Книга - One Man’s War

One Man's War
Lindsay McKenna






It was Vietnam, 1965, but the rockets’ red glare wasn’t hot enough for brazen, challenge-hungry pilot Pete Mallory. He fanned the heat by wagering he could seduce his C.O.’s sister and fly away unscathed. But no-nonsense Tess Ramsey zeroed in on his soul-deep vulnerability—and the cocky chopper jockey took a nosedive. Worse, once he’d found her, no-strings Pete had something to lose. And he’d have to battle every devil of war’s hell to snatch Tess from the widening jaws of mortal peril.

Previously published.


One Man’s War

Lindsay McKenna






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




CONTENTS


Cover (#uac099d96-c55d-575e-b039-0011e1b8ecd3)

Back Cover Text (#u0f1db2ed-9a72-5cbd-88c2-7e58151b42d1)

Title Page (#u2f83aa80-89bd-5544-8a1f-da33518617d4)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_ac353400-b452-5740-bf1e-7d7329726e6c)

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_b6282547-b7ee-59f6-8de6-2288d27d3cd0)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e4b6a95c-d8d2-5b55-8102-8967c52dc2ae)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_e29ba69a-fe71-59e0-b597-f6dff5408d1c)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_6c7ee096-7981-5eff-bd09-528a247e8b7f)


Da Nang, Vietnam

April 1, 1965

Hunting time! Captain Pete Mallory savored the thought as he drove the Marine Corps jeep down the heavily potholed red dirt road. Mentally, he rubbed his hands together as he savored his next target: Tess Ramsey, the younger sister of his commanding officer, Major Gib Ramsey.

The village of Le My drew into view as the jeep bumped along. A huge patchwork quilt of rice paddies and dikes paralleled the road, with the village spreading out to his right. Pete ignored the hundred or so thatched huts and the Vietnamese families who lived in them. He was on a mission, his target a woman he’d never even seen. Of course, he had to remind himself, she was the sister of his CO, so he’d have to watch his step.

He grinned. Hell, with a little fancy footwork, his famous smile and a few clever lines, he’d have Tess Ramsey in his arms—and bed—in no time. And that’s exactly where he wanted this mysterious woman whom he’d been hearing about off and on since he’d been assigned to Da Nang six months ago.

He’d already tired of chasing the local Vietnamese women, who, in Pete’s opinion, were lovely but offered no satisfaction to his hunter’s instincts. He hungered for a challenge—a woman who was less willing, more of a moving target. And from what he’d heard about the independent Tess, who worked in the field as an agricultural advisor, she might be just what he was looking for. Pete braked the jeep in a cloud of reddish dust and got out. His black flight boots were covered with dirt, he noticed, scowling momentarily. When he got back to his barracks in Marble Mountain, he’d have to have the Vietnamese boy spit shine them all over again.

Then, remembering his mission, he began to hum to himself. Thrusting his hands into the pockets of his one-piece green flight suit, his utility cap drawn so low that the bill nearly touched his nose, Pete sauntered into the village. He had the perfect excuse: Gib Ramsey had sent him to find Tess and bring her back to a small officers’ party at the Marine Air Group squadron’s headquarters, Marble Mountain, tonight.

Pete had made it a point to learn enough Vietnamese to be able to swap and haggle with the natives. He entered the village, situated on a flat piece of real estate surrounded by trees and lush jungle growth that created a sort of protective wall. He stopped and scratched his head. Who to ask?

Children, naked or wearing only tattered shorts, played throughout the village. Cooking pots hung over small, smoky fires here and there with mamasans, clothed in black and wearing pointed bamboo hats, laboring at them. The men were out in the rice paddies plowing behind their harnessed water buffalo. He didn’t see many young or middle-aged women. They must be in the rice paddies, too, he surmised.

An old man, his face pinched and weathered, hobbled up to Pete and gazed at him with assessing brown eyes.

Pete hadn’t gotten over the fact that the Vietnamese were such a small, slender people. The old man, his chest sunken, his ribs showing clearly beneath several shell necklaces, tilted his head in birdlike fashion. A bright red cotton skirt covered him to his knees, and his large, callused feet stuck out below. The whole pictured seemed comical, and Pete grinned. The old man would never know he was laughing at him, he thought.

“Hey, papa san, where’s Tess Ramsey? I’m looking for Tess. Where’s she at?”

The man blinked.

Pete rolled his eyes and threw his hands on his hips. “You don’t understand a damned word I’m saying, do you? Why can’t you people learn English as a second language like the rest of the world?”

“Tess?”

Pete opened his mouth, wanting to take back what he’d just said. Obviously the old codger did understand him. Heat nettled Pete’s cheeks. Then he shrugged off his guilty conscience. “Yeah, papa san. Tess Ramsey. I’m looking for her.”

Lifting his branchlike arm, his flesh dark from decades under the tropical sun, the old man pointed toward a rice paddy in the distance. “Missy Tess is with our women out there. You go find her. She like a tall bamboo reed. You will know which one she is.”

“Yeah...I will.” Inwardly fuming because the old man hadn’t seemed to take offense at his insulting words, Pete turned on his heel and aimed himself toward the paddies. If anything, he’d seen laughter in the old man’s eyes. Pete couldn’t bear to be caught off guard by anyone or anything. Irritated, he lengthened his long stride. Then he forced himself to focus on his hunting instincts, pushing away the incident with the Vietnamese man. He couldn’t waste his time worrying about some peasant’s opinion—now was the time to make a damn good impression on Tess Ramsey.

* * *

Tess smiled warmly at the four Vietnamese women standing respectfully around her.

She stood four feet from a huge dry dirt dike, up to her ankles in murky brown water, as she talked to them, slender rice shots surrounding her.

The overhead sun was bright, as always, but Tess’s bamboo hat effectively shaded not only her face, but her shoulders and upper back as well. It was, in her opinion, one of the most brilliant designs the people of the Far East had created.

She’d just finished explaining some rice fertilization techniques when she heard her name being called from a distance. Tess looked in the direction of the sound. The four women also lifted their heads.

Coming along the paddy complex’s western dike wall was a marine in a dark green flight suit. Tess knew from the uniform that he was a pilot. But she could tell, even at a distance, that it wasn’t her brother, Gib. Tess heard a noise behind her and looked over her shoulder. A ten-man squad of marines, heavily ladened with packs, M-14 rifles and protective helmets, was slowly making its way across the southern dike. She frowned. If only the marines didn’t have to run patrols around her village of Le My. If only... Tess gave a whispered sound of frustration. The marines had landed in force at Da Nang a month ago, and already their presence was being felt and dreaded. It could only escalate the conflict, she feared.

She excused herself from the women and walked forward through the muddy water toward the approaching pilot. Tess vaguely recognized him. Most of the men in Gib’s helicopter squadron were stationed at Marble Mountain, and she had met some of them on various visits to her brother. Although she was sure she’d seen him around, she knew she’d never met this officer. Almost against her will, she noted how handsome he was.

Pete Mallory’s heart was doing funny things in his chest. Unconsciously, he rubbed that area as he approached the woman who obviously was Tess Ramsey. He ignored the fact that her dark green cotton slacks, resembling baggy pajamas, were haphazardly rolled above her nicely shaped knees, and the fact that she stood in rank, murky brown water. Her heart-shaped face, wide, intelligent green eyes and full mouth held his fascination. Lord, what a mouth she had. The urge to taste her exquisite lips was nearly overwhelming.

Just as Pete raised a hand, mustering his charm to casually introduce himself, sporadic rifle fire sounded nearby. His gaze snapped to the south, where a marine squad had been slowly making its way across the dike. The men all dived for the earth, flat on their bellies. At a sharp order from the officer they prepared to return fire.

Damn it! Pete’s gaze snapped back to Tess and her group of women. They were standing there as if nothing were happening! The idiots! Didn’t they hear the sniper fire? The shots probably were aimed at the marine squad, but the women could be in the line of fire!

“Get down!” Pete shouted. He made a sharp gesture for Tess to hit the deck—or, in this case, the flooded rice paddy. “I said, get down!” he roared, beginning to run toward her. How stupid could she be? All five women had curious looks on their faces as he yelled at them. Typical women, Pete decided.

More shots sounded, and the squad of marines began returning fire at a jungle wall half a mile away.

The paddy dike sloped steeply down into the water. Pete didn’t give a damn about the four Vietnamese women standing around looking nonplussed as he hurtled toward them. But he did care about Tess Ramsey. She was an American and she could be killed. Pete leaped off the dike and made a lunge for her.

Tess gasped as the pilot jumped directly at her. What was the fool doing? But even as the thought formed, his hands connected with her shoulders and Tess was flung backward. They both landed in the rice paddy with a tremendous splash, sheets of chocolate-colored water flying up in veils around them.

Water flowed up into her nose and choked her as Tess fought the pilot’s grip, knocking his hand away so she could struggle out of the two feet of water.

“Let go!” she sputtered as she staggered to her knees, and then her feet. She glowered at the pilot, who was still on his hands and knees in the paddy, sopping wet. “What do you think you’re doing?” Tess croaked. She coughed violently, her fingers pressed against her throat.

Scrambling to his feet, Pete could still hear the marines returning fire. He charged Tess. “Get down!”

Dodging his flailing attack, Tess leaped backward out of reach. “What for?” she yelled angrily.

