Chasing Shadows

chapter Fourteen

Mark nodded. “See that it stays that way.”

My brother grinned as he sat back in his chair, one arm casually draped over the back of it. “I’m getting the distinct feeling that you don’t think I’m good enough for fair Juliette,” he said.

“No one is good enough for Juliette,” I quipped. “It’s something the two of them have in common—neither thinks anyone is good enough for the other. It’s a sibling thing, I think.”

“So I’m supposed to think he’s not good enough for you?”

Mark snapped his fingers. “Damn. And we’ve been getting along so well.” He then tilted his head to the side, adding, “Of course, I’m kinda surprised by that, come to think of it.”

“Surprised by what, mate? That we get along?” Loch wondered.

“Yeah,” Mark replied. “First thing you wanted to do when you met me was kill me.”

I sighed. “Mark, that was something he couldn’t exactly help.”

“I know. But he controlled himself and sucked an entire pig dry instead of giving in to it,” he replied.

Lochlan sat forward. “I meant what I said Friday: I could not bear the thought of what hurting you would do to my sister. To know I would have been the cause of such pain was unthinkable.

“And I also meant it when I said I was happy for her that she has found you,” he went on. “All of us who are not bonded envy those who are, for it brings a peace to their souls that no words can describe. Despite that display she put on earlier, I have seen a change in my sister, a change for the better, and that’s because of you. It is clear to me that there is already a great deal of love between you, and I am not the sort of man who can hate someone who shows someone I care for such devotion.”

He shrugged then. “Besides, I have to believe that if you weren’t good enough for her, you would not be her bondmate. Thus it is not for me to decide.”

“In that case,” Mark said. “I’d like to thank you for caring about Saphrona enough not to kill me, and, well, for not killing me.”

“I’d like to thank you for that, too,” I said, shooting my brother a smile.

Lochlan nodded. “Truthfully, from what I’ve observed of you over the last couple of days, you really don’t seem a bad chap at all. We might well have been friends even had you not been my sister’s predestined love slave.”

Mark laughed and I could feel myself coloring with embarrassment.

“Change of subject,” Lochlan said abruptly, sitting back again. “Did either of you notice the coincidence between the name of our query and the name of the dragon lady’s species?”

I glanced at Mark, then back at Loch. “What about it? Don’t tell me you think she was lying?”

“Yeah, surely it’s just a coincidence,” Mark added. “I mean, Drake is a very common last name.”

Lochlan sighed and raked a hand over his face. “I know it is. I just… Maybe I was just thrown, both by the fact that the author isn’t just getting her information from a vampire but is one, and the fact that there are actually dragon shapeshifters in this world. Dragons are supposed to be a made-up cultural and literary construct.”

“According to human history, dear brother, so are we,” I said pointedly.

“Aye, but people have seen vampires, or else where would they get their stories from?”

“Same could be said about dragons, man,” Mark countered. “Since they pervade the cultural mythology of a number of Eastern cultures in Europe and Asia, those stories also had to come from somewhere.”

“I suppose you are right, brother,” Lochlan agreed. “I think another thing what’s got me off-kilter is that so many crazy things have happened ever since Father set himself on this insane quest to find Vivian Drake.”

I scoffed. “You think you’re off your axis? In the last four days, I’ve had a visit from the sister who hates me, met my bondmate and fallen in love, faced an attack on said bondmate, went to Ireland for less than a day to see a psychic who turned out to be the same one I met a hundred fifty years ago, had to ask the father I despise for his help, and suffered the loss of my barn and twenty-eight of the animals who lived in it.”

“Not to mention hanging out with flea-bitten mongrel shapeshifters and having incredible, mind-blowing sex,” Lochlan added.

I leaned over and punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” my brother said, rubbing his arm. “Haven’t you beaten on me enough for today?”

“You’ve got no one to blame but yourself for that beating, Loch,” I reminded him, standing and walking over to the broken window. “You did ask for it.”

