Storm's Refuge Read online

  “’Lo.”

  “Michelle, are you all right?” Mary’s worried voice came through the receiver.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Mary. Sorry, I ran off without saying goodbye.”

  “I gave that boy a piece of my mind, I can tell you. Fancy him just showing up on Christmas Eve without warning anyone. He should have figured you’d be there. Sometimes that boy doesn’t have the sense God gave a duck.” Michelle could tell Mary was still on a tear about Rob and the stupidity of men in general.

  “It’s okay, Mary. In a weird way it was a good thing. I think I’ve finally accepted it’s over. Really over. The Rob I thought I loved wouldn’t have done that to me. Maybe I never really got to know the man he grew into, and I just kept on loving the boy who used to worship me.”

  Mary snorted in Michelle’s ear, and she held the receiver away from her head for a moment.

  “You’re still coming for dinner tomorrow? Well, I guess it’s today now isn’t it?” Mary insisted.

  “Yeah, I’ll be in around eleven or so. Is it okay if I bring Storm and the pups? She gets lonely if I’m gone too long.”

  “Sure, bring ‘em. Doc wants to check on the leg anyway. He was talking about her yesterday in the clinic.”

  “Thanks, Mary. I’m headed for bed now, or I’ll never get up in the morning.”

  Michelle replaced the phone in its cradle with one hand and reached for the light switch with the other. The flash of headlights turning in from the road caught her eye through the window. She dropped her hand from the light switch and picked the phone back up. Michelle felt sheepish at her caution, but she wasn’t expecting anyone, and she was alone out here. These days you just never knew who was coming down the drive, not like when she was a kid and never gave it a second thought.

  “What the hell is he doing here at this hour?” Michelle said to Storm when she recognized Cale’s truck. The dog thumped her tail, and then left her puppies to hobble over by Michelle, a growl starting low in her throat at the footsteps on the porch.

  “Michelle?” Cale’s voice was muffled by the door.

  She flicked on the mudroom light and unlatched the door to let him in. Storm growled from the kitchen doorway. Cale stepped through the door and removed his hat. His hair fell forward over his forehead, and Michelle fought the impulse to reach out and push it back for him.

  “What’s wrong? Is there anything I can help with?” Michelle grasped for a reason for his visit. Only an emergency would bring him to her door this late on Christmas Eve.

  “I saw your light on my way by and thought I would stop and say Merry Christmas.”

  “You didn’t make it to Mary and Doc’s tonight. Were you out on a call?” Curiosity got the better of her; she had to ask.

  “No, I had some last minute things to take care of, though. There were no calls tonight, thank God.” Cale sounded tired.

  “Last minute shopper, huh?’ she teased him.

  “Something like that.”

  Michelle thought he sounded evasive. Her gut said he was leaving something out on purpose.

  She watched while Cale bent down and extended his hand to Storm, who quit growling as soon as she recognized him. He stroked her head, running his hand over her ribs and down the bandaged leg.

  “How’s she doing with the puppies? Is she getting around okay?”

  “She’s managing fine. I’m worried about her leg though. I don’t think it’s healing like it should. Doc is going to take a look at it in the morning.” Worry colored her voice.

  “Doc’s not on call. I am.” Cale looked up at her through his thick silky lashes.

  “I’m going in to spend the day with Doc and Mary, so Storm and the crew are coming for Christmas dinner, too.” She smiled in spite of herself.

  Storm jumped and barked at the sound of footsteps on the porch. Michelle swung around and reached for the latch. She heard Cale curse softly under his breath behind her.

  “Cale, anybody there?” An unfamiliar female voice floated through the door.

  “I told you to wait in the truck, Stacey. I’m coming in a minute.” Cale’s voice was rough with irritation as he got to his feet.

  Michelle opened the door to find a dainty blue-eyed blonde angel on her porch. A blonde angel who fluttered her sugar plum lashes at Cale and laid her hand possessively on his arm. She turned and raised the wattage of her smile while she extended her hand to Michelle.

