Hidden Flames (29 page)

“It doesn’t look like anyone has been here.” Prue peered into the darkened window, but the place was deserted. The small overhang hadn’t done a thing to keep the ash away from the entrance and the residue remained untouched. Owen held up a finger for her to remain quiet as he opened the door and cautiously walked inside. She looked over her shoulder out of habit from their road trip, seeing nothing and no one. By the time she turned back around Owen’s weapon was lowered to the ground and his gasmask in hand. “Nothing.”

Prue removed her mask as well, hating that she was slightly relieved at the fact that Rosa’s adoptive parents hadn’t arrived yet, not liking what that said about her. She wanted a little more time with her newly reunited sister before their time was interrupted by her other family. She wasn’t asking for much and yet every minute that passed without their presence signified that they weren’t going to make it. She really needed therapy.

“It makes you human, Prue,” Owen reassured her after he’d checked the entire diner for any sign that someone had been here. How had he known about the guilt that was eating away at her? “Just as it makes me greedy to think that this catastrophe wasn’t so bad if it brought you into my life in a manner more than what we were before the eruption. Thousands upon thousands of people died when Yellowstone exploded and yet there are things that I’m still thankful for. We didn’t make this happen. We’re just making the best of what we have here, Prue. You and I are only human, sweetheart.”

Prue wrapped her arms around Owen after he’d adjusted his rifle and held him tight, indebted to him in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that he brought her here to this safe haven. It was because he understood her and accepted her for who she was, which was amazing in and of itself. She wasn’t the easiest person to get along with and she sometimes needed her own space, but that didn’t faze him in the least. It was as if he was made for her…her soul mate.

“Let’s hit the clinic before driving the trucks over to the garage,” Owen suggested, running a soothing hand up and down her back. On the turn of a dime she was now happy that she wasn’t wearing a jacket as his heat soaked through. “It’s right across the street. It’ll be like Christmas, ash fall and all.”

“Always trying to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

Prue pulled away and slid the straps over her head, feeling vulnerable without her cap. She’d left it in the truck. It would have been pointless to wear it around town when she removed her mask every time they entered a building. She glanced around the small diner, thinking she would have really liked it here when the town was thriving during tourist season. Hard to believe that was only a few weeks ago.

“Charlie 1 Whiskey, moving across to the waypoint Bravo to collect our second objective.”

“Why not just say we’re going to the clinic?” Prue asked, stepping back out into the dreary residue behind Owen. He delayed for a brief moment, looking in both directions and then crossing the street. “It’s a two-way radio, isn’t it?”

“Anyone with this type of radio can hear what we have to say if they’re using the same hop set,” Owen replied, walking at a more normal pace all the while maintaining vigilance. Prue wanted to say that maybe he was taking things too far, but she recognized the need for caution. An empty town like this was unnerving and she could swear the windows to the buildings were eyes trailing them wherever they went. “No need to give them our location if they don’t have it already.”

Prue caught sight of movement out of her peripheral vision as they stepped up on the curb. It was Jason Wicks crossing the road a block down, apparently scoping out the backside of the buildings. Owen led Prue to the glass door of the clinic. It was apparent that someone had planted some flowers in the flowerbed, but they were now drooping under the weight of the ash.

“Mav and Henley cleaned out as much of the medication and medical supplies as they could, but they didn’t seem to remember any of the extra oxygen tubes,” Owen said, fishing out the keys that he’d been given. He unlocked the door but then didn’t open it, causing Prue to wonder what he was waiting for until he spoke into the two-way radio. “Charlie 1 Whiskey, are you in position?”

“Affirmative.” Prue hadn’t seen Dean since they’d parted ways at the vehicles, but he hadn’t been with Jason when the young man went around the back of the clinic. She looked around the town but couldn’t locate him. “Proceed.”

“Where is he?”

Prue followed Owen inside the small clinic, not receiving a quick reply. It made her think that Dean had somehow made his way into the clinic and would be waiting for them. The smell of isopropyl alcohol hit her the moment she took off her mask, causing her to scrunch her nose. She hated the antiseptic odor that was attached to hospitals and places such as this.

“He’s on the roof of one of the buildings, looking at us through the sight of his scope.” Owen spoke as if that was a common occurrence. Whatever the reason Dean had chosen to be up on top of a building, his position actually made Prue feel a little better. She was starting to become rather paranoid and having Dean watch their surrounding area from up above gave a peace of mind. “I’ll search the back for those oxygen tubes if you want to take the rooms.”

“They’re called nasal cannulas,” Prue replied automatically. Owen looked at her over his shoulder as he walked down the hallway and it dawned on her that he didn’t make the connection. She was well versed in the parts of portable oxygen tanks because her mother had been on it the last six months of her life. “Look for some oxygen masks too, just in case she wants to switch back and forth between the two options when she sleeps.”

Owen gave her a thumbs up signal that he understood and disappeared down the hallway. Prue went through each room, going through every drawer and cabinet she could find. Mav and Henley had done a good job in obtaining everything they could get their hands on and moving the supplies up to the lodge. She’d searched everywhere and came up with nothing.

“Got them, along with a ton of other supplies that were in back. Mav had mentioned there was a room or two with supplies that they hadn’t gotten around to transporting,” Owen announced walking down the hallway. “Jason is going to pull one of the trucks around the back and start loading up what he can while we take ours over to the garage. Dean will keep an eye on the streets and alert us to any possible incoming threat.”

