I could take the first aid kit to Kayden showing legitimate concern for an injured civilian. And once I’d treated his wound, I could sleep on his sofa. Keep watch. Make sure nobody went anywhere before five a.m.
I pulled on my socks and sneakers, then shoved the Chivas box into my backpack and my dirty uniform on top of that. I picked up my Glock, ejected the magazine one more time, and slid it back into place. Thirty-eight rounds against Bob and Frank and whoever else they had working for them. It didn’t feel like nearly enough ammunition. I slipped the gun into the side pocket of my backpack along with the two spare magazines and my duty belt, making sure everything was within easy reach.
I slung the pack over my shoulder and went looking for Rose.
I found her in the kitchen, wiping down the benches. She looked up when I walked in, and for a split second, something flickered across her face. Worry, maybe. Or guilt.
Then it was gone.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, but I just realized Kayden never treated that bullet wound. I thought I should check on him and make sure it’s cleaned and bandaged properly.” I kept my tone professional. Detached. “Do you have a first aid kit I can borrow?”
Rose nodded and pulled a green tackle box from under the sink. “Here you go. Make sure he actually does it. He can be as stubborn as a Luna, one of our milking cows.”
I chuckled. “Oh, don’t I know it.”
A sad smile ghosted across her lips, and for some strange reason, I wanted to pull her into a hug. I knew the Bransons had been through hell lately, but this woman looked like she’d survived her own war. “You sure you’re okay? I’m a good listener.”
She huffed and waved her hand like she was shooing away a fly. “I’m sure you are, love. But I’m heading to bed now.”
“Well, let me know if you need anything.”
“Hey, that’s my line.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
I clutched the handle of the first aid kit. “Oh, I don’t know which room is Kayden’s. Can you point me?—”
“He’s in the loft. Above the stables.”
“The loft?”
“Yeah. Kayden claimed that space when he was a teenager and never left.” She reached into a cupboard and pulled out a flashlight. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
I followed her through the homestead and out onto the back verandah. The night air was cool and still, and the empty space had the kind of quiet that felt dense enough to touch. A sliver of moon had popped up from the eastern horizon, giving enough glow that I could see cows in the paddock.
Rose turned on the flashlight and aimed the powerful beam toward a large silhouette against the brilliant, star-scattered sky.
“Walk through the middle of the stables to the back. You’ll find the ladder there,” she said. “Just call out before you climb up. He doesn’t like surprises.”
I bet he doesn’t.
“Thanks, Rose.”
She hesitated, like she wanted to say more, then just nodded and headed back inside.
As I crossed the yard, brittle grass crunched under my sneakers. The flashlight beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the wide barn doors that stood open like a gaping mouth. Inside, horses shifted in their stalls, ears pricking at the sound of my footsteps on the straw-littered concrete.
My heart was pounding, and it had nothing to do with walking in the dark.
Professional, Sapphire. Keep it professional.
I found the ladder at the back where Rose said it would be. I gripped the first aid kit with one hand, adjusted my backpack, and started climbing.
“Kayden?” I called out. “It’s Sapphire.”
“Oh, hey. Come on up.” His voice drifted down, threaded with amusement as footsteps pounded on the floor above me.
I reached the top, set the first aid kit down on the ledge, and hauled myself over the edge.