Water streamed from Pete as his jaw dropped in utter disbelief. “What for?” he bellowed. “Lady, there’s sniper fire right over there.” He jabbed his finger angrily toward the trees. “Now get your butt down in this paddy and stop fighting me! You want to get killed?”

Tess burst out laughing. She couldn’t help herself. The marine pilot looked like a drowned rat, his military short black hair plastered to his skull, the flight suit clinging to his lean frame, his intense blue eyes flashing with anger and frustration.

“Captain, it’s okay. Really it is. That isn’t sniper fire!”

Disgruntled, Pete turned toward the marines hunkered against the southern paddy dike. They’d stopped firing their M-14s and no further gunshots were heard from the jungle.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snarled, returning his attention to Tess.

The four Vietnamese women covered their mouths with their hands and began giggling. Tess grinned as she pushed her wet hair off her face.

Pete glared at the women. “What the hell’s so funny?” He couldn’t help but notice that Tess was indeed like a tall piece of bamboo next to the four tiny Vietnamese women. She must be at least five foot eight or nine, Pete guessed, but she was dressed like the other women in every respect. Why? he wondered, when she could have worn her khaki US AID uniform, instead.

Tess ruefully rescued her bamboo hat from the water and tipped it to empty out the contents. “That firing you heard, Captain, was Nguyen Oanh, this woman’s son. They own an old rifle—about thirty years old. He was going into the jungle just now to hunt for wild pig.” With a shrug, Tess placed the bamboo hat back on her head, her smile widening. “Oanh is only ten years old, and we all know he can’t hit the broad side of a barn, but his father’s with him to teach him how to shoot properly.” Then she added, “I just hope they’re okay.”

Chastened, Pete looked down at himself. He’d paid the Vietnamese maid extra piasters to starch his flight suit so he’d look good for Tess. The odor drifting upward stung his nostrils, and his lips drew away from his gritted teeth.

“What the hell is this smell?”

Giggling, Tess said, “Water buffalo dung, Captain. It’s a great fertilizer, didn’t you know?” She looked down at herself and then over at her women friends whose faces were wreathed with shy smiles of amusement. Tess loved the Vietnamese earthy sense of humor because it matched hers. “I’m afraid we both look like drowned sewer rats,” she said, laughing. “Would you like to follow me to a nearby stream and wash off some of that fertilizer you’re wearing?”

Disgustedly, Pete flipped off several chunks that had lodged in the folds of his flight suit. “I hate this place,” he muttered. “Yeah, let’s get the hell out of this sewage pit.”

Laughing fully, Tess ignored the pilot’s angry statement. She told the women in Vietnamese to tell the marines on the dike about Oanh and his father, and to make sure they were allowed to return safely from the jungle where they’d been practicing their marksmanship. She didn’t want the marines to injure one of the villagers by mistake. The women realized the seriousness of the situation and quickly made their way toward the confused marines still kneeling on the south dike. Tess gazed after them for a moment. She could tell when the marines understood what had taken place, and she watched them sheepishly get to their feet, dust off their clothes and continue their patrol. Satisfied, she began slogging through the paddy toward the dike.

“Here, let me help you,” Pete said as he hurriedly tried to catch up to Tess and help her negotiate the steep dike.

Tess turned and halted. She watched the pilot flail around in the muddy paddy, in danger of losing his precarious balance at any moment. “Captain, take your time. That mud will suck the boots off your feet if you try to go too fast.”

“But you should have help climbing that dike.”

Tess’s smile broadened. The pilot continued laboring in the sucking mud for a moment—then promptly lost his balance, falling back into the water. She tried to stop from laughing, but couldn’t help herself. His handsome features had gone thundercloud black with disgust and fury as he dragged himself upright again. Tess held out her hand to him.

“Come on, Captain, grip my hand. I’ll help you out of this paddy before you drown yourself.” His attitude might be surly, but there was nothing not to like about the way he looked, Tess thought. He was more than six feet tall, with a lean, tigerlike body. Tess had to stop and laugh at herself. Some men had interested her, but most of them, upon realizing her independent nature, quickly fled. Still, she told herself as she stood waiting for him, it didn’t hurt to appreciate someone of this pilot’s bearing.

Spitting and coughing, Pete dodged Tess’s long, slender hand. Less than two feet separated them now and he glared at her. Laughter made her eyes sparkle like emeralds struck by sunlight, her red lashes making long curved frames around them. There was such a freshness and sense of joy around her that Pete momentarily forgot some of his own awkwardness at the embarrassing situation.

“Naw, you go on up first,” Pete muttered. Wrinkling his nose at the smell emanating from his wet clothes, he followed her up to the top of the dike.

Tess turned and waited for the lumbering pilot as he slipped and slid his way up the dike wall. She smiled benignly at him and extended her hand. “Put a chopper pilot on the ground and he’s like a big, fat goose that’s too heavy to fly. I’m Tess Ramsey. Hell of a way to meet, isn’t it? Who are you?”

Taken aback by her aura of confidence and her easygoing manner toward him, Pete stared at her proffered hand for a moment. It was reddened and chapped, the nails cut short. Her slender fingers were covered with many small, white scars. Hesitantly, he gripped her hand.

“I’m Captain Pete Mallory. Your brother, Major Ramsey, sent me down here to get you.” He was shocked again by the strength of her returning grip as they shook hands. Tess Ramsey was tall and rawboned, just like her older brother, but it took nothing away from her obvious femininity despite her bedraggled, foul-smelling clothes and her slender, almost boyish figure.

Releasing his hand, Tess nodded. “Rats. That’s right, there’s a small party at Marble Mountain tonight, isn’t there? I’d forgotten all about it.” She saw conflicting emotions in Pete’s penetrating blue eyes, and she suddenly had the feeling that he was assessing her as a tiger would its next quarry. More than used to appraisal by the military advisors with whom she worked, Tess didn’t take his perusal as an insult. She merely ignored it.

Pete stared at Tess. “You forgot?” Normally, Pete didn’t care for women with freckles. And Tess had her share: large copper sprinklings across her high cheekbones and well-defined nose. But on her, they looked like delicious raindrops, merely serving to emphasize her gorgeous eyes and patrician nose. Because she was a redhead, her skin was a pale ivory, and Pete wondered how on earth she managed not to be sunburned by Vietnam’s blisteringly hot sun. Maybe that was why she wore that ugly bamboo hat.

With a shrug, Tess turned. “Yes. Tell Gib I can’t make it, that I’m sorry. I’ve got a sick child I’m taking care of right now.”

Flabbergasted, Pete quickly caught up with her. “You can’t make it? After all I just went through to get here to pick you up, you can’t make it?”

Tess slanted him a glance, more than a little aware of his height compared with her own. Despite his current bedraggled appearance, Pete Mallory was a heart stopper. Perhaps it was those cobalt eyes that sparkled with devilry, or the shape of his mouth. With a shrug, Tess tried to shake off the effect the pilot had on her. “That’s right. I can’t make it, Captain. Gib will understand. He always does.”

Gripping her arm and bringing her to a halt, Pete muttered, “Hey, look, lady, I don’t understand. I mean, it’s not exactly a lot of fun bumping over a ten-mile dirt road to reach this miserable place and then get covered with water buffalo dung to find you. I think you damn well ought to show up after all I’ve been through.”

A flicker of anger went through Tess. She pulled her arm from his grip. “Captain, I’m staying. Is that clear enough for you?” She turned and continued off the dike onto a well-beaten path that led back to Le My, less than a quarter of a mile away.

Angrily, Pete caught up with her. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her how bullheaded she was. He’d never met a woman like her before—so damned independent and confident! Her red hair was plastered against her neck and shoulders, and she stank no less than he, yet she carried herself proudly, as if it didn’t matter. “You’re something else,” he groused. “No girl in her right mind would miss a party.” He gestured to her clothes, which looked like castoffs from the Salvation Army. “And how can you feel good about yourself as a woman running around in these things? I thought US AID advisors had a one-piece khaki uniform they were supposed to wear.”

Tess glanced at him and continued toward the village. “First of all, I don’t like being referred to as a girl, Captain. I’m a full-grown woman. Secondly, clothes do not make a person what they are.” She grinned slightly, her lips curving into a teasing angle. “Look at you.”

“What do you mean, look at me? What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” he snapped irritably.

“It’s obvious you don’t respect the Vietnamese people or me, Captain. Yet, you’re dressed impeccably well under the circumstances.”

Stung, Pete glared at her. Damn, but she had a long stride. She didn’t even walk like a woman should! He didn’t like her candor or the way she saw him, either.

Scrambling to save what little was left of the deteriorating situation, Pete tried another angle. “My friends call me Pete.”

“I’m not your friend, Captain.”

“You can be, if you want. I’d like that.”

“Oh, please! I know your type. You’d be better off chasing some poor Vietnamese bar girl who needs your money to put food in her family’s mouths. You forget: I’ve been over here for fifteen months. I’m on my second tour. There’s nothing you marines can put over on me that hasn’t been tried by the male military advisors I worked with long before you chopper jockeys landed. So, let’s put the games away. I don’t play them. Life’s too short, too important, to play games.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re outspoken?” Pete demanded hotly.

“Plenty of times.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” he asked, incredulous.

Tess shook her head. “Captain, I’m twenty-six years old and I’ve kicked around the Far East the last four of those years. There’s not much I haven’t seen, done or been part of. I’m not your typical American girl out of college, okay? The sooner that fact lodges in that brain of yours, the better we’ll get along.”

