by Em Petrova
“Hold still, woman. How can I bandage you up?”
“You’re laughing at me.”
He grinned right in her face. “Never laughing. Amused, though.”
“I amuse you because that stung like a bitch and I screamed?”
“No. You amuse me because you’re so damn cute. Now hold out your arm and let me get this gauze around it. The bleeding’s stopped but we want to keep it clean.”
She went so quiet he had to check her face to make sure she wasn’t about to pass out and found her studying him, her teeth set in her lower lip.
He issued a growl. “Stop doing that.”
“What?”
“Biting your lip that way.”
She purposely set her top row of teeth into her plump lower lip.
He claimed her mouth again, planting his hand on the back of her head to hold her right where he wanted her. Each pass of his tongue became more frenzied. If he didn’t stop now, the cut would never get bandaged.
He pushed away. “Good thing you’re not bleeding bad because you’d lose a lot of blood.”
“Mm.”
He didn’t know if that was a sound of agreement or an aftershock from the kiss. A swell of pride that he could yank her mind from any pain she experienced ran through him. Looking more closely at the wound, he saw a bit more dirt lodged in the deeper part.
She looked away. “Do your worst. Dump the antiseptic in. I’m ready.”
With one hand, he squirted the wound and the other he closed his finger over her nipple. This time the sound she made was undeniable want. His cock shot to full length and throbbed hard behind his fly.
She tipped forward until her forehead met his shoulder, panting as he rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger until it was hard. “You’d make a good… medic.”
He chuckled and stopped feeling her up to examine the wound again. It was clean so he took the gauze and started winding it around her arm to the top of the cut, finishing it off with medical tape.
He reached for her, but she straightened away. Confused by her reaction, he looked at her face.
“Ryan, did you run into Aiden?”
His brows pinched. “Roshannon?”
“Yes.”
“He was here? Was he with you when you injured yourself?”
“No. I just ran across him.”
“What was he doing up here?” Then remembering she hadn’t told him where she was going, he growled out, “And where were you?”
“I went to the edge of the mountain to photograph some views. He said he came up to make sure I found you. But he told me that neighboring homesteader’s in trouble. They need our help, Ryan.”
He stared at her. “What are we going to do that they can’t do for themselves?”
Her gaze sliced sideways to the hanging, half-skinned deer. “They’re out of food, for one.”
He pushed out a sigh. The one thing that would bring him running to their aid. Dammit, he’d wanted to take Livvy to bed and comfort her after cleaning out her cut, but knowing a family was hungry had him moving to his feet.
“Could we take them some meat?”
“Guess we have to. What else do they need?”
“Firewood. Aiden said they’re ill-equipped to handle the rougher life here and my guess is they need anything we can share and carry.”
There went what little stores he had. But he could always hunt and round up wild mushrooms or something.
“Fine. I’ll take what I can to them and take my ax too, so I can help cut some wood.” He turned for the cabin to find a cloth bag to carry the rest of his potatoes and root vegetables. “You stay here and rest.”
She rocketed to her feet. “Rest from what? I’m going with you.”
A sigh vibrated his chest before he’d turned back to fully face her. Stubborn woman didn’t know when to listen. “You won’t stay, will you?” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement.
“Nope.” She moved past him into the cabin and went to the bed where her items were. She worked at her shirt buttons, and he couldn’t stop himself from walking to her side and taking over the chore. Dipping his finger between the buttons before he unfastened the next. When he reached her stomach, he flattened his hand over her warm skin, edging his fingertips into her waistband.
“Ryan, you have a one-track mind.”
He did, and it wasn’t on the homesteaders. Call him callous but all he wanted was to tip Livvy back onto the bed and hear her screaming in bliss.
“Ryan.” She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes.
He groaned. “Fine. Let’s get this done.”
She changed her top into something warm, dry and not ripped up the sleeve. As he gathered supplies to give to the family, Livvy switched batteries in her camera and added a second thumb drive to her pack, along with dry socks and a few other small items he didn’t identify before she slipped them inside.
Outdoors, he slung his shotgun and the bag of vegetables across his chest, hooked his sheathed ax and a big knife in his belt and then went to the hanging deer. Pulling it down and over his shoulders, he settled it for easier carrying.
“We aren’t taking the horse?” she asked.
“Doesn’t sound far like it’s far, and I can’t ride ahead with this deer and leave you walking. Unless you want to sit in the saddle with this carcass.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“That’s what I thought. We stick together.” His tone brooked no argument.
He double-checked the cabin door was securely bolted to prevent foraging bears and that his animals were happily safe in their pens.
Looking to Livvy, he said, “Ready?”
The expression in her eyes was unreadable, but they seemed to glow with something warm and bright and liquid. It made him ache to pick up where they’d left off kissing, but he supposed rescuing the homesteading family was the right thing to do. Survival before hormones. Jeez, that was a thought that, until a few days ago, he’d never believe would cross his mind.
Chapter Seven
Heart pattering with excitement, Livvy raised her camera just as the puffy bird landed on the branch, worm in mouth to feed its young. Then bam! Ryan walked in front of her lens.
