Shane ( Horse Whisperer Novel Book 2)

by Carol Devine

  "Shane."

  "Hi, Wilma. Let me guess. It's Bird and this isn't a social call."

  "May I come in?"

  Shane hesitated, unwilling to disturb Mariah with more of Bird's shenanigans. Since Cassie's birth, he'd gone off the deep end. "We're finishing our dinner. It's a catch-as-can thing right now, trying to have a meal together between the baby's schedule and mine…"

  "Don't mean to interrupt but it's important. I need to speak to both of you."

  "That bad, huh?" Shane waved her in. Wilma entered and kept her Sheriff's cowboy hat on as Shane closed the door.

  "Is Mariah available?"

  "Coming!" she called from the kitchen.

  Wilma gestured toward the living room. "Mind if we sit down?"

  "First tell me what this is about, Wilma. When Bird's in jail, you're usually not this formal-like."

  "He's not in jail."

  Mariah appeared at the entryway to the living room, looking resigned, carrying the baby on her shoulder. "It's okay," she said. "I know he's making trouble all over town. Who wants him arrested now?"

  "I think you two need to sit down. Maybe you should put the baby down, too."

  Shane and Mariah exchanged glances; Shane was concerned, while Mariah expressed irritation.

  "Cassie needs to be burped. I'll sit down but I'm keeping her here with me."

  Wilma nodded, taking the chair that was across from the sofa Mariah and Shane sat down in and shared.

  "It's really bad, isn't it?" Shane asked, laying his hand on Mariah's knee.

  Mariah bounced on the sofa cushion, generating burps. "I don't see how he can get much worse than he already is."

  The rhythmic pats on the baby's back seemed loud as Wilma clasped her hands between her knees.

  "Bird's dead. It was an accident, a freak accident, actually. He fell off a curb and hit his head on the street. Coroner said he died almost instantly. I'm sorry, Mariah, Shane. You have my condolences."

  Shane saw the color drain from Mariah's face as he put his arm around her. Still patting the baby in rhythmic fashion, she glared at Wilma. "He falls off curbs and hits his head every other day. Then he wakes up."

  "Mariah," Shane said quietly while tightening his arm around her. Ignoring him, she tapped her foot, waiting for Wilma to answer.

  Wilma shook her head. "Not this time, I'm afraid. As next of kin, Mariah, I need you to come and identify the body. He wasn't carrying any ID."

  "No," Shane said. "I'll do it."

  "It should be Mariah. Blood relative. County coroner insists."

  Mariah lifted the baby from her shoulder. "Shane, take Cassie, please."

  Mariah's willingness to hand Cassie over without argument surprised Shane. Transfer complete, Cassie started to cry.

  Mariah spoke loudly over the cries. "She ate a good meal. She'll be ready to settle down soon."

  Wilma stood. "This won't take long."

  "Good," Mariah said, her voice brittle with annoyance. "She'll be ready to eat again in two hours."

  "I'll make sure to get you home in time."

  "Let me get my coat."

  Shane followed with the baby, ready to get his coat, too. "Mariah, wait. I'll come with, we'll both come with. Cassie can sleep in her car seat."

  "I don't want her to sleep in her car seat. She's finally getting used to sleeping in her bassinet. You need to stay here with her. I'll be fine."

  He could tell from the set of her jaw she wasn't fine. He could tell from her posture, too, true as an arrow, as though she were in perfect control of the situation, armed against all comers. As grim-faced as Wilma, Shane stood by, juggling the wailing Cassie.

  "Shane, just to let you know, I'll be taking Mariah myself and bringing her home, handling this personally."

  "Appreciate it," Shane said curtly over Cassie's cries.

  "Try the pacifier," Mariah said. She appeared again, her coat on, carrying her purse. "And don't forget to check her diaper before you put her down."

  "Will do," Shane said. She couldn't hear him since she was already out the door, having opened it before either he or Wilma could get it. Wilma gave him an apologetic glance.

  "Sorry to have to do this to her, Shane."