“Aye, that I did,” he conceded. “And all for a good cause. Had you let loose like that on Mark or Juliette, you’d never have forgiven yourself.”

I looked at him over my shoulder. “I can barely forgive myself for doing it to you. I could have killed you, Loch.”

“But you didn’t, and that’s what matters. So in the end, no real harm done.”

I nodded mutely and turned my attention out the window, watching Parks and his two associates as they carefully picked their way through the ruin of my barn. They were covered in what looked like hazmat suits, and I supposed I could understand why. They didn’t know yet what had started the fire, so the suits would protect them from any chemical residue that lingered. Plus, were they to encounter the bodies of the animals, they would not get their remains on them.

“When you fed on Belinda the other day,” I said slowly, “I was sad to lose her. But this? This feels different. This doesn’t just make me sad, it makes me angry.”

Mark came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me as Lochlan said, “That is because your Belinda was a sacrifice. This was a crime.”

“It was a crime,” I agreed. “I mean, I feel violated and angry and afraid. Somebody came here and destroyed my property. They threatened my home and have all but destroyed my livelihood. Why did they have to do that? Why couldn’t they have released all the animals? Had they just burned down the barn, I’d be mad, sure, but I don’t think I’d be so filled with rage, with a desire to hunt the bastard down and kill him with my bare hands, or to sink my teeth into his neck and drain him dry. That I’ve been driven to such a mindset is frightening, and that is a violation, too. They’ve essentially destroyed who I am with the lighting of a single match.”

“Baby, don’t say that,” Mark said, kissing my temple. “They’ve only destroyed you if you let them.”

“Mark,” I said, turning around in his arms. “I could have killed that firefighter this morning—I wanted to. And had Lochlan not come in when he did, there is a very real chance I could have killed you and your sister, too. I haven’t felt a bloodlust this strong since I first learned how Diarmid had really felt about my mother.”

I stepped away from him, raking a hand through my hair before turning to face him again. “I have killed before. I may well kill again. As you clearly saw this morning, I am capable of unspeakable violence. The truth is, no matter how much I try to hide it or deny it, I am and will always be part vampire.”

“I’ve killed people, too,” Mark told me solemnly. “As a sniper I killed fifty-seven people in eleven years, including ten women and three children. That was by myself—I can’t even tell you how much blood is on my hands from the lives I took while out with my unit. I have been angry enough to want to cause physical harm to others, and have done so. I still have nightmares every once in a while about the violence I saw and the violence I took part in. So really, we’re not so different, you and I.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Both of us killers haunted by our past.”



*****



Parks and his team eventually finished up their search. They had bagged up several items of apparent interest and carried them to their SUV, and having noticed upon their arrival Lochlan’s vehicle in the driveway, the arson investigator came to the door and asked to speak to us. I introduced my brother as Dr. Lochlan Mackenna, another title which seemed to impress the human (I was a doctor as well, but apparently holding a D.V.M. wasn’t as impressive as an M.D.). He asked Lochlan a lot of the same questions he had asked Mark, Juliette, and I earlier that morning, and Loch confirmed our trip to Ireland to see our “ill family friend,” and the time we had arrived back in the States. He also, without blinking, confirmed that we’d sold him a pig on Friday, which he said he’d sent to a friend to have slaughtered for his winter stock of meat. Parks then asked about the broken window, and I admitted that I’d gotten upset and thrown a frying pan.

The lieutenant then told me he’d taken the liberty of calling a clean-up service for me. They would need two units, it seemed: one to take care of the animal remains, one to take care of the rest. I asked how soon they would arrive, because I didn’t want wild animals from the woods to come scavenging the carcasses, and he said that he’d arranged for someone to come in that afternoon. Despite the fact that I didn’t really care for the man, I was grateful that he’d taken care of it for me.

After Parks and his team left, Lochlan made his own departure, heading home most likely to sleep. When he was gone, Juliette came back downstairs.

“Thank goodness the leech is gone,” she muttered.

“Jules,” her brother admonished.

She looked at him. “What? He was freaking me out.”

