Surviving Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  “…seen Marc use the handheld GPS system? It’s about—”

  “Yes,” she said, digging in the duffle bag and pulling it out. “I’ve got it in my hands.”

  “Okay, I’m downloading the directions to the system and if you are holding it, it will show you the way. All you have to do is… Do you think you can do that?”

  “All I have to do is what? What did you say?” Knowing this information was vital to their survival, she started to panic. No! Not again. You can do this. You have to do this. “Are you sure staying here isn’t safer?”

  A brief silence followed her question and then Chad came through. “Kendall, we don’t want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. With Marc incapacitated, you’re in charge now. We just want to give you options. Following the GPS to the site is your best bet.”

  “Okay. I don’t think I can carry everything and help him as well, but I’ll do my best,” she replied hesitantly, her gaze falling on Marc’s sleeping form. Sucking in a deep breath, she said, “I’ll see how he is when he wakes up. Can I call this number if I need?”

  “Absolutely,” Luke assured. “It might not go through the first time, but keep trying. We’ll check in a little bit. And I promise, we have a rescue mission in the works.”

  Thanking him, she disconnected, closing her eyes momentarily as her mind whirled with the suggestion. A cabin sounded wonderful…or at least a wooden structure to keep the wind at bay. She thought about how difficult it had been to move Marc from the ditch to the tent. How the hell can I move him again?

  *

  Chad sat in silence for a moment as the phone line went dead. Sucking in a deep breath, the normally stoic teammate cursed loudly as he leaned back in his chair. “Fucking hell! There was more static than words from that conversation.”

  Charlie looked over at Luke, not knowing what to say. Being the newest member of the Saints put her at a disadvantage in feeling out the dynamics of the group as a whole. Luke glanced at her, a jerky shake of his head his only response. Sucking in her lips, she kept quiet as the men around the table erupted in a cacophony of cursing mixed with planning.

  Calling them back to order, Cam said, “Okay, missions go awry all the time, but we work the problems. That’s what we need to do now.”

  Luke called Bart, explaining the situation, knowing it could affect the rescue. Then he listened as Cam placed a call to Jack, knowing he needed to be updated on the mission as well. As Luke and Cam then circled around the maps and satellite screens, Chad called Monty.

  Finally, an unsettling silence floating over the group, Charlie said, “You know, it might not be as bad as you’re thinking.” Gaining the, if somewhat incredulous, attention of the others, she continued.

  “So what if Dr. Rhodes is a woman unused to being in the great outdoors? I mean, you all are assuming she’s in over her head and can’t do anything. Come on, guys. I didn’t know what I could do until I had a killer after me!”

  “Yes, but—” Chad started.

  “But nothing,” Charlie insisted. “She’s already gone out and found him, managed to get him back to their camp, and is taking charge. She’s smart and it’s not like she’s alone. Marc might not be able to do as much, but he can guide her. I just don’t think ya’ll are giving her enough credit.”

  “We’re used to being the ones who execute the missions…not having the missions take care of us,” Cam said.

  “I understand,” she agreed. “I’m just saying that I think Kendall Rhodes is probably a lot more capable than you think.” With a smile, she winked at Luke and turned back to her computers.

  *

  A howl sounded in the distance and Kendall bolted upright. Oh, God, what was that? She ran through the possibilities Marc had mentioned and none of them sounded good. Bears? Should be hibernating. Should be…but not have to be. Wolves? Do they hibernate? She listened closely, but heard nothing but the wind.

  Closing her eyes, she longed to fall asleep on a soft mattress in a warm room after taking a hot shower. Just as she was about to drift off again, she heard Marc moan as he attempted to stretch. His eyes fluttered open, finally focusing on her face.

  “Hey,” she said softly, touching his face again to check for a fever, relieved when only cool skin greeted her fingertips.

