Forewarning

By Kate Wyland

Healing is her life. Will it be her death?

Grieving and guilt-stricken after her husband’s suicide, Kasey Martin has closed her energetic healing practice and retreated to her Oregon horse ranch. One night, she rescues a badly injured man, and against her better judgment, uses her neglected skills to save his life. This starts her on an unexpected journey of healing and danger.

Complicating her life is Jim Bradley, an old friend who has long been in love with her and wants her to return to her work. When criminals looking for her patient invade the serenity of her world, she must use her skills to save all three of their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Wyland
• Release date: Oct 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9780988580329

Kate Wyland

I am a life-long horse lover, who started riding at three years old and am still riding today. I've taken part in a great variety of equestrian activities. My husband and I own three horses that are in their late 20′s and semi-retired. I can't image a life without horses in it.Suspense, romance, horses and sometimes the paranormal are the themes I like to explore in my books. I've had a life-long preoccupation with investigating new trails and new ideas. When I was a kid, my best friend was a sweet, little horse named Star. We loved to ride in the hills or along the river and were always open to trying unknown paths. We saw lots of pretty country that way and occasionally got into trouble, but that never discouraged us. (Though after getting caught in quicksand one time, Star was very leery of soft ground from then on.)

Book preview

FOREWARNING

A HORSES AND HEALING MYSTERY

KATE WYLAND

Copyright 2013 Kate Wyland

Smashwords Edition

Prologue

The rain reverberated like muffled gunshots off the hood of the car. Pulse hammering, Scott fought to keep the Corvette from plunging off the winding highway while sheets of water swallowed the headlights, obscuring the road and his turnoff.

Something hit the car and he wrestled for control as a loud, sharp blast resounded in his mind. For a moment he was no longer in the storm, but crouched in a dark room with the echo from an explosion ringing in his ears. He sucked in a desperate gasp of air and pushed his speed to a dangerous edge. He had to get to Tommy.

Then he could rest. And maybe get rid of the pain.

He resisted the urge to massage the area around the knot on his head. If only he could remember how the hell he got hurt, then all this might make more sense. But first, he had to find the turnoff.

An opening appeared to his left.

Turning onto the dirt road, he navigated around puddles disguising tire-eating potholes. The sound of the sports car scraping bottom made him wince. The narrow lane twisted and turned, then, to his surprise, started climbing, heading up the mountain. Shit, he must have taken the wrong road. He remembered a more level one.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel, fighting the terrain. He didn’t dare stop on the treacherous incline. Slipping and sliding on the muddy track, the powerful car crawled up the grade while he peered ahead looking for a place to reverse course. The night became even blacker as the woods closed in around him, blunting the force of the storm.

When the forest opened again, his headlights showed the road widening up ahead with no trees on his left because of a steep down slope. He accelerated, eager to find a spot to turn around, but the ground was too slick. His tires spun in the mire and he lost the battle. The car slid sideways toward the drop-off. He twisted the steering wheel, turning into the skid, but to no avail. The Vette careened over the embankment, briefly airborne, bounced, then crashed to a stop. His head smashed into the door frame.

A scalding pain in his hand brought him back to consciousness, and a fierce heat drove him from the car. He staggered in the mud, fleeing the fire. A tangle of berry vines grabbed his ankles and he slammed into the rocky ground.

Chapter 1

Kasey Martin jerked awake, her heart galloping like a horse running from a cougar. Wide-eyed, she lay frozen and listened to the night. Wind howled through the eaves, thunder rumbled in the distance, rain pounded the roof. A typical storm in the foothills of the Oregon Cascades.

She sat up and stared into the deep black of a night with no city glow to lighten the dark. No help came from the night light in the hall, either. The tempest had knocked out the power again. All she could see was unrelieved black. All she heard was the downpour and Goliath, her Border Collie, snoring on the floor.

Kasey frowned and tilted her head. What the heck had startled her awake and sent her pulse racing? She focused her thoughts and reached out with her mind, briefly touching the energy fields of the animals in her care. The horses in both pastures were dozing in their lean-tos, ignoring the storm. In the barn, her stallion Sundancer was awake but unconcerned. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She lay back, pulled the quilt up around her shoulders, and willed herself to relax. At least tonight it hadn’t been the nightmare about Brian that disturbed her sleep.

