“He’s dead,” one of the teens said. He was kneeling over Frank, his fingers on the carotid artery of the gunman’s neck.
“Good,” Nolan snarled. “Get his pistol. And stay alert. There could be more of the Diablo gang around.”
Worried murmurs rippled through the group. They quickly formed a protective circle around Nolan and Rhona.
All his focus, all his life energy was trained on Rhona as her lashes lifted. Her eyes were confused and turgid-looking, he noted. When she lifted her hand weakly, he caught it and held it tightly in his.
“You’re okay, Rhona, you’re okay….” he breathed. Leaning over, he ran his trembling hand across her head which was covered with dust and bits of grass.
Nolan’s voice penetrated Rhona’s consciousness. When she opened her eyes and saw his frantic expression—the terror banked in his narrowed green gaze—she wondered if she was dead. Bits and pieces of the gun battle drifted back to her. As Nolan caught her hand, and she felt its warm pressure, sure and steadying, she decided she wasn’t dead after all. The last thing she remembered was the savage look on Frank’s face as he’d pulled the trigger to kill her.
“N-Nolan?” Her voice was wobbly. “You’re okay?”
He laughed unsteadily. “Me, darlin’? I’m fine. Fine! It’s you I was worried about.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her furrowed forehead. “You’re okay, Rhona. The vest stopped the bullets. You aren’t dying, thank God. You’ve got three hellacious bruises where the bullets hit your vest, but you’re going to be okay—” He choked up abruptly.
Nolan couldn’t stop caressing her head. He needed to touch her. The love spilling through him right now was like a river, like a mountain cataract, powerful and unrestrained. Cupping her chin, he leaned very close so she could hear him. Speaking in a low tone, enunciating every word clearly so that she would understand him, he told her, “Just lie still. Get your bearings. I love you, Rhona. Just know that. Hang on to that. I’m here. I’ll protect you….”
His words flowed like balm over her shattered emotions. Rhona clung to his gaze, the words sinking into her consciousness, calming her pounding heart. She felt as if her body was one huge ache, throbbing with fire where the bullets had struck her vest. But she was going to live! The tears in Nolan’s eyes convinced her that was real. She wasn’t dead, she was alive! And Nolan was here at her side, leaning over her. His mouth was contorted, and he seemed close to tears. The way he gripped her hand was almost painful, but that felt good to her because it reassured her she wasn’t dead, but alive.
“The gunman?” she croaked.
Nolan briefly lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. “Dead.”
“Oh, no….” Rhona closed her eyes again. Pain and regret assailed her, like razors slashing into her heart.
“Oh, no?” Nolan snorted violently. He released her hand and pulled her into his arms. Rhona sighed and rested her head against his shoulder, eyes closed. “You killed him out of self-defense,” Nolan whispered raggedly, holding her tightly against him. He looked up. Señor Gonzalez was approaching, terror clearly visible in his pale features. One of the young men rushed to his side and told him that Rhona was all right. Instantly the elder’s face was flooded with relief.
All his assistants were spooked, however, and looked around nervously. Nolan didn’t feel safe, either. Where there was one Diablo gang member, there were probably more. He gathered Rhona against him, pressed a kiss to her smudged, pale cheek and whispered. “Come on, try to stand. I need to get you out of here and to the base hospital. You need medical help. Can you stand up?”
Everything seemed to be shorting out around Rhona. She’d been in combat before, so she recognized the symptoms. Her only contact with reality right now was the feel of Nolan’s arms around her. Gripping his hand, she nodded and pushed herself upward. With his help, she stood. Immediately she felt flashes of severe pain, and she groaned and pressed her hand against her abdomen. Nausea followed.
“I think I’m gonna heave,” she whispered.
Nolan nodded. “That’s okay,” he breathed raggedly. “That’s okay, darlin’. Do what you have to do….”
Just seeing the gunman’s unmoving body made her gag. Rhona felt as if she were in an ongoing nightmare. Her knees buckling, she leaned down and vomited. Nolan held her by the shoulders, his body a bulwark to lean against as she heaved out the terror that clawed violently in her belly. Tears streaked through the dirt on her face.
