The Loner. Lindsay McKenna
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This blew his mind. Women did not know how to track.
“Yes.” Shelby kind of resented his genuine surprise. He wasn’t the only one with skills. Then the sudden relaxation came to his face. Interest glimmered in those gold-brown eyes of his. She felt a shiver of yearning move through her as the look he gave her was primal, sexual. What was happening here? Stunned by her own reaction toward this snarly ex-SEAL, Shelby said, “Let’s stick to the facts, Mr. Carson.”
Dakota opened his mouth and then closed it. He regarded her with a little more deference. “The only thing women can track is a sale price of clothing at a department store.”
Shelby couldn’t contain her laughter. “What are you? A Neanderthal? I can track as well as any man. Better.”
“Who are you?”
Her entire body reacted to his growling question. Now the wolf was circling the prey—her. “We don’t have time for that, Mr. Carson. I need to get the location of where you shot the bear in order to notify the Tetons Forest supervisor. They’ll want to find the bear, get it out of there and bring it back to their headquarters for autopsy.”
All business. Still, Dakota’s mind reeled over the fact that she was a tracker, of all things. And he knew this area like the back of his hand. It was serious, rugged, backcountry mountainous area. Even a skilled hunter could get lost and disoriented. And she hadn’t. As he gazed up into her sparkling blue eyes, he saw banked humor in them. He gave her the directions to the meadow where he had killed the bear.
“Great, thanks,” Shelby said. She walked away, pressed the button on the radio on her left epaulet.
Watching her, Dakota liked what he saw. She was definitely a throwback to the Victorian age with the proverbial hourglass figure. Her breasts were hidden by the Kevlar vest, but he could tell they were full. Her hips were flared and she had long, long legs. Damn, she was a good-looking woman. He warned himself that she was in a relationship, lay back and closed his eyes. He had to get out of this place. There was no friggin’ way he was staying overnight.
“How are you feeling?” Shelby asked when she came back over to his gurney. “Better?”
Opening his eyes, he said, “Yeah. Better.”
“We have two forest rangers going out to find your bear.”
“Am I going to be charged?”
“I doubt it. I’ll talk to Charley over at Tetons HQ tomorrow. It sounds like self-defense to me.”
His mouth curled into a slight grin. “Oh, it was, Deputy. It was. You should have been there.”
“No, thanks. I’ve had enough grizzly interruptus too many times when I’m tracking. I like to stay away from them. They’re big and they’re fast.”
He held up his bandaged arm. “Tell me about it.”
She liked his black humor. “You were lucky.”
“No luck at all. I had the situation under control.” Well, almost. If not for Storm charging the grizzly and biting the bear’s nose, he wouldn’t have gotten the second shots to kill the charging beast.
“Yeah, right.” Her mouth twitched. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t.”
Shelby frowned. “You have to stay here for the night, Mr. Carson. Or go home with me.”
He sat up, his head clear. The nausea was ebbing. “Bull. I’m leaving....” He threw off the blankets and gave her a look that warned her not to stop him.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHELBY WATCHED DAKOTA Carson get up, unsteadily at first. His calves were knotted, which told her what good a shape he was in. He calmly removed the IV because he knew how to do it and dropped the needle and tube back on the gurney.
“Your clothes are kept in that locker room,” she said, pointing to a door on the left. “Probably got your last name on one of the lockers so you can find them.”
He stopped and studied her. Something about Shelby intrigued him. “You’re smart.”
“I’m field smart, Mr. Carson.”
His mouth twitched. Yeah, she was damned smart for not getting in his way. “If you were a man, you’d rear up on your balls and try to stop me.”
“I have a titanium set, but I choose my battles very carefully.”
His mouth drew into a sour smile. “You ever been in the military?”
“No.”
“Shoulda been.” He turned and walked slowly but surely toward the door.
Shelby wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult. She waited until he was gone and called Jordana McPherson. By the time she arrived, looking upset, Dakota Carson was coming out the door, fully clothed. When he saw Jordana, he glanced over at Shelby.
“I called her,” Shelby said.
“Yeah, I remember. You pick your battles.”
Smiling, Shelby nodded.
“Dakota?” Jordana called.
“No sense in trying to talk me out of leaving this place, Doc. You know I can’t handle closed-in spaces. I’ll just be on my way.”
Jordana shoved her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat, giving him a pleading look. “There’s a high probability of infection after a bite like this, Dakota. I’ve written you a prescription for antibiotics, but I’m worried. Usually, if there is infection, it’s going to hit you in the first twenty-four hours after the operation. That’s why I wanted you to stay overnight for observation. If you could agree to stay at Shelby’s, her house is only a block from this hospital, I wouldn’t worry so much. Please...”
Halting, Dakota studied the deputy. Oh, he’d like to go home with her, all right. For all the wrong damn reasons. “No.”
Jordana reached out, her fingers wrapping around his right arm. “Dakota, you have to! That’s a bad wound. You’re a combat medic and you know the drill. If you could just stay overnight and let me give you an antibiotic IV drip? One night, and drop by and see me tomorrow morning to check it. I’ll feel better.”
“Sorry, Doc, but I gotta go....” He shook off her hand. Glancing at the deputy, he growled, “Now?” Dakota expected the deputy to try to stop him.
Shelby stepped aside. “Timing’s everything.”
Walking slowly by her, Dakota got his bearings and moved toward the elevator. Neither woman made an attempt to stop him.
The elevator doors whooshed closed. Jordana gave Shelby a desperate look. “He shouldn’t leave.”
“I know,” she muttered. “Give me his prescription and I’ll get it filled and make sure he has it before he drives off. I’ll follow him at a safe distance.”
“Can’t you talk some sense into him?” Jordana handed her the prescription.
With a sour laugh, Shelby said, “He calls me Deputy Barbie Doll. Do you really think I have any sway over him?”
“Hardly.” Scratching her head, Jordana groused, “Unbelievable.”
“Is that SEAL behavior?” Shelby asked, walking with her to the elevator.
“No. It’s his PTSD, Shelby. He’s got a very bad case of it. Closed-in places throw him into deep anxiety. He prowls around like a caged lion if he can’t escape.” Jordana added, “I feel so bad for him. He’s a decorated vet, with the silver star and two purple hearts. But he just won’t come in for weekly therapy.”
The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. “I’ll see what I can do,” Shelby said. “But