The Healer (10 page)

There was nothing in life he would rather do than stay with her—forever. But for Jonah, wanting and having were two different things.

“It’s your call,” he said.

The tension in Luce’s body eased. That was all she needed to hear.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Jonah was watching her expression closely, memorizing everything there was to know, knowing there would come a day when memories would be all he had left of her.

“Yes. Have a good day, Lucia.”

There was a smile on her face as she got out of the truck. For the first time in a long time, she felt good—and even better, she felt safe.

He’d been standing at the counter in the drugstore, waiting for a prescription to be filled, when he’d turned around and seen Bridie Tuesday’s old truck pull up to the diner. When he saw Luce Andahar get out and go inside, a knot formed in his gut. He’d wanted her the day she’d shown up in town, and he’d wanted her every day since. It was a sin to want a woman like that, and since he was already married, it was an even bigger sin.

But he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He’d prayed on his knees until they’d ached to be delivered from the insanity of such lust. He’d closed his eyes when he made love to his wife and pretended she was Luce. He bought things for his wife with Luce in mind. The unholy desire had eaten at him for the past five years until his thoughts about Luce were no longer rational. He’d though that when he married his wife, this lust for other women would end. And for a while, it had. Then Luce came to town, and everything he’d tried so hard to forget had returned. He’d fought the desire until he could fight no more.

One night a few months ago, he’d had a dream. When he woke, he was convinced it had been a sign from God. In the dream, he’d finally had her. He’d used her over and over until the very sight of her naked body had been abhorrent to him. And in the dream, he’d been delivered from the lust and cleansed by God Himself for the deed, just like so many times before.

By the time he woke up, the plan was already in his head. He would have Lucia Andahar—and then, of course, he would have to kill her. He couldn’t possibly leave her behind to tell what he’d done, but the lust would be gone.

And so he’d begun what he thought of as courtship by leaving her a note. It didn’t matter that it had been more warning than promise. Over the ensuing weeks, he’d become empowered by the “chase,” and the notes had turned into sick promises of what he was going to do.

Then, a few days ago, his mother-in-law had taken ill. He’d put his wife on a plane to Dallas, then driven home, convinced he’d been given a sign. It was time to make his move.

It was after six in the evening when he got back to Little Top, fielded all the questions and well-wishes from friends and neighbors regarding his mother-in-law’s poor health, while waiting in feverish anticipation of nightfall.

Sometime after midnight, he’d driven up to the old Tuesday place and parked a few yards down from the house. He’d reached for the duffel bag containing surgical gloves, condoms and the knife he intended to use when he was through. Just as he’d reached for the door handle, a huge dog came out of nowhere.

“Shit!” he’d gasped, and let go of the handle.

The dog was barking ferociously. If this kept up, there was no way he could get to Luce without being seen. Frustrated, he’d started the car and quickly driven away.

He’d known she had a dog, but he had forgotten to take its presence into consideration. Frustrated by this unexpected roadblock to deliverance, he’d begun making plans as to how to get rid of it.

On his way to work, he’d seen Luce enter the diner, then watched her dog meander down the block into the little park across the street from the library. Once the dog curled up and went to sleep beside a large pine, he’d known his chance had arrived.

During his workday, he’d stopped long enough to set a trap down at the creek below her house. All animals went to the creek to drink. Most wild animals would shy away from man’s scent on the trap, but a tame dog would only be curious and willing to eat the meat he’d used for bait. He’d driven away, confident that he’d taken care of the problem.

Then, last night, he’d gone up the mountain, expecting to find the dog dead, or at least incapacitated, only to find the trap sprung and empty. He’d debated about setting it again, then changed his mind. Tonight he would bring his pistol. Just a pull of the trigger and that would be the end of the dog—then the woman was his. The sooner he had her, the sooner this madness would end. So he’d gone home.

Now this.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Curiosity got the better of him, and he quickly walked to the front of the store just as the truck backed up and started down the street.

He tried to see who was driving, but all he could see was an indistinct figure of a man before the truck moved out of his sight. He glanced across the street. It was Bridie Tuesday’s truck, all right, but that had not been old Bridie behind the wheel.

“I’ll be back for that prescription later,” he called out, and headed for the diner, knowing he was going to be late for work, but it didn’t matter.

Luce had been almost an hour late. By the time she walked in, the diner was filling up fast. Harold was ready to fuss until she quickly explained that Bridie had taken a fall and she’d been tending to her. It seemed an easier explanation than trying to convince her boss that she’d watched a man bring Bridie back from the brink of death with nothing more than a laying on of hands.

Harold easily accepted her excuse, and so Luce’s day began. By the time she’d turned in her first two orders, the place was filled with regulars, with more coming in as fast as others were going out.

