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“I’m fine.” She leaned against the tree, and sweat beaded her forehead. “I hit about a dozen rocks on the way down. That’s all.”

There were other scrapes and cuts along her neck and collarbone. If she fell down the bluff, she could easily have broken a rib.

“Can you walk to the truck?”

She took a step, then winced. “My ankle is twisted.”

I swept her into my arms and carried her back up the hill. She tucked her head against my neck, pain creasing every corner of her face. Her hair was damp with sweat and caked with dirt.

Terror still gripped me, even though I held her in my arms and I could trust the men to make sure the ranch was secured once more. We’d messed up. And it nearly got her killed.

No one else had known of her place along the bluff. If I hadn’t been here, what might have happened?

Eddie rushed up to us, and he looked her over with rage and relief. “I’m going to kill Merrick.”

“Get the truck,” I instructed. “Start with that.”

“No one’s killing anyone,” Eva muttered, her skin hot against mine and her eyes fluttering closed.

“Stay awake, Eva.”

We drove back to the house, and EP saw to checking Acorn for injury and putting her back in her stall.

Annie ran outside, and Eddie grabbed her shoulders to keep her back from Eva as I carried her in and set her down on a long couch in the living room.

“Dad? Is she okay?” Annie cried into her fists.

“Let’s get Warren the medical kit and then give them some space.”

“I’m fine, really.” Eva groaned. “Nothing’s broken.”

“You scared us,” I said, my voice thick. I couldn’t admit just how scared I was.

“Could you get me a cold washcloth?”

I went to the kitchen, pulled a clean cloth from a drawer, and ran it under the faucet. I spotted a metal box to the side of the sink and wondered if it was a first aid kit—we’d need some iodine to clean her cuts.

The latch was stuck at first and the hinges creaked. It wasn’t medical supplies.

A Purple Heart.

A Silver Star.

A Distinguished Service Medal.

I closed the box, realizing I shouldn’t have seen this, not without her permission.

In that moment, my entire perspective on Lieutenant Eva Bryant changed. Those weren’t common accolades. They indicated that she had seen the worst of the war and she’d been seriously wounded in combat. That she’d saved a lot of lives.

I took the washcloth and a glass of water to her. She pressed the cloth to the cut on her forehead and sank back to the couch.

“Should we take you to the hospital?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Just stay with me?”

“Of course.” I put my hand over hers. Now that my adrenaline had subsided and the intensity had eased, exhaustion pressed in on me.

She opened her eyes and focused on me. “Warren, I’m okay, I promise.”