Every Girl Needs A Hero (Escape To The Bitterroot Mountains Book 2)

by Debra Kayn

  "We go through the motions." She gazed up from the toaster. "Okay?"

  "Yeah." He moved and retrieved the can of coffee.

  He wanted to grab her and put her in the bedroom. Lock them both in the cabin. It was the only way he could keep her in his life. He couldn't lose anyone else or what the fuck was the purpose of his life?

  She had the right idea. He'd go to headquarters, get everyone started on their tasks and keep moving forward. That's what Will would've told him to do.

  They ate their toast in silence. He couldn't tell what kind of jam she used, he only tasted guilt.

  "Ready?" He wiped the crumbs from his beard.

  "I think so." She ran her fingers through her hair. Taking her hand, he walked her to the ATV. He dropped her off at headquarters and talked with the employees while Katelynn went inside.

  The first guest pulled in as everyone went to work. He checked out the newer motorhome, the couple around his age, and deemed them safe before riding over to Loop A. It was going to be a long fucking day.

  QUINT STOOD ON THE porch having a cigarette. Katelynn tiptoed outside and wrapped her arms around him. After spending all day trying to figure out how to comfort Quint while he mourned Will, she'd finally came up with an idea.

  "Will you do me a favor?" she asked, kissing his back.

  He raised his arm and twisted, hooking her around the neck, bringing her to the front of him. "What?"

  She swallowed. "Come in the cabin with me."

  He nodded, stepping away and putting out his cigarette in the sand pot. She slid her fingers into his hand and led him through the cabin to the master bathroom.

  Before he could guess what she'd planned, and refuse, she undid his belt. "You have a gorgeous large tub."

  "I never use it," he muttered.

  She worked on the buttons of his shirt. "I kind of figured that out."

  He leaned forward, looking over her head. She kissed his chest, trying to distract him. He was always busy, running around the campground, taking care of business, and protecting her.

  She kneeled at his feet, undoing his boots.

  "I'll just jump in the shower," he said.

  "I have a better idea." Standing, she pushed his jeans past his hips. "Take a bath."

  "I don't—"

  "Please." She leaned into him, knowing it'd take some convincing for him to see things her way. "It'll be relaxing. I promise."

  His gaze came down to her. "This is the favor you wanted?"

  She nodded. "Please?"

  He toed his boots off and kicked his legs, sending his jeans over to the corner of the bathroom. She led him over to the tub and stuck her hand in the water. The temperature inviting and warm.

  Quint looked at her. "Are you getting in, too?"

  "No." She gave him a soft push and exhaled in relief when he stepped into the water and lowered his body.

  "Shit. It's hot," he mumbled, leaning back.

  She sat on the edge of the tub. "You'll get used to it."

  Picking up the washcloth, she dipped it in the water and using his bar of soap, worked up a lather. Out of her peripheral vision, she watched him. He looked miserable with his knees stuck out of the water because his legs were too long for the tub. She'd guessed wrong, figuring he would fit since he designed the bathroom when he'd built the cabin.

  Shifting, she took the washcloth and submerged it in the water again, then rubbed his chest, getting him soapy. He lowered his chin, watching her hand on his body.

  "I've never given a man a bath before." She concentrated on following the pattern of his chest hair. "I know the warm water always relaxes me. Makes me sleepy."

  She dunked the cloth and brought it up to his shoulders, running the material down his upper arms. His muscles bunched as she touched him. She pursed her lips and forced herself to exhale slowly. Tonight, was about Quint, not her.

  Her lower stomach fluttered. She picked up the soap, needing the distraction, and made more suds. Thinking his legs would be less erotic, she scrubbed his upturned knees and down around his calves. As soon as her hand went below the surface of the water, she realized her mistake. There was a big part of his body under the water.

  It'd be a shame not to wash all of him.

  Traveling the cloth up his thigh, she stared at his upper stomach. His chest expanded the closer she got to his cock. Chickening out, she went back up to his knee. Her body flushed. She peeked at him below her lashes and found him watching her intently.

