High Country Rebel
Grimly, Talon sighed. “It was a close call, Miss Gus.”
“Well, you weren’t meant to die just yet.”
Flinching inwardly, memories of Hayden and him strung up, being tortured, slammed into Talon. Hayden did die. Talon had almost died but clung to life until Zeke brought help and he had been rescued, a hairbreadth from death himself. His throat tightened and he croaked, “Yeah, it wasn’t my time.”
“The soup good?”
“Wonderful,” Talon admitted, suddenly emotional. “I remember you making me those chocolate-chip cookies when I was a kid, Miss Gus. I knew your chicken soup would be good.” Tears pricked the backs of his eyes and Talon quickly willed them away. “You and your family have been very kind to me and I appreciate it.” Shame flowed through him. He wanted to tell Miss Gus why he’d sunk to such an all-time low, a homeless vet, without money, without any support, but he couldn’t go there. At least, not yet. His focus was on his mother, Sandy, not himself or trying to explain why he was in this predicament.
Gus pulled out her cell phone and handed it to him. “Listen, you call Sandy. Lord knows, she’s on tenterhooks waiting for your call.” She waved her finger at him. “But you can’t go see her, Talon. You could give her your bacterial pneumonia and she’s on chemo right now. If she caught your pneumonia, she could die. Okay?”
He nodded, opening the cell phone, seeing that Gus had put his mother’s number up on the screen. “Got it,” he rasped.
Gus stood up. “Okay, you call her. And oh, tell her that once you’re well, you’re a full-time wrangler at the Bar H.” Her eyes gleamed with pleasure. “We need help here, Talon. And I can’t think of hiring anyone better than you. Are you agreeable?”
Agreeable? Hell, he was downright grateful. Tears burned in his eyes. Again, Talon shoved them deep down inside himself. Into what SEALs referred to as their kill box. That’s where all their unwanted emotions, good or bad, were shoved. Never to see the light of day again. That way, he could continue to function, continue to be a warrior on the front lines, not distracted by human feelings. Clearing his throat, he said, “Yes, that’s agreeable, Miss Gus. Thank you.”
“Good. Now, I’m having Cat fix up a small bedroom down the hall from my room here. Cat always takes the room next to yours. She’s getting yours ready for you right now. After calling Sandy, if you feel up to it, we’ll move you to your permanent room here in the house until you’re well. Will that work?”
Talon’s mouth pulled into a grin. “That will work, Miss Gus. Thank you.”
She limped to the door. “My granddaughter, Val, and her husband, Griff, agreed to hire you. It wasn’t just me who wanted you. I told them you’d grown up next door and were pushing cattle around and mending fences since you were a kid. We’ll all be happy you’re here with us, Talon.” She waved a finger at him. “Come out to the kitchen when you’re done speakin’ to your mom if you’re up to it. You are so skinny it’s scary. You need to eat some of my freshly made biscuits with some strawberry jam I made last August.”
Talon felt new warmth flow into his heart. Hope, maybe. He had a job, thank God. It was the one thing he desperately needed. Talon tried not to think about everything, focusing in on calling his mother. His heart wrenched as he punched in her phone number. He tried to shore up his emotions. How he wanted to be with her, hug and hold her. A phone call was going to have to do for right now. He was just grateful he was alive to give her a call in the first place. Talon didn’t want her to know how close he’d come to dying this morning. Or before that, either. He wanted her focusing on herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
TALON SQUEEZED HIS eyes shut, desperately trying to stop the tears after he finished the emotional phone call to his mother. He gripped the cell phone so hard he thought he might destroy it. Finally, he dropped it on the bed beside him.
Zeke came over, whining. Blindly, Talon reached out, rubbing the dog’s dark ears, something he enjoyed. It felt as if there were a bunch of writhing, angry snakes in his tight gut. Unconsciously, Talon rubbed the area, still fighting back the tears that wanted to fall.
His mother sounded like she was dying. As if she’d given up. Talon understood it better than most. He’d given up this morning out on that highway.
Lifting his head, Talon blinked back the tears, angrily stuffed them into his kill box and glared around the bedroom. A sense of suffocating helplessness overcame him. His shoulders sagged and he leaned over, pressing his brow against Zeke’s broad head. The dog whined and pressed his seventy-five-pound body in between his legs, always a sign of affection and care toward his master.
