The Search (15 page)

"John won't like it. He told me to take care of you. How can I take care of you if you're miles away?"

"I don't need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself." She bent down and stroked Monty's head. "He's hurt and he needs to be in familiar surroundings."

"John won't like it," Margaret repeated.

"Do you get a car for me, or do I do it myself?"

"I'll do it." Margaret sighed. "But you're making my job very difficult."

"I think you'll bear up. You don't seem very intimidated by Logan."

"We've been together a long time. Familiarity generally casts out fear, but I do have a healthy respect for him."

Sarah studied her. "And you like him."

"Hell, yes. He's tough, but he's always been fair with me. And if life gets a little complicated around him, at least it's not boring." She went to the telephone. "I'll call one of the security men on the grounds and tell him to bring a car around front. Sure you don't want to have lunch before you leave?"

"I'm sure." She listened to Margaret put through the call. In a few minutes she'd be on her way back to the life she loved best--silence, simplicity, and serenity. Let Logan spin his complicated webs around someone else. She was going home.

Chapter 6.

The howl was eerily exquisite floating on the still night air.

Monty lifted his head. Beautiful.

"It looks like our wolf is still around." Sarah knelt to pour vitamins into Monty's food. "I hoped it would be gone by the time we got back."

Hungry?

"Maybe. Those Mexican gray wolves have had a pretty rough time since they were released. Eat your dinner."

Monty nosed the bowl away from him. Hungry.

"You need to eat. You're not going to heal without food, and you can't save that wolf by starving yourself."

Monty stretched out beside the untouched food bowl. Hungry.

The wolf howled again.

"Shut up," Sarah muttered. "Do you want those ranchers to come looking for you? Your best bet is to keep a low profile and--"

Hungry.

"That wolf is a hundred times better equipped than you to find food in the wild."

Sad. Alone.

The wolf shouldn't be this far east. He might well be alone, separated from his pack. "We can't help. They were released to make their way in the world." She sat down at the table and started to eat the stew she'd just heated. "See, I'm not worried. Now eat your dinner." She glanced over her shoulder and saw him staring at the door. "No, we are not going out to try to find--"

A knock.

She stiffened as the door swung open.

"Sorry." Logan was leaning against the jamb, his face pale, a small suitcase at his feet. "Do you mind if I come in? I think I need to sit down."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sarah jumped to her feet and ran over to the door. She slung his arm around her shoulders and helped him to the easy chair in front of the fire. "Idiot. They just operated on you this afternoon. Are you trying to break open those stitches?"

"You promised me you'd stay. I woke up and you were gone." He settled back in the chair and closed his eyes. "So I came here."

She got a hassock from across the room and lifted his leg to rest on it. "Who brought you?"

"Margaret. I told her to drop me off and leave."

"I bet she loved that."

He smiled faintly. "Oh, you've gotten to know Margaret. She wasn't pleased."

"Neither am I. What are you doing here?"

"I decided I needed a little rest and seclusion. You have lots of that here."

She blinked. "What?"

"You have a couch." His voice was slurred. "I can sleep there."

"You're not making sense."

"I'm not? I'm a little fuzzy right now. Must be the medication the doctor gave me. I'm trying to ask you to either come back to the house or let me stay here."

"I'm not coming back and you cannot stay here. You can get all the seclusion you want in your house in Phoenix."

"It's not only--I promised you I'd deal with Madden for you."

"Yes, you did, and I'm holding you to it, but you didn't have to get out of a sickbed. And you didn't need to come here. Madden's not been here since the day I threw him out."

"Like you want to throw me out."

"Right."

"Safer. I'm--responsible."

"You're mumbling. I can't understand you."

"I don't mumble." Logan opened his eyes as Monty put his head against his hand. "Hello, boy. I'm glad someone is rolling out the welcome mat."

"Don't be flattered. Five minutes ago he wanted to roll out the same mat for a wolf."

"Wolf? I heard him when I was in the car. Beautiful . . ."

"Not you too?" She turned away and reached for the telephone. "What's Margaret's cell phone number? I'll call and tell her to turn around and come back for you."

He shook his head. "I told her not to pay any attention. You're . . . stuck . . . with me."

"The hell I am. I'll call an ambulance and have them-- Dammit, listen to me."

"Sorry." His eyes had closed again. "Tired . . ."

He was asleep.

"Logan!"