Her breathing had almost returned to normal when a flash of lightning lit up the room and a blast of thunder shook the house. With a yelp of terror, Goliath leaped on the bed and clawed at the blankets, trying to burrow under her arm. Kasey cuddled him close and let him stay. She knew how much he hated loud noises, particularly thunder and gunshots.

Eventually her pulse calmed and she drifted off. But images of fire and pain wracked her dreams, disturbing her sleep. Her legs began a restless twitching, pulling her awake once again. The earlier heart-pounding anxiety returned, too. Her apprehension increased when she swung out of bed. Then she felt it. Something was wrong with the horses.

She grabbed a flashlight from her nightstand and rushed across the chilly room to the window. Rain blotted out everything beyond the porch. Foreboding tightened her chest and restricted her breathing. Whatever was going on was serious.

She concentrated on the agitated feelings surging toward her and recognized Star’s distinctive energy. Kasey sensed no pain, so the mare wasn’t hurt. However, she was frantic about something. Kasey focused her thoughts on the other horses in the pasture. Paris and Dina were awake and distressed too. The rest of the horses appeared to be on the far side of the field away from whatever was upsetting the trio.

A sudden wave of pain hit her, sending needles through her hand and stomach and setting her head throbbing. She gasped and braced herself against the windowsill. Someone—a man and a stranger by the unfamiliar feel—was badly hurt. That was why Star woke her. The mare sensed his pain.

Kasey picked up the phone to call 911 and heard only silence. The storm had taken out the telephone line, too. Fear coiled in her gut at the realization and her hands shook as she replaced the receiver. She would have to deal with the man on her own. For her to feel a stranger’s pain so strongly meant he had to be seriously hurt—more injured than her first aid skills could handle.

She slipped on jeans and a sweatshirt and gathered her shoulder-length hair into a low ponytail. An anxious Goliath shadowed her every move, nearly tripping her as she hurried through the dark. At the back door, she pulled on her boots and grabbed her slicker.

Kasey gathered the hood of the bright yellow coat close around her face and slogged through the downpour to her truck. The wind ripped at the door, almost tearing it from her rain-slick hands. The pickup rumbled to life and its high beams lit a narrow path through the torrent. Her insides bounced in rhythm with the truck and her breathing accelerated as she fought a rising panic. Who was in her pasture and how did he get there? More important, how badly was he hurt?

The dark forms of three horses in front of a covered feeding shed flashed in the headlights. A smaller shape slumped on the ground beneath its shelter. The man moved when the lights hit him and waves of pain threatened to overwhelm her. She hit the brakes, stunned that his suffering penetrated to her so easily—stunned at how badly hurt he was.

Gasping for air, she fought the panic that took her breath away. I can’t do this. She stared at the man for a long moment and with shaking hands put the truck in reverse. I have to get someone else.

The pickup surged backward then jerked to a stop. Kasey dropped her forehead to the steering wheel. He can’t wait for anyone else. She lifted her head and took a deep shuddering breath. Then she visualized a golden ball of energy surrounding her, creating a protective barrier against the stranger’s agony, while a shaft of white light filled her with calm and strength.

Shaken and unsure, she grabbed the first aid kit and a waterproof horse blanket from the backseat. The ground sucked at her boots as she hurried to the injured man, knelt and spread the blanket over him.

The three-sided shed gave partial protection from the storm, but the rain had turned the saturated ground to muck. The man rolled toward her with a groan. Definitely a stranger—in his thirties, with dark hair and a muscular build. He was soaked to the skin, clad in a light jacket and slacks that provided no protection from the downpour. Blood from a head wound covered his face. He looked much too pale and his dark eyes were glazing. The beginnings of shock.

What happened to you? she asked.

Lightning streaked though the sky before he could answer and a cannon shot of thunder scattered the three horses. The acrid smell of ozone permeated the air. That was too close.

I’m going to help you. Can you tell me your name?

