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A noise drew his attention and he turned to find Jase waving his arms, wheezing, desperate to breathe.
"You weren't joking," Cole said. "Where's your inhaler?" He searched through the pockets of Jase's s.h.i.+rt. Jase pointed frantically toward the kitchen, and Cole sprinted away.
"Calm down, Jase," Maia added, taking his hand. "It's going to be all right. We're all going to be fine."
Cole was back, handing the boy the inhaler and watching with a slight frown on his face as Jase used it.
"Next time, don't be fixing my problems until you're safe, Jase. I should have been watching you more carefully."
Jase took a deep breath and smiled at his brother. "Someone has to look after you and Maia. You're really not all that good with the women, Cole. I know more than you do about romance. And you'd better smile at hera lot ."
Maia laughed. The sound filled Cole with joy. He looked around the house. His home. It belonged to them now. Maia, Jase, and Cole. It was their home. The fire burned brightly and filled the room with warmth and comfort. The Christmas tree filled it with fragrance.
"You know, Jase," Cole said. "I think Christmas is going to be our favorite holiday."
"I think you're right," Jase said with complete satisfaction.
The two brothers looked at Maia, and she threw her arms around them. "I knew you'd see it my way,"
she said happily.
epilogue.
FOUR YEARS LATER.Cole sat in his parked truck watching the people hurry along the streets, carrying brightly wrapped packages and waving cheerfully to one another. The stores were heavily decorated, as were the streetlights and even one or two of the trees in front of the shops. The tall fir in front of the veterinarian clinic was a masterpiece, with lights and ornaments and a blazing star on the top, courtesy of Maia.
He could hear music blaring out of the d.i.n.k, a wild rendition of "Jingle Bells." That was so like Maia. The clinic was closed, but people were going in and out carrying boxes of food and presents to cars. As always, she headed up the drive to take dinners and gifts to the less fortunate, and she'd managed to rally quite a crew to help her.
He couldn't wait to see her, to watch the way her eyes lit up when she first saw him, to see her smile blossom and hear her laughter. He ached to hold her, to feel her skin against his and he could already taste her kiss. Sometimes, when he was away from her, he woke up with the taste of her in his mouth.
He'd been gone two months this time. It was the longest they'd ever been apart, and he'd felt every second of the separation. He'd never stay away that long again. He needed his family far more than he needed the outlet of his undercover work. He would still continue it, but he would not take a job where he would be separated from them for so long. He'd learned, in his long absence, that they were his balance and sanity.
A part of him was afraid of his welcome. Afraid that smile, the light in Maia's eyes wouldn't be there for him this time. His hands gripped the steering wheel, thinking about losing her, losing what he had because he could never quite rid himself of the demons that plagued him his entire life.
He heard laughter and turned his head to see the two little girls running up the street, clutching at Jase's hands, dragging him toward the clinic. Their dark hair, so like his, was s.h.i.+ny and bobbed as they ran. His three-year-old twin daughters had Maia's deep blue-green eyes and her smile. He loved the sound of their laughter. He still couldn't believe he had daughters. Beautiful twins who climbed all over him and kissed him every chance they got. Maia had given him that gift.
Observing Jase with his daughters brought a lump to his throat. His brother had grown into everything he'd hoped. He was tall and strong, his gangly frame filled out. He carried himself with confidence. The shadows that had always been present in his eyes were replaced with contentment. He had friends and did extraordinarily well in school. Maia had managed that as well. She'd had him working daily in the clinic with her, taking him on ranch calls and teaching him her craft, encouraging him in school and, more importantly, bringing him a sense of family.
Cole slid from the truck, knowing he was going to have to go in and face his fate. Unlike Jase, he knew he would never be rid of the past. He would awaken in a cold sweat, Maia in his arms, her voice soothing, her body soft and inviting, always ready to take away the nightmares. He loved her so much he ached with it, yet he couldn't always stay. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Maia always saw the demons growing in him.
