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Authors: MJ Platt

Somewhere Montana (5 page)

BOOK: Somewhere Montana
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How was she to get through her enforced stay there? Callum had made it known in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t be leaving really soon. Her money was not available to her. It’s a wonder he hadn’t taken her clothes, too. Or had he? The nightgown she was wearing definitely wasn’t hers.

She needed to use the bathroom. Could she make it by herself without another disaster? She had to, if only to prove to him she didn’t need to depend on him. She would never again let herself feel she was a burden, to him or anyone else.

Carefully she hitched onto her side and pushed upright to sit on the edge of the bed, her feet touching the floor. The dizziness and pain attacked in waves. She felt the nausea rise in her stomach like the tide coming in to San Francisco Bay.

It took three attempts before she could stand braced against the bed, her hand on the back of the chair Mac had left beside the bed. She looked at the bathroom door. It couldn’t be more than ten feet away. But in her weakened state it felt more like a hundred. Could she push the chair in front of her like a walker? She knew she couldn’t lift it to move it.

She took a small step and wanted to scream. Placing weight on her left foot caused such pain in her knee it felt like it would break through the skin. She had to stop, as sweat was breaking out on her forehead, her legs were shaking, and her hands were trembling. Stopping and waiting for the pain to abate, she reassessed how she could proceed.

Maybe she could use the chair better by placing both hands on it and leaning on it as she hopped on her right foot, not bearing any weight on the left. It was worth a try. What could go wrong? But when she attempted to put weight on her arms, her left shoulder let her know in no uncertain terms it was the wrong idea. Unbalanced, she had to quickly place her left foot down, jarring the knee. The pain was so severe she thought she would pass out.

Now what was she to do? She couldn’t go forward to the bathroom or back to the bed. Well, nothing was going to get the best of Sage Burnett! She would get to the bathroom even if she had to crawl. Leaning on the back of the chair with her right hand, she would use it as a cane and only step lightly with the left foot. But when she tried it, it turned into a disaster. The chair tipped back onto its back legs and slid across the polished wood floor, crashing down to the floor.

“What do you think you are doing, young lady?” inquired Little Mouse, pushing the door open, a breakfast tray balanced in her hands. Sage looked toward the bathroom then back at the older woman. “And you were going to try it alone. Think you’d have any better luck than last night? Yes, Mac told us. All of it. Let me set this down and I’ll give you a hand.”

Sage blushed and looked down at her trembling hands. Had he also told them what a wimp she was that he had to hold her during the night? She felt so safe in his arms she had been able to relax and sleep soundly. Evidently soundly enough he didn’t wake her when he left her bed. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to face him too soon.

Little Mouse assisted her to the bathroom, Sage leaning heavily on her. For having such a slight build, the older woman was surprisingly strong. Sage looked with longing at the shower.

“Not for a while, yet,” said Little Mouse, reading her correctly. “We don’t need you falling in there and cracking your head open to go with everything else. Back to bed with you. After you eat, you get another pain pill. Once you’re reasonably comfortable, I’ll set you up with a sponge bath. The men are out checking the cattle and horses. They won’t be back in till lunch time.”

“I’ll be able to come down for lunch,” Sage decided.

“No, you’ll be staying in bed. We’ll be keeping the hot packs to that knee most of the day.”

“You shouldn’t be running up and down stairs so often just for me.”

“No problem. Helps me keep my girlish figure. Now eat that oatmeal before it gets cold.”

 

* * * *

 

A blast of chilly air ushered Mac and Two Feathers into the kitchen, their noses and ears red from the cold. Little Mouse set their lunches on the table and urged them to eat while it was hot.

“She’ll still be there when you’re done,” she said, looking at Mac. She filled them in on how Sage’s morning had been. Mac excused himself as soon as he finished eating, saying he would see if she needed anything since he was taking up the sling for her arm.

He heard Little Mouse and Two Feathers’ conversation before he was out of eavesdropping range.

“That boy has got it worse than the Hereford bulls at the first green-up of spring,” stated Little Mouse.

“Now, you just leave that boy alone. He’s found what he needs in his life. So has she. Let’s sit back and see how long it takes for them to get on the same page,” admonished Two Feathers.

Mac stood in the doorway, crushing the sling in his long fingers. Sage laid on the bed, wearing a sky blue, satiny gown, heavy enough not to reveal anything, yet clinging in enough places to hint at what was underneath. His body responded accordingly. Since that had been his constant condition throughout the previous night, nothing was new there. That part was working fine.

He stepped away from the door and leaned against the wall. He had to shift gears and get his brain in control. There were only so many cold showers a man could stand. She was going to be with them as long as it took. Until the mess she was in was settled, he couldn’t be looking at the long term.

