Chapter 10
“Wrap the rope over that limb,” Marc instructed two hours later. They had managed to get close to the edge of the forest where it opened out to a rocky meadow. A large creek snaked through the meadow nearby, disappearing into the woods. Gray clouds billowed as snow fell, blowing in circles as the wind swept around them. As tired as Kendall was, she still offered to help set up camp. At first he declined her offer, but she set her tote down and began to work nonetheless.
Appreciating the effort, he instructed her on what needed to be done. Once more, he found two downed pine trees leaning against another tree, providing the perfect teepee shaped frame. She swept out the pine needles and branches, creating a dry floor for their structure. The tarp was roped to the trees, creating a full-sided tent. With a slight opening at the top, he knew they could have a small fire for a while.
Kendall pulled as hard as she was able but her hands ached with the cold. The wind picked up sending stinging snow onto her cheeks. “Is this good enough?” she called.
Marc came up from behind, his long arms on either side of her, taking hold of the rope as it slipped through her fingers. “You’ve done great,” he complimented. “I’ll take it from here. Go on and get inside and out of the wind. You can help get things set up in there.”
His body surrounding hers felt wonderful as the wind broke on him and did not hit her. In truth, she knew it was more than just the wind break he provided that felt so good. It had been a while since she’d had a man’s arms around her for any reason, and certainly not ones belonging to a man like Marc. Chastising herself for her thoughts, she shook her head in derision, sure his mind was on their situation, not their proximity.
With a fast duck under his arm, she slipped inside the shelter. This structure was a little larger than what they had the night before. She had lost track of time, but Marc said they had a couple of hours of daylight left. Humph—daylight? It was already so dark with the storm she could barely see more than about ten feet in front of her.
Kneeling on the dirt floor, she spread out the blanket on one side, remembering Marc had told her they could have a little fire. Looking up at the hole in the ceiling, she thought back to elementary school when she learned how the Native Americans had fires in their structures, the smoke escaping through the top. With her tote on one side and the duffle bag on the other, she sat cross-legged, waiting for him to join her.
After a few more minutes, Marc opened the flap and crawled inside as well, dumping a pile of rocks onto the center of the floor. With his flashlight, he observed the neat interior and smiled. “You did good,” he complimented. With a small spade from his emergency supplies, he dug a hole in the center of the dirt floor, lining the perimeter with stones. Reaching outside the tent, he brought some branches and twigs inside, stacking them in the center of the stone circle.
“I really want the heat,” she confessed, rubbing her red nose, “but how can we keep it from catching everything on fire?”
“The stones will keep the fire contained and retain the heat, so I won’t need to build it too large. It won’t take much to heat this place.” Smiling at her, he added, “We’ll be toasty in no time.”
She watched, fascinated, as he efficiently made the fire pit and lit the wood. It soon crackled to life, throwing light and heat immediately around the tent. Slipping off her gloves, she eagerly held her frozen fingers toward the flames, the heat sending tingles through her aching hands. Looking at Marc sitting across from her, his day old beard adding to his handsomeness, she rolled her eyes. Is there anything he can’t do?
“What is it?” he asked, seeing her movement.
“I was just thinking that you probably could have done this without any tools or matches, couldn’t you?”
Chuckling, he shook his head in mock humility. “Yeah, I could,” he admitted. “I took a couple of survival courses and,” he shrugged, “I’ve often spent time outdoors without a lot of conveniences.”
“I’m impressed. I’ve never been camping or hiking.”
“Hey,” he said, drawing her gaze back up to his. “Everyone has different things they like to do. I’m sure you have activities you enjoy.” He said it as a statement, but hoped she would share. It was going to be a long night and possibly another day before they were rescued and he figured getting to know her would help pass the time.
“I was always kind of an odd duck,” she confessed, then smiled when she noted his raised eyebrows at her comment. “I never quite seemed to know which group I fit into. I liked to wear pretty clothes and makeup, but I never fit in with the sorority types. I liked to read, but no one I knew liked the same kinds of books. And professionally…well, about the only conversations I have are with other people who are interested in microbiology, specifically staph infections. That’s a real conversation killer out on dates!”
