Her Shadow

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Her Shadow Page 2

by Aimée Thurlo


  Bradford had found a new home here at the high school, in the barns run by the agricultural club. The animal had lived up to expectations, remaining docile even through the rowdiness of high-school football games—just as long as the kids brought a few chocolate-chip cookies to bribe him with. This particular animal had developed a passion for chocolate-chip cookies when Mauro had used them as a training aid.

  Marlee heard the buffalo stamping the ground as she walked past. “Sorry, Bradford. I don’t have any cookies today.”

  Marlee heard something snap, then the animal grunted loudly. Surprised by the noise, she turned her head. As she did, Bradford butted his massive head against the gate, forcing it open.

  She wanted to run, but fear and shock paralyzed her. In the time it took for her to draw her next breath, the beast turned in her direction and bellowed angrily.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she became aware of the thunder of hoofbeats behind her. Then, the next instant, she felt herself being lifted off the ground and pulled up onto the rider’s lap. Strong arms enveloped her as the horse brushed past the immense beast.

  Marlee was aware of everything. The hard muscles of her rescuer’s chest, the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Without turning to look, she knew the man holding her was Lucas. Her body knew his on an instinctive level she would never have been able to explain. As her hips pressed intimately against his thighs, a shudder traveled up her spine.

  Lucas reined in his mount fast, turning to block the way between Bradford and the crowd as Gabriel and Joshua jumped into action, trying to herd the bison back into his pen. But Bradford was angry, and not in the mood for co operation. He never quite charged at either Gabriel or Joshua, who were on foot, but instead tried to get around them, showing less patience after each foiled attempt.

  “I think he’s seen too many football games,” Gabriel yelled. “He knows about head fakes and fancy footwork.”

  “They have to entice him, and for that they’ll need cookies,” Marlee told Lucas. Moving quickly, she slid off Lucas’s horse, on the side away from the angry bison, and ran to Mrs. Tapia’s booth. The woman made the best chocolate-chip cookies in the county. As she drew near, Mrs. Tapia held out a paper bag full of cookies.

  “Here you go. If you can’t bribe him with these, then it’s hopeless.”

  Marlee thanked the woman, then circled around behind Gabriel. Taking a handful of cookies, she waved them in the air for Bradford to catch the scent. “These are hoofs-down the best you’ll ever get, Bradford. Want a bite? Come on. Let’s go back to your pen.”

  Marlee felt like a new kind of pied piper as the animal’s focus shifted away from Gabriel and Joshua. He lifted his nose high, sniffing the air.

  “Don’t take your eyes off him,” Lucas warned.

  Marlee tossed one cookie on the ground before the animal, then moved toward the pen. Bradford snatched up the fallen cookie, ate it in one gulp, then happily trotted over to where Marlee had set down the open bag on the far side of the pen. As the animal discovered the cache, Marlee hurried out the gate.

  “What happened to the latch?” she asked as Lucas swung the gate closed behind her and fastened it shut. “Did he break it?”

  Lucas shook his head. “It works fine. Whoever fed him this morning must have been in a hurry and didn’t close it properly.”

  Joshua gestured toward the animal. “Something aggravated him. Maybe it was a bee or wasp.”

  “Or some troublemaker looking for a little excitement,” Gabriel said, bending down to pick up a large rubber band that was on the ground just inside the stall. “I’ll ask around and see if anybody was watching Bradford just before he got out. I’d like.to talk to the idiot responsible for this.”

  As more townspeople arrived at the school grounds, Lucas and Gabriel checked the latch again to be sure that the gate was securely fastened.

  Lucas took Marlee’s hand and gently pulled her aside. The warmth of his touch spread through her like fire.

  “Great idea about the cookies,” he murmured. “You deserve a reward.’’

