скачать книгу бесплатно
Cat nodded. “And you met Griff in the process.”
Val’s eyes grew warm with love for her husband. They had been married a year and worked hard to bring the Bar H back from being a total loss. “He’s made it easy to come back.” Val looked around the warm, quiet kitchen. “This place held a lot of really bad memories for me. When Gus broke her hip and I came home to help her, I was really bitter about it at first. But I love her very much. She’s my grandmother and she was so important in my life when I was sixteen and she moved back here to the Bar H. I owed her, so I came back.”
“And Griff made the difference.” Cat knew they were deeply in love with each other. How often had she fantasized about meeting a man she could trust instead of fear?
Val wrapped her fingers around the mug. “Oh, yes, a big difference.”
“I overheard Miss Gus say you were trying to get pregnant?”
Val flushed. “I think I am, Cat. I got a feeling about it.”
“Have you tested for it yet?” she asked, thrilled. Cat loved babies and she’d delivered her fair share.
“No, and say nothing, okay? I haven’t missed a period, but I just feel different. It’s strange,” she said, shrugging. “I can’t put words to it. A new kind of happiness...”
“Fingers crossed,” Cat said. “Your secret’s safe with me, but do let me know.”
“I promise,” Val said, touching her arm.
“Hey,” Gus called from down the hall. “Cat? Talon’s waking up.”
Quickly, Cat pushed the chair back and stood up. “Be right there,” she said, and a new kind of excitement surged through her.
CHAPTER THREE
CAT SHOOED EVERYONE out of the room. Someone in Talon’s shape would easily become confused, with his mental faculties close to hallucinations due to his temperature. Zeke came over to his bedside as she sat down facing Talon, eyes bright and on his master. Talon’s skin appeared less gray and she took a cloth from the nearby bed stand. She gently sponged away the sweat on his brow, pale cheeks and thick, corded neck. Emotions swirled through her. How could one man have such a profound effect on her—and so fast? She watched his lids quiver. Yes, he was beginning to surface.
Setting the cloth aside, she listened to his lungs through her stethoscope. The antibiotics were starting to take a hold. Relief sizzled through her. She heard less crackling in his lungs. The fluids were slowly being reabsorbed by the body. Looping the stethoscope over her neck, she placed two fingers on the inside of his wrist. More relief. Talon’s pulse was no longer bounding. She picked up her thermometer, placing it inside his ear. Looking at it, she saw why he was becoming conscious. The fever was now down to 102°F.
“You’re one lucky guy,” she told him.
His lashes barely lifted.
Cat placed her hand on his. “Talon? Can you hear me? It’s Cat. You’re at the Bar H.”
A woman’s voice cut through the confusion rushing across Talon’s closed eyes. Weak. He felt so damn weak it was pitiful. Yet, when her warm, dry fingers curved over his sweaty wrist, the anxiety stopped. Her voice was low, intimate, and even his pounding heart responded to it.
God, he was thirsty.
It was the thirst that forced Talon to struggle mightily to raise his lids. When he did, his vision was blurred and all he saw was the color red in front of him. Blinking, the red turned out to be a red flannel shirt someone was wearing. It took every ounce of his strength to lift his gaze upward. When he did, he saw an incredibly beautiful woman with exotic blue eyes somberly studying him, her lush mouth pursed with concentration. And when her fingers curved more surely against his large hand, he felt her soft, maternal touch.
“Talon?”
His brow wrinkled. She knew his name. How? His mind wasn’t functioning. It pissed him off because as a SEAL, weakness wasn’t a word that existed in his universe. He forced his lips to open. Only a harsh sound escaped. Had he died? For sure he wasn’t going to heaven. Not in this lifetime. So was she an angel? His mind rolled around like a loose bowling ball with no boundaries.
She was pretty. Her black hair was slightly curled around her shoulders and framed her oval face. There was hidden strength in her face. A patient face. Her eyebrows were arched over those incredible blue eyes. Talon thought he saw her smile. Maybe he wanted her to smile because she looked so damn serious. Why?
And then his fevered mind put two and two together. The woman at his side, leaning forward, was also holding his hand. He liked her hand around his. Her skin was velvet, yet strong, like her. He became aware of the strength in her face. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five or so. And he saw redness around the left side of her slender neck, most of it hidden beneath the red flannel shirt she wore. Why? Was her skin burned from some tragedy?
“Talon?”
