Lindsay McKenna Read online

  “I was the first paramedic on the scene with my guys. The child died in my arms.” Cat’s mouth quirked, her voice dropping with anguish. “Such a waste of a young life…”

  The silence turned up in volume in the room. Talon pushed his hands slowly down his thighs as he straightened. “I’m sorry,” he said, seeing the tension in her.

  “We were all upset. It wasn’t just me. Most of the guys at the fire department are married and they have kids of their own.” She pushed her fingers through her hair and sat up, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s just so tough on some days….”

  Talon sat back, observing Cat. “How did the guys react?”

  “Well, they certainly didn’t cry. They just jammed the pain deep down inside themselves. They’re fooling themselves, though. You can’t keep that kind of horror and trauma quiet within you forever.”

  Talon winced, thinking about Hayden. His torture. His death, and Talon surviving the horror. “Maybe some of that stuff needs to never see the light of day,” Talon countered.

  Cat lifted her chin and studied Talon. There was darkness in his eyes, a terror banked in them she’d not seen before. What was he hiding? Clearly, he was carrying trauma. “That’s why I cry.” She added wearily, “I go somewhere and hide and cry. I don’t do it front of others. But at least I know how important it is to discharge the awful stuff I see on days like this. I don’t want to carry that emotional crap inside me.”

  Talon wondered if she’d cried as a little girl after her father abused her. Or had she run off to a closet or outside where no one could hear her sobbing the way she’d just cried in his arms? His heart contracted with pain for her. There were so many times when he felt how alone Cat was. Now Talon was beginning to understand why he was feeling it around her. No mother. A mean father. Running and hiding from him, from the pain he’d given her. He gentled his voice and said, “I’m glad you trusted me enough to hold you while you got it out of your system.”

  Cat watched him with sudden serenity. “You’re the first.” Though she wanted to tell him how grateful she was, Cat was still flustered over their kiss.

  The expression on his face was pure caring. “I’m here for you, Cat. Anytime you want to be held, I’m more than happy to do it.” And so much more, but Talon realized he had a long road to walk with Cat. She wasn’t like all the other women in the past who had orbited his structure. If anything, she was already rethinking their kiss, her crying in his arms. He wanted to say so much more but held off.

  Cat got up, unable to remain still any longer. Talon’s voice was like him skimming his hand across her skin. It felt good. Wonderful, even. And she could see the sincerity burning in his thoughtful gray eyes. “All I did was get your shirt wet.”

  Talon stood up and gave her a faint smile. “It’s okay.” He touched the dark splotch where she’d cried on his chambray shirt. “You’re worth it.”

  She stood by the window, tense. “I just need some time alone, Talon. I hope you understand? Thank Val for the food, but I’m really not hungry. Maybe later.”

  *

  TALON COULDN’T SLEEP. The clock on the dresser read 2:00 a.m. Cat was on the other side of the door. He ached to walk in there and be with her, the kiss still lingering hotly in his mind, heart and body. Finally, he said to hell with it and quietly got up and went out to the kitchen for a glass of water.

  Cat started when Talon walked into the kitchen. Zeke was at his side. She gave a little gasp, her hand flying to her chest. “God, you scared the hell out of me!”

  Talon stood there looking at her dressed in a pair of lavender-flowered flannel pajama bottoms and a loose, long-sleeved lavender tee. Her hair was mussed and she still had remnants of a sleepy look on her face despite the fact that he’d just scared the hell out of her. Cat was at the stove stirring something in a pan.

  “Sorry,” Talon muttered. “Couldn’t sleep, either?” He walked into the warm kitchen and went to the cabinet and found a glass.

  “I was hungry,” she admitted. Cat felt her heart pounding in her chest. She frowned and tried not to be swayed by the fact he wore only a pair of light blue pajama bottoms, his upper body naked. The man was terribly good-looking. And Cat could see his ribs were not as pronounced as the morning she’d discovered him on the highway. Talon had a wide, clean set of shoulders, the muscles thick and tight, his chest dusted with dark hair. Just the way he moved, Cat knew he was in good shape. Once again, she noticed the scarring on his back as he turned and took the glass of water to the table and sat down.

