BART GORDON SAT at one end of the U-shaped counter in Mo’s Ice Cream Parlor in the main square of Jackson Hole. He was nursing his cup of coffee and noticed how the place was bustling with customers. At 9:00 a.m., tourists were filtering in for breakfast. He’d already eaten his eggs, bacon and hash browns, and was now content to watch the flow of traffic. One corner of his mouth ticked upward. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if Dev McGuire waltzed into this place? He wouldn’t want to be seen by her because it was far too early for that. Still, he relished the thought, his mind taking flight, imagining the shocked look on her face when she spotted him. A sense of satisfaction raced through him. All he had to do was see her face in his mind or say her name, and his body ignited with desire for her.
He was angry at her for getting him fired from his forest ranger job. Claiming assault with the attempt to rape her. The bitch. So he had been a little rough with her. The women he knew liked it that way. It made him feel manly. In charge. A woman should always be controlled, and he enjoyed it. Moving the cream-colored ceramic mug between his large hands, he tasted rage over her reaction to his wanting her. He’d been a forest ranger for seven years after coming out of the Army transportation command. At thirty, he was hanging his hat on doing his twenty years with the USFS and collecting a nice pension that would be the bedrock for his old age. But Dev had destroyed all his plans. Utterly. Revenge warred with desire for the woman.
Dev wasn’t just any woman. He liked black-haired women who had spirit and were confident. And he liked his women to be fighters, giving as good as they got. That turned Bart on. His mouth quirked and he scowled. How the hell could he have known Dev was going to take his advances like that? Every other woman wanted his strength, his mastery, and wanted to be tamed by him. They liked being subjugated. And they all liked rough sex. So did he.
This morning, he had an interview with Blake Rivas, owner of Ace Trucking. In the military, he’d been in transportation and had driven the big trucks. A semi truck was no different. He could call upon those four years’ worth of skills and convince Rivas that he would be a damn good driver for his huge company. Bart was desperate to get a job. He’d purposely come to this town because Dev was here. A hard anger congealed in his gut. He was going to make her pay for what she’d done to him. Only this time, she wasn’t going to live to go to the police and hang his ass a second time around.
Sipping his coffee, watching the sunlight dance through the large picture windows that showed the busy square, he smiled to himself. First, he’d get a job. Then he’d rent an apartment. Lastly, but most important, he’d begin to shadow Dev and watch in order to learn her habits. Then he could plan to kidnap her. It would take time, but he was patient. Above all, Bart didn’t want to be connected to her murder when someone discovered Dev’s naked body tossed into the woods. In fact, he was planning on learning the grizzly territory around here, planning on letting one of them use her dead body as food. His smile widened as he thought about how his revenge would be set in motion and getting even with Dev. He could hardly wait to see the look in her eyes when he caught her, took her somewhere private, had his way with her, kept her chained up so she couldn’t escape. He would degrade her. Then, and only then, when he tired of her, would he get rid of her once and for all.
* * *
DEV TOOK A deep breath and rose from the seat in the outer office of the USFS superintendent’s office. The assistant smiled and gestured for her to go through the closed door for her first interview with Charlotte Hastings, her new boss. At her side was Bella, in her work uniform and harness as a working dog. She wore a lightweight nylon jacket that said Tracking Dog on it. Dev had placed the black nylon martingale harness across Bella’s broad chest and over her shoulders. Not liking a chain collar around her dog’s neck, Dev used a leather one that hung comfortably around Bella instead. She gripped the nylon leash and nodded her thanks to the assistant. Bella walked calmly at her side, alert.
She got her first look at her new boss. The fifty-year-old blond-haired woman in her Forest Service uniform sat at her large maple desk. The office was located on the second floor of the building, in a corner where large windows allowed in a lot of light. It was a beautiful place for an office, Dev thought as she closed the door and turned around to greet Charlotte.
“Come on in,” the woman called, smiling and standing. She moved from behind her desk and shook hands with Dev. “I’m Charlotte,” she said. “And this must be your tracking dog, Bella?” She reached down and patted the dog’s head.
“Yes, ma’am, it is,” Dev said.
Charlotte straightened and gestured to a chair at one corner of her desk. “Have a seat, Ranger McGuire.”