Harold slid a pair of plates onto the pickup window as Luce hurried up.

“Hey, Harold…what’s going on in town this morning? This is double our usual clientele.”

Harold slid a plate of eggs and hash browns toward her, then finished it off with a side of hot biscuits and gravy.

“Other than the first of the month, I haven’t a clue. Here…this is Junior Coker’s order. You take it on, and I’ll have Mike and Stu’s up by the time you get back.”

Luce nodded, thankful he wasn’t angry that she’d been late. She couldn’t afford to lose this job. It was all there was in this small mountain town, and the only thing she knew how to do well. She carried the order to Junior, then grabbed the coffeepot and went through the room, refilling cups and laughing at the usual teasing she got from the regulars as she went.

“Hey, Luce…top mine off, will you?”

Luce smiled at Walter Ferris, the local banker, who was waving his cup in the air, while she was emptying the pot in the pastor’s cup.

“Would you bring me an order of sausage and eggs over easy?” Mark Ahern asked, as he slid into the empty chair beside Walter. “Tell Harold to put a rush on it. New phone books are out, and they’ve been added to the regular mail delivery. Today’s gonna slow me down something awful.”

“Coming up,” Luce said, and headed for the kitchen as Ferris clapped Ahern on the back and began talking to him about football.

Pastor Wagner eyed the sway of the long braid hanging down her back, then reached for the jelly.

Across the room, Hank Collins sat in his chair against the wall, watching the little waitress as she dashed about the room. But when she started his way, he quickly turned his attention back to his biscuits and gravy, too shy to say what was on his mind.

Sherman Truesdale grabbed Luce’s wrist as she moved past his table. “Hey, girlie…when are you gonna let me take you out?”

“As soon as Gertie says you can,” Luce fired back.

Everyone laughed, including Sherman. His wife, Gertie, wasn’t about to let that happen.

The bell over the door jingled, announcing the arrival of more customers. Luce turned to see who was coming in but was sidetracked by Harold calling her name. By the time she gathered up the next order and delivered it to the table, her curiosity was forgotten.

The rush of breakfast customers finally ended, and except for a couple of old-timers who were lingering at their table over their third cups of coffee, the place was empty.

“Thank goodness,” Luce said, as she moved past Harold to the storeroom to get some fresh packs of napkins.

The napkin dispensers needed refilling, as did a good portion of the ketchup bottles. She’d never understood putting ketchup on breakfast food, although her Latino roots showed through with her liberal use of salsa on her scrambled eggs, which, now that she thought about it, was pretty close to the same thing.

Now that business had slowed down, she had time to think of Jonah. In the long run, she wasn’t sure what his presence was going to mean to her personally, but she knew she would be forever blessed for having met him.

She glanced at the clock. It was almost ten o’clock. Only five more hours before she would see him again.

J
onah found Middleton’s Feed Store with no problem, parked at the loading dock and walked in the side door. A couple of old men wearing flannel shirts, overalls and gimme caps from a popular implement company were sitting around a freshly blackened potbellied stove, taking advantage of the warmth emanating from it as they argued the pros and cons of the current political environment.

The man behind the counter looked up as Jonah entered. As soon as he realized it was a stranger coming in the store, he straightened up to give him the once-over.

Jonah passed the old men and went straight to the clerk. Just as he was about to introduce himself, an old gray-striped tomcat leaped up on the counter.

“Well, hello, boy,” Jonah said softly, and gave the cat a scratch under the chin.

The cat began to purr so loudly it made everybody smile.

“I’m Paul Binger,” the man said. “That there’s Tiger. He don’t like just everyone, but it’s obvious you passed inspection.”

“Acceptance is a good thing,” Jonah said, then reached across the cat and offered his hand. “I’m Jonah. Mrs. Tuesday hired me to work for her this winter. She sent me down here, said for you to load up her regular order and send her the bill.”

Paul eyed Jonah closer. “Well, now…I can’t say that I’ve ever known Miz Bridie to hire help before.”

Jonah shrugged. “Age changes things,” he said, then hooked a thumb toward the truck. “How much chicken feed and sweet feed does she usually buy at a time?”

“A couple of sacks of each,” Paul said.

Jonah shook his head. “I think you’d better double that. It’s going to snow tonight, and I don’t want her to run out before I can get back.”

One of the old men at the stove laughed out loud and slapped the other on the shoulder.

“See! I ain’t the only one who’s predictin’ snow.”

Jonah glanced toward the stove, smiling slightly as the two old fellows resumed arguing, this time about the weather.

Paul looked out the window, then frowned. “It don’t look much like snow to me.”

“It will snow,” Jonah said.

Paul shrugged. “I’ll load you up with whatever you want.”