  Zeke came over to her, his wet, cold nose pushing against her thigh in greeting. She smiled at the dog and petted him. Zeke then went over to his master and sat next to his chair, watching her.

  The kitchen was silent and warm. Talon wished he’d put on a T-shirt or something. He didn’t want Cat seeing the scars on his back, although he was sure she knew they were there, anyway. He just didn’t want her asking about them just yet.

  Sipping the water, he absorbed her tall, lithe figure at the stove. There was something vulnerable about Cat in her flowery flannel pj’s. He smiled a little, feeling his body stir to life. She looked so young, not the serious paramedic he knew she was. Talon forced himself to stop remembering Cat in his arms. And that hot, hungry kiss they’d shared. The woman was certifiably sexy and sensual. She just didn’t know it.

  “Hungry? What are you making?” he asked.

  “Hot chocolate.” Cat smiled at him. “It cures everything. Didn’t you know?”

  He grinned, moving the glass between his hands on the table. “So you say.”

  “Well,” she said archly, “if you drink a cup before you go to bed, don’t you sleep better?”

  “So far, that’s true.” Gus had needled him into drinking some every night before bedtime. Tonight, he’d forgotten.

  “Did you have a cup tonight before you went to bed?”

  “No.”

  “See?”

  Talon wasn’t about to tell her their kiss had kept him tossing and turning all night. He watched as Cat poured the mixture into her favorite mug. She had the bag of marshmallows on the counter and was dropping lots of them into the cup.

  Zeke whined, his tail thumping as he eagerly watched Cat with the marshmallows.

  “You know you’re spoiling him?” Talon drawled. Like you’re spoiling me.

  Cat grinned once again, brought over her mug and sat down at his elbow. Zeke’s large brown eyes were zeroed in on her. He got up and walked around the chair between them, his large black ears up and his face in begging mode. “One marshmallow? Come on, Talon, you can’t be that mean to your best friend, can you?” Cat picked one of her marshmallows out of her cup and made sure it wouldn’t burn Zeke’s tongue before she offered it to the dog.

  With his long black muzzle, Zeke delicately took the small marshmallow from between her fingers.

  Talon watched his combat dog chew enthusiastically on the tiny marshmallow, an unwilling grin tugging at the corners of Talon’s mouth. Zeke licked his chops, his long pink tongue relishing the sides of his muzzle.

  “Traitor,” he told his dog.

  Cat chuckled and held the mug between her hands, slowly sipping the steaming chocolate. Talon seemed much more relaxed, and her heart beat a little harder in her chest. The only light in the kitchen was coming from over the sink area, throwing deep shadows across the area. It made his face look even more lethal. She wondered what he was like in combat and decided she would never want to run into Talon if she were an enemy. It was the glint in his shadowed gray eyes that made her realize Talon’s constant alertness.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked, holding her softened gaze.

  Cat set down the mug. She licked her lips and felt some of the foam on the corner of her mouth, wiping it away with her fingers. “Better,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. Kept seeing the accident.” She shrugged. “Just another way to work out the trauma.”

  “Crying some more?” He gripped the glass
a little tighter between his large hands.

  “That, too. It takes me days to get over something like this.”

  “Does it happen often in your line of work?”

  “Thank God, no.” Cat gave him a wry look. “You know how much of a softy I am. If my paramedic work was nothing but auto accidents like this type, I couldn’t stay in the career. I…just can’t take the emotional hits. Other paramedics get distance on it, but I never could.”

  “You’re human. You have feelings,” Talon said.

  She slid him a glance. “How did you survive what you did in the SEALs? Val said the kind of work you guys do is all about trauma.”

  “We’re trained for it,” Talon replied gruffly, looking down at the glass.

  Snorting softly, Cat sipped her hot chocolate. “Well, I’m trained, too, but some days are worse than others.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t talk about it, anyway. It’s all top secret.”

  Cat said nothing, enjoying the rich taste of the warm chocolate. Zeke whined and thumped his tail. The dog gave her a pleading look, begging for a second marshmallow.

