Primal Calling

by Jillian Burns

  He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I’ll call her cell. Okay?”

  “Ii. Find her.” She hung up.

  She’d forced her business card into his pocket before he’d left her in Nome, but he’d trashed it once he got home. Now, he dug through the wastebasket by his dresser. Come on…there it was.

  He dialed her cell number and it went straight to voice. He thought about his grandmother’s vision and worry kicked into high gear.

  Two quick calls. One to a friend at the airport to check if anyone matching Serena’s description was waiting around for any of the morning flights leaving Barrow. And the second, to the only car rental in town, to see if Serena had returned her car yet. Both answers were no.

  Dammit. She could be anywhere. But nowhere warm unless she’d gone to the twenty-four hour store. He called there, but he knew the answer he would hear. No one fitting that description. He called the police. They’d already received her 911 call and had issued a “be on the lookout” for her. But they didn’t have the manpower to send out any more than the two squad cars already patrolling.

  He thought of his curse and felt the truth of his grandmother’s vision deep in his gut. Another person he’d come into contact with was going to die.

  Tamping down his dread, he yanked on his boots, grabbed his parka and gloves and the keys to his truck and whistled for Mickey. “Come on, boy.” He opened the truck door and the dog leaped into the passenger’s seat. Max decided to try the route from the North Slope Inn to the airport first.

  Between the sleet and the fog, searching was slow and tedious. She’d been driving a light gold SUV. Not a color that stood out. With every minute that passed, Max’s chest tightened a little more. How long had she been missing? How could he live with himself if something happened to her?

  He’d driven every street in Barrow twice when he made one last turn onto a dead-end street no one ever used except to get to the lake. The lake! It should be frozen solid, but the ice was melting sooner every year. What if she’d driven onto it? Would it hold that SUV? His heart pummeled his chest. His stomach roiled. He sped up, and almost missed the slowly flashing emergency lights on the SUV.

  Slamming on his brakes, he skidded on the icy road and the truck spun 360 degrees. Max jumped out and ran to the rental car half on its side in the ditch.

  How long had she been sitting out here? What if she’d hit her head and bled out? Or hypothermia had already set in?

  He hadn’t gotten to her in time. It would be just like Shelley all over again. He hadn’t gotten her to the hospital in time either. Memories of that night flashed through his mind. Shelley screaming in pain. The blood. So much blood. Then he was back in the plane, covered in blood and the man screaming in pain. No matter how much he told himself he didn’t believe in such a thing, he knew this was because of his curse.

  Eventually, everyone he cared about left him, or died.

  Gulping in air, he saw the SUV as if through a tunnel. He doubled over, bracing his hands on his knees. Get it under control, Taggert. He was no good to Serena if he panicked. He drew in a deep breath. And then another.

  He got to the car door and opened it. Serena was unconscious, but there was no blood. He felt her head for injuries and found none. A knot formed in his throat and he couldn’t speak for a second. “Serena!” Her skin was cold to the touch, and her heartbeat was slow. Not good. Much longer without warming her up and it would be too late. “Serena, wake up.” He rubbed her cheek. “Serena!”

  She wasn’t waking up. He had to raise her body temperature. Now.

  He unclipped her seat belt, scooped her up into his arms and got her into his truck with the heater running full blast. “Keep her warm, Mickey.” The dog laid his chest on Serena’s lap, his front paws hanging over the other side.

  Max didn’t remember the drive to the hospital. She still hadn’t woken up. He skidded the truck to a stop at the emergency room doors, and carried her up to the check-in desk. “She’s been exposed to the cold a couple hours at least. I think she’s hypothermic.”

  Medics guided him to a curtained-off bed and before he’d slipped his arms out from under her, one of them took her temperature. “Eighty-nine-point-three,” she announced.

  Another nurse started an IV and the one who’d taken her temperature placed a heated blanket over her, and then asked him to leave.

  He wandered back to the waiting area, and the reception nurse called him up to fill out paperwork.

