The Outpost (Jamison Valley Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  “That guy’s going to get his ass handed to him one of these days,” Michael said. “He’s just lucky Beau wasn’t here.”

  “Hmm,” I hummed my agreement, though I had a feeling it was because Beau hadn’t been here that Dylan had approached in the first place.

  “Talk about a mood killer,” Michael said.

  “Let’s get something to eat,” Tall Cousin said. “I’m starving.”

  I followed all of them over to one of the vehicles where Short Cousin rifled through a box filled with silver packets. Ripping one open, he held it out to me first. “Ice cream?”

  “What?” I stepped closer and saw the inside was filled with freeze-dried ice cream. “This is what you guys are eating?”

  He shrugged. “MREs aren’t so bad.”

  I broke off a piece of the cardboard-white square and sniffed it before popping it into my mouth. “That is not good. Not at all,” I said, swallowing my bite. “Come on, Michael, let’s raid my stash and bring these guys some decent snacks.”

  An hour later, most of the alcohol had been consumed, my food tubs had been decimated, and we were all having an awesome time.

  Beau had returned to my side not long after Michael and I had brought out the food. I’d let out a huge sigh of relief when I’d looked over at Dylan’s cot and seen that he had finally passed out.

  With Dylan no longer staring at me, I was finally able to relax and enjoy my first campfire party. As the lingering sunbeams vanished and stars appeared, we all settled around the fire for an evening spent telling stories.

  Me, the Holts and the hotshots.

  “Having fun?” Beau asked softly as Short Cousin told the group a joke.

  I was perched on one of my food tubs while he was sitting on the ground at my side. I looked down at him and smiled. “Yeah. I am.”

  “Hey, Holt. Tell us about your first fire.”

  It wasn’t the first request the young men had asked of Beau. He’d told just as many stories tonight as he’d listened to. Everyone around the fire, including me, wanted to soak up as much Beau as they could before morning.

  “It was a small fire,” Beau answered. “Kind of like this one. I had just finished training and was the new guy on my crew.”

  Beau continued to tell the men about his experience on that first fire and the others he fought during his first summer as a hotshot. With every story, I felt closer and closer to him. Learning about his past cemented what I’d always known: Beau was as steady as a mountain in a storm. Nothing seemed to scare him.

  I couldn’t imagine him young and wide-eyed, like the men in our campfire circle. I bet his parents would attest to Beau always being an old soul. A part of me longed for the chance to meet them and learn about his childhood. To see his baby pictures. To see him relaxed and enjoying time with his family.

  A sad and hopeless feeling settled into my heart. Our time together was fleeting. I needed to make a choice: push Beau away and spare my heart any further agony, or take as much of him as I could until our time was up. If that kiss we’d shared was any indication, the closer we got physically, the harder it would be to eventually leave.

  The weight of that looming decision drained all of my energy reserves, and my eyelids started to droop. I yawned and patted Beau’s shoulder. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

  “Oh, uh, okay,” he said, pushing up off the ground.

  “That’s okay. You stay. These guys would hate me forever if I deprived them of hero-worship time.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. Michael and I will be in after we finish our drinks. Here, take a flashlight.”

  I smiled and said my good nights to the men. Before I set off across the meadow, I took one last glance at Dylan, still passed out by the truck. Sleeping, he didn’t look nearly as menacing as he had earlier.

  Was I being overly paranoid? Dylan was very drunk and maybe I’d imagined the worst. I frowned, mentally cursing Anton Federov. Other than the nightmares, I hadn’t really experienced much post-traumatic stress from Anton’s attack. I had thought I’d come through fairly unscathed, but now I was realizing he hadn’t just done a number on my body with his beating. Apparently, he’d also given me a slew of trust issues when it came to strange men.

  Shaking off those ugly thoughts, I made my way back to the outpost. The warmth of my little home chased away the chill I’d gotten after leaving the fire, and grabbing some sleep shorts and a T-shirt from my bag, I went right to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

  I was in the middle of brushing and braiding my hair when I heard the door open and footsteps cross the living room. Hurrying, I tugged out the braid and tied my hair in a topknot. Beau must have left Michael at the fire and I was hoping we’d have a few minutes to talk about our kiss the other day.