  “I’m Stacey. Cale told me all about you and the poor dog. I want to see the puppies.”

  Stacey took a step toward the kitchen, stopping when Storm’s growl rumbled a warning.

  “The puppies are sleeping right now, and I should be, too.” Michelle said shortly.

  Stacey opened her pretty lips to disagree, but Cale took her shoulders and turned her toward the door.

  “Later, Stacey. Go and wait in the truck, I’ll be there in a minute.” Cale exhaled sharply in exasperation as he gave her a little push toward the door.

  “Don’t be long then.” Stacey pouted prettily before she exited the mudroom.

  “Sorry, Michelle. Stacey is—” he began.

  “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. How you spend your time is none of my business.” She cringed inwardly at the harshness of her voice.

  “Michelle—” Cale tried again.

  “Get going. Don’t keep your girlfriend waiting, cowboy.” Michelle forced herself to speak lightly and twisted her lips into what she hoped was a smile. “Go, git!”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  He seemed reluctant to leave the mudroom. Michelle just wanted him the hell out of there before she did something she would regret later. Cale closed the door behind him, his boots echoing hollowly on the boards of the porch. Michelle and Storm went back to the warm kitchen where Michelle switched off the light. She stood in the darkened window and watched the tail lights of the truck as Cale drove up the lane and turned toward his place. Silently, Michelle replaced the phone in the cradle and raised her hand to wipe away the tears slipping down her face. It was just too much in one night. Having Rob’s marriage shoved in her face was bad enough, but no, Cale needed to come waltzing in with his pretty little blonde girlfriend.

  “Why do I care if he has a girlfriend? I don’t even like the man.” Michelle sniffed to Storm. Storm wisely made no comment, but returned to her bed of puppies.

  The massive Christmas tree in the living room mocked her as she passed the door on the way upstairs. Michelle detoured into the room and turned on the tree lights. The soft glow illuminated the empty room. She sank down on the scarred leather sofa which had sat in the same spot for generations. She stroked the soft surface, memories of other Christmas Eves crowding her thoughts. Loneliness gathered like a physical presence in her chest; Michelle couldn’t remember ever feeling so alone. Her anchors were gone, Rob, her dad, her grandparents. She guessed she could include the mother she didn’t remember. She pulled the knitted afghan off the back of the sofa and curled up under it, watching the twinkling lights on the tree. The tears were still wet on her cheeks when she eventually fell asleep.

  Chapter Six

  Michelle pushed Storm’s cold, wet nose out of her face before she opened her eyes. The black dog’s tail thumped on the floor, her injured front leg poking oddly out in front of her. The pale light of the waning moon and stars filtered through the windows. Christmas morning had arrived, even if the sun wasn’t up yet. Michelle threw off the afghan and swung her legs off the sofa. She ran her hand over Storm’s head before she stood up and folded the knitted blanket. Storm hobbling behind her, Michelle went to the kitchen to get the coffee brewing and put a bowl of dog food on the floor. Pushing away the lingering loneliness from the evening before, she headed out to do morning chores. After checking the waterers and feeding the buckskin mare and her foal, Michelle stepped into the dusty, warm chicken house. The hens were still sleeping and woke with a ruffling of feathers and contented chuckling.

  “Morning,
chicken girls.” Michelle spoke softly while she rummaged under each warm brown breast for eggs. The hens regarded her with beady bright eyes before settling back into the straw nests. She placed the eggs in a large coffee can and securely latched the door before heading back to the house. Once the eggs were washed she snugged them into a cardboard carton. She put the carton on the table beside the Saskatoon berry biscuits ready to take to Doc and Mary’s for Christmas morning breakfast. She took the time to shower and change her clothes before going to collect Storm and her babies.

  “C’mon, Storm let’s get those puppies packed up.” Michelle knelt beside the puddle of sleeping puppies near the stove. She scooped them up one at a time and placed them in the kennel. Storm supervised the procedure carefully, placing her nose on each puppy as Michelle moved them from the bed to the carrier.