  "You missed a spot." His low, rough voice caused her to shiver.

  "Hm." She rubbed a spot on his thigh. "I don't think so."

  Her pulse thrummed, and her skin warmed, knowing he was enjoying her discomfort. She gulped. Her pleasure.

  She'd come up with the idea of a bath believing it would comfort him. Used to him naked, she hadn't realized how hot it was to take her time and caress him as soap covered his hard body.

  The back of her hand skimmed his hardness. Her gaze met his, and she stilled. With everything happening, the thought of sex should never enter her mind.

  "Katelynn?"

  "Yes?" She stared into his eyes.

  "Thanks for the bath." He took the washcloth out of her hand. "You know what I'd really like right now?"

  "What?" She swallowed, hiding the squeak in her tight throat.

  "You." He stood.

  She gazed up. Water dripped down his naked body. She stood, stepping back. He stalked toward her. Panting, she backed up, holding her hand behind her, reaching for the door and made it into the bedroom.

  A few feet from the bed, he caught her by hooking his finger in the neck of her T-shirt. She gasped, and her ovaries sighed in pleasure.

  "We have a problem," he said.

  "What?" Her heart raced. "What did I do?"

  "You're still dressed." He stepped away and walked to the bedside table and removed a condom from the drawer. "Either I can fix that for you or you can..."

  She pulled her shirt over her head. His low chuckle made her smile. The bath might not have been a hit with him, but she'd put him in a better mood. Tonight was a step in the right direction. For both of them.

  Chapter 32

  Quint stuck his head into headquarters, finding it free of any guests. "Katelynn? You ready?"

  She turned around from stocking shelves and brushed her hands off on her hips. "Yeah, I just finished putting away the delivery."

  "I'll wait for you." He let the door close.

  It'd been five days since they'd lost Will. He rubbed the back of his neck. The only thing saving him from losing his mind was Katelynn and the fact Labor Day weekend was coming up, and the campground was booked solid for the holiday.

  A dog barked in the distance. He tensed, gazing around the grounds, at first not seeing anything. Then, he spotted a female guest walking her pet on a leash through the trees on Loop B. He gritted his teeth. The rules were clearly stated upon registration where the dogs were allowed on the campground.

  The door shut behind him. He walked backward, keeping his gaze on the trees, and reached for Katelynn. She grabbed his hand, and he held on tight.

  "What's wrong?" She hurried to keep up with him.

  "Nothing." He stopped beside the ATV. Old habits were hard to break, he was used to keeping his fears hidden. But, she knew his past.

  He let go of her hand. "There's, uh, a dog in the wrong area of the campground."

  "I'll run over and—"

  "No." He stopped her. "Not a good idea."

  "But—"

  "We've got something more important to deal with right now." He sat on the quad. "I told the others we'd meet them up on the peak."

  She slid behind him. He started the engine and rode toward the cabin. Not stopping, he took the trail behind the house. Daylight still stretched long enough in the evenings, he could get to the top of the mountain peak and back again before darkness set in.

  The ride gave him time to clear his head, to push away the pain and anger, k
nowing the moment he came together with Anders and Mark, the loss of Will would be monumental.

  Over the last thirty years, Will and the others had become family. They all lived within one hour of each other. Close enough, they could watch and protect the mountain from their enemies. Yet, far enough away, they could seek solitude and try and forget about their past.

  A past that dogged his steps and whispered in his ear.

  He assumed Anders and Mark struggled in the same way and still battled the nightmares and memories. Now, they had more guilt to live with. They'd lost Will.

  All of their protection meant shit. The mountain let their enemies in. Nowhere was safe.

  Twenty minutes later, he rounded the last switchback. Ahead of him, Anders sat in a UTV side-by-side with Iliana. Mark stood beside his quad. He pulled between them and stopped.

  Nobody said a word. He stared over at the two white crosses at the edge of the mountaintop.

  Joney.

  Two-crow.

  For someone who had started life with nobody, shuffled from foster home to group home in a brutal circle growing up, he felt the loss of his small make-shift family.

