Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) (31 page)

BOOK: Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel)
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I laughed. “Harry, you have to take a number on that one. Our buddy Palmer at Tractor Supply already gave Mark the same warning.”

“Good.
Means he’s outnumbered if it comes to a fight.”

I laughed again and backed down the driveway.

Back at the house, I noted the presence of the clean-up service. It was, apparently, a job for a Hazardous Materials disposal unit to come and remove the animal remains. Studiously avoiding the sight of the men and women working to sort through the burned-out wreck, I walked into the house through the back door. Soon after my return home my insurance agent arrived, and I recounted the last 36 hours for him, as well as compiled a list of the tools and other items of value that had been in the barn, including the animals.

After the insurance agent had gone, I retreated to my office, thinking that I might as well get some work done. I’m not sure, though, how long I sat in front of the computer without even turning it on before Mark came to find me.

He knelt beside me and put his arms around me, saying nothing, just giving me my space to think. Problem was…I couldn’t.

“I can’t think,” I said aloud. “I can’t seem to connect any one thought to another. I can’t seem to get past this feeling of numbness. I’m numb and I’m angry and I just…I can’t think. I don’t
want
to think, because then I will start thinking about how frightened the animals must have been, trapped in the barn with the fire, and the loft crashing down on them. I keep thinking that Angus, at least, ought to have gotten out, so why didn’t he?”

“We’ll figure this out, Saphrona,” Mark told me. “Whoever did this will be caught. We’ll build a new barn. We’ll get some more animals if you want them. I promise you, honey, we
will
get past this.”

I tilted my head so it was lying on top of his. “Nobody likes to feel like they’re not in control of their own life,” I said. “And that’s how I feel right now. Like my life isn’t even my own, that someone else is calling the shots. And that really makes me mad, but I’ve got nowhere and no one at whom to direct that anger. And I am afraid that what happened this morning will happen again if I can’t find some way of channeling it.”

I pulled away and stood, pacing away from him. “You know, it strikes me as a wise idea for you and your sister to get as far away from me as you possibly can, so you’re not caught up in the chaos. I don’t want you to regret answering that ad.”

Mark stood and walked over to me, taking me by the arms and giving me a little shake. “Saphrona, that’s enough. I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that—I could never regret making that phone call. I could never regret meeting you. We’re soulmates, remember?”

“But Mark, everything is such a mess now—
I’m
a mess. That which has not killed me doesn’t seem to be making me any stronger,” I said weakly.

“You know,” he said, drawing me to him and wrapping his arms around me. “My fellow
Marine
snipers and I have an unofficial motto we adopted: ‘That which does not kill me has never taken basic marksmanship.’”

I chuckled. “General Martok said that on an episode of
Deep Space Nine
.”

Mark seemed surprised by my knowledge of the
Star Trek
origin of the quote. “Still absolutely true, though.” After kissing my brow, he held me away from him.
“Okay, how about this one? ‘
That which does not kill me had better run damn fast.’”

I smiled. “That’s a good one, too. In fact, I think I rather like that one.”

As we were heading out of the office a moment later there was a knock on the back door. One of the clean-up crew had come to have me sign some forms. With a sigh, I took the clipboard he handed me and signed my name.

“By the way, ma’am,” the man said as he was stepping back down the stoop. “Your husband here said that there should be six cows, right?”

I glanced at Mark over my shoulder, standing behind me with an innocent expression on his face. I didn’t bother correcting the other man’s assumption, just turned back to him and said, “Yes, there should have been six cows, ten pigs, and twelve chickens.”

“Well, we only found five bodies that would fit the size of a cow. Don’t suppose you had a bull, did you?”

I nodded, a bright feeling stirring in my chest. It was possibly futile, but it was still a glimmer of hope.

“Yes, there was a bull,” I answered. “He had horns, small ones that I kept trimmed for safety reasons.”

“Well, at risk of sounding indelicate, none of the carcasses we found had horns, ma’am. Might be your bull broke himself out like the horses did. My suggestion would be to go searching these woods for him.”

I smiled slightly and nodded. “Thank you.”

He nodded and headed over to the large vehicle he and his crew had come in, and they left. But just moments after they had gone and Mark and I had turned back into the house, another truck came ambling up the driveway—two of them, in fact, for one carried a dumpster-like crate with the Waste Management symbol on the side, and the other what looked like a backhoe on its flatbed.

When the crew’s foreman came to have me sign some paperwork, I expressed my thanks for his getting there so soon.

“Well, Ms. Caldwell, my granddaddy had a farm,” he said, turning to watch as the backhoe, which had one of those clamshell scoops on one end, was being unloaded. “It’s a shame what happened here. Say, would it be too much trouble to get one of you to move that fine truck there, give us some room? I know it’s a nice, wide drive, but it would help.”

I nodded, and Mark went to retrieve the keys to my truck. “I’ll go park it in the front yard for now,” he said as he moved past me.

“And I’m gonna go look around for Angus,” I said, stepping down the stoop behind him as the foreman went to have a word with his crew.

Mark looked back at me and nodded, then climbed into my truck and started it, backing down the drive. I trotted across the driveway and headed into the woods, stopping a few feet in to sniff the air. The smell of the burned-out barn and animal carcasses still lingered, so I knew I was going to have to go deeper.

I looked all around me as I walked into the woods, looking for any sign that Angus had come this way. I was definitely subscribing to the theory that the horses had been set free before the fire had been started—otherwise, why hadn’t Angus gone off with them? The bull knew those horses very well, was even somewhat protective of them: I could recall more than one occasion in the years I’d had him that Angus had bellowed in protest when one of the horses acted frightened. But he hadn’t been with the horses when the Mitchell boys had found them and he hadn’t been in the ruin of the barn, which could only mean he’d escaped on his own.

