Page 68 of Shared By the Mountain Men Triplets

Rhett comes around the hood. “Inside. You’re exposed.”

For half a second, I think she might argue, because Wren has a stubborn streak wide enough to show up on a topo map, and under normal circumstances, I admire the hell out of it.

These aren’t normal circumstances.

She nods, and when she’s inside, she stands in the middle of the space like she’s not sure she belongs there.

“Sit,” Boone says in a tone much more gentle than Rhett would have managed.

She takes a chair in the living room, and Boone kneels in front of her with his first-aid kit, checking her hands, wrists, arms, and legs. He asks her to track his finger with her eyes, and she gives him a look that would make a lesser man back off, but she does it anyway.

I turn away before the tenderness in Boone’s face guts me completely.

Rhett already has maps spread across the table.

“I’ll inventory,” I say.

He nods. “Weapons, ammo, medical, water, fuel, food. Seventy-two-hour minimum. Seven-day preferred.”

“Already have seven,” Boone calls over.

Rhett keeps his focus on the map. “Confirm it.”

Before I reach the hall, Wren says, “This is my fault.”

“No,” the three of us say at the same time.

Arms braced on the table, Rhett looks over at her. “Turner’s responsible for his actions, and so are his men. You’re responsible for doing your job, and you did it.”

“I led them to you.”

“You found what they were hiding,” I say.

Rhett straightens and takes out his phone. “No more fieldwork.”

Wren’s spine stiffens, and I brace for a fight, but it doesn’t come. After a long moment, she nods but doesn’t say anything.

“We’ll gather whatever you need,” Rhett tells her.

I’m glad she’s not arguing, but I almost wish she would, only so I’d know she wasn’t traumatized by what happened today.

Boone dabs something on a scratch on her arm, and I head out to check supplies.

Later, the three of us go over a patrol schedule. From now on, two of us will stay awake at all times, our radios will always be charged and on us, and the exterior lights will remain off unless triggered.

Working fast and quiet, with a rifle slung over my shoulder and a sidearm at my hip, I reset the trip sensors along the north slope and reposition two game cameras on the creek approach. When I go back inside, Rhett’s checking weapons and Boone’s inventorying medical supplies.

Wren’s standing near the kitchen counter with her arms wrapped around herself, and I cross overto her before I decide whether or not it’s smart. She looks up when I stop in front of her, and for a second, neither of us speaks.

There are things I should say. Boone would find a way to make her smile, and Rhett would lay out a detailed plan for her safety. I can only give her what’s been running through my head for the past several hours.

“I should have seen them sooner.”

Her eyes soften, and she shakes her head. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” she repeats more firmly. “Cade, there was a rock face between you and them. It’s not failure, it’s geology.”