Oath of Honor

and shatter like glass on the rocks. “No matter what you think, I need to

take care of you right now.”

Wes drew a sharp breath. “I’m not sure how good I’ll be at that—

being the patient, I mean.”

“Not used to being taken care of?”

“Not really, no.”

“No one special?” The silence stretched and Evyn waited for the

shutters to close again. But Wes just searched her eyes, and Evyn was

too tired and worried to hide whatever might show.

“No, no one.”

“Then I guess I’m it tonight,” Evyn said, trying for lightness.

“It might take some getting used to,” Wes said softly. “I might not

be any good at it.”

“I doubt there’s anything you aren’t good at.” Evyn packed her

gear and bagged their wet clothes. She held out her hand to Wes. “Let’s

start practicing and see how you do.”

Wes rose slowly from the bench, wavering ever so slightly. Evyn

slid her arm around Wes’s waist. “Okay?”

“Don’t quite have my land legs yet.” Wes let out an exasperated

sigh and draped her arm over Evyn’s shoulders. “Just give me a

minute.”

“Take all the time you need. We’re not on a schedule tonight.”

Wes’s hand curved around Evyn’s shoulder, the pressure of her

fingers shooting tendrils of excitement through Evyn’s chest. Her heart

hammered and her legs quivered. She braced her muscles, hoping

Wes couldn’t feel her tremble. She planned on taking care of Wes and

nothing more.

“Ready to get out of here?” Evyn asked.

“More than ready.” Wes dropped her arm and stepped away. “I

think I can make it on my own.”

Evyn missed the contact instantly and said casually, “Never

doubted it. Let’s go find a room for the night.”

Wes laughed softly. “More practice?”

• 156 •

Oath Of hOnOr

“Uh…hell. You think maybe you could cut me some slack? My

brain is a little numb here.”

“Well, let’s go get you warmed up.”

Wes reached for the door and pushed it open, and Evyn wondered

how the tables had been so neatly turned.

• 157 •

RADCLYfFE

chapter nineteen

The neon sign announcing the Bayside Motel blinked

erratically, illuminating the L-shaped motor court in flashes

of holiday red and green. A mud-spattered black Ford pickup truck

and a low-slung eighties Cadillac convertible with big patches of rust-

colored primer on the fenders were the only vehicles in the gravel lot.

A light burned in the room closest to the road. A hand-painted sign

propped in the streaked window proclaimed “Office.”

“Looks like a hot-sheet motel,” Wes said, laughing softly.

“Cord swears this place is clean and makes decent coffee,” Evyn

said. “That’s all we need, then.” Wes didn’t care where they bunked—

she’d slept in worse places, including a tent in the Afghan mountains.

Compared to that, this rated five stars.

Evyn pulled the rented Jeep into the lot just as the sun went down

and the wind came up. “I’ll run in and register.”

When Evyn pushed open the door, the wind clattering through the

branches of the red oaks surrounding the motel filled the Jeep with a

sound like machine-gun fire. Wes jerked and her stomach lurched. She

had been posted to a field hospital close enough to the front to hear the

firefights ranging in the hills at night, her tent a poor shield against stray

rounds. She’d rarely slept deeply, her body always primed to duck and

cover. Even now, eighteen months later, she instinctively looked for

cover when a car backfired or a door slammed. She hadn’t been this

jittery since she’d returned stateside. The afternoon’s brief unscheduled

swim shouldn’t have thrown her equilibrium off so much—maybe her

• 158 •

Oath Of hOnOr

agitation was due to the lingering chill the steaming shower hadn’t

dispersed.

Leaning out the open door, Evyn peered up at the sky. “Cord

said we might get snow, and I think it’s arrived—blowing in fast. You

should stay in the car until I get back. The last thing you need is to get

wet again.”

Wes reached across the seat and grabbed Evyn’s sleeve, stopping

her from climbing out. “You need to stay dry too.” She handed her

North Face jacket to Evyn, who had left the rescue station wearing only

jeans and her T-shirt. “This has got a hood. Go ahead, take it.”

“You sure?”

“The heater’s blasting in here. I’m plenty warm. Plenty hungry

too.”Evyn grinned. “Excellent prognostic sign. What do you think

about pizza? There’s a place across the street, and I doubt we’ll get

anything delivered out here tonight if a storm is coming.”

“Sounds great. Since I already know you’re not a vegetarian, I’ll

take pepperoni.”

“Perfect. Mushrooms?”

“And black olives.”

Evyn nodded approvingly. “Nailed it.”

Wes laughed. “How about beer?”

“Sam Adams if I can’t get any kind of microbrew?”

“You nailed it.”

Laughing, Evyn jumped out, shrugged into Wes’s jacket, and

flipped up the hood. She slammed the door, shoved her hands in her

pockets, and ran through the icy mix of rain and snow, her form briefly

outlined by the headlights before she disappeared into the dark. Wes

watched a few seconds longer, a strange foreboding churning inside