halting descent had Dylan squirming free. She reached for the newel post to keep her balance.
“ There you are.” Terrence was moving down the steps as fast as his prosthetic allowed. His gaze went from Dylan’s pale face to the oversized jacket she wore. He shot Sergeant Burke a probing look.
“ She’s fine,” Tobias assured him before Dylan could explain. “She’d fallen asleep in the little house out back.”
Terrence placed a large hand over her ice-cold one and squeezed it with palpable concern. “You could have frozen to death.” He hobbled closer, forcing Tobias to give up his ground as he cupped a hand under her elbow. “I’ll help you upstairs. Then you can call in sick today, which you probably will be, anyway.”
“ Wait.” She needed to give Tobias back his jacket. The cold rushed back into her bones as she shrugged it off.
He reached into the front pocket as she surrendered it, pulling out some balled-up fabric with a sheepish look. “Milly used this to find you.”
Her nightshirt. “Smart dog.” She tucked it out of sight, perturbed to think that Tobias had handled it.
“ I’ll lead PT today,” Tobias offered on his way to the door.
Terrence nodded. “You do that, Sergeant.”
Disappointment swirled through Dylan as Tobias let himself out, taking his warmth and sexy swagger with him.
She squashed it ruthlessly. A militia leader had more important things to consider than the chemistry between her and her newest NCO. It was just like the message on his T-shirt said: No one owed her anything—not because she had a medical degree, not because she’d served five years in the Army, and not because she was a disabled veteran.
If she wanted to stamp out injustice, she had to take the bull by the horns and fight for it the way her ancestor John Brown had.
***
Toby relaxed back into the armchair he ’d secured in advance of the other NCOs. Once again, he’d finished his designated job before anyone else, giving him time to scrub the flecks of paint from his hair, change his clothes, and still get the best seat in the command room. As the others tromped in, vying for a place to sit, Toby studied Dylan surreptitiously.
She looked like hell on the heels of her misadventure. And even though she ’d called in sick on Ashby’s advice, it was obvious she’d downed coffee all day instead of sleeping. Dark circles ringed her bloodshot eyes. Her hair, while glorious in hue and texture, hung down her back in an untidy ponytail. As she scribbled two words on the easel, underlining them three times, Toby’s scalp tightened. Ambush Tactics .
What the hell was this about?
He glanced at the XO, who was leaning against the desk, arms folded across his massive chest, looking tense. Dylan’s frenetic behavior clearly worried him.
Glancing sharply at the clock, Dylan jammed the lid back on her marker and swiveled toward the men. “Shall we start?”
The innate authority in her tone made the men fall quiet.
“Good. Let’s recite The Defender’s Creed , then.”
In one voice, they launched into what Toby had discovered was a ritual for them. Having merely glanced over the papers given to him on the first day, he pretended to mutter along under the XO ’s watchful eye.
“ …I accept that I am a pariah among some of my countrymen, and a quaint anachronism to others. I will not hold their ignorance against them. I will win, or die trying. I swear this creed before God, my family and my fellow citizens.”
Toby tried not to squirm.
When the recitation ended, Dylan gestured to the easel. “I’ve made a decision in regards to Saturday’s CPX.” She swept a silvery gaze over her leaders. “I know all of you have experience with ambushing enemy combatants. Some of you have even been ambushed by the enemy.” Her gaze rested briefly on Sergeant Lee. “But, as a former Army Ranger, Sergeant Burke has undoubtedly had the most training in executing an ambush. Am I
“ There you are.” Terrence was moving down the steps as fast as his prosthetic allowed. His gaze went from Dylan’s pale face to the oversized jacket she wore. He shot Sergeant Burke a probing look.
“ She’s fine,” Tobias assured him before Dylan could explain. “She’d fallen asleep in the little house out back.”
Terrence placed a large hand over her ice-cold one and squeezed it with palpable concern. “You could have frozen to death.” He hobbled closer, forcing Tobias to give up his ground as he cupped a hand under her elbow. “I’ll help you upstairs. Then you can call in sick today, which you probably will be, anyway.”
“ Wait.” She needed to give Tobias back his jacket. The cold rushed back into her bones as she shrugged it off.
He reached into the front pocket as she surrendered it, pulling out some balled-up fabric with a sheepish look. “Milly used this to find you.”
Her nightshirt. “Smart dog.” She tucked it out of sight, perturbed to think that Tobias had handled it.
“ I’ll lead PT today,” Tobias offered on his way to the door.
Terrence nodded. “You do that, Sergeant.”
Disappointment swirled through Dylan as Tobias let himself out, taking his warmth and sexy swagger with him.
She squashed it ruthlessly. A militia leader had more important things to consider than the chemistry between her and her newest NCO. It was just like the message on his T-shirt said: No one owed her anything—not because she had a medical degree, not because she’d served five years in the Army, and not because she was a disabled veteran.
If she wanted to stamp out injustice, she had to take the bull by the horns and fight for it the way her ancestor John Brown had.
***
Toby relaxed back into the armchair he ’d secured in advance of the other NCOs. Once again, he’d finished his designated job before anyone else, giving him time to scrub the flecks of paint from his hair, change his clothes, and still get the best seat in the command room. As the others tromped in, vying for a place to sit, Toby studied Dylan surreptitiously.
She looked like hell on the heels of her misadventure. And even though she ’d called in sick on Ashby’s advice, it was obvious she’d downed coffee all day instead of sleeping. Dark circles ringed her bloodshot eyes. Her hair, while glorious in hue and texture, hung down her back in an untidy ponytail. As she scribbled two words on the easel, underlining them three times, Toby’s scalp tightened. Ambush Tactics .
What the hell was this about?
He glanced at the XO, who was leaning against the desk, arms folded across his massive chest, looking tense. Dylan’s frenetic behavior clearly worried him.
Glancing sharply at the clock, Dylan jammed the lid back on her marker and swiveled toward the men. “Shall we start?”
The innate authority in her tone made the men fall quiet.
“Good. Let’s recite The Defender’s Creed , then.”
In one voice, they launched into what Toby had discovered was a ritual for them. Having merely glanced over the papers given to him on the first day, he pretended to mutter along under the XO ’s watchful eye.
“ …I accept that I am a pariah among some of my countrymen, and a quaint anachronism to others. I will not hold their ignorance against them. I will win, or die trying. I swear this creed before God, my family and my fellow citizens.”
Toby tried not to squirm.
When the recitation ended, Dylan gestured to the easel. “I’ve made a decision in regards to Saturday’s CPX.” She swept a silvery gaze over her leaders. “I know all of you have experience with ambushing enemy combatants. Some of you have even been ambushed by the enemy.” Her gaze rested briefly on Sergeant Lee. “But, as a former Army Ranger, Sergeant Burke has undoubtedly had the most training in executing an ambush. Am I
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