  His hand was shaking as he took the clipboard and sat in the world’s most uncomfortable plastic chair. As much time as he’d spent in this hospital’s waiting room, he should know.

  He closed his eyes and willed Serena to pull through. Come on, Serena, wake up. He wanted to be in there, holding her.

  This was just like last time. Fourteen years ago. Same emergency room. Same helpless feeling…

  Too many memories, too many images had tumbled around in his brain lately. Things he hadn’t let himself think of in a long time.

  Shelley hadn’t deserved to die so young. She’d been the sweetest girl. So shy and gentle.

  He wiped a hand over his mouth and realized his cheeks were wet. Clearing his throat, he stood, returned the clipboard to the desk with the forms incomplete and walked out.

  SOMEONE WAS CALLING her name. Serena’s mind cleared from the dream, and she woke up.

  “Serena. Can you hear me?”

  She opened her eyes, or at least she thought she did. But they closed again. “I’m awake,” she tried to say. But it came out as gibberish. What was wrong with her? She felt so groggy. She forced her eyes open again and saw white ceiling tiles. Where was she? She turned her head and tried to ask the voice.

  “Serena, you’re in the hospital.”

  Max? What was Max doing here? Wasn’t he mad at her?

  Max’s callused hand swept her hair out of her face and lifted her chin until she was looking into his eyes. He wasn’t mad. He was…scared.

  She was shaking uncontrollably. She questioned him with her eyes. “Mags?”

  “It’s all right.” He held her hand while her teeth chattered so hard she thought she’d crack a tooth. What was wrong with her?

  “You have hypothermia, Serena. But you’re going to be all right.” He kept holding her hand, stroking her arm and murmuring soothing things to her.

  Once her shaking had lessened, needles pricked her skin, painful and sharp. Max called a nurse and they gave her something to help.

  “Better?” Max asked after the nurse left, leaning over her with worried eyes.

  She smiled and nodded, clinging to his hand. So glad he was there.

  The last thing she remembered was Max stroking her hair and smiling.

  SERENA DREW in a deep breath and snuggled deeper under the warm covers. She opened her eyes from a really great dream and saw Max, slumped in a chair beside her bed. His eyes were closed in sleep, his head fallen back, but his hand still held hers.

  Lines creased his face. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his once clean shaven jaw sported a thick five-o’clock shadow. He must have been here a long time.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away and pulled off her oxygen mask. She didn’t remember getting to the hospital. Had the police found her and called Max?

  What was she going to do about him? Did this mean he believed she hadn’t been going to snoop? Or merely that he forgave her?

  A nurse bustled in to check her vitals and Max straightened in his chair. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his shaggy black hair, then his gaze found hers.

  “Your heart rate is normal, Ms. Sandstone. Everything else looks good. You should be able to go home today.” She smiled and left.

  Serena smiled at Max. “Hi.”

  He didn’t return her smile this time. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “What happened? I remember calling the police and then being so sleepy.”

  “You almost died, Serena. What were you
thinking driving in the dark and not telling anyone you were leaving?”

  What, he could only be nice when she was dying? She glared at him. “Why are you here, anyway? Who called you?”

  “He’s the one who found you and brought you in,” Arna spoke from the doorway.

  Chris smiled and waved from behind his wife. “Is this a good time to visit?”

  Max had found her? Her anger evaporated. She looked back at him. He’d stood and paced to the window, staring out at another cloudy day.

  “Sure, come on in.” She smiled at the couple who had been so nice to her. Guilt assailed her for not having had the guts to tell them goodbye. “I’m sorry for the way I left. I—I wasn’t thinking clearly, obviously.”

  “We’re just glad you are well now.” This from Arna, who cracked a half smile for a minuscule second.

  “We brought you these.” Chris swung a small bouquet of silk flowers from behind his back.

  “Aw, Chris, how sweet.” She smiled at him and at Arna. “Thank you.”

  “Max,” Chris said. “I took Mickey for a walk like you asked.”