Pete said nothing more as they walked back to the village. Well, he’d wanted a challenge, and Tess Ramsey was certainly all of that—and more. He thought of giving up. Obviously she could see straight through his usual routine. Then he shook his head. Any woman he’d ever wanted, he’d gotten—it was that simple. He could pursue a girl better than any of his buddies. His reputation was on the line, anyway, because he’d made several bets at the O club last night that he’d bed down Tess Ramsey. Of course, her brother didn’t know it. That wouldn’t bode well for Pete’s career as a helicopter pilot. Besides, Gib Ramsey was a prude in Pete’s opinion—a man who didn’t chase the bar girls at the O club as most of the pilots did.

Tess led Pete to the back of a large thatched hut—literally, a wooden frame roofed with a blend of dried grass and woven palm leaves. Behind it ran a small stream about four feet deep and six feet wide. She gestured to the water.

“This is where you can clean up. I suggest you strip out of that flight suit, wash it out and put it back on.”

“Hey, wait! Where are you going?”

“To my hut to get cleaned up,” Tess said wryly. There was something vulnerable about Pete Mallory in that moment. It struck Tess acutely, and she mentally assimilated the discovery. For all his macho bravado, suddenly he looked helpless. “When you get washed off, come to my hut. I’ve got a comb you can use, and some soap, plus a small bowl.”

He grinned suddenly. “Sounds good.”

“That’s an invitation to clean up, Captain, not chase me. Okay?”

“Anything the lady wants,” he returned, flipping a smart salute in her direction.

Tess shook her head and turned away.

Things weren’t looking too bad despite the embarrassing situation, Pete decided as he stripped out of his smelly flight suit and threw it into the stream. Luckily, he wore a regulation olive green cotton T-shirt and boxer shorts under the suit, but those were going to have to come off, too. The stream was surrounded by tall elephant grass, a profusion of shrubbery and a few rubber trees, so he was relatively hidden from any curious eyes as he stripped naked and stood in the lukewarm water of the clear stream.

Humming to himself and plotting his next strategy, Pete knelt down and began sluicing the clean, clear water over himself. It was hell without a washcloth—more than ever he missed the amenities that Americans back in the States took for granted. Finally cleaned up, he struggled back into his wet clothes and zipped up his flight suit. Running his fingers through his dripping wet hair and pushing it off his brow, Pete turned and walked back into the village.

Damn! He came to a halt, realizing that Tess hadn’t told him which hut she was in. He grimaced, taking in the number of thatched dwellings. Just then, a young boy, thin as a proverbial rail, approached him curiously.

“Missy Tess said you come,” the boy said in pidgin English. He gripped Pete’s hand and tugged on it.

Extricating his hand from the boy’s small, thin one, Pete followed him, whistling cheerfully. Maybe the day wasn’t lost after all. Maybe, if he was diligent enough, persuasive enough, he’d talk bullheaded Tess Ramsey into coming to that party tonight—as his date.




CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_cb1f27e3-c44a-5adc-ac03-a228dc95003c)


Tess’s hut looked like all the rest: woven rice grass hung around the outside of a wooden frame. Carefully woven palm spikes had been thatched to make a thick, impermeable roof to keep the rain at bay during the monsoon season, which would begin shortly. The boy pointed to an opening covered with a faded orange cotton cloth.

“Tess?” Pete called hesitantly at the door.

“Come in.”

He pushed the cloth aside. The three small windows were open to allow air and light into the hut, but he had to stand still for a moment to let his eyes adjust. Tess sat cross-legged on a rice mat with a child in her arms. She had cleaned up and changed out of her black pajama outfit into a pale pink cotton blouse and khaki pants that looked threadbare. Her hair had been washed and brushed, and it lay in damp strands down her back. Long hair meant sweet exploration, Pete thought as he imagined his fingers combing through that rich red, gold and copper carpet. The image sent a sharp shaft of longing through him.

The child in her arms was a little girl, no more than four years old. Frowning, Pete stepped closer.

“What’s wrong with her?”

Tess glanced up at him. In the shadowy light, Pete’s face showed the first genuine concern she’d seen in him for someone other than himself.

“She stepped on a rusty nail the other day.” Tess ran her hand worriedly down the child’s spindly leg to where a dirty bandage covered her small foot. Feeling the child’s damp brow, she murmured, “She’s running a fever.”

“Has she had a tetanus shot?”

Tess held his troubled stare. Maybe he wasn’t as shallow as she’d first thought. Maybe there was a shred of depth and concern for others in his life. Maybe. “What tetanus shot? Captain, out here we don’t have such things.” She gently unbandaged the girl’s foot. The flesh was red and swollen around the puncture wound.

Pete came forward and crouched next to Tess and the girl, frowning. “Damn, but that looks ugly.”

“It is,” Tess said softly as she gently stroked the girl’s sweaty cheek and head. “I washed it out the best I could this morning. The supply truck comes by tomorrow. I could send her on it to the hospital at Da Nang.”

“Did you use soap and water?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all you have?”

“We didn’t get soap until about six months ago, Captain, so I’m not complaining. It’s a step forward.”

Pete’s heart went out to the little girl, who sleepily rubbed her eyes, then nuzzled deeply into Tess’s arms, her face pressed against Tess’s breast, as if she were her mother. “Where are her parents?”

“The mother’s dead. She stepped on a mine meant for an ARVN soldier in one of our rice paddies earlier this month.”

“Oh.”

“This is the frustrating part of being over here. I know about tetanus shots, antibiotics and everything else available in the real world. But they don’t exist here.” Tess’s voice lowered with pain and weariness. “In fifteen months I’ve seen so many needless deaths just for lack of simple things like vaccines and antibiotics.”

Bitter memories surfaced in Pete, and he struggled to keep them at bay. He watched almost with jealousy as the little girl in Tess’s arms gradually fell asleep, warm, obviously loved and protected.

Looking at Tess in the dim light, her damp red hair curling softly as it dried, Pete felt his heart respond powerfully to the expression on her face. In the shadows her features glowed with such care and concern for the child in her arms. Each stroke of her long, work-worn fingers across the child’s injured extremity tore at his closely guarded heart. It was the look of love on Tess’s face that suddenly gripped him, held him as nothing ever had in his entire life. There was such compassion in her large green eyes fraught with anguish. The richness of her mouth, her lips parted as if in a silent cry for the helpless child, startled him.

Shaken deeply, Pete suddenly got to his feet and backed away. He scowled, feeling a mixture of pain, hope, anger and need. It was a stupid array of feelings to have churning within him, but he wanted to be in Tess’s arms, being stroked by her caring hand, seeing that look in her eyes for him. Muttering a curse under his breath, Pete walked to the door of the hut, unable to sort through what was going on within him. Why should this particular scene, a not-unfamiliar one, get to him? Why now? Was it Tess? Him?

“I hate Vietnam,” he ground out in frustration. “Everywhere I look, there’s nothing but stinking poverty and suffering.” He gripped the orange curtain with his fist and pulled it aside to stare blindly out the opening.

Tess looked up. “Captain, some things, with time, you’ll get used to.” She glanced lovingly down at the child in her arms. “Others, you never will.”

“How could you have signed over for a second tour?” Pete demanded in a strangled voice.

Leaning down, Tess pressed a small kiss on the sleeping child’s brow. Looking up to meet his tortured gaze, she whispered, “How could I not?”

Pete froze at her softly spoken words. He saw the hope of the world in her eyes, and realized that she was one of those people who had a heart larger than her body, larger than her brain, and that it was going to get her into trouble someday. She gave more than she ever got. He tore his gaze from her lustrous eyes. Pete took more than he gave, and he knew it. But then, everything had been taken away from him since birth—he wasn’t about to give any precious piece of himself back to anyone or anything that might run away with it, hurting him all over again.

“You know what a scrounger is?” he said abruptly.

“No.”

He jabbed his thumb into his chest. “I’m one. Every squadron has a guy who’s good at getting things, scrounging up whatever is needed from God knows where.”

A slight smile hovered around Tess’s mouth. “Is that more or less like a wheeler-dealer? A used-car salesman?”

A thaw went through Pete as her smile gently touched his walled heart. How could her one, sad smile, get to him so easily? Completely off balance in Tess’s quiet, serene presence, he nodded. “Yeah, I’m the guy who can double- and triple-talk anyone out of anything. Look, why don’t you come back to Marble Mountain with me? While you’re there, I’ll scrounge up some tetanus vaccine and antibiotics for this kid.”

Tess gasped. “You could do that?” Even her brother, Gib, who wasn’t immune to the recent suffering of the Vietnamese people, hadn’t been able to requisition any medical supplies for her villages—as much as he’d wanted to.

Grinning cockily, some of his old spirit returning, Pete nodded. “Honey, I’m the best scrounger in the world. What you need, I can get.” Without reason, he wanted her to come back with him. A hunger ate at him to know Tess better—much better. Normally, he didn’t care what was in a woman’s head, it was always her body that got his undivided attention. But curiosity about Tess transcended his normal needs regarding women, and Pete was at a loss to explain why.

“Well—”

“Come on. You can’t do this girl much good here. If you come with me, I’ll make sure you get your medical supplies. Now, how can you pass up a deal like that?” he cajoled.

Smiling with relief, Tess nodded. “You’re right: I can’t. Not for her or the people of the three villages I work with. Okay, I’ll go with you.”

