by Pamela Clare
Megs’ eyes narrowed. “Has Belcourt been telling you stories?”
Uh-oh.
But Naomi covered well. “He said you’re a climbing legend.”
“That’s all he said?” Megs patted Chaska’s cheek, a knowing smile on her tanned face. “She’s quick on her feet. Finish your tour, Belcourt, and let’s get this debriefing underway.”
Chaska showed Naomi around the bays, opening Rescue One so that she could see the gear and the medical supplies. “This is the vehicle they brought out on your call. We keep both trucks loaded and operational at all times.”
“Do you ever have both out at the same time?”
“More often than you’d think.”
“If you don’t get paid for rescues, where does all this gear come from?”
“We’re a nonprofit. We get a lot of support from the climbing community, along with some corporate sponsorships and local and state grants. Let’s head to the operations room.” He opened the door for her—and found himself stuck holding it for everyone else.
“That’s mighty gentlemanly of you, Belcourt.” Hawke clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.
Chaska gave Naomi a quick tour of the ops room, with its radio set-up. The other Team members saw her, their gazes following her. Those who didn’t know her were quickly and quietly filled in by those who did. It wasn’t often that someone they rescued came for a visit.
Naomi didn’t seem to notice the attention, her gaze fixed on the big floor-to-ceiling 3D topo map of the area. “Where was I?”
Sasha bounced across the room, blond ponytail swinging, her face all smiles and sunshine, and pointed to a place on the map. “You were found right here. I’m Sasha.”
“Were you there?”
“Yep, but I wouldn’t expect you to remember any of us.”
Megs’ voice carried over the conversation, bringing it to an end. “Now that you’re all reacquainted, let’s cut the chatter and get started.”
Her words brought snickers. Team members had no need to get reacquainted. They probably spent more time with each other than they did with their families.
Megs started roll call. “Mitch Ahearn. Chaska Belcourt. Harrison Conrad … is still in Nepal.”
“How’s he doing? Have you heard from him?” someone asked.
A troubled expression came over Megs’ face. “No word.”
Naomi looked over at Chaska, curious.
He leaned down, spoke quietly. “Harrison Conrad is our lead alpinist. He was climbing Everest for the second time in May when his two climbing buddies, prominent climbers, were killed. Conrad survived. No one had heard from him since he left base camp.”
“That must have been terrifying.”
“Sasha Dillon. Eric Hawke. Dave Hatfield. Creed Herrera. Jesse Moretti. Malachi O’Brien … is working in the ER tonight.”
“He took care of me,” Naomi whispered.
“Isaac Rogers ... is on the john. Need help in there?”
Rogers’ shouted expletives made everyone laugh.
Megs finished roll call and set her clipboard aside. “This is a debriefing for last night’s rescue. We had a climber stuck on Cenotaph Spire and got him down pretty quickly. It was all routine, all textbook. I asked all primary members to be here tonight because of what happened after the rescue. Anyone care to confess?”
“We got sassy,” Nicole said.
“I’m the one who started it,” Chaska said. “I take responsibility.”
“Way to go, Belcourt,” Herrera mumbled with feigned disgust.
Ahearn took over from there, recounting what the guy had said—and what Chaska, Nicole and the others had said in response. “The guy was an asshole. I’ll give you that. But it’s not our job to put him in his place.”
This opened the door for Megs, who spent the next five minutes reminding them all of the high professional standards required to remain a primary Team member. It wasn’t enough to be an expert climber and EMT. Team members had to behave in a way that reflected well on the institution.
“Belcourt, it’s not your job to defend the women or Ahearn here, who is an old man, by the way.”
Laughter.
Ahearn shrugged.
“Turner, it’s not your job to take down the patriarchy. I know how sexist the climbing community can be. I was dealing with these testosterone-addled idiots before you were born. Be as sassy as you want to be on your own time, but when you’re wearing a Team T-shirt, keep your very clever comments to yourself.”