Chest tight, his throat aching, Talon ran his long hands across Zeke’s soft, dry fur. “What the hell am I going to do, Zeke?” His voice cracked. “What?” It felt comforting to have his dog pressed against his leg. How many times in Afghanistan had Zeke done this? Known when he was upset, needing a doggy hug? So damn many times. This dog had saved his life so many times that Talon had lost count.
Lifting his head, Talon shoved the tears away. He glanced at the clock on the dresser. Four-thirty. Dinner would be at six. Miss Gus had asked him to come to the kitchen but, dammit, he didn’t want to. The thought of talking to anyone right now, with the exception of Cat, rubbed him raw.
Talon needed her. He yearned for Cat’s quiet sense of stability, her husky, honeyed voice soothing his rough, jagged and exposed edges. Every time Cat touched him, he felt a moment’s peace. She gave him a corner of quiet in a violent, stress-filled world of combat that lived and raged inside him nonstop. Six months in a hospital had done nothing but agitate him. The only thing that had healed was his physical body. God, he needed Cat. She was like a battle dressing around his bleeding heart. Talon felt as if he were hemorrhaging emotionally.
His mother was dying.
Just then a soft knock came at the door. Talon scrambled to control his feelings. The only person he wanted to see was Cat. Anyone else, and he’d send them away, telling them he was too sick to get out of bed. It was the truth.
“Who is it?” he called, his voice harsh.
The door opened. Cat peered in. “It’s just me. Do you need anything?”
As he stared at her, his heart started to pound. “Come in,” he said. Relief flowed deep and strong through him as she quietly entered and closed the door behind her.
“You talk to your mom?” Cat asked hesitantly, standing uncertainly by the end of his bed. Talon looked pale. His eyes were dark and anguished. No doubt, he was upset. Zeke sat between his opened legs, Talon’s long fingers stroking the dog’s head and ears. The way his mouth was pursed, Cat knew what Talon knew: Sandy Holt was slowly dying. Her heart wrenched with grief for Talon. All she wanted to do was slide her arms around his shoulders. Talon really needed it. But Cat was unsure he’d accept her embrace.
“Yeah, I just got done talking to her.” The words came out hard-edged, laden with emotion. Talon looked over and patted the bed next to him. “Come and sit down.” He searched her blue eyes, silently pleading for her nearness.
“Sure,” she whispered, walking over. Cat sat down, leaving a foot between them. She remembered him warning her not to touch him. But what would Talon do if she suddenly embraced him? He needed touch, kind words. “How are you doing?” she ventured, looking and holding his tormented gaze.
“Not good,” Talon said roughly. “My mom’s dying.”
Cat rubbed her hands slowly between her thighs. “She’s fought so long, so hard, Talon. Sandy’s tired....”
Savagely rubbing his face, he wanted to cry. Cat’s subdued voice was a healing balm to his ravaged heart. Talon had no way to stop the grief awakened in him once again. He had thought that in the year since Hayden had died, the grief would recede. Now it was there again at the same intensity, glaring at him, raking his heart over cut glass once more. Talon wasn’t sure he could take another personal death. Hayden had been a brother to him, and his mother, whom he loved deeply, was now slipping away.
Cat took a huge risk and reached out, slid her hand across his shoulder. She felt his skin tighten beneath her fingertips, felt his muscles leap. “I’m so sorry, Talon. So sorry...”
Her touch broke something wide-open. He made a sound, maybe a sob, maybe a cry for help that had never been released. Raggedly whispering her name, Talon swept Cat into his arms. He buried his head against her shoulder and jaw, his breath uneven, his heart raw. Talon held her so tight he thought he might be squeezing the life out of her. He could smell the sweet scent of Cat’s skin beneath her shirt. She smelled of fragrant almond. The silken strands of hair trapped between his cheek and her shoulder reminded him of an apple pie cooking in the oven, the hint of cinnamon encircling his flared nostrils.
A soft gasp tore from Cat as Talon turned and inexplicably hauled her into his arms, crushing her against him. It was so unexpected, but so right and so wonderful. Without thinking, Cat curved her arms around his tense shoulders, tightening them, holding him near. She closed her eyes, feeling his ragged, moist breath against her shoulder, his need for human contact. Talon trembled in her arms, and Cat could feel him fighting back tears, struggling to stop so many awful emotions from erupting.
