EDGE (41 page)

“Sergei, will you hold her ankle? Since she won’t deaden the pain, I don’t want her jerking her leg while I sew it up.”

“I’m not going to j-jerk my leg,” Mel whispered, her limbs shaking.

Linnet ignored her and instructed Sergei. He knelt on the floor and held Mel’s ankle, then paled as Linnet threaded her needle. “Vait!” He jumped to his feet and rushed out of the room to return seconds later with the bottle of vodka. “She might not need to deaden, but I do.” He unscrewed the top and, lifting the bottle to his lips, gulped down a healthy swallow. His eyes watered as he recapped the bottle, set it on the night table, and returned to the bed where he retook his spot.

“Are you ready now?” Linnet asked Sergei, her brows arched.

Sergei nodded. “For now. Might need another drink later. I vill see how I do.”

Linnet shook her head and then looked at Mel. “This is going to pinch.”

“G-get it over with,” Mel said, through clenched teeth.

Before Linnet could start, Garrett entered. “What’s the verdict?”

“I’ve got it under control for now,” Linnet said. “Leave a satellite phone or something to reach you in case we need help later.”

“Already done. The girl, Emily, has it. We’ve loaded the elderly couple and Nicole into the chopper. I’ll be back for statements later.” He paused and then arrowed a look at Cache. “Take good care of her.” Then he was gone.

The helicopter lifting off was an ominous sound to the tense silence.

Linnet went to work. The first piercing of the needle into Mel’s flesh had her sucking in her breath. Cache tightened his arms around her while Sergei swore in Russian. Mel grabbed Cache’s hand and held on but didn’t say a word. No screaming, crying, or cursing. He wished she’d do any of the three. Instead, she held it together until Linnet started on the last of the four wounds, then her body went limp in his arms and he gave a prayer of thanks that she’d finally passed out.

“About time,” Linnet muttered as she concentrated on making tiny neat stitches. “Damn stubborn girl.”

“Never have I seen such a voman,” Sergei commented. “She has, how you say, big cojones.”

Cache gazed down at Mel’s unconscious face. “Yes, that she does.” He ran a finger down her cheek. She didn’t look restful, rather spent. Today was too much.

A full day even by Alaskan standards.

Linnet finished sewing up Mel’s leg and then moved to her shoulder. The little cut on her hip got the superglue treatment. They were then covered with bandages. Cache mentioned the head injury and Linnet swore. “Damn it. What wasn’t done to my poor girl?” She cleaned the bump on the back of her head. It didn’t seem to require stitches.

“She’s on bed rest. I don’t want the chance of her ripping my handiwork. I’ll give the doc over in Homer a shout and have Garrett bring back some antibiotics.” She closed the lid to the first aid kit and looked at Cache. “You sleeping in here or her bed?”

“I’ll stay and watch over her.”

“Good. I’ll check on the kids and David. Damn, I need a cigarette.” Linnet stood, her shoulders stooped.

“I think I’ll join you,” Sergei said.

After they left, Cache pulled the covers over Mel and carefully tucked them around her. Then he moved a chair, placing it next to the bed, so he could watch over her as she slept.

He rubbed his eyes and knew he was never going to get the image of Mel being attacked by that brown bear out of his mind. Scared didn’t even begin to describe what he’d felt at that moment. Or the deep seated fear when he’d known Jed had her in his clutches.

Funny, how a month ago, he hadn’t known how he was going to go on living with Hank and Sarah dead. Now, he knew his life would truly have been over if Mel had died today.

He picked up her limp hand and held it in his, rubbing his lips across her fingers. On a tortured breath, he whispered, “What am I going to do with you?”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
E
IGHT

Mel woke to a throbbing head, fire burning in her leg and shoulder, and aches everywhere else. She was also in Cache’s bed wearing one of his shirts. Just what kind of sex had they had last night?

Then, she remembered.

Lupine poisoning, Jed, the mama bear and her cubs.

Damn, she hurt. She also needed to visit the bathroom. Gingerly, she pulled the covers back with her good arm and looked down at her leg. Stark white bandages covered the worst of the wounds, which she was supremely grateful for. She didn’t care to look at the damage any time soon.

More scars.

At the rate she was going, by the time she left this earth she’d be nothing but a bundle of scar tissue. What with Dawson’s slicing her up and leaving her for dead, his son taking a stab, and now being mauled by a bear. She wasn’t even counting the unseen ones.

The vodka bottle sitting on the night table shone like a beacon of deliverance. She remembered Sergei drinking from it last night.

So nice of him to leave it.

What she wouldn’t give to escape into that liquid haven again.

Her hand reached of its own accord and cupped the bottle like a lover’s face who’d recently returned from a long, hard trip. She laid her cheek against the label. Cool, smooth glass soothed her fevered skin.

One drink and her troubles would be over. One drink and her pain would be a memory.

You don’t control it, it controls you.

Damn, AA.

She pulled the bottle back and gazed at it with longing. If only she could have a tiny medicinal sip. It could make her life so much simpler.

Or fuck it up completely.

“You want some orange juice to go with that?” Cache asked from the doorway. His hands were full, carrying a breakfast tray loaded with pancakes, bacon and eggs, and a glass of orange juice.

“How long have you been standing there?” She narrowed her eyes. Did the man have some sort of radar?

“Long enough.” He walked farther into the room and set the tray down on the bed. “You want to hand me that?”

No. “I wasn’t going to take a drink,” she mumbled, not really sure if she’d been about to or not.