Megs paused, glanced around. “Am I understood?”
Heads nodded.
“Good. Let’s try not to have this discussion again this year.” Megs turned to Chaska. “We’ve got a guest tonight. Belcourt, would you do the honors?”
Chaska motioned to Naomi. “This is Naomi Archer. Some of you were part of her rescue Tuesday morning. She’s staying with Win and me for now.”
“Hey, Naomi. Happy to see you doing well.”
“Nice to see you again, Naomi.”
“Welcome to The Cave.”
Chaska could tell that Naomi felt a little overwhelmed. He tried to imagine it from her point of view—coming face to face with people who had saved her life when she’d been helpless and mostly unconscious.
She looked around the room, her voice tight as if she were fighting tears. “Thank you for all you did for me. You came out of nowhere and saved my life.”
She was answered with a chorus of you’re welcomes.
An image of Naomi lying unconscious and wounded flashed into Chaska’s mind, and for the first time it struck him how terribly close she’d come to dying alone out there—a terrible end for a woman who’d been left by a dumpster as a newborn.
You were led to her.
Maybe he had been.
Naomi spent most of Friday sleeping, so tired that she was awake only long enough to take pain pills, go to the bathroom, and eat.
“You’re healing,” Winona said when she came home for lunch to find Naomi dragging herself into the kitchen for a glass of water. “Your body is working hard. You probably overdid it yesterday.”
“I guess so.”
She woke Saturday morning rested but strangely anxious, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, worries chasing one another through her mind before she opened her eyes. Would the State of Colorado approve her application for compensation? Would they be able to fix her Honda? How long could she stay here before Chaska and Win would grow tired of her? When would they catch Clem and Arlie?
She found Chaska and Win in the kitchen. They had just returned from a run in the forest with Shota and were waiting to eat breakfast with her.
“Do you like waffles?” Win asked. “Because I love waffles.”
Chaska leaned back in his chair, a resigned look on his face. “What my sister is saying is that she wants me to make waffles.”
“I love waffles, too.”
Chaska got to his feet. “Okay, then. Waffles it is.”
Naomi found it hard to keep up with their banter, and more than once missed something one or the other of them said to her. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m distracted.”
After breakfast, Winona left to check the animals at the clinic. “It won’t take long. Then we can talk about what you’d like to do today.”
Chaska poured Naomi and himself another cup of coffee. “Come. Win refilled the hummingbird feeders this morning, and they’ve drawn a crowd.”
Chaska wasn’t kidding.
Naomi sat on the wooden swing, sipped her coffee and watched dozens of tiny, glimmering hummingbirds dart from feeder to feeder, unable to keep the smile off her face. There were so many of them that their wings made a buzzing sound like a swarm of bees. “They look like flying jewels.”
“Tanagila—that’s the Lakota word for hummingbird.”
Naomi repeated it. “I wish I’d thought to grab my camera.”
“I’ll get it for you.” Chaska disappeared inside.
Their house
was on a hillside, giving Naomi a view of Scarlet and the surrounding mountains. She inhaled the fresh air, took in the beauty of the place, some of her anxiety easing away.
Chaska returned carrying her camera bag and her tripod. “I wasn’t sure what you’d need, so I brought everything.”
“It’s beautiful out here.” Naomi took her camera out of her bag, set the shutter speed to 1/4000, and then attached her flash. “You must love sitting out here in the evening and looking out at that view.”
Chaska sat beside her. “I don’t often take the time.”
Naomi took a few photos and checked the images. Not fast enough. The wings were blurred. She adjusted her shutter speed to 1/8000 and snapped a few more shots. “Much better.”
“Show me.”
“Sure.” Naomi scrolled back through the photos, holding her camera so that Chaska could look at them.
“You’re an artist with a camera, too. These are good.”
Heat rushed into Naomi’s cheeks at the compliment. “It’s just science.”
