The Loner Page 4
“How would you know?”
She felt the gauntlet thrown at her feet once more. His eyes were dark with distrust. “Because,” she answered in an unruffled tone, “I was tracking a lost child up in that same area a year ago. I found the lost boy I’d been tracking. When I tried to call in on my cell, I couldn’t get a signal.”
Surprise flowed through Dakota. “You tracked a lost boy?” This blew his mind. Women did not know how to track.
“Yes.” Shelby kind of resented his genuine surprise. He wasn’t the only one with skills. Then the sudden relaxation came to his face. Interest glimmered in those gold-brown eyes of his. She felt a shiver of yearning move through her as the look he gave her was primal, sexual. What was happening here? Stunned by her own reaction toward this snarly ex-SEAL, Shelby said, “Let’s stick to the facts, Mr. Carson.”
Dakota opened his mouth and then closed it. He regarded her with a little more deference. “The only thing women can track is a sale price of clothing at a department store.”
Shelby couldn’t contain her laughter. “What are you? A Neanderthal? I can track as well as any man. Better.”
“Who are you?”
Her entire body reacted to his growling question. Now the wolf was circling the prey—her. “We don’t have time for that, Mr. Carson. I need to get the location of where you shot the bear in order to notify the Tetons Forest supervisor. They’ll want to find the bear, get it out of there and bring it back to their headquarters for autopsy.”
All business. Still, Dakota’s mind reeled over the fact that she was a tracker, of all things. And he knew this area like the back of his hand. It was serious, rugged, backcountry mountainous area. Even a skilled hunter could get lost and disoriented. And she hadn’t. As he gazed up into her sparkling blue eyes, he saw banked humor in them. He gave her the directions to the meadow where he had killed the bear.
“Great, thanks,” Shelby said. She walked away, pressed the button on the radio on her left epaulet.
Watching her, Dakota liked what he saw. She was definitely a throwback to the Victorian age with the proverbial hourglass figure. Her breasts were hidden by the Kevlar vest, but he could tell they were full. Her hips were flared and she had long, long legs. Damn, she was a good-looking woman. He warned himself that she was in a relationship, lay back and closed his eyes. He had to get out of this place. There was no friggin’ way he was staying overnight.
“How are you feeling?” Shelby asked when she came back over to his gurney. “Better?”
Opening his eyes, he said, “Yeah. Better.”
“We have two forest rangers going out to find your bear.”
“Am I going to be charged?”
“I doubt it. I’ll talk to Charley over at Tetons HQ tomorrow. It sounds like self-defense to me.”
His mouth curled into a slight grin. “Oh, it was, Deputy. It was. You should have been there.”
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough grizzly interruptus too many times when I’m tracking. I like to stay away from them. They’re big and they’re fast.”
He held up his bandaged arm. “Tell me about it.”
She liked his black humor. “You were lucky.”
“No luck at all. I had the situation under control.” Well, almost. If not for Storm charging the grizzly and biting the bear’s nose, he wouldn’t have gotten the second shots to kill the charging beast.
“Yeah, right.” Her mouth twitched. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t.”
Shelby frowned. “You have to stay here for the night, Mr. Carson. Or go home with me.”
He sat up, his head clear. The nausea was ebbing. “Bull. I’m leaving....” He threw off the blankets and gave her a look that warned her not to stop him.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHELBY WATCHED DAKOTA Carson get up, unsteadily at first. His calves were knotted, which told her what good a shape he was in. He calmly removed the IV because he knew how to do it and dropped the needle and tube back on the gurney.
“Your clothes are kept in that locker room,” she said, pointing to a door on the left. “Probably got your last name on one of the lockers so you can find them.”
He stopped and studied her. Something about Shelby intrigued him. “You’re smart.”
“I’m field smart, Mr. Carson.”
His mouth twitched. Yeah, she was damned smart for not getting in his way. “If you were a man, you’d rear up on your balls and try to stop me.”
“I have a titanium set, but I choose my battles very carefully.”
His mouth drew into a sour smile. “You ever been in the military?”
“No.”
“Shoulda been.” He turned and walked slowly but surely toward the door.