  Max swung around to face Chris. “Thanks.”

  Chris turned back to Serena. “Max hasn’t left your side since he took care of having your rental towed yesterday morning.”

  Serena caught Max’s impenetrable gaze. “Really?”

  “I’ll leave you guys to visit.” Max nodded solemnly to the couple and headed for the door.

  “You don’t have to go,” Serena protested, and Chris repeated her sentiments, even if his statement didn’t have the same desperate quality to it.

  Max just waved a hand and left.

  The room seemed colder, emptier. Serena forced a smile and invited Arna to have a seat. “So, how did Max know to come looking for me?”

  “Evelyn had a vision,” Arna said as she took the chair Max had been sitting in. Chris moved to stand beside her, draping his arm around her shoulders.

  “Oh.” Serena wasn’t sure how she felt about these so-called visions. She still didn’t understand the whole shaman thing and that weird stuff Evelyn had said. Something about Serena being the Searching One, and her spirit guides?

  “Max has been like a man obsessed.” Chris shook his head. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”

  “I have,” Arna said.

  “When?” Serena asked.

  “I was a candy striper here the day his wife died.” Arna’s expression was blank, but there was purpose in her eyes.

  “Arna, you said we shouldn’t talk about Max’s past.” Chris frowned at his wife.

  She glanced up at her husband. “I was there. That’s not rumor or gossip.”

  Chris blinked at his wife’s distinction. “Okay.” He shrugged. “Back then, I was only ten and still living in Seattle with my parents.” He gave her a rueful grin.

  “Um, do you know what happened to his wife?” If Chris had been ten that meant it had happened around fifteen years ago. Max had to have still been in high school. And his wife, too.

  “Yes,” Arna answered.

  Serena waited, expecting her to elaborate. Arna didn’t. When Serena looked to Chris, he just shrugged and stared down at his wife.

  “So, you want me to ask Max?”

  “Yes.” Arna grinned and Serena wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it.

  “We will go now.” Arna stood.

  “Oh, by the way,” Chris said, and stepped toward her bed. “Max has your things at his place. He didn’t want to leave your purse and laptop here.”

  Serena thanked them for visiting, getting a hug from Chris and a wave from Arna before they left.

  Soon after, the doctor came by, signed her release papers and she was free to go. But go where? And how? She could call a cab and head for the airport, but she couldn’t pay for the ride without her purse. And what about this hospital bill?

  After finding her clothes in a tiny closet, she got dressed and then inquired at the nurse’s station and was told her insurance would be billed. Guess Max had gone through her purse for her insurance card.

  What was she going to do now? A volunteer was waiting in her room with a wheelchair and she reluctantly sat, folding her ski jacket in her lap. There were always cabs waiting outside hospitals. Maybe she’d go back to the North Slope Inn and ask Chris to loan her the money for the cab and retrieve her things from Max. But she hated to impose on him after skulking away from them in the middle of the night.

  Argh. Maybe she’d just ask the volunteer to wheel her up to the psychiatric ward.

  But when she got to the exit doors, there was Max, standing outside, leaning against his battered old truck with his arms folded over his chest. The wind blew the fur on his parka, and, though it was undoubtedly cloudy and cold, at least it wasn’t sleeting.

  Max saw her, pushed off his truck and opened the passenger door. Retrieving the Iñupiat parka she’d left at the North Slope Inn, he met her just inside the automatic glass doors.

  “Where to?”

  12

  MAX COULDN’T take his eyes off Serena as she rose from the wheelchair. She cocked her head in that way she had with her eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

  “You didn’t leave.”

  He pointed his chin in the direction of the hospital’s cafeteria. “Got some coffee.”

  Maybe it was the black sweater she wore, but she looked paler, more vulnerable.

  She had almost died.

  Yet she was looking at him as if he’d just driven his dogsled a thousand miles to deliver lifesaving medicine. As if he was some kind of hero. She wouldn’t have been out in that car at that time of night if he hadn’t lost his temper. Or if he’d trusted her. “So, where to?” He repeated his question.

