The Healer (4 page)

Shug frowned. “No, I don’t, son. It’s hard times all around, you know.”

Jonah nodded, but before he could answer, the door to the station flew open. He caught a glimpse of a small female wearing a red flannel shirt and jeans as she ran past. Breathless, she grabbed Shug Marten by his arms and began tugging him toward the door.

“Shug! Shug! You’ve got to help me. Hobo got caught in a trap, and I can’t get it off.”

Jonah watched the old man pale.

“Damn it, Luce, I’m real sorry, but there ain’t no way that monster of yours would let me close enough to help, and you know it.”

The woman was frantic. Jonah had heard it in her voice.

“I’ll help,” he said.

Lucia Maria Andahar jumped. She’d been so desperate to get help that she hadn’t realized anyone else was in the room. She turned abruptly, eyeing the tall, dark-haired man with the gold eyes and brown skin.

“I don’t know you,” she snapped.

“I don’t know you, either,” he said. “Do you want me to help or not?”

“What’s your name?” Luce asked.

“Jonah.”

She slapped the outside of her pants’ pocket.

“So…Jonah…I’ve got a switchblade.”

Jonah stifled a smile. “I consider myself forewarned.”

Luce frowned. “You mess with me and you’re dead.”

Jonah felt her turmoil. Fear was warring with the extent of her need. He shook his head. “I will not harm you. I promise.”

There was something in the tone of his voice. She hesitated, wanting to believe him. And then there was Hobo. She didn’t have a choice. She had to take the chance.

“Follow me,” she said, and bolted out the door.

Jonah shifted his backpack to a more comfortable position and ran out behind her.

She circled the station, and headed straight up the mountain and into the trees. Jonah followed easily, keeping his gaze on the small woman with the long black braid. She wasn’t very big, but if her heart was as strong as her backbone, she had to be amazing.

L
uce was so afraid for Hobo that she wouldn’t let herself think about the stranger behind her. She’d asked for help. He’d volunteered. All she wanted now was to get back to her dog before he bled to death.

Jonah knew the dog was in danger of dying. The raven flying just above the treetops ahead of them had already told him, but the underbrush through which they were moving made it difficult to run. Still, the young woman ahead of him didn’t seem to have any trouble with the slope. They were going straight up the side of a mountain, and she had yet to slow down.

Luce ran with one hand out in front of her, like a running back with the football, stiff-arming the competition, only her opponent was the mountain itself.

Branches slapped at her face as she ducked under and ran past. Brambles caught in her clothing, then tore through the fabric as she pushed them aside. As cool as the day was, she was sweating, and the stitch in her side was so painful that it hurt to breathe, but resting wasn’t an option. She’d been listening for the sound of Hobo’s cries; the silence frightened her.

It felt like she’d been running forever, but after passing the hollowed-out stump where the summer blackberries grew, she knew they were almost there.

“Hurry!” she shouted.

Jonah felt her panic and increased his stride. Within moments, he was on her heels, then running past her.

Startled that the stranger had chosen to pass her, Luce almost stumbled. What was he doing? He didn’t know where to go. But despite her misgivings, she realized he was going in the right direction and moving out of sight.

Before she had time to process that, she began hearing Hobo’s anguished cries. That explained his behavior. He must have heard Hobo before she had. That was why he’d raced ahead. The knot of panic in her belly pulled tighter as she struggled to keep up.

But for Jonah, time had no meaning. He felt nothing but the injured animal’s pain. The cold was no longer an issue. His hunger and exhaustion were, for the moment, gone. The closer he got to the dog, the more he realized how serious this situation was. He could hear the sound of running water from the nearby creek, and then the high-pitched yips and howls of an animal in mortal distress.

Seconds later, he pushed through a thicket of buck brush and came upon the dog, lying on its side near the creek bank. The area all around the dog was torn up and bloody where it had struggled to get free. When it saw Jonah, it leaped up, then jerked backward, trying to get away.

Then Jonah spoke. “Easy, boy,” he said softly.

Almost immediately, the dog stilled. When he did, Jonah let the pack slide off his back, then dropped to his knees beside him. Blood was everywhere, and he could see signs that the animal had tried to chew off its own leg to get free.

For one brief moment their gazes met. The dog’s whine was heartbreaking. Jonah felt his pain.

“I know,” Jonah said softly, and without thought, cupped the dog’s head with both hands. “I know.”

