stay here and watch your back.”

  She hissed her displeasure. Actually hissed. He heard it. “I can’t protect you while I’m working. Get in the car and wait for me.” It was a definite order.

  The wind blew a blanket of snow between them again, and when it lifted, he could see the darker shapes slinking around them. He stayed where he was, afraid of disturbing the precarious balance Maia seemed to have. The next blast of chilling wind revealed her straightening and backing away from the shape on the ground, clutching her bag in her hand. She walked quickly toward the Cruiser as the wolf jumped to its feet, shook itself, and hurried off.

  The moment he slid in beside her, her gaze went to the gun in his hand. “Good grief. I thought you couldn’t carry a gun once you’d been in jail.”

  “Ranchers need guns.” He shoved it back into his leg holster and glared at her. “The next time you decide to take a stroll with a bunch of wolves in a blizzard, let me know ahead of time.” He wanted to shake her although she was already shivering uncontrollably and covered in white and that instantly made him feel protective of her.

  “I’ll do that.” She didn’t sound as tough as she would have liked with her teeth chattering. “Is that heater putting out any heat?”

  “Yes, you should warm up again in a minute.” He was cautious as he began maneuvering along the road, alert for any more animals. “Are you going to explain what just happened?”

  Maia pushed the alarming warnings out of her mind and shook her head. “I don’t think there is an explanation. Do you want to tell me how you get away with carrying a gun?”

  “I hide it.”

  “I’m not buying that. You wouldn’t risk losing Jase over it. You’re not even on parole are you? Is all the gossip untrue? Have you ever been in prison?”

  He sighed. “Maia, I have a job. I’m good at what I do, and I’m good because I don’t answer questions. Most people I just tell to go to hell, or look at them and they shut up. Why don’t you believe what everyone else wants to believe and make it easy on me?”

  She leaned back against the seat, for the first time relaxing. “Because it’s all made up, and I prefer to hear the real story. What kind of job do you have?”

  Exasperated, he glared at her. “It isn’t going to happen.”

  She thought it was progress that he didn’t tell her to go to hell.

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  4

  “I’M GOING TO PULL YOUR RIG into the barn. You’ll need all your equipment, right?” Cole asked.

  Maia nodded as she climbed into the backseat. “Keep looking straight ahead while I change into my scrubs. I don’t have a lot of clothes with me and I don’t want to get everything filthy.”

  “I do have a washing machine.”

  “Since I only have what I’m wearing and my scrubs, I’m not taking any chances,” she said.

  He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She was shocked to see humor creeping into his eyes. It wasn’t much, and it faded fast, but it was there. “I managed to keep this thing on the road through animals running out in front of me and a blizzard, but now you’re asking just a little too much. I’m not exactly a saint.”

  Maia wiggled out of her jeans and dragged her familiar soft cotton, drawstring pants over her hips. “You will get us into an accident if you don’t watch what you’re doing.” She tossed her shirt aside and pulled her loose top over her head, showing the minimum amount of skin. “And I’ll bet no one has ever accused you of being a saint.” She whistled as Cole honked the horn in front of a large building. “Nice setup.”

  The doors swung open to allow him to drive inside. The barn was huge and very clean, obviously used as a hospital for the animals on the ranch when needed.

  Jase Steele waited anxiously as they parked the Cruiser in the huge barn. Maia saw his face, puffy and swollen from shedding tears he thought no one would see. The boy was unable to hide his relief as Cole unfolded his large frame from the Land Cruiser. “It’s bad, Cole,” he greeted.

  “Let the vet take a look, Jase,” Cole advised. For one moment he thought about hugging the kid, but he couldn’t quite find a way to do it. Instead, he handed the teenager one of the packs. “We’ll need your help.”

  “I would have put the horse down, Mr. Steele,” Al Benton said, “but the boy refused to let me.”

  “Were you able to tell how this happened?” Cole asked, choosing his words carefully.

  Al scowled. “Someone had to have run him into the fence, Mr. Steele. His rump had a couple of welts on it.”

  “Who was around?”

  “All the hands were already gone when Jase called me.”

  Cole let his breath out slowly. Al hadn’t been with Jase. That didn’t sit well with him. Doubt tickled at his brain, even though he didn’t want to think the boy could have done such a thing. It made him feel like a monster even to entertain such a notion. He ticked suspects off in his mind. Al, the ranch hands, Jase. The ranch hands were working away from the main house and shouldn’t have been there. He shook his head to rid himself of the persistent doubt about his younger brother. If he was lucky, it was a legitimate accident. Maia was already walking briskly toward the horse, and he trailed after her, grateful for the distraction.

  “The wounds are down to the bone, Mr. Steele. The horse isn’t going to be any good for work,” Al said.

  Maia flashed a brief smile in the foreman’s general direction “Let’s not draw any hasty conclusions. I haven’t had a chance to assess the damage yet.” She glanced at Jase. “You did great getting him in out of the snow and putting him in the stocks so he can’t move.”

  “Al helped me,” Jase said. “He’s been quiet.” He patted the horse’s neck, his hand trembling. “He didn’t give us any trouble at all.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “His official name is Celtic High, but I call him Wally.” His gaze shifted toward Cole, then away.

  “Let me see what I can do for him.” Maia put her hand on the horse’s neck as she moved around to look into its eyes. Her stomach somersaulted. Images crowded in fast and ugly. Brutal, mean memories of an animal watching helplessly as a boy was beaten and taunted and cruelly punished for nonexistent crimes. The images were harsh and jumbled together. The animal’s sorrow and pain, both physical and emotional, beat at her.

