Storm's Refuge

by Nancy M Bell

  “It might be kinder to amputate the limb and get her fitted with a prosthetic of some kind.”

  Michelle leaned closer and examined the gaping wound, the edges weren’t coming together, and there was no granulation she could see. Bending nearer, she took a deep breath. The faint but unmistakable scent of necrosis met her nostrils.

  “Can we do it while she’s still nursing the puppies?”

  Her fingers played with the soft hair on Storm’s ears. She raised her gaze to Cale’s when he put his hand over hers and squeezed gently.

  “I’m not sure there’s much of a choice. If we wait too long, and she gets septic, there won’t be much of a chance of success given the state of her health.”

  “She’s just starting to gain some flesh on her bones. Are you saying we should wean the puppies and do it in the next couple of days?”

  “I think that’s her best chance for a positive outcome. I guess the question is, are you willing to take on the chore of feeding the puppies. They only just got their eyes open, and it will be another seven days before you can get them off hand-feeding milk supplements and completely dependent on puppy food.”

  “I don’t have a problem with taking care of them for her. I just want her to have the best chance of getting better. She’s been through so much.”

  “It’s too late to do anything tonight, and the roads are getting bad. I had to plow through a few drifts to get home.”

  The vet rebound the dog’s leg while he spoke and sat back on his heels when he was done. Michelle stroked the fat round belly of one of the male puppies, tracing the white flash that ran from his throat to mid-belly. She shivered when Cale caught her hand in his warm fingers and brought them to his lips. Involuntarily, she moved closer to him; her thoughts focussed on the curve of his lips. Those lips moved closer, and his features became blurred. Michelle closed her eyes and inhaled the spicy scent of his aftershave mixed with an underlying aroma of horse and disinfectant.

  Her mouth opened under his; the touch of his tongue tracing her bottom lip turned her bones to mush. She allowed herself to melt into his embrace, bringing her hand to his face, the stubble of his beard rough on her palm. The embrace deepened, and she ran her hands through his dark thick hair. His breath brushed her sensitive earlobe as he sighed and broke the kiss. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and took a second to catch her breath. Cale leaned against the wall. She turned and allowed him to pull her into the vee of his thighs. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes, the even rhythm of his breathing creating a warm fuzzy sense of security.

  “Mmm, this is nice. Where have you been all my life?”

  She snuggled closer, letting the warmth of his body seep into her. A smile touched her lips at the twitch his body made against her lower back. His warm breath caressed her cheek a second before he nuzzled the side of her neck, sending delicious shivers through her. His large hands came up and cradled her tingling breasts, stroking the flannel of her shirt.

  “Waiting to meet you, you crazy woman.”

  She explored the taut muscles of his thighs with her fingers, while she floated on a sea of blissful sensation. In response to his searching fingers slipping inside her shirt and igniting fires of desire on her naked flesh, she turned her face up and met his lips. Nothing existed outside of his lips on hers and the feel of his hands on her flesh. Suddenly she remembered the phone call.

  “I almost forgot, your mom called. They’re coming on the thirtieth, late in the afternoon.”

  “What made you think of that right now?” The chuckle rumbled in her ear as it rose from his chest.

  “She called just before you got in. We should eat. Dinner is probably cold by now.”

  Reluctantly, she scrambled to her feet and offered Cale a hand up. She heated the stew in the microwave and dished it out onto the plates. With a squeak of alarm, Michelle rescued the biscuits from the oven before they became useful only as hockey pucks.

  “You think we should take her leg tomorrow, then?” Michelle brought the conversation back to Storm, regarding Cale across the table.

  “Yeah, I think it’s her best shot. It puts a lot of pressure on you though.” His eyes crinkled at the corners with a small smile.

  “It’s not like I’ve got better things to do at the moment.”

  “I see the light is on in the shed. Did you get the hens settled okay?”

  “All set. I put Bella and Jaz in the barn. I hope that’s okay. The storm was blowing in, and I hate to leave them out in it if I have a choice.”

