Chapter 6 Tarron
TARRON
“Storm’s coming.” I pushed ahead, my steps slowing.
The thigh-deep snow sucked all the energy from me. I panted, the icy, thin air doing little to help with my fatigue.
Sweat threatened, and I forced a deep breath as I stopped to check the gray storm clouds touching the horizon.
Reed followed my line of sight, his lips spreading in a grin. “Excellent. It’ll cover our tracks.”
I scowled at him, and he laughed.
“Sorry, Tarron. You did great work covering our tracks. The storm is additional support. Think of it as an airstrike prepped and ready even though we’re on the ground taking care of business.”
Maverick kept going, though Reed and I had stopped.
He had to be exhausted, we all were, but he’d carried Payton the entire way.
Every time we suggested he let one of us help, he looked almost feral as he denied our assistance.
We’d stopped asking.
Reed and I knew better than to poke this particular bear when he reached this stage.
Reed was tempted.
I saw it in the way he eyed Maverick’s retreating form. “You might want to take a break, big guy. You don’t even know if you’re going the right way.”
Maverick grunted and lifted his leg for another step.
Reed rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
The clouds turned into a roiling fury that whipped snow up from around us and whirled it in dizzying loops.
Tiny ice particles dug into my cheeks and eyes. “How much further?”
“Almost there.” Reed pushed ahead of Maverick, using his legs to break a trail for Maverick to follow.
Less than a dozen steps later, a large structure broke up what had been an endless line of trees.
“Home sweet home.” Reed clapped his gloved hands and found enough energy to break into a jog.
Maverick turned his face away from the storm’s fury and trudged up the steps.
Reed wrenched the door open and rushed inside. “I’ll start a fire. It’s gas, so there’s no smoke.”
“Put Payton on the couch, Maverick. I need to check her for injuries.” I kept my voice quiet, my tone soft and cajoling, the kind of voice I’d use for a scared patient. “Let me look at her.”
He stood in the center of the living area, his body backlit by the fading sunlight and the storm bearing down on us. Snow fell from him in thick globs.
He wavered on his feet, and yet he still clung to Payton.
“Snap out of it, man.” Reed snapped his fingers in front of Maverick’s face. “Mission’s complete, soldier. Time to turn it off.”
Maverick blinked. The stiffness eased, and he blew out a rough breath.
Two steps forward brought him up to a low couch sitting in front of the fire.
He lowered Payton and took a step back.
I’d worked my way out of my thick coat and gloves while I waited on him, and I hurried over to crouch beside Payton. “We should have covered her better.”
Reed had wrapped one of the spare blankets around her when we left the snowmobiles, and Maverick used his coat for additional protection.
“I don’t see any frostbite.” I checked her fingers and toes first, then her face.
Her cheeks were rosy, her lips chapped, but there were no signs of serious injury.
The cut on her lip had stopped bleeding a long time ago, but I jerked the zipper on my bag and pulled out antiseptic and some bandages.
A lump had formed on her forehead, and the spread of a bruise drifted toward her eye.
She’d done a real number on herself.
I pushed up her long sleeves, being careful of the bruises ringing her wrists. My gut burned hotter with every injury I uncovered.
They were all minor, but fury did not follow logic. The fact that she’d been kidnapped and subjected to any kind of injury infuriated me.
Reed came over to stand behind me. “She looks so gentle when she’s asleep.”
“She can’t stay that way forever.” Maverick removed all his outer layers and dropped into the chair closest to Payton’s head.
Reed’s smirk spoke louder than anything. “I can see why they targeted her. Didn’t know what kind of spitfire they had on their hands.” He rubbed his chest where she’d elbowed him.
My lip throbbed where she’d hit me, and I relished the return of feeling that proved I was alive.
We’d made it out of some tight spots before, but there had never been a civilian like Payton at stake.
That upped the ante considerably.
“I’m still concerned about her head. Maybe it’s just fatigue and stress keeping her out, but I’d like to put her through a cognitive assessment when she wakes.”
I used my bandage scissors to snip the roll of bandage into an appropriate length and wrapped it around her wrists after applying a layer of antibiotic cream.
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be all up for that.” Reed snorted out a laugh that rumbled around the room like thunder. “Now that I’ve seen how spicy she is, I’m tempted to keep her.”
“You can’t keep her.” Maverick pushed him back when he crowded in too close.
I kept my thoughts to myself.
Reed’s choice of phrasing fell short of appropriate, but I understood what he meant.
Most women were afraid of us. We’d gotten used to that.
Payton had been scared, but she’d fought back.
She’d earned our respect, and that was a difficult thing to acquire from any one of us.
For all three of us to respect the little hellfire asleep on the couch was unheard of.
I wanted to keep her, too.
I wanted there to be a woman who appreciated what we could do and saw through the intimidating factors of our large bodies and less-than-sterling personalities to the hearts beneath.
All we’d ever wanted was to help people.
Reed wasn’t entirely off base with his desires.
Aside from her impressive bravery, Payton was a beautiful woman.
The picture did not do her justice.
Even worn out from capture, bruised and terrified, she radiated the kind of beauty that would have men falling at her feet.
“Too bad she thought we were the bad guys.” Reed sighed and sat on the end of the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table.
The ranger station looked more like a home than I’d expected.
A thick rug covered the floor beneath my knees, the mosaic pattern reminiscent of the one Reed had picked out for our penthouse.
The entire building was made of rough-hewn logs cut in half and stacked together into a peaked roof that towered overhead.
Exposed beams reminded me of what had happened to Payton, and I dropped my gaze to her face.
A staircase tucked into the corner led to a balcony that overlooked the living area.
Four doors along the wall might be bedrooms.
I’d have to ask Reed.
We all needed sleep, but none of us would dare drift off until we knew Payton was okay.
“Payton?” I brushed her hair off her forehead. “I need you to wake up. You’re safe now.”
“You think she can hear us?” Reed leaned in closer, anchoring his elbows on his knees.
I shook my head. “Probably not, but I’d like her to wake up knowing we’re not going to hurt her.”
She’d knocked herself out before we were able to convince her we meant no harm.
I could only imagine how terrified she’d be when she woke up. If there was any way to mitigate the impending damage, I had to try.
She moaned, her mouth pulling to one side. Her eyes flicked side to side beneath her closed lids.
“That’s it. You can wake up now. It’s all going to be okay.” I stayed close but tried not to hover.
The intensity of Maverick’s gaze never moved away from Payton. He rested his chin on his clasped hands, his elbows on his knees in a pose like Reed’s.
I ignored them in favor of Payton. In most situations, I’d take her hand, giving her a point of contact to wake up to.
The sound came again, a kind of mewling keen that spoke of pain when her face crumpled.
“What’s wrong with her?” Reed stood and moved behind me. “She’s hurting.”
“I’ll find out when she wakes up.” His temperamental moodiness swung hard into concern with such ferocity that it lifted the hairs on the back of my neck.
Payton shifted, then sat bolt upright. Her brilliant blue eyes shot wide, her lips parting in a scream that never emerged.
Before I could do more than take a breath to explain, she lunged to the side and grabbed the bandage scissors from the table.
Her gaze swept the room in a rapid assessment Maverick would be proud of, all the way up until the frantic fear took hold of her expression. “Stay back.” She aimed the scissors at my chest.
Her arms trembled, but her grip on the scissors held firm.
I doubted she’d be able to do any damage with them, but I wasn’t going to increase her fear by trying to disarm her.