still cold. Still shaking.
It didn’t help that her throat was sore, her head was aching, and her mind was struggling to focus. She was also damn tired. Too tired to face Calvin Grant and whatever news he might have brought to share. Or to answer whatever new questions he might want answered.
So where did that leave her?
The hot shower quickly became a distant memory, and despite the Navajo blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a roaring fire only three feet away, Kellen couldn’t stop shaking. The sound of her breathing was suddenly too loud in her ears, although her lungs seemed incapable of drawing in a deep breath.
A moment later, inexplicably, her vision blurred and the room started to spin.
She bit her bottom lip, fisted her hands, and held herself rigid until at last, the room stopped spinning and appeared to right itself. Until everything looked the same as it had.
Solid.
Safe.
Except she felt anything but safe.
She rubbed her hands over her face, over her dry burning eyes. There were times she wished she could cry, but crying helped nothing. She’d learned that the hard way, long ago. Crying only gave her a headache and she already had one of those.
With a sigh, she stood, surprised at how unsteady her legs were. But there were things to do. Bogart, who’d been quietly keeping watch over her, needed to be fed. And before too long, the girls would appear. One by one or as a pair. Intent only on making sure she was all right.
Emotions swamped her at the thought. But that was all right. It was part of the reason she loved them, she thought, as pride stirred in her chest. She and the girls looked after each other. They’d made a family here, not of blood but of choice.
A family of misfits, sure, but they were her misfits as much as she was theirs.
A chosen family.
*
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do what you’re planning,” Dana said, forcing the cop to take a step back or run over her.
He gave her a single innocuous glance and moved to get past her, issuing a low, rumbled, “Excuse me.”
“You’re following Kellen,” Dana persisted. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
The cop stopped cold, his dark eyes squinting as he stared at her. “And who might you be?”
“This is Dr. Kingston.” Annie’s voice came from behind her. “Dana, this is Special Agent Calvin Grant. We met last year during the investigation after Kellen was shot. What brings you back, Agent Grant? Business or pleasure?”
Grant turned, what passed for a brief smile crossing his face. “Ms. Parker. Sadly, I’m here on business once again. But it’s always a pleasure to see you. I met with your father just a couple of days ago. Told him I was heading this way, and the senator sent along his best.”
“Oh?” Annie raised an eyebrow. “And how is Dad?”
“Still tough as nails on some of the old blowhards on the Hill,” Grant responded with a grin that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
“He’ll be pleased to know you said so,” Annie said, her stance softening. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind telling me, why were you about to follow Kellen before my colleague stopped you?”
Dana looked from Grant to Annie, trying to assimilate all the information she’d just learned in a brief amount of time. If Annie’s father was a senator, it would explain the presence of an FBI agent during the investigation of what would have been an isolated Colorado shooting.
Putting two and two together, Dana realized she knew Annie’s father. She’d met Senator Parker once at a fundraiser she’d attended in Boston. Left of center, outspoken, and quite charismatic. And she had no doubt he would have wanted to ensure his daughter was in no way a possible target.
“I was about to follow Ms. Ryan because I need to speak with her,” Grant said. “It’s rather urgent.”
“Have you found her shooter?” Annie asked.
Grant shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that.”
“Then