She groaned, and he looked over at her, eyes dark and assessing as if expecting to find her bleeding.
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
“You sound like it.”
“Well, walking through the woods with you is just as nerve-wracking as it was in Afghanistan. You keep shielding me with your big body, making it impossible to get good photographs. That’s the second time you walked in front of my lens and now I have two photos of your big, muscled side and denim shirt.”
He tossed her a twist of his lips.
“I have no idea how to read that. Is it a smile? Or are you grimacing?”
“You think my side’s big and muscled?”
She blinked and stumbled to a stop. He paused too, and they looked at each other.
“You know it is, you arrogant man.” Another groan left her, but she couldn’t stop a smile from spreading over her lips. He might be irritating but he was damn hot and he freakin’ knew it. A dangerous combination.
As if she hadn’t already been aching for him the last half mile of their hike, now he was full-out smiling at her. Shouldering the deer and as much food as he could carry, he was rugged as hell.
“Oh, stop it already. Why don’t you move a few steps ahead so I can get some good photos?”
“I can’t watch you if you’re behind me,” he said, low.
“I don’t need watching. I’m quite capable of navigating these woods and what’s going to happen if I’m three steps behind? Oh yeah. I might get a decent shot.” She held up her camera on her palm and he grunted.
“Fine. Why don’t you catch up with me at the homesteaders’ when you’re ready?” He took off in long strides.
Now she felt bad. She was supposed to be focused on helping someone and here she was agon
izing over what shots she’d missed.
She had to admit, she had some great ones of Ryan’s body, though.
She hurried to catch up. He glanced down at her and she gave him the side eye. “Are you tired? I can take the bag.”
“It doesn’t weigh more than my gear did.”
That image shot into her mind—Ryan, grim-faced, huge and laden with ammo, pack and God knew what else. Their love story had started in a faraway land and now it had—
She stumbled. Not their love story—hers. He hadn’t given any indication he wanted her other than in his bed. Yet here she was having daydreams of staying with him on the mountain, of waking each day to work alongside him in order to survive.
Silly, she told herself. A man like Ryan wasn’t going to be tied down easily, if at all. Her unrequited love would have to live on in her mind alone and somehow, she had to find a way to walk away when the time came.
For now, she focused on placing her feet in the right spot so she didn’t go sprawling again.
Ryan gestured ahead to where Freckles trotted along an unseen path. “Pretty sure you’re right that he came from that other homestead. He seems to know his way.”
“He does.”
He swung his gaze to her, detecting her strange tone of voice. “You okay? Want to stay back and take photos? Can I carry something for you?”
At that, she laughed. “You’re packing a hundred fifty pounds of deer and what—ten of food? Plus that ax weighs a ton. And your boots alone weigh about ten pounds apiece. My thigh muscles would be screaming in those things.”
Was that a quirk of his lips she was seeing? She looked closer but it was gone as fast as it’d appeared.
“Deer’s small. Can’t be more than one-thirty.”
She wagged her head in a la-dee-da way and continued on. Through the trees, she spotted a dark shape. A wall.
“I think that’s it,” she said, pointing.
A long, rolling dog bark sounded and Freckles shot off with some answering barks.
Livvy and Ryan exchanged glances before walking up on the homestead.
At first sight, Livvy’s stomach hollowed out. These poor people. When Aiden said they needed help, it was a severe understatement. Compared to Ryan’s place, this looked like a slum. The cabin seemed to have only two sturdy walls. One was tilted in frighteningly and the other was nothing more than a tarp nailed down. The roof wasn’t in better shape and the family that lived there must be wet all season long.
“My God.” Ryan’s voice was gritty.
“How did they survive a winter let alone most of a spring?”
“No damn clue.” He stomped into the yard like them not coming to him for help was a personal affront. “Hello!”
From around the corner, a man stepped out, gun in hand. When he saw Ryan and Livvy, he lowered it. Then the flap of the tarp wall opened and a woman stepped out of the cabin followed by three little ones. All boys, each as thin and pale as the next. They looked like they were freezing, even wearing layers upon layers of clothing and despite the spring thaw.
Ryan bent and let the deer slide off his shoulders. “Heard you could use a hand.”
The man’s face blanked and then reddened with a blush that looked more painful than Livvy’s usually felt. Immediately, she sympathized with the man.
“I’m Ryan Stone. I live out that way.” He pointed the direction they’d come. “And this is Livvy.”
The homesteader dropped his gaze to the camera resting on her chest.
“I’m a photographer,” she said. “But I won’t take any photos without your permission.” She turned to the woman and children. “Hi. What’s your name?” The boys told her their names—Callen, Max and Colby. She shook each of their cold hands and tried not to wince at their icy fingers. This family had no heat.
Even if they had it, all of the heat would escape.
She smiled warmly at the mother and held out her hand. “Aiden Roshannon mentioned you could use some help. I hope you don’t mind us barging in.”
The woman shook her head, tears of relief hanging in her eyelashes. “Not at all. We welcome you. My name’s Lynn Hostler.”