Someone, a young Latino, pushed toward her a damp piece of cloth he’d torn from his T-shirt, so she could wipe her mouth and runny nose afterward. She was touched by his thoughtfulness and kindness. The care made Rhona cry. Every face around her was filled with such concern for her.
Rhona didn’t feel right. She hadn’t sustained a bullet wound, but felt gut-punched. Pain was ripping up and down from her abdomen to her collarbone. Somehow, Nolan helped her clean up, and someone handed her a bottle of water so she could rinse out her mouth.
Many hands helped to lift her from her kneeling position and walk her gently to the Huey. En route, Rhona turned her head, unable to look at her attacker. She’d taken a life, and that shattered her in another way. This was different than the Gulf War. Or was it? Her emotions were shredded.
As Nolan eased her into the copilot’s seat and strapped her in, all she could do was sit there and stare ahead like a zombie. Rhona felt torn apart, as if she were in a bad movie where everything happened in slow motion. The sensation was familiar, for she’d felt it as she’d held Jake in her arms while he bled to death beside the crashed helicopter.
Nolan got Consuelo strapped into the back seat for the ride to the hospital. She was very pale and holding her swollen belly. The gunfight must have rattled her deeply.
After sliding the door shut and locking it, Nolan squeezed between the seats.
He patted Rhona’s drooping shoulder gently. “We’re going home, darlin’. Just hang on, okay?”
Rhona looked in his direction. Everything was still happening in slow motion. She knew it was shock. Nolan’s voice sounded as if it was coming from a tunnel, as if he was far, far away from her.
The sound of the door shutting, the hum of the engine revving, and the sight of Nolan’s hands flying across the cockpit panel to get the bird operational were oddly soothing to Rhona. She was alive. Nolan was alive. They’d survived.
Closing her eyes, Rhona tipped her head back against the seat rest. The main thought throbbing through her heart and brain was the memory that Nolan had said he loved her. Even more powerful was the raw, naked feeling that told her she loved him, too, with a fierceness that defied description.
January 11: 1500
“How are you feeling?” Nolan asked, as he came to stand next to the bed where Rhona lay. She was in a hospital room with four other patients, so he kept his voice low. When he’d walked in, still dressed in his flight suit, she’d appeared to be sleeping. But as he approached, she opened her eyes and looked toward the door where he stood, as she sensed his presence. Nolan saw that the other three patients in the room, all civilians, were in a lot worse shape than Rhona was. Still, they watched Nolan and Rhona together with varying degrees of interest. They had nothing better to do, Nolan realized.
Smiling tenderly down at Rhona, he reached out and caught her hand as she lifted it toward him. Dressed in a pale blue cotton gown, she looked drained, her recently washed black hair framing her drawn features. When he slid his fingers around hers, her hand felt damp and cool.
“I’m okay….” Rhona whispered.
“Liar.”
One corner of her mouth lifted. “Can’t fool you, can I?”
“Why would you want to, darlin’?” He saw her lashes close. They were beaded with tears. “I just talked to the doc, and she said you’re going to feel beat-up, black-and-blue, for a good two weeks after this little incident.”
Nodding, Rhona swallowed hard, opened her eyes and looked at Nolan as he rested an arm on the
stainless steel bar that bordered her bed. His other hand squeezed hers, as that charming Irish smile settled on his strong male mouth.
“Yes, I know,” Rhona replied. “The doctor just left about ten minutes ago. Did you see Morgan? Laura?”
“Yeah, that’s where I just came from. They’re upset, but relieved to hear you’re still around. Morgan is going to drop by and see you as soon as he can, but he’s in a meeting right now.” Lifting her hand, Nolan kissed the back of it gently, his mouth lingering.
A sigh rippled from her. “I was never so scared, Nolan. I—well, I wasn’t sure what to do. The teenagers were a wall around you. I couldn’t just come in with gun blazing. I didn’t want to hurt them.”
“Listen, darlin’, you did a helluva good job in a situation even a Recon Marine would double up over. There was no target opportunity. You did the exact right thing.”
“I was so scared he was going to kill you….” She gave a sob, then got hold of her emotions.
