Lindsay McKenna by High Country Rebel Page B

knife and fork to cut into the roast. The food smelled heavenly and his stomach growled.
    Cat sat in the chair, a tray across her lap. She didn’t want Talon eating alone at dinnertime. It had been Gus who suggested she keep him company. Of course, she couldn’t argue.
    “Not much to tell,” she murmured. Zeke thumped his tail as Talon gave him a piece of cooled meat. The smile that came to Talon’s face made her melt. He looked so different from the hard, focused man she had seen before. When he lifted his chin, those gray eyes focused on her, Cat felt that pull, that euphoria. It was as if she were wrapped in light, held, loved. Loved? Cat slowly set her flatware on her tray, confused by her senses.
    “Where were you born?” Talon saw her cheeks flush and she avoided direct eye contact. Why?
    Zeke whined.
    Talon pulled his gaze off Cat and patted the dog’s head.
    “I was born near Cheyenne, Wyoming,” she said simply.
    Talon sampled the beef, closing his eyes and savoring the hot, delicious food. It had been two months of walking from San Diego to Wyoming, on foot with Zeke, to reach home. He hadn’t eaten well but had made sure Zeke was properly fed. The meal on his lap was a banquet. A feast of unimaginable proportions. And it all smelled so good.
    “What did your parents do?” he asked casually, hoping to defuse the wariness in her eyes.
    Cat frowned and pushed her food around on the plate. From the quiet way Talon asked the question, she could tell he cared. But it was like stirring up a toxic waste dump from her past, the last place she wanted to go. She’d spent the past ten years of her life distancing herself from it, from him, her father. She never wanted to go back to that time. Now Talon was forcing her to and she was resistant.
    “My father worked as a wrangler on a ranch,” she mumbled.
    “Your mom?”
    “She died when I was ten.” She glanced up and gave him a sympathetic look. “Breast cancer.”
    Talon scowled. “I’m sorry.” He could see the tension on her face. “Listen, if I’m being too nosy just tell me to back off.” Because he had no desire to bring pain to Cat. God knew he carried enough in him.
    Cat shrugged. “My childhood wasn’t pretty and I don’t like talking about it.”
    Okay...well, that answered some of his questions. “How did you get interested in being a firefighter and paramedic?” he asked instead. Maybe that was safer ground for Cat. Some of the fear left her eyes. She started eating again.
    “I always wanted to be one since I could remember. I went to college in Cheyenne and took Fire Science.” She didn’t want to tell him how much she struggled with reading. Or the nights spent with a teacher who helped her catch up. “When I graduated, I came here, to Jackson Hole, and got a job.”
    Talon nodded, enjoying her as she relaxed. “Are there any other women on the fire department?”
    “I’m the only one.”
    “You picked a tough career.”
    “No man is going to tell me what I can or can’t do in my life.”
    Talon heard the steel grit behind her words. She was frowning, paying attention to eating, not looking up at him. Yeah, he’d sensed a toughness in her, like Kevlar plate armor. It wasn’t that obvious, because he’d been privy to her paramedic side, the healer—not the firefighter. “I imagine some of the men didn’t want you in their ranks, thought you couldn’t perform the physical work.”
    “That’s for sure,” Cat said. “Lieutenant Matt Sinclaire, though, gave me a chance. Half the department didn’t want me. The other half was okay with it. I’d taken all the physical tests and passed them with flying colors.” Cat smiled a little and held Talon’s interested gaze. “I’m not exactly petite, as you can see. I’m five foot ten inches tall and strong. I can pull a two-and-a-half inch hose filled with water just as well as any man. I’m not even the smallest firefighter, either. Steve, who is twenty-seven and near