“You know,” I said, not wanting to talk about Lochlan’s attraction to Juliette, “I’ve just realized that there’s actually quite a bit I have to do today. I need to call my insurance agent, I need to buy a new window, and I have to buy some horse feed to take over to Harry’s later.”

“And I need clothes,” Juliette added. “All my stuff got burned up in the fire.”

Mark looked over. “You can use my truck,” he said, handing her the keys.

“Juliette, make sure you save the receipts for anything you buy,” I told her. “My insurance can reimburse your purchases.”

She nodded. “I appreciate that,” she said, and after another trip upstairs to grab her purse, she soon left to go shopping for new clothes.

Mark asked me if I had a tape measure so we could measure the window. I pointed to the drawer against the wall where the window was, where I kept the most essential tools a person could have: a hammer, Philips and flathead screwdrivers, duct tape, a tape measure, a box of nails, and a box of push pins. While he went about measuring the window’s dimensions, I went to my office to call my insurance agent. After expressing the usual horrors and sorrows, he promised to do his best to get out to my place that afternoon so he could get pictures and talk to me about the equipment that was inside, so that he could figure out how much the company would pay out. He also asked for Lt. Parks’ number so he could request a copy of the fire department’s report on the blaze.

Mark and I spent the next couple of hours driving around to pick up the things we needed. At Lowe’s we got a window, plus a crowbar, longer nails, and the sealing caulk needed to properly remove the old window and install the new one. We then headed back over to Tractor Supply for more horse feed. Palmer was working again, and the sweet old man held me for a long moment after he heard the story about the barn.

After grabbing a bite to eat for lunch, we headed home again. I helped Mark install the new window, then told him I was going to take the feed down to Harry’s.

“You want me to come with?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No, I think I’d like to talk to Harry alone if that’s alright. Not that it matters overmuch, I don’t think, but I want to see if I can pick up on what you saw.”

Mark looked at me for a moment and then nodded. He said he had a few phone calls he wanted to make anyway, so after a long, lingering kiss, I pushed him away with a smile and climbed into the driver’s seat of my truck.

Down the road at the Mitchell place, I encountered his youngest son, Billy, in the barn.

“Hey there, Billy,” I said, climbing out of the truck. “Where’s your dad?”

He finished filling a water trough for my two yearlings, saying, “Him and Tom went to fix some fence posts. They should be back soon.”

The 13-year-old turned to me then, and expressed the same sentiments his brother had that morning.

“Thanks, Billy,” I said with a weak smile. “I appreciate that. And hey, why don’t you run off and do your other chores? I’ll take care of the horses.”

He nodded. “Alright, Ms. Caldwell. Be seeing you.”

The boy then headed off into the house. I went to my truck and dropped the tailgate, then started hauling in the bags of feed and stacking them by the stall Brego occupied. I’d just dropped the last one down when Harry and Tommy came into the barn on their own horses.

“Hey, Ms. Caldwell,” Tommy greeted me.

I nodded. “Tommy. Hey, Harry.”

The two dismounted and walked their horses into their stalls. Harry directed his son to put the post-hole digger away and then go ahead into the house to help Billy with the household chores.

“I’ll take care of Cracker’s saddle for you. Need to have a talk with Saphrona here,” he added.

Tommy nodded, and after putting the post-hole digger with the other equipment, he too retreated into the house. I pointed down to the bags of feed I’d brought in.

“This should do them a week, at least. If you need more, let me know,” I said.

Harry grunted as he lifted his horse’s saddle off and set it on a railing. He came out of the horse’s stall and walked into Cracker’s. “I told you that wasn’t necessary. I’m glad to help you.”

I leaned against the gate as he undid the straps of Cracker’s gear. “You also said that if I wanted to pay for the feed myself, that was fine,” I reminded him. “Harry, if you’re not going to take my money for sheltering the horses, I should at least pay for their food myself.”

“As you wish,” Harry mused, lifting the saddle off and setting it aside. “Be a shame for that feed to go to waste, seeing as you’ve already bought it.”