  Shane refused to accept the apology. He couldn't imagine a worse task for Mariah to perform. Cassie was barely two and a half weeks old. Since the birth, the most Mariah had slept in one stretch was a scant three hours.

  To show his displeasure, he slammed the door in Wilma's wake, which only served to make Cassie cry harder. He bounced her against his shoulder and paced, angry at the Sheriff but mostly at Bird, who never could cut Mariah a break, even in death.

  Two hours came and went and Shane never did get Cassie to sleep, much less suck on her pacifier. It was as if she somehow sensed his tension, sensed that something terrible had happened. Since no one was crying except her, she had to keep going until someone else took over.

  Shane swaddled and paced, swayed and bounced, trying to soothe his baby. She was completely red-faced and angry when Mariah got home, and the look he got from Mariah heaped the blame on him.

  She unbuttoned her blouse and fed Cassie immediately, coat on, sitting on the sofa. Cassie fussed as she sucked as if sustenance was unavailable. After a few minutes of trying both sides, Cassie started screaming her starving cry. Mariah went from frozen emotionally to sheer panic.

  "Quick, Shane. Get some formula ready. It's like I don't have any milk."

  Shane had only prepared the formula once before, the time he bottle-fed Cassie when she first came home, to have the experience of closeness Mariah insisted he have. He was all thumbs with the bottle and the rubber nipple, spilling powder as he measured out the amount and added distilled water. Cassie screamed and screamed while he rushed.

  Mariah did, too. "Can you hurry it up?"

  "I'm coming," he called, screwing on the lid and shaking the damn stuff to mix it. He ran out to the living room where the two of them waited.

  "Did you warm it?"

  "I warmed the water," he said.

  Clearly disappointed, Mariah checked the temperature by squirting a drop on her wrist. "I don't think she's going to care," she muttered. "It's like she's beyond starving."

  Mariah inserted the bottle into Cassie's mouth. The baby immediately quieted and sucked thirstily. If anything, Mariah appeared even more distressed.

  She glanced toward Shane. "Can you take over and finish feeding her? I need to take my coat off, pull myself together."

  "Do whatever you need to," Shane said, sliding Cassie onto his lap. The poor thing really did look like she had not eaten in days, her wet eyes wide and panicked around the edges.

  Mariah disappeared into the kitchen. He could hear the sounds of her preparing tea, which made him feel better. At least she was getting comfort from somewhere. As soon as Cassie went down, he intended to take hold of Mariah and keep her close. He hoped he could get her to talk a little, enough to say something about Bird's sudden death, about what she was going through. But he already sensed it might be too much to ask.

  Bird had been a ghost her whole life, a ghost of himself, a father who didn't really exist. Shane could only imagine what it must have been like to grow up basically on her own.

  He had two parents. Though they had their problems, they had worked together to solve them, and the older he became, the more Shane appreciated the courage it must have taken for them to face each other and admit the fact that both their lives had gone off the rails. They needed help. They sought it together.

  Cassie fell asleep, formula puddled in her mouth. She was a dead weight in his arms as he carried her upstairs, changed her diaper and laid her in her bed. Then he went to find Mariah.

  She was asleep on the sofa with her coat still on, the mug of tea half-empty on the table in front of her. Shane knelt beside her and freed her arms from the coat sleeves. She murmured, clasped him around the neck and burrowed her head in his shoulder, beyond exhaustion. He carried her
up the stairs to their bed.

  After covering her with a comforter, he headed downstairs to prepare enough formula to get Cassie through the night. Mariah needed a good long sleep.

  * * * * *

  Mariah woke fifteen hours later. The late morning sun made patterns along the bedroom walls, patterns she was unfamiliar with because rising much beyond the hour of six was foreign to her.

  Having slept for so long, she felt groggy and hung over. It took her a minute to realize how late it was and how silence enveloped the house.

  Her first thought was Cassie, who was not in her bassinet. Mariah opened the bedroom door, listening for either Shane or the baby. She pounded downstairs and did a quick search. It was clear the house was empty.

  "Shane!"