She listened to the woman’s tale of how they’d followed their dream to live off grid. They’d managed to get through the winter without too much trouble but then food had run out and they’d invested all their money in animals and supplies.
Ryan sliced a look at Livvy, and she moved toward him to take the cloth bag. “I hope you can use some vegetables. We had a few extra.”
The kids grabbed the bag and tore it open, obviously starving. Livvy’s heart broke a little more. She’d seen hunger a lot in the third-world countries she’d traveled to, but it never got any easier. And this family had resources but no idea how to make the most of them.
The man gave his name as Chad. Ryan clasped his hand hard and pumped it. “Good to meet you, man. Can I look around your place?”
The man dipped his head in agreement, or embarrassment, Livvy didn’t know, and the pair took off as men did.
The oldest boy Callen nudged his mother’s arm. “We can get the deer hanging and finish skinnin’ it.”
“Yes, why don’t you do that, Callen?” She nodded to the other boys to get to work.
Livvy eyed the woman and then rested a hand on her arm. “We mean no disrespect.”
“None taken. People have pride, but I’ve long since lost mine. We can use some help, and Chad’ll agree once he stops being grouchy. Why don’t you come inside? You’ve had a long hike carrying all that stuff.” She pushed open the tarp flap to review a small dank space. “It’s not much but you’ll find a place to get off your feet.”
Livvy had sat in Native American tents and shacks in Bolivia. But she’d never seen such sadness as there was around her right now. A dream, never realized.
“I can offer you some water to drink if you’d like.” Lynn looked anxious.
Livvy held up a hand. “I’ve got my canteen but thank you. I don’t need anything. Why don’t you tell me where you came from?”
Ten minutes later, she knew Lynn’s sad story about moving from the big city, where the streets were filled with gangs and guns and she and Chad had wanted more for their sons. They’d traveled up the mountain with pack horses, built their cabin from supplies scavenged from the mountain and then the snow had hit.
“Early,” Lynn said. “Guess we should have guessed the weather’d be unpredictable, but we were caught short-handed and did what we could.” She waved at the tarp serving as one wall. “The last heavy snow collapsed the wall but we were able to save the roof. Then the snow was so high that we couldn’t get out to find wood. And well, I fear Chad’s lost heart. He could have fixed the wall at first thaw but…”
She trailed off, looking at her hands.
“Lynn,” Livvy said gently. “Do you want to continue on here? Or do you want to move off the mountain? There are nice villages in the valley. Small towns where crime’s not such a problem.”
Lynn’s gaze shot to hers. “I want to stay. We all do. Even the boys love it here, though I think they miss having friends to talk to. That’s why when the pups came along—”
Livvy sat up straighter on the rustic stool. “You mean Freckles is from a litter your dog had?”
Lynn’s brows drew down. “Freckles?”
“Yes, a puppy turned up at Ryan’s place.”
First Lynn sucked in a gasp and then issued a laugh until her shoulders shook. “That naughty pup! He’s kept my boys up at night wondering if he’s dead or alive. Each time he wanders off, we think we’ll never see him again and then he shows up. We figured he was getting fed somewhere, with that fat belly.”
With a smile, Livvy nodded. “Do you have a name for the pup?”
“Boys call him Samson after the Bible story but what did you call him again? Freckles. It fits much better.”
“How many puppies were in the litter?”
Lynn’s mouth curved down again. “Six in
total but he was the only survivor. See, the cold… We weren’t thinking about the weather claiming so many of our animals.”
After talking a while longer, Livvy found out that half of their pigs had died and all their chickens, claimed by the frigid temps and high snowfall here on the mountain. Without proper shelter for the animals, they’d lose them all when autumn hit.
She made a mental list of things this family needed right now—better shelter, pens for their animals and the start of a garden. But all of this would take work and money. She could offer her own funds and she was certain Ryan had some stowed away as well, knowing his miserly ways to reuse. But it was doubtful the Hostlers’ pride would allow that. It only stretched so far.
Which meant raising some money would help. Livvy had seen enough organizations and missions helping people that sudden inspiration struck.
“Lynn, would you mind if I take some photos of your homestead and maybe of you and your children?”
“I don’t mind, but I’ll have to get Chad’s take on it first.”
“Of course.”
After the guys returned, Chad agreed and Ryan gave her an approving lift of his brow, which meant Livvy’s plan was underway. That familiar excited thrill hit her stomach as she cradled her camera in her hands—and started shooting for a cause.
* * * * *
As Ryan raised the ax again to split another log, he tossed Chad a look. It was time to get some answers—and lay out the real ultimatum here. A man’s pride couldn’t keep his family from the basic things they needed to survive, if that was what was happening.
“So I hear you’re an artist.”
“Uh… yeah. Woodcarving mostly. Some knife-making, that is if I have supplies for a smithy.”
“And you made a living this way before coming here?”
He raised a shoulder and let it fall, whether shrugging off the question or stretching his stiff muscles. “Not really. It was more of a side job, but the extra money helped us leave everything behind and move here.” He concentrated on chopping for several more minutes before speaking again.