“According to Gib, you’re supposed to come back to Da Nang every night, anyway.”

Tess gently placed the girl on a sleeping mat and rummaged through a large rice-mat chest. She felt more than saw Pete draw near to look over her shoulder at what she was doing. “Gib would like me to go to Da Nang every night, but I don’t,” Tess said. Her precious supply of bandages—thin cotton strips that she’d torn from her old shirts, washed and then boiled thoroughly—were almost gone. With care, she took a vial of iodine from the chest.

Pete snorted as she laid out her meager medical items. “God, is that all you have to work with?” He looked at the strips of cotton in lieu of true bandages or dressings, a lousy one-ounce bottle of iodine, a pair of scissors and a set of tweezers.

“That’s been it ever since I arrived here.” Tess set to work scrubbing out the girl’s infected foot with cool, soapy water. Afterward, she placed more iodine into the puncture wound, bandaged it, then covered the girl with a thin excuse for a blanket and allowed her to go to sleep.

Tess got to her feet. “She’ll sleep for a while. Let me go next door and ask the woman to check in on her while I’m gone.”

“Where’s the rest of this kid’s family?”

“Her father is a sergeant in the South Vietnamese Army, her two older brothers have been kidnapped by VC, and you know what happened to her mother. She has no one. I’ll be right back.”

Pete stood in the hut, alone with the sleeping child. As much as he wanted to bar the raw, rising emotions from his heart, he couldn’t. Looking down at the girl, her small hands gently curled in sleep—some of the pain she was suffering eliminated through Tess’s care and love—he felt tears flood into his eyes.

“What the hell?” he rasped, and took a step back toward the door. Blinking furiously, Pete retreated, unable to deal with the quandary of feelings that Tess had unknowingly evoked within him. What was the matter with him? Why should he feel anything for this little rug rat?

Tess met him outside. The late afternoon sun shot through the lush vegetation that surrounded the busy village. The fragrant scent of cooking pots filled with rice and vegetables, the wood smoke and the singsong voices of the people impinged upon Pete’s heightened awareness. Although Tess wore baggy clothes, in his opinion barely suitable for a beggar, nothing could hide her obvious femininity.

Perhaps it was her shoulder-length red hair—now caught up in a haphazard ponytail with tendrils touching her high cheekbones—that made her so beautiful. Pete blinked, and stared at her as she approached. Back Stateside, a buxom chick in a miniskirt always got his attention. Now this woman, who wore Third World garments and no makeup, somehow looked more beautiful than any of those women he’d ever chased and caught.

“I’ll get my knapsack and be with you in just a second,” Tess promised. She saw a confused and penetrating look in Pete’s eyes as she walked past him. There was something going on between them, and Tess wasn’t sure what it was. As she went into her hut and picked up the olive green knapsack that had literally been around the world with her, she wondered what it was about this cocky, narrow-minded pilot that touched her heart. One moment he was such a hard case, yet the next he seemed an angel of mercy.

As Tess walked with Pete back to where the jeep was parked, she asked suspiciously, “So what’s in this for you if you get me the medical supplies I need?”

Pete grinned. “You.”

She shot him a withering glance. “I’m off-limits.”

“Not to me, you’re not.”

With disgust, Tess muttered, “You can’t demand a person do or be something you want, Captain.”

Pete laughed and opened his hands in a peaceful gesture. “But look at me: here I am, twenty-eight years old, a bachelor, handsome as hell and unattached. What more could you want, Tess?”

Inwardly, Tess offered grudging agreement. He was terribly handsome, and when his mouth lifted into his boyish grin, his dimples and smile lines deepened, giving his face a wonderful character. “I would think an intelligent man would want a woman to come to him of her own volition, not because she was blackmailed.”

“Some women just don’t know what they’re missing until they get it.”

Tess halted next to the jeep and tossed her knapsack in the back. She climbed in. “`It’ being a roll in the hay?”

With a shrug, Pete climbed in and started up the jeep. The vehicle coughed, sputtered, then roared to life. “I can’t think of anything better than sharing my bed with a woman. Can you?”

Tess gazed at him in utter shock. The jeep jerked twice, then they were off down the rutted dirt road, heading toward Marble Mountain, only a few miles south of Da Nang.

“Are you for real? I mean, are you serious about this trade-off—medical supplies for me?”

Pete backed off at the angry fire in her verdant eyes. He was an artist of sorts when it came to manipulating a woman into his arms. Too much pushing and Tess would tell him to take a walk. “Well,” he hedged, “let’s just say I’d hope you’d entertain the thought of letting me into your life a little.”

“Going to bed with someone isn’t a `little’ thing, Captain.”

“Couldn’t you call me Pete?”

Tess crossed her arms. “I guess...if you want.” She scowled at him. “Where I come from, women save themselves for marriage, and engagements are in order.”

Chuckling, Pete said, “Hey! Now, I’m not getting that serious, honey.”

“I didn’t think so.”

For some reason, Pete winced inwardly at her bitter tone. For some reason, he wanted Tess’s respect, not the disgust written so eloquently on her lovely features. “Look, don’t take this so seriously. Just let me get to know you a little better.”

“What does `better’ mean?”

“A date at the officers club? Maybe we could do some dancing? It’s not much of an O club yet, just a couple of tents, but we’ve got a plywood dance floor and a mean jukebox. We could have a couple of drinks.”

“I don’t drink. And I haven’t danced in years. I’d probably step all over your feet and break one of your toes. At the very least, I’d break your healthy ego.” Tess looked at the surrounding vegetation, in every shade of green ranging from yellows to nearly black. “And as for partying, I’m a stick-in-the-mud. Back at Texas A & M, I was one of those girls who stayed in the dorm and studied. I wasn’t out every night with the frat boys.”

“Well, let’s just start with a talk over some ice water at tonight’s party. Fair enough?” Pete gave her his best little-boy look, guaranteed to get him an affirmative response. This time, however, he felt a bit guilty, because he knew Tess was leveling with him, and he wasn’t with her.

“Tonight?”

“Why not? You’ll be at the party at our squadron. I’ll requisition a jeep and drive you back over to Da Nang. You can return to the village tomorrow morning.”

“I was hoping you’d get me the medical supplies and I’d hop a ride back to Le My with a convoy going this direction tonight. Or maybe Gib could authorize me a helicopter ride back to the village. That little girl needs the tetanus shot and antibiotics as soon as possible. My conscience would eat me up alive if I stayed overnight, knowing she could die without the medicine.”

She was right. Pete realized Tess was extraordinarily sensitive to those around her, not necessarily to herself. “Man, we’re complete opposites,” he muttered as the jeep bounced along the road. “Every time I get off a chopper flight, I hit the bar and have a good time. There’s no guarantee I’m coming back from any one of those flights, and I’m not putting my life on hold because of it.”

“What I do is relatively safe,” Tess said. “So that kind of good time isn’t high on my list of important activities.”

“Like hell your job’s safe. It isn’t. The VC are getting aggressive, and Intelligence says they’re gonna start getting real nasty real soon. You’re a white American woman, and you’re gonna be in their sites.” Pete glanced over at her profile, wildly aware of the innate gentleness of her mouth and the softness in her eyes. “Don’t ever think you won’t be a target, Tess.”

With a shrug, she said, “Listen, everyone knows me—friend and foe alike. They know my work. I’ve helped the Vietnamese increase rice yields, gotten them more food and improved their existence. I’m here as an AID advisor in an agricultural capacity. No, Pete, I’m safe. They won’t hurt me.”

“Brother, are you an ostrich with your head in the sand.” Shaking his own head, he looked both ways, then turned onto the asphalt of Highway 1. Gunning the jeep on the smooth road, he relaxed slightly, knowing there was less chance of VC attack on the highway, too.

Tess smiled absently and leaned back against the less-than-comfortable jeep seat. “So, will you get me the supplies as soon as we get to Marble Mountain?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“I’ll go over and see Gib about a chopper flight back while you do that.”

“No, don’t. I’ll fly you back.”

Tess stared over at Pete in surprise. His mouth flat, the corners pulled in. “Thanks,” she said, meaning it.

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

“Maybe you’re not such a bad guy after all.” Tess grinned. When Pete glanced over at her, he didn’t look very happy. “And don’t worry, as soon as I can, I’ll have that glass of ice water with you at the O club.”

Heartened, Pete suddenly couldn’t remember when he’d wanted anything quite so badly. He wanted to know a hell of a lot more about what made Tess Ramsey tick. She was a lone American woman in a Third World country, surrounded by escalating danger and hardened military men. But none of these things seemed to register with Tess. With a sigh, he realized that Tess wouldn’t be in his arms tonight. He’d be spending time with her, albeit with him in the cockpit and her in the rear with the door gunner. Still, the hope in her eyes, the awe that he could finagle medical supplies for her, had won him some of her respect and approval, and Pete knew it.

* * *

It was early evening when they arrived back at the Marine Air Group at Marble Mountain. To Tess’s disappointment, Gib was out on a helicopter flight, so she wouldn’t be able to see him. Pete insisted that Tess walk with him over to the group of olive green tents, wood-backed and set on platforms to keep them above the sandy ground, that housed thousands of boxes of supplies for the base. She stood to one side as Pete corraled a marine gunny sergeant, a position she knew to be very powerful in the military system.

“Look, Gunny,” Pete cajoled, “I need a box of vaccines—all kinds—and a box of antibiotics for this pretty young lady here. She works with the villagers. What have you got for her?”