As I roamed my eyes about
I
also sniffed the air every so often. The further I got away from the house, the clearer the air was, and the easier I could separate the different smells that assailed my nose. I could smell the trees, the leaves on the ground, small animals that roamed…and then I caught something else. It was faint and off to my left, but it was a smell that was familiar to me, and so I turned toward it and began to walk faster. The farther I walked the stronger the scent trail, and the more excited I became that one more of my animals had survived. Of course, I didn’t know what I would do with Angus seeing as I had no barn for him to sleep in, and I hated to impose
on Harry more than I already was.

My sharpened hearing picked up an out of place noise up ahead, and I quickened my pace. In moments I came within sight of Angus, and the closer I came, the more of him I could see and smell. He’d been injured during his escape, though I could not tell from this distance how badly. And he was mad—this I knew from the wild, wide-eyed look he turned to me when he finally heard me, and the restless stamping of his feet. I stopped immediately but this did not appease the bull; he snorted loudly and thundered toward me. But I knew better than to run. I stayed my ground until he was almost near, and then pivoted out of his way and spun to face him.

Angus came up short and turned around, coming at me again with his head down low in the charge position. Once again I sidestepped and turned out of his path, and though I knew he was injured I was actually feeling kind of proud of the big brute. He’d lived through hell and hurt himself in the process of his escape, had spent the night alone in unfamiliar surroundings, and still he had enough stamina to fight what he perceived to be an enemy. As soon as I wore him out enough to get close, I was going to give him a great big hug.

I felt like a bullfighter in an arena, waiting for Angus to charge and then spinning out of the way in the nick of time again and again, but eventually he tired. When at last he stood still, his chest heaving with exertion, I held my hands casually at my sides as I approached him and spoke with my voice low and soothing. Given enough time, I knew that Angus would remember me, and that some of his fear and anger would subside. Coming up to his side, I could now see where and how he’d been injured—some piece of the barn must have fallen and seared his right flank, leaving a horrible looking burn that was now scabbed over in places. With a hand laid gently on his back, I continued to speak softly as I leaned close to sniff it, detecting what I had suspected I would find: the wound was infected. When I got him to a barn, I was going to have to soften up the scabbed parts enough to remove all of the seared flesh before I could clean it properly.

Anger shot through me again as I evaluated Angus’ burn, then slowly checked him over from back to front for any other injuries. He had minor cuts on his front legs and chest from his mad dash through the woods, and a cut on his forehead just below his horns, likely from when he had broken through the gate to his stall. I held onto his halter and stroked his nose like I had done countless times before, reassuring the bull that he was okay and no longer had anything to fear. After several minutes of this, his wide, frightened eyes relaxed, his breathing slowed to normal, and I felt secure enough to start guiding him home.

When we drew closer to the house Angus grew agitated again, but thankfully he didn’t fight me as I led him out of the woods and past the burned-out barn. I guided him through the small paddock and over to the first pasture, and was securing the gate behind him when I was joined by Mark.

“I see you found him,” he said, leaning against the railing as I was. “How’s he doing?”

“He was angry and frightened, naturally. I had to dance with him a little, but all is well,” I replied.

“What do you mean dance with him? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

I glanced over. “He charged a bunch of times, but Angus never touched me. I’m fine. Remember, I’m a lot faster than he is. I just had to wear him out before I could even get close to him. He’s got a nasty burn on his right flank that needs to be cleaned and medicated, and he’s in desperate need of water, I suspect. But other than that I think he’ll be okay.”

Mark reached his arm over to place it around my shoulders. “A little bit more good news for you. I’m glad he made it.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder as I asked, “How’s the clean up coming? I see they’ve actually managed to clear quite a bit.”

“Yeah.
Foreman thinks they might just get it all in one load, seeing as the barn wasn’t near as big as the house.” He drew a breath. “Your, uh, dad called again. Said he was calling to make sure you were all right, and wanted to make sure it was okay if he came by.”

I scoffed. “I’m surprised. Usually Diarmid just does whatever the hell he wants.”

“I gathered that myself,” Mark mused. “I told him how you were out looking for Angus and that I could not speak for you, but you hadn’t said anything about him not being welcome when Juliette told you earlier he was planning to come by, so I could only assume you were okay with it.”

“Like I said, he usually does whatever he wants. I figured there was no point in telling him to stay away.”

With a sigh, I turned around and started back toward the house. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to call Harry and see if he’s got room for Angus, because I don’t know what else to do with him; once that burn of his is cleaned and dressed it won’t be good for him to be outside, or I’d leave him where he is.”

“I’ve been wondering
,
did you see him when you went over there earlier?” Mark asked as we were passing the workers.

I nodded.
“Yeah.
He confirmed your suspicions, asking how serious we were and confessing that he’d have liked to have something with me. But he is pleased that I am happy, and he threw his hat in with Palmer—said if you’re not good to me, you’ve got him to answer to.”

Mark laughed. “I have been duly warned,” he said with a smile, opening the back door for me.

In the kitchen I noticed four glasses in the sink, and turned a curious eye over to Mark. “What’s this?”

He shrugged. “The guys out there took a break, and I offered them some water.”

“Oh. It was good of you to be so polite in my absence,” I said with a smile, walking over to the phone on the wall. I dialed Harry’s house and got Billy, who had to put the phone down and go out to the barn to fetch his dad.

“Hey darlin,’ what’s up?” he said when he came on the line.

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