Storm's Refuge Read online

  Michelle folded the blanket and fashioned a bed for Storm and her puppies near the warmth of the heater. She pulled the curtain on the darkening sky to shut out the gathering cold.

  Clattering down the stairs, she made a bee line for the kitchen where the wood stove was sending out delicious waves of warmth. Cale turned from the cupboard with a box of macaroni dinner in his hand and a sheepish look on his face. A pot of water boiled on the stove, and Michelle hurried to turn the burner to a lower heat before it bubbled over onto the stove top.

  “This is the best I can offer you. I haven’t had time to get groceries lately.” Cale handed her the box with an apologetic grin.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers. It looks good to me.”

  “Better than eating crow and apologizing to Stacey?” The vet quirked his eyebrow at her and took a step back.

  “Hell will freeze over first.” She glowered and dumped the pasta into the rolling water.

  “It’s not Stacey’s fault, Michelle, and for what it’s worth I think your brother really cares about her.”

  “You don’t know my brother like I do. He’s all roses and wine until the thrill of the chase wears off and it gets boring. He runs like a deer the second one of them gets even a tiny bit serious. I’ve seen it way too many times to think this is anything different.”

  “It’s still not Stacey’s fault, and I think you owe her an apology.”

  “Why, because she’s a friend of yours?”

  The silence in the kitchen spoke louder than any words he could have said. Michelle turned with the wooden spoon in her hand and met the dark-haired man’s gaze. Her first instinct was to tell him to go to hell, and she opened her mouth to do just that. Her anger died as quickly as it flared, and she turned back to the stove.

  “Okay, maybe I was rough on her. It just infuriates me George’s women can’t see through the bullshit and leave him nursing a broken heart once in a while.”

  “So, you’ll say you’re sorry for screaming at her like a fish wife?” Cale pressed her.

  “Fine, yes, I’ll go make nice tomorrow when I get my things and bring the stock over.” She relented.

  “Stock? You want to bring the cattle over here?”

  “No, just my two horses and the chickens. George can take care of the cattle and the rest of the horses; according to him, they’re his anyway.”

  Michelle dumped the cheese mix into the strained macaroni, added butter and some milk before stirring the mixture and bringing the pot to the table.

  “The barn is empty, and I think some of the corrals are still in working order. Come spring, I’ve got a lot of work to do around here.”

  Cale brought two cans of cola to the table and sank into a chair with a heavy sigh. “If I’d known just how rundown this place was, I would have dickered more on the price.”

  “Yeah, Rob kind of let the place go to hell in a hand basket after his folks moved to town. He was off following the circuit, and there were way more glamorous things to do than fix fences and bang on shingles.” Michelle got the ketchup from the fridge and set it by the plates before sitting in the chair next to Cale.

  “So how long are you planning to hide out here?” The words were slurred by his mouthful of macaroni.

  “As long as you’ll let me, and didn’t your momma ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?” She giggled.

  “You can stay until you patch things up with your brother. Mary’s gonna be mad at me for not making you work things out and offering you a refuge instead. She told me it’s time you quit running and dealt with your problems. Her words not mine.” He held up his hands in a mock attempt to protect himself.

  “Mary should mind her own business,” she replied with a snort. “She always favours George ‘cause he can wrap her around his little finger.”

  “So long as you make things right with Stacey tomorrow, I have no objections to you staying here. The neighbours might talk though, you know.”

  “They can think what they want as far I’m concerned. This is the twenty-first century, not 1963 for heaven’s sake.”

  They finished the meal in silence. Michelle scraped the leftovers into Storm’s dish and ran her hand over the dog’s head. The shrill of the phone broke the comfortable stillness, and instinctively she reached out to answer it.

  “Chetwynd Ranch.” The words rolled off her tongue before she stopped to think. Dead silence answered her.

  “I’m looking for Cale Benjamin. This is the number he gave me.” The voice sounded confused.

  “No, this is the right place. Hang on a sec, and I’ll get him for you.”

  She handed the phone to Cale with an apologetic grimace. He took the receiver and pushed himself back from the table before he answered.

  “Dr. Benjamin here. Oh hey, Mom, no this is the right number. Michelle just made a mistake when she answered the phone.”

  He was silent for a few minutes, listening to whatever his mother was saying and rolling his eyes.

  “She’s my closest neighbour, Mom; don’t go reading more into it than there is.”

  Michelle rose from the table and gathered the dishes to carry to the sink. The heat rose in her face, and she knew it was bright red. Now his mother would think they were involved. The last thing she needed was another matchmaker like Mary. Her hands stilled in the water at the sudden thought, maybe his mother didn’t like the idea of some woman being alone with her son. What if she thought Stacey was the perfect person for Cale? She resumed washing but couldn’t stop the train of her thoughts. What did it matter anyway? She wasn’t interested in Cale that way. She wasn’t, she told herself sternly. Men were trouble, pure and simple. She jumped as Cale put his hand on her shoulder and ducked her head to hide the blush she knew stained her cheeks.

  “Sorry, about that. My mom’s radar was going off, happens anytime there’s a woman in proximity to me she thinks it might be ‘the one’.” His soft laughter warmed her heart in a way she couldn’t explain.