Her voice made him think of warm honey drizzled over his flesh. Talon almost wanted to laugh. As weak and sick as he was, he was thinking about sex. With her. He didn’t even have the energy to smile, much less entertain other things. She certainly inspired his imagination, even if his body couldn’t keep pace with the fantasy he was having about her in his arms, loving her, exploring her, kissing each square inch of that sweet-smelling skin of hers. He saw her lean away, and when she placed a warm, damp cloth against his brow and cheeks, it felt heavenly. He finally realized he was no longer freezing. The warmth of a blanket beneath him radiated heat. He could feel his fingers and toes once again.
Zeke whined.
Blinking slowly, Talon carefully turned his head and focused on his dog. Zeke panted and whined, his big ears up and his eyes dancing with happiness, his hot breath moist across his face. Talon wanted to speak, to pat his dog, but he could do neither. The woman laughed softly.
“Zeke’s been waiting for you to become conscious, too.”
Swallowing hard, his throat dry, Talon closed his eyes, fighting to put one word together. He didn’t want her to stop moving that warm washcloth against his neck and shoulders. God, it felt good.
Talon clung to her warm gaze. Her face was less than a foot away from his, studying him. Was she a doctor? He finally realized that black thing hanging around her shoulders was a stethoscope. Though he wanted to tunnel his fingers through that thick, shining mass of gleaming black hair that softly framed her face, he could barely move one finger.
“W-water...” His voice sounded like the croak of a bullfrog. The woman reached up and then adjusted the IV in his arm. SEALs were trained in giving a team member an IV when they were shot and losing a lot of blood.
How he enjoyed her profile as she turned and busied herself. It was clean. Beautiful. He laughed to himself. Somewhere in his mind, he remembered her name was Cat, appropriate because of her slightly tilted blue eyes. She wore no makeup. And when he flared his nostrils, he picked up her woman’s scent, a special fragrance that was only her. It felt like life to Talon. Hope. Maybe he wasn’t going to die after all?
“Water?” she asked him, looking into his barely opened eyes. They felt cloudy with fever.
“P-please?” he asked. Talon smelled the sweat and filth of his own body. He stank. Yet, this woman didn’t seem to care or mind as she left his side. Where did she go? Talon didn’t have the strength to move his head to find out. The warmth of the blankets felt incredibly good to him. He hated the cold.
And then she came back. Talon heard her tell Zeke to move and she sat down at his shoulder, her hip brushing his arm. Closing his eyes, he savored her warm, dry arm sliding behind his neck and shoulders.
“Okay, up you go,” she urged.
Her breath was sweet and moist as she leaned down, her face very close to his. Talon couldn’t even help her, too weak to sit up by himself. Yet, amazingly, she levered him up and held him with her woman’s strength. She placed the lip of a glass to his mouth. The water was tepid, but it tasted like heaven. He drank thirstily, some of the water leaking out the sides of his mouth, soaking into his beard. In no time, he’d drained the contents.
Talon closed his eyes, feeling the water inside him, feeling less thirsty. He regretted her lowering him down against the soft, fluffy pillows once more, her arm sliding out from beneath his neck and shoulders. He was a big man, and yet, she’d had the strength to lift him. That amazed him. Granted, she appeared to be almost six feet tall, was medium boned, but she was still all woman. Starving for her touch once more, Talon closed his eyes, feeling better but missing contact with her. Better to imagine it for now. The fever still had him in its grip and his mind bounced around. What would it be like to kiss that mouth of hers? It was a soft mouth, full and wide. The kind a man could drown himself in, explore and make his own. He’d kissed his share of women over his time as a SEAL but her mouth intrigued him more than any other. Would her skin, those faintly flushed pink cheeks of hers, feel like warm velvet beneath his exploring fingertips? Would her hair feel warm and silky as he sifted them through those strands? Talon bet they would.
Cat continued to study him in the silence. The whole scene settled the anxiety that had hovered about him these past few months—maybe years. She gave him peace when he no longer had any himself. Made him feel safe in a world he knew was unsafe. All of this from just her gaze.
“Your fever has just broken,” she said, touching his forehead.
Just keep on touching me. It feels so damn good. Talon greedily absorbed the feel of her fingers sliding lightly up and down his arm in slow, gentle motions. Did she realize how good it made him feel? How long had it been since he’d felt this kind of peace?
His dog. Talon barely opened his eyes. “Zeke?”
She smiled. “He’s right here. We gave him food and water. He’s okay.”
Relief zigzagged through Talon. Zeke was being looked after. Gratefulness embraced him. He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, exhausted.