  His deep voice reverberated, dancing along her nerves like thunder from an approaching storm. “What did you have in mind?” she asked. She’d wanted to keep her voice steady, to act cool and collected, but as she heard her voice waver, she realized she’d failed miserably. She cleared her throat and hoped Lucas hadn’t noticed

  “What do you say we skip the booths and take some time for ourselves? I’ve arranged for backup medical help here today, so I won’t be missed for a few hours.” He gestured toward his horse. “I understand you’ve been unable to get out to the spot in the mountains where you planted your camomile. Come with me now. Chief can carry double. Your car may not make it on that sorry excuse for a road, but Chief won’t have any problems at all. We can put what we gather in the saddlebags.”

  The thought of riding with Lucas anywhere made Mar-lee’s heart race, but she recognized it as a foolhardy and reckless temptation. She wouldn’t torture herself with what could never be hers. She started to say no, but Lucas interrupted her.

  “I know your herbal remedies help a lot of the senior citizens. The tea you make with that camomile is important to you and them. This is your chance. Are you game?”

  She couldn’t say no, not when he’d put it that way. “I do need that camomile.” Actually, she’d probably need tons of the soothing drink herself after she came back from that ride. Lucas’s company was anything but calming.

  “It’s settled, then.” Lucas turned Chief around, lifted her onto the saddle, then mounted behind her in one fluid motion. “Hang on to the horn and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll have my arms around you. You won’t fall.”

  Marlee forced herself not to tremble as she felt Lucas’s body against hers again. She was playing with fire, but surely even she deserved some carefree moments on this special day. His strong arms encircled her, imprisoning her in a tender trap as they trotted away. Having ridden as a teen, Marlee soon moved in rhythm with the animal and Lucas.

  A melting warmth seeped through her. She was nestled securely between the horn, the saddle and Lucas. As she shifted, she felt his body tighten. Knowing she could affect him like that filled her with an intoxicating exhilaration.

  They rode in silence to where she’d planted her herbs, and soon were on the way back, the saddlebags filled. As they crossed an old logging road on the way to town, she caught a glimpse of movement to her right. It was only for an instant, but Marlee saw the peddler clearly. He was walking slowly back to his van, which was parked just off the little-used track.

  “Did you see him?” she gasped as they started up a nearby trail.

  “See who?”

  “The peddler. He was back there on the logging road,” she said, cocking her head.

  Lucas sucked in his breath with a hiss. “Let’s go take a look.” He reined the horse in, turned him around expertly on the narrow trail and trotted back to the spot in the road Marlee had indicated. There was nothing there now except a set of worn tire tracks and the faint impression of a pair of boots.

  “Are you sure it was the peddler you saw?”

  “He’s not a person anyone from Four Winds would ever mistake,” she said in a muted voice. “Good things happen whenever he comes, but the town always pays a price in blood and tears.”

  “From the tracks, I’d say he’s on the way to town now. If we hurry, we may be able to cut him off before a new cycle of trouble begins.”

  Chapter Two

  Lucas kept a sharp lookout for the peddler on the way back to Four Winds, but neither the man nor his distinctive old van was anywhere to be seen. “Are you sure it was the peddler?” he asked for the second time.

  “Yes, but I just don’t understand this. Where could he have gone? We should have spotted him by now, cutting cross-country like this.”

  Lucas urged Chief forward at a steady lope. “There’s no telling what’ll happen if he shows up in town today. He won’t
exactly be the guest of honor at the festival.” Lucas remembered the peddler’s last two visits. The gift he’d given Lanie before she’d become Gabriel’s wife had almost destroyed the eldest Blackhorse brother and the woman he quickly came to love. Lucas’s brother Joshua and his wife had fared no better when Nydia had accepted the peddler’s gift to her.

  The blackening clouds overhead suddenly flashed white, and an enormous clap of thunder shook the ground. Chiefs ears went flat back, and he broke into a gallop.

  “Easy boy,” Lucas said, tightening his hold on Marlee as he eased the mustang back to a trot. “He hates thunder, but he’ll settle down. Don’t worry. I’ll hang on to you,” Lucas murmured, pulling Marlee back against his chest.

