Storm's Refuge

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Storm's Refuge Page 4

by Nancy M Bell


  “Might as well get some sleep. I’m done in from schlepping through all that snow.”

  His eyes closed almost before he finished speaking; in minutes his deep, slow breathing told Michelle he had actually fallen asleep.

  She watched the slow rise and fall of his chest. Her gaze travelled upward to his face, soft and vulnerable as he slept. Her hand moved by its own accord, and she had to restrain herself from stroking his cheek. With a muttered curse, Michelle jumped up and made herself busy turning down the wicks of the lamps and checking the fire. She returned to her makeshift bed and lay down with her back to the sleeping vet. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get comfortable, and her heightened senses relayed every tiny noise he made to her tired brain. Finally, she fell into a fitful slumber until an exhausted sigh woke her to find the dog crawling under her blanket. Michelle put an arm around the presence next to her, who in her dreams wore the face of the man who slept behind her.

  Chapter Three

  Michelle woke to the rumbling of a deep male voice. She rolled over and blearily focussed on Cale sitting cross-legged on his pile of blankets and conferring with someone on his cell phone. He smiled at her as she untangled herself from the dog and the blankets that had gotten wrapped around her during the night. She gave him a quick nod in return, quickly folded her bedding and placed them along with the pillow on the washing machine in the little laundry room off the kitchen. Without waiting for Cale to finish his conversation, Michelle pulled on her coat and boots and headed out to the barn to check on the buckskin mare and her foal.

  The snow must have stopped sometime in the early hours of the morning, and the sun shone in a blue Alberta sky. The light bounced off the white surface and made it hard to judge the depth of the drifted snow. Michelle was covered in snow from getting mired in drifts by the time she made it to the barn. The horses whickered in greeting at the sound of the door sliding open. The buckskin and her baby were doing just fine, and Michelle made short work of her chores. She checked on the state of the round bale of hay that fed the small herd of horses outside. It was half buried in snow, but she could see where the animals had dug it away. One of them lifted his head out of the bale and regarded her with snow all over his muzzle and a big clump of hay perched between his ears hanging down into his eyes. Michelle chuckled and began her trek back to the house. It was easier going as she followed the trail she made earlier.

  The throaty sound of a big diesel engine broke the pristine silence of the morning. Michelle stopped as Cale came into sight, moving snow with the big John Deere. He waved when he saw her but didn’t pause. Good thing the man had the sense to find the equipment shed and fire up the tractor. Michelle shrugged and continued to the house. One less thing for her to worry about. The power was back on, so Michelle set about making breakfast. Cale had folded his bedding and placed it with hers in the laundry room. The pancakes were ready and sitting on the warming plate while Michelle finished frying the sizzling sausages. Her head came up in surprise as Cale’s blue Dodge diesel drove by the kitchen window. He raised his hand in farewell and carried on up the narrow path he cleared with the tractor. Michelle watched in disbelief while his tailgate disappeared in the rooster tail of snow the big four by four kicked up. She turned off the burner on the stove with more force than was necessary and picked up the plate of pancakes. She dumped two onto her plate and frowned at the remaining flapjacks as if it was their fault there was no one to eat them.

  “Well, dog, it looks like you hit pay dirt this morning.”

  The dog thumped her tail on the floor, and a thin string of drool hung from her mouth. Michelle placed the plate on the floor, and the dog started to eat with one eye on Michelle. She must be hungrier than she was scared this morning and willing to risk a beating in order to fill her stomach.

  “Silly dog, no one’s going to hurt you anymore.” Michelle spoke softly to the emaciated animal.

  She spent the next three quarters of an hour digging her truck out and left it idling to warm up while she figured out how to get the dog out of the house and into the passenger side of the vehicle. The dog took matters into her own paws and limped across the kitchen when Michelle came in the door. She followed Michelle out onto the porch and with the stoic courage only an animal can muster, walked on three legs through the snow to the truck. As gently as she could manage, Michelle lifted the dog up onto the passenger seat before going around getting in the driver’s side. The black dog laid down on the seat, her head resting on the saddle blanket. Her eyes followed every movement Michelle made. The truck nosed through the snow which had blown into Cale’s tracks from earlier in the morning.

