Touching the Moon

by Lisa M Airey

  A slow smile spread across his face and he nodded. “Mind reader.”

  Julie walked to work on Monday. The morning was warm and dry, so she used the opportunity to get some exercise. On the way home, she rounded the corner of her driveway just as the sun was setting. She took a last deep lungful of air and froze mid-breath. The smell took her to her knees and she retched pitifully onto the sidewalk. She wiped her face with her hand, her eyes fixed upon her doorstep, then fished for her cell phone and dialed 911. Ro-bear fielded the call. By the time he arrived, Julie was so pale, she looked blue. He put a hand to her forehead. She was both cold and clammy to the touch. He got her inside and wrapped her in blankets.

  “She’s in shock,” Ro-bear said as Dan pulled into her driveway. “Someone left her a present on her doorstep.”

  Dan stilled. “What?”

  “A small dog. Someone doused it in gasoline or kerosene and put a match to it.”

  “Burned it to death?”

  “No. Just burned it.”

  “For the love of Christ.”

  “Julie?”

  It was Dan. She looked up to find him standing in her living room. “How are you feeling?”

  A tear slid down her cheek. He reached for her hand and held it tightly.

  “We have a witness,” he said. His eyes had lost their sparkle. In the half-light of the living room, they looked slate gray. “Your neighbor, Mrs. Reilly, saw a blue sports car in your driveway an hour before you came home. She watched a man put something at your door.”

  Another tear slid down her cheek. He wiped it away.

  “She got a good enough look that she’s certain she’d be able to identify the man in a line-up. We’re going to put him away.”

  “This is all my fault. The car, the dog—”

  “No.”

  “Yes. Yes, it is, Dan.”

  “If you hadn’t confronted Douglas Hawthorn, maybe Keith would have been the burn victim,” said Dan. He gripped her hand gently and the silence stretched between them. “You’ve taken this pretty hard.”

  She looked up at him and her eyes spoke volumes.

  “What’s going on, Julie? You’ve treated some animals with gruesome injuries. Knowing what I know about human nature, I can’t imagine that all of those injuries have been accidents either. What upset you so?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Julie?”

  “My stepfather.”

  “Yes?”

  “He was beating me. Freebie just tried to make him stop.”

  “Your dog defended you?”

  “To his death.” She looked up at Dan with haunted eyes. “I knew that smell. I knew that smell the moment I turned into the driveway.”

  24

  Cole and Rose gave her big hugs when she returned to work. Often, during the course of her workday, one of them would pat her gently on the shoulder or hand her a hot cup of tea. The choir sent flowers, as did the Copper Pigs.

  Dan made a point of stopping by her house each evening. Even if he were on-duty, he’d take a fifteen-minute coffee break at her kitchen table. Gray called during the day, sometimes stopping by to bring her lunch. Even her wolf visited. In fact, he posted every night and demanded mattress space when she slipped between the covers of her bed.

  Gradually, she put the incident behind her. Gray was working with social services and spending a lot of time in court. Keith was in the custody of his maternal grandmother. Douglas Hawthorn was behind bars.

  Gray stopped by on Friday afternoon with a necklace he’d crafted out of bone. All corn maidens and wolves. A gift.

  “My house is all staked out. I’d like for you to come see it.”

  She nodded.

  “Tonight. Please.”

  He reached out and gently ran his fingertips down her arm. The look he gave her made her chest tighten.

  After work, Julie swung by the supermarket to pick up some dinner supplies. A single bag of groceries sat in the passenger seat, yet she had to continuously downshift as she started up the mountain. Her Toyota was struggling with the grade. At least the roadway was dry. She’d never make it in the mud.

  Gray had obviously been waiting for her, or perhaps he could simply hear the tortured groan of her engine from a mile away. He stepped out of the cabin as soon as she pulled up next to his SUV.

  “Dinner,” she said.

  “I see that,” he murmured, looking at the paper bag. “But, I’m more interested in dessert.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly.