  “You stay here and guard them while I put the rest of this stuff in the truck and warm it up.” Michelle stroked Storm’s head and kissed her on the nose before gathering up the items from the table.

  Ten minutes later, Michelle drove down the lane, the truck’s headlights cutting a swath through the pre-dawn darkness. The chores were done and she didn’t want to wait until later in the morning to arrive at Doc’s. Mary wouldn’t care if she showed up earlier than eleven a.m. The snowbound fields reflected the faint starlight, so the snow appeared to glow with a strange luminescence. Storm lay on the seat with her head on Michelle’s thigh; the dog’s injured leg stuck out, making it hard for Michelle to change gears.

  “Merry Christmas, dog.” Michelle spared Storm a glance before turning out onto the main road. The dog thumped her tail on the seat in response. The puppies slept in the kennel, oblivious to the hum of the tires on the asphalt.

  The lights were burning brightly in Mary’s kitchen when Michelle arrived at the door. Her arms were laden with puppies and contributions to Christmas breakfast. Storm hopped ahead of her through the door as Doc held it open for them.

  “Morning, darlin’.” Doc greeted her with a kiss on the cheek while he rescued the precariously balanced eggs from atop the pile in her arms.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Michelle, I’m sorry that idiot boy decided to show up with no notice. Lord only knows what he was thinking.” Mary bustled into the room, her hair pinned haphazardly on top of her head.

  “He wasn’t thinking, as usual. At least not about anything except what’s important to him.” Michelle hated the edge of bitterness she could hear in her voice.

  “Young pup needs his ass skinned for that stunt.” Doc growled.

  “He is who he is.” Michelle struggled to keep her voice light.

  She grinned when Mary snorted loudly as she set bacon to sizzling in the huge fry pan on the stove. With the skill of long practice, Michelle moved to the counter and got the fixings for hotcakes, and before the bacon was done she had a stack of golden cakes in the warming oven. While Mary fussed with the bacon and added sausages to another pan, Michelle cracked eggs into a bowl. Doc set a cup of coffee by her workplace and squeezed her shoulder before he deposited another full cup by his wife.

  “How many are we cooking for this year?” There could be anywhere from three to fifteen people for breakfast, depending on who Mary and Doc invited.

  “Seven, I think.” Mary didn’t turn from the spitting bacon pan.

  “Ten, you forgot Cale and his folks.” Doc corrected her.

  Michelle’s hand stilled on the egg whisk. Her heart jumped into her throat, threatening to choke her before plummeting into her shoes. Damn and double damn. The only thing that could make the day more uncomfortable would be Rob and Kayla sitting there, too. She turned her suddenly hot face toward Doc.

  “Who else is coming?” Silently she prayed he would not say those dreaded names.

  “Ummm, you, me, Mary, Cale, his mom and dad, Lillie Carter, that little blonde friend of Cale’s, and Rob, Kayla and Ella.” Doc muttered the last three names, refusing to look her in the eye.

  The whisk dropped into the eggs with a splash. She cursed under her breath while she fished it out. Merry freaking Christmas to me, she thought savagely. Cale and his little blonde, with Rob and Kayla thrown in for good measure. Michelle ground her teeth, whisking the yellow mixture into frothy frenzy. She tipped the contents of the bowl into the hot pan, stirring it with a little more vigour than was necessary.

  “Am I going to have to break out the sutures and bandages before breakfast is over?” Doc’s teasing tones soothed her flayed temper a bit.

  “Not likely, I don’t plan to give them the satisfaction.” Michelle smiled at him over her shoulder while she continued to push the eggs around in the pan.

  “That’s my girl.” Mary hugged her on the way to the fridge.

  “You are in deep doo-doo, missy. First you throw me at Cale, and now you invite him and his girlfriend to Christmas breakfast. Not to mention my ex fiancé and his new wife. If it wasn’t Christmas, I would have to do some serious damage.” Michelle fixed Mary with a false glare.