  “Men are just a big pain in the ass, dog.” Michelle complained as she turned onto the gravel road at the end of her lane. At least the county snow plow had been by at some point.

  The dog responded with a deep sigh and licked Michelle’s hand. Once they reached the paved road, driving conditions improved, and before long, Michelle pulled up in front of Doc’s office. She smiled at Mary when she pulled the curtain aside to see who was at the clinic this early in the morning. By the time Michelle opened the passenger side door and had the dog in her arms, Mary was holding the clinic door open for her.

  “Go into the exam room on your right, dear.” Mary said as Michelle wrestled her way through the door. The dog was skinny as all get out, but she was a big dog, and she wasn’t too sure going into the vet’s was such a great idea.

  “Sit, you silly thing.” Michelle admonished the dog as she heaved her onto the exam table.

  “My stars, where did you find her?” Mary ran a gentle hand over the dog’s rough coat.

  “Under the front porch, in the middle of the storm.” She leaned on the table to catch her breath.

  “The poor thing’s starved half to death, and her poor leg.” Mary’s voice softened with sympathy. “What’s her name? I’ll need it for her records?”

  “Name?” Michelle looked blank. “Damned if I know. Probably doesn’t have one judging from her condition.”

  “You want I should just write down Michelle’s Black Dog?” Mary smiled, the lines around her bright green eyes crinkling.

  “I don’t know, Mary.” Michelle threw her hand up in exasperation. “Call her Storm.”

  “Storm it is, then.” Mary bustled back out to the reception desk to create a file for the new patient.

  “Storm, who is going to cost me a small fortune,” Michelle muttered, but she stroked the dog’s head comfortingly.

  “Did Cale make it out there last night?” Mary stuck her head back in the door, an expectant look on her face.

  Michelle ground her teeth and forced herself not to snap at one of her oldest friends. “He did actually.”

  “And…” Mary prodded. “Did he make it home in that storm?”

  Michelle counted mentally to ten before she answered. “No, his truck got snowed in. He left this morning.”

  “He seemed awful pleased about something when he stopped in here earlier,” Mary volunteered.

  “Not from anything I said or did.” Michelle forced herself not to blush. The news the fancy horse vet spent the night at her ranch would be all over town before you could say “nothing happened.” The door snicked shut behind Mary, and Michelle could hear her dialling the phone. No doubt calling her best friend and crony, Gerty.

  “Hey, Michelle.” Doc entered the exam room by the door from the kennels and the operating theatre for the small animal part of his practice. “Who’s this then?’ He extended his hand toward the dog who curled her upper lip back from her teeth.

  “Some stray that wandered in during the storm, looks like someone beat on her, or she got hit by a car.”

  “Hmmm, let’s see then, little dog.” Doc talked softly to the dog while he examined her.

  The dog decided not to bite him, but watched his movements closely. Her body trembled, and her nails squeaked on the steel top of the table.

  Doc stepped back and looked a
t Michelle over his glasses. “The leg’s broken, needs surgery and maybe some pins. I won’t know for sure until I take some x rays; then it will depend on what the rads reveal. I can excise the necrotic flesh on that paw and try and save the rest of the foot and leg. You sure you want to do this. Or should we just put her out of her misery?”

  The dog, being no fool, chose that moment to turn her big eyes up to Michelle and lick her hand.

  “She’s pregnant, I can’t bear the thought of killing puppies, too. Just do whatever it is she needs, and I’ll scare up the money from somewhere. Your fancy horse vet thought it should be amputated; do you think you can save the leg?” Michelle heaved a defeated sigh. “I never should have let Mary make me name the damn thing.”

  “So you met Cale last night. What do you think of him, now you’ve seen him?” Doc scrutinized her face, looking for what, Michelle couldn’t guess.

  “I think he’s an okay vet, took care of Liza and the foal last night. And the dog,” she said grudgingly. “I still don’t think he’ll last around here, big money is with the hunters and jumpers, and the dressage queens.” Michelle knew she was being unfair and stubborn, but damn it she was right.

  “Have it your way, missy.” Doc grinned at her. “I’ll just get…what did you call her?”