  “Dinner first,” she said, breaking free.

  “That implies that dessert is second,” he said, carrying the bag into the cabin. He set it down and grabbed her again. “I’ve missed you.”

  She pushed him away with a squeal. “The wine is cold and the chicken is hot. Set the table.”

  He obeyed then pulled her into another firm embrace. She wiggled her way free and gestured to the table. He nodded, tucking into the offerings she had brought. But his eyes were full upon her. She stilled and returned his stare. His pupils were incandescent fire.

  “Don’t you look at me like that, Gray Walker,” she admonished

  “Like what?” he asked innocently.

  “Like I’m some kind of chew-toy. I am armed and quite dangerous.” She lifted up her knife and fork and wiggled them for good measure. “Be afraid.”

  He stood up and lit a fire, polishing off the last of the chicken fingers by the hearth.

  “I bought you a present,” he said.

  “A present? What kind of present?”

  “It’s a toothbrush.”

  “A toothbrush? That’s a little odd for a pres…” Her voice trailed off. “I see.”

  “It’s in the toothpaste cup by the sink. Next to mine.” She looked over and saw it there, still wrapped in its plastic packaging. Her eyes slid back to Gray’s.

  “There is mischief in your eyes tonight, Mr. Walker.”

  “Not too much mischief.”

  “Mischief nonetheless,” she repeated. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Full moon,” he said nonchalantly and walked over to the cedar chest to pull out a t-shirt. She swallowed hard and got to her feet. His eyes danced as he approached her. “I ache to hold you, Julie Hastings.”

  He pulled her into bed, then pulled her on top of him and kissed her. He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. He wrestled her into his favorite sleeping position.

  “You move me like a sack of potatoes,” she groused. “And you are touching me. All over.” His hand cupped a breast.

  “My potatoes,” he retorted.

  “Says who?”

  “You.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She expected an explanation, but how could he deliver to her a physiology that she consciously denied? She was attracted to him. He knew it, but he remained silent. His stillness stilled her also.

  “Gray?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why do you say that I am your potatoes?”

  “Your body tells me so.”

  She took a couple of shallow breaths, her back tucked tightly against his chest.

  “Your body also tells me, not yet.”

  25

  On Friday, Julie drove out to the Circle C Ranch. It was a routine call. Jess Harrington raised a magnificent herd of black Angus and he liked to keep it that way. The visit always proved challenging because Jess and his cowboys expected her to mount up and ride out to the herd to do her doctoring. Although she didn’t bounce around in the saddle anymore, she still ended up a tad tender and stiff the day after.

  They gave her an old, dappled gray brood mare called Starlight to ride, an animal that doggedly followed the other horses, was too old to gallop, and too insensate to mind her inexpert ridership.

  Every time she visited, she would promise herself to sign up for riding lessons so that she’d be more polished in the saddle next time. Then next time would come around and she’d have the same conversation with hers
elf all over again.

  A pack of eager and energetic border collies corralled the herd and she dismounted, touching the cows, examining their eyes, ears and noses. The animals looked healthy. She looked up and found Jess watching her. She gave a thumbs-up and he tipped his hat, ambling off to speak to his foreman.

  When she was finished, she saddled up and headed back to the ranch. The air was cool, the sun warm. The wind teased her skin into goose bumps.

  “What puts such a smile on your face, Ms. Hastings?” asked Jess, sidling up next to her.

  “Everything,” she answered. “The squeaky leather, the solid sound of the horse’s hoofs as they touch the earth, the smell of horsehair and dust.” She shrugged. “I like it.”

  He nodded in understanding. “You should learn to ride.”

  “I’ve been thinking the very same thing.”

  “Next time you visit, give me the whole day. I’ll teach you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” he said, giving her a sidelong glance. “My horse will live longer that way.”

  Her lips parted in surprise and he laughed low and deep at her expense.