  Katelynn laid her head against the back of his shoulder. When he'd told her that morning about his plans to honor Will after work, she'd wanted to go with him. There was no hesitation on his part to invite her along. He'd wanted her with him.

  "Let's do it." Mark untied a white wooden cross from the back of his ATV and grabbed a hammer out of the duffle bag Bungee corded on the rack.

  Heaving a sigh of resignation, Quint squeezed Katelynn's leg, signaling for her to slide off the seat. He walked her across the rocky ground.

  It was hard for him to believe Will was dead. Despite being at the cabin and watching it burn to the ground, he'd called Will's phone yesterday, hoping he'd pick up. He'd give anything to talk to him one more time to tell him he understood the last choice he'd ever make.

  Anders carried a tin urn. Iliana gave Katelynn a quick hug before separating and squeezing Quint's arm.

  Following Mark, he stopped at the edge of the mountain. A cool breeze kicked up, reminding him summer had already ended at the higher elevation. Too soon, Katelynn would leave him.

  Mark pounded the wooden cross into the ground, then wiggled the top of the stick making sure the stake was deep enough to withstand the extreme weather in the mountains.

  His throat burned. He swallowed, making the pain worse. There was never supposed to be three crosses. All six of them were supposed to be living the life they'd dreamed of while held captive in Mexico.

  Now, three non-descript, roughly-made crosses would stand on the Bitterroot Mountains to mark the spot where the living could mourn.

  Things hadn't worked out the way they had all hoped.

  Jaster was still out there. How many of them would be left at the end of the year?

  Mark fell back in line beside Anders. Quint tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. If he ignored the crosses, he could pretend they were all still alive. Joney would be racing cars, and during his spare time, he'd restore vehicles he admired from the sixties. Two-crow would finally build that damn sweat lodge he talked about all the time and find the time and confidence to travel. Will would...

  Quint squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them only to find his pulse racing. Will would be married. Out of all of them, Will had wanted children. Sons to teach how to hunt and fish. Daughters he could finally share his love of the wilderness with. Hell, Will would've been right beside his children, finally enjoying a childhood he was robbed of.

  Katelynn leaned against him, putting her arm around him. He held her, knowing he'd be a damn fool to lose the one thing he wanted in his life.

  "I hope that if there's a heaven, Will gets to spend all his time fishing. It'd be a damn shame if..." Mark dug the heel of his boot in the dirt. "Damnit."

  Fishing was all Will had wanted to do when they were kept in Mexico. The poor kid had never held a pole in his hand and yet had grand plans to someday fish for a living. He'd finally found that life when he began the guided fishing and hunting excursions.

  Quint's throat seized. He swallowed the emotions bubbling to the surface.

  Will had longed for a simple life with nobody telling him what to do or where to go.

  "His life was too short," mumbled Quint.

  "He was a dedicated friend. A brother. Loyal," added Anders.

  Katelynn laid her head against Quint's bicep. He lifted his arm and drew her close to him. Will, like Two-crow and Joney, deserved more than a mountaintop funeral with a few words. He couldn't speak about how Will made him feel or what his friendship meant to him.

  He had no words. All he wanted to do was step forward and kick the cross out of the ground and send it over the side of the mountain.

  "Would you like me to sing?" asked Iliana softly.

  Someone must've given her permission—probably Anders—because her husky, low voice filled the air. Quint lowered his gaze and stared at the base of the crosses. Iliana sang of a hill far away and an old rugged cross.

  He closed his burning eyes. None of them, except for maybe the ladies, had ever been to a proper funeral. All they could do for the ones they'd lost was give them a spot on the peak and spread their ashes on the mountain.

  Like a blink of an eye, life had changed once again. He had no idea how he was supposed to go on when each loss got harder and harder. Will knew the pain and had suffered. Though, he hadn't been scared. At the last minute of his life, he'd only wanted to sleep.

  To close his eyes to a dreamless night.

