Dawn of Valor

by Lindsay McKenna

  Chase saw her tuck her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s a wonder you’re still able to walk,” he said quietly. “You’ve been without food for over twenty-four hours, then.”

  “I guess,” Rachel admitted wearily. “To tell you the truth, our concern was getting the patients to safety. None of us wanted them to fall into enemy hands.”

  There was a quiet kind of courage about her, Chase realized, seeing Rachel in a new and interesting light. “And I’ll bet you worked harder than anyone.” His fingers tightened perceptibly on her shoulder. So much bravery in such a small powder keg of a woman.

  Lifting her head, Rachel stared over at Chase. “I was the head surgery nurse. It was my responsibility to make sure everything was taken care of.”

  “And you never stopped to eat.”

  “No…stupid, huh?”

  He managed a thin smile, trying to cover his pain. “Commendable in my eyes.” Squeezing her shoulder, he reluctantly pulled his hand away. If he kept it there any longer, Chase knew he’d be unable to resist stroking the clean line of her jaw, trailing his fingers down the length of her lovely neck in an exploratory gesture.

  Rallying beneath his sudden, unexpected tenderness, Rachel tried to smile. “Commendable or not, I’ve got to eat these things.”

  “Put them in that stream back there for about ten minutes. The water’s cold. It will firm them up.”

  Taking the mussels to the stream, Rachel found a spot to place them in the water, then sat waiting. In the shadows, Chase’s face was strong and hard looking. Meeting his gaze, however, Rachel felt the warmth reach out from him and gently hold her captive. She wrapped her arms around her drawn-up legs.

  “I haven’t even asked how you feel,” Rachel offered softly.

  “Better and worse,” Chase admitted, pointing to his head. “I don’t feel as dizzy, but I feel grouchier.” He gave her an apologetic look. “You already know that, though.”

  Rachel smiled acceptance of the unspoken apology. “It’s understandable. You’ve got a four-inch gash that needs to be sewn shut. Your skull isn’t broken, but you really scrambled your brain when you hit the tail of your plane.”

  “I’ve got good news and bad news for you, then,” Chase answered with a careless grin. He dug into another pocket of his flight suit. “The good news is, I’ve got a needle and thread.” He produced a small first aid kit. “There’s a pair of scissors in there, too. The bad news is, I know what you’re going to do with them.”

  Delighted with the discovery of the medical items, Rachel crawled back to where he sat, opening the case. “I didn’t know you guys carried things like this.” Indeed, the kit contained antiseptic, bandages and various other first aid articles.

  “Don’t sound so happy. I don’t really want anyone to touch my head.”

  Rachel smiled, holding his unhappy gaze. “Your head will hurt less when I get done patching you up, Capt—Chase.”

  Rallying beneath her attempt to be friendly, he shrugged his broad shoulders. “While your mussels are chilling to the perfect eating temperature, why don’t you sew up my thick skull, doc?”

  Rachel didn’t need another invitation. Chase sat stoically, lips compressed, eyes narrowed, not uttering a word of protest as she cleaned the wound and sewed it shut. She had lost count of how many times she had sewn up the minor wounds of men. To ease their discomfort, Rachel always chatted with them in soothing tones. It was no different with Chase.

  “You said your father was in the service?”

  Chase closed his eyes. Although Rachel was delicate, it was still painful. “Yeah. I come from a hundred-and-eighty-year family tradition of military service. He was a general in the Army when he retired. My two brothers and I went into various branches of the service. Boyd’s in the Marine Corps, Steve’s in the navy and I’m in the air force.”

  Laughing huskily, Rachel said, “Are you the oldest?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  “Because you’re bossy and a know-it-all.”

  Chase grinned sardonically. He was delighted with her lightning-quick retorts. “Then you must be firstborn, too.”

  “I was an only child.”

  “That explains it.”

  “What?”

  “Taking over,” he explained. If the sewing hadn’t been so damned uncomfortable, Chase would have enjoyed Rachel’s closeness. Her body was fractions of an inch from his shoulder and arm. The musky scent of her made him dizzy in a new and enjoyable way. It would be so easy to curve his arm around her, drawing her against him.

