One Man's War (3 page)

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.”