Legacy Lost

by Jillian David

  He revved the machine and kicked it into gear a little too hard, making her tighten her grip to stay on the sled. Suited him fine, having her lean on him for a change, clinging to him for her safety. Then he throttled the machine back, controlling the descent down the slope.

  Not because he wanted her to trust him to take care of her. Oh, no. He simply needed to concentrate on steering the snowmobile over the terrain.

  They traveled down the mountain, past ski lifts and condos until pulling up in front of the fully lit operations facility and firehouse. With a groan, Shelby scrambled off the snowmobile.

  When she stumbled again, Eric reached for her, but a tired glare made him drop his hands.

  Back to business. Or was it?

  With a weary sigh, she slouched and hooked a hand around his forearm to let him guide her up the stairs and into the bright building. He puffed out his chest like a real man.

  Damn it.

  • • •

  The muscles of Eric’s arm bunched as he helped Shelby into the operations facility. The tension in his tall frame matched the pings of acrid irritation and other obscured emotions she couldn’t quite read. He did a great job hiding his feelings deep down inside. Sad if that was some kind of protective instinct he’d learned over the years.

  But good for her, if she didn’t have to filter the onslaught of emotions. Now, would it be too much to ask for him to stuff the pissed off vibes as well? They speared her head like spikes of ice.

  Several times, his chest rose and he opened his mouth, but then he clamped his jaw shut, the clench visible even through her still-blurry vision. His sideways glares raised the hackles on her neck. Eric so mad he couldn’t form words? Wow. He was one ticking second away from detonation. When was the last time he lost his temper? Okay, besides when she almost died as she tried to fry her brain two weeks ago. Prior to that, he’d never lost his cool.

  It boded poorly for her when he regained his ability to speak. A shiver shot through her spine.

  It would be so much better if he simply got it out. She glanced up at his hard profile and removed her hand from his arm. White lines formed at the corner of his mouth.

  On second thought, maybe he should keep everything to himself.

  The moment she moved away from him, a sensation, like vertigo or lack of firm footing, washed over her. She had to concentrate to keep from stumbling. Had he become her balance point? Her solid base?

  Literally and figuratively?

  Ok, seriously, what the heck was she smoking? Lack of REM sleep had made her loopy.

  As she went through the lodge door he held open for her, the chatter of voices combined with swirling emotions battered her from all sides. She absorbed the feelings of cotton-candy happiness and buzzing adrenaline but also dull frustration and mind numbing, muscle-aching fatigue. On a day when she was well-rested, she could filter most of the signals, but not today.

  Defenseless, she had to soak up every feeling around her. All of those emotions acted like leeches, attaching to her soul, sucking her dry, until she had no reserve left. No substance left. She grabbed the back of a chair, trying anything to brace herself against the onslaught.

  EMS and law enforcement officials milled around, packing up supplies and chatting. Mission accomplished. At what cost? She blinked and rubbed her malfunctioning eyes.

  She and Eric laid their coats on a folding table. At least she could see more than a few hours ago. Her improved vision allowed her to follow the shift of the muscles on his back, visible up close beneath the tight thermal base layer.

  Before she could sink into any surface resembling a chair, Ben appeared and dragged her over to the last ambulance crew remaining. Another ambulance had taken the skier to the hospital hours ago, and two other crews had returned to their bases. Latest report from the hospital was that the guy would be okay. Thank goodness.

  Blinking under the bright lights, she sat on the bench in front of the medics. She squinted but didn’t recognize their fuzzy faces. New guys, from Jackson, they had said. Too tired to make introductions, she slumped where she sat.

  “Eric said something about snow blindness. Can you check her out?” Ben was saying.

  She waved a hand. “Guys, I’m fine. It’s already improved. I’ll get an eye doctor to take a look later this week.”

  Ben’s head shifted in what she interpreted as a definite “no” action. “Uh-uh. We’re going to at least make sure there’s nothing dangerous going on.”