The man just moaned and rocked, trying to escape his torment. He was curled into a ball, one hand pressed to his midsection. The level of his pain told her he required medical care. However, before moving him she had to know what she was dealing with. She would have to scan his body to determine his injuries. Could she do it anymore? Just as important, could she trust her diagnosis?

A feeling of anger and betrayal swept over her, tightening her fists and jaw. In the year since her husband’s suicide, she hadn’t even attempted to use her training, her abilities suppressed by fear and guilt.

Kasey closed her eyes and swallowed uneasily. The man moaned again. She had no choice. She had to use her skills—or, at least, try to.

With a quick prayer for help, she focused on beneficial white light flowing into her heart and then reached out using the healing force she’d gathered. She moved her shaking hands over the man, close to his body but not quite touching—scanning his energy field for disruptions and trying to locate his injuries.

Several more lightning flashes speared the night before she sat back and wiped the rain off her face. If she could trust her read, she had an idea of what his problems were. The head wound, while messy, did not appear significant. Damage to his brain was another matter and something to be dealt with later. His hand seemed to be the most painful. His abdomen, the most critical—he was bleeding internally. The hospital was thirty miles and, given the state of her access road, almost an hour away. He could die before she got him there.

Kasey rocked back on her heels and stared down at the groaning man. He needed help now—help she might be able to give him. She had worked with chronic problems, not anything this acute and serious. But she knew of others with her training who dealt with emergencies. But what if she hurt rather than helped him?

Panic froze her in place. Oh God, what if I hurt him? Like I did Brian. She fought to force air into her lungs. She couldn’t go through that again. A soft nudge on her shoulder broke the spell, and Kasey jerked around to see Star standing behind. Taking a long, deep breath, Kasey reached up and stroked the horse. You’re right girl; I have to try.

She leaned forward and pictured in her mind the organs and bodily structures that lay between her hands, feeling for the source of the internal bleeding. His left side drew her, and she found a major energy disruption below his heart that pinpointed the problem area. The spleen. And if something weren’t done soon, he would bleed to death. She had no choice.

Kasey placed one hand on his back and the other over his abdomen and concentrated on finding a way to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t easy, but finally she found the connection she sought. She focused her thoughts and asked for healing energy to flow to the tear in the spleen. The man had been rocking back and forth, but at her touch he quieted and lay without moving. She spoke to him softly, both to help keep him conscious and to reassure herself.

The wind shifted direction and the rain began blowing in her face, threatening her concentration. She dropped her head to avoid the cold, stinging spray. She couldn’t afford the distraction. Many long minutes passed before she felt a sudden release in tension that signaled she was finished for now.

It felt like the bleeding had slowed, if not stopped. Only a doctor could say for sure. The man’s breathing seemed a little stronger and his color better. She slipped on a pair of latex gloves. Now it was time to deal with his hand.

Sorry, she murmured. This will hurt.

Kasey braced herself against his pain and slid one hand under his elbow, the other under his wrist and inched his arm away from his torso. The glare of the headlights exposed the damage to his hand. White blisters covered the back while the palm was raw and charred in spots. She gasped, then doubled over and fought the urge to retch. No wonder he was in so much pain. And no wonder he affected her so strongly.

This isn’t Brian, she reminded herself, waiting for her insides to calm and her emotions to quiet. With shaking hands, she poured saline solution over his burns, then carefully wrapped them with a soaked pad and an elastic bandage. She hoped the cool moisture would help his pain. She tried to send soothing, healing energy to his hand. To her dismay, the reminder of Brian was too potent and she couldn’t focus.

After wiping away the blood from around his eyes, she sat back. That’s all I can do for you here. The rest is up to the hospital.

Kasey let her gaze roam over him. Even curled up, he was a large man. Undoubtedly taller than her five foot eight. He appeared well-muscled and fit, which would be useful if he stayed conscious enough to help her. She was strong due to her ranch chores and accustomed to shifting heavy loads. But she doubted she could move him safely if he lost consciousness.

I need you to stay awake and work with me. Kasey rose to her feet and headed for the pickup.

Red clay clung to her boots, making every step an effort. She scraped off the worst of the mud, climbed in and drove as close to the shed as she dared. The constant movement of the horses in and out of the lean-to had churned up the ground, making a slippery, sloppy mess. Thank goodness for four-wheel drive.