Dev took her seat and Bella sat down next to her. The HQ was parallel to the main highway that led into the park. A lot of cars moved slowly past the building because they’d just come out of paying the fee to enter the park. Across the way, Dev could see the newly built three-story visitor’s center opposite of the HQ. She pushed her left palm down her green trousers, getting rid of the dampness. Hastings sat down at her leather chair. Supervisors, she’d found over the years, came in many different stripes. It was rare that a woman was at the top post at a park. She didn’t know what the woman’s agenda would be, but she’d find out shortly. Her supervisor seemed efficient because there were a number of stacks of files on her desk. They weren’t messy, but rather organized.
“Ranger McGuire,” she said, folding her hands over Dev’s opened file, “you come to us highly recommended. We’ve been needing a tracker and tracking dog here for this park for some time now, so I’m personally glad to see you here.”
Dev felt some relief. At least she wasn’t going to get stuck in some office, away from the outdoors. Which could have happened. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, “I’m happy to be here, too.”
“Every year between May and October, we get at least fifty calls for lost children, elders or adults here in the Tetons.” Charlotte scowled. “And it takes a lot of my personnel halting their jobs to go off looking for these individuals.” Looking at Dev’s file, she said, “You and Bella have an excellent record of finding lost souls in the Smoky Mountains region. I see no reason why you won’t do as well here.”
“I anticipate we’ll be able to do the same here,” Dev said.
“Well,” Charlotte said, raising her head, “we have grizzly bears out here and the Smoky Mountains only have small black bears. There’s a huge difference between them. A dog barking at a black bear will send it running away.” She pointed at Bella. “If she barks here, the grizzly will take it as a challenge and go after your dog.”
It was a grim warning. “Bella doesn’t bark.”
“Not even when faced with an elk? A deer? Or a black bear?”
“No, ma’am.” Dev saw some relief in the superintendent’s blue eyes.
“Well,” she muttered, “I hope that’s true because grizzly bears hate dogs. They see them as a certified threat. That means if one sees you and the dog, they could stalk you or just outright charge you, Ranger McGuire.”
“I need to get up on grizzly behavior before I go out to track,” Dev agreed.
“You will carry the following on you whenever you’re tracking, Ranger. A rifle, a pistol, a quart of bear spray and a radio. We keep constant monitoring of the bears in this park for good reason. But there’s always new ones wandering into the area we don’t know about. On a given search for a lost person, you’re going to work closely with our bear-tracking unit. That way, you’re on top of where the bruins might be located. But on any given day, a grizzly can travel twenty miles to find food.” She wrote down a name on a piece of paper and pushed it across the desk to Dev. “This is the ranger you want to talk to about grizzly behavior. I’d suggest the next time he’s on watch, you introduce yourself to him if you can?”
Dev picked up the paper. The name scrawled across it was Sloan Rankin. Her heart pounded, underscoring her feminine reaction to him. “I’ll make a point of finding his schedule and talking to him, ma’am.”
“Good. Because it could save you and your dog’s lives. We ban dogs from this park for the very reason that the grizzly hate ’em. They interpret a dog as a wolf. And wolves are their natural enemy.”
“Got it,” Dev said, tucking the paper into the breast pocket of her long-sleeved uniform shirt.
“For the next two weeks, I’m putting you over at our newly built visitor’s center. You need to get acquainted with the tourists. We get them from around the world. Most are completely ignorant of the grizzly bears that populate the Tetons.”
Dev’s heart sank. She hated office duty. But Hastings was right: she had to see the type of people coming to the park, get to know them and understand the general lay of the land.
“Ranger Rankin is our farrier. He’s also been here for two years and knows every trail in the Tetons. I’m going to keep you on an abbreviated schedule at the visitor’s center. You’ll spend four hours over there on your shift, the other four hours working with Ranger Rankin. I’m paralleling his schedule with yours so that the other four hours you two can ride the trails. You need to get acquainted with them as soon as possible. I’ve already talked to him about being your mentor and helping you, earlier today. Before you were assigned here, he always headed up any searches via horseback, to look for lost tourists. Now I want him shadowing you on every tracking assignment for the next few months.”
Dev frowned. “Is this because of the grizzly threat?”
“Precisely. You will go nowhere without a partner on any of these assignments. Ranger Rankin will be carrying weapons also. He will be your guard should you encounter a grizzly. He’s your chief defense because I want you tracking and paying attention to your dog. You’ll be distracted if you have to divide your awareness between watching for a grizzly and trying to track a lost tourist.”
