One Man's War (8 page)

“And the marines? Why them? You could have joined the army.”

“The doggy army?” He groaned. “No way, honey.”

“I know Gib joined the corps because our dad was a marine. It was a family tradition.” She skipped lightly over the family matter, never forgetting Pete's explosive and negative response about his mother. “What made you choose the marines?”

He eyed her. “You don't give up, do you? When you want something, you just keep chipping away until you get it.”

It was her turn to grin. “I'm like a bulldog, Pete.”

“No argument from me. The reason I liked the marines was their pride and esprit de corps. It was like a tight-knit family, I guess.” He frowned and moved the fork absently around on the white linen tablecloth in front of him. “To tell you the truth, I grew up having no pride in anything. All my friends had families...parents...a mother and father who were proud they were in college, or at the naval flight facility in Pensacola getting their wings...crap like that. I had no one who cared about what I was or wasn't doing, so I wanted to join something that had an inbred pride. Just being a marine was a big deal. It made people stop and look at me with respect. They knew I was someone special because I'd made it through boot camp and all.” He snorted and glanced up at Tess. “Sounds corny now that I've said it.”

“No,” Tess offered gently, “it sounds fine. With your background, you could've turned out a lot different. Maybe a lot worse, you know.”

He gave her a curious look. “Why is it when I get around you, I become a bleeding-heart liberal baring my dark, hopeless soul?”

“Gib always said I was a good shoulder to cry on. Maybe that's why. And you're far from hopeless.”

He ignored her comment. “What about you, Tess?” He waved the fork in her direction, frustration evident in his voice. “You've got looks, you've got brains and yet you're here—in Nam. Why? Why not be back in the States, married with a brood of kids like other American women?”

“I come from a large Texas ranch family, Pete. I'm the youngest of the brood of four, and the only girl. After Dad died unexpectedly, I watched my mama work, slave over a hot stove, and raise us.” She sighed and smiled slightly. “Maybe I wanted more, I don't know. I didn't want to be tied down like she'd been. I loved adventure and challenge, so I went out and got it after graduating with honors from Texas A & M. My first assignment as a government AID official was in the Philippines. I helped those people improve their farming methods and saw the contribution increase their food yield and better their way of living. It made me feel awfully good about myself.”

“So there's more to life than baking bread, having a husband and kids?”

“Some day, I intend to have that, too,” Tess said, meeting his sour smile.

“Do you know how different you are?”

“Yes.”

“Does it bother you?”

With a laugh, she asked, “Why should it? I'm happy with what I'm doing. I'm proud of what I've been able to accomplish. I feel needed. I belong.”

Pete sat there mulling over Tess's fervency, and her very clear-cut values. There was a confidence shining in her eyes, and well-earned pride in her work. He understood all too well about those needs being fulfilled.

“You got a boyfriend?”

Tess laughed. “Nothing like being blunt, is there?”

“Well?”

“No. Not presently.”

“You ever been engaged?”

Tess laughed lightly, as if it were no big deal. “Once,” she admitted. “When I was over in the Philippines, I met Eric Hampton. He was a Peace Corps volunteer. A really nice guy. We fell in love. It was that simple.” And that complicated, Tess wanted to add, still hurting and confused as to why Eric had drifted away from her.

Pete mulled over her story. The lights above shone on her loose, beautiful red hair. The need to touch her hair with his hand shook him. There was such gentleness in Tess. She was a strong woman, there was no doubt, but it was a woman's kind of strength.

“I can't believe any man in his right mind would have let you go,” Pete hedged, watching her facial features closely. Although she'd tried to pretend that her past love affair meant nothing to her, Pete saw differently. He saw a shadow in her eyes, pain.

“Well...”

“What did he do? Set you up to get you into his bed by dangling the right carrot in front of you? An engagement ring?”

Anger tinged her voice. “Eric didn't become engaged to me just to get me into bed. I was in love with him—or so I believed.”

He nodded thoughtfully, interested in Tess's reaction. “I don't want to burst your bubble, honey, but most men will do anything to get the woman they want into their bed. Look at me—I'm the same way.”