The gunny, a grizzled, lean man with sharp gray eyes, sized up Pete and then Tess. “What have you got for me, Captain?”

Grinning affably, Pete looked around the dark, silent reaches of the tent. “What do you need, Gunny? Name it, and it’s yours.”

The gunny snorted. “How about a case of Johnnie Walker Red?”

“Done.” Pete thrust out his hand.

The gunny shook it, then gave him a wary look. “When am I gettin’ it?”

“I gotta make a milk run down to Saigon next week. I’ll pick it up and deliver it to you on my return. How’s that sound?”

“Good,” the gunny growled.

Pete smiled triumphantly over at Tess as the marine sergeant disappeared between the aisles. “Well? What do you think?”

Tess shook her head, awed. “I think you’re an angel in disguise.”

“Me? An angel?” Pete laughed deeply. “I’ve been accused by my ladies of being many things—a bastard, a devil, a swindler, a liar—but never an angel.”

Tess tilted her head and studied him in the tent’s shadowy gloom. There was such a wall around Pete that she could almost feel it. Why? It was as if he wanted her to think the worst of him. What about the good he also carried within him? “That’s quite a list of adjectives.”

“Yeah, well, the ladies were right. I’m not the nicest guy in the world.” Pete shook his finger in her direction. “And stop looking at me with those beautiful green eyes with the hope of the world in them. I’m a bastard. I make no bones about it. Life’s short and I intend to play hard and work a little. I’m not an angel, Tess Ramsey, and don’t you ever forget that.”

Sitting on the nylon seat in the rear of the Sikorsky helicopter on the way back to Le My, Tess held both precious cardboard boxes of medical supplies on her lap. Darkness had fallen, and all she could see in the reddish light from the cockpit display up front was the bare outline of Pete’s helmeted head. He sat in the pilot’s seat, his gloved hands busy with the controls, keeping the aircraft stable as they sped toward their destination. Night flights weren’t a helicopter’s strong point, Tess knew, although they often did fly in the murky darkness.

Pete had assured her that he could make this short hop blindfolded. Well, that was close to the truth. Tess’s awe of him had risen a notch by the very fact he was willing to fly her back to the village. Knowing full well he could have refused, she rummaged around in her heart, trying to understand what made him run the way he did. He was an enigma. Verbally, he was telling her he was a bastard to every woman he’d met. Yet, he was flying a mission of mercy for her and the little girl. Of course she hadn’t forgotten that Pete was probably counting on the chance to seduce her at a later date.

As the helicopter landed outside Le My, many of the children came running out to see it. Pete gave orders to his copilot, Lieutenant Joe Keegan, and his door gunner, Lance Corporal Jerry Random, to keep their eyes peeled for trouble in the form of roving VC while he escorted Tess into the village. Tess climbed out of the aircraft, her precious cargo cradled in her arms as the powerful blades whipped up dust and debris all around her. Pete unhooked his communications jack and, leaving his helmet on, climbed out of the front seat. Leaping down, he gripped Tess’s arm and hurried her away from the buffeting wind.

The children ran alongside them, their voices high with excitement. Tess was wildly aware that Pete hadn’t released her elbow as he shepherded her along the dirt path into the village. The air seemed charged with energy as he grinned down at her.

“See, I told you we’d get you here with no problem.”

“You’ve got eyes like a cat,” Tess agreed breathlessly.

“Here, let me help you.” Pete took one of the supply boxes and tucked it under his left arm. He looked around, feeling edgy. This flight wasn’t authorized by anyone. He doubted Gib would have okayed it. Night flights were strictly planned, and little jaunts like this one were forbidden. Pete didn’t trust the VC buildup he knew was taking place, either. If he got the helicopter shot up or one of his crew wounded, all hell would break loose and his career would go down the tubes.

In the village, some of the adults came out to see who had arrived. Tess halted at her hut and quickly moved the curtain aside. An old kerosene lamp sputtered in one corner, shedding meager light. On the grass mat the little girl still slept. Going over to her, Tess touched the child’s brow.

“How is she?” Pete asked, kneeling next to Tess and opening the box of antibiotics.

“Terribly hot. Her temperature must be 102 or 103.”

Taking off his helmet, Pete set it aside. “Here, let me help.” He saw the worry in Tess’s shadowed eyes, and the way her mouth was pursed to hold back her real reaction to the girl’s deteriorating condition. Ripping off the top of the cardboard box, Pete located the antibiotics. “Start her with 500 milligrams of penicillin.”

“That’s a heavy dose,” Tess protested.

“Yeah, but honey, you ain’t got no choice.” He motioned to the little girl’s foot. “Look at the red lines moving up her leg. The kid’s got blood poisoning.”

“Oh, God...” Tess looked more closely. Her hands shook as she took the syringe and needle from Pete.

“Hey, relax. She’s gonna make it. Just give her this shot, keep her cooled down with water, and by morning she’ll be a lot better.”

Tess gave him an odd look. “Are you a doctor?”

Shyly, Pete shrugged. “Nah, I’m just the kind of bastard that knows a little about a lot of things. Go on, give her the penicillin.” Gently he turned the girl onto her side so that Tess could give the shot.

Relief cascaded through Tess afterward. Pete had also wrangled an entire box of syringes and needles, so she wouldn’t have to keep boiling and using the old ones over again as she had in the past. “Thanks,” she murmured, her voice wobbly with feeling. “You really are a knight in shining armor to us.”

Pete snorted and slowly rose. “Don’t go putting me on any pedestals, honey, I’ll sure as hell fall off faster and quicker than you could ever believe. Listen, I gotta hoof it out of here. I don’t like leaving my helo crew sitting ducks on the ground.”

Immediately, Tess stood. “I—thanks, Pete. Thanks so much....”

Gone was the brusque, hard-talking woman of this afternoon. In her place, Pete was privileged to see the real Tess. And sweet God, did he like what he saw. With a shrug he placed his hand on her shoulder. “It’s nothing.”

“I don’t call helping a little girl `nothing.’” There was such vulnerability in his eyes now. Tess felt her breath become suspended and her heart start to beat fast at the discovery. Pete’s hand felt good, steadying her spinning emotions.

“Then,” Pete whispered, devilry dancing in his eyes, “I intend to collect for my good deed sooner or later.” The urge to lean forward those few inches and kiss the hell out of her parted, soft lips was almost Pete’s undoing. But something cautioned him not to do it—at least, not yet. Patting her shoulder, he said, “I’ll see you around, honey.”

He was gone. Tess stood in the center of the hut, the syringe still in her hand. Whatever powerful magic was at work made her feel dizzy and not of this world. Trying to shake off Pete’s overwhelming presence, she turned and knelt down by the little girl. Tess’s night would be spent bathing the child to keep her temperature down until the antibiotic took hold—if only it would. Some of Tess’s hope diminished as she heard the helicopter take off, the heavy whap, whap of blades cutting through the humid air that always hung over Vietnam.

She began to gently bathe the girl, and her hope continued to erode as the last sounds of the helicopter bearing Pete Mallory back to Marble Mountain faded into nothing. It had been a crazy day in so many ways. Pete had crashed into her life, quite literally. Tess couldn’t understand how his hard line toward women in general went with such a compassionate streak toward children. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense.

Still, as she remained awake through the early morning hours, bathing the delirious child, Tess couldn’t forget Pete. There had been moments when his eyes had revealed another side to him—and it was that side she wanted to know. Tess sighed. She’d already lost her innocence about life and men. Three years ago, she’d been engaged to Eric Hampton, a Peace Corps volunteer. So caught up with being in love, Tess had given herself—body, heart and soul—to him.

Tess struggled to shake off much-needed sleep to stay up with the girl. By 3:00 a.m., the child’s temperature was beginning to drop. Relief shattered through Tess as she lay down and drew the girl into her arms. She closed her eyes, but sleep refused to come. Pete’s unexpected entrance into her life had stirred up a lot of unsolved feelings toward Eric.

Eric had been the exact opposite of Pete: quiet, sincere and hardworking. Somehow, the engagement had fallen apart. What had gone wrong? Had it been her? Was she incapable of being loved? Or of knowing what love really was? Now Pete was saying he was a bastard, making no bones about it, and yet there was such a discrepancy between his words and his actions. Unable to figure it all out, Tess sighed again and gave the little girl a gentle squeeze, just to let her know she was loved and cared for.

Pete Mallory was a hunter with few morals or values when it came to women. The pain in Tess’s heart widened as she broached the twilight zone between sleep and wakefulness. So how could she be drawn to him? How? Resolution wove with sleep as she surrendered to the security of the darkness. Under no circumstance would she allow herself to be manipulated. No way.




CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_6cc0f958-66e8-5e6b-9963-c6efffea7ac7)


“Man, things are getting bad out in the bush,” Pete’s copilot, Joe Keegan, confided. The Sikorsky helicopter’s blades were turning slowly, the engine already shut down. Pete finished flipping off the rest of the switches on his side of the cockpit and sat back in the uncomfortable seat, perspiration running down the sides of his face beneath his helmet. Sweat poured off him from the humidity that hung like a heavy, wet blanket around them twenty-four hours a day.

“Yeah,” Pete croaked, loosening the helmet strap. “Things are getting worse.” With a groan, he took the heavy helmet off, fresh air cooling him momentarily. Running his fingers through the wet hair plastered against his skull, he glanced back at the glum marine second lieutenant—a green twenty-three-year-old kid. This was the officer’s first month in Nam and into what was known as the “bush,” a place where lives could be and were lost—especially to VC land mines and snipers. The war—and it was a dirty war, in Pete’s opinion—was heating up daily.