“That sounds like good common sense,” Dev agreed. She was glad it was Sloan. She liked him more than she should. He was someone who was calm and didn’t appear easily shaken up in a dangerous situation. Even though she wondered how Sloan had taken this assignment, Dev was sure she’d find out sooner or later. Did he feel like a glorified babysitter for her? Probably.
Charlotte pushed a paper toward Dev that had her next two weeks of shifts on it. “Now, since Ranger Rankin is our shoer, he’s usually pretty busy. We’ve gone over a trail planning session already and he knows where he has to take you. There are some areas where we have lost more tourists than others. So, he’ll be with you in those primary locations first. His office, if you can call it that, is over at the main barn. You might try to catch him there now, and make introductions.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Questions?”
Dev knew better than to overstay her visit to the boss’s office. “No, ma’am.”
Charlotte nodded, closing the file. “Welcome to the Tetons, Ranger McGuire. Stay safe out there.”
Rising, Dev saw Bella stand at her side. “Thank you, ma’am. I intend to do just that.”
Leaving the office, Dev felt better. The tension in her shoulders had bled off and even Bella looked a little more relaxed. Her dog instantly knew when she was upset. Stopping at another office on the first floor, Dev got a USFS truck assigned to her. It would be her wheels around the park from now on. Plus, it had a ball hitch on it so she could trailer her horse to where people went missing in the park.
After finding the truck parked outside the motor pool’s area of HQ, Dev signed off on it and put Bella on the passenger-side seat. As she climbed in, Dev noticed how the morning was warming up. She took off her dark brown nylon jacket and placed it between her and Bella. The sky was clear and it was looking like a nice day after last night’s rain. The air smelled intensely of pine and Dev smiled as she pulled the door shut. She rolled down the window because she wanted that cool, fresh air to circulate that heavenly fragrance within the cab of the truck. Even Bella was appreciatively sniffing the air.
She pulled out into traffic between tourists’ cars. The barn and corral area wasn’t far and Dev wondered if Sloan was around or not. She probably should have called his office but took a risk. Even if he wasn’t there, she wanted to check on Goldy and see if her mare was happy with her new digs. Pulling into the parking area in front of the green barn, Dev saw the doors were open at both ends to allow air to circulate through the barn. No one was around. Where was Sloan’s office? Probably inside. She got Bella out on her leash and they walked into the barn.
There was a door open halfway down on the left. Dev peeked in and saw Sloan sitting at a beat-up desk, busy doing paperwork. He looked up.
“Hey, good morning,” Sloan said, standing.
Dev was touched by his courtly manners. In some ways, Sloan reminded her of a knight from a bygone era. “How do you get away with not wearing a ranger’s uniform,” she teased, meeting his smile. Instantly, her heart beat a little harder and she felt heat flowing down through her, wrapping around in her chest.
“Lucky, I guess,” Sloan murmured, looking down at his Levi’s and his blue chambray work shirt. He had the long sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. “I assume you saw Charlotte?”
“Yes. She told me to look you up.”
He gestured to the chipped and old-looking aluminum chair off to one side. “Have a seat.”
Bella came in, wagging her tail, nosing around the desk to lick Sloan’s proffered hand. He petted the dog with genuine warmth.
Dev sat down, noticing how much Bella liked him. She was a friendly dog by nature, but she had favorite people, too. Obviously, Sloan was on her short list. She tried not to stare at him, but the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing off his lower arms. Rankin was nothing but pure muscle, but that wasn’t surprising given his job as a farrier. Hefting around a heavy hammer, dealing with metal, shaping it with his large hands and inherent strength, this all showed in the lean, ropy muscles that moved beneath the sprinkle of dark hair across his skin. The Levi’s fit him well and she saw he wore the same scarred old pair of boots as when she’d met him yesterday. There was a green USFS baseball cap hung up on a nail behind him. She saw the holster and pistol that rangers were to wear hung on another nail.
“Your office is hardly larger than a telephone booth,” she said, looking around. A naked lightbulb hung above the desk, the only light to the place.
Sitting down, Sloan said, “I’m not in here any more than I have to be.” He gestured to the papers in front of him. “I don’t like office work, either, but today’s the day to handle it.”
“You’d rather be outdoors.”
He grinned. “No secret there.”