At his touch, the dog shuddered, then licked Jonah’s hands and quieted, as if Jonah’s touch had become a welcome anesthetic.

“Hang with me, boy,” Jonah said softly. “I’ll get you out.”

He paused only long enough to get a solid grip on either side of the trap. As he did, he was swamped by emotions he didn’t understand. Whoever had set this trap was awash in evil and rage. But there was no time to think about that now. Jonah shook off the feelings and began to pull.

Within seconds, Luce had caught up. Her voice was shaking as she dropped down beside them. She didn’t know how to explain why Hobo, who shunned everyone but her, was lying so still. She had fully expected him to fight the stranger every step of the way. Yet here he was, immobile beneath Jonah’s touch.

“What can I do to help?”

“Find something to wedge into the trap…something big,” Jonah said.

Luce didn’t hesitate. With the coppery scent of blood in her nose, she jumped to her feet, scrambled around beneath the trees and quickly found a large chunk of a fallen branch.

“Will this do?”

Jonah was strong, but the trap was strong, too. And the teeth that had bitten into the dog’s leg were now cutting into him. Ignoring the pain, he caught a glimpse of the branch from the corner of his eye.

“Yes! Come closer and, when I tell you, shove it in the gap.”

Luce shifted her stance and bent slightly, until the branch was only inches from the trap.

Jonah took a deep breath and then gave it all he had, pulling with every muscle in his body until the teeth parted from the dog’s leg.

“Now!” he cried.

The metal dug into his fingers, shredding flesh and sinew all the way to the bone. The rough bark of the branch that Luce shoved past his fingers added insult to injury, but he held his ground. The moment the branch was in place, he let go of the trap and pulled the dog free.

“I’ve got him!” Jonah said.

With the branch still in the trap, Luce shoved it aside. Within seconds, the teeth cut through the pulpy wood and snapped shut with a loud, deadly clap. Splinters and bark flew as the branch flopped to the side.

Luce ducked. Then she saw Jonah’s wounds.

“Oh my God…oh no…your fingers…you’re bleeding,” she cried, and reached for his hands.

“No…I’m all right,” Jonah said, and closed his fingers into fists.

“But the blood…”

Luce felt the air shift around them. Somewhere on a nearby ridge, a wolf suddenly howled, which was odd, because they never hunted in the day. Nervously, she looked over her shoulder. They didn’t need a confrontation with wild animals with Hobo unable to protect himself.

When she looked back, Jonah was opening his hands. The flesh that had been torn was once again brown and smooth. She was still trying to make sense of that when he leaned down and ran his fingers over Hobo’s leg. Huge splinters of bone had pushed through the big dog’s flesh, while blood continued to pour from the wounds.

Luce was sick to her stomach. And scared—as scared as she’d been in years. Hobo was all she had left in this world, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

The dog whined as she laid her hand on his head. The blood showed no sign of coagulating, and his eyes were glassy from shock and pain, yet he lay completely immobile beneath the stranger’s touch.

“His leg…” Luce whispered.

Jonah glanced up at her.

Breath caught at the back of Luce’s throat. The man’s eyes were glittering, his nostrils flared. For a fraction of a second she felt as if she were staring into the eyes of a wild animal instead of a man. Then he looked away and everything stopped.

The forest went silent, and the air, which had been chilled and sharp, suddenly felt too thick and heavy to breathe. She saw the man cover the wound with his hands. As he did, the ground on which they were sitting began to tremble. She was still holding Hobo when a heat-filled current hit the palm of her hand, then shot up her arm.

Startled, she gasped.

The moment Jonah heard her, he realized that the energy coming from him was flowing up and into her, too. He lifted his left hand only long enough to give her a quick push.

Startled by the blow, she fell onto her back, held motionless by a force she couldn’t see.

Above her, the branches of the nearly leafless trees seemed to be vibrating, and she felt the ground beneath her begin to quake harder. As she watched, an aura of light suddenly enveloped Jonah, then spread to Hobo like water running over an outcropping of rock. Swamped by an overwhelming urge to crawl into that light and lie down beneath his touch, she found, instead, that she couldn’t move. She wanted to watch, but she couldn’t keep herself awake. She had no idea how much time had passed; when she opened her eyes, Hobo was standing at the edge of the creek drinking water, and Jonah was a few feet downstream, washing the blood from his hands.