  She was soft against him, trusting, though Chief’s reaction had scared her. Lucas felt a fierce sense of protective-ness stealing over him, though he knew he had no right to those feelings. His life, his loyalties, belonged to Four Winds. They needed a medic here, and he was it. There was no room for a woman in his life. But it was more than that. Theirs was a town filled with secrets. Marlee had never pried into his, and he’d returned the favor, though it was obvious she’d had troubles in her past. The town’s convention of privacy was a barrier that had kept them both safe.

  Still, as she leaned back against him, desire knifed at his gut. Her hair smelled of wildflowers. He felt her stir against him, and knew that she was as acutely aware as he that the desire burning between them did not require their consent to exist:

  Sometimes it felt as if some unnamed power in Four Winds was trying to bring them closer, though neither of them had given in to that attraction. Of course, if Marlee had allowed it, and he could have been sure of not hurting her, he would have been willing to see things through—to explore his hunger for the sweet, gentle woman he now held in his arms.

  He let that dangerous thought die right there. Marlee deserved better than that. She didn’t need halfway propositions any more than he did, and he wasn’t able to go more than halfway. He needed his independence. They were both better off not taking things to a point neither was prepared to handle.

  As he slowed Chief to a fast walk, his forearm brushed against her breast. That contact seared through him, and instinct guided him to lower his head to press a kiss against the soft column of Marlee’s neck. As his mouth drew close, the skies opened, and thick sheets of rain poured down on them.

  Marlee shivered. “If the peddler is in town, it looks like nature just found a way to cool off any hostility people might be showing.”

  It cooled off a few other things, too. Frustration ate at Lucas as he cradled Marlee against his body, knowing she was cold and hoping the fires within him would help warm her. He wished that it could have been different for them, that duty didn’t demand that he continually suppress his feelings for her. It would have been so easy to just let go, to let passion rule. But that would have been a dangerous course for them both.

  By the time they arrived at the end of Main Street, the roads and sidewalks were empty. The town’s residents peered out from behind storefronts and doorways. As Lucas and Marlee approached the high-school campus, they saw that the water-soaked booths had been abandoned.

  It took about a half hour to assure them both the peddler’s van wasn’t in town. Marlee was shivering by the time they approached the boardinghouse she operated. Although the rain had all but quit, the wind had risen and was cutting right through their damp clothing. Her house looked warm and welcoming.

  “Why don’t you come in with me? Chief can graze on the lawn while you dry off.”

  “You talked me into it,” Lucas said, a shudder traveling over him.

  “You’re freezing, too, right?”

  As Lucas dismounted and reached up to help her out of the saddle, he stopped suddenly, listening. Before she could move away, he reached for her hand, stopping her. “Wait. Stay still for a minute.”

  A stint with the Marines had taught him to trust his instincts, and something sure didn’t feel right here. He waited for a long moment, listening, his body tense, poised for trouble.

  “Do you hear that?” he asked at last.

  “What?” she whispered, slipping down to the ground easily.

  “It sounded like a car engine.” He crouched down and studied the imprint of tires evident in the sandy gravel of Marlee’s driveway. “Someone came through here a very short time ago, and these tracks look familiar.” He slipped the bridle off his horse so it could graze easily, then led the way down the narrow drive into the backyard.

  An old VW van had been driven all the way around to the rear of the house, and was parked out of sight of the road. Marlee inhaled sharply. “It’s the peddler’s van. I’d know it anywhere.”

  “Yes, but where is the peddler?” Lucas turned around in a circle, trying to spot the old man. The van’s engine was off now, but still ticking occasionally as it cooled.

  “Let’s go find him.” Marlee walked around Lucas be-fore he could stop her.

  “Slow down. Something isn’t right here,” Lucas cautioned as they approached the vehicle.

  As they drew near, the sliding door opened halfway. The peddler appeared at the opening, soaked to the skin, and looking pale and disoriented. He stepped down slowly, resting against the side of the vehicle. His breathing was labored. “I need help,” he mumbled weakly.

