Page 4 of Faron
My jaw opened. Nothing came out.
“That’s my dog,” I finally managed. “I thought he was dead.”
She tilted her head. “Yeah, he almost was. We found him lying in the dirt, barely breathing. Took some work to keep him alive.”
I blinked. “He’s still my dog.”
“Not tonight, Cherokee. Tonight, he’s mine. And so are you idiots if you keep bleeding all over my canyon trail.”
She glanced at Chuck, then Joel, then back at me.
“I’ve got water and a cave that doesn’t ask questions. Are you coming?”
I nodded before I could think.
We followed her up the slope, Bear trotting beside her like he’d never left. The mountain swallowed us in shadow, cool and quiet.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
She didn’t slow. “I found some teenagers lost in the canyons. Helped them find their way back. Planned to leave after. But now... I think I’m being hunted.”
“You need to go. Fast.”
“I will. I’ve got a few things to finish first.”
Chuck wheezed behind me. “You should have married her, Lightfoot. Didn’t you have a thing for medic Captain Blue Davis?”
I elbowed him in the ribs—gently. Joel grunted as he limped behind. Bear wagged his tail like he knew something we didn’t.
I didn’t know it then. Not really. But I’d just walked back into the life of the only woman who’d ever scare the hell out of me—
—and make me want her anyway.
6
Faron
Blue’s cave smelled of sage, wood smoke, and an absurd amount of cumin. It shouldn’t have felt safe, but somehow it did—like being swallowed up by the earth and held tight by something ancient.
She barked orders like a medic from my worst nightmares—part mother, part executioner. There was no tenderness in her movements, but there was purpose. Precision. A war-taught ruthlessness that said she’d seen worse and lived to curse about it.
Chuck went first. She poured my found whiskey directly into the wound in his side while he howled like a demon. He cursed in three languages, maybe four. Blue didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.
Then she turned to Joel, resetting his dislocated knee like she was folding laundry. He bit down on a stick and promised to haunt me in the afterlife.
I sat in the shadows, ribs screaming with every breath, one hand stroking Bear’s torn ear while I pretended I wasn’t falling apart. I should’ve been sleeping. God knew I needed it. But I couldn’t stop watching her.
The way she moved—efficient, unforgiving, like someone who’d long ago given up the luxury of gentleness. But there was something under it. Something soft buried so deep she’d rather bleed than show it.
Then those storm-grey eyes landed on me.
“Your turn, Faron.”
“I’m fine.”
She snorted. “Your ribs look like a roadmap of stupid decisions. Shirt off. Now.”
Even Bear betrayed me, nuzzling my side and exposing the darkest bruise I’d been ignoring. Blue knelt between my knees, ripped my shirt open without hesitation. Like I belonged to her. Like she didn’t have time to ask permission.
