Now that the other Keepers had found out what she was working on, some often joined her, offering practice and encouragement. But it was Bert who was by her side each time.
Once, as they left the gym together, she caught sight of their reflection in the mirrored wall. Bert walked beside her wheelchair, both of them sweaty and tired and smiling. They looked like a team. Like people who belonged together.
And Mary realized that was exactly what they were becoming.
Now, she poured a cup of coffee, added the splash of cream she preferred, and was just double-checking to see that everyone’s tablets had the latest information when she heard the rumble of vehicles outside. Right on time. The sound of truck doors slamming and boots on the pavement filtered through the building, followed by the low murmur of the Keepers’ voices punctuated by the occasional laugh.
The door opened, and they filed in, bringing with them the scent of cold air. Sisco came first, his dark hair still damp from a shower, grinning when he spotted the coffee. “Mary, you’re an angel. I overslept and didn’t have time to make any at the bunkhouse.”
“That’s because you stayed up until two playing poker with Devlin,” Frazier said, shaking his head with mock disapproval. The former SEAL grabbed his own cup and took a long drink, sighing with satisfaction.
“And I won, so it was worth it,” Sisco countered, unrepentant.
Devlin came through next, followed by Cole, Timothy Clemons, and Dalton Dolby. Casper slipped in with his usual silent grace, and Mary still couldn’t quite get used to how the man moved without making a sound. Aldo Caspani had earned his codename honestly. But he nodded at her with something that might have been warmth in his dark eyes, and she counted that as progress. Casper didn’t give his trust easily, but over the months, she’d seen him relax with the team.
Cory Brighton was right behind him, the former CIA operative and expert marksman who’d arrived on a motorcycle and somehow convinced Logan to hire him on the spot. He had a quiet confidence that Mary appreciated, and they’d bonded over their shared love of organization and detailed planning.
Landon Sommers, the former FBI agent who’d left the bureau to join Logan’s team, grabbed a cup and immediately started reviewing the information on the tablet Mary had set out. He had a methodical approach to everything that reminded Mary of herself, and they’d developed an easy working relationship.
Sadie Hargrove was almost the last to arrive, followed very closely by Todd. She was the only other woman on the team, and Mary had been thrilled to have another female presence in the male-dominated environment. Sadie was brilliant with computers and cybersecurity, quiet but fiercely competent. The two women were on their way to becoming friends. Although Sadie had never divulged what had happened between her and Todd, Mary was certain there was a story there. But until Sadie was ready to talk about it, Mary just watched with interest.
Out of all the Keepers, it was Bert who captured Mary’s attention, as he always did. He came through the door with Logan, the two of them deep in conversation about something equipment-related. Bert’s hair was slightly windblown, wearing jeans that fit his lean muscles and a dark-green Henley that did absolutely nothing to hide the breadth of his shoulders.
Mary’s heart did a flip-flop… the one she’d given up trying to control months ago. Months of working closely with Bert Tomlinson had done nothing to diminish her awareness of him. If anything, it had gotten worse. Or better, depending on how she looked at it.
He glanced up as he reached for a coffee cup, and their eyes met. The smile that crossed his face was warm and genuine, the kind that crinkled the corners of his blue eyes and made something in Mary’s chest feel both tight and expansive at the same time.
“Morning, Mary,” he said, his deep voice carrying easily across the room. “You’re here early again.”
“Someone has to make sure you all get your caffeine fix,” she replied, pleased that her voice came out light and teasing rather than breathless, which was how she felt whenever he smiled at her like that.
The morning briefing took place in the lower-level operations center, where everyone gathered around a large table while Logan reviewed the day’s assignments. Mary answered questions about supply orders and scheduling and coordinated with Bert on an equipment delivery expected that afternoon. It was routine, comfortable, and she loved every minute of it.
But she was also acutely aware of the dynamics in the room, the unspoken questions that had been present since her first day and would likely always be. She caught the occasional glance, saw the way some of the newer Keepers watched her navigate the space. These were former service members who’d spent their careers in physically demanding roles, who’d survived because they could run fast, climb walls, and carry heavy gear over rough terrain. She never felt judged by them, but understood they were probably curious as to how she ended up in a wheelchair.
The accident of three years ago wasn’t a secret, but it still burned in her chest when she thought of how the driver, who was on their cell phone instead of noticing their light had turned red, changed the entire trajectory of her life. Now, the best way to prove herself was to show up every single day and do her job better than anyone else could. It had become her lifeline, her measuring stick for worth. If she showed up, pushed through whatever challenges arose, and persevered, then she belonged. She knew it wasn’t demanded of her by the others, but she demanded it for herself.
It was exhausting at times, but also empowering in its own way.
Mary had noticed over the months that Bert had been watching her carefully. Not in an invasive way, not with pity or doubt. But with a quiet attentiveness that suggested he was always aware of potential obstacles before they became problems.
When her wheelchair had caught on the edge of a desk repeatedly, making it difficult to maneuver in the space, she’d come in one morning to find the desk had been moved out six inches. No announcement, no fuss. Just quietly taken care of.
When the ramp outside her office had become slick with ice during a winter storm, she'd arrived the next day to find a covered extension had been added to protect the ramp from snow and rain. She’d asked Bert about it, and he’d just shrugged. “It’s a good safety feature… for all of us.”
There were a dozen other small adjustments and modifications she hadn’t asked for, but that made her life easier. A lower shelf in the supply room. A reconfigured filing system that put the most-used files within easy reach. The break room was reorganized so that everything was accessible without needing to ask for help.
Bert never said anything about these changes. He never drew attention to them or made her feel as though she were being accommodated. He just quietly made her environment work better, and then acted like it was no big deal.
It made her feelings for him even more complicated. How was she supposed to maintain professional distance from someone who paid such careful attention to her needs without making her feel diminished?
The morning passed in a flurry of activity. Supply orders to process, budget reports to review, phone calls with vendors, and coordination with the security system installers who were delivering the final touches to the perimeter monitoring. Mary loved the controlled chaos of it, the way her organizational skills were constantly put to use, and she felt essential to the operation.
She’d missed this in her last job. The camaraderie, the sense of being part of something important, the knowledge that her contributions mattered. There, she’d been just an admin, filing papers and managing a colonel’s calendar. Here, she was a Keeper.
Logan had made that title official months ago during their first formal team meeting in the completed headquarters. He’d looked around the room at his assembled team and said, “You all know Mary as our administrative manager. But she’s more than that. She’s integral to this operation, and she’s earned her place as a Keeper. Don’t ever forget that, Mary.”
The applause had been genuine, the congratulations warm, and Mary had felt tears prick her eyes even as she’d smiled and thanked them all. Sisco had hugged her, Devlin had clapped her on the back hard enough to make her cough, and Bert had taken her hand with that careful grip and said quietly, “We couldn’t make it without you.”