Surviving Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  “I was always kind of an odd duck,” she confessed, then smiled when she noted his raised eyebrows at her comment. “I never quite seemed to know which group I fit into. I liked to wear pretty clothes and makeup, but I never fit in with the sorority types. I liked to read, but no one I knew liked the same kinds of books. And professionally…well, about the only conversations I have are with other people who are interested in microbiology, specifically staph infections. That’s a real conversation killer out on dates!”

  He watched her shoulder shrug as she readjusted her glasses. Her smile was genuine, if a little sad, but surprisingly it was endearing. Touched, he watched the shadows of the firelight dance on her face and noticed how beautiful she was. Certainly not the in-your-face beauty that assumed every man would be panting after her, nor the comfortable-in-the wild kind of beauty that he usually tapped while breaking up the solitary trips he enjoyed. No, Kendall’s beauty was singularly her own, made more apparent by her self-deprecating smile.

  “So, tell me about the books you like to read?” he asked, wanting to keep her talking. As soon as he said the words, he fought a grimace at the odds that the professional books she probably read…and wrote…would be to his taste. Her immediate blush caught his interest. Tilting his head to the side, he waited on her answer.

  “Well…I…uh…like to read for pleasure…uh…to escape.”

  The silence grew while he waited, a grin now spreading across his face. “Are you telling me you read romance? Like Fifty Shades?”

  “No! Well, not exactly,” she corrected, her eyes now focused on the fire and not his face.

  “So…?” he prompted.

  “Okay,” she huffed, “I like to read historical romance…you know, like pirates, or Vikings, or Highlanders in kilts…books like that.” She spared a glance up to his face, her blush still pronounced on her cheeks, but was pleased to see he was not laughing at her. “I know it sounds stupid…but some people have the dumbest idea about romance novels.”

  “Hey, I have no preconceived notions,” he protested, throwing his hands up while grinning. “I find it interesting that you like something so different from what you seem.” Leaning back against the duffle bag, he stretched his long legs out, reclining with his hands behind his head. “Okay, so tell me about the pirates.”

  Laughing, Kendall shook her head. “They’re just…um…hot guys coming to the rescue of the damsel in distress,” she said. Her brow crinkled as she shrugged. “I know that sounds terribly un-feminist of me but, honestly, most of the books nowadays, the heroines are pretty kick-butt and sometimes save the hero. Though, to be truthful, often the girl does need to be rescued too.”

  “Kind of like us?” he joked, throwing a wink her way.

  She stilled for a moment before nodding, “Yes, I guess you could say that. I was definitely a damsel in distress and, well, you’ve rescued me.”

  “You’re no damsel in distress,” he protested, rolling to the side with his head in his hand, observing her carefully. “You’re a lot stronger than many people would be in this situation.”

  Sniffling from the cold, she shifted her gaze around the makeshift tent, listening to the wind howl outside. “This is so surreal, you know?” she said softly. “Almost like it is something from a book that was suddenly thrust upon us.”

  Nodding, he agreed. Surreal? Yeah, it is. Realizing he never spent much time talking to the women he shared a tent with, he was surprised how much he enjoyed hearing her talk. And gaining the rare giggle from her was a bonus. Blinking, he forced his thoughts to something less likely to get his cock stirring. Sitting up, he reached into the bag and said, “Let’s eat and then we can make our trips outside for the necessities in plenty of time to get back before it gets too dark and we turn in for the night.”

  *

  The low building sat on a lonely strip of road, mountains rising in the distance. Bart, Blaise, and Jude stepped inside Cutter’s Bar in Cut Bank, Montana, having flown in an hour before. Their eyes acclimated quickly to the dim interior as the sound of country music played in the background. The bartender looked up, his face impassive at the newcomers.

  “Three beers,” Bart called out and, as the bartender nodded, he looked toward the back where a large man was sitting alone in a corner booth. With a head jerk indicating the beers could be delivered to that table, he and the others stalked over.

  The lone man lifted his gaze, eyes crinkling as he smiled in recognition. Standing he bypassed Bart’s extended hand, grabbing him in a bear hug instead. Bart was a big man, but as Jude observed, the other man met Bart in stature.

