Touching the Moon Page 3

He found her Saturday, after Saturday, after Saturday.

  5

  September opened under a cloud.

  A group of high school kids hit a dog while cruising, and Julie couldn’t save it. She was called out to help with a late-season breech birth, but the cow had died before she got there. She had saved the calf, barely, but needed to butcher the mother to do so.

  By Saturday, she didn’t even know if she had the strength or stamina to go for her weekly hike. She debated long and hard, but eventually hit the trail, although much later than usual.

  No wolf.

  Her disappointment was a bitter thing and she wallowed in self-pity as she hiked. She entered the clearing by the waterfall and scanned the tree line.

  Still no wolf.

  “Big Boy,” she called. Silence.

  She dropped her gear and laid out her blanket, then opted to go poke around the rocks and boulders by the waterfall.

  “Hello,” said a masculine voice behind her.

  She was so startled that she fell. Badly. Not only did she end up in the water, but she managed to wedge her ankle tightly between two very stalwart rocks. She screamed in pain as the momentum of her fall tried to separate her foot from the rest of her. She lay there, wet, bruised and immobile, the cold water soaking her clothes and chilling her to the core.

  “Are you okay?”

  She tried to focus on the voice. It came from above.

  She shook her head from side to side and tried to get up. A firm hand held her in place. “Not so fast. Let’s make sure that you can actually get up before you do so.”

  She found herself looking into the jet black eyes of a giant Dakota Sioux. He was frowning at her, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. “Did you hit your head?”

  “No. Just everything else,” she said, her voice strained as she grappled with the pain.

  “What hurts?”

  “My ankle.”

  The Native American worked at the stones and freed her ankle, then helped her up off of the rocks. “That your blanket?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m just going to pick you up and carry you to it, okay?”

  “Let me walk,” she said, her eyes glancing up at him then dropping down swiftly. The man looked as if he were chiseled out of stone and was just as cold and unforgiving.

  “You should test your feet on flat ground, not here.”

  She stared at him with uncertainty.

  “With your permission?” he asked, and without waiting for a response, he scooped her up and carted her back to her blanket. He set her feet down gently.

  “Does the ankle bear weight?”

  Julie shook her head to the negative.

  “I am very sorry to have frightened you so badly. I was surprised to see someone else in what I thought was my super-secret fishing hole.”

  Julie sat down and unlaced her hiking boot. “I don’t think that it’s broken. Thank goodness I purchased the ankle support boots. But…” She scanned the tree line. Where was her wolf?

  “Why don’t we put your ankle in water? The chill will keep the swelling down. I’ll carry you.”

  She looked up at him. He was a full foot taller than she and absolutely massive. She swallowed. “Let me try to walk.”

  She took two painful steps and paused, wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead. The pain was excruciating. She scanned the tree line.

  “I would help you if you would allow it,” he said softly.

  She looked back at him while she wrestled internally with the sharp stabs of pain. She really didn’t have much of a choice. She took a ragged breath and nodded mutely. He stepped toward her and lifted her up into his arms as if she were weightless.

  “Let’s get you back to water.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He just nodded.

  “I don’t know your name.”

  “Gray Walker.”

  “I’m Julie Hastings.”

  He set her down by the stream and deepened a little pool by scooping out some silt and sand and gently placed her foot into the icy water. She gasped, gritted her teeth, then turned away from him, her face contorted in agony.

  “You need to… power through.”

  She pulled her foot from the stream. “I can’t. It hurts too much.”

  He placed his hand on her knee and ran the length of her shin with increasing pressure until her ankle and foot were in the water again.

  “Trust me.”

  She shook her head to the negative, and scanned the tree line. “What are you looking for, Julie Hastings?”

  She looked up at him in confusion.

  “Are you expecting someone?”

  “My wolf.”

  “Your wolf?”

  “He’s a ferocious beast,” she said, her jaws still locked as she tried to control her pain. “Very protective. He’d tear you apart in less than a nanosecond if you hurt me.”

  “I am forewarned.”

  “He’s big, feral, with a huge head and massive jaws.”

  “I get the picture.”

  “He won’t let anyone come within ten feet of me…” her voice trailed off, ever conscious of Gray’s hand upon her ankle. “Unless…”

  “Unless?” he said helpfully.

  “Unless… he knew I wouldn’t be harmed.”

  “Well, we seem to have a very perceptive and intuitive wolf. He is not making an attempt on my life. He knows you are safe.”

  She nodded stiffly.

  “How about if I catch us a couple of trout and cook them up for lunch?”

  He released her ankle and stood. She shivered and released a pent up breath.

  “Does the water chill you?”

  “It’s the pain,” she lied.

  He held her eyes for just a second too long, long enough to make her uncomfortable with her untruth, then switched the subject. “How did you befriend your wolf?”

  “I’m a vet. He was brought to me injured. I nursed him back to health.”

  “He’s tame?”

  “Well, he was wild when I met him, but he’s domesticated now.”

  “Women have that affect on men, I’m told.”