  “Taking over is fully acceptable if a man does it—he’s called a leader. But if a woman tries to lead, she’s called bossy and told she doesn’t know her place.” Rachel leaned over, catching the agony in his stormy eyes. So far, Chase hadn’t uttered a groan. “Or, am I putting words in your mouth?”

  He grimaced, holding her smiling gaze. Saucy wench. You’ve got the upper hand right now, but that will change. And when it does, I’ll be the one who’s smiling. “I guess it’s all right if a woman leads. Once in a while.”

  Chuckling, Rachel completed the job, dressing the wound and wrapping a clean bandage around his head. “If I hadn’t led us, we’d be captured right now. Don’t you think you ought to reevaluate women and their abilities?”

  “Maybe,” Chase grumped. He shot her a dark look. “You’re still going the wrong direction, you know.”

  “My father taught me directions when I was seven years old. You’re still disoriented and in shock from your wound, Chase. In another day or two, you’ll see that we are going the right direction—south.” Rachel delighted in their parrying with each other. She couldn’t even be defensive about his last comment. Somehow Chase made her feel giddy and happy as no other man had. Gently knotting the bandage, Rachel dropped her hands to her thighs, sitting next to Chase.

  Carefully touching his newly bandaged head, he muttered, “I feel better. In fact, almost normal.”

  “You aren’t, not yet.” Rachel gave him a pleading look. “Just trust me, Chase, will you? I know which way is south.” She opened her hands to him. “Am I not worth trusting? Who got you out of that parachute and to safety? Who found us food?”

  Grudgingly Chase realized Rachel was right, but he couldn’t admit it. “Speaking of food, why don’t you eat those critters. We need to get going. We’re still not very far from where that convoy was strafed.”

  Curling her lip, Rachel nodded. She made her way back to the icy stream. With great reluctance, she picked the first mussel out of the water. To her delight, the flesh was much firmer and far less slimy.

  “They taste a little like chicken,” Chase encouraged. “Just close your eyes, pop it in your mouth and chew it. Think of a big fat roasting hen while you eat. Maybe that will help.”

  Rachel followed his direction. The first one was the toughest, but it went down easily to her surprise. She kept her eyes tightly shut, visualizing that chicken. Soon, all six were gone. Letting out a long breath of air, she glanced sheepishly over at Chase.

  “Okay?” he asked, watching her come back to where he sat.

  “I think so.” Running her fingers through her hair, Rachel realized it needed a combing. “How’s your head?”

  “Better. It’s not aching so much.”

  “Good.” She crawled to the opening and looked out of the cave. “When I was out scouting around, I noticed there aren’t many groves of trees. We’re going to have to stick to the edge of this valley and use the huge rock formations for cover.”

  He nodded. Rachel was practical—another commendable trait. “You’re right. Did you see any patrols?”

  “No.” She chewed on her lips. “I get this awful feeling they’re close, though.”

  He snorted. “Women’s intuition?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s unreliable.”

  Rachel glared at him. “You’re so pigheaded!”

  “Keep your voice down, sound carries.”
>
  That did it! Rachel scrambled to her feet, crouched over in the cave. She glanced around, making sure they were leaving nothing behind. “Come on, it’s time to go. I don’t happen to agree at all with your assessment of my intuition.”

  Without a word, Chase followed her out of the cave. He told himself that Rachel was upset over nothing. Intuition was women’s emotionality at best. He wasn’t about to trust his skin to her feelings, but he said nothing.

  Rachel bristled as Chase placed his arm around her shoulders, leaning on her for support. “One of these days,” she muttered fiercely under her breath, “you’re going to eat your words, Captain. Just because I sense things differently doesn’t mean I’m wrong! Come on, we’ve got some miles to make up for.”

  Chase didn’t have the heart to argue. Let her anger give her the stamina for both of them. The sunlight was bright, peeking between building thunderheads. He winced, squinting. The concussion made his eyes extraordinarily sensitive to light, and he was unable to look around for signs of patrols as Rachel guided them between rock formations.

  The ground was uneven. Around them, Chase saw turrets of rocks, reminding him of castles thrusting upward hundreds of feet tall. They were traversing a narrow valley with sparse vegetation and trees. Everything was yellowed and shriveled from lack of rain. Numerous caves dotted the hillsides, the brush clinging to them indicating water nearby.