When he had talked his libido back to normal, he entered her room with what he presumed was a smile plastered on his face. “Hi,” he said softly, worry evident in the tone.

“Hi, yourself. The cattle and horses okay?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No. I was just lying here enjoying the peace and quiet, deciding whether or not I wanted to practice deep knee bends.”

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere. I brought the sling for your arm. Ease the pull on the shoulder.” He tested the hot pack. “You need a new one. This one is cool.”

“Can we leave it off for a while? I’m beginning to feel parboiled.”

“Well, the swelling has gone down quite a bit. We can try leaving it off till later this afternoon. Providing you still keep your knee up. Ready to sit so I can put on the sling?” He raised her to a sitting position with only minor complaint on her part. She wrapped her right arm around her waist, her hand bracing her side and she winced. “You take anything for pain yet today?” he asked, putting on the sling and adjusting it in place.

“After breakfast, about eight thirty.”

“You slept that long? Good. Then at four thirty you get another dose.”

“Not if I don’t need it.”

“If you were in the hospital where you belong, you’d be getting them every eight hours on the dot. The same will hold true here.”

“Who made you dictator?”

“You did, by crashing on my mountain. Speaking of which, I’m going up to the plane this afternoon. See if I can find the rescue beacon and shut it off. We don’t need an unwanted mob swarming over the mountain.”

“It’s not there.”

“How do you know?”

“I tossed it out somewhere over Razorback Mountain in British Columbia. I didn’t dare travel too far north before turning back.”

“So you have a rescue team out there risking their lives for a little black box?”

“Maybe they couldn’t leave yet. They might have been hit with the same storm we did. It came in from that direction. Tatlayoko Lake is the nearest town. They have a small airfield there from which they could launch helicopters and small planes. It seems the likely staging point. Do you think we can stop them? I know the general store has phone service. It’s a real small town.”

“How do you know the area so well?”

“I flew in there last summer and camped on the lake. Did some day hikes in the area. Sorry, I don’t know the phone number for the store.”

“I’ll see if I can raise someone up there. I’ll be right back.” He headed out of the room muttering, “Talk about trouble with a capital T.”

Mac contacted long distance phone inquiry and was put through to the general store.  After being connected to the man in charge, he explained about why there was no plane, only the rescue beacon and nobody needed to risk life and limb to find it.

It wasn’t long before he returned.

“They hadn’t left yet. Still clearing the runway at the airport. Talked with a Sgt. Drisko of the RCMP. He remembered you. What did you get into while you were there?”

“I went to a local supper and dance at the town hall.”

“Well, I explained the situation and he was quite understanding about it. Said he’d keep an eye out for Marcos, in case he should head up that way for any reason. I’ve got to go out and check fence. Make sure the animals haven’t pushed any down. Will you be all right?”

“I made out fine this morning. How about I sit up in the chair for a while?”

“Not today. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

“Nothing good for me, I’ll bet,” she grumbled at his back as he left the room.

Thankfully she couldn’t see the mischievous grin on his face.

Chapter Five

Sage stood in front of the picture window in the living room, looking across the fields. The drifted snow laid in undulating ridges like whitecaps on a storm tossed sea. Two weeks had passed and she was no closer to moving on. She chafed at the brace Two Feathers made her wear. Callum had found the one his mother had used after her knee surgery.

She remembered her first attempt to negotiate the stairs. Callum had backed down them in front of her, insisting she hold onto the banister with both hands. The least falter in her step, he reached for her, the concern in his eyes deeply seated.

He had been firm about her using his grandmother’s cane. To the point of it sounding like a command. Of course, as a major in the Marines, he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question. Sage understood that. But she was a different entity. She was used to making her own decisions, not depending on anyone else. Callum telling her what she could and couldn’t do had caused Sage to be snarky with him.

She stared at the mountain only barely visible to her left, what she considered her mountain. Her refuge. But she couldn’t go there. The plane wreckage, now buried in snow, worried her. Was there a tracking device on it? She hadn’t heard anything from Marcos. Could she be safe here? Would those who were taking care of her be safe?

Her next thought concerned the phone call she had yet to make to her father. Callum said he would be with her when she made it tonight. It couldn’t be put off any longer. What would his reaction be? What would be his main consideration? The plane or her? She was willing to bet it would be the plane. What would her mother say? Sage could picture the anger and doubt on her face as she chastised Sage for upsetting her father.

No sense dwelling on any of that. Right now it was out of her control. She needed to concentrate on making progress day to day. Watch the others to discern their routines. See how she could plan her disappearance. But did she really want to leave? Seeing Callum again only reinforced her love for him. Everyone else called him Mac. But to her, he would always be her Callum.

She quickly squashed that idea. No way could Callum love her now. No man would. Marcos had made sure of that. Best to stick with her original plan. Disappear from everyone’s life. Find a place to call her own where no one knew her or could find her.