He leaned on the other side of the gate and looked at me. “How are you doing, hon?” he asked, repeating his question from earlier that morning.

I shrugged. “Okay, I suppose. Arson investigators were at the house again. They took some stuff, but I don’t know what they hope to gain by it. Some special clean-up crew is coming out to take care of the animal remains, and there’s another crew that’s supposed to come clean up the rest of it eventually. I’ve already reported the fire to my insurance agent, who will also be out sometime today to take pictures and get a list of what was in the barn so he can calculate the pay out. That is, of course, after I’m cleared of having started the fire myself, which we both know I didn’t do.”

He placed a hand on my arm in a comforting gesture. “Of course we do,” he said, then looked down and cleared his throat. “Listen, Saphrona, I’d like to ask you something.”

“What’s that, Harry?”

“How serious is it between you and that Singleton guy?”

My eyebrows went up. So Mark was right after all, I mused, sighing as I placed my hand on top of his. “Mark and I are in love, Harry.”

He looked at me. “How can you be so serious about a guy you just met?” he asked.

“I’ve known Mark a long time,” I countered, and I very much considered that to be true, given how long I had dreamed about him. “It’s not something we really talked about because he traveled so much with the Marines, but when he of all people answered that ad I put in the paper…that’s when it finally hit us.”

“A Marine, huh?” Harry mused. “Guess that’s why I can’t recall ever seeing him around before.”

He looked at me squarely then. “He makes you happy? Treats you good?”

I nodded, a small smile on my face. “He does Harry. And I do love him—I’ve waited a long time to love again.”

“So have I,” he replied, then smiled sheepishly. “Been hoping maybe I’d have it with you someday, but I guess the good Lord has other plans.”

“Hey,” I said, giving his hand a slight squeeze. “You’re a good man, Harry Mitchell—an attractive, honest, caring man, one whom I am honored to call my friend. I have no doubt that one of these days you will find someone who is right for you and for the boys. Don’t you give up hope, huh?”

He nodded and then smiled. “You staying to brush ‘em down or anything?” he asked, nodding toward my four horses.

I looked longingly at them. “I’d like to. Maybe I’ll come back later, if there’s time. But there’s a lot to do at the house, what with all kinds of strangers coming on my land. I feel like enough people I don’t know have been there, if you know what I mean.”

“That I do,” Harry agreed.

I backed up so he could come out of Cracker’s stall, and he walked with me out to my truck. After putting the tailgate back up, I climbed in the driver’s seat and he closed the door for me.

“You’re welcome to come down and see your horses anytime you want,” Harry said. “And since you aren’t likely to have a new barn up in the next day or two, I’ll see about making room in our loft for the hay in your field, when you’re ready to harvest. You know, seeing as you use my harvester anyway.”

I nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Harry,” I said, and started the engine.

“One more thing,” he said as I put the truck in gear. “You tell that man of yours I don’t care if he’s a Marine—he don’t treat you right he’s gonna have me to answer to.”

I laughed. “Harry, you have to take a number on that one. Our buddy Palmer at Tractor Supply already gave Mark the same warning.”

“Good. Means he’s outnumbered if it comes to a fight.”

I laughed again and backed down the driveway.

Back at the house, I noted the presence of the clean-up service. It was, apparently, a job for a Hazardous Materials disposal unit to come and remove the animal remains. Studiously avoiding the sight of the men and women working to sort through the burned-out wreck, I walked into the house through the back door. Soon after my return home my insurance agent arrived, and I recounted the last 36 hours for him, as well as compiled a list of the tools and other items of value that had been in the barn, including the animals.

After the insurance agent had gone, I retreated to my office, thinking that I might as well get some work done. I’m not sure, though, how long I sat in front of the computer without even turning it on before Mark came to find me.

He knelt beside me and put his arms around me, saying nothing, just giving me my space to think. Problem was…I couldn’t.