  “Use whatever out buildings you feel like, Michelle. Treat this place like your own as long as you’re here.”

  There was a hint of something important hidden in his words; the heat rose in her face in answer to the unspoken invitation. Dropping her eyes to the stew, she avoided his searching gaze and applied herself to eating. The scrape of his chair as he rose to deposit the dishes in the sink broke her reverie.

  “I’ll just call Doc and let him know we’ll bring Storm into the clinic in the morning. You and Mary can have a visit while we’re in surgery.”

  The sound of his low voice calmed and reassured her ruffled nerves while she washed up the supper dishes. He hung up from Doc, and she heard him talking to his mother. Other than the first bit of conversation, she could only hear the soft drone of his voice. She looked at Storm sleeping peacefully with her babies, and her heart tightened in her chest. Please let it be the right thing to do. Don’t let it make her worse and put her through the pain for nothing. Conflicting emotions warred within her. A strong desire to protect the dog from any more trauma fought with the knowledge the leg wasn’t healing and would kill her if nothing was done. The big question is, do I trust Cale? In my heart I know he’s right. I have to get over this mistrust of men I seem to have developed. Not all men are George or Rob.

  “I picked up a movie on the way home; wanna watch it together?”

  Cale took the dishcloth from her hand and plopped it on the counter. With a mischievous grin, he headed down the hall in the direction of the front room. Michelle shrugged and followed him, pausing in the doorway while she took in the scene which met her eyes. He had commandeered the room into a bedroom cum office. The old, worn couch was pushed against the wall, and a queen size bed sat on the far side of the room away from the big windows. The wall opposite the bed was occupied by a forty-two-inch plasma TV; papers and paraphernalia spilled from the oak desk onto the floor. Cale leaned against the headboard, propped up on pillows with a big bowl of jelly beans and gummy worms beside him. He patted the bed and waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “C’mon, there’s plenty of room, and this is the warmest room in the house. I promise to be good.”

  She giggled and clambered onto the bed, wriggling until she had a comfortable nest hollowed out in the pillows. He reached out and put his arm around her shoulder, inviting her to lean on his broad chest. A small sound of contentment escaped her as she revelled in the warmth of his embrace. Storm stuck her head in the door and disappeared. She was back momentarily with a puppy in her jaws. After transferring all six puppies onto the dog bed in front of the television, she flopped down and promptly closed her eyes.

  Cale fiddled with the remote and started the movie. To her surprise it wasn’t a blood and guts guy flick, instead it was episodes of the English show about the life of a young vet starting out in a practice in Yorkshire. Michelle was having trouble keeping track of what was happening on the screen. Her eyes kept closing, and she kept missing the middle part of each episode.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sky was still dark when she opened her eyes, and for a moment, the surroundings puzzled her until she became aware of the rise and fall of Cale’s chest under her head. She must have fallen asleep before the movie was over. He stroked her hair and shifted slightly to draw her closer. Michelle rubbed her cheek sensuously against the soft material of his shirt and slid her arm across his firm belly.

  “Go back to sleep. We do
n’t have to be to Doc’s ‘til nine-thirty. It’s only half gone six right now.” The timbre of his voice was deep and drowsy.

  “You don’t have calls this morning?”

  “Nope. I’m off ‘til day after New Year’s.” The man sounded smug and well-satisfied.

  “How did you pull that off? Mary insists Doc is home for holiday dinners, barring a major catastrophe.” She pushed herself upright and peered at him through sleep muzzy eyes.

  “He hired a locum to take care of it. She graduates in May, and Doc is thinking of hiring her for the small animal clinic.”

  Cale kissed the tip of her nose and stretched his long frame before untangling himself from her arms and the blankets. Michelle snuggled deeper into the warmth of the bed, admiring the play of muscles in his back as he stripped off his shirt and dropped his jeans to the floor. Snagging his robe from the pile of clothes by the desk, he turned, and his gaze lingered on her face before he smiled. The emotion on his face sent waves of heat through her body, and her mouth trembled at little as she smiled in return.