They suited back up before Owen opened the door and exited the clinic, waiting for her to join him. Prue was wearing her side holster, but she was definitely more comfortable with the knives that were given to her. The way she had slung her rifle across her back made it useless if she needed it in a hurry. It wasn’t long before they were back in the truck and headed toward the garage. It was on the other end of town, past the Lost Summit Inn and the post office. It was on a slight rise on the other side of the community center; a simple two-pump gas station. They were located to the south of the garage. An old-fashioned paddle wheel operated mill stood across the street next to the river. The wheel continued to turn in spite of having no grist to grind.

“Pretty smart putting the garage and gas station next to the only crossroad in town,” Prue said, wiping the palm of her hand down her jeans. She’d gotten some of the residue on her hands when she’d opened the truck door, much to Owen’s displeasure. He gave her that sideways look when he helped her into the passenger seat, like she shouldn’t open her own door. She had to admit it was nice that he would want to do that for her, especially considering she wasn’t all that old-fashioned. It gave her a little reminder that he wanted to care for her and she could definitely live with that. “I’m surprised you didn’t move here when your time was up in the service.”

“I contemplated it a time or two, but I grew up in Florida. I wanted the bike shop and putting one here was a nonstarter.” Owen maneuvered the vehicle so that the bed of the truck faced the doublewide garage door and then shifted the gear into park. “I know the greater Daytona area like the back of my hand and it seemed natural to stay there after I got out. Mav has been talking about moving up this way for a while. I thought maybe I would do the same after he put the wheels into motion, but the business was growing so steadily and I didn’t want to give that up. Besides, I’m not so sure Gage Dorian is ready to sell the only garage in town quite yet.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” Prue asked, looking out the windshield in front of them to where the mill sat. The landscape in front of them was covered with a thin layer of ash for as far as one could see. It was grey and gloomy when it had no doubt been so beautiful before. “We’re here now and owning a business anytime in the foreseeable future is the least of our worries. How long do you think it will be before we are even remotely close to living the way we were before?”

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe never.” Owen reached over and then brought her hand up to his warm lips, pressing a kiss to her cool skin. “But I’m not worried. We have each other, we’re surrounded by friends and family, and we know what it takes to survive.”

Owen leaned over the seat to retrieve his rifle and his gasmask. Turning back, he cupped her face and brushed his lips across hers. He never once looked away from her when he did it, causing the windows to slightly fog over as the heat rose within the cab of the truck. He had a knack for being able to turn the most innocent conversations into something meaningful.

“I don’t think you can comprehend how much you mean to me,” Owen whispered in need, his penetrating gaze searching her face for something that she wasn’t sure how to put into words. Prue’s heartbeat stalled along with her breathing as she waited for him to say what was in his eyes. “Prue, I—”

“Echo 5 Quebec, are you going to sit in that cab all day or actually get some work done?” Dean’s irritation came through the two-way radio loud and clear.

“Looks like we need to get our asses in gear,” Prue said with an undecided laugh that made her sound nervous. She wasn’t. Not at all. She could handle whatever Owen said to her. “Let’s go get my early Christmas gifts.”

Prue was out of the passenger side before Owen could open his door. She’d left her mask and rifle inside the cab; no reason for putting it on when they were going to be inside sorting through what to bring up to the lodge. She waited for him by the front door of the garage, hoping he wouldn’t say anything to make this moment awkward. She didn’t do well with telling people how she felt and this wasn’t the time or place anyway. Dean was waiting on some rooftop and Jason would be done with his task soon, joining them to haul some heavy items into the back of the trucks.

“Your birthday is in a month,” Owen commented in a way that made her realize he was aware of her procrastination. “I’ll have to steal some Dr. Pepper from the shelves before you get your hands on all of it. Remind me to stop in the card section to get a Hallmark and a pretty pink bow.”

Prue flipped him off with her finger, liking this equal footing a lot better than the
lay my heart at your feet
moments. Owen laughed as they walked inside, the familiar scents of the garage washing over them. Prue purposefully breathed it in, not knowing if she’d get another chance to be in here anytime soon.

“Take a look around while I walk around the perimeter,” Owen said, tossing her the keys as he headed for the back of the garage. “Dean can only get a visual on the west side and front of this place.”

Owen didn’t have to go into detail about the reason why. Prue had already mentioned that this was the entrance and exit of the town, so the other side of the building is where there would be any tracks made by an animal, person, or vehicle. She let him go, her gaze already drawn to the tools and equipment she spotted around the maintenance bay. The collection of mostly Snap-On tools was impressive for such a small town shop. She planned to take everything she could fit into the back of Henley’s truck.

Prue had just set her foot on the hydraulic lift when the back door crashed back open, startling her to turn and almost fall. Owen was barking her name, causing a shot of adrenaline to go through her at the emergency lacing his tone. She started to flee his direction when someone yanked her back, causing a sharp pain to volley down her neck.

“Reach for any of those knives of yours, you little fucking bitch, and I’ll blow your head completely off.”

“I
f your finger
so much as twitches on that trigger, I’ll drop you like a hot fucking rock.” Owen had already drawn his holstered weapon and had it aimed at Deacon’s head before Prue had even realized who had just gotten the upper hand. Her frightened and angry gaze met his, letting him know that she was ready to finish this. “You’re not that smart, are you, Deacon? You could have tried crossing into Mexico and been drinking tequila until you swallowed that worm at the bottom of the bottle.”

“You left me for dead, soldier boy!”

Deacon’s manic words didn’t just reverberate off the walls—they recoiled. It was more than apparent that the unstable man standing behind Prue was fighting some type of infection. There was sweat beading down the side of his face, his eyes were gleaming with fever, and the trembling of his hands was causing Owen to want to pull his trigger before he dropped Prue by mistake. Mason was their most accurate firearms expert shot and the way Deacon kept shifting Prue against him…Owen wasn’t so sure even he could have been able to drop this tango without catching her in the crossfire.