  “Decided to come back after all?” I asked, stepping out of the bathroom. My feet froze. It wasn’t Beau, but Dylan, in my living room. “Uh, hi. What are you doing here?”

  Now that we were inside and in better light, I could see how bloodshot and unfocused his eyes were. Dylan wasn’t drunk. He was hammered. It was a wonder he could even stand.

  “Just wanted some better company,” he slurred. “Fucking sick of hearing Beau tell the guys how fucking great he is.”

  I had made a mistake in thinking Dylan had been passed out this whole time. Had he been waiting for this chance to follow me back? Surely someone must have seen him leave the campsite, right? My heart was racing but I fought to appear calm.

  My eyes darted to the door, willing Beau or Michael to walk through it. Dylan’s body swayed back and forth as he stood in silence and watched me. What was he doing here? The worry I’d felt earlier about his mental health was back in full force.

  “Do you want some water?” I abandoned my spot by the bathroom door and walked sideways along the far wall. If the bathroom had a lock, I would have barricaded myself inside, but as it didn’t, my gut was telling me to get as close to the front door as possible.

  “Where you goin’?” Dylan took one step closer and I stopped mid-step.

  “I’m just getting you some water. You look thirsty,” I lied. He looked crazy.

  “You know what I’m tired of?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m tired of everyone always talking about fucking Beau Holt. The trainers. My boss. My own fucking crew! Be more like Beau. Do what Beau would do. Play it safe like Beau. Fuck safe. And fuck Beau!”

  I flinched as he threw a hand out to the side while he yelled. The stumbling, bumbling drunk in front of me morphed into a raging lunatic. His movements, which had been sloppy seconds ago, were now oddly controlled as his anger boiled to the surface.

  “Calm down,” I said, holding up my hands and inching closer to the kitchen.

  “Fuck calm!” he roared and I flinched again.

  “Dylan, just take a breath. Let me get you some water. We can sit and talk this out.”

  When I took another step, he came at me with one long stride. “Talk. You don’t want to talk. You want to get over here and gimme a kiss. I saw the way you were eyeing me earlier. Wouldn’t Beau just love that? Walk in on me kissin’ his girl.”

  My whole body started trembling. This was too familiar, too terrifying. I’d lived through this with Anton and survived. I had fought to keep Anton out of my dreams. I wasn’t going through this again with Dylan.

  I just had to make it out the door. It was time to act fast.

  With one huge step, I faked a lunge to the bathroom. Dylan bought my false move and dived for me. I was banking on the fact that he was drunk and his reflexes slow. While his momentum carried him one way, I jumped back the opposite way.

  I made it one step before Dylan yelled and flung his long body backward. His boots slid on the wooden floor and he lost his footing, but as he fell, his arm swung wildly at my bare feet. His arm hit my ankle, causing me to stumble.

  With a loud thud, my body crashed into the floor. The impact sent a shooting pain through my hip but I ig
nored it and scrambled onto my hands and knees, clawing with desperation toward the kitchen as Dylan awkwardly struggled to stand.

  Dylan cussed and yelled again but the two fast steps I’d taken put me out of his reach. I exploded out the door and immediately started screaming Beau’s name. Pine needles and small rocks dug into the soles of my feet as I sprinted through the night. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I held my arms in front of me, hoping not to collide with a tree on my way to the meadow.

  “Sabrina!” I heard Beau’s yell right before Boone barked and collided with my shins.

  I lost my balance, but before I fell, Beau’s mammoth arms were wrapped around my shoulders.

  “It’s Dylan,” I gasped, pointing back to the outpost. I gulped a huge breath, trying to settle my heart. It was beating so hard it actually hurt inside my chest.

  “What’s Dylan?” Beau asked.

  “He came after me,” I panted.