No answer. He was probably so heavily drugged, it was a wonder he had been able to stir himself to come here. No, not really a wonder. She knew how determined Logan could be.

But why had he been so determined to come here? Well, it would do no good to fret about reasons, when his presence was an accomplished fact. It would serve him right if she shipped him back to Phoenix in an ambulance.

Monty mournfully looked at her.

"Okay, okay, we'll let him stay until he wakes up. Maybe it will take your mind off that blasted wolf."

Monty settled down beside the chair.

She sighed in exasperation as she brought Logan's bag inside, then she lay down on the couch. She had thought she was done with him. Yet here he was again, only hours later, and she was sleeping on this lumpy couch instead of in her comfortable bed to make sure the idiot didn't thrash around and hurt himself.

"Wake up."

Logan was dimly aware that Sarah was shaking him.

"Dammit, wake up."

He fought his way through the fog of sleep and opened his eyes. The cabin. She wanted him to go. . . . "I'm staying."

"And I'm leaving. So call Margaret and tell her to come get you."

"What?" He sat up in the chair as he realized she was shrugging on her jacket. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Taiwan. They've had torrential rains for the past two weeks. A mudslide just buried a village. They think the fatalities are going to mount to over five hundred." She crossed to the kitchen counter and poured steaming coffee into a thermos. "God, I hate mudslides. The chances of pulling anyone out alive are so slim, they may as well be nonexistent. They're death searches, not life searches."

"Then why are you going?"

"Hundreds of people are buried underneath that damn sludge. Maybe Monty and I can cut that number down by a few."

"How did you find out about this slide?"

"Helen Peabody, our rescue group's coordinator, called ten minutes ago. You were so zonked, you didn't even hear the phone."

"You're dead tired. You have no business going anywhere."

"It's my job. It's a long flight. I'll be able to rest on the plane."

"What plane?"

"Helen is calling around now to see who'll lend us a plane and pilot. She'll get them." She tucked the thermos into her duffel. "Now, get on the phone and call Margaret."

"What about Monty? He's been wounded. You were so concerned about him and yet you're willing to take him on a rescue like this?"

"It's his job too. He's sore but he'll make it. If I see he's hurting too much, I'll pull him."

"I never thought you'd be that tough on Monty. You're crazy about that dog."

"If there's a chance of saving anyone, neither Monty nor I have any right to hold back. We've been hurt before and gotten through it." She reached in the cabinet, got Monty's vitamins, and threw them in the duffel. "We'll be there for only a few days. After that we'll let the other teams take over the search. Monty's had enough death for a while after Barat."

"What about you? Haven't you had enough?"

"Oh, yes." She turned away and wearily arched her back. "I've had enough. But it just keeps coming."

"Did you ever think about saying no?"

"How can I say no when there's someone waiting for help?"

"I guess you can't." He should argue with her, but he was having trouble thinking. He shook his head to clear it. "Taiwan. Where in Taiwan?"

"A place called Kai Chi. Do you want some coffee?"

"No, thanks."

"Are you sure? You look like you could use it."

"Five hundred dead?"

"That's the estimate."

"Then I guess you need some help." He reached for his digital phone. "Though you're making things difficult for me. How many people are in your team?"

"Six."

"And six dogs?"

She nodded.

"Call back this Helen Peabody and tell her you've found a plane and pilot." He wrinkled his nose. "My upholstery and carpets may never smell the same after six dogs running around the cabin."

Her eyes widened. "You're lending us your plane?"

"How soon can you have the team at the Phoenix airport?"

"Most of them are in Tucson. Five hours tops."

"That's too long if the conditions in Taiwan are as bad as you say. We'll fly down to Tucson, pick up the team, and go direct to Taiwan from there."

"We?"

"I'm going with you."

"Are you out of your head? To Taiwan? Why?"

"Maybe it's my way of trying to make up for having Monty hurt in Santo Camaro."

"Then just give us the plane and pilot."

He shook his head. "It's my plane. I call the shots." He dialed Margaret. "Margaret, I'm going to Taiwan. Have my plane and documents ready within the hour." He cut her short when she started to protest. "Not now. Just do it." He hung up.

Sarah was shaking her head. "You can't go with us."

"Why not?"

"This is a rescue mission. We have work to do. You'd get in the way."

"No, I wouldn't. I know the language. I have a small plant on the coast, so I have contacts in the country and I have the plane. What else could you ask for?"