Kasey opened the passenger door and laid the seat down flat. Returning to the stranger, she shook him gently.

Please wake up and help me. I can’t move you by myself.

The man groaned and opened his eyes.

She took hold of his upper arm and urged him up on his knees. Crouching down, she put his arm over her shoulders and helped him to stand. When they reached the open door of the pickup, she told him to step up. He managed to do his part and made it in. Then he lay back and turned on his side. As she hurried around to the driver’s side, Kasey noticed the three horses still standing beside the shed and sent them a silent thank you.

She snagged a wool horse blanket from the back and tucked it around her shivering patient. Even with the heat on high, he would need the extra warmth to fight shock.

The powerful truck hesitated a moment, fighting the mucky ground, then lunged forward. Once out of the pasture and on the driveway, the long gravel road that led to the highway lay before her. A dark curtain of rain forced her to a crawl, in spite of the fear knotting her stomach. The open land on either side made caution necessary. All she needed was to miss a turn and get them mired in a hay field.

Keeping to the road was easier once they reached the woods. Here she could see a definite path but still kept a tight grip on the wheel. Lightning lanced into a nearby tree and a large branch crashed onto the roadway, barely missing the truck. She found a path around, grateful once again for the pickup’s off-road capabilities.

Relief swept over Kasey when they reached the paved highway. But one glance at her too-quiet passenger sent her pulse skittering. She pressed on the accelerator, daring the rain-slick road. Once out of the hills, she dialed 911 on her cell phone.

This is Kasey Edwards. I’m going north on Highway 28 heading for Middleton Hospital with a badly injured man. Please let the emergency room know.

The operator asked her to hold, and a few moments later a familiar man’s voice boomed in her ear. Kasey, what’s going on? Are you all right?

Just her luck. Jim Bradley would be the physician on call in the emergency room tonight.

I’m fine. Fighting mixed emotions, she took a deep breath. I found a man who’s pretty beaten up. Don’t know how he got hurt or where he came from.

Jim asked for details and she filled him in.

What’s your ETA?

Should be about 15 minutes. …Maybe less. I see some flashing lights—looks like I’m getting a police escort.

Kasey signed off with decidedly mixed feelings. On one hand, Jim would give the stranger the best of care. But she didn’t want to deal with her old friend right now. He’d know she’d used her skills tonight—and push at her. She didn’t need his pressure.

Kasey watched the red, blue and white lights approach, make a U-turn and come alongside her. The interior light of the sheriff’s car came on, the deputy gave a little salute before pulling in front of her, and she followed him to the hospital.

When she pulled up to the entrance, Jim’s tall, lanky form stood out as a dark silhouette inside the glass doors of the emergency room. After he helped shift the man onto a gurney and did a brief exam, Jim pulled Kasey aside while his team took the patient inside.

Rusty, are you okay?

Kasey nodded, oddly comforted by her old nickname. I’m fine. The blood is his.

Relief flooded Jim’s face. Tell me what I’m looking for.

I told you—head wound, burned hand, internal injury.

Don’t play dumb, Kasey. What did you find?

She gazed at him for a long moment, then responded in a resigned voice. Spleen, upper left anterior.

Chapter 2

With each step down the deserted hall to the waiting room, the band around Kasey’s chest drew tighter. The frantic desire to scurry back to her ranch, to run from what she had done, almost made her turn around. She suppressed the urge. She needed to find out if the man would be okay, to find out if she had helped—or hurt—him.

She stopped in the ladies room to wash the blood off her hands and clean up a bit. Her mother’s brown eyes and heart-shaped face stared back at her from the mirror as she dried her hands. But the auburn hair she smoothed and gathered into a low ponytail again was her father’s legacy, as was her empathic sensitivity. He possessed an uncanny ability to understand animals and deal with their problems and had been known as a horse whisperer long before the term became popular.

His ability to feel emotions extended to people as well as animals, for which Kasey was grateful. Her breath caught as she thought of his gentle love and support. He’d helped her understand and deal with her sensitivity, showing her it was a gift rather than a curse. How often during this past year she’d wished she could turn to him for help, as she had as a child. That wasn’t possible. He had his own pain to deal with, and she couldn’t burden him with hers.

