Washed Away Page 3

  “I’ll come now….” Noah said, trying to calm Jack down, to keep the note of fear out of his own voice. And it was genuine fear. A brute of an animal deranged with terror in a confined space wasn’t the ideal combination. His voice trailed off as Jack made his decision, the toughest of calls, and handed the phone over to his wife.

  The stallion might be a brute of an animal, but its legs were as fragile as glass, and from Jack’s description, the fracture he had sustained was beyond repair.

  Closing his eyes, blocking out the watching audience, Noah listened intently, his voice softer when he spoke next. “I’m right here, Sara. You just make sure Jack’s safe in there….”

  There was a long pause. And even though no one in the store heard the shot, everyone knew what had happened. Running a hand over his forehead, Noah spoke again, his voice deep, calm and reassuring.

  “I’m sorry, buddy, really sorry. And I know it won’t help now, but you know that you did the right thing.”

  Maybe he was out of line, but at that moment Noah was hurting. He wanted to lash out at someone, and it was Chocolate Girl’s eyes that met his as he snapped the phone closed and replaced it in his pocket.

  “Oh, well.” He gave a shrug. “I guess it was only a horse.”

  MAYBE HE’D BEEN too harsh.

  Okay, Noah conceded as he leaned against the truck and took a few deep breaths, he had been harsh. It wasn’t her fault if she didn’t understand how much animals really mattered here in Turning Point. He’d had no right to imply she didn’t give a damn.

  She probably didn’t, though, Noah thought, but without malice now. How could anyone, unless they lived on the land, understand the delicate balance between man and beast; contemplate that without the animals, Turning Point would be a virtual ghost town. Sure, there was agriculture, acre after acre of rich soil providing vital crops, but the animals were the beat of the land.

  Climbing into his van, he started the engine, watching as the woman ran across the pavement, her long limbs breaking into an effortless sprint as if she were some beautiful thoroughbred. Her long dark ponytail streaming behind her, she held the plastic bags to her chest as if they contained some sort of treasure, and Noah held back the sudden urge to climb out and run over to her, to apologize for his behavior. But what would be the point? he reasoned, pulling away from the pumps and signaling right, glancing in his rearview mirror and seeing her blinker indicating left. No doubt she’d forgotten the whole incident by now and was driving off to wherever the action was, off to report on other people’s misery….

  “Hey, Madge.” He smiled as his faithful old dog nuzzled at his hand for a stroke. Dark eyes stared back at him—endearing eyes, but not nearly as endearing as the woman who had just breezed in and out of his life and whirled up a ministorm of her own. His cell phone was ringing again and Noah forcibly pushed the image of Chocolate Girl out of his mind; he had enough to be getting on with today without daydreaming about some woman he’d barely said two words to. That thought was further confirmed as he put the call on to Speaker, frowning as the anxious voice of another usually laid-back farmer filled the van, intermittent bleeps indicating that yet another caller was trying to get through….

  And a feeling that had been creeping up for a couple of hours now took hold of Noah. Gripping the steering wheel as he drove into town, he wished he possessed some sort of virtual dream catcher, something that could trap the uneasy thoughts that were flooding his mind now, quash the fears that were starting to take hold….

  …halt an approaching nightmare.

  “HEY, NOAH!” Mitch Kannon came running over as Noah started to unload the equipment. “Been picking up a few strays on your travels?”

  “I wish.” Noah shrugged, but his moment of self-pity was wasted on Mitch Kannon. The fire chief would be in no mood to hear about some stranger Noah had almost met in a gas station. A stranger who Noah simply couldn’t quite manage to push out of his thoughts. There was something about her that had him enthralled, something about her elusiveness that served to drag him in. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been endearing, hadn’t exactly bowled him over with her charm. And yet…

  “Is business so bad that you need to pick up strays?” Mitch asked with a grin.

  “I’m driving with blinkers on from now on,” Noah admitted. “Strays are the last thing I need right now.”

  “Trouble?” Mitch asked perceptively, helping Noah unload the van and carry the equipment into the building.

  “I took a call from Jack Sawyer half an hour ago.”

  “And?”

