Love's Miracles (4 page)

***

Zane
dashed through the house and into the bathroom where he rummaged in the
cupboard for first-aid supplies. His fingers were starting to shake. He swore.
Who was that woman out there and what on earth was she doing here? Impatiently,
he shoved the box of Boraxo aside to reach the package of cotton.

He
should be thankful she’d arrived. He’d been having a devil of a time getting
that fawn to quiet down. After finding it on his way home from his hike, he’d
struggled with the frightened animal all the way to the cabin. Still, no one
just dropped in. Not in the eight months he’d been here.

Except
Vinnie. His brother was due this week. A hard knot formed in his gut. Had
something happened to Vinnie?

He
found the cotton and tossed it into a plastic tub with the other supplies.
First he’d have to tend to the injured fawn. Then he’d find out about the
woman.

Outside
he quickened his pace. But when he neared the woman and deer, he paused. She
sat with her head bowed and the deer cradled in her arms. She looked as forlorn
as the animal did.

Her
brown eyes had been as wide as the deer’s when she’d first seen him. He glanced
down at his blood-splattered clothing and shook his head. No wonder she’d been
ready for attack. He had to hand it to her, though. She’d stayed calm and reacted
quickly, not like most women he knew. They would have panicked at the sight
alone.

Annoyed,
Zane knelt in front of them. It didn’t matter how she acted; she didn’t belong
here. She was trespassing and as soon as the deer was taken care of, he’d get
rid of her.

“Hold
her head back and use your other arm to keep her forelegs still,” he ordered,
his voice harsher than he intended.

The
rough sound alarmed the fawn, who began to struggle again. The woman tightened
her hold, but he saw more than strain in her expression. She kept alternating
her glance from the deer to him. He could almost feel the probing questions –
questions she had no business asking. Zane silently swore.

“Easy
now,” he said to them both, forcing his voice to soothe. “Calm down. I’m going
to sew this up with some thread that dissolves.”

He
rambled on, hoping the low tones would pacify the deer until he could finish
the job. It even helped to calm his own jangled nerves. It wasn’t often these
days that he heard the sounds of his own voice – or others for that matter.

As
he wiped away some of the blood, his stomach knotted. He closed his eyes for a
second to block the sudden flood of memories. Opening his eyes, he blotted more
of the blood. The sight of it sickened him, but the sight of death sickened him
more.

All
around him men sprawled in the back of the chopper, their bodies contorted and
stained with blood. He had flown the helicopter in to lift them out of enemy
territory, but the CH-46 was a mangled heap of metal – no use to them now. It
had been shot down and could blow any second. No time to call Da Nang and get a
rescue crew.

Zane
yelled as he struggled out the door. “Get out! On the double!”

Al
and several other grunts hit the dirt. Suddenly shots rang out. Men screamed in
pain. An explosion ripped the ground as the chopper blew.

Bile
rose in Zane’s throat. Fear constricted his body until he saw Al jerk several
times and then crumple over.

He
screamed, “Al!”

Again
Zane closed his eyes against the nightmare memories. The woman’s voice cut into
his thoughts, breaking the hold they had on him.

“Will
she be all right?”

Zane
lifted his forearm to wipe the beads of sweat that had suddenly appeared on his
brow. “The injury isn’t as bad as it looks. Once she recovers from the shock,
she’ll be fine.”

He
worked swiftly to sew the gap in the flesh. He knew she followed every move he
made and wondered what she was thinking. Could she tell his surgical moves were
trained and experienced? Would she know he’d done this thousands of times
before, only on men instead of a deer?

Wary
and gruff, he asked, “What’re you doing here?”

Her
glance flew from his hands to his eyes. The deer jerked and she refocused on
the animal. “I’ll tell you when we’re done,” she managed between her struggles.

She
was stalling.
What for?
he wondered. Something was up. He knew it and
his intuition was usually on target. It had saved his life many times in Nam
when he’d been hiding out in the jungle hoping the enemy wouldn’t find him. His
intuition had saved lives while he was at sea commanding the fleet of Zanelli
fishing boats. Too bad he hadn’t relied on it the last time. He’d almost killed
one of his best crews.

He
eyed her closely and wondered if she could be a reporter. Zanelli, Incorporated
was often in the news, thanks to Vinnie. His brother openly fought for the
rights of the fishing industry against the pressure from ecology-minded
organizations. Most of the time Zane agreed with the ecologists, which was
another reason he didn’t miss his former life as head of the corporation.

He
stared at the brilliant colors of her clothing, then at her face.
A city
woman.
Suspicion unfurled. Maybe Vinnie had sent her.

“You
from San Francisco?”

“Berkeley.”

His
suspicion deepened, but he didn’t pursue the questioning. Not now. He didn’t
want to upset the deer with possible anger. Another stitch slipped into place
while his mind raced with speculation. Maybe she was lost. There were several
old lumber roads that meandered through the forest.

Her
voice interrupted his thoughts. “She seems to be weakening.”

He
looked at her arms as they gripped the fawn and could see the strain. “You’re
doing fine. I’m almost done.”

The
last suture closed the gap and Zane tied it with deft movements. He sloshed
disinfectant over the wound before he spoke again. “This is Zanelli timberland
that you’re on. It’s private property.”

“Good.
I was beginning to wonder if I had the right place.”

He
tensed and began checking the deer’s hindquarters for any other injuries. What
could she possibly want? She didn’t look like a woman who would come all this
way for a social call. She wanted something. Maybe he shouldn’t ask. He
finished with the deer and glanced up at her. “You can let her go now,” he
advised.

Carefully,
he lifted the fawn and helped the animal to its feet. It wobbled for several
seconds, took a couple of bounds, then paused to look at its human benefactors
before turning slowly to walk toward the forest.

