Thank fuck for that, because I have a feeling that she’s gonna balk about getting in the ambulance, never mind having people she doesn’t know touching her.
He urged her ahead of him toward the door and silently cursed when her whole body went rigid again when she spotted the ambulance with its lights off, waiting next to the runway.
Shit.
“Easy, Enya. I’ll be with you the whole way,” he promised. “You don’t need to do this on your own.”
He had to practically carry her down the steps and into the back of the ambulance. The paramedic, a woman with calm eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor, took one look at them and backed off, letting Rowan help Enya onto the gurney.
Once she was situated, he sat on the bench, his big frame taking up most of the space, as the medic efficiently and quietly took vitals, her movements careful and deliberate. He watched Enya watch him, her gaze never leaving his face.
Enya flinched as if struck. Her face contorted, lips peeling back from her teeth in something between a snarl and a sob. “I can’t—I can’t— Don’t touch me.”
Rowan blinked at the terror in her voice and followed her line of sight to where a second EMT paused midway into the ambulance.
“Back off a minute, dude.” He leaned toward Enya, blocking the EMT from view. “He’s not going to hurt you, I promise.”
“He—I—” Her chest heaved, her entire body vibrating with the effort of holding herself together. The stretcher creaked under the force of her struggle. “I just—I can’t?—”
His palm cupped her neck before he could second-guess it. Her skin was fever-hot, her pulse a frantic rabbit’s kick beneath his fingers. “Easy,” his voice didn’t even sound like his own, unless you counted when he worked with the yearlings. “He’s going to go sit up front, ’kay?” His gaze flicked to the male EMT, silently daring him to have an issue with it.
“Sir.” The female EMT cleared her throat. “We have to have two EMTs in the bus at all times…”
“Ma’am, unless you want her to lose her damn mind before we make it to the ER, you are just gonna have to make an exception this once.”
If they don’t allow it. I’m going to have to borrow a truck from Garrett and drive her there myself.
The medics exchanged glances, clearly having an unspoken conversation, before the male nodded and slammed the doors shut.
The engine growled to life beneath them, the vibration humming up through the soles of Rowan’s boots. Enya didn’t relax; if anything, her body coiled tighter. Her muscles were wound so tight he could see the tendons standing out in her neck. But her eyes stayed fixed on him, wide and wild, like he was her anchor in the storm of her life.
The ambulance lurched forward, and a couple of minutes later, the tires rumbled over the Texas gates, telling him they had pulled onto the access road. Rowan kept his hand on her wrist, his thumb brushing over the frantic beat of her pulse, and for the first time in years, he ignored every rule he’d ever lived by and let himself care more about a hostage than he should have.
I dare anyone to wear the boots I do and to stand by and allow her to deal with this alone.
Once they arrived at the hospital, the ambulance doors swung open and Rowan’s eyes widened as he recognized the man standing behind the team waiting to unload their patient. Camden Moore looked ten years older than he had at Stronghold. His face was a mask of emotions, but Rowan recognized both anguish and hope. Behind him, a woman with Enya’s eyes sagged against his arm, her hand covering hermouth as a sob escaped when she spotted her daughter in the ambulance.
Enya whispered a single broken word, “Daddy?”
Camden stumbled into the ambulance, his knees nearly buckling. He didn’t reach for her. He just stood there, with a single tear trailing down his face. “Baby girl,” he choked out. “Oh, God, Enya.”
Rowan stood up, melting back into the corner of the ambulance to give them space. This was their moment. He was just the delivery guy. He’d done his job. He watched as Enya’s mother climbed in, her face streaked with tears, and finally, Enya’s composure broke. Her own sobs began, silent and shaking at first, then wracking her entire body.
Camden finally moved, sinking to his knees beside the gurney. He took his daughter’s hand, the one Rowan wasn’t holding. Rowan hadn’t even realized he was still holding it. He slowly, carefully, let go.
He was an intruder here, a witness to a grief and reunion so profound, even his war-hardened heart fluttered with some kind of emotion. He looked away, his gaze falling on the organized sterility of the ambulance, anything to avoid the raw, powerful feelings flooding the small space. His mission was over, his package delivered safely to her family. It was time to get his ass home where it belonged… Stronghold Ranch, with his men and his horses.
But as he looked at the broken family clinging to one another, he felt a strange, unwelcome ache in his own chest. He had saved her, yes. He had kept his promise. But what came next? For her? For them? He had no fucking idea. He was an Operator. Heknew how to break things and how to kill people. He didn’t know the first thing about how to put anyone back together again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It had beenninety-four days since she’d been rescued and eighty-six days since she’d been home. But ‘home’ wasn’t a place anymore. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t the sprawling ranch house she’d grown up in. This house was just another kind of prison, only this one had softer walls and guards who wore their heartbreak at what she’d endured on their faces.
From her window seat, Enya watched a cardinal land on the branch of a live oak. It was a startling slash of red against the muted greens and browns of the winter landscape. The bird puffed its chest out, sang a sharp, clear song, and then was gone.
Free. It’s so free.
The thought was a flat, gray stone dropped into the murky water of her mind.
