High Country Rebel. Lindsay McKenna

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      CHAPTER FIVE

      TALON SQUEEZED HIS eyes shut, desperately trying to stop the tears after he finished the emotional phone call to his mother. He gripped the cell phone so hard he thought he might destroy it. Finally, he dropped it on the bed beside him.

      Zeke came over, whining. Blindly, Talon reached out, rubbing the dog’s dark ears, something he enjoyed. It felt as if there were a bunch of writhing, angry snakes in his tight gut. Unconsciously, Talon rubbed the area, still fighting back the tears that wanted to fall.

      His mother sounded like she was dying. As if she’d given up. Talon understood it better than most. He’d given up this morning out on that highway.

      Lifting his head, Talon blinked back the tears, angrily stuffed them into his kill box and glared around the bedroom. A sense of suffocating helplessness overcame him. His shoulders sagged and he leaned over, pressing his brow against Zeke’s broad head. The dog whined and pressed his seventy-five-pound body in between his legs, always a sign of affection and care toward his master.

      Chest tight, his throat aching, Talon ran his long hands across Zeke’s soft, dry fur. “What the hell am I going to do, Zeke?” His voice cracked. “What?” It felt comforting to have his dog pressed against his leg. How many times in Afghanistan had Zeke done this? Known when he was upset, needing a doggy hug? So damn many times. This dog had saved his life so many times that Talon had lost count.

      Lifting his head, Talon shoved the tears away. He glanced at the clock on the dresser. Four-thirty. Dinner would be at six. Miss Gus had asked him to come to the kitchen but, dammit, he didn’t want to. The thought of talking to anyone right now, with the exception of Cat, rubbed him raw.

      Talon needed her. He yearned for Cat’s quiet sense of stability, her husky, honeyed voice soothing his rough, jagged and exposed edges. Every time Cat touched him, he felt a moment’s peace. She gave him a corner of quiet in a violent, stress-filled world of combat that lived and raged inside him nonstop. Six months in a hospital had done nothing but agitate him. The only thing that had healed was his physical body. God, he needed Cat. She was like a battle dressing around his bleeding heart. Talon felt as if he were hemorrhaging emotionally.

      His mother was dying.

      Just then a soft knock came at the door. Talon scrambled to control his feelings. The only person he wanted to see was Cat. Anyone else, and he’d send them away, telling them he was too sick to get out of bed. It was the truth.

      “Who is it?” he called, his voice harsh.

      The door opened. Cat peered in. “It’s just me. Do you need anything?”

      As he stared at her, his heart started to pound. “Come in,” he said. Relief flowed deep and strong through him as she quietly entered and closed the door behind her.

      “You talk to your mom?” Cat asked hesitantly, standing uncertainly by the end of his bed. Talon looked pale. His eyes were dark and anguished. No doubt, he was upset. Zeke sat between his opened legs, Talon’s long fingers stroking the dog’s head and ears. The way his mouth was pursed, Cat knew what Talon knew: Sandy Holt was slowly dying. Her heart wrenched with grief for Talon. All she wanted to do was slide her arms around his shoulders. Talon really needed it. But Cat was unsure he’d accept her embrace.

      “Yeah, I just got done talking to her.” The words came out hard-edged, laden with emotion. Talon looked over and patted the bed next to him. “Come and sit down.” He searched her blue eyes, silently pleading for her nearness.

      “Sure,” she whispered, walking over. Cat sat down, leaving a foot between them. She remembered him warning her not to touch him. But what would Talon do if she suddenly embraced him? He needed touch, kind words. “How are you doing?” she ventured, looking and holding his tormented gaze.

      “Not good,” Talon said roughly. “My mom’s dying.”

      Cat rubbed her hands slowly between her thighs. “She’s fought so long, so hard, Talon. Sandy’s tired....”

      Savagely rubbing his face, he wanted to cry. Cat’s subdued voice was a healing balm to his ravaged heart. Talon had no way to stop the grief awakened in him once again. He had thought that in the year since Hayden had died, the grief would recede. Now it was there again at the same intensity, glaring at him, raking his heart over cut glass once more. Talon wasn’t sure he could take another personal death. Hayden had been a brother to him, and his mother, whom he loved deeply, was now slipping away.

      Cat took a huge risk and reached out, slid her hand across his shoulder. She felt his skin tighten beneath her fingertips, felt his muscles leap. “I’m so sorry, Talon. So sorry...”

      Her touch broke something wide-open. He made a sound, maybe a sob, maybe a cry for help that had never been released. Raggedly whispering her name, Talon swept Cat into his arms. He buried his head against her shoulder and jaw, his breath uneven, his heart raw. Talon held her so tight he thought he might be squeezing the life out of her. He could smell the sweet scent of Cat’s skin beneath her shirt. She smelled of fragrant almond. The silken strands of hair trapped between his cheek and her shoulder reminded him of an apple pie cooking in the oven, the hint of cinnamon encircling his flared nostrils.

      A soft gasp tore from Cat as Talon turned and inexplicably hauled her into his arms, crushing her against him. It was so unexpected, but so right and so wonderful. Without thinking, Cat curved her arms around his tense shoulders, tightening them, holding him near. She closed her eyes, feeling his ragged, moist breath against her shoulder, his need for human contact. Talon trembled in her arms, and Cat could feel him fighting back tears, struggling to stop so many awful emotions from erupting.

      “It’s going to be okay, Talon,” she whispered. “Just breathe. Take this one minute at a time. I’ll help you get through it.” Cat was shocked at the words tearing unthinkingly out of her mouth. She couldn’t stop them. Cat soothed him with her hand, her fingers skimming across his back, smoothing the flannel shirt here and there. Gradually, she felt him begin to relax in her arms. Begin to give over his steel control to her. She’d seen this reaction before in traumatic car crashes, the shock starting to wear off the survivors, their need for comfort.

      “It’s СКАЧАТЬ