High Country Rebel

Gus snorted. “I’m having Griff look into it. We need more land and it makes sense to buy it. The present owner did nothing with it except try to put condos on it. Thank the good Lord that the mayor said no to his plan.”

Gus had made a lot of money off the sale of her own ranch on the other side of Wyoming decades earlier. She didn’t know exactly how much, but Griff had an MBA from Harvard and was now taking care of the woman’s money for her. Gus had told her one time that Griff was making her a lot of interest and she was very happy to have her son-in-law handle the finances. “If you could buy the Triple H, that would make Sandy and Talon happy.”

Gus nodded, then became sad. “It was such a shame Sandy’s second husband, Bradley, died in that auto accident. He was in the process of expanding the ranch, doing good things with it. But Sandy wasn’t up to dealing with the ranch after his death. And then, suddenly, there was the cancer. Griff’s going over to see about the ranch after the blizzard is done blowing through. I’d really like to buy the Triple H. Fingers crossed.”

Cat smiled to herself. Gus was a big thinker and dreamer. But she had the money, the smarts and Griff helping her to make her vision come true. Gus was unstoppable when she wanted something.

Cat heard Zeke urgently begin to bark.

“Uh-oh,” Gus muttered, peering toward the hallway. “That dog’s barking. Wonder what’s wrong?”

“I’ll go see,” Cat said, hurrying out of the kitchen. Her heart amped up a little as she opened the door. Zeke instantly whined, wagging his tail at the doorway. He turned around and hurried to the bed.

Cat frowned and quietly shut the door. Talon Holt was sitting up, his long legs hanging over the edge of the bed, most of the covers pulled aside. His maleness struck her. He was naked, his body massive and powerful even though he was underweight. His head was hanging almost on his chest, his large hands gripping the mattress to stay upright. Only a few blankets lay across his hard, thick thighs. His feet were large, his legs spaced apart as if to stop him from keeling forward and falling off the bed. She heard his labored, rasping breaths. Her eyes widened as she saw he’d yanked the IV out of his right arm, bright red blood streaming down his forearm. No wonder Zeke was barking.

“Talon?” she asked, keeping her voice low and soothing as she walked toward him.

He barely raised his head, his eyes slits as he regarded her.

Cat felt sudden alarm. Talon was pale, breathing hard, his eyes glassy looking. She crouched down in front of him to make eye contact. “Did you take your IV out?” Did she dare touch him? He was different when he was awake. He’d been so approachable in sleep. Now he trembled, as if it took every last bit of his strength for him to remain upright.

“Yeah,” he managed with a croak.

“I need to stop the bleeding,” Cat said softly. She slowly reached out, placing her fingers on his right hand. His fingers dug deeply into the mattress. When she touched him, he winced. Instantly, she withdrew her hand. Something was wrong. She sensed it.

“Talon, you’re safe. You’re here at the Bar H. My name is Cat Edwin and I’m a paramedic. I’m here to help you. Will you let me touch you?”

He scowled, staring sightlessly past her, his attention on something else she couldn’t fathom. Was he hallucinating? The way his naked shoulders were bunched, Cat felt in danger herself. Maybe it was overreaction from her past, from her childhood. And then she saw him lift his chin and look directly at her.

“Blue?”

Cat stared, her lips parting. “Blue? Who’s Blue?” she asked softly. And then tears came into his murky gray eyes. He seemed to fight them back. He swallowed convulsively several times.

Talon had to be hallucinating. Cat eyed the dark red blood still leaking from the IV wound. He must have ripped it out of his arm, because the flesh looked torn and ragged. She had to stop the bleeding and get him to see and hear her instead of whatever held him prisoner.

Slowly getting up, she called Zeke over. She guided the dog over to Talon.

“Talon? This is your dog, Zeke. He needs you to pet him. He’s worried about you.”

Zeke began licking the blood off Talon’s arm, whining and anxious.

Holding her breath, Cat watched Talon slowly blink a few times. His mouth opened and then closed. His eyes became harder and more focused on the dog sitting between his legs. The dog was thumping his tail against the pine floor, the only sound in the room. Talon slowly released the fingers of one hand from the mattress and he laid his hand on the dog’s broad skull. A little fear left her and she slowly unwound from her crouched position.

“Talon? I’m going to fix your arm. Is it okay if I touch you?” Cat stood uncertainly, her own senses telling her that if he wasn’t yet here with her and Zeke and if she touched him again, he might lash out at her. She had no experience with soldiers or anyone with PTSD. Druggies, yeah. But not this. And she knew enough to go slow, to allow Talon to process her request.

