Taking Cover (Wingmen Warriors 2)

"Definitely Sleepy."

"Yep." That niggled at her. Why? "Oh. Remember. Concussion. Wake me every two hours."

His arms tightened around her. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Her mouth formed the automatic reply, "I can take care of myself."

Since she couldn't squelch the need to assert herself, her brains must not be as rattled as she feared. Reassured, she nestled closer and simply enjoyed inhaling the scent of soap, leather. And Tanner. "Every two hours. Wake … me…"

"Kathleen? Kathleen! Two-hour check. Come on, Doc, wake up or I'm gonna toss you over my shoulder, kick some coyote butt, and hike out of this desert."

Tanner's insistent voice pierced Kathleen's foggy need to sleep. She peeled open her gritty eyes. Tanner loomed over her as she lay on…

A dusty church pew. How long had she been out?

As she tried to sit up, the dust stirred.

"Achoo!" A sneeze ripped through her. Exploded through her head. Brought tears to her eyes.

"A-a-choo! Ow!" The second sneeze almost took her to her knees, but she held up a hand to keep Tanner from launching into some nursemaid scenario. "I'm okay. Honestly. I'm definitely awake now."

"If you're sure," he said, skepticism infiltrating his tone.

Over his shoulder, she looked around the stark mission. A barren altar table listed to one side. Nooks for statues gaped empty. Moldy whitewash peeled from the walls. No doubt it was a decrepit mess, but the chapel echoed with a majestic peace beyond what could he found in a cathedral full of golden icons.

Kathleen elbowed up, and the world stayed blessedly still, no quivering ceiling. Nausea tickled but didn't overwhelm.

A yard away, a small fire crackled from the middle of a circle of stones. Smoke curled up through a jagged hole in the roof.

Crouching in front of her, Tanner palmed her back until she sat up. "How's the stomach?"

"Better."

He peered into her eyes until he apparently saw enough to reassure himself. "Good."

Kathleen pointed to the fire. "Looks like you've been busy."

"I scrounged up a few supplies to get us through the night. If the pickets run out, we can toss on some creosote brush. It'll smoke like a son of a gun, but we won't freeze. I also carved up another cactus. No luck with food, though. We should easily make town tomorrow. As long as we stay hydrated, finding food's not a concern for now."

The thought of eating caused her stomach to roil anyway. "The fire's great. You get an A plus in survival skills, Captain."

"Those coyotes out front limited our options."

Coyotes. She couldn't stop the shudder tripping through her as she thought of Tanner outside with the coyotes while she'd slept. She hadn't been much of a partner. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I checked you a couple of hours ago. Since you chewed me out, I figured that constituted as a wake-up. Then two more hours now." He bared his wrist and tapped his watch. "I set the alarm."

The numbers glowed—11:54. Almost midnight. "What a way to spend Christmas."

"I've had worse."

Uh-oh.

She remembered his worst Christmas well. Last time they'd talked about his sister, Kathleen had flung herself at Tanner like some sex-starved woman. Which she was. And weak. Man, was she feeling weak from more than the lingering effects of a bump on the head.

Yet, how could she turn him away if he needed to talk? He'd listened to her morbid tale about her ex. Tanner had far more reason to grieve than she.

And she wanted to hear, to help, to understand him.