The Loner Read online

  The husky urgency in her voice felt like a warm, sensual blanket. Dakota was feeling no pain now, thank God. Instead, he could focus on this incredibly arresting woman, her face so close he could rise, capture that sinner’s mouth of hers and make it his own. She looked familiar. But from where? A broken laugh rumbled out of his chest. “I have no one, Barbie. Just me and my wolf. And she doesn’t answer my cell phone.”

  “Where do you live? I can take your wolf back to your home,” Shelby asked, trying to remain cool and professional. Again, she saw that devil-may-care grin cut across his tense, chiseled face. He was darkly tanned for this time of year, which told her this ex-SEAL was outside a helluva lot. She didn’t want to admit how much she liked touching this man. And she saw something else in his lion-gold eyes—desire. It was the morphine, she was sure.

  “You’ll never find it. No address. Just a shack in the woods. Just keep my wolf with you.” He struggled to sit up. “This repair on my arm isn’t gonna take long. If you can take care of her until I get released, I’ll appreciate it.”

  Hearing the sudden, emotional urgency in his gruff tone, Shelby straightened. She gently pushed him back down on the gurney. The pleading expression on his face startled her. In that moment, Dakota Carson looked like a scared little boy watching his world self-destruct. There was something magical, a heated connection, burning between them. “Yes, I’ll take care of her for you, Mr. Carson.”

  Instantly, the man seemed to relax, a ragged sigh escaping from his tightened lips. He closed his eyes. What she didn’t expect was his right hand to reach out and grab hers. She felt the strength of his fingers as they wrapped around her wrist.

  “Th-thank you....” he rasped.

  His fingers loosened and fell open. The nurse had put another syringe into the IV, the drug rendering him unconscious in preparation for surgery. Shelby gently picked up his arm hanging over the gurney and placed it at his side.

  “He’s out,” Alanna told her.

  “Good. How long will the surgery be, you think?”

  Shrugging, Alanna motioned for the two orderlies to come in and transport the patient to the E.R. “I don’t know, Shelby. Maybe an hour if all goes well. Could be nerve damage. We’ll see....”

  “Okay, I’ll drop back in an hour. I’ve got some paperwork for the heard nurse to fill out at the nurses’ station before I leave.”

  “Great. Want me to call you on the radio when Mr. Carson comes out of E.R?”

  “Yes, could you?”

  Alanna nodded and smiled. “Can do.”

  Shelby watched the two orderlies wheel the unconscious ex-SEAL off to surgery. Standing there for a moment, she digested all the unsettled emotions the stranger had stirred up in her. He was dangerous, risky to her heart. Frowning, Shelby shook her head. She looked down at the blood smeared across her jacket. His blood.

  This was the first time she’d seen a bear-attack victim, and it wasn’t pretty. Her fingers still tingled when he’d suddenly reached out and gripped her. Strong fingers, but he monitored the strength of his grip around her wrist, she realized, even in a morphine state. Definitely a special kind of soldier.

  She knew little about SEALs. They were black ops. Secret. Defenders of this country. And heroes in her opinion. The look in his eyes guaranteed all of that. The man had shaken her, but not in a bad way, just an unexpected way. He’d somehow gotten to her womanly core. She’d been responding to him man-to-woman. Blowing out a breath of air in frustration, Shelby turned on her booted heel and forced herself to get the paperwork finished. First things first. She’d leave the papers with the nurses’ desk and then go out and make sure the gray wolf was all right.

  As Shelby approached the desk, an older nurse with steel-gray hair beckoned to her. Shelby recognized nurse Patty Fielding.

  “Hey, Shelby, do you know about that guy?” Patty whispered, coming up to her at the desk.

  “No. Why?” Shelby handed her the papers that needed to be filled out.

  “He’s known as The Loner around here. He got here a year ago and was supposed to see Dr. McPherson about his shoulder injury once a week. He never came back for subsequent appointments after the first one.”

  Shelby’s heart went out to Dakota Carson. “He’s a military vet,” she whispered, feeling sorry for him.

  “Oh, honey,” Patty said, taking the papers, “he’s also a SEAL. Those guys rock in my world. They’re on the front lines around the world fighting for us. They’re in harm’s way every time they take a mission.” Patty shook her head. “Such a shame. He’s an incredibly valiant vet. He’s got a lot of problems, physical and mental.”

