Resisting Her Rebel Hero

by Lucy Ryder

  And then, as though suddenly realizing what she’d said, her cheeks turned pink and she sucked in a sharp breath while Sam choked out a stunned “Huh?” and dropped his uninjured hand to protect his crotch.

  “Not th-that low,” she stuttered with a strangled snicker. “Although I’d probably be doing the rest of the female population a favor.”

  He choked for the second time in as many seconds but before he could demand what she meant, the outer door banged open again and she froze, eyes jerking to his, all wide and apprehensive as though she expected him to go all psycho GI Joe on her.

  Dammit. He did not go around terrorizing women. Well…not unless they were holding a machine gun on him. Then all bets were off.

  Scowling, he opened his mouth to tell her to knock it off, but his brother strode into the holding cells looking all officious and in charge, and Sam turned his irritation on someone more deserving.

  Unfortunately, one look at Ruben’s face had Sam’s annoyance abruptly fading. He knew that look. Had seen it a thousand times on his CO’s face. Something was up. Something bad.

  “I hope you haven’t used that on him yet.” Ruben tossed an armful of clothing onto the bunk. “Get dressed,” he told Sam. “We’re heading out.”

  Blondie gasped and stepped between them. “What—? No!” she hissed. “Are you insane?”

  Sam ignored her outburst and rose, pain abruptly receding as his SEAL training took over. “What happened?”

  “A group of hikers didn’t check in after closing,” Ruben said, his wary gaze flicking to the syringe, “and the weather’s turned bad. Park rangers just found their vehicle up near Pike’s Pass. Lake route turned up empty and they think the group took the trail leading up into the mountains.”

  “Elk Ridge,” Sam guessed, fatigue instantly forgotten as adrenaline surged through his veins. Here was the opportunity he hadn’t even realized he’d been waiting for, to get out there and do something more useful than working the taps at his sister’s bar. Frankly, after months of “recuperation” he was thoroughly sick of his own company and damn tired of sitting around feeling sorry for himself.

  Ruben nodded and backed away, keeping a wary eye on Cassidy, as though expecting her to use the syringe on him. “Can’t you just wrap him up or something? My usual tracker had a family emergency and we’re in a hurry.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wrap—? He’s not a cheeseburger,” she snapped, sending Ruben’s eyebrows into his hairline. “And in case it escaped your notice, Sheriff, the major is bleeding, and he’s been drinking. It would be suicidal to go climbing mountains in his condition. I’m going to insist you leave him here. Or, better yet, let me take him to the hospital.”

  Sam brushed past her to where Larry had set out the medical supplies. “I’m fine,” he said brusquely, reaching for a wound dressing. “I told you I wasn’t drunk.”

  Before he could open the packet she snatched it from him and shoved her shoulder into his side as though she’d physically keep him from leaving.

  As if.

  He would have snickered at the absurdity if he hadn’t been sucking in a painful breath. Turning a scowl on her that usually had people backing off in a hurry, she surprised him with a snapped “Back it up, Major,” clearly not intimidated by his big bad Navy SEAL attitude.

  He gave an annoyed grunt and tried to snatch it back.

  “I mean it,” she warned, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Or I’ll use the syringe and the sheriff will have no choice but to go without you.” She narrowed her eyes at him when he continued to glare at her while contemplating letting her try.

  Heck, he might even enjoy it.

  “And FYI, buddy, I nearly got intoxicated on the alcoholic haze surrounding you when I arrived, and not five minutes ago you almost fell on your face. You are not in any condition to go anywhere, least of all into the mountains on S&R. Besides,” she reasoned sweetly, “you’re bleeding all over the sheriff’s nice clean jail cell. You need stitches.” She paused and dropped her eyes meaningfully to his hand and then his abdomen. “Lots of them.”

  Staring down at her, Sam felt his lips twitch. She was like an enraged kitten—all fierce green eyes and ruffled silver fur. For just an instant he was tempted to reach out and smooth his hands over all that soft skin and silky silvery blond hair until she purred. One look into her narrowed eyes, however, and Sam knew she would probably bite his hand off at the wrist if he tried.