Jonah gave the old cat a last scratch between the ears. “Show me where it is and I’ll load the sacks,” he said.

“I won’t argue none with that,” Paul said, as they started into the storeroom. “My back ain’t what it used to be.”

Jonah followed the clerk into the back, loaded the sacks onto a dolly and wheeled them to the loading dock, before putting them in the back of Bridie’s truck.

A pair of pigeons roosting under the eaves of the roof cooed a hello. Jonah saw them, but thought better of saying anything. The less notice people took of him, the better off he would be. He signed the ticket Paul produced, then drove away. As he passed the diner, he thought of Lucia. It appeared most of the tables were full, which meant she would be busy. It occurred to him that the man who was stalking her could very easily be inside, watching her work. With a town this small, it was possible—even likely. Just the thought of her in danger made him sick to his stomach. If he ever got his hands on the man who was stalking her…

Frustrated, he shook off the thought and turned his attention to the winding road that led up the mountain to Bridie’s home. By the time he got back, unloaded the sacks, chopped some firewood for Bridie’s fireplace and fixed a gate out by the barn, it would be time for the noon meal.

He was coming from the shop building a few hours later when he saw Bridie step out on the back porch and wave a tea towel at him. He took it to mean that dinner was ready and headed for the house. Something told him that working for this old woman was going to be a gift in so many ways.

A few minutes later he was sitting down to her home-cooked meal, complete with two custard pies she had cooling on the sideboard. From the looks of the overflowing dishes, it appeared that Bridie had gone all out. There was a heaping platter of crusty-fried chicken, a blue-willow bowl filled with mashed potatoes and a matching gravy boat filled with chicken gravy, as well as an old yellow bowl with brown beans and another with coleslaw. A bread basket was near Jonah’s elbow. The scent of hot biscuits coming from under the cover made his belly growl.

He thought about how close Bridie Tuesday had been to death that morning, and now here she was, pink-cheeked from the heat of the kitchen, with a sparkle in her eyes. It was obvious she’d overdone herself. He would have to make sure she understood that this wasn’t expected.

“This looks wonderful, ma’am,” he said, as he stood beside his chair.

“Sit, sit,” Bridie said, as she carried a pitcher of iced tea to the table.

Jonah took the pitcher out of her hands, filled the glasses she had set at their places, then pulled out her chair.

“After you, ma’am.”

Taken aback, Bridie fidgeted as she let Jonah seat her.

“Thank you, kindly,” she said, and then laid her napkin in her lap. As soon as Jonah sat, she said the blessing, then eyed him curiously as she pushed bowls of food in his direction. “You been talking to any more of my critters?”

He grinned. “Do you really want to know?”

She frowned, irked that he’d called her bluff. “I see you’ve been busy this morning.”

Jonah began filling his plate as he answered. “Yes, ma’am. I did what I could see needed doing. If you have special things for me to do, just let me know.”

“First off…call me Bridie. Ma’am makes me feel old.”

Jonah grinned. She
was
old, and they both knew it.

“Okay…Bridie, and just so you know, I’m not used to having such fine food. Don’t wear yourself out trying to fix so much. A sandwich would be fine.”

Bridie smoothed her hair self-consciously, then picked up her fork. “I like to cook, especially when I have someone to cook for, so eat.”

Jonah did as she suggested, rolling his eyes in appreciation as the first bites went down.

“This is so good,” he said. “I don’t remember when I’ve had food any better.”

Bridie beamed. “Franklin always liked my cooking.”

Jonah ate while Bridie began telling a story about Franklin. It was obvious she was lonely. He understood the emotion, but she was letting her food get cold without eating. No wonder she was so frail.

He took a biscuit from the basket, slathered it with butter, and then put it on her plate.

Bridie stopped in midsentence, stunned by what he’d done.

“You should eat,” Jonah said.

Bridie was speechless. It had been so long since anyone had cared what happened to her. Except for Luce, of course, but she didn’t see her all that much. She picked up the biscuit and took a bite, then blinked through tears as she chewed.

Jonah saw the tears and quickly changed the subject. “Brother Mouse thanks you for the new home.”

Bridie snorted lightly, then grinned. “Is that so?”

Jonah nodded, and took another bite of chicken, then poured gravy over his mashed potatoes. Without asking, he did the same for Bridie.

She took a quick drink of her tea, then bent to her plate. Without saying anything else, they began to eat. It wasn’t until the meal was over that Bridie spoke again.

“Have you saved some room for my pie?”

Jonah looked up at her, then winked. “What do you think?”

Bridie giggled, and in that moment Jonah saw her as she’d been—a slender young girl with curly blond hair, blue eyes and a ready smile. No wonder Franklin had been taken with her.