  “And was he seeing Dr. McPherson for his arm injury?”

  “Technically, yes, for nerve damage. But she’s our PTSD expert here at the hospital, too.”

  Standing there, Shelby asked, “Is that why he lives alone? Out in the middle of nowhere?” She recalled the Vietnam vets who had PTSD. At that time, it wasn’t diagnosed except to call it “battle fatigue.”

  Patty filled out the forms and signed them with a flourish. “Yes, and those guys got no help at all. It broke my heart. Oh, and no address on Mr. Carson.”

  “What about family?”

  Patty sighed and said, “His parents died in a crash when he was eighteen. Froze to death during the blizzard. They found their car two days later and it was too late.”

  Shelby’s heart plummeted. “That’s so sad.”

  “Yeah, this guy has had a very rough life. You don’t know the half of it.” Patty smiled and handed her the papers. “Gotta go!”

  “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Take care of that wolf of his,” she said, lifting her hand in farewell. “She’s a sweet girl.”

  Shelby smiled a little and thanked the nurse for the information. As she headed out the doors of the E.R., the sun just crested the eastern horizon. What was it about this ex-SEAL that grabbed her heart? Grabbed all of her attention? Somehow the name Carson was one she knew. Stymied, Shelby walked carefully over the slick areas of black ice and circumvented the patches of snow. Out in the parking lot, she could see Carson’s beat-up truck. It looked a lot like him, Shelby thought sadly. There was something in his eyes that shouted incredible loss. Loss of what?

  CHAPTER THREE

  SHELBY HAD THE FEMALE gray wolf and she rode quietly in the backseat of her Tahoe cruiser. She just dropped off the papers to the courthouse when she received a call from Alanna.

  Picking up the radio, Shelby continued to drive slowly through Jackson Hole traffic, on her way out to the hospital. The hour was almost up. “Go ahead, Alanna,” she said.

  “Shelby, Dr. McPherson said for you to drop by at 9:00 a.m. Can you do it?”

  “Sure,” she said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. “I thought I was supposed to come back in about twenty minutes.”

  “No, Dr. McPherson said the surgery on Mr. Carson’s arm is going to be longer than she anticipated.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Thanks, out.”

  Placing the radio back in the bracket, Shelby grimaced. If the surgery was taking longer, it meant Dakota Carson’s bear bite was a lot worse than anyone had thought. Her shift ended shortly, but she’d told the commander at the sheriff’s office what had happened. Steve McCall was humored to see a gray wolf in the backseat of her cruiser. Lucky for her, Steve, who had been her father’s replacement as Tetons County sheriff, accepted her sometimes quirky days. But all deputies had unusual days every once in a while.

  As she drove, Shelby couldn’t shake the intense look in Dakota Carson’s eyes. What was his story? She had more questions than answers. Maybe, if she got lucky, she’d intersect with Jordana and find out. As the head of E.R. for the hospital, Jordana McPherson knew just about everything and everyone. Another good source was Gwen Garner, who owned the quilt shop on the plaza.

  A call came in, an accident on a side street, and Shelby figured she had time to take the call before showing up a
t the hospital. Even though she was focused on the accident, her heart was centered on the mystery of Dakota Carson. What the hell was he doing out at dawn killing a grizzly bear? That was against the law. And the Tetons National Park ranger supervisor, Charley, wasn’t going to be happy about it, either. The ex-SEAL was in deep trouble whether he knew it or not.

  * * *

  DAKOTA CARSON WAS IN recovery when he slowly came out from beneath the anesthesia. As he opened his eyes, he saw two women standing side by side. Dr. McPherson smiled a silent hello. But his gaze lingered on the sheriff’s deputy. In his hazy in-between state, Dakota was mesmerized by the strands of bright color in her hair.

  “Dakota? Good news,” Jordana said. “We were able to fix your arm.” Her lips twitched. “And it’s got a nice, new dressing on it without the duct tape.”

  Dakota liked and trusted the woman doctor. One corner of his mouth hitched upward. “Good to hear, Doc. Thanks for patching me up.”