She indulged herself then, taking photo after photo—rufous hummingbirds with their glossy orange-red throats, broad-tailed hummingbirds with their iridescent green backs, Costa’s hummingbirds with their shiny purple crowns. For a time, she forgot about her worries, her mind focused only on the birds—and the man beside her.
She could feel him there, as if his body were touching hers even though there were several inches between them. He watched her, asked questions, his attention focused entirely on her. It felt … intimate.
“Let’s see what I got.” She scrolled through her shots, Chaska leaning over so he could see, too, his arm stretched across the back of the swing behind her, his praise warming her. “I might have to start making hummingbird jewelry.”
“Win would probably buy it all.”
Naomi was pleased with the photos, especially the last few. “This is why I came to Colorado—to see wildlife, take photos, sketch.”
She told him how she’d first seen the mountains from that Denver hotel room and how she’d dreamed for five years of returning.
“I’m sorry things turned out like this.” He was quiet for a moment. “Win knows what you’re feeling. Two years ago, she was almost killed.”
Naomi gaped up at him. “What?”
She listened while Chaska told her how a bank robber had come into Winona’s clinic, aimed a firearm at her head, and forced her to give him medical care.
“He’d burned his hand on the explosive dye pack that banks put in bags during robberies, and the burn had gotten infected. She did her best to help him. He was afraid they’d give him away—Bear was there, too—and threatened to kill them both.
“He decided gunshots were too loud and grabbed a vial of ketamine—that’s an animal tranquilizer—and injected them with it. She saw how much he’d given her and knew she would die of an overdose unless help came. My sister slipped into unconsciousness expecting not to wake up again.” A muscle clenched in Chaska’s jaw, and Naomi could sense the rage he still carried inside him.
“God, Chaska, that’s awful.” She reached over, slid her hand over his.
Heat arced between them like a static shock, and Naomi might have pulled her hand away if he hadn’t taken it, entwining his fingers with hers.
“Lucky for them, Lexi walked in. She managed to get a call off to the police before the bastard took her hostage. He stole Win’s car, drove Lexi into the mountains, and tried to hide in a mine shaft. The place collapsed, and he was killed. Lexi was almost killed, too. Taylor, Hawke, and I got her out. But thanks to Lexi, the police arrived in time and took Win to the ER. She was home the next day.”
Naomi started to say that she couldn’t imagine how scary that had been, but that wasn’t true. She could imagine it—and it horrified her. “How awful for all of you. I’m so glad Winona was okay—and Bear and Lexi, too.”
“The town came together for us. I think everyone in Scarlet brought a casserole.” He chuckled, a deep, warm sound. “Our relatives drove down from Pine Ridge. Our grandfather held an inipi ceremony—a sweatlodge—to help Winona heal. Even with all of that, those first weeks afterward were tough for her. I know this is difficult for you. You don’t have to pretend with us. If you need to talk, my sister and I are here to listen. You’re not alone.”
His words, so unexpected, put a lump in Naomi’s throat, tears blurring her vision. “Thanks. I … I am trying to be strong.”
Chaska released her hand and cupped her cheeks, his thumbs wiping her tears away, dark eyes looking into hers. “Hey, you are strong.”
Then he leaned down and kissed her.
Chapter 9
Chaska hadn’t meant to kiss her. Oh, but now that his lips had touched hers, he didn’t want to stop. She tasted sweet, her body soft and pliant. Any doubts he had about her wanting this were swept away when she arched against him, her arms sliding behind his neck.
Oh, hell, yes.
Lust hit his blood in a rush, his pulse spiking, the soft press of her breasts against his ribs making him burn. He reined himself in, did his best to take it slowly, giving her time to get used to the feel and taste of him. He caught her lower lip with his lips, tugged on it, traced its fullness with his tongue.
She shivered, whispered his name. “Chaska.”
Wanting more, he slid his fingers into her hair, angled her head, and took her mouth with his. She yielded, letting him shape the kiss, her arms drawing him closer, as if she, too, couldn’t get enough.
