Sanctuary Cove
Автор
Kate James
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Chapter One
RAIN BATTERED THE sidewalk as Emma paused under the canopy by the entrance to the post office. She pulled the hood of her windbreaker low over her forehead and made a quick dash to the parking lot. Even so, she was drenched by the time she climbed into her SUV.
Poetic justice, she thought, that the sky had burst open while she’d been inside, arranging to send the signed agreement of purchase and sale back to Richard. That last tenuous link to her former fiancé was now irrevocably severed. As of the end of the month, the house she and Richard had planned to live in after they got married would belong to someone else.
Emma had picked up the envelope containing the documents just a couple of hours earlier, while weak rays of sunshine were still fighting their way through the thickening clouds. Richard had sent only the agreement—no note, no transmittal letter. What had she expected? “So sorry it didn’t work out? It was fun while it lasted?”
There was no personal connection whatsoever.
Perhaps it was better, more honest that way.
Emma shoved back her hood, splattering water everywhere, including on her copy of the agreement, which she’d left on the middle console.
“Great. Just great.”
She wiped off the moisture before tossing the document on the passenger seat. In a gesture she knew Richard would’ve said was indicative of her inability to control her temper, she tugged the elastic band from her ponytail and pushed her sopping hair back from her face. When she started the engine, the sudden blast of cold air against her damp skin had her fumbling to shut off the air-conditioning.
What a difference a few hours and some miserable rain made.
Her wipers swished wildly as she pulled out of the parking lot. By the time she turned off the highway onto Otter Creek Road, her headlights were useless through the dense sheets of rain and swirling fog. The plump drops of water caught and tossed the light back at her.
Out of deference to the dismal weather, she kept her speed to a crawl as she wound her way along the gravel road toward her cottage.
With the next swipe of the wipers, a flash of color caught her attention.
She’d just convinced herself that her eyes had been playing tricks on her when she saw it again.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, as she eased her SUV to the shoulder behind the gray-and-red form sprawled at the side of the road.
Yanking the hood of her windbreaker back over her head, Emma hopped out of the vehicle and rushed toward the animal. A low growl had her slowing her approach.
She couldn’t be sure if the animal was a dog or a wolf, but she knew he needed medical attention for the deep gash in his hind leg and by the odd angle at which that leg protruded from his body.
“Shhh. It’s okay. I’m here to help. I won’t hurt you,” she murmured.
The animal pawed the ground with a front leg and twisted his head toward her. Keeping her distance, Emma stepped forward in an arc and eased into his field of vision.
She knew she couldn’t move him, not only because of his size, but also for fear of aggravating his wounds. With the persistent growl, weak as it was, she wasn’t certain he’d let her get that close.
But she had to do something to help him.
She reversed, slowly at first to avoid startling him, then ran back to her SUV. Grabbing her cell phone, she searched for the contact information for the local veterinarian she’d saved in case she needed it for her Alaskan malamute, Max. She found the after-hours emergency number and pushed Send.
Heedless of the rain, she paced impatiently beside her vehicle as the phone rang and rang. “Come on, come on. Pick up your phone.”
On the sixth ring, her persistence paid off. A deep male voice answered.
“Is this Doctor...” She had the number programmed under veterinarian and couldn’t remember his name. It didn’t really matter. “Are you the veterinarian?”
“Yeah. Doctor Whitmore,” he responded. “Joshua Whitmore. What can I do for you?”
“My name’s Emma Meadows. There’s been an accident. A dog—or possibly a wolf. He’s been hit. He’s bleeding and his leg’s broken. But he’s alive and he’s in a lot of pain.” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t help it. Animals were her soft spot. She walked back toward the dog as she spoke, and with a sinking heart noted that the feeble growl had been replaced by whimpers and shallow breathing.
“Where are you?” The veterinarian’s voice had an edge to it.
“Otter Creek Road. Just south of the highway.”
“I’m on my way. I should be there in ten to fifteen minutes. Stay with him. Try to keep him calm but do not, do not,” he repeated, “touch him or get too close to him. Injured animals can be unpredictable.”
* * *
JOSH DISCONNECTED BEFORE the woman had a chance to respond. He hoped she would heed his caution. If she was negligent enough to hit an animal, she might be foolish enough to put herself at risk, too, he thought unkindly.
Having been in the shower when she’d called, Josh ran a hand through his wet hair.
It wasn’t often he was in a bad mood, but after the long and grueling day he’d just had, topped off by Crystal playing more of her catty little games, all he’d wanted was a hot shower and a cold beer.
It didn’t look like he was going to be getting that beer anytime soon.
He silently cursed the woman for more than likely driving carelessly in the rotten weather and causing a helpless animal to suffer the consequences. Josh tossed the phone on the bed and dropped the damp towel that had been wrapped around his waist on the bathroom floor. He tugged on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, pulled on a rain slicker and jammed a New York Yankees baseball cap on his head.
Hurrying downstairs, he paused to ruffle the fur of the yellow Labrador retriever stretched out on the rug in the kitchen. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Winston,” he said to the dog. “Hold down the fort, will you, pal?” he added as he grabbed his keys off the hook at the back door and rushed out into the dreary night.
He spared an irritated glance at the recent—and decidedly obscene—graffiti on the side of his garage as he sprinted to his Yukon, which was parked in front of the veterinary clinic that adjoined his house.
He hadn’t recognized the woman’s name, so she must not have been a local, he decided as he climbed into his truck. “Careless weekend cottager,” he grumbled under his breath and turned onto the highway. The Adirondack region had more than its fair share of them, in his opinion.