  Thirty minutes later, Rachel spotted an enemy patrol. Her breath caught in the back of her throat, and she jerked Chase to the right, pushing him behind one of the turretlike rock formations.

  “Enemy!” she breathed sharply, shoving him between two large rocks until he disappeared into the shadows.

  “Where?” Chase whispered, unable to look over the rocks. He saw Rachel’s face go pale. She was hurriedly gathering brush.

  “About half a mile south of us. They’re coming our way.”

  He gripped her hand as she threw a large branch above his head. “Hold it. What are you doing?”

  Fear was making her shaky. “Hiding you.”

  His grip tightened on her slender wrist. Chase saw the fear in her eyes. “What about you?”

  “I’m going to be a decoy and lead them away from here.”

  His lips drew back from his teeth. “Like hell you are!” Chase exploded softly. “Get in here! There’s enough room. We’ll hide together.”

  Shaking her head, Rachel jerked out of his viselike grip. “No! Now shut up and lie on the ground. Hurry!”

  Real anger wove through Chase. He rolled over onto his belly, hugging the ground. The North Koreans wouldn’t find them. Why was Rachel willing to become a target? Clenching his fists, he closed his eyes as she hurled thickets of brush on top of him. Chase wanted to throttle her. This wasn’t a game. Is that how she saw this exercise? A child’s game of hide-and-seek?

  As he lay there, his breathing harsh, Chase felt the layers of reason rip away to the real truth of his concern. Dammit, he liked Rachel. More than a little bit. She was the most courageous, foolhardy woman he’d ever met. Chase wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Within moments, he could barely see her legs outside the brush enclosure that surrounded him.

  Rachel got down on her knees. “Chase?” she hissed.

  “Yeah?”

  His voice vibrated with anger. Right now, it didn’t matter to Rachel. Her voice came out off-pitch. “Look, I’m going to try and lead them away. It’s our only chance—”

  “Then be careful!” He saw the terror etched on her face, her beautiful lips compressed. Disagreeing with Rachel was fruitless. Time was precious and Chase didn’t want her wasting it arguing. “Stay low, and don’t compromise yourself for me. Understand?”

  “I’ll be careful,” Rachel promised raggedly, jerking a look over her shoulder. “They’re coming, Chase. I’ve got to go. I’ll be back….”

  Chase wanted to hold her and tell her to take it easy, that everything would be all right. But none of that was true. Helplessness overwhelmed him. It was one thing for a man to be lost behind lines. To have a vulnerable, beautiful woman like Rachel putting her life in jeopardy was more than he could handle. He glared up through the branches.

  “Dammit, you’d better come back in one piece! This is crazy. You could be hiding in here with me.”

  A tight smile edged Rachel’s mouth as she rose unsteadily to her feet. “I’ll be back, Captain. I’m not done haunting you yet.”

  She was gone. Chase watched Rachel spin around, leaping like a graceful gazelle between the rock formations, moving to higher ground until she disappeared from his view. The emergency ripped away Chase’s defenses. A powerful emotion shattered through him, one that focused on Rachel and what she meant to him. He barely knew her, and yet he was reacting like a protective husband. Glowering down at the gray and brown earth, Chase laid his head on his hands, hearing the voices of the enemy patrol coming closer. Shutting his eyes, he prayed, something he did only in dire emergencies. But he didn’t pray for himself; he prayed for Rachel’s flight to safety.

  Her breath coming in heaving gulps, Rachel leaped from one small boulder to another, scaling the hill. At the crest, hidden behind a turret, she crouched. Below, Rachel could see the twelve-man patrol, their dark brown uniforms blending with the grays and yellows of the valley.

  To Rachel’s despair, they were headed directly toward Chase. Without thinking, she picked up a rock, hurling it behind the patrol. The rock sailed down the hill, landing about three hundred feet behind them. The patrol was jumpy, whirling around. The rock struck a turret, exploding into hundreds of smaller fragments.