His tongue found hers, stroked it, teased it. She responded with strokes of her own, her fingers dug into the hair at his nape, her breath mingling with his. His cock strained against his jeans, his blood thrumming hot and fast through his veins.
This wasn’t like any other first kiss he’d known. How did she do this to him?
He drew back, looked into her eyes for the answer, and saw the same confusion there, her pupils dilated, her breathing rapid.
He claimed her lips again, but this time he didn’t hold back. With just enough presence of mind to be careful of her injured shoulder, he crushed her against him, plundered her mouth, groaning when she kissed him back with the same ferocity. Her body moved against his, and he knew she wanted him, too.
He fisted a hand in her hair, forced her head back, and went for the sensitive skin of her throat, kissing her, licking her, nipping her with his teeth.
She whimpered, her pulse pounding against his lips.
“Where are you guys?”
The screen door opened, making Naomi jump.
“Oh! Oh, sorry!” Winona ducked back inside, but the moment was lost.
Damn.
Naomi tried to pull away, but they weren’t teenagers who’d been caught doing something naughty. Chaska wasn’t about to let this end on an awkward note.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He held her until the tension left her body, then pressed his forehead against hers and looked into her wide blue eyes. “Don’t think I’ve gotten enough of you, because I haven’t.”
He let her go and stood and walked with as much dignity as a man with a raging hard-on could back inside the house and into his office. He closed the door, leaned back against it, his pulse still racing.
What the hell had just happened?
Naomi took the top off her silver pot with tongs and set it down on the concrete where it could finish cooling. She picked up the earrings she was making and held them out for Winona to see. “The real aspen leaves have burned away.”
Winona looked unimpressed. “They’re still white.”
“Let’s get back inside, and I’ll show you.”
Winona took the fired PMC leaves from Naomi and held the door open for her as she made her way back inside the house and into the kitchen.
Winona hadn’t yet said anything about what she’d witnessed on the porch this morning. She didn’t seem to be upset about it either. This was a huge relief to Naomi, who had no idea what she would say should Winona confront her.<
br />
Chaska had kissed her, really truly kissed her, and it had been … perfect.
Naomi had been kissed plenty of times, but never like that. Her heart beat faster just thinking about it. The shock of his lips against hers. The hard crush of his body. The pleasure-pain of his teeth against her throat.
Don’t think I’ve gotten enough of you, because I haven’t.
Heat rushed into her face, her heart skipping a beat.
She’d never met a man like Chaska. He wasn’t just incredibly handsome and ripped. He was also smart and compassionate. He cared about his sister. He cared about the strangers whose lives he saved.
What does he see in a woman as ordinary as you?
Naomi had no idea.
She sat at the table, took the leaves from Winona, and forced her mind off Chaska and back on what she was doing. “Now I’ll make a hole for the jump rings.”
She took a pin vise out of her toolbox and made a little hole at the base of each of the three leaves—two for earrings and a spare in case one of the others broke—explaining what she was doing as she went along.
“They’re so thin. I’m amazed they don’t break.”
“Once they’ve been fired, they’re pretty tough.” She took a small needle file and smoothed the edges of each little hole. “Now for the fun part. Can I have a little bowl of sudsy water?”
Winona got the water for her and set it on the table. “Now you wash it off?”
“More or less.” Naomi reached for her brass brush and scrubbed away the remains of the clay, using the water to make sure she didn’t release dust for them to inhale.
Beneath the wire bristles, silver appeared.
A bright smile spread across Winona’s face. “It’s so pretty. It has all the little details of the aspen leaf.”
Naomi finished the first leaf and handed it to Winona, then scrubbed the other two. When that was done, she reached for a curved burnisher and rubbed it over the surface of each leaf. “This is called burnishing. See how it brings out the details?”
“Chaska, you should see this!” Winona shouted over her shoulder.
At the sound of his name, Naomi’s pulse took off again.