  He made a scoffing sound filled with masculine impatience and amusement, which only served to narrow her eyes even further. “I’ve had mosquito bites worse than this,” he assured her, feeling unaccountably cheered by her concern. “And if you’re worried about blood alcohol levels, I’m sure the sheriff can organize a breathalyzer.”

  For long tense moments they engaged in a silent battle of wills until she finally uttered a soft “Aargh” followed by “Fine” in a tone that clearly meant it wasn’t, and Sam had to clench his teeth to keep from grinning. He had a feeling grinning would be bad for his health.

  “Oh…and FYI, sweetheart,” he continued, while she sorted through the supplies with barely leashed temper, “I wasn’t drinking. The weasel tried to break a bottle over my head. When I ducked, it shattered against the bar and soaked into my shirt. That was before he tried to gut me with it.”

  She turned towards him with a derisive sound and raised a brow that clearly conveyed her opinion of his explanation. “I said fine, didn’t I?”

  “You most certainly did,” Ruben said dryly, shoving his face between them. “But I’m still not seeing anything happening here, people.” He waited a couple of beats as his gaze ping-ponged between them. “So if you kids could save the lovers’ spat for another time, I’d like my chief tracker.”

  *

  Feeling her face catch fire, Cassidy broke eye contact with the Navy SEAL to send the sheriff a long, silent, narrow-eyed look that had him backing away with his hands up.

  She turned back to snap, “Lift your arm.” When he did she swiped disinfectant across the angry gash, completely ignoring the hissed response to her cavalier treatment.

  After a long murmured conversation during which she cleaned and applied a few adhesive cross-strips to keep the edges of the wound together, the sheriff left. Cassidy knew the instant the SEAL’s attention shifted back to her because the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

  With unsteady hands she dressed his wound then cleaned and tightly wrapped his hand in a waterproof dressing, before turning away to gather the debris.

  The length of her back heated an instant before a long tanned arm reached over her shoulder to snag a bandage. Cursing the way her skin prickled and her body tightened with some kind of weird anticipation, she sent a dark look over her shoulder and watched in silence as he awkwardly attempted to wrap it around his torso. After a moment she sighed and put out her hand, saying wearily, “I’ll do it.”

  Clearly surprised by her offer, Samuel held her gaze for a long tension-filled moment. His laugh was a husky rasp in the tense silence and did annoying things to her breathing. “You’re not going to strangle me with it, are you?”

  Cassidy knew the taping would help him move—and breathe—more comfortably as he leapt tall mountains in a single bound. She rolled her eyes and waited while he gingerly raised his arms to link both hands behind his head.

  Hard muscles shifted beneath his taut, tanned skin and she had to bite her lip to keep from sighing like a stupid female drunk on manly pheromones. She swallowed the urge to lean forward and swipe her tongue across his strong, tanned throat. As though he’d read her mind, he sucked in a sharp breath and she froze, watching in awed fascination as flesh rippled and goose bumps broke out across his skin an inch from her nose.

  Heat snapped in the air between them and her mind went numb. Good grief, she thought with horror, I’m attracted to him? Appalled and more than a little rattled, she lifted her gaze, only to find him watching her, the expression in his gold eyes sendin
g her blood pressure shooting into the stratosphere. She didn’t have to wonder if he was as affected by their proximity as she was.

  Tearing her gaze from his, she muttered, “You’re an idiot,” unsure if she was addressing him or herself. In case it was him, she continued with, “And so is the sheriff for expecting you to go out like this.”

  “Hikers are missing,” he reminded her impatiently.

  She rolled her eyes. She’d treated people suffering from trauma and knew enough about PTSD to be worried about the battle-alert episodes that culminated in dizziness, muscle tremors, sweating and confusion.

  “You almost fainted,” she pointed out.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, as though she’d suggested something indecent. “SEALs don’t faint. I was just a bit dizzy, that’s all. I suffer from low blood pressure.”

  Cassidy looked up at the outrageous lie and shut her mouth on a sigh. Clearly he was in denial. Fine. She was just doing her job.