  “You look good in my bed.”

  The remark rang in her ears after he left the room. The sound of water running informed her he was taking a shower. Her mind presented her with images of soapy lather sluicing down the flat plane of his chest and lower over the enviable six pack. Her fingers twitched at the unbidden thought of running her hands over his slick physique, taking the weight of him in her palm. Her cheeks heated at the train of thought. She threw back the quilt and hurried up to her room before she gave in to the urge to join him in the shower.

  “My stars, what has gotten into me?” Michelle spoke out loud, hoping it would get her mind out of the gutter. “The guy is too smokin’ hot for my own good.”

  In record time, she dressed and returned to the main floor. She entered the kitchen and started the coffee before removing Storm’s water and food bowl. The dog spent the night in Cale’s room, so she hadn’t put anything in her stomach since before midnight. Kneeling by the kennel, she straightened the padding inside so everything would be ready for the puppies when it was time to leave.

  “You want some scrambled eggs and toast?”

  Cale clattered the pots and pans as he searched for the skillet. Finding the one he was looking for, he set it on the burner. Efficiently, the large man retrieved eggs from the fridge and broke them into a pudding bowl before whisking them into a froth. Michelle finished with the kennel and moved to get the bread and toaster. Cale deftly got plates and utensils while keeping a watchful eye on the eggs.

  “A man after my own heart, good looking, and he cooks, too.” Michelle teased him while buttering the toast.

  “Just so you know what I’m up to, woman.” His face was more than half serious. “I meant it when I said you look good in my bed. You look good in my life.”

  “Where did that come from? I haven’t even known you that long.” The knife fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers.

  “I’ve known Doc most of my life; my grampa kept in touch for years. There were always pictures of you and your brother in the letters. Mostly of you though, with your dog and your kittens, and later your horses. Doc bragged about you a lot, and I guess I feel like I’ve known you a long time, even though we just met in person lately.”

  “Wow, I never knew Doc did that. How did he meet your grampa?” She bent and retrieved the cutlery from the floor.

  “From what I can gather, my grampa was sweet on Mary about the same time Doc started courting her. Doc won, but Grampa married one of Mary’s best friends.” His grin was mischievous.

  “Your gramma is Dolores? Mary always talks about her. In fact I think I’ve met her a couple of times when she came to visit.” Michelle shook her head in disbelief. Who would have thought?

  “That’s my gramma. Sweetest lady on the face of the planet until you cross her; then you better run for your life.”

  Cale spooned the fluffy eggs unto the plates and set the pan on the back of the stove. Michelle brought coffee and toast to the table and cream from the fridge. The sun burst over the horizon, and rays of red-gold light slanted across the kitchen. Tears formed in her eyes; the scene was so cozy and comfortable, and she wanted to belong here. Not like when she used to dream about mornings shared with Rob in this house. Instead, she was seized with a desperate urge to be part of Cale’s life and share quiet moments like this with him.

  She wondered briefly if it was just the house and all the years she spent day dreaming about raising Rob’s kids here. Her glance rested on Cale who was reading a research paper while shovelling eggs into his mouth. Michelle examined her raging emotions. It wouldn’t be fair to start something with this man if he was just a stand-in for an old flame. Thinking of Rob only brought into focus how mistaken she was in her understanding of their relationship. In retrospect, she was the one always forgiving and understanding, believing him when he said he was sorry, and it would never happen again. Rob never really wanted to settle down to ranching. That was her dream, and he only indulged it because it was easier than fighting about it. Why could she see it so clearly now? It would have saved a world of heartache if she realized it sooner.

  Returning her attention to the food on her plate, an image of a dark-haired boy pelting her with horse turds swam to the forefront of her thought. She hadn’t thought of that incident in years. It was the summer she was eleven and working at her first paying job, cleaning out Doc’s barns. There was something familiar about the kid. She concentrated on the face trying to place him. Setting her fork on the table, she turned her gaze to the man across from her.

