Chapter 15 #2
“Yeah.” Teague’s thumb brushed across her cheekbone. “We are.”
It wasn’t the most romantic declaration. But after a murderer, a storm, a near-fatal climb, and more gunfire than she’d ever wanted to experience—it was enough.
She looked at Teague. Really looked at him.
Dirt streaked his face, mixed with sweat and rain. His auburn hair curled at his temples. His shirt was torn on his back—she could see the scrape beneath, raw and red.
“You look terrible.”
“You should see the other guy.” That crooked grin appeared. “Oh, wait. You did.”
“Too soon.”
“Fair enough.”
She traced her finger along the torn fabric of his shirt. “This looks painful.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“You say that a lot.”
“I’ve had it worse a lot.” His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer against his chest.
She could hear his heart beating—strong and sure beneath her cheek. Alive. He was alive. They both were.
“You could have died.” The words came out quiet. “The rope could have pulled you off. You could have—”
“But I didn’t.” His voice was steady. “The rock held. I held. We made it.”
“Being reckless again.”
“Absolutely.” His thumb brushed across her lip where a smile threatened. “And I’m not sorry.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“I said it before. I will never apologize for being reckless when it comes to keeping you safe.”
“That’s either very romantic or very foolish.”
“Can’t it be both?”
“Apparently.” She couldn’t hold back the smile anymore. Then the reality of the situation hit her again. “I still can’t believe I trusted Kyle. All this time—”
“Forget Kyle.” His voice was fierce now.
Protective. “Kyle’s choices are not on you.
I said it down there. And I will say it over and over until you believe it.
I love you, Eden. That’s not conditional on you being perfect or never making mistakes.
That’s just—” He took a breath. “That’s the truth. ”
The words hung in the air between them.
“You really love me?”
“I do.”
“Even though I invited a murderer on the expedition and spent three days calling you reckless?”
“To be fair, you were right about the reckless part.”
“I was.” A small laugh escaped her. “I really was.”
“And I’ve messed up, and I can’t promise I’ll never mess up again.” His green eyes held hers. Vulnerable in a way she’d never seen. “But I hope someday, maybe…”
“I love you too.”
The confession was like stepping off a cliff. Like trusting the rope one more time. Like pushing off from solid ground into nothing but air.
“But I’m terrified. Of losing you.” She swallowed. “Of watching you do something heroic and stupid and not come back.”
“I can’t promise I’ll be perfect.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “But I will be there for you. And I’ll never leave you behind again. And if I have to for some reason, I’ll always come back.” His voice dropped. Quiet. Certain. “You can count on that.”
He kissed her then.
His lips found hers with a gentleness that belied everything they’d just been through. This kiss was different from the others. It wasn’t just about now. It was a promise of a future together. Of a life together. Of never leaving her behind.
His hand cupped the back of her head as he deepened the kiss.
Eden’s good hand fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer despite her injured wrist pressed between them.
She could taste rain on his lips. Could feel the scrape of his stubble against her skin.
Could sense the restraint vibrating his hands.
When they finally pulled apart—both breathing hard—she rested her head against his shoulder.
“Well.” Her voice came out shaky. “That was—”
“Worth almost dying for?”
“I was going to say ‘nice,’ but sure. Let’s go with the dramatic option.”
“Nice?” He pulled back, mock-offended. “I just poured my heart out, and you’re giving me ‘nice’?”
“Very nice?”
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.” She smiled against his shoulder. “Usually by you.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
The storm had passed, sun fully visible, painting the world in shades of fire and gold. The rocks glowed with deep reds and tan hues, twice as vibrant after the rain. Water still dripped from the edges of boulders, small rivulets turned to liquid gold.
The air smelled clean. Sharp with sage and wet earth and the peculiar sweetness that came after a storm.
The moment might have been perfect—if it wasn’t for the madman hunting them below.
Before she could respond, the thump of rotor blades cut through the air.
Distant at first. Then growing louder. Echoing off the canyon walls until the sky itself seemed to vibrate.
“Sounds like the Black Hawk Xander mentioned.” Teague was already on his feet, scanning the horizon.
The helicopter crested the canyon rim—massive and angular against the gray storm clouds now moving east. Its spotlight swept across the plateau, harsh white light cutting through the growing shadows.
Teague started waving his arms above his head.
The spotlight found them. Pinned them in brilliant white light.
Just before a gunshot cracked off the canyon walls.
Kyle.