  “Hey,” he repeated, looking up at her once more leaning over him, her beautiful eyes peering deeply into his. She slid to his side, pushing his shoulders up slightly so he could accept the water she offered. “Thanks,” he said, wishing his head would stop pounding. “Did I hear you talking to someone earlier or was I dreaming?”

  “No, you heard. Luke called and I talked to your team. Well, sort of. The connection wasn’t great.”

  Marc fought the urge to roll his eyes in disgust, knowing the motion would make his headache worse. He hated that his team knew he was out of commission for falling down a ditch. Jesus, I’m a fuckin’ idiot! How could I have made such a rookie mistake? Sucking in a deep breath, he said, “What did they say?”

  “Mostly, they were concerned about you.”

  He noticed her hesitation and prompted, “And?”

  “They said they have our location on satellite and can see some type of wooden structure about a mile away from here.”

  Marc’s mind immediately jumped into planning mode. “A mile? Which direction? Is it still snowing outside?”

  “Whoa, hold on,” she chastised. “There’s no way I can get you there in the middle of a blizzard!”

  “If I had a heavy stick that I could use as a crutch, I’d be able to make it.” Grimacing, he added, “I’d need your help, but I really want to get you out of this tent and into something sturdier.” He hated having to rely on her when she should be relying on him, but wanted desperately to get her out of the storm.

  “Marc,” she said, her face soft in the light of the small fire. “You don’t have to do anything for me.” Just then a gust caught the corner of the tent and the flap opened, blasting snow inside before she was able to scramble over to tie it back down.

  Marc’s phone vibrated an alert to an incoming message and he looked at the screen. “Luke’s programed the information into the GPS. Kendall, I think we should try.”

  Swallowing deeply, she said, “What if we can’t make it?”

  “Hey,” he reached out, taking her hand. “You dragged me out of a ditch and, by the way, I can’t believe little you were able to do that. I’m not exactly small!”

  A snort erupted as she agreed. Pondering the idea, she thought longingly about the possibility of a dry, wooden shelter. Nodding before she chickened out, she said, “Okay, but we need to plan what we’re doing, because once we get outside, it will take all our strength just to move.”

  Grinning, Marc said, “Spoken like a true Saint!”

  An hour later, they were ready to set off. They had repacked the duffle with the food box, first aid kit, dry clothes, the blanket, and whatever else Marc deemed necessary. She managed to cram most of her belongings into her large tote.

  Kendall had gone back into the woods, finding a strong stick with some difficulty, causing her to re-think their attempt. But now, standing on the outside of their shelter, she could see the havoc the blizzard was wreaking on the small tarp-tent. We’ll be lucky if it lasts another day. She untied the tarp, dismantling the structure right over Marc’s head, upon his instructions. Wrestling an octopus would have been easier than untying the tarp with the wind whipping it back and forth. Finally, she managed to wad it up enough to shove it into the duffle.

  Assisting him to a standing position, she groaned under his weight combined with the duffle on his back. Determined to keep her negative thoughts to herself, she swung her tote over her arm as she moved in to support his body as he hopped a few feet.

  He saw the disbelief in her eyes, but steeled his resolve. I need her assistance, but I’ll be damned if I’m the reason we die out here if I can help get us to a shelter!

  Chapter 13


  Wind, snow, and biting cold made everything more difficult. Looking up into Marc’s face, observing the grimace of pain, she wondered how they would ever make it a mile, considering she was panting and they had not taken a step.

  Marc caught the doubt in her eyes, but was determined to pull his weight…or at least the duffle. With her help, he slid the straps on his shoulders to carry it like a backpack. As she handed the crutch to him, he tested its strength. He acknowledged that she had chosen well when it did not buckle under him. Testing his foot, he stuck his boot into the snow and leaned slightly, wincing when sharp pain shot up his leg. Fuck! Experimenting with the stick, he managed to move forward with a combination step, hobble, step, hobble.

  Seeing her dubious expression, he nodded. “I’m ready.” With his right hand on the makeshift crutch and his left arm across her shoulders, they set off. Step, hobble, step, hobble.

