High Country Rebel. Lindsay McKenna

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      CHAPTER TWO

      CAT FELT A sense of urgency. As a fire department paramedic, she took one look at an unconscious Talon Holt and knew he was in serious shape. The snow was dumping in buckets and she could barely see ten feet in front of her SUV as she drove slowly through the foot-and-a-half snow on the highway. If it weren’t for the snow poles placed every tenth of a mile, she might literally drive off the road and slide down the rocky slope and into the churning Snake River below. Not what she wanted to do.

      Blindly, she reached out for the fire department radio she had installed in her SUV. She needed to call the Bar H and let them know she was coming in with a sick passenger.

      “Hey, anyone awake at the Bar H? This is Cat. Over.” Her heart was pounding a little harder in her chest. The man, who lay slumped, his head tipped back, touched her for some reason. Cat had taken care of hundreds of sick and dying people over the years. What was it about this man that moved her emotionally? Cat had no answer. His beard was scraggly, his hair longish, dirty and unkempt. And that dog of his, Zeke. The animal’s large, intelligent brown eyes never left his master’s wan face. She swore the dog looked as worried as she felt.

      “Cat? Don’t tell me you’re out in this godforsaken blizzard?”

      A smile twitched at her lips. “Hey, Miss Gus. I figured you’d be up by now.” Gus was eighty-five years old and the matriarch of the Bar H.

      Gus snorted. “I was just cooking breakfast for Val and Griff. I didn’t think you’d come in this morning with this blizzard.”

      “Yeah,” Cat said with a chuckle, “but I really wanted to learn to can fruit and veggies with you and Val today.”

      “What a sucker for punishment you are, my dear,” Gus cackled.

      “Listen, I just picked up a man on this highway a few minutes ago,” Cat told her. “He’s in rough shape. I’m bringing him to you, Miss Gus. He needs to be in the E.R. but there’s no way I can make it ten miles back to town in this blizzard. Can you get Griff to meet me out front? The guy is unconscious and has a bad case of pneumonia.”

      “Who on earth would be out in this weather?” Gus demanded.

      Cat cast a quick glance over at the man. She could smell him. “He told me his name. Talon Holt.”

      “Lordy!” Miss Gus exploded. “Talon Holt? He’s Sandy Holt’s son!”

      “One in the same.” Cat gulped and felt a lump form in her throat. “That’s right. I knew there was something familiar about him.”

      “Sandy said her son, who was a U.S. Navy SEAL, was wounded a year ago. She told me he was coming home, but didn’t say when. Said he was coming with a dog. Is there a dog with him?”

      “Yes,” Cat said, driving carefully, feeling the SUV begin to slide a little. She eased off the gas. There was no way to hurry in this stuff. “I remember Sandy saying he was wounded.”

      “Yes. He got wounded a year ago on a black ops mission and Sandy said he was getting a medical discharge sometime soon. Didn’t say when. Sandy told me the name of the dog but I can’t recall it.”

      “Zeke?”

      “Yes! That’s it! Aside from the pneumonia, how bad off is Talon?”

      “Really bad,” Cat murmured, frowning. “Listen, we should use your bedroom downstairs. Can you get it ready for him? He’s soaking wet, freezing and he’s breathing pretty badly. I’ve got to get him someplace warm and dry. Griff’s going to have to help me. I can’t carry him into your house by myself.”

      “Griff’s out in the barn. I’ll give him a call to come in. Val and I will get my bedroom ready. About how long before you arrive?”

      She grimaced. “I’m barely going ten miles an hour. Probably another twenty minutes if I don’t slide off the mountain.”

      “We’ll be waiting for you, Cat. Be careful getting here. There’s a sheet of black ice on that pavement.”

      “Great, thanks. Out.” Cat felt her emotions unraveling as she gripped the steering wheel, focusing on the slippery road. All around her were evergreens cloaked in heavy white snow. A black, wet, rocky cliff soared a thousand feet above the highway. On her right a skimpy guardrail was supposed to prevent a car from sliding into a hundred-foot rocky abyss below.

      Focus on the road. Get him shelter.

      Cat didn’t want to feel anything about this man, this vet, but she did. Talon Holt was pale and unconscious, but she could see the toughness in his face, the kindness in the shape of his chiseled mouth. And yes, he did look a little like his mother.

      She white-knuckled it as the SUV slid a little toward the guardrail. Cat didn’t easily panic. As a firefighter, she’d seen just about everything in her twenty-seven years.

      She glanced quickly toward Talon, who was frowning, regaining consciousness. Cat could hear his raw, shallow breaths. She turned again to the snow-covered highway. “Talon?” she asked. “Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

      Talon heard her husky voice. Weakly, he raised his hand and forced his eyes open. Every breath he took was a labored effort, as if he had an elephant on his chest. He heard Zeke whine, felt his pink tongue laving his hand.

      “It’s okay, Zeke,” he rasped, opening his eyes. He’d never been so damned weak. Not even when he’d been wounded in the field had he felt like this.

      “Talon?”

      The woman’s voice again. He barely turned his head in the direction of the sound. “Yeah?”

      “How are you doing?” Cat demanded, guiding the SUV around the last curved corner that would lead to the Bar H.

      “I’m not dead, yet,” he rasped.

      A good sign, Cat thought. As sick as he was, Talon was being a smart-ass. “I’m taking you to the Bar H. Miss Gus remembers you. I can’t get you to the hospital where you belong. I’m a paramedic. Miss Gus is going to let you stay in her bedroom and I’ll do what I can to help you. Okay?” Cat gave him a quick glance. His eyes were red rimmed, the gray color glowing with fever, his black pupils large. His face bathed in sweat.

      “Miss Gus?” His mind wobbled.

      “Yes. СКАЧАТЬ