Ride the Tiger (11 page)

“I understand,” Gib said. He began to truly comprehend the commitment and responsibility Dany had to her extended family. Silently, he commended her for her loyalty and love. “Listen, I'll call you as soon as I know anything.”

Sniffing, Dany whispered, “Thank you.”

Gib slowly replaced the receiver. The adrenaline rush was ebbing, leaving him shaky in its wake. The incident had triggered the same reaction in him as when he was in the cockpit flying a dangerous mission. He left the tent and headed back to the MASH unit to wait. Sooner or later, he'd return to Marble Mountain to face squadron problems and responsibilities. Rubbing his face, Gib took a ragged breath. He needed Dany just as much as she needed him right now. Yet there was a chasm between them. She saw him as a transient GI, incapable of loyalty or responsibility toward her. And deep in his heart, he knew Dany would never leave Vietnam or her land, that she was tied to it by her bitter past. Only the land had remained loyal to Dany.

With a muffled curse, Gib continued to walk slowly toward the tents and helicopter landing pad. Life without war was tough enough, but with the wartime situation thrown in on top of everything else, Gib felt as if he were drowning in complexities he had no idea how to face. Maybe getting back to his squadron would help dissolve some of his present feeling of helplessness.

* * *

Gib was waiting at the MASH unit two hours later when his sister, Tess, walked in. He lifted his head, feeling some of the heaviness he carried on his shoulders dissolve at the sight of her. The baby of the family, she was tall with red hair and a generous sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

“Hi,” Tess greeted him worriedly. Her gray gaze immediately fell to her brother's shirt and the blood on it. “I just heard....”

Gib rose and gave her a lame smile. “How?”

“I called over to your squadron and they told me you were here on a medevac emergency.” Tess approached and gripped his hand momentarily, her eyes shadowed with concern. “Are you okay? You look like hell.”

He smiled tiredly. “I feel like hell. Come on, have a seat and I'll fill you in. Are you in from your villages for the night?” Ordinarily Tess had to be dragged from one of the three villages where she worked as a U.S. AID advisor. She hated having to stay at the military base, which was supposed to be mandatory. She would rather sleep in one of the village huts with the people she had grown to love during her past fourteen months in Vietnam.

Tess smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She took a metal chair and sat next to him. “Tell me what's going on. Captain Kincaid said it had to do with a civilian casualty at the Villard plantation.”

Gib hung his head for a moment, then looked up at his sister. Over the next fifteen minutes, he filled Tess in on the details.

“That's awful, Gib. You really like Vinh, don't you?”

He snorted and stretched out his legs in front of him. Staring darkly at his loafers, he muttered, “Who wouldn't?” He slanted a glance over at Tess. “Until very recently, war was war, and I didn't have contact with the civilians like you do.”

“But that's changed,” Tess observed, her voice soft with his pain.

“Yeah, damn it, I guess it has. I mean, the boy drew this picture for me, Tess. I'll show it to you. He's talented...I mean,
was.
”

“Now you begin to understand some of what I go through every day out in the three villages I'm charged with taking care of.”

Gib shook his head and gripped Tess's work-worn hand. “I don't know how you do it, Tess. The pain I'm feeling for Vinh hurts so damn much. I don't think I could take what you see on a daily basis. I really don't.”

She smiled gently. “Men are very brittle emotionally,” she teased him. “I've always said women were the stronger of the two genders, and now I know I'm right.”

Gib looked at his sister strangely. “You see things like this all the time. Doesn't it get to you?”

“Sure it does.”

“How do you deal with it?”

Her smile was wry. “I cry a lot.” And then her smile disappeared. “Have you cried yet? For Vinh? For yourself and Dany?”

Grimly, he shook his head. “I haven't cried since I got here.”

“That's a long time,” Tess whispered, giving him a worried look. “This is your second tour, Gib.”

“It hurts to feel, Tess. Don't go getting on my case right now about it, okay? I feel like I'm going to explode inside, and I don't want you in my sights if I do.”

She released his hand and stood up. “You know, every time you mention Dany Villard's name, your voice grows soft. Is she special to you?”