  The snow was now at least six inches deep, and more, where it had drifted. Kendall tried to support as much of Marc’s weight as she could, terrified of him falling and making his injury worse. Holding the GPS in her hand, she squinted so she could see their location. Looking up, she said, “We need to stay straight and we should run right into it.”

  Glad to have the trees catching the brunt of the wind, she tried to avoid the rocky meadow to the east and veered them into the forest. After fifteen minutes, she could hear Marc’s harsh breathing as he came to a stop at a large tree. Propping him against the trunk, away from the wind, she turned her face up toward his.

  “God, I’m sorry,” he groaned, furious at his weakened condition. Being forced to rely on someone else when he was supposed to be protecting them went against his nature…especially relying on a mission…and a small female at that! Gritting his teeth, he sucked in the cold air, attempting to clear his mind.

  “Don’t apologize,” she said, looking at his red cheeks, knowing he was winded. “We’ll make it, I promise.” She was not entirely sure she could keep her promise but felt that if she said it, then perhaps it would be true.

  Grunting, he peered into her eyes, observing steely determination now replaced the earlier doubt. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

  She grinned, but it was hidden behind her scarf. Pulling it down slightly, she added, “Well, looks like Paul Bunyan is just going to have to trust little ‘ol me.”

  “Oh, I trust you, all right. I’m the one who said you were stronger than you realize.”

  Smiling once more, she shoved the scarf back around her mouth. “Ready?”

  With his nod, they started out, shuffling through the snow once more. After another fifteen minutes, she studied the GPS noting it looked like they were half way to the structure. She figured it would take an hour to reach the shack but, at the rate they were going, it would take longer. She felt his weight on her growing heavier with each step.

  Stopping once more, she watched his chest heave as frustration crossed his face. “Look, Marc, we can go faster if we leave the duffle bag here and just concentrate on getting you to safety.”

  He shook his head and argued, “Kendall, we need what’s in this pack. It’s got our supplies, first aid, food—”

  “I’ll come back and get it after we get you in.”

  “Hell, no! I’m not having you come back out in the blizzard to wander around looking for what we leave behind.”

  “Marc, I can—”

  “No! And I mean NO!” he shouted. “Damnit! This is fuckin’ killing me!” He looked down at her as she jerked back from his tone, immediately contrite over his vehemence and let out a deep breath.

  With her lips pinched tightly, she blinked rapidly, warring between wanting to cry and wanting to kick his shins. Refusing to do the former and denying herself the pleasure of the latter, she turned and walked away for a moment. The snow stung her cheeks, as there was no place to hide from the storm. Heaving a sigh, she turned back, just in time to see the anguish on his face.

  Stepping up to him, she nodded as she moved underneath his arm and they silently began the step-hobble dance once more.

  Twenty minutes passed and, as she studied the GPS, she said, “We must be getting close. We should be able to see it soon!”

  After another ten minutes, she looked through the woods, where the snow was less fierce as it had to battle the tree limbs to get to them, and she saw a brown structure in the distance. “Marc! Look!” she shouted.

  He searched through the trees in the direction she was pointing and felt hope for the first time in the past two hours. His foot was screaming, but his head concerned him more with the pounding headache that threatened nausea with each step. Stopping to catch his breath, he lowered his eyes to the woman bravely working to get him to safety. “That’s good, Kendall. You’re amazing.”

  Her scarf had slipped down and he was able to view the brilliance of her smile as it turned toward him. Beautiful. She’s fuckin’ beautiful! For a second all he could think about was capturing her smile in a kiss, but before he could manage to do anything about that thought, her face scrunched.

  “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “There’s a creek to cross!”

  As he followed her pointing finger toward the shack, he could see that indeed there was a small creek, only about three feet across, which normally he could jump over. “Don’t worry,” he assured. “We’ve made it this far and will make it the rest!”

  She turned and said, “Take off the duffle now and let’s cross the creek. Then I can come back and get what was left.”