“I can’t think,” I said aloud. “I can’t seem to connect any one thought to another. I can’t seem to get past this feeling of numbness. I’m numb and I’m angry and I just…I can’t think. I don’t want to think, because then I will start thinking about how frightened the animals must have been, trapped in the barn with the fire, and the loft crashing down on them. I keep thinking that Angus, at least, ought to have gotten out, so why didn’t he?”

“We’ll figure this out, Saphrona,” Mark told me. “Whoever did this will be caught. We’ll build a new barn. We’ll get some more animals if you want them. I promise you, honey, we will get past this.”

I tilted my head so it was lying on top of his. “Nobody likes to feel like they’re not in control of their own life,” I said. “And that’s how I feel right now. Like my life isn’t even my own, that someone else is calling the shots. And that really makes me mad, but I’ve got nowhere and no one at whom to direct that anger. And I am afraid that what happened this morning will happen again if I can’t find some way of channeling it.”

I pulled away and stood, pacing away from him. “You know, it strikes me as a wise idea for you and your sister to get as far away from me as you possibly can, so you’re not caught up in the chaos. I don’t want you to regret answering that ad.”

Mark stood and walked over to me, taking me by the arms and giving me a little shake. “Saphrona, that’s enough. I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that—I could never regret making that phone call. I could never regret meeting you. We’re soulmates, remember?”

“But Mark, everything is such a mess now—I’m a mess. That which has not killed me doesn’t seem to be making me any stronger,” I said weakly.

“You know,” he said, drawing me to him and wrapping his arms around me. “My fellow Marine snipers and I have an unofficial motto we adopted: ‘That which does not kill me has never taken basic marksmanship.’”

I chuckled. “General Martok said that on an episode of Deep Space Nine.”

Mark seemed surprised by my knowledge of the Star Trek origin of the quote. “Still absolutely true, though.” After kissing my brow, he held me away from him. “Okay, how about this one? ‘That which does not kill me had better run damn fast.’”

I smiled. “That’s a good one, too. In fact, I think I rather like that one.”

As we were heading out of the office a moment later there was a knock on the back door. One of the clean-up crew had come to have me sign some forms. With a sigh, I took the clipboard he handed me and signed my name.

“By the way, ma’am,” the man said as he was stepping back down the stoop. “Your husband here said that there should be six cows, right?”

I glanced at Mark over my shoulder, standing behind me with an innocent expression on his face. I didn’t bother correcting the other man’s assumption, just turned back to him and said, “Yes, there should have been six cows, ten pigs, and twelve chickens.”

“Well, we only found five bodies that would fit the size of a cow. Don’t suppose you had a bull, did you?”

I nodded, a bright feeling stirring in my chest. It was possibly futile, but it was still a glimmer of hope.

“Yes, there was a bull,” I answered. “He had horns, small ones that I kept trimmed for safety reasons.”

“Well, at risk of sounding indelicate, none of the carcasses we found had horns, ma’am. Might be your bull broke himself out like the horses did. My suggestion would be to go searching these woods for him.”

I smiled slightly and nodded. “Thank you.”

He nodded and headed over to the large vehicle he and his crew had come in, and they left. But just moments after they had gone and Mark and I had turned back into the house, another truck came ambling up the driveway—two of them, in fact, for one carried a dumpster-like crate with the Waste Management symbol on the side, and the other what looked like a backhoe on its flatbed.

When the crew’s foreman came to have me sign some paperwork, I expressed my thanks for his getting there so soon.

“Well, Ms. Caldwell, my granddaddy had a farm,” he said, turning to watch as the backhoe, which had one of those clamshell scoops on one end, was being unloaded. “It’s a shame what happened here. Say, would it be too much trouble to get one of you to move that fine truck there, give us some room? I know it’s a nice, wide drive, but it would help.”

I nodded, and Mark went to retrieve the keys to my truck. “I’ll go park it in the front yard for now,” he said as he moved past me.

“And I’m gonna go look around for Angus,” I said, stepping down the stoop behind him as the foreman went to have a word with his crew.