  She grinned down at him. “You are a real heart stealer. You know that, Zeke?”

  “He doesn’t need another one,” Talon said.

  “Meanie.”

  Zeke whined, as if understanding English, and gave Talon a look that spoke volumes.

  Talon shook his head. “Sugar is bad for you, big guy.”

  Zeke glanced over at Cat. His tail thumped harder and he whined.

  “He’s got your number,” Talon warned her, smiling a little.

  Cat reached out, petting Zeke’s broad brown-and-black head. “Sorry, Zeke. Your master says no. But you are so beautiful.” Like his owner. Talon would probably not like to be described with that word, but he was a gorgeous male specimen. Cat had to stop herself from staring at him. The man could set her on fire with just a look. Or a kiss. “Do you think Jordana will deem you fit for duty tomorrow?” she asked, sliding her hand around her mug.

  “I hope so,” Talon said. “My coughing is gone and I feel strong. Felt good to really work hard yesterday.”

  Cat saw some concern deep in Talon’s eyes. “You can go see Sandy, then.”

  Talon’s gut clenched. He was looking forward to seeing his mother. But he also dreaded it because it meant he had to face the fact she was probably dying. “Yeah,” he said, scowling, not wanting to look into her eyes. Cat was just as highly intuitive as he was. She felt a lot but said little about it to anyone. She was a paramedic. He was a warrior. They both lived in dangerous worlds where bad things happened all around them. The huskiness in her voice just brought up a lot of old grief, as if she understood that his journey with his mother from here on out would be bittersweet at best.

  “I saw her yesterday,” Cat said, regarding him warmly. “I dropped over at noon and read to her on my lunch hour. She was counting the hours until Jordana declares your health good enough for you to visit her. I haven’t seen her this happy or hopeful in a long time.”

  Talon nodded, his lips compressed.

  Cat sensed his trepidation. “Sandy said you lost your father when you were ten. I imagine this brings up a lot of bad memories for you.”

  “Yes and no. When you’re ten years old and your father is suddenly not there in the blink of an eye, it’s shocking. Hard to take. Hard to understand.” At least his father didn’t suffer and for that, Talon was grateful. A quick, fast death was better than a slow one in his world.

  Without thinking, Cat reached out, laying her fingers across his lower arm. Instantly, his flesh tightened and she felt the muscles leap beneath them. Touch had such healing power. “Listen, you’re going to need some help. I’m here for you, Talon. Your mom and I are close and maybe I can help fill in the blanks for you in the years you weren’t here while she was sick.”

  Talon wanted to pick up her hand, kiss it, draw Cat into his arms, but he quickly squashed all those thoughts. The look in her eyes was one of sympathy. Not lust. “Thanks,” he rasped. “There’s a lot I don’t know. It was tough getting leave to come and visit her. My life in black ops pretty much keeps me either in training or deployment overseas.” He called at least every couple of weeks when he was stateside.

  Overseas, he managed a few emails to her, but that was all. And trying to get leave was next to impossible for him. Talon had wanted to visit his mother, but because he was single, the married SEALs got first dibs on leave while training. He didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do about it. Hayden had been in a similar situation and they would bitch to one another about the unfairness of it all. He said they should get married to get leave, but Talon wanted nothing to do with that idea.

  Cat heard the sadness in his voice, saw guilt in his expression. He had not been there when Sandy needed him the most. “Well,” she soothed, “maybe with the way things have worked out, you’ll be here for her now. That’s all she needs at this moment.”

  When she removed her hand, Talon missed her touch. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking the other day.”

  Cat frowned. Nervously, she said, “This is probably none of my business, but have you ever dealt with dying and death? I don’t know that much about black ops or the SEALs.” She was worried he might not understand the journey that dying often took with a person who had a slow-moving disease.

  His eyebrows drew down. “Yeah, I’m just a little familiar with death and dying, Cat.”

  She winced inwardly over the harsh sound in his voice. His eyes had gone flat and hard. And just as quickly, he looked away. The sense of insurmountable grief around Talon bludgeoned her like an invisible sledgehammer. Reeling from the sensation, she sat back, trying to absorb the anguish and grief she suddenly felt around him. The warning look he gave her told her to not ask one word about it. Not one.