  “Had to listen as he put a bullet through Blaze….”

  “What?” Mitch shook his head, genuinely appalled at the news.

  “There was nothing I could do—he’d gone crazy, taken fright and fractured his leg. It was a severe fracture. Even if I’d been there, I don’t doubt for a second that the outcome would have been the same. Jack had no choice. It was the humane thing to do. Must have hurt like hell, though,” he added as they headed back to the van, unloading the last of the supplies. The animals caged in the back made frantic noises.

  “They’re pretty worked up,” Mitch commented as a loud thud sounded against the side of the van, causing the fire chief to jump.

  “You should try driving with them,” Noah said, heaving the last of the supplies out of the truck and following Mitch back to the station. “Either it’s the mother of all storms about to hit Corpus Christi, or the predictions are wrong and it’s heading this way!”

  It had been a joke—sort of.

  Mitch set the large box he carried down onto the floor inside the station. Noah did the same.

  “You’re well set up,” Noah said, staring around the room.

  “It wasn’t me.” Mitch shrugged. “The team from California are efficient to say the least, and believe me, right now, I’m more than happy that I sent for reinforcements when I did.” He took a deep breath. “What makes you think the storm could be heading this way, Noah?” Mitch’s voice was serious, his question delivered in his usual direct way with not a hint of scorn attached, which told Noah his concerns were being taken seriously.

  “The animals are going crazy,” Noah said. “I know that’s not much to go on. I mean, they always get upset by storms, and I’m used to them acting weird at times for no reason, but you should hear them back at the clinic, Mitch. They’re climbing the cages, pacing like crazy. Look at what’s just happened to Blaze, and it’s not only him. I’ve had a couple more farmers calling to tell me the animals are starting to panic. They’re acting just as they did last time a big storm headed this way.”

  “It’s not heading this way, though.” Mitch shook his head.

  His voice was firm, but something in his eyes told Noah that the chief didn’t believe his own words.

  “I’ve just been on to the weather bureau, and they’re still convinced it’s heading for Corpus Christi.”

  “Still convinced? So you’ve already been on to the bureau and told them that you’re worried.” When Mitch didn’t answer, Noah persisted. “Which means you’re thinking along the same lines as me, doesn’t it.”

  “Yep.”

  “Damn, we’ve got the school filling with evacuees from Corpus Christi, we’ve got busloads still heading in….”

  “And my daughter’s out there.”

  Mitch never played the emotion card, and seeing the chief’s worried eyes, Noah felt as if he had been hit in the chest with an iron fist.

  “What do you want me to do, Mitch?” Noah respected Mitch, and if there was anything he could do to help, then Noah would do it. “Do you want me to call the bureau, tell them how the animals are reacting?”

  He half expected Mitch to laugh, to tell him that the bureau wasn’t about to listen to some veterinarian with a half-baked idea that his animals were talking to him, but when Mitch gave a worried nod, Noah’s heart sank.

  “It’s worth a try.”

  It took forever for Noah to get through. No d
oubt half of Turning Point was trying to contact the bureau, as well. These people knew their land, knew the shifts in the weather. They’d been through enough hurricanes and floods to know when trouble was in the air, and it was in the air now, Noah could feel it. The rain was pelting down and the wind howled angrily; even inside the fire station Noah was forced to shout into the phone just to be heard.

  “What did they say?” Mitch asked as Noah replaced the receiver in its cradle.

  “That by their calculations we’ve got nothing to worry about. That we’re to carry on with the evacuation protocol as outlined.”

  “Damn!” Mitch banged his fist down on the desk in exasperation. “We’re like sitting ducks. The storm’s getting worse by the minute, I’ve got teams out there doing rescues. I’ve even had an emergency team flown in to the area, when I should have been getting everyone the hell out. I’ve sent them on rescues—”

  “You didn’t know at the time the storm was heading this way,” Noah said. “We still don’t know for sure, Mitch.” Taking a couple of breaths, he willed himself to stay calm. There was no point losing their heads. “We still don’t,” Noah said again, but more firmly this time, and Mitch nodded back, his face taut with tension but back in full control now.