Where could she go? The North Pole came to mind. Bad idea. She would have to deal with Santa and his elves. More planning was necessary.

Enough was enough. Her eyes veered toward the main barn and the attached arena. She knew Callum was working some of the young stock there. How she would like to sneak out to watch him. She loved the way he sat a horse, like he was one with the animal. He possessed ultimate control without seeming to do anything. The animal obeyed his imperceptible commands as though eager to please the human.

He would be angry if she went out there. He had forbidden her to set foot outside the house without him. Even though the roads and areas in front of the house, barns and bunkhouse had been plowed. There were patches of ice ready to upend the unwary.

Instead she headed for the kitchen. Maybe Little Mouse would let her help with the cooking and cleaning. At least she would have someone to talk to. She was tired of her own company. She realized wherever she disappeared to, she would be alone. No developing a close friendship with anyone. People asked too many questions. And definitely no relationship with a member of the opposite sex. Derek had shown her what men would think of her.

She ran her finger over the raised line on her face. Two Feathers was pleased with the way it was healing. Little Mouse had promised to mix a balm Sage could rub into it to help keep the scarring to a minimum. Callum was using it on his. She wanted to ask him how he got the injury, but was afraid he would be angry with her.

Turning from the window, she spied the picture of Callum in his Marine uniform. She limped over to stand in front of it and run her finger over his face. Someone had once said ‘War is hell’. What hell had he been through? He was more reserved than she remembered. Yet he was still as protective of her, if not to a greater degree. Why?

 

* * * *

 

Mac worked with the two-year-old gelding on the long lines. It was quiet in the indoor arena. Only the steady beat of the horse’s hooves and an occasional snort from the chestnut could be heard. The horse had a spotted blanket over his rump, the marking
s
of an Appaloosa. Everything was going smoothly, which allowed Mac’s mind to wander. It inevitably led to Sage.

It was as if looking at her reawakened a missing piece of himself—a piece he hadn’t even realized he was missing until she showed up. He wanted to keep her there with him to keep her safe. But how was he to accomplish it? In two weeks he had a survival camp to run. With her being more mobile, what was to keep her from leaving while his back was turned?

No way could she get at her money in his safe. Would she be tempted to try to leave without it? He needed to find a way to keep her there. A job that would be necessary for the running of the camp. The first order of business had to be supporting her tonight when she called her parents. He certainly didn’t understand her family dynamics. Maybe he would have a better grasp of it after the phone call.

“Mac, you working with that horse, or is he training himself? You better get your head back in the game or you’re going to have some bad habits to correct,” stated Two Feathers, leaning on the fence. That snapped Mac back to the present in time to keep him from being run over by the horse.

For the next half hour, he worked the animal to correct what had gone wrong in the elapsed time he had been brooding over the problem of Sage.

As Mac brushed down the gelding, his mind veered back to Sage. Would she be willing to take over the office while he was out with the students? Help ready the cabins? Three cabins should do it. Only five men signed up. He’d put the truck driver from PA and the ranger from Yellowstone Park together. Both were outdoor types. Maybe the CPA from AZ and the bartender from FL would work well together. That left the high-priced lawyer with the high-profile clientele from San Francisco. He’d probably want to be alone. He probably would come with a briefcase full of work.

Would Sage be strong enough to do the physical work? Not that it was back breaking. She’d never admit it if she couldn’t. He scowled. But he had to do something to keep her too busy to develop a plan to leave.

Who was this Marcos Diego anyway? What was he? Mac knew a way to find out and that plan would be set in motion as soon as he got back to the house.

After helping with the evening feeding in the main barn, he left the men to care for the rest and load the sled with bales of hay to go out to the horses and cattle in the outlying pastures in the morning. A smile played about the corners of his mouth when he thought about seeing Sage in the next few minutes. Would she be as happy to see him? Life had left them both scarred, inside as well as out. And he had done his share of inflicting some of hers. Could he rectify it? Hopefully there was a way.

Mac entered the kitchen. He spotted Sage standing by the stove stirring a large pot. She looked comfortable, content, nothing out of the ordinary in her expression. Had she reconciled herself to staying? He could only hope. If he could get the information he needed, maybe he could ensure her safety.

“Two Feathers will be in shortly,” he said, hanging his coat and hat on the rack by the door. “I’ve got a couple things to take care of in the office. How soon till supper?”

“About ten minutes,” Little Mouse answered. “As soon as the biscuits come out of the oven. And don’t even think about scolding Sage. It’s time she started exercising that leg more.”

Mac quirked an eyebrow at her. Looking at Sage, he would describe her expression as smug. Fine. He would go along with the increased activity, but he would make darn sure she didn’t overexert herself. What he had thought of to keep her here might work out after all.