Shelby wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult. She waited until he was gone and called Jordana McPherson. By the time she arrived, looking upset, Dakota Carson was coming out the door, fully clothed. When he saw Jordana, he glanced over at Shelby.
“I called her,” Shelby said.
“Yeah, I remember. You pick your battles.”
Smiling, Shelby nodded.
“Dakota?” Jordana called.
“No sense in trying to talk me out of leaving this place, Doc. You know I can’t handle closed-in spaces. I’ll just be on my way.”
Jordana shoved her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat, giving him a pleading look. “There’s a high probability of infection after a bite like this, Dakota. I’ve written you a prescription for antibiotics, but I’m worried. Usually, if there is infection, it’s going to hit you in the first twenty-four hours after the operation. That’s why I wanted you to stay overnight for observation. If you could agree to stay at Shelby’s, her house is only a block from this hospital, I wouldn’t worry so much. Please...”
Halting, Dakota studied the deputy. Oh, he’d like to go home with her, all right. For all the wrong damn reasons. “No.”
Jordana reached out, her fingers wrapping around his right arm. “Dakota, you have to! That’s a bad wound. You’re a combat medic and you know the drill. If you could just stay overnight and let me give you an antibiotic IV drip? One night, and drop by and see me tomorrow morning to check it. I’ll feel better.”
“Sorry, Doc, but I gotta go....” He shook off her hand. Glancing at the deputy, he growled, “Now?” Dakota expected the deputy to try to stop him.
Shelby stepped aside. “Timing’s everything.”
Walking slowly by her, Dakota got his bearings and moved toward the elevator. Neither woman made an attempt to stop him.
The elevator doors whooshed closed. Jordana gave Shelby a desperate look. “He shouldn’t leave.”
“I know,” she muttered. “Give me his prescription and I’ll get it filled and make sure he has it before he drives off. I’ll follow him at a safe distance.”
“Can’t you talk some sense into him?” Jordana handed her the prescription.
With a sour laugh, Shelby said, “He calls me Deputy Barbie Doll. Do you really think I have any sway over him?”
“Hardly.” Scratching her head, Jordana groused, “Unbelievable.”
“Is that SEAL behavior?” Shelby asked, walking with her to the elevator.
“No. It’s his PTSD, Shelby. He’s got a very bad case of it. Closed-in places throw him into deep anxiety. He prowls around like a caged lion if he can’t escape.” Jordana added, “I feel so bad for him. He’s a decorated vet, with the silver star and two purple hearts. But he just won’t come in for weekly therapy.”
The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. “I’ll see what I can do,” Shelby said. “But no promises.”
“He’s been out on that mountain for a year, Shelby,” Jordana said in a softer voice. “Alone. And he’s unable to socialize, to fit back into society. It’s as if he’s still in combat mode and he can’t do anything about it.”
“I saw him struggling earlier,” Shelby murmured. The doors opened to the main floor of t
he hospital. Walking out, she turned to the right. “There he is.”
“Get those antibiotics for him and follow him,” Jordana said, touching her shoulder. “He’s a vet. He’s earned our help even if he doesn’t want it.”
Mouth quirking, Shelby shrugged into her coat. “He fights everyone. All the time, whether he should or not.”
“Good luck.”
She’d need it. Shelby watched him walk gingerly down the hall toward the main exit sliding glass doors. He didn’t look over his shoulder, although she watched him operating like a predator on the hunt. Dakota Carson missed nothing, his gaze swiveling one way and then the other. He might have just come out of anesthesia, but the man was alert. Jordana was right: he was operating in combat mode. He might be in the U.S., but his mind and emotions were still in Afghanistan.
Dakota made it to his truck. He fished the keys out of his pocket. Two parking spaces down was the Tetons sheriff’s cruiser. Storm was looking out the window at him, wagging her big, fluffy gray tail. He smiled and felt a sense of safety. When he looked up, he saw the blond deputy crossing the street to where he was. She stopped and handed him an orange prescription bottle.
“The doctor wanted you to take this antibiotic,” she said. Their fingers touched momentarily. An unexpected warmth moved up his arm, which aggravated him. He stuffed the bottle into his pocket.
