Her Guarded Hero
A Black Dawn Novel Book 5
Caitlyn O’Leary
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Caitlyn O’Leary
© Copyright 2018 Caitlyn O’Leary
ISBN 978-1-949849-01-1
All rights reserved.
All cover art and logo © Copyright 2018
By Passionately Kind Publishing Inc.
Cover by Lori Jackson Design
Editing by Sandy Ebel - Personal Touch Editing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
If you find any eBooks being sold or shared illegally, please contact the author at [email protected].
Dedicated to those who are serving and who have served.
1
The rifle shot was followed by a woman’s shout. Not a scream, a shout. He heard rapid horse beats. They were coming towards him. Dalton Sullivan ducked behind one of the Ponderosa pines, his gun in his hand.
The horse and rider came into view. Another rifle shot. This time there was a scream. It didn’t sound human. The horse reared up. Scratch that, the beast was literally standing up on his hind legs as if he was a person, but somehow the rider stayed on.
“Siren calm down.” He heard a woman’s calm voice.
So, it was a woman on the horse, but she couldn’t stay on for long, no matter how soothing her tone. Dalton took in the blood on the palomino’s flank. The woman must not have been hit by a bullet, because she wouldn’t still be holding onto the horse. Dalton watched as her golden hair streamed and whirled around her, glinting in the sunlight.
Amazingly, the horse came back down and shot its legs backwards and bucked again, but somehow the woman stayed planted. Once more the horse bucked and twisted, and the rider moved fluidly with the animal, like they were one perfect being.
It was when another shot rang out that she bent sideways and lost her balance. Grimly, he watched as she literally flew the twenty feet toward him. She tucked and rolled like a pro, but still the forest floor was pretty damn hard here in Lake Tahoe.
Dammit! Why wasn’t she wearing a helmet?
She swung out her arms, trying to reach for any kind of underbrush that might stop her from rolling down the hill, but there wasn’t a lot. Dalton ran and jumped over her slim body, bracing himself in front of one of the tall pine trees so that he could cushion her stop. She groaned when she rolled into his waiting arms.
She looked up at him, dazed. He saw blood dripping down her face from what looked like a laceration on her scalp. Her hair was in the way, he couldn’t see if it was deep, but it was bleeding like a son-of-a-bitch, he hated head wounds.
“Siren?” she asked softly. He ignored her. He needed to check her out and see how badly she was injured.
She grabbed at his sweater and levered herself up, her gaze was fierce. “Did you see my horse?”
Dalton admired her grit, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about her. He gently pulled her hands away.
“You need to lie back. I need to check you out,” he said gently.
“Did you see Siren? I think she was shot.”
Last Dalton had seen, the horse had run off down the steep hill towards the pristine blue water of Lake Tahoe. “Seeing how well she was running, I’d say she was fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Do you promise not to move if I go get my backpack?”
As soon as he stood up, she rolled over on her knees and started to get up.
“Dammit Woman, I said stay still.”
“I’m fine,” she gasped. Then she groaned and rolled back over. “Okay, I’m not fine. I’ll just rest here for a moment.”
Dalton dashed over to his pack and was back in under a minute. Her blonde hair was quickly turning to orange from all the blood. He had field medic training, all the SEAL’s on the Black Dawn team did. He knelt beside her and foraged through his backpack and grabbed at a clean pair of white socks. He gently placed one against her forehead.
She immediately grabbed it out of his hand and pressed it against her scalp.
“I’m fine,” she assured him.
Sure, she was.
Now that she was holding the compress, Dalton started to check the rest of her out. He was pretty sure nothing was broken after the way she had gotten onto her knees, but he wanted to be sure. “Tell me if anything hurts.”
“I’m good,” she said as his hands competently checked her out. When he touched her right hip, she sucked in a deep breath.
“How bad is it?” he asked her.
“Nothing’s broken. But I’m going to have a hell of a bruise.”
She seemed coherent, which was great. He grabbed his first aid kit out of pack and opened a cleansing wipe packet. He needed to see what he was dealing with. He wiped the gash on her forehead clean and she winced.
“You’re going to need stitches.”
“There goes my modeling career,” she quipped.
He paused, then said, “I’m sure a plastic sur-”
Her laughter cut him off. “I’m teasing. Trust me, one more scrape or scar isn’t going to bother me. Kind of adds a little bit of character.”
Dalton eyed her with a little more interest as he started to tear open the butterfly bandage packaging, so he could apply them.
“I’m glad you came prepared. Were you a Boy Scout?”
“Eagle Scout,” he answered as he applied three of the bandages to the cut. “There, that should do it.” It was the damn bruise he was worried about. There was a lot of swelling.