  Beau’s frame locked tight. “Michael!” he bellowed, though his brother was already at his side shining a flashlight at our feet. “Stay with Sabrina.”

  “Calm down, Beau,” Michael said. Behind him were nineteen hotshot bodies. I couldn’t make out faces but their outlines were illuminated by the fire in the distance.

  “Stay with Sabrina,” Beau repeated through clenched teeth. His chest expanded in an angry breath before his arms around me loosened and were replaced by his brother’s.

  I pushed out of Michael’s embrace and started walking after Beau. The adrenaline was leaving my system and my teeth began to chatter loudly. “Michael, stop him.” Beau was furious and Dylan didn’t stand a chance. His self-control wouldn’t hold this time, and as much as I would like Beau to beat the crap out of that asshole, the last thing we needed was attention from the police.

  I walked faster, my bare feet limiting my speed, but Michael clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Wait.” With one swift move, Michael picked me up, looping his arm around my back and one under my knees. “Come on, guys.” He called behind him as he jogged after Beau with me in his arms. A couple of the guys ran ahead of us and latched on to Beau’s arms just as Dylan came stumbling out the door.

  “What?” Dylan slurred. “I was just gonna kiss her.”

  Beau jerked his arms free and stepped right up to Dylan. The punch he threw was so fast and hard, all I saw was a flash of skin before the resounding crack of Dylan’s jaw split the air.

  “Fuck,” Michael muttered.

  The hotshots were all hovering around Beau, though they didn’t need to worry. He was already backing off a very unconscious Dylan.

  Beau spun around and his eyes searched me out. He took two long strides and lifted me out of Michael’s arms. My head fell into his neck as he walked inside without haste. Gently, he set me down on my cot and tucked my sleeping bag around my shoulders and bare legs. My teeth were still chattering and my muscles had started to shake from the mixture of cold and fear.

  “Are you all right?” he asked

  I nodded. “He just scared me. My hip hurts a little from where he tripped me and I fell, but I’m okay.”

  Beau blew out a long breath and hung his head. “I’m so fucking sorry.” His eyes found mine. “I should have come inside with you.”

  I gave him a small smile. “It’s not your fault and I’m fine.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I recounted Dylan’s visit quickly so the men outside wouldn’t hear. The stress in Beau’s shoulders eased when he learned that nothing serious had happened.

  “We can’t make a big deal out of this, Beau,” I said quietly.

  “He should get his ass thrown in jail.”

  “I agree but then my name would be on a police report. I’d rather have Dylan walking free than the Federovs knowing I’m in Montana.” Besides, I had a feeling that Dylan’s sore jaw would be a nice reminder of his indiscretion. That was, if he even remembered what had happened.

  Beau shook his head and thought about it for a minute before sighing. “Fine.”

  “Beau?” Michael called from the doorway. “What should we do? One of the guys went to get the sat phone from the trucks. Do you want me to have Jess come up?”

  “No,” Beau and I said in unison.

  Michael gave us a sideways glance but shrugged and turned to the men crowded at his back. “No cops,” he told the crew. “Let’s wake Douchebag up and make sure he’s alive.”

  The audience at my door dispersed and the men shuffled around outside. Boone jogged in and came right to my side. Michael came in soon after and declared he was going to hang with the guys for the rest of the night and just camp outside.

  “Are you still cold?” Beau asked after Michael left with a couple extra blankets.

  I nodded and burrowed further under my sleeping bag.

  “Come here.” He held out a hand and helped me off my cot. Then with practiced ease, he set up our sleeping-bag bed on the floor. Tucked into his arms, it only took ten minutes for the chill that had seeped into my bones to finally disappear.

  The scare from earlier was still fresh but I said a silent prayer of thanks that it hadn’t turned out worse. As it was, I’d be able to brush it off after a few days.

  I sent up another grateful message to whichever angel had sent Beau Holt into my life. Because though tonight’s circumstances had been extreme, I was undeniably happy to be back in his arms.