  “Noah, I know your animals mean everything to you. And I know that at times like this you’re supposed to be at the clinic….”

  “They’re not humans, Mitch.” Noah knew what was coming. He loved his animals and his old house that was attached to the sparkling modern clinic he had built from the ground up. The veterinary clinic was his life. Every waking moment of his day was filled with caring for animals. But he was highly skilled and trained in medical procedures, and if he and Mitch were right and the storm was heading this way, then Noah knew that his skills would be put to better use right here in town.

  Saving human lives.

  “I’m going back to the clinic, Mitch. I’ll secure the animals that I’ve got in the van and make sure the rest are okay, then I’ll lock up and come straight back to town.”

  “I hate to ask this of you, Noah.”

  “You didn’t ask.” Noah gave a wry smile. “I offered. Let’s just hope I’m not needed. Let’s just hope we’re both worrying about nothing.”

  “Let’s hope, huh?”

  Noah was running toward the exit now, racing to get back to the clinic and tend to the animals so he could return to town and help. But something stopped him at the door, a feeling he couldn’t identify.

  “What’s up, Noah?” Mitch asked, coming over to him.

  Noah stood there, eyeing the rows of equipment all neatly set up, and the sense of foreboding that had niggled now, churned his stomach.

  “If you didn’t know the area, Mitch, didn’t know just how bad the storms and floods can be here, what would you do?”

  “Find out the hard way, I guess.” Mitch started to joke, but when he realized Noah was serious, he changed tack. “There’re announcements every few minutes on the radio, Noah. I’ve got teams out there guiding people to the evacuation centers. Even if you didn’t know the area, you’d soon figure out what was coming and find somewhere safe.”

  “I guess so.”

  “What’s on your mind, Noah?” Mitch asked.

  “I don’t know.” Noah gave a shrug, embarrassed to find Mitch eying him with concern. How could he explain to this down-to-earth guy this strange fear that seemed to be clutching his heart?

  It wasn’t just his belief there was a storm heading this way that was making him feel so edgy. He thought of those velvet brown eyes that had held his for a moment in time.

  Chocolate Girl was out there in a town that was turning more dangerous by the minute, and for reasons he couldn’t rationalize even to himself, it terrified the hell out of him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “I’M THE LOCAL VET!” Pulling a face, Cheryl did a pale imitation of Noah’s voice as she drove angrily along. Even with a few miles safely between them, she was still stinging from the encounter at the gas station, still smarting from the local vet’s remarks as well as her own part in the exchange. She wished she could hit the rewind button on that awful conversation. Why hadn’t she just turned and said “No problem” when Dr. Perfect jumped the queue?

  That was what normal people did. Cheryl sighed. That was exactly what her response would have been two years ago: she would have shrugged and given an easy smile, bitten her tongue over a minor annoyance, instead of charging like a bull at a red flag, provoking confrontation…erecting barriers.

  It was almost second nature to her now, putting up protective screens around her heart the second she felt her guard was down. One look at the local vet and her guard had fallen around her ankles like a pair of panties without elastic. Good-looking, friendly and able to deflect her barbs—a heady combination, and the very last thing she needed right now. The very last thing she needed full stop, Cheryl thought, forcibly pushing all thoughts of the handsome stranger out of her mind. Pulling over to the side of the road, she checked her map. The directions and landmarks that had seemed so straightforward when Mitch had given them to her were almost useless now with the wipers going at full tilt and visibility down to near zero.

  If the weather had been bad an hour ago, it was dire now.

  She had to be near her destination, Cheryl reasoned, running a finger along the map, following her journey from Turning Point. There was the garage where she’d filled up the Jeep, there was the crossroad where she’d swung left, and over there…Wiping the side window with the sleeve of her coat, Cheryl glanced over at the swollen river gushing rapidly alongside the road, its dirty gray surf rolling more like waves on an ocean, before she turned back to the map. She’d followed the instructions to the letter, so where the hell was the farmhouse? She thought about calling Mitch, but decided to leave that as a last resort. Mitch didn’t have time to hold her hand today. Maybe she could wave down a passing car. But knowing her luck, it would be that smug vet that stopped to help. His already overinflated ego would be pumped up a touch further when he saw the scrape she was in….

