Dawn of Valor

by Lindsay McKenna

  Chase extricated himself from the table he’d nearly tipped over earlier. “Sounds good,” he rasped. He tucked the package beneath his arm, following Rachel out of the tent.

  She glanced at the package. “What’s that?”

  Chase grinned. “This? Oh, a little gift for you.”

  Rachel’s heart sank. Men always brought gifts to buy favors from a woman. Was this Chase’s new tactic? Try to get a kiss by giving her a gift? “Really? What is it?” she asked suspiciously.

  Gloating at the show of interest, Chase said, “You’ll have to wait until we get to your tent to find out.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  I want to give you the world. Chase swallowed the words. Instead, he whispered, “I wanted to see your smile again. I thought maybe a gift would do it.”

  She heard the ring of truth in his words, and her heart expanded with renewed feelings for Chase. Go slowly, she warned herself. In a little while, she would know whether the gift was intended as barter.

  The cold air snapped Chase awake, and he monitored his stride, walking at Rachel’s shoulder. They wove through the large city of tents, working their way toward the southern end of the compound.

  “Here we are,” Rachel announced, opening the door to a small tent. Chase had to stoop in order to enter. She smiled. He was a giant of a man, there was no doubt.

  Chase looked around, impressed. “This is almost like home.” Two cots and two makeshift lockers for clothes joined a table. The plywood floor had rice matting on it, giving it a warmer feel than typically sterile barracks. He spotted some photos on Rachel’s locker and went over to look at them.

  “My mom and dad,” she explained. “They live in Bangor, Maine.”

  Chase studied them for a long time. Then he turned and smiled gently over at her. “Looks like you’re a pretty happy family.”

  “We are.”

  They were alone, and Rachel wasn’t behaving as if he were going to attack her. Yes, trust was building between them, and for that, Chase was eternally grateful. He looked for the puppy. “Is Fred on his rounds?”

  She nodded. “Usually, at this time of day he’s over at the enlisted chow hall. Fred has made friends with the chief cook, Jerry Lister.”

  “The dog’s no fool, is he?” Chase chuckled.

  “No, but at night Fred comes back to our tent and sleeps between our cots.”

  “Lucky mutt,” Chase said, noting color rising in Rachel’s cheeks. He’d give his arm and leg to share a cot with her. Judging from her reaction, she read those very thoughts in his eyes. Wrestling to keep his promise, he placed the parcel in Rachel’s hands. “Here, go ahead and open it.”

  “Thank you, Chase,” she whispered, carefully feeling the package.

  “Mind if I sit down while you open it?” he asked, heading for the cot. The air was chilly, although a wood-burning stove sat in the center of the tent.

  “Go ahead. I’d offer you a chair, but we don’t have any. That’s Annie’s bed. She’s my roommate.” Rachel barely contained her curiosity about the package. She sat on her cot, eagerly working out the first of many knots on the heavily wrapped package.

  “Is she on duty now?” Chase asked, sitting down. The cot was large and even had a mattress beneath the green army wool blankets. He groaned with pleasure at the unexpected luxury.

  “Yes, she won’t be getting off until 1700.” Rachel noted the weariness in Chase’s features. Her fingers shook as she freed one knot after another. Why was it wrapped so well?

  “That’s good timing. I have to be back at the base by 1700 to fly a night mission.” Chase patted the cot. “You gals have it made. What I’d give to have a cot like this in my tent.”

  “Become a nurse,” Rachel teased. What was in the parcel? It felt like clothing. The urge to rip the brown paper was paramount, but Rachel didn’t want Chase to think she was more kid than lady, so she diligently unknotted each string.

  Satisfaction thrummed through Chase. “You’re sure taking your own sweet time opening that. Mind if I stretch out on Annie’s cot while you’re working at it?”

  Tugging at the stubborn array of strings, Rachel murmured. “Go right ahead. Annie won’t mind.”

  Chase lay down, his hands behind his head. “This is wonderful,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

  “I’ve never seen a package so well wrapped,” Rachel muttered. Glancing up, she saw a rugged smile on Chase’s mouth. She resumed her efforts to open the package.