Tess stared at him, outraged that Pete would even suggest such a thing of Eric. “Not every man lies, Pete. Eric didn't. He was honest and so was I. It just didn't work out, that's all.”

Picking up her work-roughened hand, Pete held her wavering gaze, filled with hurt. Gently, he squeezed her fingers. “Honey, there's one good thing about me: I'll never lie to you. I'm up-front all the time. I had so many lies told to me growing up that I promised myself when I was old enough to escape the orphanage I'd never lie to myself or anyone else.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. Her flesh was warm and fragrant. “I want you, Tess Ramsey, in my arms, in my bed and with me as much as I can possibly wrangle under the circumstances.” Pete sat back, surprised by the emotion behind his line. And that was all it was—a line. Or was it? Where the hell had all these unexpected feelings come from?

Tess colored and withdrew her hand from his. His light, provocative kiss made her skin tingle wildly. His statement was just a line, Tess thought sadly. She wanted to believe Pete, and the powerful feelings his words aroused, but she didn't dare. “Actions always speak louder than words,” she challenged.

Her response hurt him. She was wary of him, justifiably so. Still, Pete had wanted Tess to believe him. “How about the rest of what I want from you?”

She took a sip of her coffee. “I don't trade myself for anything, Pete.”

“But I can get you a generator.”

“No.”

“And a pump.”

“No.”

He sighed. “You drive a hard bargain, lady.”

“You can't buy love or affection.”

Pete slanted her a wry look. “There's no such thing as love. An hour in bed together and we can share a lot. How about it?”

With a shake of her head, Tess laughed. “You're incorrigible, Pete Mallory.”

“But you like me anyway? Just a little bit?”

Tess studied his shadowed face, very much aware of his vulnerability. “If you'd shed that wall you're wearing around you like a good friend, there's an awfully nice guy under there with a big heart.
That's
the guy I'd like to get to know.”

“Then there's hope!” he crowed triumphantly.

“Only if you shed that image,” Tess warned, still chuckling.

Pete touched his shirtfront where his heart rested. “I don't know if I can...or if I want to.”

“Why? Because you're afraid of getting hurt?”

He nodded. “That's right.”

She became serious and set the coffee cup aside. “Why all this tough-guy come-on, Pete? What made you throw up this kind of image to women? The guy hiding under there's pretty nice, in my opinion.”

He tapped the fork on the linen. “When I was a kid, every foster home was like a new possibility that a family would adopt me...want me....” He avoided the word
love.
By that time, he'd had no idea what the feeling was supposed to be all about. The tapping grew quicker on the table. “At every house, I found out I was wanted to a certain extent, but usually I was an errand boy doing this, that and the other thing. I felt like a damned servant more than a part of the family.” He lifted his chin and stopped tapping the fork. “So, I got tough. I quit trying to reach out to be something for them.”

Tess's heart ached for Pete. Reaching over, she took the fork out of his hand and put it aside. “I like the man inside the wall he hides behind.” She placed her hand over his and held his dark gaze. “In some cases, you're all talk, and I know that, Pete. Your actions have spoken for you sometimes, and I like what I see.”

He gripped her hand, her voice ladened with emotion. “Yeah?” he croaked. Something about Tess made him want to come out from behind that wall.

“Yeah.” She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to his recently shaven cheek. “Come on, I've got to get back to the tent. I have to get out to the village early tomorrow morning. We're starting to lay bamboo pipe from the well.”

Just the soft brush of her lips against his flesh sent a bolt of heat and longing through Pete. He sat there for a moment, stunned by her ability to fearlessly show herself and her feelings. The fact that she'd kissed him made him feel great. As he released her hand—reluctantly—and stood up to slide her chair back for her, he gazed down at her.

“No sack time for that pump, huh?”

She stood and smiled. “No.”

“I had to try.”

“I know.”

“Damn, woman. Come on, I'll drive you back to the barracks.”