  “Stop it,” Cheryl scolded herself. Why was she allowing herself to dwell on something so irrelevant? Wiping down the windows again, she was about to reach for the phone and admit she was hopelessly lost, when a driveway she could have sworn hadn’t been there a couple of moments ago appeared in her sideview mirror. Cheryl allowed herself a triumphant smile.

  She’d made it on her own!

  “THANK YOU SO MUCH for coming out to us.”

  As Beth ushered her into the hallway, the first thing to hit Cheryl was the delicious smell of home baking.

  “You have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Beth said. “I know how busy everyone is today.”

  “It is Beth, isn’t it?” Cheryl asked, shaking the woman’s hand briefly. “I’m Cheryl Tierney. Mitch told me you’ve got a little guy in a lot of pain who needs to be seen.”

  “I do. His name’s Flynn.”

  “Flynn.” Cheryl smiled at the small boy lying on the sofa as Beth showed her through to the living area. The smell of baking gave way to that delicious new-baby smell, the powdery, milky scent of innocence. Cheryl glanced over to the crib in the corner. A tiny precious bundle lay sleeping quietly there. She turned back to the boy. His arm was elevated on a cushion, his green eyes staring up at her, and for a tiny guilt-tinged moment, Cheryl felt something so alien it took a second to register. The feeling that seemed to reach out and knot her stomach in one single-handed motion was jealousy. If Cheryl had made a blueprint of her life ten years ago, this was where she would have liked to be at the ripe old age of thirty-one.

  At home with her babies.

  Not a visiting nurse, frozen to the core, hair plastered to her scalp. Not a newly divorced, slightly brittle career woman, with a fitness regime that would rival that of any sports professional. Okay, Turning Point wasn’t exactly New York, and her ex-husband Joe was a lawyer rather than a firefighter, but the home Beth
had created had Cheryl’s throat tightening. Long suppressed dreams momentarily surfaced as she glimpsed the life she had thought she’d be leading, and she felt a pang of homesickness for a city she still missed and a family that had fallen apart.

  Oh, she’d fallen in love with Courage Bay. She’d embraced the healthy outdoor lifestyle with open arms, joined a gym within a few weeks of arriving and shopped till she’d dropped on rather too many occasions. Fashion was a newly discovered passion of Cheryl’s, now that her salary wasn’t tied up in Joe’s education. And she loved the challenges of her work as a trauma nurse at Courage Bay Hospital.

  But as happy as she was, as fulfilled as her life might be, every now and then her loss hit her as if it had all happened only yesterday. Anything could set her off. An elderly couple walking hand in hand along the beach reminded her of her parents, a hotshot lawyer on a TV show resembled her ex-husband Joe, a baby sleeping in its pram recalled lost dreams. And now a seven-year-old boy named Flynn, with green eyes and blond hair….

  “Hi, Flynn.” Cheryl smiled at him, pushing her own feelings aside, remembering in an instant why she was here. “My name’s Cheryl.”

  “Are you a doctor?” he asked in a lisping voice.

  His two front teeth were missing, and his eyes were so suspicious Cheryl found herself smiling.

  “No,” she answered. “There wasn’t a doctor free to come out, so I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with me. I’m a trauma nurse.”

  “What’s that?”

  Cheryl didn’t mind the questions a bit; at least they took Flynn’s mind off his injury as she gently examined it. “Well, I work in the emergency department of a hospital in Courage Bay, California.”

  “So you see lots of injured people, then?” Flynn asked his eyes widening. “Do you see guts hanging out and legs falling off?”

  “Flynn!” Beth broke in. “Where did you learn to speak like that?”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” Cheryl winked at her small patient. “It’s a perfectly good question. I see lots of things,” Cheryl replied assuredly as she examined his arm, wincing inside as Flynn bit back a yelp. She decided to prolong the rather gory conversation just to keep Flynn’s mind off his pain as she gently palpated the swollen wrist. “Lots of blood and guts, though I haven’t seen too many legs falling off.”