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Mystic Cowboy(72)

By:Sarah Anderson


Irrational relief flooded her system. She forced herself to take a breath, forced the air to move through her lungs. It wasn’t like she would have really believed he’d seen her dead—would she? Of course not. That was just not possible. But he was frantic. One step at a time, she thought as she said, “Have you talked to your brother?” in her calmest voice. She’d taken Jesse’s cast off three weeks ago. According to everyone, that meant it was just about time for him to hurt himself again.

His eyes widened with dread. “Can I use your phone?”

Madeline dressed quickly as Rebel called just about everyone in the phone book. And everyone had the same thing to say. They were fine. Everyone was just fine.

“I’m coming with you,” he said as she got her keys. He clutched her in his arms, and his current of terror shot through her.

Damn, in this state, he’d probably scare everyone, even Clarence. For the first time, she wished Albert was still here, not because she missed the old man, but because she was pretty sure he was the only one around who could talk Rebel down right now. But she was also pretty sure that telling him to go home and get over it—whatever it was—would push him right over the edge. “Okay. Come on. But I’m driving.”

On the way in, he grilled her. Had more people been getting sick recently? No, the number of people experiencing flu-like symptoms had been holding steady. Had she heard any chatter from the medical supply people? No, nothing.

“How about the samples?” He was a little calmer now, but the terror that had held sway earlier was now becoming a laser-like focus on finding something—anything—that was actually wrong. “You said four to six weeks, right? It’s been six. Have you heard anything about them?”

“No. I had Tara call a few weeks ago and nothing.” Open Diagnostics Laboratories was no different from the rest of the world. The White Sandy is a non-entity to them, she thought with disgust. Some days, she felt like she needed to sacrifice a chicken or something in order to get the ball rolling.

His lips disappeared into a thin line. “We need to know. What if that’s it?”

Part of her wanted to tell him to snap the hell out of it, because everything was fine. He’d just had a bad dream or eaten something he shouldn’t have, or maybe he was having a nervous breakdown. Nothing was wrong, and he was starting to freak her out.

But another part of her knew he wouldn’t just make something like this up. That part of her knew that it didn’t matter how much or how little she believed in his visions or the spirit world or any of the Lakota stuff she didn’t understand. What mattered was the fact that he did believe.

“I’ll call the lab myself when we get to the clinic, okay?”

He nodded even as he shot her a disapproving look. She must have sounded unconvinced. “You think I’m nuts.”

The giggle was out before she could stop it. Lord, what she wouldn’t have given for a little more coffee. “No, I know you’re nuts. But,” she added quickly, “it’s clearly important to you. And you’re important to me. So I’ll call.” Calling was one thing, though. Convincing was another thing. How the hell was she going to do that? What she needed was some backup. Her wheels began to turn.

“Okay, good,” he said, seemingly not the least bit insulted. “Just to be safe. Just to be ready. Just in case.”

By the time she pulled up next to the clinic, Rebel was considerably calmer, and that made her feel good in a new, different way. She had the sneaky feeling that Albert, wherever he was, would be proud that she’d talked Rebel down all by herself.

First, she called Mellie. If she was going to exert a little pressure on the lab people, she needed to know as much as she could. Mellie was an expert at getting people to do what she wanted them to do and making them think it had been their idea in the first place. Mellie had never needed the Mitchell sneer.

“Open Diagnostics?” Mellie said with a yawn, even though it was almost eight in Columbus. “What for?”

Would Mellie ever grow up? Sheesh. Madeline had been up for over an hour already. “Just look them up online. Where they’re located, who the manager of the lab is—see what you can find and call me back in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Whatever, Maddie.”

“Mellie, this is important.”

There was a long pause. “Does this have anything to do with a cowboy? Or an Indian?” At least she sounded more awake now. “Well?”

Madeline rolled her eyes, which was wasted on the telephone, but old habits die hard. “Both,” she finally admitted.