Leaning over, Nolan brushed a tear from her cheekbone. “My life was passin’ before my eyes, Rhona. I knew I was going to die.”
“You refused to tell him where I was.”
Continuing to gently stroke her damp cheek with his fingertips, he said in a raspy tone, “There’s not a chance I’d ever have told that bastard where you were. I knew he meant business. He’d have killed both of us, Rhona. Just like he did my two friends…and…” Nolan shut his eyes for a moment, wrestling with his emotions. Opening them, he whispered, “No way was I going to put you into the line of fire.”
“You were giving your life for me.”
Shrugging, he tried to buck her up. “You’re worth a helluva lot more than the likes of me, darlin’. Of course I’d give my life for you.” More tears were leaking from the corners of her eyes. The doctor had warned him that Rhona would cycle up and down emotionally for a number of days, as she got over the shock of nearly dying. Because of this, the doctor had urged Nolan to be a witness, a set of ears, a shoulder to cry on if that’s what Rhona needed, in order to heal herself after her ordeal. That was an easy prescription for him to fill. He loved her, so it wasn’t a duty, it was a blessing in disguise.
With her other hand, she shakily tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. “You were worth saving, Nolan Galway.”
Giving her a look of pride, he whispered, “You’re one courageous woman, Rhona. I wasn’t looking for rescue. All I wanted was for you to escape that bastard. I wanted you to live….”
Sniffing, Rhona said, “Help me sit up? My gut feels like it’s been beat with baseball bats.”
Placing his arm behind her shoulders, Nolan helped to reposition her. Stuffing several pillows behind her back, he fluffed them up until he was satisfied she was comfortable.
Dragging her fingers through her hair, Rhona held his lingering green gaze. “I don’t want to stay here, Nolan. The doctor said she was giving me a sick chit for seven days. She said I had a room reserved over at the B.O.Q. Could you bring my clothes from our tent? My flight uniform is literally shot to hell and I can’t wear it. They cut it off me in the emergency room.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I saw. Sure, I’ll bring your civilian clothes over.”
“I don’t like hospitals. Besides, I’m not hurt. They can use this bed for someone who really needs it.” Not only that, the smell of antiseptic was strong, and it always turned Rhona’s stomach.
Patting her shoulder, he said, “No problem. I understand.”
“What about you, Nolan? What’s going to happen now that they’ve taken me off flight duty for a week? Have the replacement pilots come in yet? Are you still flying or did they put you on flight waivers, too?”
“Nah, I can fly, as long as they can get me a replacement copilot. They gave me forty-eight hours, though.” His eyes gleamed. “They authorized me a room at the B.O.Q., too.” His mouth curved faintly. “Think we can share a room instead? I don’t know about you, but tonight I’d like to share a nice, soft bed with the woman I’ve fallen in love with. I have a lot I want to share with her, tell her. What do you think, darlin’?”
Sniffing, Rhona gave him a warm, helpless look. “You’re so brazen, Galway.”
“Upon occasion. Especially once I’ve made up my mind about something.”
Not wanting to talk of their personal lives where Rhona was sure three other patients were listening, she reached out and grazed his unshaved chin. “Yes, let’s share a room. Can you take care of the details?”
“After you saving my no-good arse, I think I can handle something simple like that for us,” he teased. Leaning over, he placed a chaste, warm kiss on her temple. “Just rest, Rhona. I’ll be back sooner than you think….”
She sat there, her legs crossed beneath the light blue coverlet, her hands in her lap. Emotionally, Rhona felt like she was on a roller coaster. Gently touching her deeply bruised, swollen abdomen, she grimaced. Nolan’s certainty about his love for her was scary. And wonderful. Frowning, she reached for the glass of water on the bedstand nearby. Just having the ability to drink a glass of water when she needed it wasn’t wasted on her. No, out there in the basin, people were slowly dehydrating to the point that they would begin to die because there wasn’t enough water. Luckily, Camp Reed had a series of wells. The earthquake hadn’t shattered them, so they were in good working order. Everyone on the military base had all the water they wanted.
