“No, thanks. I’ve had enough grizzly interruptus too many times when I’m tracking. I like to stay away from them. They’re big and they’re fast.”
He held up his bandaged arm. “Tell me about it.”
She liked his black humor. “You were lucky.”
“No luck at all. I had the situation under control.” Well, almost. If not for Storm charging the grizzly and biting the bear’s nose, he wouldn’t have gotten the second shots to kill the charging beast.
“Yeah, right.” Her mouth twitched. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t.”
Shelby frowned. “You have to stay here for the night, Mr. Carson. Or go home with me.”
He sat up, his head clear. The nausea was ebbing. “Bull. I’m leaving....” He threw off the blankets and gave her a look that warned her not to stop him.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHELBY WATCHED DAKOTA Carson get up, unsteadily at first. His calves were knotted, which told her what good a shape he was in. He calmly removed the IV because he knew how to do it and dropped the needle and tube back on the gurney.
“Your clothes are kept in that locker room,” she said, pointing to a door on the left. “Probably got your last name on one of the lockers so you can find them.”
He stopped and studied her. Something about Shelby intrigued him. “You’re smart.”
“I’m field smart, Mr. Carson.”
His mouth twitched. Yeah, she was damned smart for not getting in his way. “If you were a man, you’d rear up on your balls and try to stop me.”
“I have a titanium set, but I choose my battles very carefully.”
His mouth drew into a sour smile. “You ever been in the military?”
“No.”
“Shoulda been.” He turned and walked slowly but surely toward the door.
Shelby wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult. She waited until he was gone and called Jordana McPherson. By the time she arrived, looking upset, Dakota Carson was coming out the door, fully clothed. When he saw Jordana, he glanced over at Shelby.
“I called her,” Shelby said.
“Yeah, I remember. You pick your battles.”
Smiling, Shelby nodded.
“Dakota?” Jordana called.
“No sense in trying to talk me out of leaving this place, Doc. You know I can’t handle closed-in spaces. I’ll just be on my way.”
Jordana shoved her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat, giving him a pleading look. “There’s a high probability of infection after a bite like this, Dakota. I’ve written you a prescription for antibiotics, but I’m worried. Usually, if there is infection, it’s going to hit you in the first twenty-four hours after the operation. That’s why I wanted you to stay overnight for observation. If you could agree to stay at Shelby’s, her house is only a block from this hospital, I wouldn’t worry so much. Please...”
Halting, Dakota studied the deputy. Oh, he’d like to go home with her, all right. For all the wrong damn reasons. “No.”
Jordana reached out, her fingers wrapping around his right arm. “Dakota, you have to! That’s a bad wound. You’re a combat medic and you know the drill. If you could just stay overnight and let me give you an antibiotic IV drip? One night, and drop by and see me tomorrow morning to check it. I’ll feel better.”
“Sorry, Doc, but I gotta go....” He shook off her hand. Glancing at the deputy, he growled, “Now?” Dakota expected the deputy to try to stop him.
Shelby stepped aside. “Timing’s everything.”
Walking slowly by her, Dakota got his bearings and moved toward the elevator. Neither woman made an attempt to stop him.
The elevator doors whooshed closed. Jordana gave Shelby a desperate look. “He shouldn’t leave.”
“I know,” she muttered. “Give me his prescription and I’ll get it filled and make sure he has it before he drives off. I’ll follow him at a safe distance.”
“Can’t you talk some sense into him?” Jordana handed her the prescription.
With a sour laugh, Shelby said, “He calls me Deputy Barbie Doll. Do you really think I have any sway over him?”
“Hardly.” Scratching her head, Jordana groused, “Unbelievable.”
“Is that SEAL behavior?” Shelby asked, walking with her to the elevator.
“No. It’s his PTSD, Shelby. He’s got a very bad case of it. Closed-in places throw him into deep anxiety. He prowls around like a caged lion if he can’t escape.” Jordana added, “I feel so bad for him. He’s a decorated vet, with the silver star and two purple hearts. But he just won’t come in for weekly therapy.”
The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. “I’ll see what I can do,” Shelby said. “But no promises.”
“He’s been out on that mountain for a year, Shelby,” Jordana said in a softer voice. “Alone. And he’s unable to socialize, to fit back into society. It’s as if he’s still in combat mode and he can’t do anything about it.”
“I saw him struggling earlier,” Shelby murmured. The doors opened to the main floor of the hospital. Walking out, she turned to the right. “There he is.”
“Get those antibiotics for him and follow him,” Jordana said, touching her shoulder. “He’s a vet. He’s earned our help even if he doesn’t want it.”
Mouth quirking, Shelby shrugged into her coat. “He fights everyone. All the time, whether he should or not.”
“Good luck.”
She’d need it. Shelby watched him walk gingerly down the hall toward the main exit sliding glass doors. He didn’t look over his shoulder, although she watched him operating like a predator on the hunt. Dakota Carson missed nothing, his gaze swiveling one way and then the other. He might have just come out of anesthesia, but the man was alert. Jordana was right: he was operating in combat mode. He might be in the U.S., but his mind and emotions were still in Afghanistan.
Dakota made it to his truck. He fished the keys out of his pocket. Two parking spaces down was the Tetons sheriff’s cruiser. Storm was looking out the window at him, wagging her big, fluffy gray tail. He smiled and felt a sense of safety. When he looked up, he saw the blond deputy crossing the street to where he was. She stopped and handed him an orange prescription bottle.
“The doctor wanted you to take this antibiotic,” she said. Their fingers touched momentarily. An unexpected warmth moved up his arm, which aggravated him. He stuffed the bottle into