  Marlee didn’t hesitate to offer him a hand. “Let’s get you inside the house where it’s warm. Lucas will take a look at you there.”

  “Wait,” Lucas protested. “I’d rather take him to my clinic. I’ve got my equipment there, and some medical supplies. Besides, it may be dangerous for you to have him here, particularly if anyone sees his van.”

  The peddler turned, took a step, then suddenly collapsed.

  Lucas reacted instantly, dropping the bridle he was carrying and catching the old man before he hit the ground.

  “Looks like the choice is out of our hands,” Marlee said, picking up Chief’s tack. “You can’t take him anywhere until you assess his condition, and to do that, we’re going to have to get him out of this weather.”

  “I don’t have my medical kit here,” Lucas objected, hurrying toward Marlee’s house with the old man in his arms.

  Marlee paused for a moment. “There’s a doctor’s bag in the house. It’s been here a long time, but it should contain enough to get you started. It has a stethoscope, a BP cuff, a positive-pressure ventilator, sterile packs, sutures, all kinds of things.”

  Lucas was reminded once again that Marlee’s past, like that of so many other Four Winds residents, was tucked away behind a closed door that hid many secrets. But something about her assessment of the situation, and her familiarity with medical terminology, attested to experience in the field. Wondering about her more than ever, he followed Marlee down the hall carrying the peddler.

  By the time he stepped through the doorway of an empty guest room, Marlee had already pulled down the covers of the bed.

  Lucas lowered the peddler onto the mattress, and was pulling off the man’s wet boots when Marlee came in holding a towel and a dry change of clothes. “This shirt and pants aren’t in the greatest condition, but they’re clean and dry and about his size. They were here in an old trunk when I moved in. While you change his clothes, I’ll go find the medical bag.”

  Marlee left the room, and returned a few minutes later holding a black medical bag.

  Lucas met her gaze as he took the bag from her, not asking but hoping she’d offer some explanation.

  “Use whatever you need from it. It’s been sitting around gathering dust for years.”

  Lucas started to ask, unable to suppress his curiosity, but a soft moan from the peddler brought his thoughts back to the business at hand.

  As she left him alone again with the patient, Lucas opened the bag. Everything looked used, but in good condition. Taking out the BP cuff and the stethoscope, he began to work.

  Lucas checked the man over thoroughly, verifying
there were no signs of trauma, but the peddler’s skin was hot and feverish. Using a digital ear thermometer from the bag, he verified that the peddler’s temperature was elevated, but not dangerously so. Finding such a modern piece of equipment in the old medical bag, however, disturbed him. It didn’t fit with Marlee’s story that the bag had been sitting unused in the house for a long time. Of course, she might have added that item recently herself, but he had a feeling there was more of a story behind the bag than she was telling him.

  Lucas continued his examination. He knew nothing about the peddler, except that he appeared to be Navajo. There were lots of crazy stories linking the peddler to Four Winds, some connecting him all the way back to the time when the town was founded. But those were nonsense. The man would have had to be a century old. Of course, it was possible that the business had been handed down in the peddler’s family. Unfortunately the man was in no condition at the moment to be questioned.

  The only thing Lucas could say with any certainty was that the peddler was over fifty, though he exuded an age-lessness that was not uncommon among the Dineh, the Navajo people.

  The peddler’s faded gray eyes slowly blinked open, and he tried to pull himself up onto his elbows to look around.

  “Easy there. You’re safe here,” Lucas said, gently pushing the man back onto the bed. Lucas silently noted that his patient’s pupils were not dilated. He seemed alert and aware of what was happening. That, in itself, was a good sign. “How are you feeling?”

  The man brushed a lock of salt-and-pepper hair from his eyes, and tried to moisten his parched lips with the tip of his tongue. “Thirsty.”

  Lucas went to the bathroom, returning with a glass of water. “I’m going to need to get some medical information from you before I can help much. Do you have any idea what’s making you so weak?”

 

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