Looking toward the door, Rhona felt herself pining for Nolan. How could he have taken root in her heart so soon? She was mystified and stunned by it all. She ached to be in his arms, just to be held, because right now, in the aftermath of that horrible shoot-out, she felt like a scared little girl. Worse, she had taken another human’s life. Oh, it was true she’d been in the navy, but she’d flown troop and cargo helicopters that weren’t armed. She was willing to give her life for her country, but the thought of taking another human’s life hadn’t been a part of her reality. And now it had happened.
Pressing her hands to her face, she found her shoulders shaking as she cried silently. She cried for the family of the gunman, whose name, she’d learned, was Frank. Just because he was bad didn’t mean a mother wasn’t going to miss her son, or sisters wouldn’t miss their brother. Or a father wouldn’t grieve. Life was precious. And all around them, life and death were entwined, the wall between almost transparent in the aftermath of the quake. She knew, more than ever, that every moment, every hour, was precious and should be lived to the utmost.
She had just found love in the most unexpected place, at the most unexpected time. Nolan, who had been her enemy, was now her lover…or soon to be. Rhona could not deny the love she felt for him. It had engulfed her like a volcanic eruption as she realized his life was being threatened. Something primeval, surprising and powerful had overwhelmed her fear and anxiety as she’d risked her own life to save his. That’s what people in love did: they took care of one another through thick and thin, in good and bad circumstances. Yes, she loved him. But what did it all mean? Rhona wanted nothing more than to be in a quiet room, alone, with Nolan. They had so much to talk about, to share…to show one another with loving touches. So much, in a world gone insane.
Ten
January 18: 0030
“It’s our last night together here. We’d better enjoy it,” Rhona murmured as she lifted the covers to share the bed with Nolan.
Nolan felt Rhona slide into the soft, large bed and snuggle up to him, her naked form against his. How easy it was to slip his arm beneath her neck and shoulder and bring her into the circle of his embrace.
“No need to convince me,” he said, laughing softly as he pressed several small kisses to her freshly washed hair.
“Seven days of enforced sick leave and I’m going bats,” Rhona muttered, as she closed her eyes and relaxed against his hard, warm body. It was midnight, and Nolan had just finished the last of his duties at Ops before coming over to the B.O.Q. to share the room with her.
Chuckling, Nolan moved
his hand with fond familiarity across her strong, lean back. “Well, come 0500 tomorrow, you’re going to be my copilot again, and you, too, can put in twelve-hour days.” He felt her purr with satisfaction. Already, his body was hardening with need of her, as always. Because of her injuries, they’d agreed not to try and love one another the past six days. Rhona had been too sore and bruised to do much of anything at first. She’d had hot baths, used ice packs on her bruised flesh and slept a lot to catch up on what she lost to nightmares each night. She’d even begun to lend a willing hand at the hospital during the day. She couldn’t just stay in this room and do nothing. While Nolan flew today, she’d worked with Laura Trayhern and helped feed the babies in the nursery, which overflowed with new arrivals.
“Mmm, I can hardly wait. I’m bored to death around here,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his recently shaved jaw. Sharing a shower with Nolan had been an incredibly heated experience. Rhona ached to love him fully, to claim him and share with him. Tonight was the night.
For Nolan, it had been six of the most exquisite, torturous days of his life. But it had also been enriching in so many ways. Because although he could not share sexual gratification with Rhona, every night he looked forward to the precious hours he’d spend with her in his arms. They would talk of the day’s events. More importantly, Nolan knew, he’d listen as Rhona talked, divesting herself of the guilt, anger, depression and anxieties that grew out of the shooting of the Diablo gang member.
There was a special satisfaction in talking deep into the night, with her wrapped in his arms. The warm, exploratory kisses, the touches meant to caress and heal her, were ways that Nolan could tell her he loved her. No, this past week had been hell on earth for him, physically speaking, but the time had given them the rare gifts of being able to explore and learn more about one another. To become friends before they became lovers.
Rhona looked at Nolan’s profile above her. The lights outside the B.O.Q. filtered in through the closed drapes, giving just enough of a glow to see his strong, rakish face.
Ride the Thunder Page 12