43. Wren
WREN
Three days after the firefight, life at the cabin finally settles into somewhat of a pattern, though most of the pattern consists of me reminding Boone and Cade not to overexert themselves.
Cade insists his shrapnel wounds barely qualify as injuries, even though I have orders from the doctor to change his dressings daily. Boone seems to have made a game out of pushing the limits the doctor set out for him.
“Carrying a log with my good arm doesn’t count as lifting,” he tells me as I wash dishes and he stands by with a towel.
“It absolutely counts.”
“It only weighs—”
I hand him a mug. “I don’t care if the log is made out of marshmallow.”
Boone turns toward Cade, as though appealing to a judge. “She’s becoming unreasonable.”
Cade doesn’t even glance up from the knife he’s sharpening at the table. “You got shot.”
“Grazed,” Boone says.
“By a bullet.”
“It barely—”
Now Cade’s the one to cut off his argument. “You got shot.”
Boone sighs dramatically. “I liked you better before you started agreeing with her.”
I’m laughing as Rhett walks in carrying a basket of laundry.
“Finally,” he says, looking at me.
“What?”
“You’re laughing,” he says. “It’s been days.”
I hadn’t realized, but he’s probably right. Days have been filled with discharge instructions, prescriptions, federal interviews, statements, and endless cups of coffee. Though I’ve been relieved, the worry hasn’t fully burned away yet.
But the men I love are home. They may be bruised and bandaged, but they’re alive, and we’re all together, and when I get done laughing, I keep smiling for quite a while.
Novak calls the four of us into what remains of his temporary command post at the county administration building, where we join him in a conference room.
“I won’t keep you long,” he says as he closes the door before taking a seat across the table. He looks exhausted but satisfied. “I wanted to thank you in person.”
The brothers exchange quick glances.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Rhett says.
“Yeah, I did,” Novak says as he folds his hands on the table. “I can’t walk you through the investigation because a lot of what we’ve recovered is evidence now, but I can tell you what affects you.”
He looks at me first. “The habitat surveys you conducted gave us the first real pictures of where Turner was operating. Without that, we’d still be looking in the wrong drainages.”
“I was just doing my job.”
“So was I,” Novak says, “and in this case, mine depended on yours.”
Then he looks at the men. “Your surveillance confirmed movement patterns we couldn’t have established from the air. When Turner made his move on the cabin …” He pauses. “Your decision to hold your ground bought my team the time we needed.”
Boone shifts awkwardly. “We weren’t exactly thinking strategically.”
Novak’s mouth hints at a smile. “I know.”
“What happens to Turner?” Cade asks.
“He’s still in custody, and he isn’t getting out. Between the narcotics charges, environmental crimes, firearms violations, and attempted murder, prosecutors are confident he’s looking at the possibility of spending the rest of his productive life in federal prison.”
Boone lets out a low breath. “And the rest of them?”
“The logistics people who survived are in custody. The remaining fugitives were apprehended yesterday.” He leans back slightly. “Trials take time, but I can tell you that the organization running through these mountains doesn’t exist anymore.”
He holds my gaze. “We don’t expect the Moon Ridge corridor to be used for trafficking again.”
It’s a good feeling, but a strange one. After weeks of watching every treeline and listening for every strange sound after dark, we can relax now.
Novak gets to his feet. “I know you’ve all got healing to do.” He offers us each a handshake before we leave.
Five days later, Boone tries to split firewood.
I see him through the kitchen window, with the axe already raised, and I run outside. “Oh no.”
He freezes. “Maybe?”
“No.”
“It was worth asking.”
I march across the yard. “You didn’t ask. Unless you’re counting last week, when you brought it up, and I told you no. You still have at least another week before the doctor clears your shoulder.”
“It feels fine.”
“It’s hanging on by stitches and stubbornness.”
“Mostly stubbornness.”
I take the axe away. “You’re impossible.”
He gives me his most charming grin. “But you still love me.”
“I do.”
Boone takes the axe back and sets it against the woodpile. “Enough to kiss me?”
I glance toward the garage, where Cade is pretending not to watch. “You’re manipulating your nurse,” I say.
“I’m flirting with my nurse, and you should be used to that by now.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I believe we established that.”
I cup his face and kiss him anyway, feeling his smile deepen as I do.
When I step back, Cade clears his throat. “My turn?”
“You aren’t injured enough to qualify for sympathy kisses,” I call over, teasing.
“I have eleven stitches.”
“Then why are you over there working on the truck?”
After giving Boone one more warning about the axe, I go to Cade and kiss him, too, and he kisses me back with the energy of a man who’s in good health.
When I turn back toward the house, Rhett is on the porch. “I feel discriminated against.”
I bite my bottom lip, still tasting Cade there. “You weren’t shot.”
“I was emotionally affected,” Rhett says, leaning over the railing, looking more light-hearted than I’ve seen him in … possibly ever.
“He was traumatized by watching me look heroic,” Boone says.
I’m laughing as I head toward Rhett. The laughter comes more easily every day.
The next time I talk to my supervisor, I’m expecting more paperwork. Instead, he asks me to come to the district office for a meeting.
The next day, I meet with him and the regional director, who slides a folder across her desk, saying, “We’ve been discussing the future of the Moon Ridge restoration project.”
As my eyes skim over a document about environmental assessments, long-term recovery plans, and funding authorizations, she says, “As you know, the ecological damage caused by the trafficking operation is extensive. We need to assign someone to oversee restoration.”
My pulse quickens, and she smiles.
“You’ve already built relationships with local landowners.”
I manage to keep my face straight as I think about what an understatement that is regarding one particular set of local landowners.
“You’re very familiar with the landscape and the habitat corridors, and after everything that happened, frankly, no one knows the area better.”
“Are you offering me the position?”
“I’m offering you a permanent field assignment based in Moon Ridge, if you’re willing to relocate.”
I don’t even need to think. “Yes.”
Beside me, my supervisor laughs. “I suspected that might be your answer.”
Later, when I tell the brothers the great news, Cade is the first to give me a hug.
“So you’re stuck with us,” he says.
“I think it’s the other way around.”
Rhett smiles and gives me a kiss. “I’d been hoping federal bureaucracy would finally do something useful.”
Boone pulls me close and wraps his arms around me. “You’ll officially live here.”
“Yes, you’re never getting your room back.”
His head tips back as he laughs, and he pulls me closer. “Fair trade,” he says.