sister's situation. Perhaps not. They crossed over Wispit Creek on a small bridge. He took in the pleasant fragrance of Jessie's hair and secretly enjoyed the way she tossed it to keep it out of her eyes. After helping Claudie out of the truck, he offered Jessie a hand.
'You're trying to decide if I'm a human being or a cop?'
'No. I think that's your question.'
He walked to the back of the truck to lift out the foal. Its wobbly legs went in every direction as Kier carried him into a hay-covered stall in the barn.
'What did you mean by that?' she said as she followed him to the barn.''Do you have something against federal agents or just women?'
'How long have you been worried about it?'
'I'm not worried about it.'
''Am I right that shoving people around, shootouts and the like doesn't detract at all from your personhood?'
She stood openmouthed. 'Well, that's hardly-'
'Good, then I guess it's not a problem.'
Instinctively he knew that she cared what he thought of her. He hadn't figured out why. Maybe it was the reason he seemed to be talking so much. As the women stood in the doorway, watching the storm, the mare arrived. With the women looking on, and holding lights, he began the tedious job of dressing the wounds.
An hour later, his back hurting, he joined Jessie and Claudie at the barn door. The snow had grown alarmingly deep already.
As he reached for his bag, he looked over his left shoulder and across the barn to a head peering around a pile of five-gallon plastic containers. Kier looked into the dark eyes of Turtleneck, the Donahues' pet llama. As always, Kier silently cussed his failure to save the animal's mother. Tentatively, the young creature walked across the board floor, coming to see Kier.
She was a pleasant diversion from all the troubles of the day. He stripped off his rubber gloves, stroking the rich woolly coat of her back, and in turn she offered her nose and nuzzled his hand. Knowing that she was being weaned from the bottle, Kier hummed a Tilok chant and let her suck on his finger. The furling tongue felt like caterpillars.
Jessie came over. She too began petting the llama. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Kier noticed a nervous little smile. He would wait for her to speak. Evidently she had the same idea, because the llama was basking in the quiet chant and all the attention.
She cleared her throat. He remained impassive, saying nothing as he rubbed the llama between its eyes.
'I guess maybe we didn't get off on the right foot,' she finally said.
'Why is that?'
'Well, the fender. And I guess you don't much care for FBI agents.'
'How do you feel about them?' he asked. 'That's like asking how I feel about postmen. Some good, some not so good.' She looked at him, apparently expecting some sign of agreement or understanding. He studied the llama's limpid eyes.
'Well, for example, how do you feel about Indians?' she asked.
'About like that. Some good, some not so good.'
'So do you think maybe we could start again?'
'You gonna be a postman or an Indian this time?' She breathed as if to speak, then paused, unsure. He gave her a rare smile. 'I'm more or less just kidding you.'
'Oh.' She looked nonplussed. 'Well, it certainly worked.'
'Look, I'm pleased to meet you.' He extended his hand. 'I think women as attractive as you make me nervous. To be honest.'
Jessie shook his hand gamely. 'Will you be staying for a while? I mean with the blizzard and the pass and everything? Claudie and I would like some company. I'm visiting over Thanksgiving, trying to help Sis with all she's got going. This shingles is a weird disease. Anyway, will you stay?'
'Really, I ah… well, I think I better go. I have a cabin, and I have a little building project there.' He was amazed and irritated at how nervous he felt. Leaving sounded good and bad all at the same time. 'Actually, I've gotta be on my way.'
'Okay,' was all she said. But it was at that moment that he realized something was wrong. Maybe it was the way Jessie said the word, the shrug of her shoulders, or her tone when she had asked him to stay. Or maybe what was unconscious had just become conscious. He felt as though he had just kicked a helpless creature.
Claudie was coming back through the doorway to check on her horse. Or her sister. Kier wasn't sure which.
'Hi, how you doing?' Jessie said to Claudie, taking her arm. Jessie seemed confident, soothing, and strong. Perhaps he was imagining things. Never in a single day had he had so many catastrophes.
Things would get better, they always did. Perhaps things were actually not so bad. The foal would survive, and the mare would recover. He doubted Winona would be doing any more surrogate mothering. She could work in his vet clinic.
Kier was bidding Jessie and Claudie farewell, still thinking about Jessie, when it happened.
It started as a barely audible roar, but turned into shrieking thunder. The air seemed to compress; even the storm seemed to still. Incredibly bright light flashed overhead, streaming through the falling snow.
Concussive shock waves sent a rolling vibration through the barn, and a series of muffled booms shook the air again. Kier allowed his awareness to expand as his body absorbed the reverberations. He looked everywhere and nowhere, marveling at the intensity of the light. On the wind he smelled kerosene, pungent and foreign.
Then the cold silence of a winter pasture reclaimed the Donahue ranch. Turtleneck had disappeared behind a haystack.
'What in the name of heaven-' Claudie began.
Kier's heart picked a slightly faster rhythm, but his calm remained. Separating things in his mind, like untangling a snarled line, he knew that the explosions, the light, the roar, and the odors had been man-made. No natural phenomenon could account for what he had just experienced.
'That sounded like a jet crashing,' said Jessie.
'Like jet engines near full throttle,' Kier agreed. 'Before the impact.'
'Oh my God,' Claudie breathed.
Kier squinted into the blizzard, which showed no sign of letting up.
'I'm going,' he told them.
'I'm coming too,' said Jessie just as quickly.
Kier knew it would only waste time to argue with her.
'Suit yourself,' he said and ran into the storm.
Chapter 2
A man who ignores the bear in the night will be the feast by morning.
Stalking Bear sat on Iron Mountain under the outstretched branches of a giant Douglas fir. There were two faces to this tree: the windward (the angrier face) and the lee. On the lee side, a large boulder created a wall. Between the rock and the tree, the mountain made a shelter as peaceful as the place for a babe between its mother's breasts. Despite the storm, the snow had scarcely dusted the old man's blankets.
A host of men had descended upon Iron Mountain over the past twenty-four hours. They had guns and walked about with maps and gadgets, trampling the forest underfoot, and defecating like sick dogs. They talked on