“I need my wolf,” he told her, getting into the cab. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it.
Nothing. Just a clicking sound.
Cursing to himself, Dakota turned the key again.
“Battery’s dead,” Shelby said matter-of-factly. “Cold weather can suck the life out of one real fast.”
Dakota sat back and glared at her. “Sure you didn’t do something to my truck so I couldn’t get home?”
Shelby shrugged. “No, but if you don’t believe me, lift the hood and check it out yourself.”
He did just that. In cold weather, batteries drained quickly. He saw some rust corrosion around the terminals, but that wouldn’t stop the battery from turning over the engine. Son of a bitch. Dropping the hood, Dakota straightened. The woman stood right where she was the last time he saw her, a concerned look on her oval face. He met her shadowed blue eyes and felt as if he could fall into them. What was it about this woman that gave him that sense of safety? Dakota pushed the feeling away.
“I imagine you’re feeling pretty good about this?”
“Not at all, Mr. Carson. I want to help you, not make your life any more miserable than it already is.” Shelby didn’t like their sparring exchanges, but he was terse and defensive. Given his PTSD, she could forgive him and just try to make life a little easier on him.
Dakota studied her in the tense silence. Her husky voice riffled across his flesh. He felt her genuine care. He’d been without a woman for so damn long, it scared him. But a lot of things scared the hell out of him. The morning sky was clear after the blizzard from the day before. The strong sunlight warmed him. “Can I get you to drive me and my wolf back to my cabin?”
Her heart contracted with pain for him. The anger in his eyes died as he must have realized the hopelessness of his situation. He swallowed his considerable pride and asked her for help. She ached for him. “Yes, I can do that. When I get back, I’ll take your battery over to the service station and get it charged. You need to come back here tomorrow morning to see Dr. McPherson, anyway. We can pick it up then and you’ll have your truck again.”
“You do choose your battles.”
“I don’t see you as a battle, Mr. Carson. I see you as someone who needs a helping hand right now.”
Shaking his head, he slid out of the truck. “Okay. Wheels up. Let’s rock it out.”
Shelby didn’t expect a thank you. She wasn’t familiar with the military slang he used, either. His face was pale, and she knew he was fighting to appear confident. He didn’t fool her at all, but she said nothing, walking over to her cruiser and unlocking the system.
When Dakota climbed in, his wolf whined and wagged her tail in welcome. He grinned and stuck his fingers through the wire wall between the front and backseats. The look in Shelby’s eyes startled him as she climbed in. For a moment, he thought he saw tears in them. Her blue eyes were wide with happiness. An unexpected heat surged through him. He turned around, pulled on the seat belt and closed the door. Shelby didn’t behave like most women he knew. She was different. Very different.
On the way out of the town, Shelby asked, “Do you have enough food and water up there? We can always stop at a grocery store.”
“I’m fine,” he managed. As he leaned his head back against the seat rest, exhaustion finally caught up with him. In moments, he was asleep.
Shelby headed out of town, up the long hill that would put them on the road toward Grand Tetons National Park. She knew exactly where Dakota Carson was holed up. The radio chatter broke the silence, but her mind and heart focused on the injured vet sleeping in her cruiser. Once, she looked at his profile. His nose reminded her that he might have some Native American heritage in his blood. And his skin, although washed out, looked more tan than white. In that moment, he seemed vulnerable. It twisted her heart to think of the terror he must have undergone and survived. She quirked her mouth. She had a few symptoms of PTSD herself, but so did everyone who worked in law enforcement. It just wasn’t as bad as for a military person.
When the cruiser stopped, Dakota snapped awake. Wide awake. Looking to the left, he saw his cabin. “You found it.”
Shelby grinned. “I told you I knew where it was.” She turned and studied him. “How do you feel?”
He lifted his bandaged arm. “Better.”
“Good. You needed the sleep.” He needed some care. And she found herself wanting to do just that for this gruff, injured vet. Why? Something tugged at her heart. And triggered her needs as a woman for him as a man. She had no idea why. Shelby opened the door and climbed out.