  He wanted to argue, but knew she was right. While it rankled him to have her carry the load for even part of the way, it was probably the only way he was going to get through the creek. Dropping the bag behind him, he had to admit it made the step-hobble easier.

  Moving to the edge of the creek, there was no way to determine its depth, even though it appeared to be very small. Snow and ice covered the top, but there were a few exposed rocks jutting out of the surface.

  “If I go first and then hold your hand, do you think you can make it?” she asked, doubt now creeping back into her voice.

  Staring at the frozen surface, he nodded, unable to come up with a better plan. Looking across the way at the wooden shack, that right now looked like a slice of heaven, he vowed to get them into its safety as soon as possible.

  Stepping carefully onto the first large stone, Kendall turned and faced him, holding out her hand. Aiming the limb-crutch at the ice-covered water, Marc jabbed it downward, crunching it through the frozen surface until it rested at the bottom, about ten inches deep.

  “Well, if we fall in, we won’t drown,” he joked, but immediately felt contrite as her face registered fear. “No, no…we’ll be fine.”

  Placing his good foot on the stone closest to her, he hobbled over until he was delicately balanced on the rock, with the crutch wobbling under his weight and her hand holding on tightly. Their eyes met, standing in the middle of the creek, a blinding snowstorm swirling around, and he felt the jolt from their gloved touch rush through his body. How the hell can this be? We’re not even skin to skin!

  Jerking her eyes away, she stepped to the next stone before turning back. Repeating the motion, he moved the crutch first and then stepped after her with his good foot. Only this time, as he wobbled, the crutch gave way leaving only Kendall’s hand grasping tightly to his as he leaned precariously to the side.

  Kendall felt the pull of six feet, four inches, and two hundred pounds of muscles against her arm and knew she could not keep him from falling. “Noooooo!” she screamed, refusing to let go as they toppled over together into the icy water.

  Instinctively, Marc tried to twist so he would hit first and she would land on top but their bulky clothing made that impossible as they fell side by side, her tote landing in the water as well. Their clothes kept them from feeling the cold at first as she became a whirl of arms and legs trying to sit up.

  “I’m so sorry,” she cried, bending over to see if he was hurt. Plunging her hand
s in the frozen creek, she pulled as hard as she could to lift him to a sitting position. Scrambling behind him, her feet felt leaden as the water filled her boots.

  Reaching to the side to grab his fallen crutch, he managed to stand with her help, pain slicing up his leg and through his head. He did not speak, unable to trust that he would not devolve into a fury of cursing. Water dripped off his arms as he jerked away from her, teetering once more.

  “Don’t be stupid, Marc!” she chastised, as the cold water threatened to turn her feet into blocks of ice. “You need my help!”

  “You’re soaking wet and freezing, Kendall, and you wouldn’t be if I didn’t need your help!” Marc bellowed.

  His chest rising and falling in rapid succession, she held his fierce stare. After a tense moment he relented, albeit unhappily, and threw his arm over her once more. Together, they slogged the two feet to the ground and step-hobbled the last fifty yards to the shelter. “I’m going in first,” Marc announced, in a desperate attempt to salvage some semblance of control.

  Rolling her eyes, Kendall did not argue, too tired and cold to care. He opened the door slowly, shining the bright light inside, pleased to find it empty of critters and that, while there was only a dirt floor, it was dry. The shack was little more than four wooden walls with a sloped roof, but in the corner—holy shit…a wood burning stove! Thank fuck for hunters!

  Pushing his way in, he hopped toward the old, crude stove, quickly assessing its usability. Turning around, he discovered Kendall was not behind him. Hobbling back to the door, he saw her heading back toward the creek to get the duffle. Taking a minute to keep his eye on her, he fought to bring his irritation under control. Irritation with himself, not her. He could not remember a time when he had not been in control on a mission and the foreign, impotent feeling left him inwardly cursing. A shiver ran over him as the icy wetness of his clothes began to penetrate. And she’s still out there…for us.