  “Fine.” With no energy left to argue or even offer up a snide remark, she endured an exam by a young, eager medic, complete with pulse ox, blood pressure, and lung exam. The only thing the guy noticed was some broken blood vessels in the whites of her eyes, which he said would go away within a week.

  And some wheezing throughout her lungs, which she knew all about.

  She declined the albuterol treatment offered. No need to call even more attention to her weaknesses.

  Without turning her head, she knew Eric stood behind her. She could detect that buzzing undertone of his anger and that spicy scent. Suddenly hungry, she licked her lips.

  “Want something to eat?” Eric asked.

  Her stomach growled. “You bet I do.” Unfortunately, checking to see if he tasted as good as he smelled was probably not what he meant.

  Ben laughed. “You two go sit with the rest of the team. I’ll bring over some chili and we’ll finish up the debriefing.”

  “Well? Shall we?” Eric asked, standing next to her, hand out. He was positioned close by, but his mental grid placed him miles away from her, emotionally speaking.

  His sandy hair, free of the helmet, swept back from his forehead in a blurry, tousled mess. She fought a strange urge to run her fingers through it.

  “No. I don’t want to get up.” She yawned. “Ever.”

  She went still as she caught the unsweetened dark chocolate undercurrent of his emotions. Bitter. Distant. Like he walled himself off all of a sudden. When he caught her under her arm to help her rise, it was like he merely went through the motions. “One more time, then we’ll go back to the ranch and you can stop moving.”

  “Until some other doofus tourist goes off-piste again without a buddy, beacon, or a plan. Right?”

  He blinked. The remoteness persisted, but now fatigue played front and center both in his mind and on the drawn lines on his face. “Hopefully, they spread out the disasters around here. Also, you did volunteer for this job, you know.” He rolled his shoulders.

  “Don’t remind me,” she groaned as her stiff back and legs protested the activity. Later. She’d deal with Eric’s hot-and-cold emotional states later. No energy to do so now.

  Keeping his hand on her arm, he led them to leather couches and wooden chairs formed into a makeshift semicircle. Shelby almost cried with happiness as the couch cushions cradled her tired back and butt.

  “Feels good to sit, huh?” Eric creaked the leather next to her.

  “This is dangerous. I’m way too comfortable. Wake me up when the debriefing begins.” She fingered the material. “Who knew the plant operations guys at the resort got such nice digs?”

  “Lift tickets here are over a hundred bucks a pop, so . . . ” He arced his hand to encompass the wood beams and newer furniture.

  “I’ll say.” She snuggled back into the cushion, ignoring how close his arm rested behind her head on the back of the couch.

  Nope. Definitely not going to think about how pleasant this moment felt, cocooned between his body, his arm, and the cushions.

  Ben brought over two steaming bowls of chili and began the review of the mission.

  The first bite of chili? Heaven on her tongue. Pepper and spices mixed with savory meat and sauce. Almost made the past twenty hours of exposure and near-blindness worth it. She couldn’t get the spoonfuls to her mouth fast enough.

  After the forty-five minute debrief, the team members broke away to drive home. Warm satisfaction over the successful job permeated the moods, an
d the muscles in Shelby’s back and neck relaxed.

  Until she and Eric were alone.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Seven a.m. Put a fork in me, I’m done,” he groaned as he stood up.

  She pushed to her feet one more time. “I agree. Ready to head home?” Hopefully, he would lead the way to their packs, because she still couldn’t make out the details of items on the tables more than a few feet away.

  “Ladies first.”

  Damn that smug undertone. Fine. She’d find them herself. As she turned to leave the debriefing area, she banged her shin against a low table she hadn’t seen.

  Throwing her arm out, she yelped as she fell. But she never hit the floor.

  Eric snaked an arm around her waist and yanked her back against his solid frame, pulling her off her feet. Was it her imagination, or did he deliberately delay her slide back down to the floor? Despite their alpine gear, the heat pouring off him made her toes tingle. That corded arm around her felt so right. So quietly in control.