Gib shrugged. “It's one-way, if she is,” he growled.

Placing her hands in the pockets of her one-piece tan uniform, Tess watched him for a moment without speaking. Finally, she asked, “Dany doesn't like you?”

Again, Gib shrugged. “She sees me as nothing more than a transient GI, someone who will walk out of her world and abandon her after my tour's up.”

“That doesn't mean she doesn't like you.”

Gib was always amazed at Tess's ability to clarify muddy situations. Unwillingly, he was realizing the depth of his emotional involvement with Dany—although he'd never even kissed her yet. Clearing his throat, he rasped, “Actually, I think she does. Every time we get together, it's like putting oil on fire. I see this look in her eyes, this longing. Sometimes I hear it in her voice....” He shut his eyes and rubbed them wearily. A sweet, hot memory of their near-kiss at her plantation sheared through him, momentarily erasing his grief and worry for Vinh. “There's something there,” he said flatly, and removed his hands from his eyes. “But it's going nowhere.”

“Sure it will.”

“You're such an optimist.”

With a laugh, Tess said, “Usually, you are, too. I can see Dany really means something to you, Gib. Just be patient with her. I've heard a lot of good things about her from the villages that border on her plantation. The people like her. She's got an unblemished reputation for being fair and generous.”

Generous was the right word, Gib decided with agony. “She helps the poor, and she treats her people like family.”

“I hope to meet her someday soon. Now that you have this on-again, off-again relationship with her, I'm sure I will.”

“I think you two would like each other. You sure share one thing in common: farming and the land.”

“As if you don't! You're a rancher at heart, Gib Ramsey. Owning a pair of wings doesn't take the Texas sand out of your flight boots.”

Her lilting laughter lifted his depressed spirit. “Dany says the same thing. She thinks I ought to hang up my wings and put on my cowboy boots again.”

Sobering, Tess shrugged. “With the way the situation is escalating here, that's not a bad idea.” She sat back down. “I'm going to hang around with you until you hear about Vinh. Besides, it will give us time to catch up. I've hardly seen you in the last three weeks.”

Grateful for Tess's presence, Gib felt some of the pain in his heart ease. Dusk was settling over the area taking the edge off the humidity, but not by much. Gib found himself wanting to know Vinh's condition for more than one reason. He ached to hear Dany's voice. Sooner or later, he'd be back at Marble Mountain making that call to her. It couldn't come too soon, he decided. He needed to hear her voice.

* * *

It was 2000, and darkness was complete when Gib climbed out of the jeep that he'd hitched a ride in from Da Nang. Thanking the driver, he headed directly for his tent, which doubled as a second office for him when he wasn't at squadron headquarters. Opening the door, he left it ajar to allow the stuffiness to abate as he crossed to his small desk and sat down.

Quiet descended within the tent. In the distance, he could hear the whine of helicopters winding up and, very faintly, the rumble of jets taking off from Da Nang. With a sigh, Gib sat back and stared at the green canvas wall opposite. His gaze moved to the black telephone on his desk. Now that he knew Vinh's condition, he could call Dany. She hadn't left his mind or heart throughout the long vigil. How was she faring? Once again, she had to be the strong one to support Vinh's relatives through this latest ordeal. Damn it,
she
needed some support! Angry because he had to be at the base and not where he wanted to be—with her—he picked up the receiver. Just the husky sweetness of her voice would take away the terrible emotions bubbling within him, he thought. Just her voice.

* * *

Dany jerked awake when the phone rang. She was lying on the couch in the drawing room, dozing and waiting for Gib's call. Groggily, she got up and stumbled over to the mahogany desk. Her pulse sped up as she answered.

“Hello?”

“Dany? It's Gib. I've just come back from Da Nang. Vinh's out of surgery and in recovery. The surgeon who operated on him says he's going to make it.”

Relief shattered through her. “Oh, thank God. Thank God...”

“The doc said the reason Vinh survived at all was because we put that tourniquet on his upper arm as soon as we did. Otherwise, he'd have died from loss of blood. We did good work, Dany. I'm proud of us.”

Pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead, Dany closed her eyes, suddenly shaky. “Thank you, Gib. I've got to go. I've got to tell Vinh's parents and Ma Ling. They'll be so happy.” Her voice broke. “I owe you so much for what you did.”

“You don't owe me a thing.”

The gritty rasp of his voice blanketed Dany. Rallying beneath his concern, she whispered, “I can never repay you, Gib. You're a good man.”

“Look, Dany, I didn't want to say this, especially not now, but it needs to be discussed. I don't see how you're going to remain neutral. The Americans pass your plantation all the time. What if some marine stops for water or directions? It's going to be impossible to keep both the Americans and ARVNs off your property. Please rethink your position.”

Frustration and anger wove through Dany. Her grip on the phone tightened. “You don't understand, Gib! For thirty-five years we've managed to live in peaceful coexistence with
all
people and politics.”

“The situation is different this time, Dany.”

“Wars are all the same! When the Vietminh rose up against the French, my father was enough of a diplomat to keep all sides from destroying his plantation. I've got to do the same. I have to carry on that tradition, no matter the cost to me personally. I owe it to the people who have lived on the plantation since it began, Gib. I owe it to their families, to the children. They have a better quality of life, better care than if they lived in a village, and I know it. I'm not letting them down, Gib. I'll never do that,” she quavered.

“I'm sorry I brought it up. You're worn out. Let's talk about this some other time when you're feeling up to it.”

Pain jagged through Dany, and she bit her lower lip hard. “No, Gib,” she whispered. “This can't be let go.” She took a ragged breath. “I can't allow you ever to come back to the plantation again. I don't dare.”

“What?”

“Don't you understand? Your presence at the plantation has made the VC suspicious of my neutrality.” Her voice grew hoarse. “As much as I might want to keep seeing you, Gib, I can't.”

“Dany, listen to me—”

With a little cry, Dany whispered, “Do you think I want to? If only you weren't American! If only you weren't a marine! Oh, God, it won't work, Gib. It can't. Please, I've got to hang up. Promise me you'll call and let me know how soon Vinh's parents can come and visit him at the hospital?”

“Sure, I will,” he agreed glumly. “But Dany, we need to talk—”

“No! It's no use, Gib. Goodbye.”

Dany hung up the receiver and stood, her eyes tightly shut, fighting the sobs that threatened to rise in her throat. She felt as if half of her had just died. Gib was a good man, a fine one. He was everything she'd ever dreamed and wished for. But it couldn't work. He was a GI—someone who would leave at the end of his tour. She couldn't—wouldn't—risk her heart, her emotions, on such a one-sided affair. Her responsibility was to her people, to the plantation. They had to come first. They just had to.

Miserably Dany opened her eyes and padded barefoot through the house to awaken Ma Ling and Vinh's parents. She knew they would be overjoyed to hear Vinh had survived the operation and was going to live. She trudged out the door, feeling gutted inwardly by the terrible decision she'd had to make about Gib.

After notifying everyone involved, Dany changed into black pants and a black cotton overblouse. It was one o'clock in the morning as she grimly descended the stairs and walked past the village at the rear of the house. Tonight, whether she wanted to or not, she must talk to Binh Duc. Dany hated the VC chieftain, but she had no options left. She had to know if he was declaring war upon the Villard plantation.

She walked down one of the long avenues of rubber trees, the only light provided by the quarter moon that had risen in the east. Dany walked alone, unafraid on her own property. Her heart beat unrelentingly in her breast. Binh Duc was completely without conscience. It wasn't beyond him to kill her if he flew into one of the insane rages he was famous for. Taking a deep, ragged breath, Dany continued to walk quickly, swallowed by the night. She knew his soldiers stayed near the boundary of her property, so she'd have no problem locating one of them to take her to Duc.

Other feelings crowded into her heart. The fact that she was completely alone and that no one else could help her struck Dany fully. It was a bitter acknowledgement that filled her with a desperate kind of emptiness. She had been crazy to entertain any thought of Gib possibly being part of her life, helping bear her burdens. It was best that she told Gib never to come back. Dany pressed her hand against her heart to stop herself from crying. Gathering her strewn emotions, she tried to prepare herself to meet Duc.