John Wayne is.”
“Well, of course I know who he is. He’s that guy who does those shows in Vegas.”
Dead silence filled the cave, which was so dark now that she couldn’t see his face anymore.
“Jessica?”
“Yes, Ryan?”
“Are you teasing me?”
“Maybe.”
“I jump into a burning building for her and this is how she repays me. Denigratingmy heroes. It’s a sad world we live in.”
The reminder of the house fire was like a bucket of ice water, sobering her and washing away her earlier amusement. She flipped on her side to face him. The darkness gave her courage. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his shoulder, and followed his sleeve down to his hand, entwining her fingers with his.
“Jessica,” he said, his voiceoddly strained. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve never really thanked you for saving me. I know I wouldn’t have gotten out of my house alive if it weren’t for you. I still can’t believe you jumped through that fire for someone like me.” She squeezed his hand and followed the line of his arm back up until she touched his cheek. She was so tired now that she didn’t care if he stiffened against heror not. Leaning forward, she pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t stiffen or pull away, but it was a long time before he spoke. “You’re welcome.” His voice sounded deeper than usual, but there was genuine warmth in his words, no condemnation or disgust this time.
The tension in Jessica’s shoulders eased. “Will you tell me more about yourself?”she asked.
“Like what? My service number?”
“Tell me that later, when I have a pen.”
He chuckled. “Short bio. I grew up on a horse ranch in Colorado with three brothers and a sister. I was in the army for ten years, got out a few months ago and became a marshal. Never been married, no kids.”
“Why would you quit the army to become a marshal?”
“Tradition. Most everyone inmy family goes into law enforcement eventually, in some capacity. I wanted to serve my country first, but then, after...”
She felt him shrug against her in the darkness.
“After my last tour, I felt I’d done my duty, so I became a marshal.”
What was he about to say when he paused? Jessica sensed there was more to him quitting the army than he was admitting. “You said it’s a familytradition to go into law enforcement. What about your mom and your sister?”
“My mom did a stint as a 9-1-1 operator. My sister’s the oldest of my siblings and the first one in my generation to carry on the tradition. She’s a detective, and she’d probably slug you for implying that a woman can’t succeed in law enforcement.”
“I didn’t mean to...I wasn’t trying to say, that is—”
Hereached out and squeezed her hand. “Apology accepted.”
Jessica felt the warmth of his hand all the way to her toes. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “If your family is busy chasing bad guys, who takes care of the ranch?”
“We all pitched in when we could, still do on occasion. But mostly, Mom handles the books and Dad hires ranch hands to take care of day-to-day operations.The ranch has been in the family a long time. It’s a well-oiled machine.”
“So, you’re a cowboy-soldier-marshal who likes John Wayne and hates city life. There are a lot of holes in that bio.”
“Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”
“Okay. What’s your middle name?”
He squeezed her hand again. “Anything but that.”
“You said you were an open book.”
“I am, except for mymiddle name. It’s my cross to bear. I still haven’t forgiven my mother.”
Jessica laughed. “It can’t be that bad. At least tell me what it starts with.”
“It comes after d and before f.”
“I’m guessing it’s e.”
“Smart lady.”
“Be warned. You’ve whet my curiosity and I don’t give up easily. I’m going to figure out your middle name.”
“Not a chance,” he said.
The bedof branches
“Well, of course I know who he is. He’s that guy who does those shows in Vegas.”
Dead silence filled the cave, which was so dark now that she couldn’t see his face anymore.
“Jessica?”
“Yes, Ryan?”
“Are you teasing me?”
“Maybe.”
“I jump into a burning building for her and this is how she repays me. Denigratingmy heroes. It’s a sad world we live in.”
The reminder of the house fire was like a bucket of ice water, sobering her and washing away her earlier amusement. She flipped on her side to face him. The darkness gave her courage. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his shoulder, and followed his sleeve down to his hand, entwining her fingers with his.
“Jessica,” he said, his voiceoddly strained. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve never really thanked you for saving me. I know I wouldn’t have gotten out of my house alive if it weren’t for you. I still can’t believe you jumped through that fire for someone like me.” She squeezed his hand and followed the line of his arm back up until she touched his cheek. She was so tired now that she didn’t care if he stiffened against heror not. Leaning forward, she pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t stiffen or pull away, but it was a long time before he spoke. “You’re welcome.” His voice sounded deeper than usual, but there was genuine warmth in his words, no condemnation or disgust this time.
The tension in Jessica’s shoulders eased. “Will you tell me more about yourself?”she asked.
“Like what? My service number?”
“Tell me that later, when I have a pen.”
He chuckled. “Short bio. I grew up on a horse ranch in Colorado with three brothers and a sister. I was in the army for ten years, got out a few months ago and became a marshal. Never been married, no kids.”
“Why would you quit the army to become a marshal?”
“Tradition. Most everyone inmy family goes into law enforcement eventually, in some capacity. I wanted to serve my country first, but then, after...”
She felt him shrug against her in the darkness.
“After my last tour, I felt I’d done my duty, so I became a marshal.”
What was he about to say when he paused? Jessica sensed there was more to him quitting the army than he was admitting. “You said it’s a familytradition to go into law enforcement. What about your mom and your sister?”
“My mom did a stint as a 9-1-1 operator. My sister’s the oldest of my siblings and the first one in my generation to carry on the tradition. She’s a detective, and she’d probably slug you for implying that a woman can’t succeed in law enforcement.”
“I didn’t mean to...I wasn’t trying to say, that is—”
Hereached out and squeezed her hand. “Apology accepted.”
Jessica felt the warmth of his hand all the way to her toes. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “If your family is busy chasing bad guys, who takes care of the ranch?”
“We all pitched in when we could, still do on occasion. But mostly, Mom handles the books and Dad hires ranch hands to take care of day-to-day operations.The ranch has been in the family a long time. It’s a well-oiled machine.”
“So, you’re a cowboy-soldier-marshal who likes John Wayne and hates city life. There are a lot of holes in that bio.”
“Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”
“Okay. What’s your middle name?”
He squeezed her hand again. “Anything but that.”
“You said you were an open book.”
“I am, except for mymiddle name. It’s my cross to bear. I still haven’t forgiven my mother.”
Jessica laughed. “It can’t be that bad. At least tell me what it starts with.”
“It comes after d and before f.”
“I’m guessing it’s e.”
“Smart lady.”
“Be warned. You’ve whet my curiosity and I don’t give up easily. I’m going to figure out your middle name.”
“Not a chance,” he said.
The bedof branches
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