Dev pulled out the shift schedule and pushed it across the desk to him. “Charlotte wants me to shadow you or vice versa for the next two weeks.”
Picking it up, he looked at it. “Yes. She nabbed me earlier this morning here in the barn, telling me what she wanted done to acclimate you and Bella.”
“Do you want to play babysitter?” Dev wondered aloud, crossing her legs and leaning back on the chair. There was a glitter in his blue eyes, most likely amusement. His mouth twitched as he looked up to regard her.
“Now, don’t go down that path, Dev. Charlotte’s worried that because you’ve never been assigned to grizzly country before, that you need a little watching and training is all. Besides, we can’t lose our tracker and her dog to a bear, can we? We just got you.” He chuckled. “Charlotte’s been beating her drum for someone like you for the past two years I’ve been here. She’s over the moon you’ve arrived.”
Bella laid her head in Dev’s lap and she petted her dog. “And how are you with having to teach me the ropes?”
“Hey,” Sloan joked, gesturing around his tiny office, “it’s better than being stuck in here in my telephone booth, don’t you think?”
Dev saw the laughter in his eyes, the wry curve of his mouth that made her go hot with longing. The man’s mouth was to die for. And she wondered what it would be like to kiss Sloan. His face was deeply tanned, with fine, feathered lines at the corners of his eyes, all proof of how much time he spent outdoors. Again, she felt that invisible sense of protection surround her. Bella felt it, too. The dog lifted her head, looking over at Sloan, who was putting all his papers into a drawer. So, Dev wasn’t imagining it. Yes, she felt safe in Sloan’s company. Maybe more than she should? Her heart liked being around this lanky farrier whose hands mesmerized her. Dev was sure if she told Sloan he had the most beautiful hands she’d ever seen it wouldn’t go over too well with him. Men didn’t consider themselves beautiful. She kept the remark to herself.
“How’s Goldy?” she asked.
“I got here at 6:00 a.m. and checked in on her,” Sloan said. “She was fine. I’m the one that feeds the horses stabled here. Goldy had finished her flake of timothy from yesterday and was more than ready for another one this morning. Why don’t you go on down and visit her while I finish up duties here? It’ll take me about ten more minutes. Then we’ll hitch up a trailer and load Rocky and Goldy, and then trailer them up to the first area where we get a lot of lost tourists.”
“Sounds good,” she said, rising. Bella was out the door first, as if knowing Dev was going to see Goldy. The dog tugged at her leash. Smiling, Dev knew her mare and Bella were the best of friends. She wondered where Mouse was at. Did Sloan leave him back at his apartment for the day?
Goldy had her nose pressed between the iron bars and nickered softly as Dev approached. Bella whined and leaped up on her rear legs, paws on the front of the sliding door to the stall, happily licking at Goldy’s velvety black nose. Dev positioned Bella at one side of the stall and like the good girl she was, she sat down. Bella knew when Dev gave a certain hand signal it meant stay and sit. Now, Dev could bring Goldy out and put her in the crossties to give her a brushing, clean her hooves, and the dog wouldn’t move from where she’d placed her.
Her heart lifted with silent joy as she led her buckskin mare to the crossties and hooked the panic snaps on either side of her red nylon halter. Goldy’s black mane had bits of cedar shavings in it, indicating she had lain down and rested at some point during the night. That was good, because two days of riding in a trailer was tiring for any horse. Grabbing her grooming kit from the tack room, Dev met Sloan on the way out.
“While you’re cleaning up Goldy,” he said, “I’m going to get the trailer hitched up.”
“Sounds good. Do we saddle them before putting them in the trailer?”
“Yes. But we’ll put the bridles on them once we arrive at the trailhead.”
Her heart wouldn’t settle down because Sloan had just given her an intent look. The sensation she’d felt was as if he was mentally photographing her. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather made her feel desired. And darned if her body wasn’t taking off and reacting favorably to that heated look. When he settled the Stetson on his head, it made him look like a cowhand, not a ranger. Trying to ignore her body and silly heart, she quickly cleaned up Goldy, who enjoyed all the attention.
They worked like a well-oiled team, which surprised Dev. She quickly saddled her mare and led her out of the barn, the bridle in her other hand. Rocky, the big gray gelding with the black mane and tail, was Sloan’s horse. He was a rangy horse like his owner, probably part Thoroughbred because he was a good sixteen hands high. Of course, Sloan was a tall man and needed a bigger horse than she did for her size. Rocky was just as placid as his master. Dev waited outside the barn, allowing Goldy to nibble at the grass poking up here and there. She liked to watch Sloan move. He was graceful in a masculine sort of way.