The last thing Talon knew, her long fingers gently stroked his lower arm, as if to reassure him that everything would be all right. His mind began shutting down. This respite was like heaven to him.
Cat didn’t want to stop skimming her fingers across Talon’s arm. As she saw him sink into sleep, she remained at his side. Zeke had lain down parallel to the bed, his paws touching her booted feet. Cat swore she no longer saw worry in the dog’s huge brown eyes that glittered with such fierce intelligence.
She had to stop stroking his arm or else she’d be in big trouble. She fussed with the covers, making sure Talon was snug and warm. Once again, she gazed upon his sleeping features. She wondered again what kind of weight this man carried on his shoulders. Why was he walking out in that miserable blizzard? Did he not have any money?
Cat stood and walked over to the pile of his wet, smelly clothes. She picked up his jeans and went through the pockets. She found a wallet and sat down on the edge of the bed to take a look. He had a driver’s license, a military ID and about twenty dollars. And that was it. No credit cards. She set the wallet down on the bed stand and turned her attention to the dog. Moving her fingers slowly across Zeke’s long, powerful body, she noted he was thin but not starved like his master. Talon must have fed Zeke before himself. He cared about Zeke, but not himself as much. Cat reached out without thinking, sliding her hand gently down Talon’s forearm. His skin was no longer moist. Instead, she could feel the fever ebbing.
Cat sat there, couldn’t bring herself to move. She felt an odd peace sitting here, witnessing Talon in sleep. She was rarely at peace with a man around. Oh, the guys that she worked with at the fire department were all known quantities and, over the years, had finally accepted that a woman could do as good as a man in that vocation. She treated them like the brothers she’d never had. And she was no longer threatened by any of them.
But a new man like this one? Well, she’d usually go into threat-and-defense mode. Her past taught her not to trust a man’s intentions toward her. Ever. She’d blundered in and made some hellacious mistakes with men who’d encouraged her to let down her defenses. Beau Magee had been her last mistake. And now she was paying a heavy emotional price for her poor choice. She couldn’t blame herself for not trusting, but then, why did Talon seem so...unthreatening?
Maybe he was the worst kind of man—the one who seemed kind on the outside but was a predator on the inside. And yet, she saw humor and kindness in Talon’s expression. Plus, he treated his dog with love and respect. There had to be goodness in Talon.
Finally, Cat roused herself and reluctantly got up and left. Quietly closing the door, she walked into the warm, bright yellow kitchen. Val, Griff and Gus were sitting at the table having coffee.
“How’s he doin’?” Gus asked.
“Much better,” Cat murmured, pouring herself coffee and sitting down next to Gus. “Fever’s broken and that’s good. He drank a glass of water.”
Gus nodded, eyeing Cat. “He has you to thank for saving his hide.”
Cat took a sip of the coffee. “Helping people is the reward in itself.”
Val smiled across the table at Cat. “You’re always so humble, Cat.”
Gus moved her hand across Cat’s shoulders. “She’s just built that way, Val.”
“Talon owes his life to you and I’m sure he’ll be grateful,” Griff said.
Cat always felt uncomfortable when people praised her. “Hey, did someone call Sandy Holt?”
“I did,” Val said. “She’s thrilled Talon is here but worried sick about him having pneumonia. I told her that he’d be okay and would call her soon.” Standing, Val went to the counter to start cleaning up the breakfast dishes.
Cat turned and looked out the windows. “That blizzard isn’t letting up, is it?”
“No,” Griff muttered. “It’s not going to stop until late tonight, from what the radio said.”
Val patted her husband’s shoulder. “It’s a stay-in-and-work day.”
“Are you still going to show us how to can today?” Cat flashed Gus a hopeful look.
“Of course,” Gus said, grinning. “You have to stay near if Talon needs you, anyway.”
The suggestion filled Cat with warmth. She wanted to be near Talon. It was more than a patient-paramedic relationship and she knew it. But she wasn’t willing to share that awareness with them. It was embarrassing that she wanted to touch him. How could she be drawn so powerfully to him, out of the blue like this?
“Well,” Griff said, and sighed, “I’m going out to the barn. Got to tinker with the tractor engine. And I’ve got plenty of work to fill this day.” He slowly rose and picked up his empty coffee mug to bring to the dishwasher. “You learn the art of canning today. I’ll brave that weather and work out in the barn. I’ll see you at lunch.”
Cat watched the tender glances between Val and Griff. How many times had she wished she had that kind of intimacy and love with a man? She had to be cursed. That was all there was to it.
