One Man's War. Lindsay McKenna
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