“How old is Rocky?” she called down the aisle.
“He’s ten,” Sloan replied, running a comb and unsnarling Rocky’s long, thick mane.
“Is he a USFS horse?”
Shaking his head, Sloan said, “No, he’s mine.”
“He’s a nice-looking animal.”
Grinning as he patted his horse’s long, slender neck, he said, “I’d like to think so. Can’t be a farrier and not be paying attention to the all-important conformation of a horse’s legs. He’s got near-perfect legs, but so does your mare.” He glanced in her direction. “Says something about your horse knowledge, Dev.”
Heat fled up Dev’s neck and into her face. She was blushing from his praise and the warm looks he gave her. Sloan finished grooming Rocky and unsnapped the gelding from the crossties. All the man had to do was lower that voice of his and Dev felt like he’d reached out and stroked her with one of those beautiful male hands. To say she was befuddled didn’t even begin to describe her body’s reactions to being around Sloan Rankin. He was amiable, genial even, but not being a flirt or trying to let her know that he liked her.
Dev was positive Sloan liked her. With a groan, she took Goldy to the trailer. Both doors were open and she led Goldy into her narrow stall and snapped her halter to the chain in front. Moving up to the compartment, she watched Sloan throw the halter lead across Rocky’s withers and cluck to him. The horse moved into the stall without hesitation and then stood quietly until Sloan got around to his side compartment to snap the lead to the trailer.
“That horse is used to hauling,” Dev said, impressed. Not many horses would just hop into a trailer without being led in by a person.
“Rocky doesn’t get upset about much,” Sloan assured her. “Kinda like me...” He stepped out and shut the door. Dev followed. She went to the rear and watched Sloan close and lock the rear barn doors.
“Ready?” he asked, meeting her gaze.
“Very. I’m excited to get out into these mountains.” Dev smiled a little, looking up at the massive peaks that were lined up in a row, north to south. “This is such a gorgeous place to work.”
“Sure is,” Sloan agreed, meeting her smile. “We’re going up to the Moose Lake area. Lots of tourists get up in that area and get lost. I have no idea why, but it’s a hot spot for us.”
Snorting to herself as she climbed in the cab of his truck, Dev thought Sloan was a hot spot for her!
As they drove northward on the main two-lane highway through the park, Dev couldn’t stop her curiosity about Sloan. She asked, “You have a sort of Southern drawl. Where were you born?” She saw him slant a glance in her direction and then return his attention to driving.
“I was born in the Allegheny Mountains of West Virginia,” he told her. “Place no one’s heard of, Black Mountain.” Opening his fingers on the wheel for a moment, he added, “Most people, when I tell them that, think I’m a hillbilly.”
Dev caught the amusement in the inflection of his voice. “Nothing wrong with that.”
He raised a brow. “No?”
“No. Why would you ask?” Dev felt him teasing her and she enjoyed watching the corner of his mouth curve upward a little.
“Curious as to how you would respond to the label.”
“Do most people catalog you because of it?” she asked. When he glanced at her, she saw thoughtfulness in his gaze. The man was easy to read. Unlike Bart Gordon, who always smiled, who always showered her with compliments, telling her how beautiful her hair was or how pretty her eyes were. It got so she hated to be in the same building with him.
“What does the word hillbilly bring up for you?” Sloan asked.
Shrugging, Dev petted Bella, who sat on the floor between her legs. “Actually, lucky, because they were born in rural parts of America. In more natural surroundings, rather than the big city or suburban areas.”
“And you weren’t born in nature?”
She grinned. “Technically, I was born in the suburbs of Casper, Wyoming, but out in back of our house there was nothing but fields that went on forever. I felt like I lived in nature.”
“So you’re a tough Wyoming-bred woman?”
The way his voice caressed her, Dev had to shake herself out of the sensation of warmth surrounding her. It was as if Sloan had invisibly embraced her. But he hadn’t. “I don’t know about tough,” she said, “but yes, I’m used to long winters.”
That brought a smile to his mouth. “Yes, you would be. Where I come from we have about three months, but then it starts warming up.”