Gus slowly rose from her chair and Cat turned toward the elder.
“Are you really up for teaching us today, Gus?” Cat knew she had arthritis in the hip she’d broken a year earlier and was moving a lot slower. Weather affected it, too, and today she was walking stiffly.
“Of course,” Gus said, smoothing down the blue apron across her thighs. “I’m going to show you how to can corn, beans and tomatoes.”
Griff sauntered out of the kitchen, threw on his cowboy hat, shrugged into his sheepskin coat and pulled the gloves out of the pocket. “See you ladies at noon.” He grinned and caught Gus’s attention. “What’s for lunch?”
“I’m gonna make a big pot of chicken soup,” she said. “Talon’s gonna need something good and filling to eat and the rest of us can use a hearty soup on a day like this.”
Griff leaned against the entrance, pulling on the gloves. “Miss Gus? Any chance you’re going to make homemade biscuits to go with that soup?”
Gus grinned. “Just for you, Griff, I’ll make a batch.”
“Thank you,” he called. “See you ladies later....”
Val straightened and turned toward Gus. “He loves your biscuits. I wish I could bake them the way you do.”
Gus patted Val’s arm. “Not to worry. I intend to be around until I’m at least a hundred. Griff will get lots of biscuits between now and then,” she said, and chortled.
Cat laughed, finishing off her coffee. She loved being a part of the Hunter and McPherson families. And she was grateful to be hired as a part-time wrangler on her days off to help out Val and Griff. “Make lots, Miss Gus. I love hot, homemade biscuits with butter and honey on them, too.”
Gus shook her head and gave Val a look. “We got a bunch of biscuit eaters on our hands, don’t we, Val?”
“Yes,” Val said, smiling, “we do. I have a hunch when Talon gets better, he’s going to eat a lot of food. He’s so thin.”
Cat washed out her mug in the sink. “He’s way underweight. I looked in his wallet and all he had was a twenty-dollar bill on him. That’s nothing.”
Gus snorted. “He was makin’ sure Zeke was eating and he cheated himself in the process.”
Cat rested her hips against the counter. “Why doesn’t he have more money?”
Val shut the dishwasher. “Because he’s been sending most of his paychecks home to his mother, Cat. And when he got wounded and then discharged from the Navy, his source of income dried up. He’s out of work. Poor guy was probably trying to make it home before he ran out of whatever savings he had.”
“Twenty dollars,” Gus grumbled. “That’s paltry. And why was he walking out in that consarned blizzard?” She shook her silver head. “Makes no good sense to me.”
Val sighed. “Gus, he probably has post-traumatic stress disorder. Talon was in black ops. Those guys are bound to have it big-time.”
Cat frowned. “And that means he couldn’t ride in a bus? Or fly in a plane?”
Val shrugged. “He’s got a combat assault dog at his side. I’d imagine the plane or bus people wouldn’t want the dog on board. My guess is he’s hitched and walked to get back home.”
Cat said nothing, but felt even more deeply for Talon. “And his mother has no money to loan him to get him from the hospital to here. Rough deal.”
Val grimaced. “Being in the military is always tough, Cat. And Talon’s going to have his hands full once he gets back on his feet. Sandy’s in bad shape and the chemo is really taking her down. I worry....”
Because she was a paramedic, Cat knew what chemo did, understood it took a poison to kill a poison, but the person suffered horrendously during the process. “I wish we could do more for Sandy.”
Val picked up some of the mason jars from a box on the floor and started lining them up on the counter. “Talon is coming home at a terrible time. I’m worried he won’t be able to handle it all.”
Cat bent down and put the last of the canning jars on the counter. She picked up the box and got it out of the way. “No one goes through life alone. Maybe Talon’s going to need support himself.”
Val pulled open a drawer and drew out two aprons, handing one to Cat. “We all need help from time to time. He should go see Jordana. She’s an expert on PTSD and helped a lot of vets in this county.”
Gus pulled out a huge kettle and set it in the sink to fill it with water. “Well, that young man has a job here at the Bar H. He’s a hard worker. And once he gets well, Griff is going to need a full-time wrangler to help him. Talon grew up on the Triple H, which was next to our ranch, and then Curt Downing stole it from under Sandy Holt’s nose for a song.”
Cat remembered that Curt Downing was dead, shot by an escaped convict on a trail up in the Tetons. All his holdings, according to his will, went to a nephew by the name of Chuck Harper, who sold the ranch to an Easterner. And he was an even worse person that Downing had been. “I wonder if he’ll sell the Triple H?”