  Early the next morning, the hotshot crew was in a subdued mood. As the first ray of sun lit the sky, they all roused from their simple beds and started packing up camp. Beau and I woke early too, anxious to see our visitors—one individual in particular—gone.

  As his crew cleaned up the fire pit, loaded bags and repacked their vehicles, Dylan sat in the passenger seat of one truck with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. One entire side of his face was red and swollen from where Beau had clobbered him. I tried but couldn’t summon a single ounce of sympathy for the asshole. Dylan had deserved that hit and the pain he’d be feeling for the next few days.

  When the crew was loaded and ready to leave, Beau, Michael and I stood in a row, saying good-bye to the team. Michael promised to visit the guys that lived in Bozeman after forest fire season was over. Beau praised each and every one of the men for the hard work they’d put forward on this fire. And I plastered on a smile, doing my best to ease the worry etched on the men’s faces as they apologized on Dylan’s behalf.

  As the crew’s trucks disappeared down the rough road, a mountain of tension went with them.

  “How did the rest of the party go?” Beau asked Michael.

  “Quiet. We pretty much all stared at the fire, then fell asleep.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I had a bad feeling about Dylan and shouldn’t have left the party alone.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Beau said. “We all thought he was passed out. I wish I’d hit that fucker harder.”

  “Down, boy,” I teased, touching his arm so his fists would unclench. He grumbled but relaxed.

  Beau was right. I didn’t need to apologize. The fault was Dylan’s, but regardless, next time I would be more careful.

  Wait, next time?

  I hoped that was just a mental blip because I didn’t think I had it in me to fight off another Anton or Dylan. As promised, Beau had brought me my bear spray but I had no desire to learn how to use it. Hell, I hadn’t even considered using the spray last night. Instead I’d run into the dark woods, barefoot.

  God, Sabrina. You’re worse than those stupid horror movie girls.

  I pressed my lips together to keep my laughter inside. “I need more coffee,” I told the guys, turning to walk inside. I didn’t want to explain a sudden fit of giggles.

  “So how are the supplies?” Beau asked, joining me in the kitchen a few minutes later.

  I took a quick inventory of the cupboards and fridge. My food tubs had been mostly cleaned out last night at the party but I still had enough to last a while.

  “I’ve got enough fo
r at least a week by myself.”

  “Okay. I need to get Michael back to town and check in at the office. I want to get my formal complaint in to Dylan’s boss as soon as possible. I really hate leaving you after all that shit last night but—”

  “Go, I’m fine.”

  “What if you have a nightmare or—”

  “Beau, I’m fine. You need to report Dylan. I don’t want something bad to happen to those guys because you were too worried to leave me here alone. I’ve got Boone and a novel to write. Really, go. I’m fine.”

  And I was. Being with him last night, sleeping safely in his arms, had done wonders to reassure me that I was safe in the outpost. I wasn’t going to let Dylan take this place from me.

  Beau dropped his head and sighed. “I’m sorry, Shortcake. If I could, I’d send Michael back and hang with you for the week.”

  “I know you would.”

  He reached out and cupped my jaw, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “We need to talk.”

  “We do but it can wait.”

  As much as I’d like to hash things out and talk about our kiss, a week to myself might be best. I needed the peace and quiet of my little forest house to reflect on just how much my heart could take.

  “Okay.” He dropped his hand. “You know I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t think you were safe.”

  I smiled. “I know, I’m safe. No one knows I’m here. I’ve got my bear spray and Boone. The outhouse is my backup.”

  He grinned. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Do you want anything in particular from town?”

  “Hmm. A pint or five of Ben & Jerry’s wouldn’t go uneaten.”

  He chuckled. “Ice cream. Anything else?”

  “Nope. Just don’t worry about me and rush. Take the time to do what you need to do.”

  “You’re the toughest woman I’ve ever met, Sabrina MacKenzie.” He grabbed the hair I’d been twirling out of my fingers. “But I think I’ll always worry about you.”

  Just like I’d always worry about him when we were apart.

  The next week dragged on until finally Friday came and Beau was back at the outpost.