* * *
IT DIDN’T OCCUR to Emma to wait in the dry comfort of her vehicle. Thrusting her phone in her pocket, she moved closer to the animal. As he didn’t show any immediate signs of hostility this time, she cautiously knelt beside him. His head jerked toward her and he strained to emit a warning growl. Although a moan was the best he seemed to be able to manage, out of respect for the large white teeth that flashed in the glow of her headlights, Emma slumped back on her heels, putting a little more distance between them.
“It’s okay,” she soothed. “I know it must hurt terribly. Help is on the way.” Uncertain whether it was the words or her tone that caused it, she was gratified that he settled, but his breathing had become even more labored.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t you give up!” she urged. “Hang in there.” Disregarding the veterinarian’s cautionary words, she held her hand out to let him scent it. Through slitted eyelids, the dog stared at her and sniffed her hand listlessly. Appearing to have passed the test, she reached forward slowly to stroke the matted fur of his neck.
He emitted a soft whine and shifted his head a fraction. Although his eyes were dull, he held Emma’s gaze a few moments longer before his eyelids drifted shut.
Continuing to pat him gently, Emma prayed fervently that he would have the strength to hold on until the veterinarian arrived.
And where the heck was the veterinarian?
* * *
THE HEAVY RAIN made the trip longer than Josh had anticipated. Driving in the nasty weather hadn’t improved his disposition. It was nearly twenty minutes from the time he’d hung up the phone to when he spotted the black, late-model, luxury SUV parked on the shoulder of Otter Creek Road. And the woman huddled on the ground in front of it, stroking the animal. A set of choice words raced through his mind. It would be her own fault if she was bitten. Pulling up behind the BMW X5, he grabbed his medical bag and climbed out of his ancient Yukon.
The woman was hunched over the still form of the animal, as if trying to shield him from the worst of the downpour with her own body. There was a sadness about her—evident in her posture, the slope of her shoulders—that tore at his heart. When she glanced up at him with shimmering eyes, huge in her pale face, something shifted inside him.
He hoped he wasn’t too late. That he wouldn’t be deprived of the opportunity to save the animal. For the animal’s sake, as much as the woman’s.
“Josh Whitmore,” he said when he reached her, and extended a hand.
“Emma Meadows,” she responded in a voice so soft, the rain nearly drowned her out. “Thank you for coming.” She briefly placed a chilled and wet hand into his, then inched back to make room for him.
She seemed so fragile, so distraught, but she wasn’t his problem, he reminded himself.
Josh lowered to one knee and noted immediately the dog’s labored breathing. The animal was still alive, as he’d hoped, but he wasn’t certain if that was a blessing or a curse, depending on the extent of his injuries. The dog’s hind leg had sustained the worst of it. He had a closed fracture, meaning the bone was broken but the overlying skin hadn’t been pierced. There was a large laceration on his flank, too. Josh needed to find out if there were additional internal injuries. Those would create the greatest risk. He pulled a syringe and a small vial out of his bag, and administered a sedative.
Giving the drug a chance to take effect, Josh ran his hands along the creature’s torso. He was relieved that he didn’t detect any other obvious signs of trauma. He quickly dressed the cut to stop the bleeding. Next, he splinted the leg temporarily, so he could transport the dog to his clinic without exacerbating the break.
Having done all he could for the dog right now, Josh turned his attention to the woman.
She was soaked. Her long blond hair was plastered to her head despite her hood. He was three inches over six feet, but they were nearly eye-to-eye, kneeling beside each other. Disheveled as she was, he was struck by her beauty. She had large, almond-shaped eyes, the color indiscernible in the muted light, a small, straight nose, sharp, well-angled cheekbones and a generous, wide mouth.
A mouth that at present was frowning at him.
Josh ignored the frown. Not so easily, he also ignored the sudden tug of attraction. He tried to imagine what she’d look like if she smiled, before he reminded himself that slick city girls weren’t his type. Crystal had taught him that lesson well.
Emma interrupted his thoughts. “Is he going to be all right?” Her voice broke on the final word.
Josh felt an unexpected need to comfort, but he couldn’t lie. “His leg’s in bad shape. He’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll know better once I’ve had a chance to properly examine him.”
She nodded slowly. “Is it okay to move him?”
“I don’t have a choice. I’ve immobilized the leg so he should be fine. His best chance is for me to get him to my clinic and ascertain if he has any internal injuries.”
“How can I help?” she asked, as they both rose. She was tall, probably around five-ten, he guessed.
Josh swiped at the water dripping from the brim of his cap and gestured toward his truck. “Open the back, if you don’t mind. The latch is on the bottom. In the center. There’s a blanket in there. Spread it out so I can put him on it.” As she was about to move away, he touched her shoulder. She swung around, her eyes meeting his. He felt that tug again. “Take this, too, please,” he added and handed her his medical bag.
Josh lifted the dog as gently as he could, carried him to his truck and placed him on the blanket. “I’m going to help you, pal. Just hold on a while longer, okay?” Time was of the essence, especially if there were internal injuries. He turned to Emma. “I’ll do what I can,” he assured her.
“I’ll follow you. I know where the clinic is.”
He hadn’t expected that. He’d assumed she would’ve considered her penance done and head home—glad to get out of the storm.
“I won’t get in your way,” she said quickly before he could respond. “I just want to know he’ll be fine.”
Definitely not what he’d expected. Josh pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “All right, but try not to hit anything else,” he said, as he climbed into his truck. He immediately wished he could’ve bitten the harsh words back. He wasn’t a mean-spirited person, but there was something about her that poked at him.