  “Storm”

  “Storm, then, I’ll just get Storm fixed up with some meloxicam for the pain and then take a look at the rads. Do you want to help, or should I get Mary to call you with the bad news?”

  “I can help for a bit. George is still on the rig, so I have chores waiting for me.” Michelle enjoyed working with Doc and tried to come in and assist him at least once or twice a week when he needed a pair of extra hands.

  Two hours later, Michelle dropped into a chair in the small reception area and leaned her head back against the window. Mary came around her desk and sat down beside her.

  “How’s the dog?” Mary asked carefully, her expression wary.

  “The dog is fine. I feel like I’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.” Michelle frowned at Mary. “And don’t take that the wrong way, I’m just tired. Winter is hard with George gone for twenty-eight days at a time. I wish his hitch was shorter, but the money keeps the ranch going right now.”

  “I have just the thing for you, dear. I bought a couple of tickets for a concert out at the East Longview Hall for tomorrow night. It’s a new group, some local girls. They call themselves The Travelling Mabels. Do you good to have a night out. It’s only a week ‘til Christmas, you know.” Mary went to her desk and rummaged around in the papers strewn across it.

  “Christmas,” Michelle groaned. “I still have to wrestle the stupid tree into the house. Crap, I forgot all about it ‘til you mentioned Christmas.”

  “I knew the tickets were there somewhere.” Mary plopped back down beside Michelle with a pink ticket in her hand. “Here, you take this, and I’ll meet you there. Luke doesn’t want to go. He’s playing poker tomorrow night.”

  “Who are they? You said they were local?”

  “You know the girls who sang at the steakhouse last fall a couple of times, Eva, Lana and Suzy? You have to come keep me company and drive me home in case Gerty has too much wine.” Mary refused to let up until Michelle agreed.

  “Fine, fine, I’ll meet you at the hall, but you owe me a beer.” Michelle got to her feet and headed for the door. “Doc says Storm can come home tomorrow, so I’ll see you then.”

  “Bye, Michelle, drive careful.” Mary said to the door as it closed behind Michelle.

  Chapter Four

  The next afternoon, Michelle settled Storm in the bed by stove and set food and water beside her. The thick bandages held the injured leg at an odd angle. The tip of her tail thumped the floor, and the dog licked Michelle’s hand before she stood up.

  “You be good, missy,” Michelle told her. “I have chores to do before I meet Mary.”

  Michelle thanked her lucky stars the power was restored. She hated having to start the generator so the stock could have water. The damn thing never worked right for her; only George seemed to have the magic touch the generator required. It was buried under a snow drift at the moment anyway.

  Two hours later, the chores were finished, and Michelle took a few minutes to lean on the buckskin’s door and watch the long-legged baby cavort around the stall. She opened the stall and stepped onto the thick bedding of straw. The foal careened away from her and peered from behind his mom, his tiny horse face peeking out from under the mare’s belly. The mare ignored her baby’s antics and ambled over to Michelle looking for a horse cookie. Michelle fished in her jacket pocket and came up with a couple of krunchies which the horse lipped up gently from her hand. The foal came over on his spindly legs to investigate, being very brave now momma was there to protect him. Michelle held her hand out and let him sniff it. The foal’s whiskery nose tickled the palm of her hand. She smiled when the colt took hold of her fingers and sucked them into his mouth.

  “I’ve got nothing for you, little man. You need to talk to your momma about dinner.”

  Gently, Michelle disengaged her fingers and with a last stroke of the mare’s neck, left the stall and latched the door. She ran a hand over her hair and picked out a few pieces of hay the wind had blown into it. Between the hay in her hair, the hay down her shirt and itching in her bra, she figured she could feed a horse ‘til spring. She left the barn and headed back to the house to shower and change before heading out to the East Longview Hall. The ticket said the show started at seven. Michelle checked her watch and quickened her pace. The timepiece informed her it was a quarter to six, and she still needed to shower and get out to the hall. With any luck, the county should have all the roads cleared, at least enough for the four by four to navigate.

