Page 37 of Bravo

“Well, that’s not my fault.”

I let out a breath in frustration. “If you had waited for me, we could have gone together.”

“You’re here now.”

“Except the UTV is dead, and now we might freeze to death.” I shake my head and survey the storm outside the shed.

“Look, I—” She hisses in pain, and I whirl on her, all anger draining from me in an instant as I take in the sight of her favoring her right leg.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s just a sprain,” she insists. “I tripped over the downed wire.”

But even as she says it, I’m already kneeling down at her feet and lifting the leg of her flannel pajama pants. Blood has crusted to her skin, thanks to a gash about three inches long on her shin. “You’re cut, too. Come over here and sit.” I guide her carefully away from the horses just in case they get scared. Last thing I want is to add a trampling to tonight’s bingo card.

Then I rush back over and grab both the med bag Dad gave me and the one she had. After opening it up, I clean the area with iodine and wrap it with white gauze. “You said your ankle is sprained?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t put much weight on it.”

“You shouldn’t have gone after them. The horses could’ve waited until the morning.”

“Rev could have died.”

“He would’ve been fine until we could get to him.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I wasn’t going to risk it. Not when I didn’t know how badly he was injured.”

“No, you’ll just risk your own life even though you’re no good to them dead.”

Her jaw tightens, and I sense she’s holding back. Whether it’s out of respect for me as her employer or something else, I’m not sure. But she clenches her hands into fists at her sides. “Fine. But I’m not sorry for what I did.”

I glare down at her. “You will be if it kills us.”

CHAPTER 13

KENNEDY

Why did he follow me? Why didn’t he just stay back? I knew it was a risk running out here, but I just didn’t think much about it past that. The animals needed me, and risking my own life didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but with Bradyn out here? What if he freezes to death? Or gets sick?

I take in what I can see of him given the flashlight beam illuminating the loafing shed. The dark strands of hair peeking out from beneath his beanie are matted to the side of his head. His cheeks are bright red, his gaze full of frustration. His stormy expression rivals the one that chased us into this small shelter.

“We can’t head out yet,” he tells me, tone clipped. “Especially since you can’t walk.”

“Agreed.” I lean back against the far wall of the loafing shed. “If you just give me a minute, I’ll be ready.”

“You need longer than a minute,” he snaps.

He leans down in front of the medical bag I’d taken from the pile of salvaged supplies we’d grabbed out of the barn once the horses were out. Rummaging through it, he withdraws a fire starter kit and a small zippered pouch.

“Here.” He tosses me the pouch without looking in my direction.

I take it and unzip it, surprised and relieved to find an emergency thermal blanket inside.

Bradyn moves to the far side of the shed then takes some of the old straw on the ground and pushes it into a pile, carefully ensuring he leaves a gap of dirt around the outside of the pile. Then, he crouches down and prepares to strike a match to the bottom of the fire starter kit.

“Is that such a good idea? Won’t the flames scare them after what they went through?”

He glares up at me. “It might, but we don’t know how long we’ll be here, and freezing to death seems like a bigger risk at the moment.” Without waiting for a rebuttal, he strikes the match, and it crackles to life as he sets it in the straw pile.

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