Leaving the restroom, she continued down to the waiting area. Tonight was the first time she’d been to the hospital since Brian’s death, and the small, chair-filled lounge stirred up painful memories. Memories of the man who had been her life. To her relief, the room was empty, and she chose a seat in a corner where she wouldn’t be easily seen.

Exhaustion dropped her into the chair with unexpected force. She tried to focus on the television in the corner; instead the night’s events kept playing over and over in her mind. The blood on the man’s too-pale face. The raw, charred skin of his palm. Her hands focusing healing energy. Her hands focusing healing energy.

Her legs began a restless dance, so she jumped up to walk off some of the tension. What she really needed was to go for a run. Since that wasn’t possible, she returned to her chair and started a deep breathing exercise—in for four counts, hold two, out for seven counts and hold for two. Eventually the rhythmic pattern took effect. Her eyelids closed, and her head flopped to the side in a restless doze.

***

Jim Bradley paused at the door of the waiting room and gazed at the sleeping woman. Damn, she’s lovely. Not that Kasey would agree right now, of course, given her mud-stained jeans, green rubber boots and ratty sweatshirt. To him, she looked wonderful. He let the desire he always suppressed when around her thrum freely through his body. For this moment, he didn’t have to be on guard. For this moment, he could just enjoy looking at her and contemplate a time when he could let her know his heart. Soon, he hoped. Soon.

Kasey shifted in her chair and Jim quickly brought his feelings under control, directing his thoughts to the surgery he had just completed. Now was not the time to reveal his yearning. She had enough to deal with tonight. He pulled his shoulders back and headed into the room.

You’re going to a get a heck of a stiff neck if you stay kinked like that much longer.

***

Bleary-eyed, Kasey focused on the approaching figure in green scrubs and her heart leapt. Brian! Reality intruded and she realized it was Jim. Then the rest of the night came back to her.

How is he? Is he going to be okay?

A slow smile creased Jim’s craggy face as he nodded and answered. We’re pumping blood and fluids into him, as you would expect. His hand sustained second- and third-degree burns. To my surprise, I didn’t have to remove his spleen. He scrubbed his hands through his sandy hair, fluffing up the damp strands.

Folding his tall, lean form, he sat on the chair next to her and put his hands on her upper arms to turn her slightly away from him. She tensed when he began massaging her shoulders, then gradually relaxed, giving into the comfort of his touch. Closing her eyes, she let her head drop as he rubbed small circles up and down her neck.

He continued in his slow, folksy drawl. The assisting surgeon is sorta’ puzzled, though. He can’t figure out how that amount of blood came out of the small seeping wound we found. You did a good job, Rusty. I saw where a larger part had already started to heal.

A wave of relief swept over her and the tightness in her chest released. I’ve never tried anything like that before.

Jim’s voice quickened with excitement and he gave her a harder squeeze. Damn, that was fascinating. I’ve seen the results of your work from the outside for years. This is the first time I’ve seen it from the inside.

Kasey twisted her head around. You didn’t say anything, did you?

No, no, the Assisting works for Frank. I didn’t want to start something. He’ll find out about you soon enough.

The thought of Frank Edwards, her former father-in-law, sent her blood pressure skyrocketing. Kasey wagged her head back and forth. No. Tonight was an emergency. I can’t do my Integrative Therapy anymore. I don’t know how I managed to do anything at all.

But you did, and the guy probably owes you his life. You should feel damn good.

Actually, she felt scared and exhausted. She’d taken a chance tonight. Against her better judgment, she’d used her abilities for the first time in over a year. And it appeared to have worked out—for the moment. She knew she would pay for her actions. The fatigue that was draining her now was only the beginning.

Engrossed in his own thoughts, Jim continued. I’ve sent our mystery man up for an MRI, and I’m pretty sure they’ll find brain swelling. Seems he suffered two cranial injuries. The one on the front of his head is typical of a car accident. The other is on the side toward the back and looks like he was hit from above or something fell on him. Apparently happened a while earlier.

He paused, while still kneading