  “Holy fuck, Bart,” the man greeted. “How the hell did you get uglier?”

  Bart laughed, knowing his womanizing reputation from years ago had earned him the jab. “Ask my wife—she thinks I’m just as handsome as ever.”

  “Wife? You? Well, who’dve ever thought you wouldda settled.” The man stood back and peered closely at Bart and nodded. “But I can see it…she must be something special.”

  “That she is,” Bart agreed. “Preacher, I’d like you to meet Jude Stetson. Former SEAL and now a co-worker for the Saints. He’s also married to my cousin. And this is another co-worker, Blaise Hansen, former medic and veterinarian.” Turning to the guys, he added, “And this is Logan Bishop. My former Lt. Commander. We know him as Preacher.”

  Logan shook hands, then invited them to sit down. “I got your message and have already looked into what we need.” His dark brown eyes pinned Bart as he warned, “But they just got hit with a major blizzard and it’ll be at least another day before we can get a bird to them.”

  Bart grimaced, but nodded, sharing a glance with Jude and Blaise whose expressions matched his own. “We understand. We just want to have it planned so we can lift off at the first moment possible.”

  “If your co-worker is as good as you say he is, then he’ll make sure the woman is taken care of until we can get in. Have your tech person keep in contact in case they move somewhere else and I’ll be able to get to them. If there’s no place to land, we’ll send the harness down.” Logan saw the tight jaw of his former Lieutenant and said, “You know the first rule of the mission: don’t let it get personal.”

  “I know,” Bart growled, “but things are different now on the outside. The men I work for are friends…their women are my friends…and my wife is my world.”

  Jude nodded in agreement, catching the flash of surprise rush through Logan’s eyes at Bart’s words. The realization that this man had most likely never been in love hit him. And living in a town of only two thousand people in the northern part of Montana probably made it easier to be a loner. Whatever…as long as he can get us to Marc and the doctor, that’s all that matters.

  “I’ve got a place outside of town, where I keep my helicopter. It’s a small house, but it’s got three bedrooms. God knows, I only take up one and don’t have many visitors out here, so you’re welcome to crash with me.”

  “Thanks,” Bart replied. “It’ll make it easier to plan.” He looked up as a few men strolled into the bar, greeting the bartender. “Town’s kind of quiet.”

  “They’re good people around here. They’d help someone if they needed it. But for the most part, people stay out of my business and I stay out of theirs,” Logan said. “I run my air tours and pretty much keep to myself.”

  Jude wanted to ask if Logan found that life boring after commanding a SEALs team, but kept quiet. Too many good men came back from tours with more scars on the inside than the outside. Whatever Logan’s reasons were, they were his own.

  Finishing their beers, the four men tossed money on the table and left the bar. Climbing into their SUV, Bart, Blaise, and Jude followed Logan’s pick-up truck as it churned up the road leading out of town.

  A few miles later, they turned onto a long gravel road, a metal hangar and low-slung ranch house in the distance. The snow covered mountains rose majestically in the background, the green forest at the base.

&n
bsp; “God’s country, for sure,” Jude said, surveying the vista.

  “Hell, I was just thinking I’d like to bring Faith out here for a visit. She’s never traveled much and I think she’d love it.”

  “We passed a dude ranch on our way to the bar,” Jude said, grinning. “We could bring our wives out here and have a vacation.”

  Nodding, Bart was about to comment when they stopped outside Logan’s home. “Not much to look at on the outside, is it?” he asked.

  “Hell, it’s got to be better than the hotel I saw in town,” Blaise added.

  Climbing out, they grabbed their bags and headed inside. The interior was old, but clean and neat. Logan showed them to their rooms and then the men met back in the kitchen where Logan pulled out some steaks and potatoes.

  An hour later, after stuffing themselves with the hearty fare, Bart leaned back patting his stomach. “God, that was a good steak.”

  Laughing, Logan nodded. “Montana’s got good meat,” he said proudly. He tossed the plates into the sink, rinsing them quickly before grabbing a six-pack of beer from the refrigerator. Settling in the den, they pulled out maps and began to plan. With Luke on the phone, Bart pinpointed Marc’s location, then listened as Logan worked out their mission.