“Why don’t I take it anyway? In case you change your mind.” He reached for the bottle, and she instinctively cradled it against her chest. Cache paused with his hand out. “Mel, you’re stronger than this.”

She sighed and handed over the bottle, following it with her eyes as Cache took it and set it out of reach. She really wouldn’t have taken a drink—she hoped—but she’d liked to have held the bottle a little longer. As silly as it seemed, its shape was comforting.

Cache picked up the tray. “How about some breakfast?”

“How about a potty visit?” She couldn’t help smile just a little at his blank look, holding the tray suspended as though he had no idea what to do next.

“Uh…I’ll get—”

“Just give me a hand to the bathroom, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“You sure?”

“So sure that if we don’t get a move on, this bed will need a change of sheets.”

“Right. Okay.” He sat the tray back on the bed, came over to her side, and made to pick her up.

She leaned back. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you to the bathroom.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Linnet’s orders were for you not to walk. She doesn’t want you tearing her stitches.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m to be carried everywhere. Just help me up.”

He sighed. “You’re a stubborn woman.”

“Wow, you’re really observant for a journalist.”

His lips compressed into a thin line.

He silently helped her to the bathroom, and she took care of business with a minimal amount of swearing. She brushed her teeth and stared at her haggard reflection. She’d looked better.

When she opened the door, Cache was there leaning against the wall of the hallway. “Want to check on Rinka before you lay back down?”

She nodded since she couldn’t speak past the emotion that suddenly swamped her. She’d truly believed Jed had killed Rinka.

Cache helped her into her bedroom, and there was Rinka, lying on an army blanket in a large cardboard box, nursing her litter of pups. She gave Mel a welcoming “woof” that had a slight, “where the hell have you been?” tone attached to it.

“Hell’s bells. There are so many.” She wanted to kneel down and touch each one, but the attempt was physically beyond her right now. Cache tightened his hold on her.

“You’ll be able to get to know them soon enough.”

“What am I going to do with seven puppies?”

“First thing to work on are names. You’ll figure out the rest later.”

Another look at the new members of her misfit family, and then Cache insisted she get off her feet. He helped her to the couch in the great room when she objected to lying in his bed. He must have figured she’d do that because on the couch, he’d thoughtfully laid out blankets and pillows when she’d been in the bathroom.

She settled in as best she could—every part of her body ached—while Cache carefully tucked a blanket around her. She groaned when he laid the forgotten tray of food across her lap. The last thing she wanted to do was eat.

“Linnet told me not to return without an empty tray.” Cache planted himself in the armchair across from her.

She grunted. There were ways of emptying a tray without eating everything on it. She had a visual of Cache wearing scrambled eggs in his hair with orange juice dripping off his chin. She picked up her fork before she gave into the urge.

“I want you to go to Homer today and see a doctor.”

Mel paused with the fork halfway to her mouth and looked at him from under her lashes. “No.”

“Mel, you were stabbed by a psychopath and mauled by a bear. I can’t even imagine the germs the bear carried, not to mention Jed. You could be infected right now.”

“You probably have more germs than that bear.” She lost her appetite at the mention of Jed and the brown bear in the same sentence.

“You’re being stupid.”

She deliberately set her fork on her plate. “Stupid?”

Cache closed his eyes and then reopened them. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

She arched a disbelieving brow.

He rubbed his temples. “Damn, but you frustrate me.”

“Just because I won’t do what you want me to do.” This wasn’t just about her not wanting to see a doctor.

He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and tented his fingers. “I’m worried. I felt the heat of your fever when I touched you.”

“It’s low grade and the body’s natural defenses are kicking in. So, nothing to worry about.” She took another bite of eggs. They were cold and tough to swallow. “Besides, I’m not your concern.”

That seemed to snap the thread holding him together. He stood and towered over her. “Don’t tell me you aren’t my concern.
You
are all I’m concerned about.” He waved his arms out to the sides. “Everything in my life is about
you
. Don’t look away from me because you don’t want to hear how I feel.” Cache paused as though to add wind to his bellows. “I need to know you’re not going to get gangrene and your leg isn’t going to fall off and you end up dead because you’re too stubborn to see a
goddamn doctor
.”

She was going to do it. She was going to throw her food at him. “I don’t have to answer to you or anyone. I singly make my own decisions according to what
I
want and not what someone
else
wants me to do. Those days are over. If I end up with gangrene and die then you have the right to stand over my grave and say, I told you so. Until then, leave me the hell alone.”

“Gladly.” Cache’s exit was stopped by Linnet entering the room.

“Uh, guys,” Linnet said. “Might want to put a cap on it. Garrett’s here.”

Mel hadn’t heard the sounds of the chopper.

Suddenly the room was overrun with people. David, who seemed to be in full health after his bout with lupine, helped a pale Nicole into the room right before three excited kids and a stoic Garrett dressed in his trooper blues.

Mel hadn’t even asked how everyone was doing. Too concerned with herself and fighting with Cache. Suddenly she wanted to cry. She’d failed in so many areas. “Nicole, how do you feel?” she asked.

“Fine.” She stared at Mel. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Nicole tightened her mouth as though expecting that response, but wished for more.

“The Whitneys? How are they?”

“Much better,” she said. “They should be released from the hospital tomorrow.”

Mel breathed a sigh of relief. She’d have to talk to Linnet about offering David and the Whitneys a refund or discount on a return trip. They sure hadn’t signed up for the kind of Alaskan vacation they’d ended up with.

Garrett had stood to the side while Mel had gotten caught up. Now he stepped forward, and the room hushed. “I need a moment with Mel. Calder, you too.”