A Time to Live (8 page)

Nikki chuckled.
At least Josh was honest about it.

“Well, look who we have here,” a voice said.
“I thought this little miss would be smart enough not to buy the Stafford place. The neighborhood has been going to the wolves over there.”

Nikki spotted Taylor standing at the door with Sanders, his giant shadow, hovering behind him.

Josh’s expression tightened and he gripped Nikki’s arm, guiding her to the checkout counter. “Nikki, do me one favor,” he whispered, purposefully ignoring Taylor.

“If I can.”

“Be careful up there, aside from Michael, you’re a long way from anyone on that mountain.”

She shivered, forcing herself not to glance back at Taylor.
“I will, Josh.”

He nodded and released her arm.
“See you later.”

****

Two weeks passed and the roof was finished. Nikki had also purchased more furniture for the bedrooms. Michael had helped her haul everything up the stairs. The cabin was now a pleasant home. Still, she was grateful when Michael strode back into the woods. At least that’s what she told herself. Since their conversation in the kitchen, Michael had become a different man. Her apology had helped, but now he knew something was wrong. Once he found out the details, he would be just like the others. Fortunately, Michael hadn’t guessed she had a terminal disease - or had he? He was an intelligent man. It was very possible he had figured it out.

Nikki stared out the window, drinking a cup of coffee and watching the snow fall
, but she was warm and dry. “Despite what you think, Michael, I do appreciate your help.”

She sighed, thinking the cabin seemed empty and silent.
Grabbing her jacket, she decided to explore her property. She had been working so much on the cabin, she didn’t even know what the land around her looked like.

Nikki locked the door then shoved her keys in her pocket.
The land was covered in white, gently sloping upward to a small hill on her right. She spotted the trail, realizing it was the one Michael used to get to her house. Walking slowly, she enjoyed the beauty of the snowy woods around her. Perhaps she shouldn’t give up her photography just yet.

Nikki crested the rise and saw a small,
well-made cabin. Michael’s place? Moving quickly down the hill, she approached the door. All was quiet and she lifted her hand to knock, but hesitated, noticing the door had been damaged. It appeared as if it had been kicked open and Michael had only partially repaired it.

What had happened?
She knocked and the door rattled against the cracked frame, opening slightly.

Cautiously, Nikki stuck her head in.
“Michael?” she called.

Silence greeted her.
She pushed the door open farther and stopped in horror. Everything had been destroyed.

“Michael? Its Nikki.
Are you here?”

A wild fear rose within her.
Was he hurt? She stepped inside, staring at the destruction and realized it wasn’t all that recent. She saw where Michael had tried to fix the couch that had been cut open and mended a few chairs. Broken glass had been swept into a pile and in another corner, slashed paintings with broken frames had also been tossed into a pile. It appeared Michael had attempted to clean up, but it was only a half-hearted effort. Had someone broken in and ransacked the place? Why didn’t Michael tell her? After all the help he gave her, Nikki would have been more than happy to lend a hand. Her gaze returned to the paintings and she picked up one from the pile, replacing the torn canvas so she could see most of the picture.

A young Native American warrior stalked through the forest wearing only buckskins, war paint, and feathers adorning his long black hair.
But the face and body were familiar. Suddenly, Nikki recognized Michael...as he would be donning the garb of his Native ancestors. Her gaze focused on the signature in the lower right had corner.
Roumare, 2010.

She blinked and looked at the other paintings.
Many were of forest landscapes. There were others of wolves, hawks, and some Native American scenes. All of them had Roumare’s signature.

“Michael?” she whispered to herself.
“Did you paint these or did another member of your family?” Why would someone destroy such beautiful work?

She returned the painting and silently stepped through another door, finding the
bedroom. It too had been destroyed. In the corner, she saw an old broken chest. It could only be a woman’s hope chest. A torn, antique wedding dress lay in a heap beside it. On the dresser were strips of Native American bead work, also broken, with tiny beads beside them.

The bed had been ripped apart
, but Nikki saw where Michael had placed duct tape on it so he could sleep on the edge. She shook her head. What in the world had happened?

She moved to the kitchen and found similar destruction there - very few of his dishes had survived.
In the back room, she saw a broken easel with torn canvas. Expensive tubes of oil paints had been crushed into the floor and long since dried. Fine sable paint brushes had been snapped in half. Again there was evidence that Michael had attempted to clean up, but abandoned the project.

Had Michael, in a rage, destroyed his own house and belongings?
Or had someone else done this? With his talents, he should have easily repaired the worst of it - so why had he not finished?

Swallowing hard, she moved for the door.
Whatever had happened, Michael wouldn’t appreciate her intrusion. Nikki stepped outside and carefully shut the door behind her. It took a couple of tries for the latch to catch, but it did and she hurried back down the trail.

The sun rapidly descended and the snow started falling harder.
Nikki pulled out her keys and snapped on her penlight. But the tiny light did little to brighten the gloom. She couldn’t get the picture of Michael’s home out of her mind. Who had done such a terrible thing?

A gunshot broke the silence and Nikki jumped, her heart pounding.
Was Michael hunting? Wait, he didn’t use guns.

Another shot echoed through the valley and fear gnawed at her.
The images of Michael’s house remained vibrant. Dear God, what if he was in trouble?

She turned left on the top of the ridge and trotted northward.
Loud voices, an engine, and gunshots echoed through the ravine. Moving quickly through the trees, she realized the sounds were coming from her land, the hill between her house and Michael’s was the dividing line. As she moved farther north, the hill became the crest of a ravine, its walls growing steeper and higher with each step.