  “Sorry,” he said gruffly, finishing off his glass of water and standing up. More than anything, Cat understood the loss of both parents at an early age. And God knew, he wanted to hide in her arms, her body and find solace from the unremitting pain from the past overlaying the present. Hell, he hadn’t even begun to work through the loss of Hayden and now, his mother dying was weighing on him even more. He felt as if his shoulders were weighted with Abrams tanks. Rubbing his bearded jaw, he put the glass on the counter.

  “See you tomorrow morning,” he said abruptly, leaving the kitchen. Zeke followed him.

  “Good night….”

  The kitchen fell silent. The larger-than-life energy of Talon left the kitchen. Cat missed him. She knew he was upset. How badly she’d wanted to get up, stand behind his chair and wrap her arms around his shoulders and just hold him. He had looked so desolate and lost during their conversation about Sandy. She felt it. Something terrible had happened to Talon and it hadn’t been that long ago. All she had to do was see the freshness of the vertical scars across his back and she knew he was carrying a horrific load of trauma within him. Would Talon reach out to her in moments of need or not? Cat wasn’t sure. But she wasn’t going to be put off by his snarling warnings, either. She could help Talon get through this. If he’d let her.

  *

  TALON GIRDED HIMSELF emotionally as he knocked lightly on his mother’s apartment door. Jordana had given him approval to see her, his pneumonia completely gone. Val had told him to take the rest of the day off for this visit. He was grateful to the McPhersons. As a wrangler, they could have insisted he work his eight hours today instead of visiting his mother.

  Talon knew from talking with Cat that the door to her apartment was locked, but there was always a key beneath the doormat, which he had in hand. He heard his mother’s voice through the door and, with trembling hands, he unlocked and opened it. The apartment building was three stories high and worn looking. He knew living in Jackson Hole was tough for people like his mother, which was why most of his paycheck had gone to her. Talon didn’t begrudge his mother at all. She’d grown up on a ranch just outside of town. All her friends an
d support group were here.

  Talon wasn’t prepared to see his mother in a wheelchair. Tears slammed into Talon’s eyes as he closed the door and turned to see her sitting in the living room in such a weakened state. His mother had been a strong, vibrant ranching woman when he was growing up. She was about five foot eight inches tall and sturdy. Talon could recall her during branding season easily hefting young calves off the ground and turning them on their backs. Those calves weighed a goodly amount and Sandy had no trouble with them. She had always been the strength and core of their family in every way.

  Until now.

  Ruthlessly, Talon shoved his tears back. He forced a smile he didn’t feel, trying to deal with the shock over her gaunt condition, her skin sallow looking, and the scarf wrapped around her head, her hair gone.

  “Hey, Mom,” he murmured, coming over to her.

  “Tal!” Sandy cried, pushing herself out of the wheelchair. She stood uncertainly, her arms open to her son. “Thank God, you’re home!” She swept her thin arms around his broad shoulders, holding him with all her strength.

  Talon held his mother as if she were a fragile, breakable egg. She buried her face against his shoulder and sobbed. Closing his eyes tightly, fighting not to cry with her, Talon held her. God, tears from two women he cared deeply about in less than twenty-four hours. Talon wasn’t sure he could handle the excessive emotions. He awkwardly patted her gently on the back. He could feel how bony her spine and ribs felt beneath his fingers. It tore him up. Tears squeezed out of his eyes.

  Finally, Sandy released him, patting him weakly on his shoulder. She smiled brokenly up into her son’s hard face. Seeing the tears in his gray eyes, she slid her hand against his cheek. “You look so good, Tal. I’m glad you’re here. Thank you… I love you so much.”

  Talon nodded, his throat tight, a lump growing larger by the second. “I love you, too, Mom. Come on, you need to sit down.” He guided her to the wheelchair. Once she was sitting, he picked up the edges of her blue robe and drew them across the white flannel nightgown she wore. He tried to keep the shock out of his face over her deteriorated condition.