Tess left the O club with Pete, his hand resting lightly on her elbow. A feeling of danger moved through her. She was on highly unstable emotional ground with Pete. He'd finally leveled with her, finally trusted her with a small bit of himself. The discovery made her giddy and cautious. There was a fine human being under that rough Marine Corps pilot facade, and she wanted to know him. But at what cost to herself? And to her heart?

A
week later, Pete found Tess standing near a dike, up to her knees in a rice paddy. He had counted the days, hours and minutes until he could see her again. As he sauntered out onto the dike, dressed in his flight suit, he smiled when Tess looked up and spotted him.

“Hi, Pete,” she greeted, straightening.

The late-morning sun slanted and Pete was glad he had his dark aviator glasses and utility cap drawn low to shade him from the blinding glare. He grinned and came to a halt, his hands resting arrogantly on his hips.

“Now, what kind of people get turned on by rice?” he wanted to know.

Standing in the murky, muddy water, Tess said archly, “Brides, ministers and agricultural experts.”

He thrilled to her welcoming smile and the warmth in her eyes that he knew was for him alone. These once-a-week visits were for the birds. Pete wanted to see Tess a hell of a lot more often. “You really find this exciting?” he asked with a flourish of his hand to the surrounding squares of water holding the thin blades of rice.

“Rice has a certain charm,” Tess said, wading closer to the edge of the paddy.

“Compared to what?”

Grinning, Tess leaned over and stroked one of the long slender blades. “Compared to jocks like you.”

Pete shrugged, thinking how lovely Tess looked despite her damned Vietnamese dress. “You know, if you eat rice, it'll slant your eyes.”

Tess laughed and stared up at him. Pete looked so proud and confident standing there. A smile lurked at the corners of her mouth. “Are my eyes slanted?”

“No. Do you eat rice?”

“Every day. Shoots down your prejudicial theory, doesn't it, Mallory?”

“How do I know you haven't had cosmetic surgery to correct the condition?”

“You're impossible.” Tess laughed as she placed her foot on the dry soil of the dike to climb out.

Pete extended his hand and grabbed hers. With a haphazard grin, he flung back, “So are you.”

Once up on the dike, Tess unrolled the damp, dark blue baggy slacks until the material brushed her bare feet. She looked over at Pete and felt heat cascade through her under his predatory gaze. The sensation was exciting and unnerving. She pushed the damp red tangle of her hair away from her cheek.

“You have a gloating look on your face,” Tess decided.

“Now, is that any way to greet the man of your dreams after not seeing him for a week?”

“Oh, brother.”

“Tess...” Pete reached out as she started to walk past him. He gently snagged her arm and brought her around until she was standing inches away from him. He gazed down into her lustrous green eyes. “Not even a little hello kiss?”

Her eyes glimmered. “You're such a rascal,” she said, and turned away. “Come on, let's get down off this dike.”

He followed and caught up with her. “You sound worried. Has there been sniper fire?”

Tess nodded. “Yes, but please don't tell Gib, or he'll come out here and get into a rip-roaring argument about me staying at the village at night instead of my tent in Da Nang. We've had enough fights about it in the past month.”

Once they were down off the dike and standing in the greenery that skirted the area, Pete gripped her arm worriedly and slowed her to a stop. “Hey, what's happened?”

With a grimace, Tess muttered, “Two days ago the VC stole the chief's youngest son, Do Hung. We don't know where they've taken him. The chief thinks it's their way of punishing the village because more and more marines are walking across his farmlands in order to hunt VC.”

“Did you report this to the base?” Pete demanded, genuinely worried more for Tess than for the son.

“Yes, but the marines will never find Hung.” Frowning, Tess whispered, “I'm afraid they'll kill him as an example to the chief and other villagers to stop fraternizing with the Americans.”

The terrible realization that Tess could be kidnapped or killed drenched Pete. His hand tightened on her arm. “Then you have to start coming in at night, Tess. Now, don't give me that look, dammit. You know I'm right. If the VC captured Hung, what makes you think you won't be next? Or what about that sniper you just mentioned? You could be killed. Be reasonable for once, will you?”