  She saw through the horse’s eyes, memories of young Jase hiding repeatedly in his stall, only to be dragged out again and again while the animal could do nothing to help him. She felt the familiar lurching in her stomach, the sweat beading on her body and the strange dizziness that always accompanied revelations the animals passed to her. It was her greatest gift, and a terrible curse. She could do nothing to help the children and animals she saw coming through her practice. She could only remain silent, just as the animal was forced to do, and move on, move away.

  “Maia?” Cole’s hand went to her back to steady her. “Put your head down.”

  She kept her hands firmly against the horse, forcing herself to see what the animal was willing to share. Something stinging his rump. The shadow of a big man in the snow, raising his arm and slamming it down with purpose. Repeated lashings across the hind legs and rump until the horse ran without thought into the fence in a desperate effort to escape the terrible blows. Too big to be Al or Jase. Wide enough shoulders to be Cole, but the horse displayed no nervousness near him.

  “Maia.” Cole gripped her hard. “You’re as white as a sheet. She was sweating too, and her gaze was filled with a kind of horror. It had nothing to do with the gaping wounds or the blood. He knew it was something else, something entirely different.

  Maia shook her head, letting go of the horse’s neck and stepping back. “I’m all right.” She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at Jase. Who had done such things to the boy? Who had kicked him? Broken bones? Killed pets in front of him? He’s fourteen, and he hated the old man. She remembered the icy cold of Cole’s voice when he’d made the statement. But Brett Steele was dead. Who had cruelly tormented the horse until it had rushed headlong into a strong fence, nearly killing itself?

  Maia forced herself to appear normal. “I’m not the best traveler.” She used her stethoscope to check the horse’s heart, lungs, and bowel sounds, which gave her some time to compose herself before she faced the Steele brothers.

  “If you don’t need me, Mr. Steele,” Al said, “I’ll be head- ing back to the house before it gets so bad I can’t make it. My wife’s called a hundred times already worried.”

  “Yes, by all means, Al,” Cole’s gaze was on Maia’s pale face. He didn’t take his hand from her back. He could feel the small tremors running through her body. “Be careful. This storm looks bad. I take it all the animals are bedded down in sheltered areas?” His tone implied they’d better be.

  “Yes, sir. It was all taken care of before I let the hands go home.” Al turned back. “I know this isn’t the best time, but Fred, my wife’s brother, came by again looking to get his job back. He’s a good hand, Mr. Steele. He’s got a couple of kids. It’s not like there’s a lot of work this time of year.”

  Jase whipped his head around, his face still and white. The horse suddenly moved, reacting to the boy’s sudden tension. The movement flooded the animal with pain, but the bay rubbed its head against Jase in an attempt to comfort him. The gesture immediately brought the teenager’s attention back to the animal.

  Cole’s fingers, on Maia’s back, pressed deeper into her skin. There was heat there, a touch of anger. “I told you no, Al. No one who worked for Brett Steele will ever work for me or for Jase. I know he visits you, but I don’t even like the man to set foot on this property. I’ve looked the other way because I know family’s important to you and your wife, but I don’t want to see him and I don’t want him to go anywhere on the ranch other than to your home. Is that understood?” His voice was ice-cold and carried a whip.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And I don’t want you to bring this matter up again.” It was a distinct threat. Even Maia recognized it as such. She glanced at Jase, who was stroking the Bay’s neck. She touched Cole’s wrist. Gently. Reminding him he wasn’t alone. Lines etched his face, and he looked quite capable of anything. Even murder. If she could see the buried rage rising up to swirl so close to the surface, so could Jase.

  Cole let his breath out slowly, trying to rel
ieve the anger boiling up in him. Al kept hammering away at getting his brother-in-law a job, but one look at Jase’s pale face told him the man had been present during one or more beatings. He felt like smashing something, preferably Al’s face for bringing up the subject yet again and putting that look back on the boy’s face.

  “Yes, Mr. Steele,” Al said and turned and walked away.

  Cole looked at Maia. “You ready to do this?” What he wanted to do was thank her, but the words stuck in his throat. Jase looked as if he couldn’t take much more.

  “Al wanted to put him down,” Jase said. “He kept telling me it was best. I knew the horse was suffering, Cole, but I couldn’t let him go.”

  “I told you to hang on,” Cole said. “Let’s see what the Doc has to say.”

  Maia took the horse’s head in her hands a second time and looked into his eyes, acknowledging pain and memories, giving brief reassurance. She didn’t care if the Steele brothers thought she was a nutcase, the horse deserved some comfort before she went to work. When she was certain the animal understood what she was going to do, she began her inspection, her face carefully blank as she evaluated the damage. “Left hock has a three-inch laceration with bone exposed. Right hock, most wounds are superficial abrasions. We have a left front dorsal forearm laceration through the muscle down to the bone, approximately five inches long. We have major splintering from the fence around the laceration, one piece fairly large.” It looked like a stake to her, but she was very matter-of-fact, aware of Jase watching her every expression. She put her hand on his shoulder. “We can deal with this if you’re willing to help out. First I need to give him painkillers and start him on antibiotics, then we’ll get to work.”

  Jase watched her preparing syringes, his eyes wide. “What are you giving him?”

 

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