  “Good thing she doesn’t know I’m bunking here.” She smiled over her shoulder and set the last plate on the dish rack.

  “Umm, yeah…her and Dad are coming on New Year’s Eve to see the place and take stock of what needs fixing. They’re gonna notice you’re staying here.”

  “I can clear out if you want,” she offered.

  “I don’t mind if you don’t. It’s kind of nice to think there’s someone here when I get home. Keep the home fires burning and all that.”

  “What if they hate me?”

  “Why in heaven’s name would they hate you, silly woman?” He ran his hand over her hair.

  “Maybe your mom thinks Stacey is better for you than someone she doesn’t know?”

  Cale’s laughter made her spin around and glare at him. “Mom told me in no uncertain terms if I married Stacey some village just lost their idiot. I never had any intention of marrying the girl. We were never more than friends.”

  “I don’t want to be in the way when your folks are here though.”

  “If I thought you would be in the way, I’d tell you. I’d like it if you stayed and met my parents. Mom is gonna love Storm, and we might get a home for a couple of puppies.”

  Michelle raised her eyes to meet his warm brown gaze and nodded her head, not trusting her voice at the moment. Cale placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her against his broad chest. After a second’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt him sigh, and the whisper of his breath on her hair a moment before his lips touched her temple. They were warm and soft against her skin. Michelle let her eyes drift closed and smiled into his shirt. His mouth traveled across her cheekbone. She tilted her head and sought his lips with her own.

  The touch of his mouth on hers sent molten fire through her limbs, and somehow she forgot to breath. The world narrowed to the heat of his body against hers and the hardness of his muscles under her fingers. In response to his deepening kiss, she allowed
a hand to drop from his waist and caress the hard muscles of his butt. She smiled against his lips when his body leaped at her touch and purred in her throat as his hand trailed down her collarbone and cupped her breast in his palm.

  She loved the way his body reacted to her, shoving her hands into the back pockets of his jeans, she stroked his ass and was rewarded by the press of his hips against hers. Cale brushed the sensitive peak of her bosom with his thumb, and Michelle fought to control the rush of heat pooling in her groin. She resisted for a moment before giving in and letting the delicious fire run through her veins. Freeing her hands, she grasped his shirt above the belt of his jeans and pulled it free. She giggled when he jumped as her cold hands met his hot body.

  “Christ, Michelle. Are you trying to kill a man, putting cold hands on him like that?”

  “You know what they say, Vet Man, cold hands, warm heart.”

  She ran her hands up the cords of muscle on his broad back. A small squeal escaped her lips when his broad hand cupped her buttock, his fingers slipping in to touch the heat between her thighs. Her fingers closed convulsively on his shoulders while his hands woke a fierce passion that threatened to drown her with its intensity. The world narrowed and consisted of nothing except the touch of his fingers on her body and the response she aroused from his heated flesh.

  An annoying vibration on her hipbone registered a split second before Cale removed his lips from her neck. Cursing softly under his breath, he dug in the front pocket of his jeans for something. Michelle floated in a peaceful bliss, her fingers toying with the hard button of his nipple while her head rested on his shoulder. His hand captured her errant fingers and gave her a tiny shake. She shook her head and moved away from him slightly to process the chain of events she was engaged in. What am I doing behaving like this? I’m not some buckle bunny looking to put notches on my belt, for God’s sake. I’ve never acted this way before, even with Rob. What is wrong with me?

  Extricating herself from his arms, she turned back to the sink and the dishes. Vaguely she was aware of sound of his voice speaking to someone on the cellphone.

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Meet me at the clinic.” His voice was calm and businesslike.

  “What’s up?” She turned to face him with the dishcloth in her hand.

  “McIntyre’s have a heifer in trouble. She’s way early, and it sounds like the calf is hip locked.” Cale drew on his boots and coat while he spoke. Pointing his key fob out the window, he was rewarded by the mighty Dodge springing to life.

  “Can you call Doc and let him know to expect McIntyre, and that I’m on my way?”

  He stopped in the doorway and fixed her with a long look which stirred up the emotions from a few moments earlier all over again.

  “We’ll finish our conversation later, Michelle.”

  “There wasn’t much talking going on.” She snorted.

  “I gotta go; we will talk later.”

  His promise hung in the air after he left. She watched the taillights of the truck disappear down the lane and reappear on the other side of the coulee where the road looped back before passing her place. George’s place, she reminded herself. The warm lights winked through the blowing snow. How many times had she imagined this scene?

  In her daydreams, she was the mistress of the house, filling it with children and the aroma of baking bread and cookies. Sitting down to dinner after a hard day of work, with the four kids she always wanted, and her handsome husband waiting to cut the roast. She would look out the big window to the house across the coulee where she grew up and feel connected to both her old life and her new one. Her daydream eyes looked down the table, past her three sons and one daughter to smile at her handsome Cale.

  “Cale?” The sound of her startled exclamation broke the spell of her favourite daydream.

  Unsettled and disturbed, she turned back to the washing up. Rob, it was Rob who was supposed to smile back at her from the head of the table, his eyes promising pleasant things in the dark quiet of their room later. Rob, not Cale.