“Did you learn your farrier trade from your father?”
“Yes, I did. You’re pretty astute.”
“I find in some families that skill is passed down.”
“So,” he mused aloud, giving her a quick look, “you’re a pretty observant woman. How did you get that way?”
“People interest me,” Dev admitted, hungry for this kind of intimate conversation to better explore Sloan. She didn’t look too closely at why.
“You’re an extrovert?”
“Mostly, although—” Dev looked out the window at the passing grassy meadows and the evergreens skirting around them “—I consider myself half and half. My mother is an introvert. My father is an extrovert. I think I got a little from both of them. What about you?”
“My pa and ma are both introverts, so I got a double dose of it.”
She smiled softly, absorbing his clean, rugged profile. There was nothing weak about Sloan Rankin. He was, in her book, a man’s man. “You like quiet, no crowds and not getting peopled to death daily. How on earth did you get into the Forest Service, then? Most of our duties, with a few exceptions, involve interfacing with the public on a daily basis.”
“They hired me for a couple of reasons. I don’t think it crossed their minds that I was a total introvert. I came out of the Army and was a combat assault–dog handler. Plus, my pa taught me to be a blacksmith, and they were looking for someone good with animals and who had farrier skills.” He smiled a little, slanting a look toward Dev. “Most of the time, I’m with animals, not humans. They never stress me. But put me on the visitor’s desk? Then I’m tensed up tighter than a riled copperhead.”
She chuckled. “So you were in the military?”
“I was. I guess I fit the profile of a dog handler at the testing phase and got shuttled out of basic and into dog training. Ended up with a few two-year-long deployments to Afghanistan with my boy Mouse.”
“Those had to be intense deployments,” Dev muttered, frowning. “Dangerous work every day.”
“It was. I wanted out of the Army after my four-year enlistment was up. My dog had a nervous breakdown of sorts. We got attacked on a hill with RPGs being thrown at us from three directions. My dog couldn’t handle it.” And then his mouth thinned. “None of us could, so the dog’s anxiety was merely a reflection of all of ours. He just showed it outwardly. The rest of us stuffed it deep down inside of us instead. Animals are more honest than most humans, I’ve found.”
Dev felt tension and grief surround Sloan for a moment, and then the sensation dissolved. It surprised her he would allow his feelings to show and wondered why. Did he trust her? Or was he that way with everyone? “I was in the Marine Corps for four years,” she admitted quietly. “I was a dog handler, too. Only I was out on deployments with bomb-sniffing dogs, not like what you did. Your kind of work was far more dangerous than mine.”
“So, you were in the Corps?”
“Now, you aren’t going to throw labels on me, are you, Sloan?” she teased a little, watching his shoulders come down to their normal position. Just talking about those dangerous deployments had tensed him up. Dev understood fully.
“Me? Nah. I believe in letting a person show me who they are through their actions, not their words. Still, I find it interesting we were both in the military and both dog handlers, although in different capacities.”
Moving her fingers across Bella’s sleek, golden head, Dev smiled softly. “I loved my work, but the heat was brutal. Bella here is my second dog. She got injured in a bomb blast and I got to take her with me after I got out.”
He scowled. “Were you injured, too?”
“Just shrapnel. Bella’s the one who took the real injury.” Dev held up her right arm. “The doctor picked out a bunch of shrapnel from my lower arm and shoulder. I’m good as new now. Bella took a big piece in her left shoulder. She develops a bit of a limp if we’re out tracking more than six hours. Other than that, she’s in no pain and is great at what she does.”
Sloan’s brows drew downward, his mouth flexing, as if unhappy. A powerful sense of protection washed over Dev and this time she knew it was from Sloan, how he was feeling toward her. Never had she felt this kind of a reaction from a man. She wondered if he was aware of it. Glancing at his profile, he seemed intent on driving. Oh, how humans hid things from one another. With an internal shake of her head, Dev knew full well she had been hiding her real feelings and reactions from the day that IED had gone off, sending her and Bella into the air, blown ten feet backward from the blast wave. Even now, her hearing wasn’t back to normal.
It had ruptured both her eardrums. And even Bella’s hearing wasn’t perfect, which was why the Marine Corps had released her.
“Well,” Sloan drawled, “I’m fairly sure you’re glossing over your time in the military. On any given night, I can have a nightmare and recall every last detail whether I want to or not.”