“It’s going to be okay, Talon,” she whispered. “Just breathe. Take this one minute at a time. I’ll help you get through it.” Cat was shocked at the words tearing unthinkingly out of her mouth. She couldn’t stop them. Cat soothed him with her hand, her fingers skimming across his back, smoothing the flannel shirt here and there. Gradually, she felt him begin to relax in her arms. Begin to give over his steel control to her. She’d seen this reaction before in traumatic car crashes, the shock starting to wear off the survivors, their need for comfort.
“It’s a path you have to walk, but you don’t have to walk it alone. I’ll be here for you. Gus, Val and Griff will be here, too. It’s going to be hard, but you’ll survive.” Tears jammed into Cat’s eyes as she haltingly spoke the words. Talon’s response was to hold her even tighter, crushing her against him, clinging to her as if she were his only anchor in his world of chaos and if he released her, he’d be lost. Closing her eyes, Cat relaxed completely in his grip. She felt the hard thud of his heart against her. Felt her breasts pressed against his chest wall.
And when Cat threaded her fingers through his clean, silky hair, he trembled violently. How long had Talon gone without care? She continued her ministrations because she felt Talon relax in her arms, loosen his grip around her. She smiled to herself, grateful for all her experience as a paramedic to know what to do. She knew all about dying and death. She’d grown up in a household where she was unsure from one day to the next whether she’d be breathing.
Her fingers moved from his hair to the nape of his strong neck. Cat thought she heard Talon groan but, then, figured she was making it up. There was such secret pleasure in exploring his flesh. All this had done was fuel a hunger she’d never experienced before. She was shocked by her body’s response to him. This had nothing to do with her mind—it had to do with his being so damn sensual. Being around him made her feel needy.
Talon knew he had to release Cat. It was the last thing he wanted to do. God, she was strong and soft at the same time. He absorbed her warmth like a famished man. She was relaxed in his grip, surrendering to him. Trusting him. Talon felt like a thief. Cat gave herself to him freely and without reservation, holding him, stroking him and feeding him in so many invisible ways.
And all Talon could think about was pulling Cat down on the bed, kissing her senseless, taking her, filling her, running from all those dirty emotions that were eating away at him right now. If he could just bury himself into her soft, wet confines, the world would go away for a while. Sex was the greatest mindblower of them all. It stopped him from thinking. His feelings were channeled into pleasuring the woman, pleasuring himself and the powerful emotions of lust that would ripple through his body. It would erase all the grief. The terror. The anxiety. Everything. It was the most powerful medication in the world. Oh, God, he ached to take Cat, make her his woman, make her his.
Reason started creeping back into Talon’s brain. Cat must have had a significant other or she was married. That made his heart cringe with renewed grief. He’d never met a woman like her. She was a healer. She could heal him, he just knew it. Sensed it to the black depths of his fractured soul. Now he had to release her. He didn’t dare kiss her. Because if he ever touched that mouth of hers, he would be lost. And he’d want her like he’d never wanted anything so badly in his life.
Talon had to let Cat go. Finally, he eased his arms from around her and lifted his head from her shoulder. As he looked up into her eyes, his heart crashed. He wanted to cry. Her eyes burned with love and care for him. Just for him. And her mouth, damn, her lips were parted and tears streamed down her cheeks, nestling into the corners of her mouth. She was crying for his sorry-assed soul.
Shaken, Talon stared at her in the thickening silence. No one had cried for him before, except his mother when he was a young child. And Cat was crying for him, for the coming loss of his mother, who meant the world to him. He’d already lost his father. Then he’d lost Hayden. Now...oh, God, now his mother was leaving him, too.
The loneliness gutted him wide-open. The emotional rawness was tempered only by Cat’s arms still loosely placed around his shoulders as she stared without apology for the tears in her eyes. He made a sound in his throat, lifted his hands and used his thumbs to remove her tears.
“Don’t cry for me,” he growled. He wasn’t worthy of her tears. His life was a train wreck. He didn’t deserve this kind of care....
Closing her eyes, Cat felt his callused thumbs brush the tears from her cheeks. Her throat tightened, the lump growing. She wanted to burst out into sobs for him, for what she felt around him that he’d never released. She lifted her lashes as his hands fell away from her face. How she missed his touch! Sniffing, Cat eased her arms from around his shoulders. With trembling fingers, she wiped the tears from her lashes.