Keegan glumly lifted his hand in farewell and exited out the right side of the Sikorsky, heading toward the flight shack to file their flight report.

Pete’s gunner, Random, a red-haired marine lance corporal with dancing gray eyes, glanced over at him. “Want me to check for holes in the fuselage, Mr. Mallory? I know we took hits.”

“Go ahead. Just don’t tell me how many you find.” Pete sat there, letting the shakiness pass before he attempted to move. His knees felt like jelly.

“You don’t want to know?”

Pete shook his head. “No way.” He didn’t want to know how close one of those bullets had come. The VC knew the man sitting in the right seat of a helicopter was the pilot, and they aimed for him first. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes and took in a ragged but deep breath, trying to still his pounding heart.

“It wasn’t very groovy out there today,” Random added, just as shaken as Pete from the ground fire. “Hot LZ’s are the armpits of the universe.”

“No argument from me, and groovy isn’t a word I’d use for a wartime situation,” Pete whispered. His mind, his heart, circled back to Tess. Damned if she hadn’t haunted his dreams for the past five days. And not an hour went by that her image didn’t gently intrude upon his world of harsh reality, of life and death, giving him a moment’s serene peace. How was the four-year-old girl? he wondered. Had she survived with the help of the tetanus vaccine and antibiotics? How was Tess?

With a sigh, Pete opened his eyes, stuffed his helmet into the green canvas bag that he stowed behind his seat during flights, and slowly moved out of the cramped, confining cockpit. All around him on the tarmac was the busy-bee activity of ground crews servicing the birds and tanker trucks, refueling them for the next flight. Weary flight crews were dragging their butts back to the flight line shack to file their reports and discrepancy logs.

At the flight shack, Pete joined his copilot. “What’re your plans?” Keegan asked as he handed him the report to check and then officially sign off. “Beers at the O club?”

Normally, that’s exactly what Pete would do. Only an ice-cold beer took the edge off his thirstiness and dulled the adrenaline from a rough flight. He quickly read Keegan’s report, noticed how wobbly the printing was on it, and signed it off with his own trembling signature. Pete handed the report across the desk to the flight chief. “No,” he said. “I gotta check out some things. Maybe later.”

Gib Ramsey was at his desk in the hard-back tent that served as headquarters for the Marine Air Group helicopter squadron. The air in the tent was squalid, and hung like a damp sheet within the gloomy interior. Gib looked up as Pete sauntered in.

“How was it out there today? I heard you took ground fire.”

Pete shrugged. “Yeah, my crew chief counted fifteen rounds that stitched up my bird. No casualties, though.”

“Good,” Gib said, putting the pen and paper aside.

“We aren’t always going to be so lucky.”

“No...”

“Hey, I want permission to buzz on over to Le My for a couple of hours.”

“Oh?” Gib cocked his head, his eyes curious.

With a burgeoning grin, Pete added, “I scrounged up some more supplies for your sister.”

“I thought so.”

His mouth stretching into a full smile, Pete said, “This is business.”

“Oh?” Then Gib shrugged. “She knows your type anyway, Mallory, so I’m not worried. Tess has been able to take care of herself in situations far worse than you horning in on her life.”

Pete laughed good-naturedly. The major knew he was the best scrounger at Marble Mountain and relied on him heavily to get badly needed items for the squadron. Every once in a while, Pete took advantage of this relationship, but his CO usually allowed it to happen by way of thanks for his heroic efforts in the area of procurement.

“So, you got some stuff to go to Le My?” Gib teased.

“Strictly business.” Giving Gib an innocent look, Pete opened his hands. “Hey, Tess called me an angel of mercy a week ago.”

Rolling his eyes, Gib muttered, “You? With your reputation?”

“Believe it, Major. Well? Can I have about three hours? We’re not due for another mission until tomorrow morning. I’m all caught up on paperwork.”

Gib nodded, then scowled. “Yeah, go ahead. I’m up to my armpits in local politics with that rubber plantation estate owned by Dany Villard.”

Joy coursed through Pete. He hadn’t realized how much he truly wanted to see Tess again until he heard permission granted. “Out of sight. See you later, Major.”

“Pete?”

He turned on his heel. “Yes, sir?”

“When you `accidentally’ run into Tess, will you tell her to get her rear back to Da Nang at night? Things are heating up out there.” The scowl on his broad brow deepened. “She’s supposed to stay at Da Nang every night, not out at those villages.”

“I’ll tell her that.” Pete recalled vividly her earlier refusal to stay at Da Nang. “But I don’t know if it will do much good.”

“Do me a favor? Use your considerable charm, sweet talk and any other kind of leverage you can think of to get my baby sis to see the light of day? Tell her there’re VC massing west of Le My.”

Pete shared Gib’s belief that Tess should stay at a safe haven each night. “I’ll do what I can.”

“If you succeed, I’ll owe you, Mallory.”

Grinning, Pete nodded. “Maybe a weekend’s worth of leave in Saigon?”

With a groan, Gib shook his head. “Get out of here, Captain Mallory.”

Chuckling, Pete sauntered out of the tent and into the humid noontime heat. He threw his utility cap on his head, the broad brim shading his eyes from the always brilliant, burning rays of the sun. Whistling softly, his spirits lifting so high he felt as if he was walking on air, Pete requisitioned a jeep from motor pool, then went about collecting all the little things he’d scrounged all week—just for Tess. When she saw these gifts he’d managed to wrangle, he thought with a deepening grin, she wouldn’t be able to say no to anything he asked.

* * *

Pete found Tess at one end of the village of Le My, sitting on a rubber-tree stump and holding what looked like some sort of impromptu medical clinic. Spread out on a cardboard box next to her were syringes, bottles of vaccine and the cotton strips she used for bandaging. In front of her, standing patiently in line, were about thirty women with children hanging onto their clothes or tucked away in their arms.

“Hey!” Pete called as he approached, “you playing nurse now?”

Tess’s head snapped up. Her eyes widened. She’d just finished inoculating a five-year-old boy, and she used a piece of cotton dipped in alcohol to clean away the spot of blood on his arm.

“Pete!”

He grinned broadly and set a large box down beside her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, honey. How are you? And how’s that little girl with the bad foot?” It took everything Pete had to stop himself from reaching out to touch Tess’s cheek—which was smudged with a bit of red dust. Her hair was caught up in a haphazard ponytail, and today she was wearing her “official” AID uniform, a one-piece khaki outfit replete with badges on each shoulder that proclaimed her as a civilian, not a military advisor.

“I’m fine. Oh, and the little girl, Lee, is much better—thanks to you.” How stalwart Pete looked in his dark green flight suit, his hands settled confidently on his hips and that rakish smile on his face. The look in his dark blue eyes made Tess feel overwhelmingly special for a moment—but then she reminded herself that Pete had the ability to make each woman feel special, desirable and one-of-a-kind just so he could get her into his bed.

“Looks like today is shot day. Lucky people,” Pete teased. “Glad it’s not me.”

Tess glanced at the long line in front of her. “Well, if I had some help, the vaccinations could go faster.”

“Is that a hint for me to roll up my sleeves and get to work?”

She smiled up at him as his shadow fell across her. “You seemed to know a great deal about medicine last week. Sure, pitch in. If you can fill the syringes, hand them to me, this will go twice as fast.”

“If I do, will you take an hour out of your schedule and visit with me?”

Tess shook her head and managed a sour laugh. “Do you always have to bargain with a woman, trade something for her attention?”

Pete moseyed on over to her “table” and methodically began to do as Tess asked. “Well, now remember, most ladies just fall into my arms without a fight. I only make trade-offs with tough lady customers who have to be convinced of my being a good thing in their lives.”

“Oh, boy,” Tess said, rolling her eyes and laughing as the next person in line, a mother with three small children, stepped up to her.

Occasionally, Pete looked up from his duties. Tess knew Vietnamese fluently, and her voice was soft and rhythmic as she spoke to each woman and child. She had such gentleness. Pete wished mightily that Tess would touch him like that. It was obvious to him that the Vietnamese worshipped Tess. But he knew they could never really appreciate her fully—the way he could.

“So, Lee is getting better, huh?” he asked, handing her another syringe filled with vaccine.

“Yes, much better. Thanks to you.”

“You promised to have a glass of mineral water at the O club with me on that one.”

Tess gave him a wary look. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“More importantly, have you been looking forward to it?”

With a delicate shrug, Tess said, “Would a monkey look forward to being trapped and eaten by a tiger?”

“You’ve been in Nam too long. You’re already beginning to sound like a Zen Buddhist—answering a question with a question.”

She grinned and swabbed down the next boy’s arm. “Just answer my question, Mallory. Why should I allow myself to be trapped by you?”

Pete had the good grace to blush, something he’d not done in a long, long time. Placing two more filled syringes next to her, he muttered, “Since when is kissing or making love a trap?”

Tess hooted, and several of the villagers smiled even though they didn’t understand enough English to know what had been said. “Real love is never a trap. Is that how you see love?”

Uncomfortable, Pete shrugged. Only five more people stood in line and then they’d have time to themselves, time for him to woo Tess with his array of scrounged gifts. “I’m not sure what love is.”