“Hobo!” she cried, and jumped to her feet.

The dog turned at the sound of her voice and then licked her face as she knelt beside him. She couldn’t believe it!

“What did you do? Oh, my God…oh, my God! His leg! It’s…it’s…” She rocked back on her heels and stared up at Jonah. “How did you do that?” she cried, as she ran her hands up and down the length of Hobo’s leg. The brown-and-white fur was bloody, but the limbs were sound. It didn’t make sense.

Jonah stood above her with water dripping from his hands. He’d learned the hard way that trying to explain never worked. He answered, even though he knew she wasn’t going to like it.

“I healed him,” he said, and wiped his hands on the legs of his pants, before picking up his jacket and putting it back on.

Luce stared at him with an expression of disbelief.

Jonah knew the look, and knew what came with it. He sighed, curious as to how the woman was going to make her mind accept what she’d seen.

Luce heard what he said, but it didn’t make any sense. Had she just fallen into some alternate universe?

“No. No. You didn’t just swab on antiseptic and set broken bones. You put that leg back together as if it never happened. That’s impossible.”

The corner of Jonah’s mouth twitched as he stifled a smile.

“If it’s impossible, then I guess it didn’t happen.”

Luce frowned. “But—”

“Why question what you saw, when the results are what was needed?”

Luce shuddered. The man’s voice was soft, his words persuasive. She’d already been living in fear for the past five months, and trusting a stranger wasn’t easy. But now that she’d seen what he’d done, it was disbelief that made her keep her distance. If he could do that, God only knows what else he was capable of.

Before she could answer him, a small brown bird came down out of a tree and landed on his shoulders. The sight was so unexpected that Luce forgot what she’d been going to say. She pointed.

“Uh…there’s a, uh…it’s just—”

Jonah turned and looked at the bird, cocked his head sideways, then looked back at Luce.

“He says you have a good heart. He also says you feed him bread crumbs, and that the whole-wheat ones are his favorite.”

Luce staggered backward, tripped on the sprung trap and the broken limb, and sat down with a thump.

Jonah rushed over to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked, as he offered her a hand.

Luce stared at his fingers, then up at him. His face mirrored concern. The little bird that had lit on his shoulder was gone. Hobo was licking her face in consternation. She wondered if this was how Alice had felt when she’d fallen down the rabbit hole.

“Get back, both of you,” Luce muttered, as she rolled over and got up by herself, then dusted the leaves and dirt from the seat of her pants.

The man was still watching her. She couldn’t decide if the look in his eyes was friendly or feral. Either way, he gave her the creeps. Then she looked at Hobo. The big brown-and-white mutt was sound and whole, and her world was back on track. She put her hands on her hips and looked back at Jonah.

“What did you say your name was?” she asked.

“Jonah. Gray Wolf. What’s your name, little warrior?”

Luce flushed. “Lucia Maria Andahar, but people call me Luce.”

She pronounced her name the way someone would say the word
loose,
but Jonah suspected there was nothing loose about her. Everything about her, from the way she held herself to the rigid set of her lips, was coiled tighter than a bedspring.

She fingered the St. Christopher medal hanging from an old chain around her neck without taking her gaze from his face. It was the first time that she’d taken a really good look at him. His features were strong and even. His skin was dark like hers, but she thought he was Native American and not Latino. At the moment, his mouth was slightly curved, as if he were stifling the urge to smile. His eyes, which had seemed frightening earlier, were now a soft amber color, and his expression never wavered. But there was that thing he’d done—making a horrible wound completely disappear.

Then, suddenly, she thought she knew.

“You’re an angel…aren’t you?”

Jonah smiled. “That’s a first.”

Luce frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

His voice was soft, but his smile disappeared. “I’m not an angel. I’m not from heaven.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m not from anywhere.”

“Then how did you do that?” Luce asked.

“I don’t know,” Jonah said, and then he looked around for his backpack. When he saw it, he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder.

“You’re leaving now?” Luce asked.

Jonah paused. “You don’t need me anymore.”

Something inside Luce protested. Whether it was a premonition or a warning, she knew that if she never saw this man again, it would be a loss from which she would never recover.

She glanced up. This late in the year, evenings were short. The sun was already riding the western sky and sliding down behind the trees under which they were standing.

“It will be dark before you can get back into town.”

“I sleep in the dark every night,” Jonah said softly.