  “Sure as hell glad you’re here,” Bart said, as they finished for the night.

  “No problem,” Logan agreed. “It’s good to be doing something besides flying tourists over the mountains.”

  Later that night, Logan rose from his bed, satisfied the others were fast asleep. Slipping through the house, he opened the door leading from the kitchen to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, he bypassed the open area to the right and stood at the wall on the left. With a few clicks to the hidden keypad, the wall slid back and he entered. Moving to his bank of computers, he double checked the weather conditions for their mission and rubbed his chin. Behind-the-scenes mission planning had always been his forte. Smiling, he got to work.

  Chapter 11

  “What the hell is going on?” Marc growled, the wind slapping little ice crystals against his face.

  “Nick’s run into a roadblock with the Yukon police who aren’t talking to the contacts we had with the Canadian government. We’re…getting a helicopter pilot…Bart…former SEALs and Jude’s with him.”

  “Luke, it’s already snowing here! White-out conditions. I can hardly understand you.” He turned to see Kendall hunkered down in the makeshift shelter he made at the edge of the trees and cursed. “Goddamnit, if it was just me, it’d be no problem, but she’s not used to this.”

  “Marc…team ready by tomorrow morning. Nick and Monty…Alaska to see what’s going on…Jack and Patrick are in Louisiana. Bart…tomorrow…get a bird up and out…get you.”

  Sighing, Marc agreed. “I think that was a good plan—what I heard of it. We’re gonna be safe and I’ve got a fire going so she’ll be warm. We’ve got some food, so we’ll be good if the storm lasts a day or so.”

  Disconnecting, hoping Luke got most of that, he turned and hurried through the snow to the shelter they made. “Kendall?” he called out as he bent to push his way into the tent. “I’ve just talked to my contact and they’re working on a plan to get us out, but we’ll definitely be here through tomorrow.” He watched her carefully, but she just nodded, her expression full of trust. “We’ll be fine, I promise,” and with every part of his being, he meant those words.

  “I was wondering about wild animals,” she said, hating to admit her fears. “Do you think we’ll be bothered?”

  “Well, there’re mountain goats, bison, sheep, moose, deer, elk, foxes—”

  “Oh, no,” she protested. “I’m talking about ones that might like to eat us!”

  Marc had wanted to keep her mind off the dangers, but it seemed she was determined to ferret out the truth. Leaning forward, he nodded. “Okay, you got me.” Heaving a sigh, he admitted, “There are wolves and bears.”

  “Grizzlies?” she asked, her mouth hanging open.

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “Although they should be hibernating this time of year, so we shouldn’t be bothered. But that’s why the food we have is in a metal box that is made to keep scents from getting out, but is also hung in a tree away from us.”

  “Anything else I should be aware of?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as she viewed him from across the fire.

  “Lynx, cougars, coyotes, wolverines, and timber wolves, but none of them should be a problem and, remember, I have two weapons and plenty of ammunition.”

  “But I don’t know how to shoot a gun,” she confessed. “And what if you’re not around—”

  “I will be. I promise,” he vowed, holding her gaze, willing her to lean on his strength. Needing her to in away he didn’t quite understand.

  “I believe you, Marc,” she said, a slight smile curving her lips, her hands still out toward the small fire as she wiggled her fingers toward the flames.

  He smiled in return, holding his hands out to the flames as well. Unable to help himself, he reached over and took her fingers, rubbing them briskly. The action was meant to keep the blood flowing, but the sparks he felt jolting through his body had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the sweet body across from him. His dick twitched at the thought of what her sweet lips could do. His gaze jumped to hers, seeing her pupils dilate in her wide eyes at their touch. Jerking his hands back, he cleared his throat, searching for something to say to cover his discomfort. Jesus, get a grip!

  “Uh…I’m going to head out to take care of business. I’ll be back in about ten minutes. I’ll pick up some more fire sticks while I’m out.” Gaining her nod, he shrugged into his coat and zipped it up as he opened the flap and exited the shelter in haste, leaving her inside.

