Oath of Honor

as soon as Evyn vanished from sight. She clasped her hands and put

them between her knees. She wasn’t cold, but her fingers were icy.

She wondered if that was her imagination. The temperature had fallen

rapidly in the face of the approaching storm, but she was used to cold

weather. She shivered and peered into the near-empty lot, a creeping

unease making her twitch.

Evyn had left the headlights on, and the halos from the slanting

beams seemed to be keeping the circle of darkness at bay. She’d never

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been afraid of the dark and didn’t get spooked by unknown terrain.

She was a naval officer and an emergency physician—she was trained

to handle imminent danger. The headlights dimmed and the darkness

drew closer. Her breath came a little faster and a heaviness pervaded

her chest.

She closed her eyes and she was upside down again, swirling in an

endless void that sucked her down into cold, dark silence. Gasping, she

shot up straight and opened her eyes. Outside her fogged window, the

snow fell thicker, a white blanket screening the world from view. She

couldn’t see the motel. She couldn’t see where Evyn had gone. Evyn.

Evyn was solid and real and warm. She fought the urge to get out of the

car and look for her.

“Okay,” Wes whispered aloud, “you know what this is. Fatigue,

residual hypothermic confusion, delayed stress reaction. You’re entitled

to all of it—for an hour or so.”

Cataloging her symptoms helped relieve the pressure in her chest

some. She took a deep breath, heard the faint wheeze of constricted

bronchioles. Evyn was right, she wasn’t fit to fly. She needed to replenish

the fuel she’d burned off while struggling against the killer current. She

needed to sleep. Evyn had to be in nearly the same shape—she’d been

in the water almost as long. And she’d fought the current for both of

them.The car door opened and Wes jumped. Evyn dropped into the seat

beside her.

“Okay,” Evyn said, wiping traces of melting snow from her cheeks

with one hand. “I called over for pizza and they said it would be ready

in fifteen. We can get settled and I’ll run over and get it.”

“Maybe we should forget that,” Wes said, her voice sounding

hoarse and foreign.

Evyn backed the Jeep out of the slot and headed farther into the

lot. The long, low motel came into view again as she coasted forward.

“Why? I thought you were hungry?”

Wes swiped at her forehead. She wasn’t hot, but she was sweating.

She wasn’t cold, but she was shivering. “Sorry. I—”

“What’s going on?” Evyn stopped in front of a green metal door

just barely visible through the falling flakes. A cockeyed 12 made

from white stick-on, glow-in-the-dark numbers identified the room.

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Oath Of hOnOr

She downshifted into neutral and pulled the parking brake, leaving the

lights on. “You okay?”

“Yes—sorry. Just jumpy. Sorry.”

Evyn rested her palm on the back of Wes’s neck. Her fingers

were hot as banked coals. “Nothing unusual. You had a hell of a shock

earlier.”

“So did you. You need to stay warm and eat and—”

“Hey,” Evyn said. “That’s all in the plan, Doc. You can relax.

Really.”

“I know. You’re right. I’ll be fine.” Wes closed her eyes and let

her head fall back into the secure cradle of Evyn’s hand. Evyn’s fingers

glided up and down the muscles on either side of her spine, easing the

tension, sending warmth through her. She sighed. “I don’t think the

weather is going to get any better. We ought to make a run for it.”

“Let me get the door open and you get inside—keep dry,” Evyn

murmured, continuing the gentle massage. “I’ll bring in our gear.”

“I appreciate it, but I can help carry our stuff.”

“This is the part where you practice letting me take care of you.”

A tingle of unease skittered down Wes’s spine—she’d been

looking after her own needs most of her life, and her need for Evyn’s

touch, her presence, made her feel exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t

want Evyn’s attention just because Evyn felt guilty. “None of this is

your fault.”

Evyn frowned. “I suck at connect-the-dots, and I’m missing this

picture.”

“You don’t have to look after me because you feel responsible.”

“Wow. Okay.” Evyn’s hand fell away. “I’ll just let you fend for

yourself, then—and when you finally do collapse—”

Beneath the edge of anger in Evyn’s voice, Wes heard hurt. She

didn’t want to hurt her. She didn’t want the cold distance between them

that had nothing to do with the storm or the dark either. “So maybe that

came out a little wrong. I guess I suck at the being taken care of thing. I

had two little sisters who couldn’t even remember our dad. Things were

harder for them, and my mother had only so much energy to spread

around between the four of us.”

“Okay.” Evyn’s shoulders relaxed and the tightness around her

mouth softened. The red highlights in her hair gleamed against the glow

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RADCLYfFE

of snow cocooning them, an ethereal image that imprinted on Wes’s

brain. She was beautiful—not model perfect but strong and bold.