  “Do me a favor? Move your fingers on your left hand for me. One at a time.”

  He moved them. “All five work,” he said, feeling woozy and slightly nauseated. Carson knew it was the anesthesia. The nausea would pass.

  Jordana slid her hand beneath his. She gently turned his heavily bandaged arm over so that his palm faced up. “Do you feel this?” She pricked each of his fingers with a slender instrument, including his thumb.

  “Yeah, it hurts like hell. They’re all responding,” he assured her.

  “Good,” Jordana said, moving his arm so that it rested naturally at his side.

  Dakota looked around. “When can I leave?”

  “You need to spend the night here, Dakota.”

  “No way,” he grunted, trying to sit up. Head spinning, he flopped back down on the pillow. The deputy was frowning, but even then she looked beautiful. She no longer wore her big, puffy brown nylon jacket. It hung over her left arm. Shelby was tall, maybe a few inches shorter than he was. Her shoulders were drawn back with natural pride. The look in her blue eyes, however, was one of somber seriousness. He had a feeling she wanted to question him about the dead grizzly. There would be hell to pay for killing a bear out of season.

  “Way,” Jordana said, placing her hand on his white-gowned shoulder. “You’re still in shock, Dakota. You know what that does to a person? You’re no stranger to it.”

  He scowled. Dr. McPherson was a PTSD expert. When he’d come back to Jackson Hole, the navy had ordered him to see her once a week for his symptoms. Of course, he saw her only once. He looked up at the physician. “Doc, I just want the hell out of here. You know why. Just sign me out, okay? I’ll be fine.”

  Jordana patted his shoulder. “I can’t do it, Dakota. You’re a combat medic. Would you let your wounded SEAL buddy who had your injury and experience walk out of here?”

  Dakota grunted. “SEALs suffer a lot worse out in the field, Doc. We’re used to pain. Suffering is optional. You know that.” He pinned her with a challenging glare.

  Shelby was startled by the acerbic exchange. Carson didn’t seem to like anyone. But he was in pain and coming out from beneath anesthesia. Both could make a person feisty.

  Jordana glanced over at Shelby. “You have a spare bedroom?”

  Shelby blinked. “Why...yes.” What was the doctor up to? She felt suddenly uneasy.

  “You have Dakota’s wolf with you?”

  “She’s out in my cruiser and doing fine.” Shelby frowned and dug into Jordana’s gaze, confused.

  “I’ve got a deal for you, Dakota,” Jordana said, her voice suddenly firm and brooking no argument. “If Deputy Kincaid will consent to drive you to her house, which isn’t far from the hospital, and let you stay overnight, I’ll release you. I know how you hate hospitals and closed-in spaces. Deal?”

  The look of shock on Barbie doll’s face told Dakota she wasn’t prepared to have him as a visitor. “No way, Doc. As soon as I’m able to wear off this damned anesthesia, I’m outta here and you know it whether you sign a release on me or not.”

  Jordana’s beeper went off. She pulled it out of her white coat pocket. Frowning, she said, “I’ve got to go.” Looking over at Shelby, she said, “Talk some sense into him, will you? Because I refuse to sign him out of here unless he goes home with you.”

  Surprised, Shelby found herself alone with a man who exuded danger to her heart. His face was washed out, but now there was a flush in his cheeks, at least. “Mr. Carson, are you staying in this hospital?”

  Dakota studied her beneath his spiky lashes. He felt and heard the authority in her tone. She wore no makeup, but God, she didn’t have to. He liked what he saw way too much. He’d been without a woman for too long. And she had a great body beneath that uniform.

  “How’s my wolf?” he demanded, ignoring her question.

  “Storm is fine. I gave her a bowl of water just before I came in here.” Shelby met his belligerent glare. “Are you in pain?”

  “No more than usual.”

  “I see.”

  “You don’t, but that’s all right.”

  Testy bastard, she thought. “Look, I need some answers on why you killed that grizzly this morning.”

  Okay, she was going to play tough. “Because it charged me,” he growled. “I know it’s illegal to shoot a bear in a national park, Deputy Barbie Doll.” He really didn’t dislike her, but his mood was blacker than hell. The drugs were loosening his normally reined-in irritability.

  “My name is Shelby Kincaid.”

