Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel, Pamela Clare [i can read book club .TXT] 📗

knew along the way. “Graham told us he was breeding wolfdogs as a source of income. He hoped to sell them for dog fights and use the cash for ammo, tools, and other supplies he couldn’t get from the land or steal.”

Jason hadn’t thought he could possibly hate Graham more, but that did it. “What a piece of shit.”

“He belongs in a cage, not the wolves,” Chaska muttered.

They came to a door where two DUSMs stood guard, the rest of McBride’s crew milling about, waiting for their boss.

One of the DUSMs looked from Chaska to Jason. “Who are they?”

McBride answered the question truthfully without explaining their connection to this case. “Jason Chiago is with the Shadow Wolves, and Chaska Belcourt did some tracking for us on a fugitive case. They need to talk with the prisoner.”

Eyebrows rose. Heads nodded.

“Shadow Wolves. Cool.”

McBride opened the door, followed Jason and Chaska inside.

Thomas Paul Graham lay on his back, a morphine pump attached to an IV in one arm, a special pillow beneath his hips. He grinned when he saw them.

Then he recognized Jason, and his grin vanished. “Now, look, I wasn’t tryin’ to shoot you in the face. I was tryin’ to scare you off.”

McBride did the talking. “You’re facing charges for firing on a federal agent—and a few other felonies besides. Poaching. Use of illegal traps. And now assault with a deadly weapon. A woman stepped into one of your old-time bear traps this afternoon and might lose her leg. We want the location of every trap and snare you’ve placed on Forest Service land—now.”

“Not ’til you tell me what you did with my wolves.”

“They’re fine—all six of them. The Forest Service placed the female with her pups in a sanctuary. The male will join them soon.”

“I want proof.”

Did this son of a bitch think he was in charge?

Jason walked to the head of the bed, bent down until his face was almost touching Graham’s, and let the full force of his rage show. “The woman who was injured means a lot to me. Give the nice marshal the information that he needs, or there won’t be a prison cell on earth that can keep you safe from me.”

McBride cleared his throat. “Chiago.”

Graham’s face paled, and he broke. “They’re all in a line up to the ridge heading west. There should be four more.”

Then Chaska stepped forward, contempt on his face. “The woman you hurt is my sister. Do you know what we Lakota used to do to our enemies?”

He let the question hang in the air for a moment, let Graham squirm.

“We used to ride up and touch them to show our bravery. But you’re pathetic. There’s no honor in counting coup on a sick son of a dog like you.”

Then he turned and walked away, Jason following him out of the room.

Chapter 21

Jason and Chaska waited, the minutes like hours. Megs and Ahearn came with sandwiches and the keys to Chaska’s truck.

Megs gave them an update. “Everyone in town is praying for her. Joe has already put a donation jar on the bar at Knockers to help cover her medical expenses. We got the wolf safely down. Dr. Keene examined it, fed it, and it’s now safely in Shota’s pen. The sanctuary folks are coming to get him tomorrow. I know Win will ask.”

Chaska hugged Megs. “Thank you.”

Megs stepped back, wiped her eyes. “We all love Win. Damned onions.”

Finally, four hours and twenty-two minutes after Winona went into surgery, the screen said she had been moved into recovery.

Several minutes later, the surgeon walked into the waiting area, his gaze moving over the room, settling on Jason and Chaska. “Belcourt family?”

As they were the only brown-skinned people present, it was a good guess.

Jason and Chaska stood.

He motioned them toward a private conference room. “Let’s talk in here.”

Jason’s stomach sank. He followed Chaska into the small room, closed the door behind them, and sat at the small table.

Chaska spoke first. “How is my sister?”

The doctor leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “She’s groggy from the anesthesia. We’ve given her a nerve block, so she’s not in pain. Whoever put that tourniquet on her leg saved her life. One of the teeth on that trap severed her fibular artery. She would have bled out in five minutes. As it was, we had to give her two units of blood.”

Jason had to ask. “Is she going to keep her leg?”

“I think so.”

But Jason heard only the doubt. “There’s still a chance she’ll lose it?”

The doctor pulled out a chair and sat. “The break itself was not the worst I’ve seen. I was able to realign the bones and fix them into place with hardware. There was some tissue damage from the tourniquet, of course, but her blood flow is restored. Our two biggest concerns over the next several weeks are blood clots and infection.”

This was all good news.

The surgeon went on. “If she ends up with a serious infection, she could still lose her leg. We’ve got her on strong IV antibiotics, and we’re giving her anti-clotting drugs. I also sprinkled vancomycin powder in the surgical site and around the bone and gave her a tetanus shot. We’ll monitor her closely over the next week. There’s a very good chance that she’ll heal and walk normally. It’s the best possible news you could expect at this point after an injury like that.”

Jason thought he might actually fucking cry, his throat too tight to talk.

“Thank you for all you did to help her.” Chaska shook the surgeon’s hand. “When can we see her?”

The surgeon stood. “When she’s out of recovery, I’ll have a nurse come get you.”

Jason swallowed, got to his feet, shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you. Is there a chapel in the hospital?”

“Yes. It’s on the first floor. Down the elevator and to your right.”

“Thanks.”

The chapel turned out to be a small space with pews, kneelers, a pulpit, and a single stained-glass window that depicted a lily. Jason