The Healer

by Sharon Sala

  “Am I dead?”

  He picked her up in his arms. “No, dear, but you need to change clothes.”

  Her lower lip suddenly trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. “I caught my sleeve on fire.”

  “I know,” Jonah said softly, as he carried her into the house, then down the hall to her room.

  When he stood her up on her feet, she clasped her hands to her bosom to hold her sagging dress in place. She looked at Jonah once, then turned to stare at herself in the dresser mirror.

  “I was on fire,” she repeated, and kept staring at her blackened clothing and pale skin in disbelief.

  She could see Jonah in the mirror as he stood behind her. His shirtsleeves were scorched, and one cuff was blackened. But his hands were as smooth as her skin.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “I put out the fire.”

  She looked down at her arms, then her hands, then her legs.

  “I felt the fire. I smelled my own flesh a-burning, and yet there’s not a blister on me.”

  “I told you…I put out the fire,” he said softly. “Do you need help cleaning up?”

  Bridie sat down on the side of the bed with a thump.

  “Well, I should say I do,” she said. “I’m too old to be settin’ myself on fire.” Then she sighed. “But I never thought I’d live to see something like this. Maybe you could hand me that blue-denim dress hanging on the inside of my closet door before you go?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jonah said. He handed her the dress. “Do you need anything else?”

  “No.”

  Jonah started to leave, when Bridie suddenly called out, “Jonah!”

  He turned. “Yes?”

  “God has blessed you highly.”

  “Yes, ma’am. That He has.”

  “I’m proud to know you,” she added.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Well. Thank you…and I’m proud to know you, too.”

  Bridie made a face. “Land sakes…I haven’t done a single thing in my whole lifetime that would hold a candle to what you can do.”

  Jonah shook his head. “Oh, but that’s not true. You make the best custard pies I’ve ever eaten.”

  Bridie managed a grin. “Well, there is that.”

  “You get changed. I’m going to clean up the kitchen,” Jonah said.

  Bridie’s lip trembled. “I guess I made a big mess of the noon meal.”

  “Never mind,” Jonah said. “After what just happened, I think you’re due some special attention. How about we go down into Little Top and let Harold feed us today?”

  Bridie sagged. “I don’t know if I’m up to that.”

  “I think you are.”

  She sighed. “I guess we could eat our dinner down at Harold’s. Maybe I could even stay with Ida Mae for a spell until it’s time for Luce to get off work.”

  “I think that’s a fine idea,” Jonah said.

  Bridie nodded, then glanced out the window and frowned. “It’s started to snow.”

  “Then you better bundle up,” Jonah said, and left her to change clothes, while he tended to the burned food, and the water all over the floor. Obviously she tried to put out the fire herself before running out of the house.

  A short while later, Jonah loaded her up and they started toward town. Bridie was silent. Jonah could tell something was on her mind, but he had something on his, as well.

  “Bridie.”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you ever thought about moving to town?”

  She frowned, then clasped her hands into fists and jammed them into her lap.

  “Lord, no. My Franklin put me up on that mountain. I reckon I’ll be there when I go to meet him.”

  “You almost went to meet him today,” Jonah muttered.

  She glared. “What’s that got to do with me moving?”

  “If I hadn’t been there, how long do you think it would have been before somebody found your body?”

  Bridie gasped. Her face went from flushed to pale.

  Jonah sighed. “I’m not trying to scare you, but—”

  “Yes, you are, and it’s working. I reckon I’d like to be buried with all my parts.”

  “If you lived in Little Top, you wouldn’t spend your days alone.”

  “I’m not alone. You’re here,” she argued.

  “But I won’t always be here.”

  Bridie’s expression sagged. “You’re leaving? But I thought—”

  “Not now…but maybe in the spring.”

  “I was kind of hoping you would get attached enough to Luce to stay. I don’t have any children, you know, and I’ve been planning all along to leave my place to her.”

