Page 37 of Keeper of Talon Mountain
"Don't." She doesn't look up from counting bandages. "Don't ask me to leave. Don't suggest I'd be safer somewhere else. And definitely don't tell me this isn't my fight."
"It's not."
Now she does look up, green eyes flashing. "You showed up half-dead in my blizzard. I pulled you inside, patched you up, gave you a place to heal. That made it my fight, Gabe. The moment I chose you over the safe option of calling it in."
"Mara...”
"Besides." Her voice softens, just a fraction. "Where would I go? This lodge, this mountain—it's the only home I've had in three years. I'm not letting Crane or anyone else take that from me."
The words hit harder than they should.Home. Such a simple concept, yet it's been sliding through my fingers since the moment I woke up in Mara’s house with gaps where my life should be.
"Okay." I cross the room, pull her close. Her hands fist in my shirt.
"I'm not going anywhere," she says against my chest.
"Good."
Fifty-eight hours.
The satellite phone rings at 11:47 PM. Zeke's voice is low, controlled. "Got activity on the fire road, two miles out. Vehicle went dark—no headlights. Could be your people or could be trouble."
"How long until you know?"
"Giving them ten minutes to make contact on the secure channel. If they don't..." He doesn't finish the sentence.
Eight minutes later, my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number:
Four coming in on foot from the northwest. Don't shoot. -S
I show Mara. She immediately moves to the window, peers into the darkness. "I don't see anything."
"You won't. Not if they're any good."
We kill the interior lights. Wait in the darkness, every sense straining. Crane's watchers are out there somewhere, which means Sarah and her team are threading a needle—close enough to reach us, invisible enough to avoid detection.
I watch as four shadows materialize from the tree line. They move like smoke, fluid and silent, each wearing what looks like some kind of thermal dampening blanket over their gear—the kind that scatters heat signatures into background noise.
A soft knock. Three taps, pause, two taps.
Sarah's face is barely visible under a dark knit cap as I open the door.
"Inside," she breathes. "Now."
They slip through the door. I close it behind them, and only then does Sarah lower her pack and pull back her hood. She shrugs off the blanket, her features sharp with focus and something deeper—recognition tinged with disbelief.
Our eyes meet across the darkened room.
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to just the two of us. Then she's moving, closing the distance in long strides, and suddenly we're face to face. She stops an arm's length away, her breath fogging in the cold air.
"Gabe." My name breaks on her lips, half-sob, half-laugh. "You stupid, brilliant bastard."
"Sarah." Her name feels right, even if I can't remember why. "I...”
"Don't." She swipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, and I realize she's crying. "Don't apologize. Don't explain. Just...” She closes the remaining distance and pulls me into a fierce hug. "God, I thought you were dead."
Over her shoulder, Mara watches from the doorway, her expression unreadable. I catch her eye, and she gives me a small nod.It's okay. I understand.
Sarah pulls back, professional mask sliding back into place as she turns to her team. "This is Rhett, Colton, and Alex. My team. Best operators I've ever worked with."