It was always Maia who put her arms around him and told him to go. "It's okay," she would whisper, kissing her way up his back to the nape of his neck. "Do what you have to do and come back to us." She never cried, and she never chastised him or made him feel guilty. She was Maia, offering him freedom with love in her eyes. And he always returned because he couldn't live without her.
But as he opened the door to the clinic, his heart pounded with fear. If she rejected him, his life was over. He knew that, knew he needed her more than most men needed their wife and lover. She gave him acceptance and understanding when he didn't have it himself. She taught her daughters that same acceptance and understanding of his shortcomings, and she'd taught it to Jase.
The music greeted him as the door swung open. Someone b.u.mped into him, laughed, and called out a merry Christmas. He just kept walking through the outer office, down the decorated hall to the back room, where the operation of fining boxes was taking place. Dread was growing, a dark ugly feeling he couldn't stop. All around him were the signs of Christmas, of happiness overflowing. He walked with confidence, but deep inside, where no one saw, he was screaming inside.
"Daddy!" Ashley screamed his name and rushed him, a small dynamo, throwing her arms around one leg, effectively stopping him.
Mary cried out and followed her twin, twining her arms around the other leg.
Cole reached down for them, his heart nearly bursting as he picked the girls up and settled them on his hips, kissing them over and over, but all the time his attention was on her. On Maia. He heard Jase's greeting. Felt the boy clap him on the back, and he returned the awkward hug. But it was Maia he watched. Maia he waited for.
She turned slowly, as if she were afraid to believe it was true. Her gaze settled on his face. He held his breath. There it was. That slow smile of joy that lit up her eyes, brightened her face. Tears s.h.i.+mmered.
The tears that were never there when he left but always there when he returned.
"You're home."
He handed the twins to Jase. "I'm home." He gathered her into his arms and found her mouth with his.
She fit dose to him, her arms winding tightly around his neck, her mouth every bit as demanding as his.
He tasted her sweetness. He tasted acceptance. Desire. Most of all he tasted love. He felt weak with joy, with relief. Maia was his rock, his foundation. His very life.
"Get a room." Jase and the twins chimed in together, something they did often around Maia and Cole.
Maia laughed, resting her head on Cole's chest. "You made it home for Christmas."
"I'd never miss Christmas. Did you put up the tree already?" He held his breath again. It was silly to want to choose the tree, not when there were only three days left.
"We never break tradition," Jase answered. "It wouldn't be the same without you."
Maia just burrowed closer to him, her arms sliding around his waist. Cole looked at his brother over her head, and they smiled. They had a home. A family. And they had love. If that wasn't a Christmas miracle, nothing was.
A TOUCH OF HARRY.
Susan Sizemore
dedication.
For Matthew Krause, who introduced me to Mission Wolf.
chapter 1.
"Was that a coyote?"
"Coyotes don't come in black," Marj Piper answered the man in the seat beside her, as the ghostly dark form disappeared from the blaze of her headlights. "That thing isfast !"
She followed the creature's movements across the moonlit Arizona desert before darkness completely swallowed it. It was some kind of dog; its outline was beautiful and sleek.
"Marj! Look out!"
She swung her gaze forward, just in time to slam on the brakes as another large animal raced in front of her truck.
This creature was as black as the first, but much larger and more muscular, with denser fur. As the animal gave a quick glance toward the headlights, its eyes glowed with a blue sheen. It bared its fangs in a snarl, then bounded away, following the other animal almost faster than the eye could see.
"That's a wolf!" Patrick shouted.
"Yeah," she agreed, her heart hammering in her chest. "That was a wolf."
In the backseat of the cab, her chocolate Lab, Taffy, lifted his head and whimpered his agreement.
Marj drove the truck at a near crawl as the hard-packed dirt road ascended a steep, curving hill. The first animal had been terrified. The wolf had been furious. And it hadlooked at her, almost in outrage, as if it was demanding that shehelp .
Help with what?
