Chapter Thirteen

“Did you find it?” Chance asked as he stepped out of his bedroom, his gear bags in hand. He kept a couple packed for moments when he needed to make a quick exit. All SEALs did.

Pagan rocked on the back legs of his kitchen chair, another cup of coffee in his hand. “Yes, but there’s not much in York’s file we don’t know. I’ve tagged Halen Diego, boss of the Dia de Muertos, to see what they have on York since most of his illegal business has been south of the border.”

“There’s got to be a reason Sullivan wants York put down, no questions asked.”

“Agreed, but whatever it is, there’s nothing in the dossier, and I didn’t find any bugs in this cabin, either. I did find a link between Sullivan and Tennyson when I was snooping around Sullivan’s email, though. They went to Yale together. Same frat house and all that bullshit.”

Interesting. That piece of intel went in Chance’s rear pocket for later scrutiny. He had somewhere else to be. “Make sure Suede stays hydrated and gets her meds. All I’ve been giving her are the antibiotic and anti-inflammatory on her nightstand. You got anything stronger?”

“Just what I usually carry.”

Chance shook his head. “Not whiskey. Her lungs are already compromised.”

“Then I’ll just keep her warm and fed. Half of recovery is rest anyway.”

“True.” Chance nodded at his closed door. “I’ll introduce you before I go. Gallo’s already in there.”

The chair scraped as Pagan shoved to his feet. His big hand threaded through his thick dark hair like he thought he needed to look good, and that irked Chance. He rolled his shoulder and let it go. Now was not the time to get possessive over a sick woman who wasn’t planning on staying once the weather cleared anyway.

Chance knocked softly as he re-opened the door. Sleepy and snug, with Gallo lying alongside, Suede offered a weak wave. “Hey, Chance.”

He nodded at her, shocked at how much he liked his name on her lips. “Suede Tennyson, meet my brother, Pagan Sinclair. He’s here to wait on you hand and foot until I get back, so keep him busy.” Chance turned to Pagan. “A bowl of soup for lunch would be a nice start.”

Pagan nodded, but the big ox seemed tongue-tied. His head kept bobbing, and there went that hand again, brushing over his head as if he could begin to tame his outrageous hat-hair.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Suede said. “Pagan, huh? That’s an interesting name.”

“Yeah, well…” Did Pagan just blush?

Chance knuckled his brother’s meaty bicep. “Say something.”

Pagan cleared his throat. “Howdy,” came out of nowhere.

Wasn’t that something, a big guy like him flummoxed over meeting a tiny thing like Suede Tennyson? Chance would’ve enjoyed the moment more if he hadn’t been leaving said lady with his horny brother for the next twenty-four hours. “Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t go,” whooshed out of Suede as Chance turned to the door.

“I’ll…” Pagan pointed beyond the bedroom door just before he exited, stage left, “be out there.”

Chance shot him a look for bailing, the coward. “I have work to do,” he told Suede in no uncertain terms.

“But I have a bad feeling, and I… I don’t want you to go. It’s too dangerous.”

Chance went to her bedside, sat down and gave her the talk he imagined thousands of SEALs gave their wives right before they deployed to places unknown. “I have work to do for our country, Suede. That’s the way I was made and the path I chose. I told you I’ll be back, and I will. You have to rest while I’m gone. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded. “Be very careful up there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his tone firm, “and you do what you’re told. By the time I get back, maybe you’ll feel good enough to join my brother and me in the living room. There’s a larger fireplace out there. It will do you good to be up on your feet.”

“I do feel better now that I’m warm.”

He placed a palm to her forehead. “Not today. It’s too soon. Pagan will make sure you get your meds on time so just stay put.”

Her lips pinched to a thin line, and Chance knew he’d better leave before he kicked Gallo to the floor and crawled into bed beside Suede. “You’re stronger than you know,” he told her.

A twinkle flittered from beneath her lowered brows. “I am.”

Chance pushed to his feet, meaning to walk away and let whatever was meant to happen, happen. Until he returned, she’d have to rely on Pagan. Chance would never intentionally jerk his brothers around, but things happened. The heart loved who it loved, and all that crap. If Pagan fell for her charms while Chance was gone, well, good on him.

Liar.

At the door, Chance glanced over his shoulder. Suede had straightened in the bed, and yes, by hell, she was watching him. There wasn’t a man alive who could miss the hope shining in her eyes. Of course, Pagan would fall for her. They’d make a handsome match, one of those fairytale endings. He still had his looks. What was not to love about the big teddy bear?