Bridie got up, retrieved one of the pies and dessert plates from the sideboard, then carried them to the table. Her hand was trembling by the time she picked up the knife to cut the pie, but she persevered.

“It’s wonderful,” Jonah said, when he took the first bite.

Bridie beamed. “That’s what Franklin always said.”

“Sounds like your Franklin was a pretty smart fellow.”

Bridie’s smile slipped. “I miss him something awful.”

Jonah hesitated, then laid a hand on her arm, feeling the tiny bones beneath.

“I know what that’s like,” he said gently. “My father’s been dead for more than ten years. He was all the family I had.”

Bridie couldn’t quit staring at this man who was sitting at her table. The warm brown skin, high cheekbones, the strong chin and slight hook to his nose marked his Native American heritage. But his eyes were different—even strange. She couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone with eyes that color. In the light, they looked…gold? That couldn’t be right. She shook off the notion and refocused her attention. He was eating and talking to her with such ease that it felt as if she’d known him for years.

“Aren’t you going to have some pie?” Jonah asked.

Bridie blinked, then looked down at her plate. She hadn’t touched her piece.

“Oh. Yes, I suppose I could hold a few bites more.”

Again they ate in mutual silence. It wasn’t until they were finished and Jonah was helping her clear the table that Bridie introduced another subject.

“I think the world of Luce.”

Jonah paused. He’d been expecting this.

“She thinks the world of you, too,” he said.

Bridie paused, fixing him with a pointed stare.

“I’d like to think you’re not the kind of man who will hurt her in any way.”

“No, ma’am.”

She pursed her lips, trying not to sound judgmental about two consenting adults.

“Living under the same roof makes messing around pretty handy,” she said, and then blushed.

“She’s afraid,” Jonah said.

It was the last thing Bridie had expected to hear.

“What do you mean…she’s afraid? Afraid of what?”

“Someone is stalking her…leaving threatening notes. Whoever it is set a trap down at the creek to get rid of her dog so she would be all alone.”

Bridie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Good Lord! You two are total strangers to each other, and yet she told you all that?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Not exactly. I just know it. The rest she admitted.”

Bridie sighed. “Like you know what the owl says, and the mouse says, and the hawk that told you I’d taken a fall?”

“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said.

“Do you know who’s messing with her?”

“Not yet…but if I ever come in contact with him in some way, I’ll know then.”

“Poor little thing,” Bridie muttered. “And she didn’t say a word to me.”

“She’s a very strong woman,” Jonah said. “I don’t think she likes the feeling of not being in control.”

“Just take good care of her,” Bridie said.

“I intend to,” Jonah said. “Now…it’s going to snow tonight, so what can I do to help you get ready for that?”

“Snow? Oh, I don’t think it will snow this early in the season.”

Jonah shook his head firmly. “It will snow…and Molly is drying up.”

Bridie laughed out loud. “I’ve been noticing her milk production slacking off. It’s all right. I’m getting too old to mess with such things. I just hated to give up my old ways.”

“I’ll bring in some wood for your fireplace. What else would you like done?”

“When do you go get Luce?”

“She said around three. I’ll take her home, then come back here and do evening chores…if that’s all right.”

Bridie smiled. “That sounds fine by me. I made an extra pie, so you could take one home.”

Jonah felt the jolt of the word
home
as if he’d been slapped. He hadn’t had a home in a very long time. And he reminded himself, as long as Major Bourdain persisted in his quest to find him and control his powers, he couldn’t have one.

“That extra pie will be much appreciated. So…I’ll bring in some wood for your fireplace before I leave to go get her.”

“You finish your pie,” Bridie said. “I’ll be right back.” She left the room as Jonah took his last two bites.

She came back moments later with a handful of bills.

“Here,” she said, handing him the money. “I thought you might be needing an advance on your first week’s pay.”

“Thank you,” Jonah said, and surprised Bridie by enfolding her in his arms. “I won’t let you down.”

Within moments of being gathered into his embrace, Bridie was filled with such a sense of peace. It was stronger than anything she could remember. She sighed as the emotion engulfed her.

Even after he’d left the house, she could still recall that warmth, and that feeling of believing anything was possible. It was then that she finally let herself believe that Luce might be right about him, after all. If the man who called himself Jonah Gray Wolf wasn’t a real angel, he was surely blessed beyond normal men.

Luce saw Jonah walking into the diner just as she was taking off her apron.

“Harold…my ride is here. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“It will snow tonight,” Jonah announced.

At seventy-one, Harold’s mind still worked fine, even though he weighed about a hundred pounds too much. But when he looked up at the man coming through the door, he didn’t know what to comment about first. The fact that a stranger, and an Indian at that, had come to take his little Lucia home, or that the Indian was claiming it was going to snow.