Page 21 of Mountain Struggle

Drake lowered his voice so only Damien could hear.

“He’s going to be okay, Damien. Back at the river, he said he wasn’t scared because he was with Tess, and because he knew you were coming for him.”

“In the end it was you, Hiro and Bailey who saved him. Thank you, Drake.”

“Of course.”

“I mean it.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me, or any of us.”

Damien nodded. Sometimes, words were unnecessary.

He thought back to the moment he’d been reunited with his son—Jamie had been sitting in the back of an ambulance, wearing an oversized jumper, his little legs hanging off the edge of the stretcher. When he’d seen Damien he’d jumped off, run to him as fast as those legs could carry him and jumped straight into his arms. At that moment, Damien hadn’t cared about his shoulder, or even that he was tearing up in front of his colleagues.

Then the boy had looked behind them and brought Tess into their hug. For a moment, they’d felt like a family.

But we’re not a family.

I need to remember that.

Damien had been the one to break the kiss in the cave—because it was inappropriate, because she was vulnerable, because she deserved better from him. But her taste, her touch, were branded in his brain, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to get her out of his system.

Tess walked past him into the house. She was still wearing large, ill-fitting clothes from among the spares he’d carried in his backpack.

Normally she would have walked along the side of the main house to her studio in the back, but Damien imagined she didn’t want to be alone tonight. He too would prefer to monitor her, although the EMT had pronounced her healthy enough.

I’d prefer not to let either of them out of my sight again.

“Sit down,” he told Tess. “I’m going to put Jamie to bed first and then I’ll make you some dinner.”

Ignoring him, Tess padded softly behind him in her socked feet.

Jamie’s room was a shock to his system. Looking at the racing car bed, Damien could still remember the grief, the fear that’d filled him the previous night.

Jamie’s back. He’s safe.

Once again he felt something wet on his cheeks—he rubbed the tears away impatiently with the back of his hand. He forced himself to lay the boy down on the bed and covered him gently with the thin summer duvet. Jamie didn’t even stir.

“Thank you,” he said softly to Tess, who was still standing by the door. “For protecting him. I don’t know what I would have done—”

“You don’t have to think about that, Damien,” Tess said firmly. She walked into the room and stood beside him. “Jamie was so brave the whole time,” she added. Her eyes got a faraway look in them, and Damien knew she was reliving what had happened.

He reached out and grabbed her soft, smooth hand.

Although they’d gone over everything, Damien knew he was going to have to ask more questions—but those could wait until the next morning.

From the small bed, Jamie moaned. “Tess … Where are you…”

He’s speaking in his sleep.

“I’m here, Jamie. I’m right here,” she said, leaning over to push a dark lock out of the boy’s face.

Jamie stilled again at the sound of her voice, his little form relaxing on the bed.

“Sit down,” he said, bringing a chair closer. “before you keel over. I’ll go make some food and call you when it’s ready.”

But of course he didn’t—because by the time the pasta was cooked, Tess was asleep on the bed on top of the covers, her arms around Jamie.