“It’s okay to cry, Talon,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “It’s good for the soul.” Seeing the look in his stormy eyes, Cat knew he wasn’t accepting her whispered words at all. “Think of crying as a way to discharge the infection, the toxins, the awful emotions you’re carrying around inside of you, cleaning you out. That’s a good thing.” Cat reached out, trailing her fingers tenderly across his cheek.
Talon placed a steel hold on himself. Never mind he had an erection pressing painfully against his jeans. Never mind what he saw in Cat’s half-closed, drowsy blue eyes as she’d grazed his cheek. One part of him said she’d touched his cheek out of compassion. Care. The other part, the dark, male part of him, the sexual hunter who wanted her, read her touch as a way to let him know she wanted him.
Talon felt like a mess. He was still sicker than a dog, still had a fever, wasn’t breathing all that well and he’d just talked to his dying mother. No way in hell could he sort out Cat’s response to him. And he cared enough about her not to try. Cat sat there looking so innocent, the compassion clear in her gaze. Getting a grip on himself, Talon forced himself to put his hands on his thighs, not on her.
“Your mom is a fighter, Talon,” Cat said, her voice raspy. “I came to Jackson Hole seven years ago and met her right after she’d gotten cancer the first time. I’d met her at Mo’s Ice Cream Parlor where she worked as a waitress. We became really good friends and when I saw her looking bad one day, I asked her what was wrong.” Cat stared down at her clasped hands in her lap. “I told her I’d be there for her and I have been ever since. Your mom loves books, and when the chemo really got her down and she was too weak to work, I’d go over on my lunch hour when I had the shift at the fire department, and read to her. She loves her books so much.” Cat managed a small smile, holding his flat, dark look. “Maybe...if things work out, you might support her by going over to read to her every once in a while. I know she’d love that. She loves you so much.”
Talon hung his head, grappling with the knowledge. “Yeah,” he rasped, “I know she does. She used to read to me as a kid. I always looked forward to her coming into my bedroom every night and she’d read a chapter from a book.” The memory was sweet. Filled with love. Talon had always looked forward to that special time with his mother.
“Sandy told me,” Cat admitted softly. “Over the years, she brought out all her photo albums.” She gave him a tender look. “I guess you might say I got to know you from the time you born. Sandy is so proud of you, Talon. I knew you were in the Navy, went into the SEALs and she really didn’t have much in the photo album from recent times except for the few pictures you sent back to her when you were in Afghanistan.”
Wincing internally, Talon remembered those photos he’d sent her. They were all of Hayden and him or Zeke. His mother loved animals and he could email her about Zeke. He could never tell her about his missions or anything that had happened on them, but she loved his stories about Zeke. His heart clenched with renewed grief. Cat had seen photos of him and Hayden together, their arms across one another’s shoulders, their M-4 rifles propped on their hips, grinning like fools into the camera after a twelve-hour patrol. He dragged in a shallow breath, the pneumonia still not allowing him to take a deep one.
“I’m glad you’ve been here for my mom,” he admitted, giving her a quick look of sincere thanks. His heart contracted. There were still tears in her eyes. Cat was too easily touched. He felt helpless to fix this.
“Sandy’s a wonderful person,” Cat said quietly. “And I can see so much of her in you. She has been such a strong member of our community. She did a lot of volunteer work before she got sick. Now all those people she’s helped over the years have turned around to help her. You need to know your mom is greatly loved, Talon. Gwen Garner, who owns the quilting store, has her club members see Sandy weekly. In fact, it’s Gwen who gave all of us a monthly visiting schedule. Your mom gets lots of company every day. Gus fixes her a dinner once a week and I drive it over to her. A lot of the quilters make her breakfast or lunch.” The darkness in Talon’s eyes lightened, some of the tension around his hard, thinned mouth dissolved. “About fifty people volunteer to help Sandy. I don’t want you to think your mom has been abandoned. We’ve embraced her and she’s as happy as she can be. And now you’re home.” Cat’s voice grew stronger with feeling. “I know how much she’s been looking forward to this. You’ll give her a level of hope and care none of us ever could. This is the time when she needs you at her side.”