  She almost smiled. “He found me hiking one day after he had healed. In fact, he always finds me when I’m in the woods. It’s odd not to see him.”

  Gray cast his line and was rewarded with a strike. He reeled in the fish in a furious spray of water. “Do you always hike at the same day and time?”

  “More or less, but today, I’m a little later than usual.” She test-wiggled her ankle and was rewarded with a shooting stab of pain. She grunted softly. “Perhaps he thought I wouldn’t hike today.”

  Gray dropped the trout into his fish basket and cast the line again. Strike.

  “Either you are an extraordinarily talented fisherman or there are some mighty hungry trout in this stream.” She paused. “Perhaps I really should remove my foot.”

  Gray turned and gave her a smile. His eyes twinkled bright and happy. “Your foot is safe. I’ve caught the two great whites that were circling.”

  She watched as he collected dry twigs and deadfall and kindled a small fire. When he had it burning steadily, he gutted the fish and skewered the two trout on two thin, pliant sticks and cantilevered them over the open flame.

  “Are you allowed to do that in a state park?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Aren’t you worried about rangers?”

  “Absolutely not. This is my state, my state park, my fish.”

  “What logic!” she said with a snort. So what do you do professionally… outside of blatantly skirting the law by syllogism?”

  “I’m a youth counselor over at the Sioux reservation.”

  “Teach by example, do you?” This earned her an ear to ear grin. “Do you like what you do?” she asked, frowning at him in return.

  “I do, when I’m successful in steering someone in the right direction. Do you like your veterinary work?�
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  “Most days,” she said. “I feel great when I save an animal, horrible when I lose one.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  “This week was a rough one,” she said in a tone that ended that line of conversation.

  “You’re not from around here.” It was a statement of fact.

  “No. Are you?”

  “I’ve lived here all my life.”

  That explains his fearlessness with regard to park rules. He probably knows the rangers, went to school with them and buys them beers on Saturday night.

  He tested the fish with a small penknife then transferred them from the sticks onto a flat piece of wood pulled from his backpack. Opening them up to expose the white flesh, he removed the bones. “I have forks,” he said. “But it honestly tastes better if we use our fingers.”

  She scooped up a morsel and popped it into her mouth. She couldn’t help herself. She moaned. “My God, this is fantastic.”

  Gray nodded and took a bite himself. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Numb,” she replied, focused on the fish in front of her.

  “I’ll have to carry you down the mountain.”

  “You can’t carry me down the mountain. I’m heavy. Besides, as soon as I get feeling back in my foot, I think I’ll be able to walk.”

  “If you walk today, you’ll limp tomorrow,” he replied, snagging another piece of flaky trout. “I’ll carry you.”

  His face was fierce, darkly so. She had to work at keeping her voice modulated when she answered. “No. And thank you. Really.”

  Her eyes lifted to scan the tree line.

  “Tell me about this wolf of yours. Your eyes hunt for him constantly.”

  “Oh,” she said, heat rising to her cheeks. “He’s quite special. More human than animal, really.”

  She stopped speaking abruptly and they locked eyes.

  Gray looked amused. “I’m not offended by such thinking, Ms. Hastings. I’m Sioux.”

  A soft breeze wafted over her skin and she closed her eyes, chastising herself for her stupidity. When she opened them, Gray was staring at her. The earnestness of his gaze unnerved her.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m just out of sorts today.”

  He nodded, then packed up his gear, rested it by a tree and returned to her. “I would like to help you. First, let’s pack up your things, then, let’s talk about whether you are up to a hike… or not.”

  As he folded her blanket and re-stuffed her knapsack, she pulled her foot from the water, dried it on her right pants leg and put it gingerly back into her hiking boot. She stood and took a tentative step. The ankle ached, but the stabbing pains were gone. She took another step. She was mobile, but the idea of walking a few miles downhill was out of the question.

  “Can you walk?”

  She shook her head.

  “I didn’t think so.” He slid both packs onto his shoulders then lifted her up effortlessly into his arms. “You are in safe hands, Julie.” He squeezed her lightly. “Look around. There is no wolf tearing at my throat.”

  Her breathing quieted. “Thank you, Gray.”

  For a few moments, they were silent. He fell into an easy rhythm as he trudged downhill. He was sure-footed and soft on his feet despite the fact that he carried her in his arms and all their gear on his back.

  “Julie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why are you so afraid?”

  The question was so caring and spoken so tenderly that she decided to answer it.

  “My stepfather beat me badly,” she said, “All through my growing-up years, I was his personal punching bag. He was a big man. You are a big man. Big men scare me.”

  He could hear the frightened child in her very words. “Not every man is a beast.”

  “I know that. I’m grappling with that. Unfortunately, this is not something that I can… get over… quickly.”

  “Why didn’t your mother protect you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “And I don’t know why she stays with him. I left home as soon as I could, and I left the state at the first opportunity.”

  “You don’t keep in contact?”

  “No.”

  “Other family members?”

  “Um… could we talk about something else?” She squirmed in his arms, physically expressing her emotional discomfort.