  Iliana finished singing. Anders stepped forward until the tips of his boots touched the edge of the mountain. Quint sniffed. His nose suddenly runny.

  "Will Harmon." Anders exhaled loudly. "You were a hell of a friend, brother."

  Quint gritted his teeth. This wasn't supposed to happen.

  There was supposed to be six of them standing On the Bitterroots, enjoying their freedom, looking forward to the future. He wasn't supposed to be saying goodbye to Will.

  He was forty-six years old. How fucking long were they supposed to live each day, looking over their shoulders?

  Anders unscrewed the lid to the urn, bent down, and poured Will's ashes over the cliff. Quint's chest squeezed, and he panted for breath.

  Stepping away from the edge, Quint walked away from the group. There was no way in hell, he'd stand up on the mountain and put another cross up.

  Bending over, he braced his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. The top of his head pounded as if any moment, he'd explode.

  A hand landed on his back. "Are you okay?"

  He stared at the toes of his boots. His head was messed up. Katelynn shouldn't even be here. She was too good to carry his crimes with her.

  "I’m sorry. That was a stupid question." She rubbed his back. "Can I do anything for you? There's a water bottle on the ATV if you want—"

  I'm fine." He straightened. "I need to get out of here."

  She glanced over at the others. "Do you want me to tell them we're leaving?"

  It wasn't her job to take care of him. He ran his hand over his beard. "I'll tell them. Go ahead and get ready to ride back down the mountain."

  He walked to the others without Katelynn. Soon, he'd need to get used to not having her around. She'd be leaving, and he should be glad.

  Instead, he dreaded the day.

  Chapter 33

  Quint threw the ax toward the woodpile. Jared, keeping a wide berth, walked over and picked up the handle. Katelynn stood inside headquarters, peering out the open window. She'd given Quint space the last twenty-four hours after spreading Will's ashes, and his mood remained angry.

  "Did I tell you to pick up the ax?" Quint raised his hands in the air. "If you think you can do any better with green wood, you can split the rest of it. I'm fucking done."

  Quint stormed off, got on the ATV, and rode out of sight, sending gravel flying behind him. She sighed,
walking away from the window. This impatient, fuming side of him was new to her.

  But she understood.

  While Cord no longer remained her friend or someone she cared about since meeting him face to face and seeing his true personality, the wide range of emotions she'd gone through after accidentally killing him almost broke her.

  Only having Quint around saved her.

  She wanted to do the same for him, but he'd pushed her away like he had every employee. He was even short-tempered with the guests, forcing the employees to try and out-work him to keep the campers happy.

  The phone rang. She stepped around the counter and answered. "Bitterroot Campground. How can I help you?"

  "Katelynn."

  She looked around the office, surprised to hear his voice. "Quint?"

  "Lock up headquarters, take one of the ATVs, and come to the cabin," said Quint.

  "Okay..." She opened the till and grabbed the cash bag from under the counter. "Is something wrong?"

  He'd left Jared to work alone and had taken off. She figured he'd left to work by himself and be alone.

  "I need you." He disconnected the call.

  Stunned, she put down the phone. He'd never admitted to needing her before.

  Wanting? Yes.

  She scrambled to put the money in the safe and then she locked the main door. Knowing Quint was at the cabin waiting for her, she borrowed one of the ATVs and rode faster than normal.

  Her adrenaline pumping, she parked and jumped the steps onto the porch, and walked into the house.

  Out of breath, she caught sight of Quint a millisecond before he dragged her up his body and captured her mouth. Hard, deep, impatient, he kissed her while grabbing her ass and picking her up.

  He carried her to the bedroom. Her body pulsated as she held his head and stroked his tongue.

  He set her on her feet, breaking apart from her only to take her shirt off over her head. She grabbed for the back of her bra and Quint pushed her fingers away, doing the work quicker than her.

  Her breasts fell free and his gaze dropped. Needing all her clothes off, she wiggled her way out of her jeans, taking her panties with her. She danced in front of him, trying to toe off her sneakers in her hurry while her clothes were puddled around her ankles.