Zeke whined, reaching up, licking Talon’s bearded cheek.

“Yeah...go ahead,” he rasped thickly, his gaze fixed on his dog.

Relief sped through Cat. She went to her medical bag, drew out items and then walked to his side. Putting on a pair of gloves, she cleaned the area inside his right arm and quickly patched it up, halting the bleeding. There was a bowl of water on the dresser and she took the washcloth and wiped away the blood left on his arm and hand. When she crouched down to gently pry his fingers out of the mattress, she felt the heat of his stare on her. Her skin prickled and her heart took off in an unsteady beat. He turned his large hand over for her and she saw the many calluses across his fingers and palm. After wiping his hand free of blood, she placed Talon’s hand back on the mattress.

“You okay?” she asked, meeting his eyes. There was clarity now in them. Huge gray eyes with large black pupils staring intently at her. For a second, Cat’s imagination took off. He was the hunter. She was the prey. Oddly, she didn’t feel threatened. Instead, she felt her womb contract. Felt the heat of his intense stare, the utter masculinity of him, the power of him as a man. It excited her and simultaneously scared her.

No man had ever made her feel hot, needy and achy in her lower body. But Talon did. In spades. Gulping, Cat stood up and quickly moved to the dresser to rinse out the bloody washcloth. What the hell was going on with her? Licking her lip nervously, Cat cast a glance over her shoulder. Talon had lain back down, drawing the blankets haphazardly across his lower body. His eyes were closed.

Zeke lay down by his bed.

Watching the dog helped Cat understand what was going on with Talon Holt. He’d also ripped off the cannula that had given him extra oxygen and it lay on the floor next to the broken IV line. She picked them both up and shut off the IV. Did she dare sit down beside him as she had before? No, she couldn’t. Her throat went tight and she found it hard to breathe for a moment.

As she worked near the bed, she felt his eyes open and focus on her again. Looking up, he was watching her. Cat muttered, “I’m cleaning up.”

He barely nodded his head.

Her hands were shaky. Cat removed the IV and placed it in her medical bag. She wrapped up other equipment.

“I remember you.”

Cat froze for moment. Talon’s voice was deep and hoarse. But he was awake and alert. Considering his medical condition, she was stunned by the strength of his tone and the clarity in his eyes. “What do you remember?” she asked.

“How beautiful your eyes were after you stopped to help me and Zeke.”

CHAPTER FOUR

CAT WAS BRINGING Zeke back from a potty break an hour later. She pushed open the bedroom door. Talon jerked and suddenly sat up, tense, breathing harshly. His hands were curled into fists, raised as if ready to strike. Surprised, Cat anchored just inside the entrance. The man’s narrowed eyes went black. Instantly, her heart started to pound. What was going on?

“Talon? It’s me, Cat. It’s all right,” she managed, her fingers tightening around Zeke’s leather collar. The dog whined, his gaze riveted upon his master.

Talon stared hard at her. His breath came in gasps, his chest heaving with sudden exertion. Slowly, he lowered his hands and unfisted them. “What the hell are you doing?” he snarled.

Stung and shocked, Cat kept her anger closeted. “I just took your dog out.”

Talon wiped his face and uttered a curse under his breath. It was a bad idea to wake him suddenly, as if he were still in the middle of a nightmare. “Yeah...okay...thanks,” he muttered and lay down on the bed, throwing his arm across his closed eyes.

What had just happened?

Shaken, Cat released Zeke. The dog instantly trotted over to the bed, wagging his tail. She quietly closed the door, her heart banging away in her tightened throat. The expression on Talon’s face scared the hell out of her. He looked savage. Lethal.

As she moved closer to his bedside, she could see that Talon’s color was better. He dragged his arm off his face, opened his eyes and stared grumpily up at her.

“I need to listen to your lungs and take your temperature,” she offered by way of explanation.

“Do it,” he rasped, closing his eyes again, his mouth a single line.

Zeke whined and then sat down next to the bed. Cat gathered the equipment from her medical bag at the end of the bed. She hesitantly sat down, her hip brushing against his. His eyes snapped open, a fierce look in them. She recognized an adrenaline surge when she saw one. Cat felt badly. The man didn’t need any more shock or trauma than he presently had.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” she murmured, holding his dark, turbulent-looking gaze. Even his nostrils were flared, and he was still dragging in and releasing short, sharp breaths. Yeah, she was no stranger to adrenaline, understood its effects from her firefighting duties.

“Whatever you do from now on,” Talon growled, “don’t ever come over and touch me while I’m sleeping.” He dug into her gaze. “I could hurt you very badly, Cat, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”