The Healer

by Sharon Sala

  Hobo came running.

  “Inside,” he said, holding the door open for the dog to go in. “Don’t let anyone hurt her,” he added, then turned the lock on the doorknob before pulling it shut.

  He trudged through the snow to the side of the yard, where Bridie’s old truck was parked beneath the shed. It started more easily than he had expected, and soon he was driving up the road to tend to the needs of the other woman in his life.

  He was dreaming about his wife, but when he started to make love to her, she turned into Luce Andahar, at which point he woke up in a sweat, certain he was about to be found out. When he realized he’d been dreaming and remembered that his wife was still at her mother’s, he rolled over on his back and wiped his face with shaking hands.

  “Damn. I say…damn it all to hell,” he muttered, then glanced at the clock, cursed beneath his breath again and got out of bed.

  It wasn’t until he got to the bathroom and happened to glance out the window that he saw the snow. He hated winter. For that matter, he hated West Virginia, too. He’d been trying to get his wife to move to Miami for years, but she was afraid of hurricanes and afraid of getting too far away from her mother.

  He sighed, then focused on peeing. If he was lucky, his mother-in-law would kick the bucket this time around. Then maybe he would be able to talk his wife into the move. They didn’t have to live on the coast. They could settle inland. He just wanted to live in a place where the grass was always green and most of the days were sunny. Besides, it was far easier to have an extra girlfriend in a heavily populated area. Then, when they went missing, it was sometimes days, even weeks, before anyone noticed. Not like here. When Luce failed to show up for work, it wouldn’t be long before she would be classified as missing. Finding her body would be another thing altogether.

  Still, he had to be careful here. He often wondered why he’d ever stayed in this place. Why he’d fooled around and married Sue instead of doing to her what he usually did to his women. Maybe it was because she reminded him of his mother. Maybe it was because, in their marriage, she was in charge. But that was where her control ended. When he was on the road, he was the king of everything.

  Later, as he shaved to get ready for work, he thought about dropping by Harold’s for breakfast. He could watch Luce’s tits bounce as she brought him his food. It would be a damn good way to start the day.

  But when he backed out of the garage to drive to work, he found out that it wasn’t as simple getting around as he’d thought. The city manager was obviously not up, or he would have ordered the few city employees out to plow and sand the streets.

  Cursing ineptitude, the weather and his wife, he slowly made his way to the diner to eat.

  Harold was sitting in the back booth, finishing his own breakfast, when the bell over the door jingled. He looked up, swallowed his last bite of toast and waved the customer in.

  “Hey there! I didn’t think I was gonna be cooking breakfast for anyone but myself this morning. Sit. Sit. I’ll be right there with the coffee.”

  “Where’s Luce?”

  “I told her to stay home. No need her coming in to work when I doubt there’ll be a dozen customers all day.”

  “Oh.”

  “So…what’ll you have?” Harold asked, as he poured coffee.

  “Got any biscuits and gravy?”

  “Oh, sure, sure. Got plenty. How about some hash browns to go with them?”

  “Whatever,” he said, as he added cream and sugar to his coffee. But he was pissed off again. First the snow. Now he wouldn’t see Luce.

  “Say, heard Sue’s mother took a bad turn. How’s she doing?” Harold asked.

  “Not good. Not good at all. The wife is staying with her for the rest of the week.”

  “So you’re batchin’ it, are you?”

  He nodded, acknowledging Harold’s reference to being on bachelor status while his wife was gone. If only.

  “I’m gonna make some chili and cornbread for later. If you’re still at work around noon, come on back. It’ll be better than opening up a can of soup on your own,” Harold said.

  “Yeah…thanks…I’ll probably do that,” he said, and then opened up his paper and pretended to read, hoping Harold would take the hint and shut the hell up.

  Truth was, he didn’t know what he was going to do later, but he just might be tempted to take a drive up the mountain. If Luce Andahar was snowed in, she might be ready for a little company. God knows he was more than ready for her.

  The lights were on inside Bridie’s house when Jonah drove into the yard. Instead of parking at the house like he usually did, he drove down to the barn. When he was finished there, he was going to stop by the woodpile on his way back and bring a big load of firewood inside.

  He saw Bridie at the kitchen window and honked as he drove by. She waved. He waved back and kept on driving.

  Old Molly was waiting inside the barn. She lowed softly as he walked in.

  “Good morning to you, too,” he said, and rubbed behind her left ear before turning her in to the stanchion.

  He quickly filled a bucket with feed, poured it into the trough, then grabbed a milk bucket and a stool, and sat down beside her.

  The warmth of her udders felt good against his cold fingers as he began to coax the milk from her teats. Within a few moments, she let it flow, and soon the scent of fresh warm milk mingled with the aroma of the hay and sweet feed that Molly was eating.

  Milking a cow was one of those mindless tasks that took no skill other than patience, but Jonah liked the solitude of the barn and the sounds of the morning that came from the inhabitants who lived there.

  The big black snake that was wintering beneath the hay was sleeping soundly. The barn owl was roosting on the highest rafters, pretending to sleep. But Jonah knew it was keeping one eye on him, making sure there were no surprises.