  Jonah smiled. “She would be honored to know you think of her that highly. But I can’t stay permanently here, and you know why.”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t understand why—”

  “Do you know how many people have seen what I can do?”

  She grew still.

  “Pretty soon I won’t be able to drive down Main Street without somebody stopping and turning around to follow me…wanting to be healed…wanting someone to change their life for them. There’s a man who’s been after me for years, wanting to use my powers to his own advantage.”

  “Lord have mercy,” she muttered.

  “Exactly. It’s not that I don’t want to stay. It’s just that I can’t…not and lead any kind of a normal life. Lucia doesn’t deserve that kind of turmoil.”

  “You aren’t going to leave her behind when you go, are you?”

  “Never.”

  “Okay, then,” Bridie said. “So whatever you decide to do, I’m still leaving my place to her.”

  “Why don’t you sell it and move into town? Spend the time you have left helping Ida Mae make quilts and going to the library anytime you want, and having Harold fix your lunch every now and then.”

  “I don’t know,” Bridie said, but Jonah had planted a very fertile seed. The idea of being able to do all that without worrying how it was going to happen was tempting.

  “I know you don’t, but think about it. Okay?”

  She sighed. “I’ll think on it, but I won’t make any promises.”

  “Good enough,” Jonah said, then he pointed. “Ida Mae is at Shug’s getting her truck gassed up. Want to invite her to have lunch with us?”

  Delight spread across Bridie’s face at the spur-of-the-moment idea.

  “Why, I think that would be a fine idea.”

  “Good,” Jonah said, and slowed down before turning off the road and pulling in at the station. He honked the horn.

  Ida Mae saw them, waved, then hurried over. A few minutes later, Jonah was chauffeuring the two best friends into town.

  Fifteen

  L uce was more than surprised when she saw Jonah bringing Bridie and Ida Mae into the diner. She topped off the glass of iced tea Dr. Bigelow was drinking, then headed toward the door.

  “What a nice surprise,” she said, as Jonah leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  Bridie’s eyes were a little too bright. Luce suspected tears.

  “Is everything all right?” Luce asked.

  “It is now,” Jonah said. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Luce nodded. “Good enough. Would you rather sit at a booth or at a table?”

  Bridie and Ida Mae opted for a table. Jonah followed behind them as they talked their way through the room. When he held a chair out for Bridie to be seated, she lifted her chin like royalty and primly sat herself down. Ida Mae giggled when Jonah did the same for her.

  Luce grinned. They were having themselves a day at Jonah’s expense, but he didn’t seem to care. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to get Bridie off the mountain, and when she noticed Jonah keeping a close eye on her, as well, she began to worry. Still, whatever it was had obviously passed. She would learn about it soon enough. She gave them a few minutes to go through the menus and hurried back to the other customers.

&
nbsp; Jonah knew the two old women were discussing the merits of meat loaf as opposed to a piece of fried ham steak, but he was more focused on Lucia.

  Her cheeks were as red as the plaid shirt she was wearing, and she moved among the booths and tables with a skill born of many years at the job, always smiling, laughing, teasing with the people she served.

  He wondered how she would fare in a place where the neighbors were few and the mountains were many—where the sun never fully set in the summer, and the nights were six months long.

  But the longer he loved Lucia, the more he thought about Alaska. He’d never allowed himself to dream about it before he’d met her. Now it was always at the back of his mind.

  Behind him, the door bell jangled as someone entered the diner. He glanced up as the newcomers walked past their table; then every instinct he had went on alert.

  There were two men, both tall, and obviously workout fanatics, because their bodies were so heavily muscled that they walked like robots. One was wearing hunting gear; the other was in denim and leather. They scanned the room for a few seconds before one pointed out Lucia to the other. They grinned and nodded, then headed for a back booth.

  Jonah couldn’t help but wonder if these were the latest of Bourdain’s hunters.