Pat touched her arm. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine."
Reverend Patrick Muller was new to Kennedyville, and Man was giving him a ride home from a dinner party where friends had tried to hook them up. She supposed Alice meant well in trying to draw her out of the sh.e.l.l she'd been in since her father died. She wasn't sure she really appreciated it, though.
The one person who'd understood her was gone, and it would take a miracle to cure the loneliness that had closed in when he was gone. Still, because Alice had accused her of trying to be a Scrooge and ignore the Christmas season, she had made the effort to be sociable through dinner at Alice's house. It had drained her incredibly, and she was glad to be heading home.
Reverend Pat was nice; he'd made intelligent conversation over dinner, even persuaded her to partic.i.p.ate in a charity function at the high school in a couple of days. And he wasn't at all bad-looking.
No doubt he was going to be an a.s.set to the community.
As agreeable as he was, though, she certainly wasn't going to tell him about her "special" ability.
When she was a kid, she'd a.s.sumed everybody could do it. It had taken her painful years to realize that it was anything but normal, and to learn to control it. It had taken even more years to learn how to hide it from the rest of the world. Most of the time.
"I can't believe I almost hit a couple of animals," she told Pat, after she'd been silent maybe a little too long.
"They ran in front of the truck. It wouldn't have been your fault," he said comfortingly.
"But the animals would still be dead." The truck was laboring up the steep rise, and she put her foot on the gas.
"And we could have been injured, as well. Even as large as this truck is, hitting something as big as that wolf could have caused a lot of damage."
They rounded the curve and reached the top of the hill, and all h.e.l.l broke loose.
There was a big white van parked sideways across the road, its headlights s.h.i.+ning out onto the landscape. A pair of men stood in front of the van. One held a rifle up to his shoulder and fired twice, just as the second man saw Marj's truck.
She slammed on the brakes and came to a stop inches from the van, just as a wave of pain hit Marj in the back.
NO! Run! Save yourself!
Her spine arched, and dizziness shot through her, even as the wolf's voice inside her head faded.
She might have fallen forward, unconscious across the steering wheel, if Patrick hadn't grabbed her by the arm and shook her. She heard his concerned voice. She couldn't respond to it, but she did react to Taffy's barking in her ear and the nudge of his wet nose on the back of her neck.
That was her, all right. She didn't respond much to people, but animals...
There were animals in trouble out there. One was terrified, the other was hurt.
Can't move. Getting dark.
Marj knew she had todo something, but for a moment she had no idea where she was.
As she looked up, the second man grabbed the shooter by the arm. He shouted something, and pointed at them. The man with the weapon whirled around, the rifle still poised on his shoulder.
For a second, she thought she was going to be shot again.Again ?
But the other man grabbed the shooter's arm and pushed him toward the van's open sliding door. The second man got into the driver's seat and barely took the time to slam the door before he roared off up the road.
Marj was out of the truck before the van's taillights disappeared around the next curve. Taffy jumped out after her. It was a few seconds before Pat Muller followed. She was pacing along the rocky edge of the road by the time he reached her, Taffy trotting beside her, his nose to the ground.
"What are you doing?" Pat asked. "I don't think it's safe to be out here." He plucked at the sleeve of her shearling jacket. "That man was shooting at something."
"Not us," she answered.
"What if they come back?"
Marj stared off into the cold, clear December night. "There's something out there."
Pat peered into the darkness, then looked worriedly at her. "What?"
"Whatever he was shooting at."
He'd hit it, too. She'd felt it; more than felt it, for a moment. She'dbeen the animal. Its thoughts had been hers. The awareness had been so strong that, for the first time in her life, the emotions and images she normally picked up had been experienced as words. Words from a- "The wolf!" Pat exclaimed. "He must have been shooting at the wolf."
"Yeah."
Pat rubbed his jaw. "Maybe they were trying to shoot it as a protective measure. It wouldn't be good for a wolf to be running loose in the desert."