  Just outside the aisle of the barn, a small red fox was making the rounds, hoping to find a mouse, or maybe an egg or two for breakfast before retreating to its den.

  Jonah knew that Brother Mouse, who was now living under the floor of the chicken house, was well aware of the fox, which was good. He’d taken a liking to the little gray mouse and would hate to learn that he had become food for the wily fox.

  By the time he finished milking, Molly was through eating and was standing patiently, chewing her cud and waiting to be turned out. But Jonah had other plans for her today.

  “It’s too cold, and the snow is too deep for you, old girl. I’m going to leave some extra hay in here for you, and turn you out in the corral. If you want to come back inside the barn, you can. If you want to freeze the tips of your ears, then you’ll be free to do that, too.”

  Molly turned her head and looked back at him, then mooed softly.

  Jonah grinned.

  “It was just a joke, okay?”

  He set the milk bucket inside the truck, then went back to the barn, cut the baling wire on a couple of square bundles of hay, then separated a half dozen blocks from one bale and carried them to the trough where Molly had been eating earlier.

  “So…here’s a morning snack and enough for lunch. I’ll be back later. You stay out of trouble, old girl.”

  Molly butted him gently.

  He smiled. “Yes, thank you, I will, too,” he said, and headed out to the corral, where he broke the ice on the watering trough, then headed for the truck and drove to the woodpile.

  Within a few minutes, he’d loaded the better part of a rick of wood into the back of the truck bed, then crawled back inside.

  Even though he was wearing gloves, his hands were cold, as were his feet. It made him remember the long Alaskan winters and the years he’d had with his father. They’d both been cheated out of so much. Adam’s life had been cut short, and Jonah had lost the only home he’d ever known. Still, he was grateful for the years they’d had.

  Then he thought of Lucia. Being away from her was like a physical ache. He’d never had this kind of feeling
for a woman before. It was frightening to know that such a small woman could have such a profound influence on his life. It was even more frightening to think of what Bourdain would do with her if he ever found out.

  But loving Lucia had turned something around inside Jonah that was giving him a different outlook on life. He could never leave her. Would never leave her. But, at the same time, he would never ask her to live a life on the run with him.

  Because of her—because of this love that he’d found—Jonah had come to a momentous decision. The next time one of Bourdain’s hired guns found him—and they would find him, of that he was sure—he was going to dig in and fight back. No more running. No more looking over his shoulder. He would end it now, like he should have the first time.

  Ten

  J onah’s demeanor was calm, but Bridie could tell something was different. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but something was off. She was straining the milk while he unloaded the wood onto the back porch. When she finished, she called him inside to warm up, then sat him down with a hot cup of coffee and some fresh gingersnaps that she’d just taken out of the oven.

  “These are delicious, thank you,” Jonah said, as he reached for a third cookie.

  Bridie beamed. She loved to cook. Having someone around to eat her cooking was even better.

  “You’re welcome. Now tell me. What’s wrong?”

  Jonah didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about, and he’d been raised in a culture that revered the wisdom of their elders. Besides that, he knew she cared about Lucia.

  “I think Lucia’s stalker was at the cabin yesterday evening. I drove up in the middle of her panic. Hobo was in the woods, chasing something…or someone. I made her lock herself in and went after the dog.”

  Bridie frowned. She didn’t like to think there could be someone that evil on the mountain.

  “Maybe it was a deer…or a big cat. There are some around, you know. Maybe that’s what her dog got at.”

  “It wasn’t a deer, and it wasn’t a cat…unless one of them can drive. It was a man. I trailed him all the way to where he’d parked, but he was already gone.”

  Bridie couldn’t quit playing devil’s advocate, because if his suspicions were right, that meant something bad was afoot.

  “Maybe it was just a hunter.”

  “Then why did he run? Why not just stop and acknowledge his presence? Besides, whoever it was shot her dog after it treed him. It wasn’t a mortal wound, but it was painful. I healed it before we went home, though. She’d already witnessed him nearly losing his leg. I didn’t want her worrying about Hobo, even though I think the stalker is definitely trying to get rid of the dog. That would leave her open for whatever he has in mind.”

  Bridie frowned. “But there’s you. You’re at the house with her.”

  “Not many people know that, and I never got close enough to him last night for him to know I was trailing him. It was all between him and the dog.”

  Bridie leaned back, watching Jonah’s face, knowing in her heart that he was telling the truth as he saw it, but she had yet to witness his supposed healing firsthand and was still inclined to harbor a bit of doubt.

  She reached for the cookie jar and took a gingersnap for herself, then studied the shape of it for a moment before commenting. “So, you gonna tell the sheriff about this?”

  “I suggested it, but Lucia said she went once and he pretty much blew her off. She isn’t willing to do it again.”

  Bridie frowned. “Then what are you gonna do to make sure nothing happens to my girl?”

  A muscle jerked at the side of Jonah’s jaw as he cupped his hands around his coffee cup and stared her square in the eyes.

  “I’m going hunting. When I find him, I might turn him over to the sheriff…or I might make him wish he’d never been born. I haven’t decided yet.”