Mark looked back at me and nodded, then climbed into my truck and started it, backing down the drive. I trotted across the driveway and headed into the woods, stopping a few feet in to sniff the air. The smell of the burned-out barn and animal carcasses still lingered, so I knew I was going to have to go deeper.

I looked all around me as I walked into the woods, looking for any sign that Angus had come this way. I was definitely subscribing to the theory that the horses had been set free before the fire had been started—otherwise, why hadn’t Angus gone off with them? The bull knew those horses very well, was even somewhat protective of them: I could recall more than one occasion in the years I’d had him that Angus had bellowed in protest when one of the horses acted frightened. But he hadn’t been with the horses when the Mitchell boys had found them and he hadn’t been in the ruin of the barn, which could only mean he’d escaped on his own.

As I roamed my eyes about I also sniffed the air every so often. The further I got away from the house, the clearer the air was, and the easier I could separate the different smells that assailed my nose. I could smell the trees, the leaves on the ground, small animals that roamed…and then I caught something else. It was faint and off to my left, but it was a smell that was familiar to me, and so I turned toward it and began to walk faster. The farther I walked the stronger the scent trail, and the more excited I became that one more of my animals had survived. Of course, I didn’t know what I would do with Angus seeing as I had no barn for him to sleep in, and I hated to impose on Harry more than I already was.

My sharpened hearing picked up an out of place noise up ahead, and I quickened my pace. In moments I came within sight of Angus, and the closer I came, the more of him I could see and smell. He’d been injured during his escape, though I could not tell from this distance how badly. And he was mad—this I knew from the wild, wide-eyed look he turned to me when he finally heard me, and the restless stamping of his feet. I stopped immediately but this did not appease the bull; he snorted loudly and thundered toward me. But I knew better than to run. I stayed my ground until he was almost near, and then pivoted out of his way and spun to face him.

Angus came up short and turned around, coming at me again with his head down low in the charge position. Once again I sidestepped and turned out of his path, and though I knew he was injured I was actually feeling kind of proud of the big brute. He’d lived through hell and hurt himself in the process of his escape, had spent the night alone in unfamiliar surroundings, and still he had enough stamina to fight what he perceived to be an enemy. As soon as I wore him out enough to get close, I was going to give him a great big hug.

I felt like a bullfighter in an arena, waiting for Angus to charge and then spinning out of the way in the nick of time again and again, but eventually he tired. When at last he stood still, his chest heaving with exertion, I held my hands casually at my sides as I approached him and spoke with my voice low and soothing. Given enough time, I knew that Angus would remember me, and that some of his fear and anger would subside. Coming up to his side, I could now see where and how he’d been injured—some piece of the barn must have fallen and seared his right flank, leaving a horrible looking burn that was now scabbed over in places. With a hand laid gently on his back, I continued to speak softly as I leaned close to sniff it, detecting what I had suspected I would find: the wound was infected. When I got him to a barn, I was going to have to soften up the scabbed parts enough to remove all of the seared flesh before I could clean it properly.

Anger shot through me again as I evaluated Angus’ burn, then slowly checked him over from back to front for any other injuries. He had minor cuts on his front legs and chest from his mad dash through the woods, and a cut on his forehead just below his horns, likely from when he had broken through the gate to his stall. I held onto his halter and stroked his nose like I had done countless times before, reassuring the bull that he was okay and no longer had anything to fear. After several minutes of this, his wide, frightened eyes relaxed, his breathing slowed to normal, and I felt secure enough to start guiding him home.

When we drew closer to the house Angus grew agitated again, but thankfully he didn’t fight me as I led him out of the woods and past the burned-out barn. I guided him through the small paddock and over to the first pasture, and was securing the gate behind him when I was joined by Mark.

“I see you found him,” he said, leaning against the railing as I was. “How’s he doing?”

“He was angry and frightened, naturally. I had to dance with him a little, but all is well,” I replied.

