Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga #5)

She turned and looked at Cole over her shoulder.

His face turned three shades of red as he realized she was completely aware of the way he felt for her. Damn it! He couldn’t be the strong, silent type around a girl who could dissect your feelings with surgical precision. He moaned inwardly.

The perfect corner of her mouth curled a fraction of an inch. Her eyes never left his.

I’m so screwed. He rubbed the stubble he hadn’t bothered shaving off his face and tried to change the subject.

“What floor did they say she’s on?” he asked. He was trying to force himself to change his thoughts.

“Third,” Evan said, completely oblivious of the entire exchange between his sister and his friend. “She’s in room 301.”

They stepped into the elevator and stood watching the numbers climb with them.

“Are you nervous, Meg?” Evan asked.

“No. Should I be?”

“No, no.”

The doors opened and the boys followed Meg as she walked confidently to the room labeled 301. Sitting in the waiting room right across the way was Alik plopped on the floor with a little boy in his lap. Beside him sat Farrow, grinning from ear to ear at something Alik was saying. Creed was flipping through a men’s health magazine but looked up the moment the elevator chimed open.

Meg locked eyes with Creed and stared for a moment before a squeal of excitement forced her to look for its source. The sweetest smile was plastered over the face of an angelic little boy running to her. Meg caught him in midleap.

“Well, hello little monkey,” Meg laughed at the way the little boy wrapped his arms and legs around her, giving her a full-body hug.

He clung to her for a moment before pulling back and looking deeply into her dark eyes. A worried expression swept across his small brow. His two little hands reached up and held her cheeks softly. He leaned in and rested his soft forehead against hers. Instinctively, Meg closed her eyes and listened to her gift.

The little boy was pure love. He showed her how much he missed her. Images crisp and clear flashed before her mind’s eye of a middle-aged woman in a wheelchair crying quietly. She saw a man lift her frail body lovingly from her chair, lay her in bed and curl up beside her to warm her dead legs with his heat.

Meg saw from the little boy’s vantage the fear and worry the couple had for the children who had been gone for too long.

Then the little boy did something that completely surprised her. He reached behind her and touched the back of her head. Meg felt a warm glow right where her cold, still-wet hair clung.

“Danny?” She asked softly, not wanting to break his concentration, but still so curious about what he was doing to make her feel warmth with his small hand.

The little boy murmured something incoherent, but didn’t let go for a full minute. By the time he did, he pulled away and yawned deeply. Then he draped himself over her boney shoulder in an act of complete trust and love.

Then she heard him whisper exactly what she felt emanating from him. “I missed you so much, Meggie.”

“I’m back, little one. I’m back,” she cooed. Instinctively she held his small, toasty warm back and rocked his sleepy body back and forth. The rest of the room watched in amazement at the instant connection between the little boy and the damaged girl. But what made jaws drop was hearing the previously mute toddler speak English perfectly—not a hint of baby talk as he spoke his complete sentence.

Meg was so engrossed in the kindred spirit in her arms, she didn’t distinguish the other hospital sounds including that of Margo’s door opening. Her mother was doggedly working to wheel the chair out of her room but stopped in her tracks at the sight of her eldest child cradling her youngest, as if they were always meant to be.

Meg realized she was crying only when she felt Danny pull back and wipe her face dry with his little pudgy fingers. For the first time since her memory had been stolen, she felt as if she was where she belonged.





Chapter 17 Coydogs and Dark Dreams


They’d received a call from the vet who explained the surgical procedure he had to conduct to save Maze’s life. Apparently, there was a lot of internal bleeding he had to go in and clean up. Maze wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he was beginning to recover. That was the most they could have prayed for after all he’d been put through.

“Just keep this sweet animal away from whatever monster did this to him. I’m serious. He cannot take another beating like that. He’s not getting any younger and he already seems to have had a hard life with all the scars I’ve found on him.”

“Yes, sir.” Evan’s demeanor was serious.

“Have you studied coyotes, son?”

“Oh, yes sir.”

“How about German Shepherds?”

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