  Besides, he was a Navy SEAL. She reminded herself that he did this kind of thing all the time. A shiver slinked up her spine as she pictured him sneaking into hostile territory, wiping everything out before ghosting out again as silently as he’d arrived. She could even picture him—

  “What?”

  Yeah, Cassidy. What?

  Shaking her head, she went back to binding his torso, reminding herself that she didn’t need rescuing. She wasn’t a damsel in distress and those gold eyes couldn’t see into her mind or know what was happening to her.

  Except—darn him—he probably did. He was no doubt an expert at making women lose their brain cells just by flexing those awesome biceps—or staring at them with that brooding gold gaze. It was no wonder she felt like she was running a fever. It was no wonder her blood was humming through her veins. Her hormone levels were probably shooting through the stratosphere along with her blood pressure.

  Finally she fastened the bandage and took a hasty step back, nearly knocking over the table and its contents in her haste to escape. A large hand on her arm kept her upright and when it tightened as she turned away, she looked up. With his gaze on hers, he gently swiped a line of fire across her bottom lip. She gasped and her heart gave a shocked little blip at the unexpected contact.

  “Thank you,” he said, leaning towards her. And just when she thought he meant to kiss her, he snagged a plastic container of pain meds behind her. Grinning at the expression on her face, he popped the top, shook a couple into his palm.

  He gave a mocking little salute and tossed the container back in the box. “Gotta go,” he said, scooping up his clothing in his good hand. With one last heated look in her direction he sauntered from the cell, all long loose-limbed masculine grace, leaving Cassidy staring at the wide expanse of his muscular back and the very interesting way he filled out his faded jeans.

  Fortunately, before the outer door could close behind him, Cassidy pulled herself together enough to croak, “You need stitches, Major. I suggest coming to the hospital before you get septicemia and die a horrible death.”

  Grinning at her over one broad shoulder, he drawled, “It’s a date, darlin’,” and disappeared, leaving Cassidy with the impression that he had absolutely no intention of following through with his promise.

  At least, not for sutures.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE SMALL TOWN of Crescent Lake had been established when traders heading north had come over the mountains and found a large crescent-shaped lake nestled in a thickly wooded area. According to Mrs. Krenson at the Lakeside Inn, it had started out as a rough fur-trading town that had gradually grown into the popular tourist town it was today.

  The inn, once the local house of pleasure, had been remodeled and modernized over the years. Rising out of a picturesque forest, with mountains at its back and the lake at its feet like a small sparkling sea, it now resembled a gracious, well-preserved old lady, appearing both elegant and mysterious. At least, that’s what it said in the brochure and what Cassidy had thought when she’d arrived a few weeks before.

  Now, with dark clouds hanging over the valley, the lake was nothing like the crystal-clear mirror it resembled in the pictures and Cassidy had to wish for “sturdy” rather than mysterious.

  The day had dawned gray and wet and, standing at her bedroom window, Cassidy couldn’t help shivering as she looked up at the mountains shrouded in swirling fog, eerily beautiful and threatening. She wondered if the hikers had been found.

  And if she was thinking of a certain someone, it was only because he had no business being out there in the first place. He might be an all-weather hero, but he’d been exhausted, injured and on an edge only he could see. All it would take was one wrong move, one misstep and… And then nothing, she told herself irritably as she spun away from the window. Samuel Kellan was a big boy, a highly trained Navy SEAL. If he wanted to scour the mountains for the next week, it was what he’d been trained for. Heck, he could probably live off the land and heal himself using plants and tree bark.

  Whatever effect he’d had on her, Cassidy mused as she closed her bedroom door and headed for the bathroom at the end of the hall, it was over. She’d had the entire night to think about her reaction to him and in the early hours had come to the conclusion that she’d been suffering from low blood sugar…and maybe been a little freaked at finding herself in a jail cell. Maybe even a little awed at meeting a national hero. All perfectly logical explanations for her behavior.

  Fortunately she’d recovered, and if she saw him again she’d be the cool, level-headed professional she had a reputation for being. Besides, Samuel J. Kellan was just a man. Like any other.