  She hung her coat in the mud room and kicked her boots off by the door. Michelle stripped her clothes off and stepped into the shower. With the hot water sluicing over her body while she shampooed the hay out of her hair, Michelle suddenly remembered the last time she used this particular shower. Her hands stilled in her hair as Cale’s face swam before her eyes. That stupid little smile thing he did when he was laughing at her; suddenly it felt like he was there in the shower with her. Michelle gave herself a mental shake and finished washing her hair. What is wrong with me? I don’t even like the guy. Wrapping a big towel around herself, Michelle ran across the cold floor and up the stairs to her room. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater with a Christmas design knitted into it. It was one of her favourites. Hand knit by her gramma. She paused before grabbing some makeup and applying it quickly. Usually Michelle didn’t bother with the stuff; but she reasoned, it was Christmas, and she should make the effort. Her shoulder length, dark blonde hair hung shiny around her face. The ends curling and refusing to lay flat. Michelle gave up on the attempt to tame the wayward tresses and ran the brush through her hair one last time. She pulled her good boots out of the closet and smiled as she always did when she thought about her dad. He used to call them her “Sunday go to meeting” boots.

  Storm was sleeping contentedly in her bed, and Michelle made sure there was plenty of food and water as she crossed the kitchen. With any luck, the dog wouldn’t use the kitchen floor as her bathroom before Michelle got back.

  The clock on the dash showed 6:30 p.m. when Michelle started the truck. There was just about enough time to get there before it started. Twenty-five minutes later, she pulled the Chev into an empty spot in the yard which served as the parking lot. Her boots were loud on the wooden floor of the wide porch. When she pulled the door open and stepped into the warmth of the hall, she was relieved to see the show hadn’t started yet.

  Michelle handed over her ticket and was surprised when Amy, who was playing hostess for the event, told her Mary paid extra for reserved front row seating. Michelle shrugged and figured Mary was being generous and helping support the girls in their new venture. The hall was crowded, and Michelle guessed it must be close to its capacity of two hundre
d. She edged her way toward the bar where she ordered a beer and took some jerky as well. Since she didn’t allow time for supper, jerky would have to do. She gave up trying to find Mary in the crowd and set off to find her seat. Reserved seating. She smiled, usually at East Longview it was first come, first served. You had to get there early to get a seat near the front. Not that there was really a bad seat in the small hall, it was just a little homey western community hall. Fairy lights were strung along the edges of the ceiling and the modest stage at one end. There would be as many people leaning on the walls and watching as there would be sitting. The advantage to being by the wall meant a person didn’t have to remove their hat so the people behind could see the stage. She grinned at the butterflies The Mabels had decorated the stage with.

  Michelle made her way to the front of the hall and squinted in the dim light to see what number was on her ticket stub. The first two rows of chairs had masking tape on them with the numbers written in black felt pen. She frowned at her ticket and then checked the seat number again. There was only one seat open, and it did have her number on it. Mary was nowhere in sight. Michelle shrugged. The woman occupying the seat must be somebody visiting until the show started. Mary would show up from wherever she was and claim it shortly. The woman was probably gossiping with Gerty. She slid into the seat, stuck her beer between her knees, and fished in her pocket for the jerky.

  The lights dimmed, and Amy stood in the spotlight, smiling out at the crowd, ready to introduce The Travelling Mabels. After a brief intro, the three women emerged out of the kitchen-come-dressing and staging room at the side and walked up the centre aisle of the hall. They appeared as black silhouettes from behind as they came out of the shadows toward the brightly lit stage. They arranged themselves on the stools. Lana was tall and swung her guitar across her lap. Sweeping the honey blonde hair behind her ear, she smiled at the crowd. Suzy’s dark hair glimmered in the stage lights as she settled her base guitar securely, her fingers stroking the strings. Eva was the front man and Suzy’s mom. She cracked a few jokes before cueing the first song. Each lady was a talented musician in her own right, together they were magic. Michelle settled down to enjoy the concert, she noticed the chair beside her was vacant now and wondered where Mary had gotten to. Eva counted them in and the girls swung into the first number, their beautifully blended voices filling the hall. Someone slipped into the chair beside her, and Michelle turned her head to smile at Mary. The smile died on her lips, and she had to stop herself from gaping like an idiot. Cale’s deep blue eyes locked with hers, and Michelle forgot how to breathe for a moment.

 

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