Another shot resounded, and Nikki could only pray that Michael wasn’t involved.
She paused to catch her breath, her lungs protesting, but a coughing seizure did not threaten yet. Nikki saw a dark outline of a vehicle parked on top of the ridge. Although she could not identify people, she recognized several men with guns. They drank and took pot shots at something in the ravine. She frowned and looked down.

A rock fall littered the bottom of the ravine with large boulders.
Among the boulders Nikki saw a white form. Her breath caught when she realized it was a wolf. Normally, the boulders would have been nothing. The animal should have been able to scramble over them. But every time it tried, one of men shot at it, sending it diving back for cover among the rocks where it was effectively trapped.

Relief washed over her, it wasn’t Michael in trouble.
But fury quickly followed. The idiots tormented the poor wolf. That meant it could only be one person. She stormed from the trees.

“Taylor!
What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Abruptly
, everyone fell silent. Nikki squinted, trying to identify people but it was too dark. The engine of the vehicle gunned and suddenly the lights snapped on, blinding her.

She tried to shield her eyes.
“Get off my land!” She couldn’t be sure if it was Taylor, but who else would be shooting at wolves? Abruptly, she remembered Michael’s warning and realized she had just placed herself in a very bad position. The white wolf scrambled over the rocks and disappeared down the ravine. At least that problem was solved.

“This is my land.
Get off now!”

She heard doors slam.
Good, they were leaving.

The engine roared and suddenly the vehicle shot straight at her.
Terror and disbelief almost froze her. At the last moment, Nikki ran for the trees, but the vehicle passed her and cut off her escape. She slid to a stop and ran the other direction. Again the vehicle headed her off. Nikki stopped, her lungs screaming for air. The vehicle was before her, the ravine behind her.

Nikki searched desperately for escape.
She darted left and as the vehicle moved to block her, she lunged right. The driver hit the brakes, but in the slushy snow the vehicle lurched and slid. He yanked the wheel around and suddenly the vehicle headed straight at her again.

Nikki dove, but it wasn’t enough.
The vehicle struck her legs and tossed her like a doll. She smacked into the hood. The air whooshed from her lungs and the vehicle came to a sudden stop. She flew through the air, hitting the snowy ground. Her vision darkened, but she felt herself slide, then fall.

****

Michael ran full sprint. He had been flying Cetan when heard the gunshots and knew they came from Nikki’s land. Taylor was up to no good. Dakota bounded into view. The wolf yipped at him. Michael’s instincts screamed a terrifying warning. “Nikki,” he whispered, horrified.

The wolf turned and ran back the way he came.
Michael charged after him, praying Nikki was all right.

It was almost completely dark when he finally found her at the bottom of the ravine.
His heart leapt to his throat. Blood spattered the white snow which half buried her.

“Oh God, Nikki,” Michael whispered and dropped to his knees, certain she was dead.
His fingers touched her throat and found a steady pulse. Quickly, he pulled of his jacket and put it over her. He almost howled his relief, but cupped her face in his hands instead. Her skin was cold and clammy. Shock and hypothermia no doubt. “Nikki, can you hear me?”

She only groaned.

“Nikki, come on, sweetheart. Open your eyes. It’s me.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked at him.
“Michael?”

“Yes,” he said, smiling broadly.
His relief knew no bounds.

She stared as if trying to make certain he wasn’t an illusion.
Cold, shaking fingers touched his cheek. “I don’t believe it.”

He folded her hand in his.
“What?”

“You are absolutely beautiful when you smile like that.”

Michael’s breath caught in his throat. Nikki was in serious trouble, but instead thinking of his idiotic grin. Obviously, she was hurt and too cold.

“Where are you injured?”

She closed her eyes for a moment.

“Nikki, come on
, sweetheart. Stay awake for me.”

Again she looked at him.

“You’re too cold. It’s important you stay awake. Now, where are you hurt?”

“My head...and my right ankle.”
She moved then groaned. “And my right knee.”

The back of her head had a lump and a scrape still oozing blood.
That explained the crimson around her. Michael moved to her ankle, it was swollen, but thanks to the cold snow it wasn’t too bad. He could still get her boot off without hurting her. Tentatively his fingers examined the battered joint. She sucked in her breath, but said nothing.

“I think it’s just badly sprained, not broken.”
He lightly gripped her knee. Again, painful swelling, but otherwise it was all right. “Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere else?”

“I don’t think so.”
She lifted her hands and wiggled her fingers then moved her left leg. “Everything seems to work, but it doesn’t really want to.”

“That’s the cold.”
Michael shook his head in amazement. Nikki had landed in a snow drift. Lucky to say the least, a few feet either direction she would have slammed into a boulder. “Can you sit up?”

She struggled and Michael steadied her as she swayed.
“Put my jacket on over yours.”

“But you need it.”

“No, I’m going to be working too hard to get cold.”

Nikki frowned in confusion
, but allowed him to put the jacket on her. She looked up at the wall of the ravine then abruptly slumped against him, her hand clutching his shirt. “Michael,” she whispered in a tiny voice. “I was so worried. I thought they were shooting at you.” Her entire body began to quiver.

He held her as tightly as he dared, his heart warming with a sensation he did not care to examine too closely.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m here and I’m going to take you home.”

She nodded.
Carefully, he lifted her into his arms.

Nikki bit back a soft cry of pain
, then abruptly sagged, unconscious.