  “Did you ever visit Doc when you were a kid?”

  “Once or twice.”

  Michelle grinned at the red flush creeping up his face. I’m right. It was him, the rat bastard. It took me three washings to get the stain out of my shirt. She pretended not to see the veiled look he gave her over the rim of his cup. Better to let him sweat it out for a bit and see if he’d confess all by his own self. The man seemed to be awfully interested in reading the research papers. Her curiosity got the better of her though, and she poked his shin with her toe.

  “Were you the kid who threw horse poop at me in Doc’s barn one summer?”

  “Busted. I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that and put two and two together.” A mischievous smile lit his dark eyes.

  “You were a horrid little brat. Refused to talk to me and dumped wet poop on me every chance you got. What was wrong with you?” Laughter lightened the tone of her words.

  “I had a horrible crush on you, and that was the only way I could think of to get your attention. You spent every spare minute chasing after that older guy who wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

  “I did not,” she protested while avoiding his gaze.

  “Did to.” Cale mimicked her childish tone.

  “You might think my feelings for you are too strong for this early in a relationship. Think about it, Michelle. I’ve loved you for a long time.” He captured her fingers and caressed them.

  “You don’t even know me. That little escapade when I was eleven doesn’t count. You can’t have lasting feelings based on a crush when you were a kid.”

  Michelle pulled her fingers free and gathered the dishes as she rose. Her face was burning and unsettling emotions rolled through her. I trusted Rob and look where that got me. How can I truly believe Cale’s feelings are real? I mean it’s based on a crush from when he was a kid, but he’s right about one thing for sure. I never noticed him, other than the shit slinging. I don’t think I ever looked at any other guy except Rob.

  “I’m gonna go start the truck and let it warm up.”

  His chair scraped on the floor as he stood up. He dropped a kiss on her cheek on the way to get his coat and involuntarily she leaned into his embrace.

  “No pressure, Michelle. Just let it happen, give us a chance, okay?”

  He was gone before she could answer. Smiling in spite of herself, Michelle went to collect
the puppies from the bedroom. Storm was lying in the middle of Cale’s bed fast asleep. The dog lifted her head at the yapping of the puppies as Michelle entered the room. With a guilty look, the black dog slid off the bed and moved toward her puppies. Michelle ran her hand over the dog’s head to reassure her and bent down to scoop the squirming little dogs into her arms. Holding the wriggling mass carefully, she went to the kitchen and put them in the kennel. Clipping a lead onto Storm’s collar, she left the dog by the kennel and fetched her coat and boots.

  “Ready to go, when you are,” she informed Cale when he returned from outside.

  “I fed the horses and checked on the chickens. No eggs yet this morning.”

  “Thanks for doing chores for me.”

  “Anytime.”

  Cale took the kennel out to the truck and stowed it on the back seat. Michelle followed with Storm. The drive into town was silent. The black dog sat in the middle of the seat and surveyed the passing landscape. When they pulled into Doc’s yard, Cale reached over and squeezed her hand.

  “She’ll be fine; don’t worry. She’s got the two best surgeons around.” He attempted to reassure her.

  She gave the dog a hug and handed the leash to Cale. Without speaking, Michelle stepped out of the truck and pulled the kennel from the back seat. She wrestled the heavy crate up the walk to Mary’s back door while Cale took Storm to the surgery. Reaching the entryway, she rested the container against the jamb and used her foot to knock. Mary opened the door and stepped out of her way.

  “Did Cale take Storm over to Luke already?” She peered out the door to satisfy her curiosity.

  “Yeah, I don’t want to know until it’s over.”

  Placing the kennel on the floor, she released the catch and let the hatch swing out. A rolling mass of black fur emerged onto the kitchen floor. The puppies’ fat bellies made it difficult for them to manoeuvre on the slippery floor. Their short thick legs pushed them across the tiles as if they were swimming.

  “Cute little tykes, they are,” Mary remarked.