Dalton really wanted to go after the shooter, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving a wounded woman in the middle of the forest.
“What’s your name?”
“Aurora Chance? What’s yours?” Good, she was lucid.
“What day is it?” he asked.
“You haven’t answered my question yet,” she protested.
“Dalton Sullivan. Now what day is it?”
“Monday. I need to go get my horse, can you help me?”
Good God, she was serious. She looked like a ghost, her two large brown eyes and purpling bruise were the only spots of color on her face. “No, we’re not going after your horse.”
Aurora clutched at the arm of his sweater. “She’s hurt. I know one of those bullets hit her.”
“You’re damn lucky one of them didn’t hit you,” he bit out.
“That’s a lot of gear for hiking,” she said as she pointed to his backpack.
“Do you have any ide
a who was shooting at you?”
Her hand clenched tighter, biting through to his forearm. “It must have been one of the damned poachers. They’ve been running rampant around here for months.”
“There is no way that one of your ‘damned poachers’ would have taken three shots at a horse and rider. Maybe one stray shot I’ll grant you. Not three. Someone was deliberately shooting at you.”
Those brown eyes got wider, but he didn’t see any fear, instead he saw anger. “Somebody shot at my horse? At Siren?”
“And you, let’s not forget you.”
“But it’s Siren whose wounded. Seriously, we need to round her up.” Aurora pushed up from the ground on unsteady legs and looked around. Dalton stood with her so that he could catch her if she fell, and it looked like she might.
“You’re in no shape to go after your horse, and right now I want to get us a little more cover. These two little trees don’t make me feel safe enough.”
She turned around on wobbly legs, “Okay, where to?”
“You’re coming with me,” Dalton bent and picked her up, then bent again and snagged up his backpack.
“I can walk,” she protested.
“Sure, you can, Sunshine. He strode over to seven trees that grew close together. He gently lowered her behind four of the narrow tree trunks. “Stay put. I’m going to check things out.”
“Siren?” she asked hopefully.
“I’m going to look for the shooters. We’re not safe, until we make sure they’re long gone.”
He watched as she bit her lip. She finally nodded her head in acceptance.
“Besides being an Eagle Scout, who are you?” she asked when she saw the gun that he pulled out of one of the compartments of his backpack.
“I’m one of the good guys. Will you promise me to stay put?”
She worried her bottom lip again.
Goddammit, she was going to go after the horse. He just knew she was.
“Listen Aurora, Siren is in as much danger as you are from the shooter. You keep your ass planted.” He made it a command. He was good at commands.
“But-”
“We’ll argue when I come back, okay? I need to go now. Promise me you’ll stay, okay?”
She nodded, then winced.
“Don’t move your head, just rest against this tree. Can you do that?”
“I don’t think I’ll have a choice,” she admitted ruefully. He pulled out a clean t-shirt from his pack and put it behind her head. “Hopefully that’s soft enough for you.” She hummed her appreciation as she leaned back.
“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” he promised.
“S’okay.”
He took few moments to pull out some other things from his pack.
“Here’s Gatorade, Trail Mix and a couple of protein bars. I want you to finish the Gatorade while I’m gone.” He gently pulled her away from the tree and helped her into a rain jacket that he had in his backpack. He zipped it up to her chin, then he rolled up the sleeves.
“That should keep out the chill.”
Then he took off on a silent run.
From half-mast eyes, Aurora watched as her savior morphed into a predator and then disappeared. She shuddered. Was it pain? Shock? Or was she replaying the feel of his hands on her body? She was twenty-six years old, and in her entire life, she had never had such a strong reaction to a man. She took a deep breath, and instead of smelling the fresh mountain air and pine trees, she took in the lingering masculine scent of Dalton Sullivan. She had to stop herself from sighing in pleasure.
Obviously, she’d hit her head too hard.
“It’s the circumstances. Get over yourself.”
She trembled again. Even though she was thinking of his dark Irish good looks, she knew that her shivering was due to cold. His rain jacket was keeping out the wind, but she needed more heat.
With gloved fingers she plucked at the fastenings on the back of his backpack that where she saw the rolled-up blanket. It didn’t work. She yanked off the gloves using her teeth, even then it took her three times as long as it should have to undo it because her fingers were so cold. Aurora shoved herself up against the tree trunk so that she was sitting up.
“Halleluiah.” She shook out the silver survival blanket and tucked it around her lower legs, combining that with Dalton’s jacket, she basked in warmth. That answered that question, it had been the cold, not any kind of weird reaction to the man.