  Classic Eric.

  A flash of anger and . . . hungry desire . . . rocked her back on her heels. He wasn’t hungry for chili, either. As soon as the emotion appeared, it disappeared, like a drape placed over a lamp.

  How much more was he hiding from her?

  No. As much as she’d love to enjoy more contact with his tall, solid frame, this was Eric. And she was Shelby. She had far too much baggage. He was a family friend and Kerr’s business partner. And, frankly, she couldn’t deal with the emotional exposure that came with her power.

  The upside if they made a go of it? Sure, she’d love to hang out with a sexy guy like Eric. She’d be a-okay watching him stack hay bales any day of the week. How about having deep conversations with a man who listened intently and followed her every move with those dark blue eyes? All good.

  The downside risk if she and Eric failed? Catastrophic. Her friendship with him, his work with Kerr, his presence on the ranch—all of it would be ruined.

  It so wasn’t worth the potential fallout.

  Her feet back on the ground, she turned within the circle of his strong arm, braced her hands, and pushed against his chest. Damn. Since when had Eric’s body gotten this hard? How had she missed how broad his shoulders were?

  He sucked in a breath.

  Another wave of velvet interest blew past her, then was sucked down into a virtual black hole. Admirable, how he maintained his separateness. If she didn’t know he was right in front of her, he could just as easily be in another zip code.

  And interest? For her? What? Her ability must have misfired.

  Because he was close, and she could make out his face as he studied her. His features froze into cruel, hard lines.

  “Still can’t see, huh?” His mouth barely moved.

  “It’s getting better.” A cough erupted.

  “Damn it, Shelby—” He tightened his arm around her waist.

  “This isn’t the right place to discuss it,” she whispered, holding back another cough.

  “Fine. But we are going to talk.” He released her quickly enough that she staggered a few steps.

  Damn.

  Grabbing their coats, he then snagged both of their packs like it was nothing to swing 120 pounds of gear over his shoulders and stormed out of the building, clasping her hand to guide her outside.

  Right. Because she couldn’t see. Because she was an idiot.

  Because even when he was mad, he still looked out for her.

  Chapter 7

  The trip from Jackson Hole back to Copper River typically took a little over an hour, but it seemed like an eternity to Eric. He ground his teeth and strangled the steering wheel. Extra traffic, more people on the road at this hour. It was Monday morning, after all. But navigating the morning commute on a highway in the Wyoming mountains was made more difficult by the relentless tension ramrodding his spine.

  He might be driving a king cab truck, but there wasn’t enough room for both Eric and Shelby. They had no business sharing the same space like this. The more he thought about what could have happened up on that mountain last night, the more complicated his feelings became. Pretty soon, he had a four-course meal of worry, outrage, and sexual frustration, topped off by a tasty dessert of pathetic longing for someone he would never have.

  Every time he let fly another fresh wave of anger, she cringed. Probably could tell he was pissed off. With effort, he tamped down his feelings. No use hurting her.

  There had been so many chances for her to get seriously injured or even killed last night. Hell, her vision hadn’t completely recovered. That counted as injured, even now. What about her breathing? Still raspy due to the damage from the fire, and the trek through the high country hadn’t helped.

  What the hell had she been thinking, going out there, using her new power to crawl into the victim’s head?

  She had been trying to save someone’s life.

  But besides that? Dumb move.

  Like when that damned Hank Brand kidnapped Zach and Sara. Shelby had gotten hurt helping to find them. There hadn’t been a thing Eric could do to protect her.

  Shelby hurt.

  Due to Eric’s lack of control over a situation.

  Seemed to be a messed up theme in his life.

  “Hey?” Her rough voice cut through the silence in the vehicle. “Dude, you’re going to break the steering wheel. Go easy on the emotions, already.”