  Stalking away through the woods, facing the ground to make sure where his feet were landing in the soft snow, he tried to let the cold air clear his mind and calm his erection. Disgusted with himself for his lack of professionalism, he threw his head back and yelled his frustration into the storm.

  *

  Kendall, surprised at his abrupt dismissal, clenched her fingers, already chilled now that he was no longer holding them. She unfolded her cramped legs and stretched them out toward the fire. Her toes were achy with cold and she debated taking off her boots to stick her sock-covered feet closer to the flames.

  Deciding to wait until Marc came back and she had a chance to step outside one more time, she crawled on her knees, moving a few things around to make the most of their space. Tucking her things on the far side, she lay the sleeping bag on the blanket, folding the top back as though they were in a fine hotel. Rolling her eyes at her unnecessary touches, she pushed his duffle bag to the back, making sure all flammable items were away from the small fire.

  Finishing that, she looked at her watch, noting that fifteen minutes had passed. Biting her lip, she wondered if he were having problems finding some dry sticks. She almost decided to go outside, but the thought of stumbling upon him as he was relieving himself immediately sent that notion right out of her head. I’m sure Mr. Outdoors can handle himself!

  Setting a few more small sticks onto the fire, she watched it carefully, glad for the hot stones that circled the pit. Minutes ticked by and he still didn’t return. Fidgeting, she continued to stare at her watch, twenty minutes now having passed. Okay, if he doesn’t come back in five more minutes, I’ll go out and look for him. Jolting, she suddenly wondered if he had run into the people that were after them. Surely not. If his people can’t get through the storm to rescue us, then there’s no way they can…can they?

  Five more minutes ticked by and Kendall could not wait any longer. She zipped her coat and pulled her gloves on. Tucking her hair up into her knit cap, she then wrapped her scarf around her neck. Opening the flap of the tent, she stared at the wind-whipped snow blowing outside and wondered if leaving the safety of the campsite was a good idea. I won’t go far, she determined.

  As soon as she got
outside, she was grateful the trees helped to keep the snow from piling too high, but noted the woods still all looked the same, blanketed in snow. Stepping out, she realized at least four inches of snow had fallen, but the drifts were much higher. Her glasses immediately became useless as the snow coated them in water droplets. Grumbling, she crawled back inside the tent and dug around in her purse. Pulling off her gloves, she found her contacts case and put them in. Blinking several times as her eyes watered and burned, she was reminded why she preferred the simplicity of glasses.

  Crawling back outside she stood, ready to begin her search. Damn, everything looks the same! Taking off her red scarf, she tied it to the tree nearest their shelter, hoping it would serve as a homing beacon if needed.

  Looking at the ground, she could still see the imprints of his boot steps in the snow and began to follow. Head down, both to track Marc’s steps and to keep the snow and ice from pelting her face, she continued, knowing she would be able to find her way back by following her own footsteps. The farther she walked, the more irritated she became. He was only going to take care of business—how far did he have to wander? Geez, it’s not like I was going to leave the tent to go watch him take a piss! Snow and ice stung her face and, without her scarf, she felt the biting, frozen chips hitting her neck and dropping down inside her coat. Frustration bolted through her as she kicked at the snow on the ground.

  Suddenly her right foot slipped as the ground gave away underneath her. Grabbing a low hanging limb from a nearby tree, she somehow managed to keep from falling. Pulling herself back to safety, she looked over the edge of a ditch leading about five feet down to a frozen creek, the snow covered leaves hiding the edge from her view. Heart pounding, she clung to the tree, grateful not to have tumbled down the incline. Damnit! I should have been watching what I was doing!

  Gathering her wits, she looked down at what appeared to be a large trench dug out of the snow leading toward the creek at the bottom of the ditch. Leaning over the edge for a better view, she clung to the tree trunk for balance. Gasping as she peered through the blizzard, she saw a large, dark object at the bottom of the ditch. Jumping back, her heart pounded at the thought of a bear. But it didn’t move. Would a bear be sleeping out in the open? Not understanding what she was seeing, she blinked several times, trying to bring the object into focus. Oh, my God…Marc! It’s Marc!