  No answer. Checking her purse for her phone, Mariah pushed away the memory of Bird, laid out on a stainless steel table, his usual reddened complexion completely devoid of color. She needed Cassie, needed to see golden red hair and round cheeks made from the color of pink and ivory roses.

  He'd become gray everywhere, hair, face, unshaven beard and skin, leached of color, erasing what little had been alive.

  Mariah's arms ached for the solid bundle that fit in her two hands, eight plus pounds of cuddly warmth, bursting with cries and burps and gurgles. Cassie glowed with health, a glow like heat and light, life fire, the most sustaining kind.

  She called Shane's phone. He answered on the first ring.

  "Cassie's with me," he said in lieu of hello.

  "I was worried."

  "I should have left a note in her crib or texted. I'm in the barn."

  "You took her where? The barn?"

  "She's sleeping on my chest in the front carrier."

  "Is she hungry?"

  "I fed her formula to give you time to sleep. How are you feeling?"

  "I'm coming to get her."

  Shane heard the irritation in her voice. "I'll bring her to you, Mariah. See you in five."

  She met him at the back door. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

  "You needed it."

  "But I have to breastfeed or my milk will dry up."

  "I'm sorry. Obviously, you'll feed her the next time. Will you be okay with her for awhile? The vet is here and he needs me to give him a hand with my touchier mares."

  "Go."

  "Thanks." Shane kissed Mariah's cheek as he handed Cassie over. "I'll check back later."

  Mariah didn't reply, out of sorts. She fought the grogginess from sleeping for such a long time. Hungry, she made cereal for herself. It was one of the few meals she could manage while holding Cassie. After waking and not being able to immediately find her, Mariah kept the baby in her arms for the rest of the day.

  * * * * *

  "I want to get a nanny."

  Jolted by Mariah's announcement, Shane switched his gaze from Cassie, who was facing him on his lap, blowing five week old baby bubbles, to Mariah's face, weary from dealing with Bird's funeral and the aftermath of going through the junk in the camper. She'd also insisted on checking with each of her employees every day, as if completing a case without her input was beyond them. "If it means you're able to catch up on your sleep, I'm all for it."

  She topped the coffee in their mugs, put the pot down and settled into the kitchen chair opposite him. "It's because I want to go back to work."

  Shocked, Shane took in Mariah's determined expression. "Wait a sec. It's a little early for that, isn't it? I thought we agreed to--"

  She flatly interrupted. "I've changed my mind."

  "But you said you wanted to take six months to a year off to bond with Cassie."

  "I didn't realize how much I... how much I'd miss my job."

  He refocused on Cassie, playing with her flailing fists while considering the idea. "How many hours were you thinking?"

  "I was thinking twenty hours a week."

  "For the nanny or for you? I don't want to see you working at home like you have been. Not after those twenty hours are done."

  "I can't predict how much time each case requires. It's not that kind of job."

  "That's why you wanted to take a big chunk of time off, remember? You didn't want to be pulled in two directions. You said taking care of Cassie would always win and taking care of your clients would always lose. I think that showed integrity on your part. Nothing's changed about that, has it?"

  She sipped her coffee without expression. "My job fulfills needs I didn't realize I had."

  "How are you going to handle times when what you need to do at work conflicts with Cassie's needs?"

  "It's not an either/or, Shane. Besides, you're her parent, too."

  "I'm in the house much more than I used to be. It's hard because it's foaling season and neither one of us is getting enough sleep. You have to give yourself a chance to recover from having Cassie. And also from dealing with Bird. It's barely been--"

  Energized, she talked fast, clearly intent on letting him know how vital this was to her. "How about this... how about I hire the nanny to spend time at my office as well as here? We could set up a little crib where my storage locker used to be. Cassie could spend time with me in both places. I'm sure I can get whatever needs to be done in twenty hours if I do it that way."

  Appalled, Shane couldn't hide it. "That plan sounds terrible."

  "What do you mean? Mothers can do two things at once, work and care for their children at the same time."

  "That's not what you're describing. You're describing two different jobs which can't get done at the same time."