***

Margo
stood and watched the awkward movements of the small animal. She marveled at
its resiliency. She felt wobbly herself now. Her stomach was still doing
flip-flops.

Margo’s
glance slid to the man she’d come to see. He stood tall, around six-one, with a
broad chest and lean hips. His ministrations to the deer had been gentle in
spite of his large hands. He had really cared about the animal’s welfare. It
was a good sign and not what she’d expected. Especially not after the way he’d
looked when she first saw him.

Oh,
he looked frightening enough, with his beard and unruly hair blood-spattered
and caked with mud. But there was hope. More than hope. Margo felt relieved; so
relieved that she gave in to her body’s demand and slumped down on the cool
grass.

“What’re
you doing?” His voice turned harsh.

Margo
tensed. “I’m drained. I’m going to rest a minute before I…”

“No
you’re not.” His once tender hands were now rough as he grabbed her arms and
pulled her upright. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

So
much for hope
,
she thought as she gathered her sagging strength and tried to straighten out of
his hold. He didn’t let go.

“No
need to get rough, Mr. Zanelli. I’m no threat to you.”

His
grip tightened, not enough to hurt but enough to make her aware of his sudden
wariness. His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “Do I know you?”

“Of
me. Dr. Margo Devaull. Vinnie told you I was coming.”

The
suspicion in his expression changed to concern. “What’s wrong with him? Is he
all right? Why does he need a doctor?”

Great.
Vinnie had lied. She eyed Zane’s muscled forearms and wondered what else Vinnie
had neglected to tell her. Was Zane violent? She was trained in self-defense,
but Zane was a big man; a strong man.

Best
thing to do was to keep cool. “He’s fine. He was going to come with me, but he
had to make a quick trip to Portland.”

“Come
with you? What’s up?” The lines of concern became a scowl.

Margo
pulled her arm out of his grasp. His concern was changing to confusion and she
guessed it would soon become anger. She took another step back. “I’m a
psychologist, Mr. Zanelli. Vinnie asked me to come and see you.” She held out
her hand to shake, but he didn’t take it. His jaw clenched.

Margo
lowered her arm and took a deep breath. She knew it was important to remain
calm. “Your brother’s under the impression I might be of some help to you. I
was informed you’d been told and agreed to see me.”

“Look,
lady. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t need help.”

She
didn’t resent the skepticism. No sign of emotion showed on his face. She
sensed, however, the inward struggle to remain so calm. She could hear it in
his voice; see it in the clamped set of his muscles. His blue eyes pierced hers
with a stare that she imagined would intimidate most. It served to pique her
interest. That bothered him too. His expression became curious, assessing.

“You
always make house calls?”

“My
specialty. I have a practice in the Bay Area.”

“You’ve
wasted your time. There’s nothing for you to do here.”

She
flashed her professional smile that was composed and a shade toward cool. “Your
brother said you’d discussed coming out of your self-imposed isolation and he
recommended you have help. He told me you’d agreed with him.”

“
He
mentioned it – not me. I said I’d think about it.”

“Have
you?”

“No.”

The
average person wouldn’t have noticed the slight flex of his jaw or the way the
cord in his neck tightened, but Margo’s clinical glance missed nothing. He
wasn’t going to admit he needed help. Nothing unusual there. Yet she sensed
he’d closed up a part of him. Was it in defense? Margo cast him a reassuring
glance. “Look, this must be sudden and awkward. I’m not going to push myself on
you. It has to be your decision to seek help. If you don’t want it, I’ll
leave.”

She
watched his shoulders relax their stiff pose. Her own tension eased. This was
going to be complicated. She hadn’t expected that, but she could deal with this
new set of circumstances. It required moving slowly, one step at a time. Her
smile warmed. “I have your supplies in the back of the Bronco. I also have some
literature you can glance at.”

Before
he could react, she spun on her heel and headed toward the front of the cabin.
She heard him following her. At the vehicle he reached around her and grasped
the door handle, pinning her against the sun-warmed metal and glass. Then he
paused, a second or two longer than necessary. His blue eyes stayed steady on
her face as if he wanted to study her reaction to his move.

Margo
stared back, aware of the power in him, the intelligence in his eyes. She knew
he meant to intimidate, but instead he’d secured her fascination. He didn’t
like that either.

Abruptly
he stepped back and yanked open the back door. “I’ll get the supplies.”

She
shrugged and stepped back. “Fine with me. I’m tired from that drive.”

The
steep road had been a trial, rutted from rain and studded with rocks and
debris. There were times when she’d scraped one side of the Bronco against the
mountain wall, while on the other side gravel spewed from under the tires to
tumble down the sheer cliffs. There were other times when the grade became so
steep she’d worried if she’d make it to the top. On the map it had looked like
fifteen miles of a black line. But reality was a different picture altogether.

Zane
hefted two boxes out of the Bronco. “Wait here.”

Margo
nodded while rubbing the stiffness from her arms. They felt cramped from the
death grip she’d had on the steering wheel, plus the hold she had kept on the
deer.

She
watched Zane set his boxes on the porch and return for the rest. He made
several trips until he was down to the last two. Margo decided she’d better
take action before he literally bundled her into the Bronco to be off. Quickly
she grabbed her purse and the pamphlets underneath.

“Look.
I realize you don’t think you need a psychologist, but since I came all the way
out here let me tell you about some of our programs.”

He
started to protest, but she raised her hand.

“Your
brother is concerned and frankly, at this point, I’m more worried about him
than you. You seem like you know what you’re doing. Vinnie is the one who is
confused. Why don’t you let me talk to you for say…” She glanced at her watch.
“Fifteen minutes. Just give me that much time, then I’ll be able to reassure
Vinnie.”