  When Lucia left glasses of water and menus at the men’s booth, they tried to strike up a conversation with her, but she was obviously having none of it. She was polite, but distant.

  Luce was on her way back to take their orders when the doorbell jangled again, only this time it was Dorrie, the second-shift waitress.

  Luce saw her and waved. “Are you lost?” she said, as Dorrie slid into a seat at the next table over from Jonah and the women.

  Dorrie grinned, flashing her snow-white teeth. “Nope. Just shopping.” She held up a couple of sacks, then put them on the floor by her feet. “I’m starved, and the snow is getting heavy. I just want something warm in my belly before I go home.”

  “Harold made chili,” Luce said, then turned to Bridie and Ida Mae. “Girls…have you decided what you want to eat?”

  “Meat loaf with all the trimmings,” they said in unison.

  Luce made a note of their orders, then turned to Jonah. “How about you? Are you having meat loaf, too?”

  “What did those men say to you?” he asked.

  Luce glanced up at the strangers, then caught them watching her and quickly looked away.

  “They just asked if there were any good hunting places around here. I asked them what they were hunting, but they changed the subject.”

  Jonah frowned. “Stay away from them.”

  Luce sighed. “I have to wait on them, Jonah. It’s my job. Now, do you want meat loaf or what?”

  “No, I think I’d rather have some of that chili you mentioned.”

  “Me, too,” Dorrie said from the next table, then grinned at Jonah when he glanced her way. “Hi. How you doin’? You’re new around here, aren’t you?”

  “Sort of,” Jonah said, and then looked away.

  It was obvious she was simply trying to make conversation, because everyone and their hound dog knew who he was. And it was certain that she knew. She worked in the same place that Lucia worked, for heaven’s sake.

  Luce turned in their orders. A few minutes later she was delivering chili and meat loaf to both tables, as well as bowls of chili to the two hunters.

  She was serving the last bowl when one of the hunters reached for her arm. She flinched, and as she did, the bowl of chili went flying. Crockery smashed and chili splattered—all over the table, the floor and the hunter’s pants legs.

  “Damn it, woman! Look what you did!” he yelled, and quickly stood up, brushing at the mess on his clothes with a napkin.

  “I’m sorry,” Luce said. “But you startled me. You shouldn’t have grabbed my arm.”

  “Hell. Can’t a man be friendly?”

  His tone was defiant. Jonah was pissed.

  He stood up.

  Luce glared.

  He hesitated; then, when she went to the back room to get a mop and cleaning supplies, he sat back down.

  “Poor thing,” Dorrie said, and shoved her chili aside. “I’m gonna give her a hand. The sooner those two get out of here, the better off we’ll all be.”

  She got up and hurried to the back room.

  Bridie and Ida Mae fell into a whispered conversation about the rudeness of the younger generation, while Jonah kept watching the men.

  Harold carried another bowl of chili out and helped the men move to another booth, and the uproar settled. It took a few moments for Jonah to realize that Lucia still hadn’t come back with the mop. His first thought was that she was still in the back room, upset, maybe crying. He didn’t know how she would feel if it seemed he was interfering with her job, so he stayed seated for a little while longer.

  But the chili was congealing, and neither Luce nor Dorrie had yet to show their faces. Finally Jonah stood up. He had waited as long as his conscience would allow.

  “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, and headed for the back room.

  The hunters gave him a curious stare as he approached. The closer he got to them, the slower he walked. By the time he passed them by, they were looking down at their food with serious intent.

  Then he walked into the back room. “Hey, Lucia…do you need any—”

  The place was freezing, and there was no one in sight. Then he realized the back door was ajar and moved to close it. As he did, he saw a set of footprints in the snow already on the ground, and what appeared to be drag marks beside them.

  A frown settled on his forehead as he shut the door and turned around. The door to the ladies’ bathroom was open. He glanced in. There was no one in sight. He was about to go check the kitchen when he saw three small red drops near the toe of his boot.