“What do you mean dance with him? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

I glanced over. “He charged a bunch of times, but Angus never touched me. I’m fine. Remember, I’m a lot faster than he is. I just had to wear him out before I could even get close to him. He’s got a nasty burn on his right flank that needs to be cleaned and medicated, and he’s in desperate need of water, I suspect. But other than that I think he’ll be okay.”

Mark reached his arm over to place it around my shoulders. “A little bit more good news for you. I’m glad he made it.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder as I asked, “How’s the clean up coming? I see they’ve actually managed to clear quite a bit.”

“Yeah. Foreman thinks they might just get it all in one load, seeing as the barn wasn’t near as big as the house.” He drew a breath. “Your, uh, dad called again. Said he was calling to make sure you were all right, and wanted to make sure it was okay if he came by.”

I scoffed. “I’m surprised. Usually Diarmid just does whatever the hell he wants.”

“I gathered that myself,” Mark mused. “I told him how you were out looking for Angus and that I could not speak for you, but you hadn’t said anything about him not being welcome when Juliette told you earlier he was planning to come by, so I could only assume you were okay with it.”

“Like I said, he usually does whatever he wants. I figured there was no point in telling him to stay away.”

With a sigh, I turned around and started back toward the house. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to call Harry and see if he’s got room for Angus, because I don’t know what else to do with him; once that burn of his is cleaned and dressed it won’t be good for him to be outside, or I’d leave him where he is.”

“I’ve been wondering, did you see him when you went over there earlier?” Mark asked as we were passing the workers.

I nodded. “Yeah. He confirmed your suspicions, asking how serious we were and confessing that he’d have liked to have something with me. But he is pleased that I am happy, and he threw his hat in with Palmer—said if you’re not good to me, you’ve got him to answer to.”

Mark laughed. “I have been duly warned,” he said with a smile, opening the back door for me.

In the kitchen I noticed four glasses in the sink, and turned a curious eye over to Mark. “What’s this?”

He shrugged. “The guys out there took a break, and I offered them some water.”

“Oh. It was good of you to be so polite in my absence,” I said with a smile, walking over to the phone on the wall. I dialed Harry’s house and got Billy, who had to put the phone down and go out to the barn to fetch his dad.

“Hey darlin,’ what’s up?” he said when he came on the line.

I had to grin. Apparently having his hopes of being with me dashed hadn’t dampened his spirits too much, for which I was glad. “Harry, when are you going to invest in a cordless phone?”

Harry laughed. “When I darn well feel like it,” he shot back genially. “Now, I already seen your pretty face twice today. To what do I owe this honor?”

“Guess what? Angus busted out of the barn before it collapsed. I didn’t know until the one crew came to pick up the animal remains, and I found him out in the woods.”

“You alright? He didn’t put up too much of a fight, I hope?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“He was agitated, naturally. Had to practice my bullfighting skills to wear him out some, ‘cause once he saw me he did charge a time or two. But he missed, I promise. Angus, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well,” I told him, and went on to explain the bull’s injuries.

“That burn sounds nasty. Good thing you keep your veterinary stuff in your house, or you’d have nothing to treat him with.”

“My thought exactly.”

“Now I’m supposing your purpose for calling is to see if I’ve got any more vacancies in the Barn Animal Inn?” Harry asked jokingly.

“Harry, I hate to ask you when you’re already doing so much for me,” I said. “But you know as well as I that I haven’t anywhere else to take him.”

I heard him sigh. “I know, sweetheart, I know. And of course you can bring him down here. Good thing I keep only the two horses, the pig, and some chickens.”

“Thank you, Harry. I cannot thank you enough for your generosity,” I told him, my tone full of sincerity.

“Saphrona, I’ve told you time and again, if there’s ever anything you need, all you have to do is ask. That’s what friends do for each other,” Harry said firmly.

I felt myself smile, and wished he could have seen it. “You’re just about the best friend a girl could have, Harry Mitchell. You’re going to make some woman a damn fine husband someday.”

Harry chuckled over the phone line. “From your lips to God’s ears, sweetheart.”