Still, as she nestled into the blanket, and let her body relax against the tree, she kept thinking about her close call, and Dalton’s protectiveness. He hadn’t been put off by her independence. Not once had he backed down. She smiled as she thought about it. He was just like all the other bull-headed men in her family, not that wimp she’d dated.
But Dalton Sullivan sure as hell didn’t feel like family. Nope, as a matter of fact, he seemed larger than life.
“He’s a tourist.”
Shit, now she was talking to herself, and she was supposed to stay quiet and hidden. Get it together girl. Just because you thought all your hormones had taken an Alaskan cruise five years ago, and now they decided to come back and unpack their bags in the middle of a shoot-out, doesn’t mean that you should go all psycho-girl.
Now, rest your head back and relax. Be the logical and practical Aurora we all know and love.
What had he been doing with a gun in the woods? And a wicked looking gun at that. He sure as hell wasn’t a hunter. She was pretty sure that was a Sig Sauer, based on what she’d seen in her granddad’s gun magazines. He’d said he was one of the good guys, and he sure knew first aid. She really couldn’t imagine Eagle Scout boy, with his first aid kit and clean socks being some kind of criminal, but who goes around camping in the woods with a military pistol?
She was a millimeter away from slapping her forehead before stopping herself. God, she was so stupid.
“He’s a soldier! You’re dealing with a soldier!”
Crap, she was talking loud again.
Get it together girlfriend. Are you hearing me? No hormones. No hitting your injured head. No yelling out loud when there are shooters in the woods. You’re better than this.
Sure, she was.
Come on, what would Grandma Mae do?
God, she missed her grandmother, but the thought of her made her smile. Little Miss Liberal Hippie.
Time to meditate. That’s what her grandmother would tell her to do.
She leaned back against the clean shirt. Did she smell Dalton?
Stop it, that’s Febreze!
She took another deep breath. Ponderosa Pine trees. Mountain air.
Another deep breath.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Better. She snuggled deeper against the t-shirt and smoothed the survival blanket over her legs. Now Aurora closed her eyes and thought of the magic of the forest that surrounded her. She let herself float upwards, she flew miles toward her family’s ranch. Valhalla. She pictured the beauty of the ranch with the horses running in the tall grass and remembered how her granddad used to ride with such strength atop his stallion.
She whispered her mantra.
“Beauty. Strength. Magic.”
There had been two sets of hoofprints near the four brass shell casings. Dalton crouched down to get a better look. They were boat tail hollow points. Shit, they could have come from any jackass hunter. But he’d be damned, before he would believe that Aurora and her horse hadn’t been targeted. Sure, the first shot could have been a mistake, if you wanted to believe in the tooth fairy, but there wasn’t a chance in hell the second and third ones had been.
He got up from his crouch, eying the casings one last time. He was careful not to touch the brass, or step on the imprints left by the horses. He stood up and really looked around the site. This was a crime scene, and even with a forensics team, Dalton didn’t think the sheriff’s department would have much to work with, but that couldn’t be his problem. R
ight now, Aurora was his first priority. He pulled out his cell phone but didn’t get a signal. Dammit, it was about damn time to invest in a satellite phone. He missed those when he wasn’t working on a mission. Disgusted he pocketed his phone, realizing he needed to get closer to the road, and started to head back to Aurora.
It took half the time to get back to her, and when he did, he didn’t like what he saw. She was out like a light. He squatted in front of her and touched her shoulder, she didn’t move.
“Aurora?” he whispered. She didn’t move.
“Aurora?” he spoke louder.
“Hmmm?” Her eyelids fluttered open. She looked up at him, her expression dazed. “You’re back. Did you find Siren?”
Dalton smiled. “I haven’t searched for her yet. I was looking for the people who shot at you.”
“Are you a super soldier, like Rambo?”
Dalton laughed. “No. Why did you ask that?”
“You just disappeared into the forest like smoke. I figured you were a super soldier or an Avenger. The soldier seemed more likely.”
Her voice was beginning to fade and her eyes drifted closed again.
“Sunshine, stick with me.”
“Hmmm?” She opened her eyes again and shook her head then sat up straighter. She grabbed at the t-shirt as it slipped down her back. “Sorry about that. I’m here. I won’t go to sleep on you, again.”
Dalton brushed the hair back from her face and looked at the butterfly bandages. There was some leakage, but not too much, but there was a hell of a bump forming on her forehead.
“Aurora, can you look me in the eye?”
“Checking for a concussion?” she asked with a smile.
“You got it in one.” He nodded.
“I think I’m good. This doesn’t feel like one.”
Her Guarded Hero Page 1