  “I hope you like the present,” he said, his voice slurring. “It’s wrapped like that because it came all the way from Japan….”

  Rachel stopped her unwrapping activities, glancing up again. Her features softened as she watched Chase fall asleep. Within seconds, he was snoring fitfully. Putting the unopened parcel aside, Rachel quietly got up and took some blankets from the end of her cot, placing them over Chase. She pushed several strands of hair off his furrowed brow. His flesh was tense, and she gently massaged his forehead until the lines eased and disappeared.

  Fear trickled into Rachel’s heart as she stood by the cot, watching Chase sleep. No wonder the pilots were getting shot out of the sky, flying so many missions without proper rest. It would be humanly impossible to remain alert under those circumstances. The urge to lean down and kiss him was almost too much for Rachel to ignore. Fighting her feelings, she turned and went back to her cot. As much as she wanted to open the package, she decided to wait. She wanted to share the experience with Chase. Walking over to her locker, she quietly opened it. There were a number of letters she’d been remiss about writing, and this would be a good time to catch up. An incredible sense of contentment washed over her. Rachel savored the new feeling, hesitantly admitting that just being with Chase was enough.

  Sitting cross-legged on her cot after taking off her heavy combat boots, Rachel began to write. Occasionally she would look up, absorbing Chase’s sleeping form into her heart. His snore was erratic, and she smiled, wondering if he snored all the time or if it was combat fatigue causing it. A warm memory of her mother chiding her father because he snored like a runaway freight train from time to time, entered Rachel’s thoughts.

  Home. The word struck her hard. Rachel missed her home and family. Thanksgiving was coming soon. This year, she would miss the pungent autumn in Maine and the early first snows. More than anything, Rachel realized, she would love Chase to share her world of beauty in those timeless woods where color and scent were a heady experience. What were his parents like? His brothers? He was so proud of the family military history and the fact that all the men had served with such great honors. She wanted to know much more about him.

  If Rachel was honest with herself as she sat there with pen and paper in her lap, she longed to be in Chase’s arms more than anything else. Torrid memories of his lovemaking were indelibly branded into her heart. Her hand trembled slightly as she started another letter, remembering his strength, his maleness. Rachel looked at her watch. She would wake him an hour before he had to return to Taegu. At least she was sharing this time with him, the experience oddly satisfying to her.

  “Chase?” Rachel squeezed his shoulder again. “Chase? It’s time to get up.” She was careful not to shake him, having discovered long ago that men who had been in combat would often jerk awake, hands flailing, fists doubled—coming out of sleep fighting. More than once, Rachel had dodged a patient’s fist by simply squeezing his arm.

  Groaning, Chase felt Rachel’s hand on his shoulder. His spiky lashes moved and he forced his eyes open to bare slits, studying her through them.

  “Uh, what time is it?” He saw the concern in her features.

  Straightening up, Rachel said in a quiet voice, “Four. That gives you an hour to get back to Taegu.” Chase looked like a lost little boy, blinking his bloodshot eyes, disoriented. She held out her hand.

  “Grab my hand, I’ll help you sit up. I made some fresh coffee and I’ll get you a cup.”

  Her hand
was slender and small. Chase gripped it, feeling her chapped flesh as he sat upright. Releasing her, he rubbed his face wearily.

  “Damn, I didn’t mean to conk out,” he muttered. “So much for my attempt to talk with you.”

  Rachel poured the coffee and set the percolator back down on the heating element. “You needed sleep more than anything else, Chase.” She brought the aluminum cup over to him.

  “Thanks,” he whispered, taking the mug. It was hard to think, so he concentrated on sipping the scaldingly hot coffee. Chase heard Rachel sit down on the other cot. He noticed a number of letters, paper and pen strewn around her.

  “Letters,” Rachel explained in a gesture with her hand. “I’m behind on sending them.”

  With a grimace, Chase held the warm cup between his hands, looking haggard. “My mom and dad are probably having fits. I haven’t written in a month.”