  “Why are you here?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “You don’t have a car anymore. And even if you did, it’s not like I’d let you drive yourself.”

  She didn’t smile. “I can take a cab.” She pointed at the two cabs parked nearby.

  Max clenched his teeth. “Serena, just get in the truck, okay?” He held the thick parka out to her.

  Her eyes sparked and she set her chin. Just as he was ready to walk away, she said, “Okay,” grabbed the coat and brushed past him out the door.

  He probably should’ve let her take the cab. He still wasn’t convinced she’d been telling the truth. He didn’t know what the hell to think anymore. He only knew he wasn’t ready to take her to the airport and put her on a plane.

  He climbed into his truck and slammed the rusty door. Before he could start the engine, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled back, took a deep breath. “I…shouldn’t have lost my temper.” Without waiting for a response, he put the truck in gear.

  Dammit. He tried to stare straight ahead but she cupped his cheek, turned him to face her and touched her lips to his. “I didn’t read your papers, Max. Please believe me.”

  Her dark blue eyes, so earnest, begging him to believe her. She shouldn’t have to. He knew deep down she’d told the truth. He’d just been so damn angry he hadn’t wanted to see it.

  He’d never been more vulnerable to a woman than that night. Letting her in, to his home and his heart. Like Samson to her Delilah, he’d shaved himself of all shields. And to see her standing there holding those papers had thrown his powerlessness in his face.

  He gripped the back of her head and took her sweet mouth, kissing her so he wouldn’t have to say the words. I believe you. I just lost my temper. I’m sorry.

  “Max.” She sighed into his mouth, kissing him back, swirling her tongue with his. “Take me home.” A mumble against his lips.

  Reluctantly, he pulled back, took a deep breath and put the truck in gear.

  As he drove he snuck a glance at her now and then. What did she think would happen now? What was going on in that beautiful head of hers? With Serena he never knew what she�
�d do next. What was that old saying? Never a dull moment? Or was it an old curse? May you never be bored?

  At the cabin, Mickey greeted Serena with obvious joy. They were a pair. Openly affectionate, no reservations when it came to her feelings.

  He cleared his throat. “How about some lunch?”

  Her eyes lit up. “That sounds wonderful. I’m starving.”

  Pulling out his wallet, he ordered a large pizza with the works. Serena went to take a shower, and Max threw some logs on the grate and got a fire going.

  Thirty minutes later they were chowing down in his kitchen. Serena made the barest attempt at small talk until she finished her second slice and declared herself stuffed.

  Was she waiting for him to ask her to stay? She’d wait forever. “Serena, what are we doing here?”

  She set her glass of water down and met his gaze with a determined look. “Arna says I should ask you what happened to your wife and child.”

  Max stopped chewing. What the— He shoved away from the table and paced without seeing where he ended up. The woman was determined to strip him bare. He didn’t want to talk about it.

  Serena followed him into the den, took the photo from the bookshelf and studied it. “You were both so young.”

  They had been. In some ways it seemed a lifetime ago. And sometimes it felt as fresh as yesterday.

  “She looks like she was a sweet girl. Happy.”

  He faced Serena. “She was.” Sighing, he moved to the sofa and sank down. Serena wasn’t going to let this go. “We were high school sweethearts.” He’d had a crush on her since sixth grade, but didn’t think she even knew he was alive. Most of the girls didn’t want anything to do with him because he was always getting into fights. He was taller than most of the boys, and didn’t go out of his way to smile or be nice to anyone.

  “What was her name?” Serena asked.

  He looked up. “Shelley.”

  She’d lent him a piece of notebook paper one day in eighth grade and braved a sweet smile at him. That was all it took. She’d become the center of his existence.

  “I got her pregnant our senior year and we got married.” His gaze drifted, seeing the past. He hadn’t been upset when she told him she was pregnant. He’d been thrilled. He’d wanted a child. Someone he could be a good dad to.