  “Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “I try not to think about the past too much,” she explained. “That’s all. It’s not a place I want to be.”

  It took almost an hour to reach the parking area, so he filled the awkward silence with tales of his childhood… his first pony, his first stint as a cowboy, his first rodeo. The stories were fascinating and he had an interesting way to tell them. He’d make a statement then qualify it. But the qualification was always expressed as a question that she had to answer. He made her an active part of the story.

  “On my tenth birthday I got a four-legged present,” he said. “You know what every ten-year-old boy wants for a pet, don’t you?”

  “A puppy?”

  “That’s very East Coast, Ms. Hastings.”

  “A mountain lion?”

  “Tsk. Tsk.”

  “A horse?”

  “Ah, third time lucky. And of course you can imagine the terribly original name for said beast?”

  “Lightening?”

  “Very good!”

  His voice was deep and comforting, but she was stiff in his arms. Tightly wound.

  “Did you drive over?” he asked, stepping onto asphalt. He searched the lot and eyed a police cruiser making the rounds.

  “No, I walked.”

  “Then, I’ll carry you home.”

  Dan Keating pulled up beside them and powered down his window. “Everything okay here?”

  “No, actually,” said Julie, “I’ve sprained my ankle. Mr. Walker was kind enough to cart my clumsy self down half the mountain.”

  Gray set her lightly to her feet and she wobbled slightly, all her weight on one leg.

  “Would you like for me to take you home?” Dan asked.

  “Could you?” she asked, relief washing over her. “I’ve imposed on this gentleman more than enough for today.” She turned to Gray and offered her hand. He took it. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

  “My pleasure,” he said with a nod.

  Gray helped her into the squad car and handed her her pack. “Keep it iced. Keep it up.”

  “Will do,” she replied brightly, trying very hard to mask her pent up anxiety with politeness.

  Dan pulled away and she shivered violently.

  “You all right?” he asked, his eyes sliding in her direction.

  “No,” she said, “Yes, he’s just… Gray is… just a little scary, that’s all.”

  Dan nodded. “He didn’t do or say anything to upset you, did he?”

  “No,” she swallowed. “Not at all. He was great. It’s just, well, I don’t know him. And I was alone. And he’s BIG and he’s scary.” She swallowed again. “I’m just glad he’s such a good guy. He is a good guy, right? He wouldn’t have hurt me, right?”

  She was babbling.

  “Hey.” Dan pulled to the curb.

  She turned to face him, her face pale, and her eyes large.

  “I’m going to stop by Jake’s BBQ and get us some nice beef brisket and a side of beans. Rib-sticking stuff. You can wash it all down with a nice little pilsner. Then I’ll take you home.”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  “Don’t make me use the handcuffs.”

  She shook her head.

  “Gray is rather on the monster-side of mean as far as looks go,” he said, throwing the car into gear. “And I can see where you’d be terrified.”

  She nodded vigorously.

  “I can’t imagine meeting that man in a dark alley on a moonless night.” She shivered. “He had me in vapor-lock in the bright light of late afternoon.”

  “We’ll just ord
er you up a very large little pilsner. You’ll be fine. I’ve never had any trouble out of that man, despite his appearance.”

  He pulled into Jake’s and helped her inside. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she tucked into her beef and beans, grateful for the chatter of voices around her. She drank her beer as if she had just walked out of the Sahara.

  “He really had you spooked, didn’t he?” Dan asked.

  “Oh! No,” she said, becoming aware of her body language. She was hugging herself. She released her own arms and took a more moderate sip of beer.

  Dan was watching her carefully.

  “Really!” she said, “Hey, and the food is terrific.”

  He nodded.

  “He was nothing but a gentleman. And you didn’t have to do this.” She gestured to the food on the table.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you out,” he said carefully, “And trying to figure out a way to get you to go.” When she didn’t respond to that, he continued. “Word has it you don’t date.”

  “Well, I’m just trying to get settled in. I’m taking things slow.”

  He nodded and sat back against the cushion of the booth, surveying her. “Perhaps in the new year?”

  “Perhaps.” She gave him a small smile. He was ruggedly handsome and his eyes were so blue. He had a sassy bit of curl to his locks too. Marlboro Man. He was a Marlboro Man in a police uniform.

  “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist when she stood and helped her back to the squad car. He also had her by the waist when he deposited her on her front door step.

  “Thank you kindly,” she said.

  “It was my personal pleasure, Ms. Hastings.” He kissed her hand.

  Her heart stuttered, and for the second time in one day, she forgot to breathe.

  Julie baked Dan a tin of gingersnaps and dropped them off at the station that Monday. He was out on patrol, but she put a post-it note on the tin at the reception desk. The dispatcher/receptionist was friendly and polite and overly helpful. She introduced herself as Barbara Rand and was taking total delight in the fact that Dan was getting a cookie delivery.

  Elliott, the young cadet who had been accompanying Dan the day she first drove into Fallston, was just getting off duty. He looked exhausted and spent, yet when she caught his eye, he smiled at her in recognition.