Dakota couldn’t figure this woman out. No one knew where this road was. But she did. After getting out, he opened the back door and Storm leaped out.
The first thing Shelby did was go to the shack. Carson had done a lot of work over time to fix it up. Once, it had been a log cabin with white plaster between the thick logs. Over the years, all of the plaster had cracked and fallen out, leaving huge gaps between the logs. Now mud and moss stuck in between them, to ward off the cold. Up here, snow was still about three feet deep in shaded spots. Trees were thick, and only the happy gurgle of a nearby creek broke the muted silence. Turning, she saw Dakota making his way toward his home.
“You’ve fixed it up,” she noted, gesturing toward it. “New roof. It needed one. And you’ve repaired the spaces between the logs.” At least he wasn’t lazy. Shelby noted the entire area was picked up, clean and organized. He cared, she realized. In his own way, the man was trying to make life a little better for himself, even if it was in the middle of nowhere.
“I’ve had a year to make it less windy inside.”
Shelby watched the wolf bound happily up to the door. The animal sat, panting and wagging her tail, as she waited for Carson to walk up. He pushed the grayish wood door open with his foot.
“Not locked?”
“No need. I have a wolf alarm.”
Grinning, Shelby said, “Point taken. You’re good to go?”
Dakota hesitated at the door. “Yeah.”
Shelby stepped forward, pulling a business card from her shirt pocket. “Here’s my business card.” She took a pen and circled her number. “This is my private cell phone. If you need anything, call me. Day or night, it doesn’t matter.” His eyes narrowed as he took the crisp white business card. Her fingers tingled briefly when they met his. “Dr. McPherson is really worried about infection. I want you to have a lifeline, all right?”
The silence fell between them. Dakota regarded her from beneath his straight black brows. “You do this for everyone?” he demanded, his voice suddenly gruff. He tried to
stop the warm feelings flowing through his chest because she cared.
“Anyone,” she assured him quietly. Just the raw, anguished look in his eyes hit her in the chest like a fist. There was such need in Carson, but he was so broken that it brought tears. She turned so he wouldn’t see them. Shelby’s voice was roughened. “Meet you here at 0700 tomorrow?”
He nodded, watching her turn away from him. She seemed so out of place. Her blond hair was like sunlight in the dark, muted shadows of the woods surrounding the area. She was like a ray of sunshine in his own darkness. “Yeah.”
Nodding, Shelby headed back toward the cruiser.
“Hey...thanks...” he called.
Turning on her boot, she flashed him a tender smile. “Anytime. Take care....”
“Are you sure you weren’t in the military?”
Shelby forced tears away and met his confused gaze. “No. My dad, though, was in the Marine Corps. He served in the military police for ten years before getting out.” She gestured toward Jackson Hole. “We ended up here and he became a sheriff’s deputy. Later, he became commander. He just retired two years ago to fish the trout streams.”
Mouth compressed, Dakota said, “That’s good to know.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re behaving like a SEAL. You take care of your teammates.”
Shelby didn’t know what that meant, but it was important to him. “I’m just glad to be of help, Mr. Carson.”
“Call me Dakota.”
“Will do...”
For a moment, all Shelby wanted to do was turn around, walk straight up to him and throw her arms around his shoulders. That was what he needed: a little TLC. Yet the exhaustion in his eyes and face, that gruff exterior, warned her off. She’d been a deputy for years and could read body language and facial expressions pretty well. That ability had saved her life in the past, but Shelby didn’t feel threatened by this ex-SEAL. If anything, her heart reached out for him, wanted to help him even though he pushed all her efforts away.
She watched him disappear into the claptrap cabin. Frowning, Shelby walked back to her cruiser. She was sure that Cade Garner, who was now second in command at the sheriff’s department, and her boss, would be happy to hear she was off duty. She climbed into the cruiser. Cade would understand because of the unusual circumstances. So often, even as law enforcement officers, they dealt in humanitarian ways with the citizens of their county. It wasn’t always about handing out a speeding ticket. She was raised in the giant shadow of her father, who had taught her that she should always look to help others who needed it. Shelby looked up to him and was inspired to go into law enforcement as a result. It was a good choice, one she had never regretted.