  “If your dad is in the military, I’m sure he realizes why you aren’t writing.”

  Giving Rachel a long look, Chase felt warmth moving through his chest. “Dad retired at the end of the last war with thirty years of service. You’ve got a lot of insight about people.”

  “Second nature for a nurse.”

  Chase studied her. Rachel was relaxed, legs crossed, her black hair framing her flushed cheeks. The exhaustion he felt was torn away by a pulsing need to take her into his arms and kiss her. Chase lowered his lashes, paying attention to the mug of coffee, instead. More than anything, he didn’t want Rachel to see what he was thinking.

  “Look,” Rachel said, patting the package at the end of her cot, “I didn’t open it. It killed me to wait, but I wanted you to be awake.”

  Chase lifted his chin and managed a grin. “What do you know, a woman who can wait to open a gift.”

  Laughing softly, Rachel settled the package in her lap, carefully easing open the taped wrapping. “I suppose all women rip into a gift as soon as they get it, completely out of control. Caught again, wasn’t I?”

  Chase laughed with her. “I expected you to tear it open,” he agreed.

  Rachel held his smiling eyes, remembering how they changed and became intent when he kissed her. “Believe me, I wanted to,” she admitted fervently.

  Chase watched her pull back the crisp, crinkly paper. Her expression changed, her lips parted and a gasp escaped. He sat up, watching as she pulled the blue silk robe from the paper, holding it up.

  “Oh…Chase…this is beautiful! Beautiful!” Rachel got off the bed, holding the turquoise-blue silk up to herself. The robe was exquisitely embroidered with colorful flowers. She held it against her. “It feels so sleek….”

  Swallowing hard, watching Rachel move her hand in a graceful motion across the robe, he said in a strained tone, “Chuck Dancey, one of the pilots in my squadron, flew over to Japan for a week. I asked him to pick you up something sexy…er…in blue.”

  Rachel blushed, running her hand in a caressing motion across the silky material, marveling at its beauty and workmanship. “Chase, this is too expensive—” Was there another, even heavier price tag attached to it? More than anything in the world, Rachel prayed that Chase had given her the gift for the right reasons.

  “You’re worth it, Angel Eyes.” His voice vibrated with feeling, and he saw her look up, her eyes a soft green that made him go hard with longing.

  Helplessly Rachel sat down, unwilling to refold the robe. “It looks like it will fit,” she whispered.

  “Try it on,” Chase encouraged. “Go on.”

  The buttons were silk knots, and she carefully eased each one free from its loop. “This is real silk,” she whispered, looking at the label. “Chase, really this is too expensive to give as a gift—”

  “No strings attached, Rachel, if that’s got you worried.”

  Realizing she’d hurt Chase’s feelings, she said, “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that—well, I’ve never been given such a lovely gift in all my life.” Rachel inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Oh.” Satisfaction wreathed Chase’s smile. Rachel slipped the robe across her shoulders, and in his mind, he was taking it off her, making slow, delicious love with her in the process.

  Pirouetting around, Rachel laughed. “Well, I don’t have a mirror. You’ll have to tell me if I look all right. Does it fit?”

  Heat pounded through his bloodstream as she made a graceful turn, her arms extended like a ballerina. “The robe,” Chase choked out, “fits perfectly….”

  Anticipation sang through Chase as she clasped her hands in delight. Then, unexpectedly, he got up and walked over, framed her face between his hands and placed his mouth against her lips. Her warmth and sweetness unknotted the terrible cold that always inhabited him since coming to Korea. The kiss was deep, quick and hot. He felt Rachel’s hands push against his chest, and her muffled response.

  “No!” Rachel jerked out of his embrace, her fingers against her wet, throbbing lips. “Damn you, Chase Trayhern! You did expect payment for this gift! Damn you!” she sobbed.

  Stunned, Chase stood there. His hands dropped to his sides and he looked at her morosely. “What? I—can’t help myself when it comes to you, Rachel. And I didn’t bring you a gift to steal a kiss.” How could he explain to her what had made him suddenly get to his feet and kiss her? “It was your smile, the happiness in your eyes that made me do it,” he whispered. “God, can’t you understand any of this, Rachel?” Was love so hard to understand? If he told her he loved her, she would throw it back in his face as a line he was using on her. Damn, it was so frustrating. He saw her eyes fill with anguish.