  Closing her eyes, Michelle concentrated on Rob, attempting to bring his familiar features into focus. Her inner eye refused to cooperate, and Cale’s face looked back her, refusing to be displaced. What was it about the man? How could he make her feel like this when she had only known him such a short while? He made her feel things she never knew existed. Kissing Rob and loving Rob paled in comparison to the emotions which rocked her just by being near Cale.

  I wonder if Gramma was right, and Rob was just a habit I never out grew? I guess I should have listened to her more. I never felt anything like this when I was with Rob, even when we had makeup sex after he’d go chasing some buckle bunny. Why did I put up with it? Gramma and Mary both told me, I just didn’t hear.

  “Mary…crap, I forgot to call Doc.”

  Her hand was trembling as she dialled the familiar number. The realization she so misunderstood her relationship with Rob irritated her. The fact Cale could reduce her to mush scared the heck out of her.

  “Doc, hey it’s Michelle. Cale is on his way in to the clinic to meet the McIntyres. They’re bringing in a heifer he thinks is gonna need a C-section.” She delivered the information quickly, hoping Doc wouldn’t ask why she was calling for Cale.

  “Got it, Chelly. I’ll go turn the lights on in the clinic and get things ready just in case. Everything okay? Why are you calling from Cale’s and not home? You and George still feuding?”

  “Something like that; I gotta go, Doc.” Michelle hung up quickly and pressed her cold hands to her hot cheeks.

  She finished the washing up and tidied the rest of the kitchen. The floors needed a good scrub, and the curtains would have to come down and get bleached to return them to the original white. Maybe she should just get new ones. She mentally kicked herself—this wasn’t her house to buying curtains for.

  Flicking off the overhead light, she left the small lamp by Cale’s makeshift desk burning. The puppies were sleeping in their bed by the stove, and Storm looked up with her big brown eyes, pleading for a respite from the voracious youngsters. Michelle laughed softly and gestured with her hand to indicate to Storm she could follow her upstairs if she liked. The black dog got carefully to her feet and limped over to push her head into Michelle’s hand.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she gathered the dog in her arms and carried her up. Once in her room, she set the dog on the bed. Storm turned around once before curling up with a sigh on the side next the wall. Michelle shed her clothes quickly in the chilly air and climbed under the covers. Rolling over, she pulled the blankets from under Storm and flipped them over her. She snuggled the dog against her body to share the warmth. One minute she was thinking about Cale and the McIntyre’s heifer, and the next she was asleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cale was nowhere in sight when Michelle entered the kitchen in answer to the high pitched demand of the puppies for their mother. Storm padded in behind her and made a beeline for the yelping creatures. Blessed silence settled over the room, the screeching replaced by loud slurps and the occasional tiny growl from the squirming mass of black fur. Michelle smiled as Storm lay down on her side with a sigh. Filling her mug from the pot on the counter, she moved to the table and picked up the note which was anchored under the sugar jar.

  Cale’s writing was dark and spikey and amazingly legible for a doctor. He was out on another call already this cold morning. The keys for the farm truck were under the note, so she could pick up the chickens and her horses. She shivered as she surveyed the wintry grey farm yard. Finishing her coffee, she rose and shrugged into her outdoor clothes. It would be nice to have the rest of her belongings with her, she thought, pulling on the only pair of gloves she had.

  Leaving Storm and the puppies in peace, she hurried outside and fired up the old red farm vehicle. Fortunately, Cale thought to plug it in for her, and it turned over without too much protest. She set the heater on full blast and scurried back to the relative warmth
of the house. Michelle looked through the window toward the ranch on the far side of the coulee to see if George’s truck was still there. With any luck at all, she could be there and gone before he knew it. The last thing she felt like this morning was another go round with her pig-headed brother.

  Although, she supposed, she did promise to apologize to Stacey. She ran her hand over her face in exasperation. In all fairness, she probably did owe the girl one, but it rankled just the same. Of all the women George could have picked up and brought home, why did it have to be her? She could see Mary’s hand in this from the get go. Well, the woman will have a hay day with the news I’m staying at Cale’s. The thought brought a wry smile to her face.

  With one last glance out the window in the direction of her ranch, Michelle wasted no time in getting from the warm house to the dubious warmth of the truck cab. Surprisingly for an old beast, it threw a decent amount of heat. The keys for her truck were in her pocket, so she would leave the farm truck at George’s for now and bring her own vehicle back with the trailer. Deftly sliding the manual transmission into first she drove out of the yard.

  A short time later, she was turning into the familiar drive and bumping toward the main house. George’s truck was missing, and she heaved a sigh of relief. Sliding the truck into the spot beside her own, Michelle parked and jumped out. She made short work of sliding the coupler into the socket for the trailer and hooking up. Rubbing her hands together to warm them, she headed for the tack room to collect her saddles, bridles and grooming equipment. A ruckus from the hen house drew her attention as she exited the barn. She hurried to dump the load of tack she carried into the dressing room of the trailer.

  Slamming the door, Michelle went to investigate the problem in the chicken house. If George left the door open, and the coyotes got in—