  “Thanks,” she said. “My apologies to Starlight.”

  He gave her a pound of t-bone steaks neatly wrapped in butcher paper when they got to the ranch and she drove back to the office in the fading light of day. The windows were down, the radio up. It was a glorious sunset. The clouds expressed the oncoming night in pink, coral, purple and dusty lavender. She rounded a curve, her eye on the sky and struck an elk full-on in the chest. The sound of the impact was the last thing she remembered.

  Dan paced nervously outside the curtains in the emergency area. This was his second visit to the hospital checking up on one Ms. Julie Hastings inside one calendar year. He paced in anxious frustration.

  “I want to see her,” he groused to the head nurse.

  “After she’s been seen,” came the calm reply. “You’re not family, Dan. She needs privacy in there.”

  He scowled. It’s not like Julie had privacy anyway. He could hear every snippet of dialogue.

  “Can you give me something for the pain?” Julie asked. He could hear the agony in her voice.

  “Not until we x-ray you. We need to make sure that you don’t need surgery.”

  “What I need is morphine.”

  “None of that, Sweetie.”

  “How about some Percoset?”

  “No.”

  “Percodan?”

  “No.”

  “Valium?”

  “Nuh uh.”

  She whimpered. “Who found me?”

  “Jess Harrington, but Officer Keating responded to the emergency call.”

  “Where’s Officer Keating now?”

  He spoke right up. “Here.” He parted the curtain and stuck his head inside.

  “Dan, have you made any good drug busts lately?”

  “And you need to know because?”

  “Because I need some of the good stuff and I need it straight away. I’ll take anything. Anything.” She grimaced as another wave of pain wracked her chest.

  He snuck in and held her hand.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Well, if you won’t sedate me at least you can try to outlaw those damn airbags.”

  “That damn airbag probably saved your life.”

  “The jury is still out on that one,” she said. “I feel like death.”

  “I need to ask you a few questions,” said the nurse, her eyes sliding to Dan.

  “He can stay,” said Julie.

  He squeezed her hand in solidarity.

  “Now, when was the date of your last period?”

  “I swear,” she turned to Dan in total mortification. “You’re lucky that you are a man. Do you know I could be here in cardiac arrest and they’d ask me that question? They’d ask me this if I was in here for stitches.”

  “Can you give me a date, Miss Julie?”

  “No.” Julie grimaced in pain.

  “We’re trying to rule out pregnancy.”

  “Rule it out.”

  “I need a date.”

  “Pick one and while you’re at it pick out a few pain killers too.”

  “Can you be sure that you’re not pregnant?”

  “Gloria.” Julie was suffering too much to be patient. “You have to have sex first to run the risk of pregnancy. Trust me. I’m not pregnant.”

  “When were you last sexually active?”

  Julie gave a long, suffering sigh. Her voice, when she spoke, was flat.

  “Gloria, I’ve never been sexually active in my life.”

  “Oh,” she said, meekly. “Got it.” She excused herself. “Let me get the radiologist.”

  Julie was afraid to open her eyes. “You still there?” she asked Dan.

  “I’m holding your hand,” he said, smiling. The news gave him hope. He had thought that, despite her words, she and Gray had crossed that bridge. “Hey… and the color is back in your cheeks.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Julie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s only me.”

  “Dan, I’m blushing because it is you. I was expecting her to ask me whether I had cataracts or warts or hemorrhoids or dandruff…” She trailed off.

  “It’s not a crime, you know.”

  “Obviously you’ve never read Cosmo.”

  He snorted. “Around here, we’ve got another set of standards.” He watched her writhe in pain. “Hey,” he said, “You’ve got to focus on something else beside the pain or the pain will consume you.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Focus on me,” he said.

  She turned toward him and gave him her full attention. “How come you haven’t married, Dan?” she asked bluntly. “You are warm, funny, handsome, caring, good-hearted—”

  He held up a hand. “Keep going and you can add fat-headed to your list.”