“Get down!” Teague grabbed Eden and pulled her behind the boulder as more shots rang out.
The aircraft banked hard, rotors screaming as the pilot took evasive action. The spotlight swung wildly across the wet stone.
“Of course he’s still shooting at us.” Eden pressed herself against the boulder. “Why wouldn’t he still be shooting at us?”
“The man’s committed. I’ll give him that.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Wasn’t trying to be funny.” His hand found hers. Warm. Solid. “They saw us. It’s going to be okay. They’re just repositioning.”
More gunfire from below. The helicopter maintained its distance, circling, its spotlight sweeping the lower plateau. Searching for Kyle’s position among the evening shadows.
Wind from the rotors blew dust and debris—stinging Eden’s eyes, whipping her braid against her face. Teague pulled her into his chest, shielding her from the worst of it.
She buried her face against him. Breathed in the scent of rain and stone and him.
I will never apologize for being reckless when it comes to keeping you safe.
The words settled into her bones like truth.
The wall she’d built after Landon died. The conviction that loving someone meant losing them.
She had no doubt in this moment that Teague loved her.
And he wouldn’t leave her.
Peace surrounded her. Not because the danger was gone.
Not because she could see how it would all work out.
But because the Rock had held. Because Teague had caught her.
Because God had been there every impossible step of the way—in the solid stone beneath her hands, in the rope that held when everything else failed, in the man who refused to let her fall.
A single shot burst from the helicopter—sharper, louder than Kyle’s weapon.
Then silence.
Heavy. Expectant.
Then the Black Hawk started to descend.
“It’s over.” Eden’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Are you sure?”
A smile tugged at her mouth. “I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“That’s new for you.”
“I’m trying something different.”
“Me too. I think I’m going to try being less reckless. I’ve heard somewhere it’s a problem of mine.”
“You did? Who would have said something like that?”
“I don’t know, but I am beginning to think she had a point. Plus, I have a really good reason to stay safe now.”
“Is that so?”
He pressed his lips to hers, firm, determined. “Most definitely so.”
The helicopter landed on the plateau about thirty yards away. The downdraft kicked up dust, flattened the sage, made the wet stone shimmer in the spotlight.
The side door was open and the sniper still in the doorway when the skids fully touched down.
Noah and Meg hopped out and ran low beneath the rotors, heading straight for them. Meg’s dark-brown hair blew in the wind.
“We’re good!” Teague yelled over the rotor noise. “Marcus needs help. He’s down that ridge under a small overhang.”
Noah relayed the information into his radio.
A moment later, the sound of another helicopter filled the air—SAR this time. Familiar to anyone who’d worked search and rescue in the canyon.
Teague grabbed Eden’s hand and led her toward the Black Hawk, keeping his body between her and the edge where Kyle had been. Meg met them halfway, already pulling out her medical kit.
“Let me see that wrist.”
“It’s fine.”
“That’s what they all say.” Meg took her arm gently. “Right before I tell them it’s broken.”
“Is it broken?”
“Probably just a bad sprain. But I’ll know more once we’re somewhere with actual equipment.” Meg glanced at Teague. “Is she always this stubborn?”
“You have no idea.” But she didn’t miss the laughter in his eyes.
And right then, Eden knew everything was going to be okay.
Not because she could control it. Not because she could prevent bad things from happening. Not because she’d finally figured out how to be careful enough, smart enough, strong enough to keep everyone safe.
But because she wasn’t alone.
Because the Rock held.
Because love meant trusting even when the path forward wasn’t clear.
They’d made it.
Together.
Noah drew a steadying breath. They’d made it. Teague and Eden were safe, and Marcus was being loaded onto the SAR helicopter fifty feet down.
The Black Hawk’s rotors beat a steady rhythm against the evening sky, the downdraft kicking up dust and sage across the plateau.
The storm was in the far distance, and the military chopper hovered over the canyon where Kyle had been as two members of the tactical team slid down ropes to secure the scene.
Eden sat on a flat rock, cradling her injured wrist while Meg examined the swelling. Teague stood a few feet away favoring his right side, his hair matted with sweat and dust. But his green eyes were bright. Triumphant.
Even now—exhausted, dust streaked, running on nothing but adrenaline—Meg was all doctor. All competence and calm as she tested Eden’s range of motion.
That’s my girl.
Noah pulled Teague aside, far enough that the rotor noise would cover their conversation.
“And the gold?”