Giving him a curious look, Tess said, “What an odd thing to say.” What had happened to Pete to make him that doubtful of one of the most beautiful feelings in the world? “There are so many kinds of love,” Tess began softly. Smiling up at her next patients, she said, “The love of a mother for her child. The love of a brother for a sister. The love of a husband for his wife.”

Scowling heavily, Pete fixed the last syringe and handed it to Tess. “Yeah, well, I’m not too well acquainted with any of the above. Maybe that’s why I don’t put much stock in this thing called love that everyone thinks is so great.”

The vibrating anger beneath his words made Tess turn and study him for a moment. She returned to the last few vaccinations. “Tell me about your mother. What kind of woman is she?”

Pete snorted violently and shoved his hands into the pockets of his flight suit. “A bitch.”

Tess froze momentarily beneath his grated words, then finished the injections. She slowly turned around to face Pete. His eyes refused to meet hers, but the anger banked in them was very real. And so was the thundercloud-dark expression on his hardened features. Instinctively, Tess knew she was treading on some very painful ground.

“Tell me about her,” she coaxed gently as she gathered up the used syringes and empty vaccine bottles.

He shrugged and his mouth quirked. “What’s there to tell? I was the unwanted brat. The minute after I was born, my mother gave me up. She abandoned me, according to her older sister, because she was only sixteen years old at the time. I was a mistake that happened, and believe me, her whole family thought so, too. No one in the family would take me for various and sundry reasons, so I ended up in a string of foster homes until I was twelve. By that time, I was past the cute and cuddly stage, so no one wanted me. I spent time in a Chicago orphanage until I was eighteen. When I got out, I headed to college to make something of myself. I never wanted to look back. I never wanted to hear from any of my so-called `real’ family again. They didn’t want me, so I don’t give a damn about them.”

Pete nailed Tess with a lethal look. “Don’t talk to me about love. I don’t know what the hell it is. I never did. Now, rejection—I can tell you a whole lot about that. And quitting—that, too. I come from a family of gutless wonders who would rather let a little kid go than try to keep him.” Darkly, he looked down at his dusty flight boots. Why the hell was he telling Tess about himself? It was the cardinal rule in his book of life never to divulge anything of himself to anyone—especially a woman. She could do too much damage with that kind of information.

Tess packed the medical supplies into the small cardboard box, at a loss for words for several moments. She felt Pete’s pain as if it were her own. Glancing around the village, where so many children played happily, she looked up at him, her face filled with compassion. His mouth was a tight line holding back a deluge of suppressed feelings. Somehow, some-where in her heart, Tess knew she could unlock that buried grief and pain for Pete. But at what price to herself? He didn’t acknowledge love, and with good reason. He could take, but he wasn’t going to give to her or anyone.

“I’m sorry if I touched a raw nerve.”

“Hell, that nerve’s been dead a long time,” he said explosively. Exasperated, he added, “Look, I didn’t mean to talk about myself. Let’s forget it.” He moved like a tightly coiled spring to where he’d set the box, and brought it back to the makeshift table. In an effort to shake off all mention of his dark and unhappy past, Pete struggled to put on a smile and tuck away all his emotions. “I’ve been gathering things all week for you. Go on, take a look.”

Hesitantly, Tess stood up and moved over beside Pete. As he folded open the flaps of the cardboard box, she gasped. There was an incredible array of medical supplies—adhesive tape, several thermometers, huge rolls of gauze, brand-new scissors, Mercurochrome and at least fifty bottles of penicillin. With a gasp, she reached out, barely touching the items.

“Pete...” she breathed disbelievingly. “How—”

“Now, honey, don’t go asking a scrounger how he got what he got for you. Those are trade secrets.” He forced a smile he still didn’t feel, although Tess’s glowing features assuaged some of the pain that lingered in his chest. Still in shock that he’d admitted his anger toward his mother to Tess, he felt awkward.

“This is wonderful! Oh, look! Typhoid, diphtheria and whooping cough vaccine! The babies won’t die from any of those, now.” She held up a huge amber bottle. “And malaria tablets!”

A hot, powerful feeling moved through Pete as Tess made a big deal over the supplies. Something good and clean flowed through him, erasing much of the ugliness that roiled within him. Her joy was genuine, the look in her lovely green eyes telling him everything. It struck Pete that Tess simply didn’t play the games other women played back in the States. There was a straightforward simpleness about her, that soft Texas drawl of hers touching him like a heated fever, changing him in ways he’d never be able to logically categorize. But his body was responding of its own accord, and the ache building in him was more than just physical. He ached to capture and tame that smiling mouth of hers, to absorb the beauty and happiness he saw in her eyes. In that moment, Pete felt like a man bound for hell getting his first and only look at what heaven might have been like.

“This is incredible, Pete. Wonderful!” Tess turned and threw her arms impulsively around his broad, powerful shoulders and gave him a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice off-key. “Thank you for your gifts.”

The shocking touch of her body against his own made him dizzy. Automatically, Pete reached out to place his arms around Tess, but she was gone as quickly as she had embraced him. Her cheeks were flushed, the freckles across her cheeks darker, making her look even more desirable, if that were possible. Her red hair, straight by nature, was slightly curled and damp against her temples. Pete longed to touch her hair, just a strand of it, to see what it felt like. Would it be strong yet soft, like Tess?

His mouth went dry, and his heart picked up in beat as he met, held and drowned in her gaze, now awash with tears. Tears?

“Now,” he muttered gruffly, “don’t cry! I can’t stand it when a woman cries. It bothers the hell out of me.”

Tess blinked them away and managed a sliver of a laugh. “They’re tears of happiness, Pete. Don’t tell me you don’t know what that feeling is, either.”

Bashfully, he shrugged and turned away. If he kept staring down into Tess’s upturned face, he’d do something they’d both be sorry for later. The blinding urge to kiss her, to take her bodily and bury himself in her loving depths, nearly unstrung all his carefully made plans to woo Tess into his bed. Fighting to get a hold on his unraveling feelings, he felt Tess’s hand grip his arm.

“Pete?”

“I’m okay.”

She smiled up at him. “And you keep saying you’re such a bastard.” A flood of incredible light and heat swept through Tess. “You foster such a bad-boy image, yet you turn around and do this. Pete, something’s not making sense here.”

“It’s just a way of getting your attention, is all,” he muttered defensively, aware of her firm grip on his arm. Her touch was galvanizing, hot coals against his flesh. “Don’t read anything more into it than that.”

“When a man courts a woman, he usually brings chocolates and flowers,” Tess teased and glanced at the box, “not medical supplies.” If she didn’t let go, Tess knew she’d want to keep touching him—to raise a hand to his implacable features, smoothing and softening them once again by taking away the tension that hung around his mouth and eyes. How easily touched he was. That was a happy discovery. He wasn’t half as bad as he tried to make people think. Releasing his arm, Tess whispered, “Well, whatever your intentions, you’ll be saving lives with these medical items whether you know it or not.”

“And for that, you’ll have dinner with me tonight at the O club?” he pressed, taking advantage of her lowered guard. Never had he wanted anything more.

With a laugh, Tess shook her head. “I can’t go tonight. One of the women is in labor, and I promised her I’d stay with her. It’s her first baby, and I want to be here for moral support as well as for medical purposes.” Tess touched the box. “Now, with the Mercurochrome, I can disinfect the baby’s navel. Do you know how many infants get infection right after they’re born because of lack of iodine?”

Pete shook his head. But he saw the seriousness in Tess’s vulnerable eyes. “There’s more,” he said abruptly, hurt that she wouldn’t go with him to the O club.

“More? Of what?”

“Supplies. Come on, they’re in the jeep. They’re too bulky to carry all at once.” He turned on his heel, trying to salvage his hurt pride. A part of him understood Tess’s reason for staying at Le My. There was a mother having a baby—and he was sure the baby was wanted and wouldn’t be given away to some stranger as he’d been. He saw something commendable in Tess’s decision to stay, but the selfish part of him wanted her regardless of the situation, and that was the part he wrestled with as he walked back to the jeep.

Tess quickly caught up with Pete. “I can’t believe this! What other things did you bring?”

“Oh, just odds and ends I found.”

At the jeep, Tess halted, her mouth dropping open. There were ten half sheets of plywood in the back of the vehicle. In another cardboard box were six colorful comforters, in quiltlike patterns. The third box contained six marine-issue green Snoopy blankets, in camouflage jungle green-and-brown, a blend of nylon quilted with an inner layer of polyester down. Tess was speechless.

Pete felt an incredible tidal wave of pleasure sweep through him as he saw the effects his gifts had on Tess. She was like a child at Christmas. He patted the plywood.

“After looking at your hut, which is more like a sieve than a house, I figured plywood walls would be best.” He pointed to the box of comforters. “And all you had to lie on are those lousy grass mats. You’re sleeping on a dirt floor, for all intents and purposes. At least now you’ll be able to have some padding under you and a blanket to throw on top of you when it gets chilly in the early morning hours.”

Pete’s thoughtfulness overwhelmed Tess, and she fought back tears of gratitude. Some of the harshness had left his features, and she saw a little boy standing in front of her, wanting so badly to please his mother, wanting so badly to be held and loved for what he’d gotten her. All of these realizations cascaded through Tess: how much Pete needed to be held and loved, to be told he was worthwhile and needed. The only way he knew to get approval was to buy someone with gifts.