  Standing up, Rachel deliberately exposed herself to the patrol. She heard them shout, gesturing excitedly in her direction. Good! Whirling around, she headed down the reverse side of the hill, running with cadence, watching where she put her feet. One slip and she could hurtle down the rock-strewn slope, spraining an ankle or worse, breaking a leg. Either way, Rachel could be captured—or killed.

  She heard more shouts and knew they were climbing the hill in pursuit of her. So much of her father’s training came back to her. Rachel listened to her instincts, weaving them with the common sense her parents had taught her. The hill was steep, flowing immediately into another rocky slope.

  The sun was high overhead, telling Rachel it was noon. If she could outwit the patrol, find a place to hide and remember where Chase was hidden, she could wait until dusk to find her way back to him. Taking huge breaths through her mouth, Rachel pushed her body to its physical limits. All the time she was intent on evading the enemy, her heart was centered on Chase. The possibility of losing him kept Rachel honest with herself. She liked the guy. A lot. Just let me get back to him. Let me find him safe tonight….

  Chase lay unmoving, cramped and stiff. Dusk was upon him; the patrol had left hours ago. But they could call in trucks loaded with more squads to search the area carefully. He remained where he was. Frustration and fear gnawed at him. Where the hell was Rachel? Was she safe? Had they found her? Two hours earlier, he’d heard rifle shots ripping through the silence of the valley. Sweat dripped from his furrowed brow. Dammit, she had to be safe! Her angel features hovered hotly before his mind’s eye. The contralto warmth of her voice haunted him.

  “Chase!”

  His eyes flew open. Was it the wind picking up or did he hear Rachel’s voice?

  “Chase!”

  “Here,” he said, his voice cracking. It was Rachel! He pushed upward, getting to his hands and knees, moving the entire group of thickets that had hidden him.

  “Thank God,” Rachel whispered, running to the spot. Quickly she tore away the brush, uncovering Chase. In the dusky light, she could see the shadowed harshness of his face as he staggered to his feet. Never had he looked so good. With a little cry, Rachel threw her arms around him, hugging him, holding him.

  “You’re safe,” he growled, his arms closing around Rachel, holding her tightly against him. Chase felt a little cry come from her. He pressed one
hand against her hair, the other against her long, curved back. “God, I was worried sick,” he admitted thickly, lost in the musky scent of her hair, the sweetness that was only Rachel.

  “I’m okay…okay…” she quavered. Her cheek pressed against the dampness of his flight suit, Rachel felt and heard the powerful beat of Chase’s heart. She tightened her arms around him, wildly aware of his strength and the protection that emanated from him like an intense beacon of light. He’d been just as frightened as she had. When his hand slid down her spine to capture her hips against his, a gasp of shock escaped her.

  “No…” Rachel protested, placing her hands flat against his chest, pushing away. Heat stung her cheeks, and she was unable to look at him for several moments afterward, trying to grapple with her unraveling emotions.

  “Sorry,” Chase muttered, opening his hands toward her. “I—well, I was worried. I thought they might have got you and…” His voice failed him. Rachel had felt incredibly alive and warm in his arms. Hunger for her thundered through him. Savagely he reminded himself that they were nearly strangers to each other. Rachel didn’t feel like a stranger, though. She had fitted perfectly against his frame, each of her delicious curves molding to his harder planes.

  Watching her from beneath his lashes, Chase added, “I got carried away. I was just glad to see you. Are you all right?” He saw several small scratches on her left cheek, the blood having dried a long time ago.

  Rachel stepped away from Chase’s overwhelming male presence, rattled by the powerful feelings the contact had created. “I know…I got carried away, too. I’m glad you’re safe.” Everything about him sang through her like a sweet song that her body knew intimately. “And I’m fine,” she added as an afterthought, completely disoriented by what she had done in throwing her arms around Chase.

  Chase appraised her more critically. “What happened? I heard rifle fire about two hours ago.” He kept his voice low, constantly perusing the darkening hills for patrols.

  Rachel sat on a flat rock, needing to rest. Chase looked remarkably well—a hundred percent better than when she’d left him hours earlier. “I threw a rock to distract them,” she told him, watching him crouch nearby. “I played the wounded-mother-bird trick on them and they fell for it.”