He watched her shoulder shrug as she readjusted her glasses. Her smile was genuine, if a little sad, but surprisingly it was endearing. Touched, he watched the shadows of the firelight dance on her face and noticed how beautiful she was. Certainly not the in-your-face beauty that assumed every man would be panting after her, nor the comfortable-in-the wild kind of beauty that he usually tapped while breaking up the solitary trips he enjoyed. No, Kendall’s beauty was singularly her own, made more apparent by her self-deprecating smile.
“So, tell me about the books you like to read?” he asked, wanting to keep her talking. As soon as he said the words, he fought a grimace at the odds that the professional books she probably read…and wrote…would be to his taste. Her immediate blush caught his interest. Tilting his head to the side, he waited on her answer.
“Well…I…uh…like to read for pleasure…uh…to escape.”
The silence grew while he waited, a grin now spreading across his face. “Are you telling me you read romance? Like Fifty Shades?”
“No! Well, not exactly,” she corrected, her eyes now focused on the fire and not his face.
“So…?” he prompted.
“Okay,” she huffed, “I like to read historical romance…you know, like pirates, or Vikings, or Highlanders in kilts…books like that.” She spared a glance up to his face, her blush still pronounced on her cheeks, but was pleased to see he was not laughing at her. “I know it sounds stupid…but some people have the dumbest idea about romance novels.”
“Hey, I have no preconceived notions,” he protested, throwing his hands up while grinning. “I find it interesting that you like something so different from what you seem.” Leaning back against the duffle bag, he stretched his long legs out, reclining with his hands behind his head. “Okay, so tell me about the pirates.”
Laughing, Kendall shook her head. “They’re just…um…hot guys coming to the rescue of the damsel in distress,” she said. Her brow crinkled as she shrugged. “I know that sounds terribly un-feminist of me but, honestly, most of the books nowadays, the heroines are pretty kick-butt and sometimes save the hero. Though, to be truthful, often the girl does need to be rescued too.”
“Kind of like us?” he joked, throwing a wink her way.
She stilled for a moment before nodding, “Yes, I guess you could say that. I was definitely a damsel in distress and, well, you’ve rescued me.”
“You’re no damsel in distress,” he protested, rolling to the side with his head in his hand, observing her carefully. “You’re a lot stronger than many people would be in this situation.”
Sniffling from the cold, she shifted her gaze around the makeshift tent, listening to the wind howl outside. “This is so surreal, you know?” she said softly. “Almost like it is something from a book that was suddenly thrust upon us.”
Nodding, he agreed. Surreal? Yeah, it is. Realizing he never spent much time talking to the women he shared a tent with, he was surprised how much he enjoyed hearing her talk. And gaining the rare giggle from her was a bonus. Blinking, he forced his thoughts to something less likely to get his cock stirring. Sitting up, he reached into the bag and said, “Let’s eat and then we can make our trips outside for the necessities in plenty of time to get back before it gets too dark and we turn in for the night.”
*
The low building sat on a lonely strip of road, mountains rising in the distance. Bart, Blaise, and Jude stepped inside Cutter’s Bar in Cut Bank, Montana, having flown in an hour before. Their eyes acclimated quickly to the dim interior as the sound of country music played in the background. The bartender looked up, his face impassive at the newcomers.
“Three beers,” Bart called out and, as the bartender nodded, he looked toward the back where a large man was sitting alone in a corner booth. With a head jerk indicating the beers could be delivered to that table, he and the others stalked over.
The lone man lifted his gaze, eyes crinkling as he smiled in recognition. Standing he bypassed Bart’s extended hand, grabbing him in a bear hug instead. Bart was a big man, but as Jude observed, the other man met Bart in stature.
“Holy fuck, Bart,” the man greeted. “How the hell did you get uglier?”
Bart laughed, knowing his womanizing reputation from years ago had earned him the jab. “Ask my wife—she thinks I’m just as handsome as ever.”
“Wife? You? Well, who’dve ever thought you wouldda settled.” The man stood back and peered closely at Bart and nodded. “But I can see it…she must be something special.”
