* * *
Jason followedWinona’s vehicle down a winding road toward Scarlet Springs, McBride in the passenger seat, watching him. “What?”
“Have you got a thing for Win?”
Jason kept his expression impassive. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Thatwasn’ta denial. So, you and Elena are truly done.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“Don’t be.” Jason hoped McBride would let it go.
“Chaska is a pretty good tracker, by the way. He helped the Marshal Service with a couple of cases in the past.”
Jason couldn’t resist. “You couldn’t handle it yourself after spending a whole week learning to cut sign with the Wolves?”
McBride snorted. “All I learned in that week is that you guys arereallygood, and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”
The drive to Scarlet took less than a half-hour. Winona pulled into the driveway of a large Victorian house, climbed out of her car, and walked to Jason’s window. “I need to carry the food inside and get Grandpa settled.”
“You take care of your grandfather. Let us handle the food.” Jason parked, and he and McBride carried the boxes of leftovers inside, setting them on the kitchen counter. Winona disappeared upstairs with her grandfather, the soft sound of her voice drifting down to him.
Jason glanced around. “Nice house.”
It was bigger than any home in Sells.
“This is Chaska and Naomi’s place,” McBride told him. “He works for an aerospace engineering company building rocket parts or some shit. She’s an artist—jewelry mostly.”
Engineering and jewelry-making—two skills that could surely be put to better use on the reservation.
Winona came downstairs. “Grandpa thinks I fuss over him, but he’s ninety-three.”
McBride leaned back against the counter. “I bet he loves the attention.”
“Let me put all of this away.” She stuck the leftovers into the fridge, then walked to the back door. “We can get to the clinic faster through the back gate.”
As it turned out, the rear entrance to the clinic was only a short distance from Chaska and Naomi’s backyard.
Winona opened the door with a key card, reached inside, and flipped on a light. “This was a hectic summer because of the fire, but things have slowed down now.”
She gave them a tour, showing them the treatment rooms, the two operating rooms, and the indoor rooms lined with cages for smaller animals.
Jason was impressed. “You run this by yourself?”
“No.” Winona laughed. “I have an army of volunteers who clean cages and handle a lot of the feedings. I also get several interns from the university each summer. That’s my busiest time.”
She opened a door and turned on the lights. “We’ve got a raccoon and a beaver back here. The raccoon was hit by a mountain biker and has a broken leg. The beaver got tangled in barbed wire, and the lacerations on her little webbed feet were infected.”
Jason stayed back so as not to scare the animals. Winona checked them, speaking to them in what he assumed was Lakota, her voice sweet, her devotion to the animals shining on her face—and stirring something inside him.
McBride bent down to get a better look at the beaver, which sat, tail between its legs, chattering to itself. “Hey, buddy. What’s the biggest animal you’ve ever treated?”
She closed the raccoon’s cage. “That would have to be a bull moose last fall. He had a volleyball net tangled in his antlers and was dragging it everywhere, along with every branch and twig it caught. Eventually, he couldn’t move at all. A game warden freed him, but he was hungry and badly dehydrated. I had to tranq him to get close enough to treat him.”
Jason had to ask. “Who pays for the animals’ care—the state? It’s not like wild animals have owners.”