  “Tough.” He kept his hands locked at ten and two. “Why should my mood affect you? You fucking entered a guy’s head and you’re bothered by me?” Several things clicked into place at once. His jaw dropped. “Wait.”

  When her eyebrows shot up and her mouth formed that tempting but telling O, he knew he had something here. Something that never occurred to him, but made a hell of a lot of sense, now that he thought about it.

  “Nothing. Never mind,” she stammered.

  “Your power changed two weeks ago when you picked up on how Zach and Sara felt. Then you did it again last night. Something must have happened.” He froze then turned one hand into a fist on the wheel. “No. No way.”

  “What?”

  “You can sense what I’m thinking, can’t you?”

  The sound of air and nothing else whooshing in and out of her open mouth reminded him of the wind rushing off the mountaintops. About as bracing, too.

  “Damn, Shel.”

  Her head snapped up and those brown and gold eyes locked onto him.

  He tried again. “Can you hear people’s emotions now?”

  Pressing two fingers to the bridge of her nose, she muttered, “It’s not just now.”

  “What?” he shouted. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. That meant that she knew everything he . . . oh fucking God. This was bad.

  Could you lower your voice?” she said, holding up a hand. “Actually, could you keep it down in there?” She pointed to his head. “My filter’s not working this morning.”

  “This particular power has a filter?”

  “Has for years.”

  “Shit. You’ve done this for years?” At this moment, he knew how the emperor without clothes felt once he realized how stupid he looked. “Any other skills you want to share with me?”

  “No. That’s it.”

  After this revelation, he didn’t completely believe her. But might as well keep the disaster of this discussion going. Not like he could run away from her right this second. “How does it work?”

  Shoving unruly multi-length sections of burnt hair back behind her ears, she said, “First of all, you need to keep your trap shut on my secret. Got it?”

  He nodded while he also scrambled to batten down the hatches on his every last emotion, thought, and feeling.

  “I can detect the feelings of people around me. Always could, since I was a kid. But I have learned to keep really good filters in place.” Her head bowed. “Sounds like a good deal, right? Detecting how people feel.”

  His locked jaw hurt when he
spoke. “Sounds like an unfair advantage.”

  Her gaze hit him then slid away. “Trust me on this one—no one wants to know everything that someone feels about them.”

  “So then, has something changed with your ability?”

  “After the episode with Sara and Zach two weeks ago, my power has done weird things. The filters aren’t working. It’s harder to keep them up, especially when I’m tired.”

  “Could you tell what people thought before you had the filters up?” Fascinating and horrifying at the same time, her power.

  “It’s more emotions rather than actual thoughts. But yes, I had to consciously trigger it to work. Thank God, right? That’s too much for one person to absorb.” She pressed a hand to the thermal top she still wore.

  “Yet you’re absorbing emotions now. No filters, right?”

  Scrubbing her hands over her eyes and forehead, she muttered, “Yeah. And if you could knock off the strong feelings, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Can’t help it. I’m not an expert at the psychic mumbo jumbo. And I am pretty pissed off at you, after all.”

  “Not exactly news.” When he let loose another wave of anger, she groaned. “That’s not very nice, Eric.”

  “Couldn’t give a shit. We’ll deal with the explanations of how you can do what you do later. But power or not, as a team leader, I’m giving you an order. You will not go out on a mission if you’re not healthy. And you cannot use your ability to get into someone’s head like that again.”

  “What? Now you’re my boss?”

  “I’m your boss in Search and Rescue, darlin’. Don’t ever pull that shit again on a mission. You’ll get someone killed.”

  She rounded on him, the rough slide of her tech pants too loud in the cab. “You’re concerned about other people dying? Seriously?”

  Just like that, his vision went red and imaginary hornets buzzed in his ears. Clamping his molars together before he blurted out the wrong answer, lost his ability to drive, and killed them both, he spied a pull out, parked, and unbuckled.