  He smiled a little. It was a tight, one-cornered smile. Did Dakota dare tell her she was a feast for his hungry gaze? The anesthesia was wearing off fast now, and he felt some returning strength. “Okay, Deputy Kincaid. I was out to pick up my trapline in a stand of willows when the bear came out of nowhere and charged me.” He stared up at her. “What was I supposed to do? Let the bastard kill me because it was out of season?”

  Her mouth twitched. “No,” she said. Pulling a small notebook from her pocket, she wrote down his explanation. “Why are you out trapping animals?”

  “Because I choose to. That’s not against the law.”

  “No, it’s not. Where do you live? I need an address.”

  “Third mountain to the north in the Tetons. Where I live, there is no address.”

  “Try me. I was raised here. I think I know just about every dirt road in this county.”

  “Do you know how beautiful you are when you’re pissed?”

  Shelby leaked a grin. This ex-SEAL took no prisoners. Neither did she. “Thanks, but let’s stick to the investigation?”

  Shrugging, Dakota actually found himself enjoying her spirited conversation. In some ways, Shelby reminded him of his late sister, Ellie. Both had a lot of spunk and spirit. A sudden sadness descended upon him and he scowled. “The bear charged me. I shot the bear. End of story.” Her blue eyes narrowed. Still, he savored her husky voice. It reminded him of honey, sweet and dark. He looked at her left hand. No wedding ring. He assumed she was in a relationship. A woman this damned good-looking would have men hanging around her.

  “Tell me where you live.”

  Dakota sighed. “I’ll give you GPS coordinates if you know how to use them. It’s on a no-name dirt road. It doesn’t even have a forest service designation number to it.”

  “Which mountain?”

  “Mount Owen,” he growled. “Now do you know where it’s at?”

  Shelby stood her ground with the ex-SEAL. She reminded herself that he was still coming out of shock and surgery. “I do. When I was a teen, I was up tracking in that area many times with my dad.”

  “Tracking?” Dakota certainly didn’t expect that answer. He was a damned good SEAL tracker. He’d spent years tracking Taliban and al Qaeda in the Hindu Kush Mountains.

  “Why so surprised?” Shelby grinned at him. If Dakota wasn’t so testy and sour, she’d like his company. If he didn’t have that two-day growth of beard, he’d be a cover model for GQ. He was in top, athletic shape and she lik
ed the way his thickly corded neck and shoulders moved.

  “Tracking isn’t exactly what I expected to hear coming out of your mouth.”

  “Surprises abound, Mr. Carson. There’s an old miner’s shack up at eight thousand feet on a narrow dirt road. It was pretty well in ruin the last time I was in that area. There’s an old sluice box next to the creek. That shack sits about fifteen feet from the creek. At one time, gold was found in the Tetons, but the miners exhausted it.” She studied him. “Now, is that the cabin where you live?”

  Amazed, he simply uttered, “Yeah, that’s it.” How the hell did Deputy Barbie Doll figure out his hiding place? Dakota found himself readjusting his attitude. There was more to her than he thought. And it triggered a curiosity in him he rarely felt. Most women he’d been with in the far past were interested in getting married, having kids and settling down. As a SEAL, he was in a two-year cycle, with six months of it being deployed into the badlands of Afghanistan. It didn’t leave much time to cultivate an honest-to-God relationship with a woman, which was why all of his entanglements crashed and burned.

  “So, you were heading for your trapline when the bear charged you?”

  “Yes, it’s that simple.”

  “Do you have a phone?”

  He managed a sour laugh. “Up there? You know there’s no phone or electric lines up to that shack.” Dakota saw her face go dark for a moment. She obviously didn’t like being reminded about the obvious.

  “Cell phone,” Shelby amended in a firm tone. What was it about this guy? He was positively bristling and his hackles rose in a heartbeat. It was like flipping a switch off and on with him. Yet when his mouth relaxed and his eyes lost that glitter of defensiveness, she saw another man beneath that grouchy exterior. She liked that man and found herself wanting to know him better. Much better.

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “I got one.” He gave her the number and added, “Of course, I get, maybe, one or two bars, depending on the storms up there at that elevation.”

  “I know,” she said, writing the info down on her pad.