  Bridie frowned. “I thought you didn’t see him.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Then how are you gonna go about picking someone out of all the people who live in and around Little Top?”

  “I’ll know him.”

  Bridie snorted lightly. “That don’t make a lick of sense. All you’re gonna do is get yourself in trouble, then I’ll be left up here to milk old Molly by myself again.”

  Jonah could tell she was worried for him, not for herself. He laid his hand over hers.

  Bridie felt a sudden burst of energy, as if she’d just been shocked by a little jolt of electricity. She gasped and would have pulled back her hand, but he was still holding on.

  “I will not let you down, and I will know the man who was at the cabin.”

  “Then tell me how,” Bridie asked.

  “I can smell him.”

  Bridie grinned. “Now I know you’re putting me on. Man can’t track by scent.”

  Jonah moved his hand, then rocked back in his chair and emptied his coffee cup. “Those cookies were really good, as was the coffee. I’m going to go feed your chickens and gather the eggs. Do you have a special egg basket you’d like for me to use?”

  Bridie frowned. “Are you changing the subject on me?”

  Jonah stood. “Franklin used to use Old Spice on his face after he shaved, didn’t he?”

  Bridie’s mouth dropped. “How did you know that?”

  “The scent is still in the wood in your floor.”

  Bridie’s eyes widened. “But he’s been gone for ten years, and I’ve mopped these floors many a time since.”

  “I can smell beeswax and lemon oil in this house, as well as mothballs and some kind of liniment compound. Your bath powder has a gardenia scent, and there’s something else…something faint that’s stronger in the living room than it is in here.” Jonah closed his eyes, concentrating on the scent. “Ah, yes…roses. I smell roses.”

  Bridie gasped. Over the years, she’d made a habit of tucking sachets of flower petals beneath the cushions of her sofa. The last ones she’d made had been from the rosebushes just off the back porch. There was no way he could have known. No way he would have found them. No one knew she did that. Not even Franklin had known that little secret. It had been hers alone—until now.

  She glared at him, then pointed toward the door.

  “The egg basket is hanging over there by my coat and scarf. Watch that old red hen when you gather eggs. She’s bad to peck.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jonah said.

  Bridie watched him leave, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All she could smell was coffee and cookies. Then she shook her head as she carried their cups to the sink.

  Whatever Jonah Gray Wolf was, he was doing a good job for her and looking out for Luce, which was all that mattered.

  By the morning of the next day, the snow was beginning to melt. All the while Luce was getting ready for work, Jonah prowled the inside of the cabin like a caged animal. He’d slept fitfully during the night, getting up and down to stoke the fire before looking out the windows to make sure they were still alone. After that, he would crawl back into bed with Luce. Each time, he would pull her close, then rest his chin on the crown of her head and fall back asleep with the scent of their lovemaking still around them.

  But now it was morning, and he was going to have to relinquish her care and safety to a man named Harold, who ran a diner down in Little Top.

  He poured himself a second cup of coffee as Luce came out of her room, then sat down on the sofa to put on her tennis shoes. With all the walking she did during the day, she needed a comfortable pair of shoes.

  And luckily for her, Harold didn’t have a uniform policy, so she was free to wear whatever she chose. This morning she was wearing blue jeans and a red sweater, and had her long, wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail. He felt a surge of satisfaction knowing that he’d put that small love bite on the side of her neck, wondered if she’d seen it, then decided not to mention it. But there was something else he did need to mention. His conversation yesterday with Bridie had started him thinki
ng, and now he couldn’t get it out of his head.

  “I think you should show the sheriff all the notes from the stalker.”

  Luce frowned. “I already showed him.”

  “You showed him one.”

  Luce stood and faced Jonah with her hands on her hips.

  “So I show him the rest, then what? I’ve never seen anyone. No one has tried to break in to the house. I can’t prove that he was the one who set the trap that hurt Hobo. What the hell do I say?”

  “That someone’s frightening you.”

  Luce slapped the sides of her legs, then threw up her hands.

  “Why? Why, Jonah? Why is that going to change anything?”

  “It might help explain why, when I find him, I’m turning him over in little pieces.”

  Luce flinched. She was almost afraid to ask.

  “But we can’t find him, because we don’t have any idea what he looks like.”

  “I can find him. I will find him. If he’s anywhere in town today when I come back to get you, I will find him.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake. How?”

  “I can smell him.”

  Luce stared. She heard what he was saying, but it didn’t seem possible. Then she reminded herself that this was Jonah. She’d witnessed his powers with her own eyes. Finding someone by his or her scent didn’t seem like such a big deal after that.

  “Oh. Well.” Then she grinned. “What about me? Could you track me?”

  He crossed the room and took her in his arms.

  “In the dark, with my eyes closed,” he said.

  Her smile widened. “What do I smell like?”

  He picked her up, then swung her off her feet as he kissed her soundly.

  “You didn’t answer,” Luce said, when he finally turned her loose. “What do I smell like?”

  “You smell like me,” he growled.

  Luce’s heart skipped a beat. After the past two nights, it was no wonder.

  “I need to go to work now,” she said.

  Jonah didn’t budge. “You need to take the notes with you. Please.”