Sadness moved through Tess as she gently touched the comforters and then the blankets. “You are,” she whispered unsteadily, on the verge of tears, “an angel of mercy, Pete Mallory.” And without thinking, she put her arms around his neck, drew him close and simply held him. She buried her head next to his jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A shattering sensation broke around Pete’s heart as Tess went slowly into his arms. This time she didn’t move away. This time, her loving body filled with a strength he craved, she remained within his tightening embrace. Closing his eyes, Pete savored her length against him, as if she were a prayer that had finally been answered. A ragged sigh tore from him and his nostrils flared to take in her very feminine scent. It was a perfume far more dizzying and beautiful than the orchids that clung to the trees in the jungles.

Just her simple act, an act of innocence, made him savor Tess as he had no other woman. Pete felt the rapid beat of her heart against his chest wall, the firmness of her small breasts. He was wildly aware of the shallow rise and fall of her breathing, and even more aware of how Tess fit beautifully—perfectly—against his tall frame.

Tess slowly extricated herself from Pete’s tight embrace. Shocked by her own impulsive gesture, she touched her flaming cheek as she looked shyly up into his hooded eyes, smoldering with raw need of her. “I—I’m sorry...I don’t know what happened....”

“I’m not sorry at all,” Pete rasped, his voice roughened with desire. Tess looked incredibly vulnerable right now, wide open for any attack he might make on her. But something stopped him from taking advantage of her—for now. She was shaken. So was he.

The moment was broken when the shortwave radio in the jeep began to squawk. Cursing the bad timing, Pete picked it up and called in.

Tess stepped away and crossed her arms, as if to hold herself together after the unexpected embrace. Disappointment washed through her: Pete was needed immediately back at base to fly an urgent mission.

Apologetically, Pete put the radio on the seat of the jeep. He began to transfer the goods from the vehicle and Tess pitched in to help him. “Sorry I can’t stay, Tess.”

“I am, too,” she admitted. They placed the sheets of plywood against the trunk of a rubber tree. In moments, the jeep was unloaded. Tess wiped her dusty hands against the thighs of her uniform. “Will it be dangerous, this mission?”

Pete shrugged, not wanting to leave. The need to capture Tess’s provocative mouth was real, overriding. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” she cast about, “Gib said you guys fly one mission a day. This would be your second one.”

Forcing himself to climb into the jeep, Pete started up the cantankerous vehicle. “Don’t worry about me, honey. I’m too damn mean to die. Didn’t you know? Only the good die young. I’m going to be around until I’m a dirty old man of ninety.”

She laughed and stepped away from the jeep. “You’re such a hard case, Mallory. When will I see you again?”

Pete grinned belatedly. “When do you want to see me?”

“As soon as possible. I could use another set of strong, capable hands to turn that plywood into a small room we could use as a school.”

With a groan, Pete complained, “So you only want me for my body.”

It was her turn to smile. “Isn’t that what you only want from me? What an interesting turn of the tables....”

In that instant, Pete liked Tess more than ever. She had spunk and wit, not to mention an unquenchable spirit. He laughed. “All’s fair in love and war, and honey, we’re in a war. I’ll drop by and loan you myself as soon as possible. Okay?”

Sobering, Tess said, “Be careful, Pete.”

“I always am.”

“No, I mean, be really careful.”

“For you, I will be, honey. See you later.”

Tess watched the jeep disappear, leaving a cloud of reddish dust in its wake. So much was happening to her when it came to Pete. He was incredibly complex—one moment the jokester; the next, hauntingly human and emotionally fragile. Turning around, Tess looked at all the equipment he’d brought. A number of children had come up to eagerly sift through the contents and finger the soft, clean material. Their faces were filled with awe over the array of rainbow colors. With a shake of her head, Tess moved toward the expectant and excited children.

“You’re something else, mister. Something else,” she muttered, hoping against hope that she would see Pete much sooner rather than later.




CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_72f4345c-e38b-507f-ac8a-4c906f6a6e22)


“You’re turning into a bear,” Gib Ramsey noted of Pete as they slowly walked off the tarmac toward the line shack to finish off their flight reports. The afternoon sun beat down thickly upon them. Pete’s flight suit clung damply to his body.

“Yeah, well, this damn Tinkertoy war is getting to me,” he griped. “Since I last saw your sister two weeks ago, we’ve been flying three to four missions a day. I haven’t had any time off to go visit her.” Pete ignored the constant movement of trucks and men, and jets taking off in the distance. Fatigue lapped at him, but despite it, his thought and, incredibly, his heart, centered on Tess. “And she never stays at Da Nang at night. What’s with her, anyway?” If Tess would come back to the base at night, Pete would have ample opportunity to see her, to chase her. It would be easy to take a jeep from Marble Mountain and drive over to the main marine facility a few miles away.

With a laugh, Gib slowed his walk as they approached the line shack. “Now you know how I feel. I wish she’d stay here at night, too—for different reasons.” Gib gave Pete a significant look laced with amusement. “But Tess is committed to her villages and the people in them.”

“She’s a one-woman show out in the bush,” Pete muttered, opening the creaking screen door to the stuffy line shack. A number of other pilots were already at the counter filling out discrepancy logs for the crew chiefs. Pete and Gib went to the small refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of soda pop.

“I get concerned about her,” Gib admitted.

“She could walk on a damned land mine out in a rice paddy at any time,” Pete said. “Or get shot at by these VC snipers that are cropping up more and more every day.”

“Or get kidnapped by the VC.”

Scratching his damp hair, Pete pursed his lips. “She’s trying to do too much. Last time I was there, she was playing doctor. Isn’t being an agricultural advisor enough?”

Gib shook his head. “No argument from me, but Tess has a great love of these people. I worry about her. This place has really drained her emotionally. I wish she hadn’t signed up for a second tour. She needs a rest....”

Sourly, Pete looked around. “Well, if you ask me, these gooks aren’t worth that kind of attention. They live in the Stone Age, they’re backward.... They don’t even have plumbing in their homes, or a commode!”

Frowning, Gib said, “Look, Pete, I know you don’t like the Vietnamese but don’t call them gooks. At least, not in front of me.”

Warned, Pete sank into silence. He reminded himself that Ramsey was exactly like his sister: a sucker for the underdogs of the world. After they’d finished debriefing and were walking back to the headquarters tent, Pete decided to test Gib.

“Hey, let me have permission to drive over to Le My. I want to see if Tess has got those pieces of plywood up.”

Ramsey shrugged. “Go ahead. Ask Tess if she’ll consider coming in tonight. Tell her I’d like to see her and catch up on what she’s been doing out there.”

The gloom that had surrounded Pete immediately dissolved. With a grin, he said, “Yes, sir, Major.” Rubbing his hands together, Pete could hardly wait to see how his gifts had made Tess’s life easier. How would she respond to him? Would she be glad to see him?

On the way over in the jeep, Pete frowned at himself. Since when had he ever felt this good about seeing a woman? His heart felt expanded, and happiness kept throbbing through him, catching him off guard. Trying to tell himself it was the “chase” that had him so pumped up, Pete ignored the other possibilities. All he wanted—no, needed—was to see Tess again. What a lucky bastard he was.

* * *

Pete went straight to Tess’s hut at the far end of the village. The children, half-naked, skinny, their eyes dancing with joy, ran all around him. Ordinarily, Pete hated the kids following him, but something was changing inside him, and he permitted them to hang around him.

“You’re a bunch of little ragamuffins,” he told them.

They looked up at him with wide smiles on their faces.

“Poor rug-rats,” he added.

More smiles.

With a grimace, Pete dug into the pocket of his flight suit and threw out five packs of gum and some chocolate bars. As the gifts hit the red dirt, the children scampered after the treasure.

By the time he got to Tess’s hut, Pete was alone. Behind him, he heard the screeches, laughter and shouts of the children vying for the cherished gum and candy. He tried to ignore the good feeling his lousy little present to the kids had created.

“Tess? It’s Pete....” He pulled the orange curtain aside. A frown gathered. She wasn’t home, but then neither were any of the gifts he’d given her. The same old worn rice mats were on the floor, and the sides of the hut were just as breezy as before. What had she done with the supplies?

Turning, Pete spotted Tess coming into the village, her black cotton pants rolled above her knees, her legs and bare feet glistening with water. She’d just come out of a rice paddy, no doubt. Even in that god-awful bamboo hat she insisted on wearing and her baggy Vietnamese clothes, she looked lovely in his eyes. Her red hair was caught up in a ponytail. He watched with studied intensity to see what kind of expression she’d have on her face when she realized he’d come to see her.

“Pete!” Tess’s heart leaped wildly, and she automatically raised her hand. He stood uncertainly by the opening of her hut, a frown on his handsome features. With a laugh, she moved into a loping trot, covering the distance more quickly. As she drew near, Tess took off the bamboo hat and ruefully touched her hair, sure to need a brushing.

“Hi, there!” she greeted warmly, coming up to where he stood. Under one arm he had a package. “This is a wonderful surprise. When did you get here?”

Hungrily, Pete drank in Tess’s open, glowing features. Momentarily, he lost his voice. How could she possibly have grown more lovely in these two long, miserable weeks? She had. All the sourness he felt washed away beneath her welcoming smile. He wanted nothing more in life than to taste those deliciously curved lips.

“Hi...just a few minutes ago.” He jabbed a thumb toward her hut. “Hey, where’s all that plywood and stuff I brought to you? You were supposed to take them for yourself.”





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