“That she is,” Bart agreed. “Preacher, I’d like you to meet Jude Stetson. Former SEAL and now a co-worker for the Saints. He’s also married to my cousin. And this is another co-worker, Blaise Hansen, former medic and veterinarian.” Turning to the guys, he added, “And this is Logan Bishop. My former Lt. Commander. We know him as Preacher.”
Logan shook hands, then invited them to sit down. “I got your message and have already looked into what we need.” His dark brown eyes pinned Bart as he warned, “But they just got hit with a major blizzard and it’ll be at least another day before we can get a bird to them.”
Bart grimaced, but nodded, sharing a glance with Jude and Blaise whose expressions matched his own. “We understand. We just want to have it planned so we can lift off at the first moment possible.”
“If your co-worker is as good as you say he is, then he’ll make sure the woman is taken care of until we can get in. Have your tech person keep in contact in case they move somewhere else and I’ll be able to get to them. If there’s no place to land, we’ll send the harness down.” Logan saw the tight jaw of his former Lieutenant and said, “You know the first rule of the mission: don’t let it get personal.”
“I know,” Bart growled, “but things are different now on the outside. The men I work for are friends…their women are my friends…and my wife is my world.”
Jude nodded in agreement, catching the flash of surprise rush through Logan’s eyes at Bart’s words. The realization that this man had most likely never been in love hit him. And living in a town of only two thousand people in the northern part of Montana probably made it easier to be a loner. Whatever…as long as he can get us to Marc and the doctor, that’s all that matters.
“I’ve got a place outside of town, where I keep my helicopter. It’s a small house, but it’s got three bedrooms. God knows, I only take up one and don’t have many visitors out here, so you’re welcome to crash with me.”
“Thanks,” Bart replied. “It’ll make it easier to plan.” He looked up as a few men strolled into the bar, greeting the bartender. “Town’s kind of quiet.”
“They’re good people around here. They’d help someone if they needed it. But for the most part, people stay out of my business and I stay out of theirs,” Logan said. “I run my air tours and pretty much keep to myself.”
Jude wanted to ask if Logan found that life boring after commanding a SEALs team, but kept quiet. Too many good men came back from tours with more scars on the inside than the outside. Whatever Logan’s reasons were, they were his own.
Finishing their beers, the four men tossed money on the table and left the bar. Climbing into their SUV, Bart, Blaise, and Jude followed Logan’s pick-up truck as it churned up the road leading out of town.
A few miles later, they turned onto a long gravel road, a metal hangar and low-slung ranch house in the distance. The snow covered mountains rose majestically in the background, the green forest at the base.
“God’s country, for sure,” Jude said, surveying the vista.
“Hell, I was just thinking I’d like to bring Faith out here for a visit. She’s never traveled much and I think she’d love it.”
“We passed a dude ranch on our way to the bar,” Jude said, grinning. “We could bring our wives out here and have a vacation.”
Nodding, Bart was about to comment when they stopped outside Logan’s home. “Not much to look at on the outside, is it?” he asked.
“Hell, it’s got to be better than the hotel I saw in town,” Blaise added.
Climbing out, they grabbed their bags and headed inside. The interior was old, but clean and neat. Logan showed them to their rooms and then the men met back in the kitchen where Logan pulled out some steaks and potatoes.
An hour later, after stuffing themselves with the hearty fare, Bart leaned back patting his stomach. “God, that was a good steak.”
Laughing, Logan nodded. “Montana’s got good meat,” he said proudly. He tossed the plates into the sink, rinsing them quickly before grabbing a six-pack of beer from the refrigerator. Settling in the den, they pulled out maps and began to plan. With Luke on the phone, Bart pinpointed Marc’s location, then listened as Logan worked out their mission.
“Sure as hell glad you’re here,” Bart said, as they finished for the night.
“No problem,” Logan agreed. “It’s good to be doing something besides flying tourists over the mountains.”
Later that night, Logan rose from his bed, satisfied the others were fast asleep. Slipping through the house, he opened the door leading from the kitchen to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, he bypassed the open area to the right and stood at the wall on the left. With a few clicks to the hidden keypad, the wall slid back and he entered. Moving to his bank of computers, he double checked the weather conditions for their mission and rubbed his chin. Behind-the-scenes mission planning had always been his forte. Smiling, he got to work.