  Mariah shrugged. "I could make phone calls while I'm feeding her, do database searches while she's taking naps. I could even put her in the car, take her on the occasional surveillance gig now and then."

  "You're talking about taking her on one of your stakeouts?"

  "They're boring, Shane. Taking care of her would give me something to do. She'd throw suspicion off me, too, if someone happened to see me taking pictures. I could put her in the stroller and follow the suspects around."

  "Do you hear what you're saying?"

  "It's perfectly reasonable. It's hitting two birds with one stone."

  "So Cassie is a bird you need to hit with a stone."

  "What an awful thing to say." She didn't even show emotion enough to raise her voice. "That isn't what I meant and you know it."

  Glad they weren't yelling around the baby, Shane worked on staying calm. "I know you don't mean it literally. But you're putting her in harm's way. It was one thing when you were working alone. I didn't like the fact some asshole might come after you if he happened to spot you taking incriminating pictures. You carry a gun for your protection. You're trained in how to use it. But it has never stopped me from worrying about what might happen if you ever had to use that gun. I know you wouldn't be shooting at someone unless they were shooting at you. There's risk in what you do. Because you're extremely good at it, I can tolerate that risk. But I can't do it if Cassie comes close to being involved with your work. I don't even like the idea of her being at your office. People hire you because they have problems, and I don't want some cheating spouse or deadbeat dad to show up where my daughter is, looking to give you the finger or worse."

  "You're being melodramatic. That's only happened a couple of times. The odds are practically nil that it would happen when Cassie is there."

  "Think so? I say we stick to the original plan. Six months you said. You wanted to bond, you wanted to putter around the house, try your hand at crafts and things, household repair, maybe paint more rooms since our bedroom came out so well. What's changed in the month since Cass was born?"

  "Aside from the obvious?"

  "Yes." She wouldn't even say Bird's name.

  "Well, my milk has dried up."

  "Going back to work will help you breastfeed again?"

  She slumped in her chair, dejected. "I feel useless, Shane. I want to feel confident and busy, and..." her voice trailed away.

  "Believe me, your job w
on't make your problems go away."

  "You have your job to distract you. Why can't I have mine?"

  "Because it takes time away from Cassie."

  "I promise nothing I do on the job will take away from the time I spend with Cassie."

  "I don't believe you."

  Stunned, her mouth dropped open. "What! I'm giving you my word."

  "Your word doesn't mean much right now. This isn't like you, Mariah. Bird died three weeks ago and now, suddenly, you're raring to go back to work. I see cause and effect. It doesn't strike me as a particularly healthy response."

  "People grieve in different ways. I'm asking you to respect that."

  "Since you're asking, I can say no, right?"

  "You're gonna pull out Macho Man and forbid me from going back to work?"

  "What I'm forbidding is your refusal to do anything that resembles grieving. You said you're glad he's dead. I know you had a love-hate relationship but he was your father. Half of him is inside you."

  "I shut him out years ago. I'm not giving him the power to affect my life. It's a decision I made, a decision you need to accept. Stop trying to talk me out of it."

  "You're the psychologist. If I was telling you what you're telling me, you wouldn't let me get away with a lot of bullshit about how useless you feel. The last thing you are is useless. Cassie needs you, I need you…"

  "I am dealing with the reality of the situation. Bird's dead and it's too bad but life goes on. I have a child to raise and a business to run the same way you do."

  "I'd feel better if you gave this decision more time. Consider the fact that you like to think about things, you need to… what's the word? Ponder. Give it a week or two. You haven't pondered yet."

  "I don't like you talking to me this way, like you're my father or something."

  "Father?"

  "It wasn't a Freudian slip."

  "Sure it wasn't."

  "Stop it."

  "Look, I'm not here to argue. I want to help you."

  "If you want to help me, come here and give me a hug. I don't want to argue, either."

  He put the sleeping Cassie in her bouncy chair and came willingly, gratified to have a concrete request that made him feel like Mariah needed him. Holding her tightly, she held him tightly as well, drinking the comfort in. She spoke with her cheek pressed against his chest, trying not to feel and sound desperate.