Nodding, he stared down at Zeke, who had laid his head on his thigh. “She sounds so damned weak.” And it scared the hell out of him to realize how close she was to dying. When he’d call her from the Naval Hospital, about once a week, she was always cheerful, upbeat and hopeful. Not now.
Cat placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. “She is weak. It’s the chemo. And I know you’re feeling pretty weak yourself right now. It’s going to take about two weeks for you to throw off this pneumonia and begin feeling halfway human. Did Sandy understand you couldn’t see her right away?”
“Yeah, I lied a little.” Talon absorbed Cat’s touch, desperate for more contact with her. He’d wanted to kiss her. Make love to her. How she sensed his needs was beyond him, but he was grateful anyway. “I made light of my pneumonia because I didn’t want her to worry. She knows I can’t be sick and visit her or it could impact her lowered immune system in a major way.”
“I think calling her daily will be a huge emotional boost for her,” Cat murmured, smiling a little. She couldn’t keep her hands off Talon. Just simply moving her fingers across his shoulder sent heated signals to her lower body. Wanting. Just him. Just Talon. Cat removed her hand. There was so much uncharted emotional territory with this man and she couldn’t trust herself.
“I can at least do that,” Talon agreed, his voice gravelly. His flesh was tingling, heat radiating from where her fingertips had rested. Did Cat know her power over him? That she gently held his heart between her work-worn hands? That any contact with her made him grow hard? The innocence in her expression stunned him. She was old enough to understand a woman’s ability to inflame a man. Talon wanted to know everything about Cat. His finely honed sixth sense told him her innocence was real, that she wasn’t worldly.
Something...God, he knew something terrible or traumatic had happened to Cat to make her this way. And his sexual response to her was like that of a hungry wolf. She’d saved his life, brought him back from the brink of death. She sure as hell deserved a helluva lot more than him stalking her like a selfish bastard. Talon moved his hands slowly up and down his thighs, scowling. Unhappy with himself.
“I need to check your lungs and get your temperature,” Cat told him, forcing herself to move. A chance to touch him again, but this time, it really was about checking Talon’s temperature and making sure he stayed on the road to recovery. “Can you lie down?”
“Yeah,” Talon grunted, easing Zeke from between his legs and then lying down on the bed. He watched Cat through half-closed eyes. When she looped the stethoscope around her neck, he couldn’t help saying, “Whoever the guy is in your life, he’s one lucky bastard.”
Cat’s eyebrows moved up and she froze for a moment. She stared at Talon on the bed. He was a big man and his hands were tucked behind his head, his expression curious. She managed a short laugh. “There’s no one in my life.” She reached down into her bag and retrieved the handheld Braun ThermoScan thermometer.
“Why?” Talon cursed himself for his bluntness. Pain flashed across Cat’s face as she sat down on the bed.
“I have bad luck with men in general,” she admitted. Opening his shirt and folding it open, she listened to his lungs.
Talon stared up at her. Cat had problems with men? He watched her closely as she listened intently through her stethoscope. When she was finished, he asked, “So, you’re not seeing anyone presently?”
She picked up the ThermoScan and eased it into his ear. “That’s right.” Shame flowed through Cat. Her latest bad choice involved Beau Magee, a truck driver with Ace Trucking. As she removed the thermometer, she murmured, “Good, your temp is ninety-nine degrees.” She smiled down into his troubled-looking eyes. “That antibiotic is really taking hold.”
“And my lungs? How do they sound?” He absorbed her every move, her every expression. That smile of hers was like sunlight piercing the heavy darkness of his mangled heart and broken soul.
“Improving. Still crackling sounds, but less so.” She patted his hand. “You’re really going to have to rest for two weeks, Talon. If you overdo it, you’ll relapse.”
“I’m not the type to sit around.”
“Yeah,” Cat said, and chuckled, getting up and walking to her medical bag. “I got that. You’re a man of action.”
“Being a SEAL, you’re on the move all the time. I get antsy if I have to stay anywhere for more than fifteen minutes.”
As she leaned down to put her equipment away, he truly appreciated her rear, those generous hips. It was too bad she didn’t wear clothes that fit her a little better. Everything Cat wore hung on her, as if she were hiding her body within the folds of the fabric. She should be proud of it, showing it off.
Straightening, Cat turned and grinned at him. “Well, you’d best give yourself a talking-to about that, because as bad a case of pneumonia as you have, enforced rest is mandatory.”