Lindsay McKenna - High Country Rebel

“We can do that.” She crinkled her face and looked up at Cat. “Hungry?”

Groaning, Cat said, “Yes, I’m starving.”

“Go on out to the kitchen. I got a plate of vittles waitin’ for you. I’ll stay with Talon until you get back.”

Griff set a bowl of kibble down in front of Zeke. “Val’s got the coffee poured for you, Cat.”

Cat hesitated, not wanting to leave Talon. It was a silly, emotional reaction. Zeke dived into the bowl of kibble as if starved. “Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I finish.”

* * *

VAL MET CAT out in the kitchen.

“How’s Talon doing?”

Cat sat down and told her. She grabbed the cup of coffee and took a sip. “This is great. Thanks, Val.” The red-haired woman sat down opposite her. Val’s hair was pulled back in a long ponytail. She wore a heavy cream-colored fisherman knit sweater, jeans and boots.

“Someone should call Sandy Holt,” Cat said between bites.

“I’ll do it,” Val said. She frowned. “Sandy’s not in good shape. Should we tell her how bad Talon is?”

Cat shook her head. “Just tell Sandy that Talon’s here and a little under the weather.”

“She’ll want to know when Talon can see her.”

“Sandy’s immune system is really down,” Cat warned. “As long as he’s sick, he can’t visit her or she could contract the pneumonia. It might finish her off.”

Val nodded and picked up her cup of coffee. “That’s what I was thinking. Maybe we need to tell her he’s got pneumonia and she’ll understand why her son can’t see her right now?”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Cat said. “But say it in such a way that she doesn’t worry. The poor woman has enough stress.”

“I know,” Val said softly. “I feel helpless.”

“Me, too.” Cat knew Val had left her career as an Air Force officer to come home to help Gus keep the Bar H alive. She wasn’t a woman who scared easily at all. And once a week, Gus and Val went to visit Sandy Holt. Talon’s mother was destitute, having lost her job at Mo’s Ice Cream Parlor two months ago because the cancer had come back and was twice as virulent as before. Cat made a point of dropping in to read to her and stay with her for at least a couple of hours once a week. Gwen Garner, who owned the quilting store, had a number of quilters who came over to visit weekly with Sandy and help her where and when they could. Cat felt her heart twinge. Now her son was in dire need of help himself. But that was what a small community did—it rallied those who were weak, sick or in need of help.

“Do you think Talon can talk to her directly?”

Shaking her head, Cat said, “He’s unconscious. And he’s got major trouble breathing. I’m hoping—” and she held up crossed fingers “—that he responds to the antibiotic. Maybe in a couple of days he can talk to her.”

“It sounds like Talon should be in the hospital.”

“Really. But it’s going to take two days to clear the roads after this blizzard leaves,” Cat griped unhappily. She finished everything on her plate and took a sip of her coffee.

Val frowned. “That bad?”

“Yeah. I’m sure they’d put him in the ICU if we could get him to the hospital.”

“Could he die?” Val asked, worried.

“I don’t think he will,” Cat said. “He’s young and he’s strong, although, he’s terribly underweight and dehydrated.”

“Gus said Talon was wounded a year ago. Bad wound, whatever that meant. He might have just gotten out of the hospital?”

“I saw a lot of scars on his back and shoulders.” Again, Cat’s heart ached for Talon. Thanks to an abusive father, she was usually wary of men. Inexplicably, Talon had worked through the protective walls she had up against men in general—he’d gotten to her—and that was disconcerting. But she couldn’t dwell on this right now.

Val stood. “God, the guy has been through his own hell,” she muttered, going to the coffeepot and pouring herself another cup.

“You were in the military,” Cat said, watching her come back and sit down. “What do you know about SEALs?”

“They’re Navy black ops. I worked with them on some missions over in Iraq when I was stationed in the Middle East. I was an intelligence officer in the Air Force and, sometimes, we’d have joint missions with them, Army Special Forces and Air Force PJs.” She sipped her coffee. “Those guys go where angels fear to tread, Cat. They’re the best of the best at black ops. And they take the fight to the enemy. No fear.”

“Assertive?”

Val smiled a little. “For sure. Type-A personalities with egos just as big. They’re used to working as a team. Even though SEALs are U.S. Navy, they are found globally on sea, air and land. Talon was with SEAL Team 3 from what his mother told me. He was a shooter. A guy who was out with a rifle fighting Taliban and al Qaeda over in Afghanistan.”

“I know nothing about the military,” Cat admitted. And then she brightened and grinned over at Val. “With the exception of you, of course.”

“I’m a cowgirl now,” Val said, smiling.

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.