  “Saved by the bell.” Doc interjected at the peal of the front door chimes.

  “That’s it, run you coward. Worried you might be next on the hit list?” Mary called after his retreating back.

  “You and me are going to have a long talk later, Mary.” Michelle promised.

  Mary grinned at her unrepentantly and started to fill a platter with the rashers of bacon. Michelle joined her at the kitchen counter. Pulling the hotcakes from the warming oven, she accepted the bacon platter from Mary in her other hand before crossing the floor and using her backside to push open the dining room door. She deposited the dishes on the maple sideboard and turned back to the kitchen to fetch the rest of the food.

  Mary finished filling the coffee pot of her mother’s silver service set and placed it beside the steaming tea pot on the sparkling tray. Michelle reached for the handles of the heavy tray and jumped back in shock when Cale’s hand closed over hers. The solid warmth of his body against her backside was an unwelcome pleasure. She closed her eyes for a brief second to regain her equilibrium before she snatched her fingers away from the electric contact with his. She whirled around, meaning to put as much distance as possible between herself and Cale. Instead, she found herself caught in the circle of his arms, her face inches from his. She placed her hands on his chest to push him away. The minute her hands settled on the warm expanse of his upper body, she forgot that she meant to escape. His eyes captured her attention, and for the life of her, Michelle couldn’t make herself look away. Abstractedly, she felt the buttons on his shirt pocket rise and fall beneath her fingers with each breath he took. The spice of his aftershave wove itself into her consciousness. She detected the faint underlying scent of iodine. She smiled in spite of herself. The smell conjured up happy memories of visits from Doc throughout her childhood. Someone coughed discretely behind Cale, breaking the spell he held over her. Quick as a flash, Michelle snatched her hands from his chest and ducked under his outstretched arms.

  “You planning to stand there holding that tray, or are you taking it in for Mary?” Doc smiled at her and shut the door without entering.

  Cale sought and held her gaze for a long moment before he turned and bore the tray out into the dining room.

  It took Michelle a moment to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer for the patience to get through the day. Releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her hands automatically picked up the last platter of food, and her feet carried her through the door into the dining room. Doc stood in the entryway gathering coats from the newcomers. Rob’s gaze skittered by her, refusing to meet her eyes. Kayla offered up a tentative smile. Rob’s mom, Ella, hurried across the floor and enveloped Michelle in a hug, careful of the full platter in her hands.

  “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Michelle managed to mumble.

  Placing the platter on the sideboard presented the perfect excuse to turn
her back on the growing crowd in the living room. Frantically, she took a couple of deep breaths and willed back the tears of embarrassment and frustration welling in her eyes. Pasting a bright smile on her face, she turned and faced the others in the room. She ignored Cale who was trying to catch her attention, wiped her damp palms on her jeans, and gestured at the waiting table.

  “Breakfast is ready.”

  “Let’s eat.” Doc was first to move toward the large table set with Mary’s special Christmas china.

  Michelle shovelled food into her mouth oblivious to the taste. This kind of stuff was supposed to happen in soap operas, not in her everyday life. If someone told her two weeks ago she’d be sharing Christmas breakfast with Rob and his new wife and the hot new vet who happened to have a cutesy blonde girlfriend, Michelle would have rolled on the floor with laughter. But no, here she was doing just that. Absently, she reached down and played with Storm’s soft ears. The dog sat beside her, hoping for some bounty to hit the floor. Storm did not live by the ten second rule. Anything on the floor was fair game which she didn’t hesitate to claim. The puppies slept soundly in the kitchen, safe in their kennel.

  “Coffee?” Cale’s voice startled her. The look on his face said it wasn’t the first time he asked her if she wanted coffee.

  “Sure.” Michelle handed him her mug, forcing herself not to snatch her hand back when her fingers came into contact with his. Awareness sizzled through her; the intensity in Cale’s gaze told her he felt it, too. Damn the man; he had one woman. She sure as hell wasn’t going to be number two. Or even number one, if there was a number two.