  After a quick shower, she brushed her teeth and headed back to her room to dress. It was her day off and she intended playing tourist. She might have come to the Cascades to escape the mess she’d made of things in Boston, but that didn’t mean she had to bury herself in work. Crescent Lake was a beautiful town filled with friendly, curious people who’d brought her baked goodies just to welcome her to town.

  She’d read that the Lakefront Boardwalk housed a host of stores that included a few antiques shops, an art gallery selling local artwork, a quaint bookshop and, among others, a cozy coffee shop with a spectacular view of the lake and mountains.

  She hadn’t had a decent latte since leaving Boston, and according to the nurses, Just Java served a delicious Caribbean mocha latte, and the triple chocolate muffins were better than sex.

  Just what she needed, a double dose of sin.

  A soft knock on her door startled her out of her chocolate fantasy and sent her pulse skittering.

  “Dr. Mahoney?” a muffled voice called from the hallway. “Cassidy, dear? Are you awake?”

  Shrugging into her wrap, Cassidy fastened the tie and shoved damp hair off her forehead. She pulled open the door as a ball of dread settled in her belly. Her landlady wouldn’t disturb her unless there was an emergency.

  Val Krenson’s brows were pinched together over her faded blue eyes and one hand was poised to knock again. “I’m sorry to wake you, dear,” she apologized quickly. “That was the hospital. They found the hikers. How soon can you get there?”

  “Ten minutes,” Cassidy said, already morphing into emergency mode. “Fifteen at the most.” She stepped back into the room and would have shut the door but Val held out a hand to detain her.

  “John Randal is downstairs, dear. Shall I ask him to wait?”

  “That’s okay, Val,” Cassidy said with a quick shake of her head. “I’ll need my car later and I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.” The last time the deputy had driven her anywhere she’d landed up at the jail. So not going there.

  “Planning a little down time?” Val asked with a warm smile.

  “It’ll have to wait.” Cassidy sighed. “They didn’t say how serious, did they?”

  “I’m afraid not, dear. Just that you get there as soon as possible.” She leaned forward. “I’m glad you’re here to help Monty out, dear. He tires easil
y these days.” She shook her head. “That man should have retired years ago but not many people want to bury themselves in the mountains.”

  In some ways Cassidy could understand why. They were a couple of hours from the nearest large town and there wasn’t much in the way of nightlife that didn’t include a few bars, steakhouses and the local bar and grill, Fahrenheit’s.

  She might feel like a fish out of water, but she’d been surprised to discover she liked the close-knit community where people knew each other and exchanged gossip with their favorite recipes.

  At least here people stopped to chat when they saw you, she thought with a smile, instead of staring right through you as though you didn’t exist, or scuttling away like you were an escaped crazy. Surprisingly she was enjoying the slower pace. It was a nice change to be able to connect with the people she was treating. But long term? She didn’t know.

  “It’s a beautiful town, Val, but I’ve only got a short-term contract.”

  Val laughed and patted Cassidy’s arm. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said over her shoulder, a twinkle lighting her blue eyes. “I have a feeling you’re going to be around a long time.”

  Cassidy uttered a noncommittal “Hmm” and shut the door behind her landlady. She hunted in the closet for a clean pair of jeans, underwear, socks and a soft green long-sleeved T-shirt. Dressing quickly, she shoved her feet into the nearest pair of boots and grabbed a brush that she hurriedly pulled through her wet hair before piling it on top of her head in a loose style that would dry quickly. Foregoing makeup, she grabbed her medical bag and jacket and headed for the door.

  Fifteen minutes after closing the door behind the innkeeper, Cassidy pulled up beside the hospital’s staff entrance. Locking her car—which everyone said was unnecessary—she hurried into the waiting room, which was already bustling with chaos and reminded her of a busy city ER.

  Her eyes widened. There were people everywhere—sprawled in chairs with their heads tilted back in exhaustion, while even more hovered near the entrance, propping up the walls, slugging back steaming coffee and wolfing down fat sandwiches handed out by a group of women.