  His heart stopped as he squatted down, swept a fingertip through the drops, then lifted it to his nose.

  Blood!

  He groaned as the hair crawled at the back of his neck. Lucia was gone, and so was Dorrie.

  He spun and dashed to the back door, then yanked it wide open.

  One set of footprints. One set of drag marks.

  Damn it to hell! Bourdain had tricked him big-time. All these years, and this was the first time he’d ever sent a woman after him. He’d been blindsided. Dorrie, or whoever the hell she was, had taken Lucia, and he’d never seen it coming.

  He started back inside, then realized he’d been hearing the sounds of an approaching helicopter. That was when it hit him.

  They were taking her away, just like they’d taken him when they’d kidnapped him from Alaska.

  Now they would use her for bait. He knew Bourdain well enough to know that he would sacrifice anything and anyone to get what he wanted. And he wanted Jonah.

  Just as he started out the door, Harold walked in.

  “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “It was Dorrie! She took Lucia. Call the sheriff. Tell him to stop her SUV and not to let that helicopter take off!”

  Then he bolted out the back door.

  Snow was coming down heavily now—huge, wet flakes the size of duck down that melted on his clothes almost as fast as they landed. He already knew that Lucia was unconscious, or she would be screaming at the top of her voice. But it didn’t matter. Her scent was with him always, and it was guiding him now. All he had to do was follow it to get to her.

  Bourdain landed at the edge of town in an open field. It was as close as he could get. He’d just received a phone call from Dorrie Caufield. She had the woman and was coming in fast.

  Bourdain jumped out of the chopper and began pacing, watching for Caufield to show. The snow was falling faster now, and the pilot was yelling at him that they had to leave now or forget it. But he wasn’t leaving. Not without Jonah Gray Wolf.

  He rubbed at the scars on his chest—the ones left behind by the grizzly that had gutted him. He didn’t know that Jonah Gray Wolf’s healing skills were far greater t
han they had been. He didn’t leave scars anymore.

  Then Bourdain’s cell phone rang.

  Caufield was shouting at the other end. “Someone called the sheriff. I can’t get to you. I’m going up the mountain to the cabin where Gray Wolf’s been staying. The front yard is large enough to land a chopper. We’ll reconnoiter there.”

  “No! No!” Bourdain yelled. “Don’t get into his territory. You’ll never get out!”

  “Shut up and listen!” Caufield screamed. “I’m not going to run an armed roadblock for you or for a million dollars. If you don’t want to play this my way, then I’m letting the bitch go and getting the hell out while the getting is good!”

  Bourdain cursed. Everything was spinning out of control. He didn’t want to face Gray Wolf like this, but this might be the last chance he would ever have to get this close.

  “How do I find this cabin?”

  “Go north up the mountain from town. You’ll see a front porch and a piece of a roof. The cabin is built inside a cave, but the clearing in front is big…plenty big. Are you with me?”

  “Yes. Just don’t lose the woman.”

  The line went dead in Bourdain’s ear. He dropped the phone back in his pocket and vaulted into the chopper.

  “Up the mountain to the north, and hurry!”

  The pilot shook his head. “No way! The air currents will be hell between those peaks, and with the blowing snow, visibility will be minimal, at best.”

  Bourdain pulled a handgun from his pocket.

  “Up now, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot you where you sit and take my chances.”

  The pilot paled, then gritted his teeth and revved the engine. The blades began turning, faster and faster, until the chopper began to rise. Just as it lifted off, a patrol car appeared on the adjoining road.

  Bourdain slapped his leg and laughed. They’d beaten the cops. The rush was a high better than if he’d taken a hit of cocaine. The adrenaline shooting through his veins was like nothing he’d ever experienced. Below, he could see a stick figure of a man getting out of the patrol car and looking up as he talked into a handheld radio. But he was too late. They were beyond the reach of the local authorities.