Big, fat liar.

Suede lifted one hand and blew Chance a tiny kiss from those poor ragged fingertips. In return, he winked. That was all. It was just a wink. A guy thing. Winks didn’t mean anything.

Bull. Shit.

He closed the door on the woman he now knew for certain he’d lay down his life for. Damn. Leaving her was nearly impossible.

“You didn’t tell me she was gorgeous,” Pagan accused from his kitchen chair, all ten of his fingers drumming the closed lid of the laptop like a piano keyboard.

“She’s not,” Chance shot back at him in a whispered growl. She’s stunning. Sexy. Out of this world.

“And she needs lunch? Shit man, what’ll I fix for a woman like her? A can of Campbell’s soup won’t cut it. She’s used to caviar and fancy stuff.”

“She’ll eat whatever you put in front of her, but yeah. Some kind of soup would be best.” That was what Scarlett had always fixed her boys when they were sick, right before she told them, no, you’re not staying home from school because of a little sneeze and a sniffle. Good try, but drag your butt to class.

A smile teased Chance’s lip remembering his spitfire mother. She would’ve liked Suede, and why the hell that notion popped into his hard head, he hadn’t had a clue. All these thoughts about obedient wives and bossy mothers had to stop. Suede was leaving, not staying. THAT was the way it was.

At his front door, he paused long enough to gear up. He stripped down to his boxers and donned a pair of synthetic thermal underwear from his supply closet. A light woolen sweater and pants combo came next, then another all-in-one thermal suit, a heavy breathable jacket and pants. The key to surviving winter ops began at the fundamental level of knowing how to keep warm and dry even when a guy sweated up a storm.

Settling down to the bench next to the closet, he donned two pairs of woolen socks and knee high gaiters to keep the snow out of his boots. He rolled the gaiters up his shins, then stuffed his feet into a pair of ruggedized hiking boots with built-in cleats meant for glacier climbing. Chance topped his outfit off with a gray bandana tied at his neck, an insulated winter camouflaged jacket, and a gray woolen beanie for his head. UV-protective snow goggles went inside his chest pocket.

Winter camouflaged pants, white snow boots, climbing gear, his usual dozen or so weapons and supporting ammo. It either went on him or into his bag. Lastly, he grabbed a couple coiled ropes for the trek ahead. His gear bag already contained enough energy bars and several liters of water to see him through the next twenty-four, as well as a decent supply of foot warmers and a thermal pad if forced to sit a while.

Before he zipped up, he ran a wire from the fully charged transmitter in his pack to the receiver in his ear and stuffed a gray balaclava in his hip pocket. The nylon back rifle holster went next, then his AR, fully loaded and ready to mince meat.

“Can you hear me now?” Pagan asked, tapping the mic he always wore on his collar just to irritate Chance.

That earned a glare. “You know damned well I can hear you. You’re standing two feet away. Comm check me once I’m outside, why don’tcha?”

“Here, you’ll need this” —Pagan slapped a tube of lip protection in Chance’s open palm— “to keep those manly lips ready for action when you get back.”

“Shut the hell up.” Chance slapped the tube away, pissed Pagan reminded him that he was going and she was staying. “Keep this frequency open. If you find anything more on York, pass it along. Or Tennyson and Sullivan, too. Got it?”

Pagan grinned. “Trust me. I’ll take care of everything while you’re gone.”

Not what Chance wanted to hear, especially if too much of that care extended to Suede. “And don’t forget to feed Gallo. Can you do me a favor? I still owe him for finding Suede like he did. Give him a chunk of that roast in the fridge after I leave. He’ll like that, but chain him on the porch, so he doesn’t come after me. He’d like that, too.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Pagan growled. “Now take off. I’ve got work to do.”

Chance thumped his brother’s wide bicep, stabbed his hands into his climbing gloves and opened the door. “Until tomorrow,” he signed off.

Pagan turned serious then. “Any trouble, any at all, you 9-11 me.”

“Roger that,” Chance agreed. “Keep your ears on.”

Pagan tapped the side of his head where his twenty-four-seven earpiece rested deep inside his ear canal. “You got it. And Chance…” He turned earnest then. “I will take good care of Suede. You know that, don’t you?”

Chance nodded. “Later, brother.”