Page 66 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“No,” Beau and I said in unison.
Michael gave us a sideways glance but shrugged and turned to the men crowded at his back. “No cops,” he told the crew. “Let’s wake Douchebag up and make sure he’s alive.”
The audience at my door dispersed and the men shuffled around outside. Boone jogged in and came right to my side. Michael came in soon after and declared he was going to hang with the guys for the rest of the night and just camp outside.
“Are you still cold?” Beau asked after Michael left with a couple extra blankets.
I nodded and burrowed further under my sleeping bag.
“Come here.” He held out a hand and helped me off my cot. Then with practiced ease, he set up our sleeping-bag bed on the floor. Tucked into his arms, it only took ten minutes for the chill that had seeped into my bones to finally disappear.
The scare from earlier was still fresh but I said a silent prayer of thanks that it hadn’t turned out worse. As it was, I’d be able to brush it off after a few days.
I sent up another grateful message to whichever angel had sent Beau Holt into my life. Because though tonight’s circumstances had been extreme, I was undeniably happy to be back in his arms.
Early the next morning, the hotshot crew was in a subdued mood. As the first ray of sun lit the sky, they all roused from their simple beds and started packing up camp. Beau and I woke early too, anxious to see our visitors—one individual in particular—gone.
As his crew cleaned up the fire pit, loaded bags and repacked their vehicles, Dylan sat in the passenger seat of one truck with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. One entire side of his face was red and swollen from where Beau had clobbered him. I tried but couldn’t summon a single ounce of sympathy for the asshole. Dylan had deserved that hit and the pain he’d be feeling for the next few days.
When the crew was loaded and ready to leave, Beau, Michael and I stood in a row, saying good-bye to the team. Michael promised to visit the guys that lived in Bozeman after forest fire season was over. Beau praised each and every one of the men for the hard work they’d put forward on this fire. And I plastered on a smile, doing my best to ease the worry etched on the men’s faces as they apologized on Dylan’s behalf.
As the crew’s trucks disappeared down the rough road, a mountain of tension went with them.
“How did the rest of the party go?” Beau asked Michael.
“Quiet. We pretty much all stared at the fire, then fell asleep.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I had a bad feeling about Dylan and shouldn’t have left the party alone.”
“Don’t apologize,” Beau said. “We all thought he was passed out. I wish I’d hit that fucker harder.”
“Down, boy,” I teased, touching his arm so his fists would unclench. He grumbled but relaxed.
Beau was right. I didn’t need to apologize. The fault was Dylan’s, but regardless, next time I would be more careful.
Wait, next time?
I hoped that was just a mental blip because I didn’t think I had it in me to fight off another Anton or Dylan. As promised, Beau had brought me my bear spray but I had no desire to learn how to use it. Hell, I hadn’t even considered using the spray last night. Instead I’d run into the dark woods, barefoot.
God, Sabrina. You’re worse than those stupid horror movie girls.
I pressed my lips together to keep my laughter inside. “I need more coffee,” I told the guys, turning to walk inside. I didn’t want to explain a sudden fit of giggles.
“So how are the supplies?” Beau asked, joining me in the kitchen a few minutes later.
I took a quick inventory of the cupboards and fridge. My food tubs had been mostly cleaned out last night at the party but I still had enough to last a while.
“I’ve got enough fo
r at least a week by myself.”
“Okay. I need to get Michael back to town and check in at the office. I want to get my formal complaint in to Dylan’s boss as soon as possible. I really hate leaving you after all that shit last night but—”
“Go, I’m fine.”
“What if you have a nightmare or—”
“Beau, I’m fine. You need to report Dylan. I don’t want something bad to happen to those guys because you were too worried to leave me here alone. I’ve got Boone and a novel to write. Really, go. I’m fine.”
