The Loner

“You’ve been out for two solid days,” she said, watching him gulp the water. Jordana had warned her he’d be thirstier than a camel when he came out of his fevered state.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he handed her the glass. “More?” And then he added, “Please?”

Shelby poured him another glass. “You had us all worried there for a while,” she said. His hair was spiky and stiff with sweat. He definitely needed a bath. Still, she thrilled to the fact that his eyes were once more clear and he was fully present.

The water satiated him. “I thought the grizzly was going to get even with me.”

Her mouth quirked. “Almost did. Dr. McPherson flooded you with antibiotics through an IV. It was touch-and-go for a while because you had sepsis, blood poisoning.”

“Karma’s a bitch,” he said, his voice stronger. “How did I get here?”

Shelby sat on the edge of the bed, near his feet, facing him. “Dr. McPherson had you brought over here by ambulance a couple hours ago.” She saw his brows raise. “She didn’t want you waking up in a hospital. She said you didn’t like small rooms. I volunteered my place. It’s close enough to the hospital in case you relapse.”

Looking around, Dakota felt comfortable in the queen-size bed in the large room. He lifted his chin and met her gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’ve seen your cabin and frankly, it sucks. I wouldn’t put a sick dog up there to get well.” She wanted to add that vets deserved the best, not the worst, when they were injured.

Her lips twitched, merriment gleaming in her blue eyes.

“You should have seen it before I got there. It was a dump,” he said.

“Oh,” she said as she laughed, “I did. Remember? I’ve been to it many times before you homesteaded it.”

His mind wasn’t functioning fully yet. Frowning, Dakota finally remembered. He moved his hand across his jaw. “I need to shave. And I stink.”

“Wouldn’t disagree.”

Smart mouth. Beautiful lips. Dakota appreciated her dry sense of humor. And he was feeling remarkably calm. Almost always, he had anxiety upon awakening. But it was gone. Completely gone, which confused him. “Give me a little while to get my bearings.”

“Take as long as you need. By the way, I’ve checked on Storm daily. She seems happy to stay outside the cabin. I couldn’t find any dog food for her.”

“She hunts for her food. And she’d rather be outdoors than in.” He was grateful for her care of the wolf. It told Dakota she cared a lot more than most people did. “Tell me what happened. The last thing I remember was trying to call you.”

“You did.”

“I don’t remember your answering. I think I blacked out after punching in the numbers.”

“My phone rang and I picked it up. There was nothing at the other end, but I could hear Storm whining in the background. I hung up and checked the callback number and I put it together.”

“And you drove up there?”

“Yes. When I entered the cabin, you were out cold on the floor. You were burning up, your dressing was oozing pus and smelled foul. Storm was whining and sitting near you. I called the fire station and told them to meet me with an ambulance at the bottom of the mountain. No one would ever know how to get up to your cabin.”

Nodding, he studied her beneath his lashes. “You can’t be strong enough to haul my ass off that floor by yourself.”

Her mouth drew into a wicked grin. “I did.” Wasn’t easy, but Shelby did it because the other choice was leaving him to die on that cold floor.

“You aren’t a Barbie doll after all. I owe you a full apology.”

Thrusting out her hand, she said, “Apology accepted. Call me Shelby, will you?” When his hand swallowed hers up, Shelby felt his animal warmth, his strength, and yet he monitored how much pressure he put around her fingers. This was the second time he’d touched her. Really touched her. There was incredible masculinity and power around Dakota. It called her and she felt almost helpless not to respond to it—to him.

“Shelby...yes, I’m sorry I called you Barbie Doll. I guess—” he reluctantly released her long, beautiful hand “—my prejudice about women with blond hair is showing?”

“Dumb blonde prejudice?”

“Yeah.”

Shelby didn’t want him feeling any worse than he already did. There was a sincere apology in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. Are you hungry, Dakota?” She liked the way his name rolled off her lips. Right now he looked fully relaxed. When would that change? What would cause his anxiety to return? Jason, her older brother, had the same kind of symptoms after three tours in Iraq. And no one had been able to save him. Not even her. Shelby tried to remember her dad’s words of warnings when she’d filled him in on Dakota’s military background. Yet when she met and drowned in Dakota’s gold-and-brown eyes, she felt her heart opening so wide it made her momentarily breathless. Did he realize the effect he had on her? She didn’t think so.

Rubbing his stomach, he said, “Yeah, a little. But look, I don’t want you going out of your way—”

“I’ll let you know when you’re a burden, okay?” Shelby said it half in jest and half with seriousness. Standing up, she asked, “What would you like? I’m a good cook.”

He gazed up at her. She was tall, her shoulders thrown back with natural confidence. Without her uniform on and with that orange T-shirt outlining her upper body to show every curve, he lost his train of thought for a moment. “I...uh... Eggs and bacon sound good.”

“Toast? Jam?”

He nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Coffee?”

He groaned. “God, that sounds good. Really good.”

“Cream? Sugar?”

“No, black.”

“Anything else?”

“You? For dessert?”

Shocked by his response, Shelby was fully aware of the sudden glint in his eyes, that predatory look a man gives to a woman. Heat surged up her neck and into her face. “Let’s stick to the eggs and bacon, shall we?” Shelby turned to leave and said teasingly, “I think that’s about all you can handle right now.”

He had the good grace to give her a sheepish smile. “I think you’re right.” He watched her leave as soundlessly as she’d arrived. What the hell was wrong with him? Dakota sat up, pushing the covers aside. Shelby was beautiful, playful, intelligent and smart-mouthed. It all conspired to make him brazen.

Looking down, he realized he was aroused. Damn. He jerked the covers over the lower half of his body and tried to piece together what had happened to him two days earlier. He couldn’t get Shelby’s body out of his mind. She had nice, wide hips, the kind a man liked to slide his large hands around to hold and guide her. Her breasts were full and he wondered what it would be like to cup them. Shaking his head, he cursed softly. Horny as hell, Dakota didn’t like the fact that his body was acting like some love-starved teen’s.

Shelby deserved better. When she came back about twenty minutes later with a tray of food, the first thing he said was, “I’m a lousy houseguest. I’m sorry for what I said earlier. You didn’t deserve it.”

She set the wooden tray across his lap and noticed the bulge beneath the covers. She tried to keep her face carefully arranged. “Apology accepted. You nearly died a couple of days ago. You’re still coming out of it. After almost dying, everyone feels emotionally up and down. In my experience, people say a lot of things in that state.”

He took the pink napkin and laid it absently across his broad chest. The eggs looked perfect, several slices of thick bacon and whole-wheat toast on the plate. His stomach growled. “You give a person an amazing amount of rope to hang himself on,” he told her wryly, picking up the fork.

Shelby sat down, facing him. “Being a deputy, you find people teach you a lot along the way. I’ve handled a lot of situations where there’s shock and trauma going on.” There was something satisfying and even healing to her as she watched him hungrily eat.

He stuffed the eggs into his mouth. Closing his eyes, Dakota simply absorbed their warmth and taste. How long had it been since someone made him a home-cooked meal? For a moment, he felt overwhelmed. He opened his eyes. Shelby sat with one leg tucked beneath her, relaxed, her expression calm. “I imagine you’re a pretty cool dude in a gunfight.”

“Is that SEAL talk?”