Mac retreated, but not before he noticed a thoughtful look from Sage. He heard the whispered ‘thank you’ from Sage to Little Mouse as he exited the kitchen.

A few minutes later he sat at his desk, rubbing his forehead and staring at the phone number he had brought up on his rolodex. Would it be right to ask Stewart’s help? If anyone could put together the info needed, it would be him. Mac pulled up the memory of the happy-go-lucky PFC in his recon unit. Until the day they got caught in an enemy crossfire in a village in Iraq. It had been nip and tuck getting Stew out alive. His injuries were bad enough to give him a medical discharge. But Stew refused to leave. His electronics technology rewarded him with a desk job at Camp Pendleton. And he proved the Marines belief in him by being the best in his position. With a sigh, Mac tapped the number into his phone. It was answered on the second ring.

“Corporal Compton,” was the succinct response.

“Hey, Stew. It’s Mac. Congratulations on your promotion. When did that come through?”

“Mac! I mean Major MacLain.”

“Just Mac will do.”

“Haven’t heard from you in four months. Not since the accident in Stan. Didn’t know if you made it or not. Where are you? How are you?”

“I’m home. Six month of medical leave. I’m doing okay.” It came out raspy. Mac closed his eyes, trying to ward off the memory of that
accident
. He’d lost too many good men and it had landed him in the hospital, too. He could still hear the screams of the severely wounded, see the blood, and smell the death that had surrounded him.

“Sorry, Mac.”

“How’s everything on the home front? Sorry I couldn’t get back for your wedding.” Mac tried to lighten the conversation, get away from the memories.

“All’s good.” Stew said. “Maggie’s pregnant. Two months. She told me the night I came home with my corporal stripes. Boy, was that a night to remember!”

His happiness came through loud and clear. “Seems double congratulations are in order.”

“Yeah. So, to what do I owe this call? It isn’t strictly social or you wouldn’t be calling me at work.”

“I need you to do a background check on a Marcos Diego. Start in San Francisco. That’s where he is now. Dig as deep as you can. Be his second skin,” snapped Mac. “I want to know even his birth weight, if he was born of human parents. It wouldn’t hurt if the info came through ASAP.”

“You want me to use government equipment to hunt down some badass that’s making you squirrelly. It could put my neck in a noose.”

“Won’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, but you were in Stan hunting bad guys.”

“This guy is worse than any we were hunting over there. He did a slash and gash on a close friend of mine.”

“This friend wouldn’t happen to be of the female persuasion, would it?”

“Doesn’t make any difference. Just get me what you can on him,” Mac smoothly ended the conversation. He tossed the phone on the desk and, leaning back in his chair, wiped his hands down over his face. Step one done. He wondered what kind of dirt Stew would dig up. Sage had called Marcos a sleaze. How low a low-life would he turn out to be? Slowly Mac rose from his chair and headed for the kitchen. Whatever he found out, he would keep it from Sage for now.

 

* * * *

 

After supper, Mac led Sage into the living room, seated her on the couch, and made her put her legs up. He sat beside her, pushed up her pant
s
leg, and removed the knee brace. When he placed his hand over the injured joint she shivered. Her body responded to his slightest touch. She imagined what it would be like if his hand drifted north.
Let’s not go there!

“Did that hurt?” asked Mac, frown lines appearing between his brows. “It’s still a bit swollen and warm. How much have you been on it today? What have you been doing?”

“A little of this and that,” she answered. “Little Mouse let me help with cooking and some cleaning. She said I needed more exercise. You heard her.” His lips firmed and his frown deepened. “I wasn’t hauling in wood or running up and down stairs or scrubbing floors on my hands and knees.”

“I didn’t expect you were,” Mac answered calmly. “It’s time to start strengthening it and probably start weaning you off the brace. I’ll check with Two Feathers.”

“Thank you.”

“How about while you’re resting you make that call to your father,” he bid her, handing her the phone. “You said you wanted to do it tonight.”

“I suppose so,” said Sage with a moue of dissatisfaction. “You realize this is going to put me lower than rock bottom in his estimation.”

“It’s not your fault the plane crashed.”

“To him? Yes it will be. In his opinion, I can do nothing right.”

Mac hit the button to put the phone on speaker. “Maybe I can help defuse the situation. I promise not to open my mouth unless necessary.”

Slowly Sage dialed, but disconnected before she tapped in the final number. She stared across the room, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, hands clutching the receiver so tightly her knuckles were white. Mac laid his hand over hers, squeezing gently, staring intently until her eyes met his. His message that everything would be all right, that he was there to support her, steadied her trembling hands. She punched in the numbers quickly.

BOOK: Somewhere Montana
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