  “You are not like that at all!”

  He gave her a tight smile and she was immediately sorry that she’d asked the question.

  “I had a girl I was quite serious about.”

  “What happened?”

  “She went away to San Francisco as part of a work-study program and never came back. She was seduced by the city, so to speak.”

  “You didn’t want to go to her?”

  “I wasn’t given that option.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Definitely, her loss.”

  He smiled. “I’m long over it. Besides, I’ve got my eye on someone else these days.” He lifted her hand and kissed it.

  “Ah,” she said, her voice breaking, “I’m absolutely no good for you, Dan.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you are perfect and I am damaged goods.”

  “Explain this, if you don’t mind.”

  “You need someone whole, Dan Keating. If there is a scorecard in the sky tallying up life’s battle-weary, I walk among the wounded.”

  He frowned at her words, “Julie, you’re not being fair to yourself or to me.”

  “Oh, I’m trying to be extraordinarily fair. I like you very much, Dan Keating. I can’t give you what you need. I know that and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Dan would have protested, but their conversation was interrupted by a visit to radiology. When the x-rays were over, Julie waited for the doctor in a small visitation room and focused on her breathing, every inhalation sent sharp pains through her chest and abdominal cavity. She tried to ride the waves of agony like an adult and muffle her pathetic whimpering.

  Dr. Joel Peterson entered her room and moved with a briskness that indicated a stressed and frenetic work schedule. She followed him with her eyes since every muscle movement resulted in another radiating wave of pain.

  “I see that you’ve cracked a few ribs before,” he said by way of intro.

  “Ah, are you insinuating that I’ve cracked some new ones today?” she responded.


  “Two,” he replied, “but they are fresh fractures on old breaks. Were you in a car accident prior to this one, Ms. Hastings?”

  “No.”

  “Play any contact sports?”

  “No. Can I get some painkillers now?”

  “Yes, but I’d like to take a few more x-rays.”

  “Of my ribs?”

  “Of the rest of you,” he answered.

  “Why do you want to take more x-rays?” she asked. “Nothing else hurts.”

  “I’m obligated to contact social services if I see signs of abuse.”

  She just stared at him. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Fortunately or unfortunately,” he said. “It’s the law. You are not obligated to talk to them, but I am.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “I don’t have a choice.” He paused. “At this point, you’ve got an opportunity here to let me do some x-rays courtesy of the state. They might serve you well down the road. You never know. It’s good to have a documented record, even if you do nothing with it.”

  “Okay.”

  “May I ask who did this to you?”

  “My stepfather.”

  “I see.” He was quiet for a moment. “Where is your stepfather now?”

  “Half a country away.”

  “Good.” He sat down and looked at her speculatively. “You’ve got two very anxious men waiting for word in the emergency room.”

  Gray had arrived.

  “You might want to, um, put them in separate rooms,” she whispered, “They don’t play nice together.”

  “You are going to have to help me here,” he continued. “One is carrying a weapon and cuffs. The other looks like he could kill me with a glance. What do I tell them?”

  Her smile turned into a grimace of pain. The doctor stuck his head out the door, flagged a nurse, ordered up some pain meds then rotated his head back in her direction. “Well?”

  “They both know of my past. You won’t be spilling any secrets.”

  “Be good to yourself, Julie. Make sure others are too,” he said, then left the room.

  The battery of x-rays was damning. Joel Peterson called both men into radiology while the nurses wrapped Julie’s ribs and started her discharge papers.

  “I don’t think there is a bone in her body that hasn’t been broken at least once,” said Joel Peterson. “Normally, when we see such colossal damage, it’s because of an accident, one incidental, catastrophic occurrence. This is not the case, gentlemen.” He put a few x-rays up on the mounted light boxes on the wall. “The re-growth patterns on her skeleton show very disparate break and healing times. This woman has been abused and broken from early childhood on. Physically, she’s a train wreck. Her internal scars are massive.”