  Fighting back real tears, Rachel pulled off the silk robe. “Here, take it. Give it to the next woman you want, Chase.”

  “Rachel!”

  “Don’t say a word, Chase! I’ve had it! You talk a good line, but when it comes right down to it, you don’t respect me or my wishes.”

  Groaning, he bowed his head. “That’s not true, Rachel.”

  Her heart was breaking, and the tears were going to fall any second. Rachel didn’t want him to see her cry. “Please, just leave. You’ve got to get back to your unit.” A lump formed in her throat, and the rest of the words were torn from her. “Don’t come back anymore.”

  The effect of her words was shattering. Chase looked up into her flushed features, her eyes still velvet with what he was sure was love for him. It occurred to him that maybe Rachel didn’t know she loved him. Or did she? He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, except that he’d hurt and disappointed her—àin.

  Reluctantly he looked at his watch. With a sigh, he walked over to the cot, set the robe on it then shrugged into his heavy winter coat. The terrible feeling that he’d severed all his hopes crushed him. Unable to look at Rachel, he shuffled to the door. His hand on the knob, he barely turned his head.

  “The robe’s for you, Rachel. I want you to keep it. And don’t worry, I won’t be back.” His voice became strangulated. “I’m sorry I blew it. We had a lot going for us…I just kept getting sidetracked by your beauty, your heart….”

  Tears squeezed from beneath Rachel’s lashes as she heard the door shut quietly, leaving her standing in the silence. The first sob racked her, and she pressed her hand against her mouth. Moving to her cot where the robe lay, she picked it up, moving it out of the way and lying down.

  Why was she crying so hard? Why was it making her heart ache like this? Rachel wanted Chase in so many different ways but couldn’t get it through to him. And she cried even more, realizing that whatever might have been, would never be. She had stood firm, not buckling to Chase’s provocative touch and kisses. There was hurt even in victory, Rachel thought. They had both lost. And she would never see him again. How could she stand living every day, knowing that?

  Chapter Ten

  “Merry Christmas,” Annie sang out to Rachel as she entered the surgery theater. She headed to an operating table where the latest casualty had been placed, prepping him for the doctors’ arrival.

 
Rachel nodded, concentrating on organizing the instruments the doctors would need. It was Christmas, and snow was falling outside the surgery tent. She raised her arm, blotting her forehead where sweat ran into her eyes. Twelve hours had blurred her concentration. Dr. Doug Thornton looked up at her worriedly, his gloved hand open, waiting for the needle and thread.

  Apologizing, Rachel handed him the items. She shut her eyes. In the past three days, there had been no rest for anyone. The North Koreans were making a major push toward Taegu, trying to capture the main U.N. air base. Chase. Rachel’s heart plummeted again. Every time she replayed their last conversation, fear vomited through her. How long since they had last seen each other? Six weeks. Six of the longest, worst weeks of Rachel’s life. The pain in her heart wouldn’t heal, wouldn’t stop aching.

  “Take a breather, Rachel,” Dr. Thornton ordered. “I’ll finish up. Go on now.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, moving toward the scrubbing area just outside the theater. Pushing through the swinging doors, Rachel pulled the mask down off her nose and mouth. Every table was filled, teams of doctors and nurses working frantically over patients. Rachel heard more helicopters arriving in the snowstorm. She knew it was nearly impossible for the aircraft to fly in such weather, and the pilots were taking great personal risk in order to bring the wounded back from the front so the men wouldn’t freeze to death out on the icy reaches of the battlefield.

  Rachel stripped off her gloves and washed her hands. Annie came in a minute later, looking just as tired as Rachel felt.

  “Whew!” Annie muttered, “This is getting to be serious business. Glad that last case was nothing more than a patch job. I get ten minutes to rest.” She pulled off her gloves, tossing them into a wastebasket.