Hunter's Woman

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Hunter's Woman Page 14

by McKenna, Lindsay


  Catt stood up, her hands tense on her hips. She looked out at the river and then back at them. “Medically, we’re useless here, except to keep them comfortable and watch them suffer and die. We have no advanced medical facility. We have no IVs and we can’t run fluid drips. We can do nothing except witness the horror of what crazed men do to innocent people.”

  Hearing the hopelessness, the rage in her husky tone, Ty slowly unwound his limbs and stood up. “Maybe…” he began.

  Rafe stood up in turn. “Maybe what?”

  “It’s a long shot,” Ty murmured pensively. Turning his attention to Catt, who had a confused look on her face, he said, “Remember when you started getting that migraine headache on the way out here?”

  “Yes. But what does that have to do with the situation these poor people are in?”

  His mouth twisted a little. “Hear me out, okay?” He knew Catt’s tendency to jump to conclusions sometimes. “Remember what I used to make your headache go away?”

  Catt’s eyes widened. Suddenly, hope thrummed through her. And then disbelief. “You aren’t saying your homeopathy can help in this situation, are you?”

  He held up his hands. “We’ve got to try it, don’t we? I’ve never used it in an outbreak situation before. According to Dr. Donovan-Cunningham, in the mid-1800s in America, when they had outbreaks of cholera, yellow fever and malaria, homeopathy handled the situation just fine. People who had cholera lived instead of dying. I know from historical reading that homeopathy has dealt with life-and-death epidemic situations. For instance, in 1918, when the Spanish flu swept across the world and killed twenty-two million people. Remember that outbreak?”

  Catt nodded. “Every virologist knows about it,” she muttered.

  “Here are the facts,” Ty said. “In the U.S., half a million people died of the Spanish flu. Rachel said it was homeopathy’s shining hour. She showed me some old magazine reports from that time, printed shortly after the flu epidemic. People who were treated with allopathic, or traditional, medicine died eighty percent of the time. People who went to a homeopath, and took a remedy, lived eighty percent of the time.”

  Catt studied him in the tense silence that followed. “You’re sure about this?”

  “As sure as I’m standing here.”

  “Then why didn’t I read about it in our scientific literature? I’m quite well versed in the outbreaks of the last two hundred years, in the U.S. and around the world.”

  “If you had read the homeopathic medical literature of that time, facts and figures from the federal government health department are all there. A lot of people survived that epidemic because they took a homeopathic remedy.”

  Rubbing her lips with her fingers, Catt studied Ty. The enthusiasm in his voice was reaching out to her. She saw the burning belief in his eyes that this alternative medicine could help.

  “I wish I had those medical reports….”

  “I can supply you with the names and everything, and even get you copies of them once we get home,” Ty said fervently. “Right now, Catt, don’t you think we should try and save who we can with homeopathic medicine?”

  Helplessly, she said, “How do we use it? You’re the only one who knows anything about it.”

  “I can do what I did with you and your headache. Remember how I took all your symptoms, checked them in my book, called a repertory, and found the remedy that cured you? I can do the same here. I can take the symptoms of five people and come up with a remedy. You can test it out on those five, okay? Decide for yourself whether this will work or not. I know for a fact that homeopathy was used in Europe in the 1900s on anthrax cases and cured it. It wasn’t the genetically altered variety, but it still might help.”

  Rafe cleared his throat. “That’s a good plan, Ty, but we also need to be on the lookout for Black Dawn. We don’t dare devote all our attention to the epidemic and forget that we’ve got terrorists lurking around somewhere. Somehow, they must be monitoring this situation, too.”

  Catt nodded. “You’re right.”

  Ty said, “Let’s get to the village. I’ll take those five cases. It won’t take long. Rafe, you play guard dog in the meantime. Catt, can you get your team up to speed while I do this? I’ll give the five people the remedy indicated and then you and your team can monitor them through the day. How does that sound?”

  What choice did she have? Catt knew that the medicine she’d been using so far was useless. Homeopathy had cured her of a migraine that would have normally laid her out flat for three days, with no relief. She saw the burning excitement in Ty’s eyes. She felt fear at the cold-blooded terrorist attack on the Juma. Rage mingled with hope and other feelings she was afraid to admit to as she held Ty’s gaze.

  “All right,” she whispered, “it’s the only plan around. We’ll focus on the people who are dying. We need to do anything and everything we can for them.” Turning her head, she saw a few of her colleagues onshore. “I’ll inform my team. Ty, once I’m done, I’m coming into the village to watch you operate. If this works, I need to understand as much as possible what you’re doing.”

  Nodding, he said, “Sure.” More than anything, Ty wanted time alone with Catt. They needed to talk. But in the next few hours, anyway, that would be impossible. Rafe looked worried, and Ty knew the woodsman was tense about Black Dawn lurking somewhere nearby, waiting and watching.

  For just an instant, before Catt left the houseboat, Ty saw her eyes soften. But only for a split second. What did that softening mean? Did it involve him? Did it have to do with what they’d shared last night?

  Catt sat on a log near a fire in the village. Nearby, a Juma woman who had never caught the anthrax was making stew in a black pot hung over the smoldering coals of the fire. It was early afternoon, and the heat and humidity were bearing down on the jungle as they always did at this time of day. Wiping her brow with the back of her arm, Catt removed her protective gloves and dropped them into an awaiting plastic biohazard sack. All these specially made sacks would be burned tonight to kill whatever spores the medical team had picked up in their examination and care of the victims.

  Unscrewing the cap on her bottled water, Catt drank deeply. The water was lukewarm and highly chlorinated, but she didn’t care. It still tasted good. Recapping the bottle, she saw Ty emerge from one of the huts nearby. Her heart picked up in beat. She felt fear. She felt desire. Most of all, unsure of herself and him, she felt confusion. Her body responded powerfully to him as he spotted her, changed direction and walked toward her. His face was grim looking. No wonder. Last night, ten more people had died. They’d all been given high doses of life-saving antibiotics, but it had been a useless gesture. At least now they knew why.

  “Mind if I sit with you?” Ty asked, motioning to the large log she was sitting on.

  Catt shook her head. “No…come and rest. You’ve been at it full bore since six this morning.” He looked exhausted. But then, they hadn’t slept half the night. Just looking at his wonderfully shaped mouth and recalling it moving hotly upon her own hungry lips made Catt go shaky with desire again.

  Grateful that she didn’t tell him to go to hell or get lost, Ty sat down, leaving a good foot of space between them. He took off his protective gloves and dropped them into the specially marked sack. “I just repertorized the last person and gave him the remedy,” he told her. Catt passed him the bottle of water and he took it. “Thanks.”

  A tremor of joy raced through her at the intimate look he gave her as she handed him the water. She relished the feeling of his fingers touching hers. This time the contact gave her hope. For a second, it put out the fires of fear and distrust toward him. But only temporarily. As he tipped his head back, his throat gleaming with sweat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the water, Catt could not tear her gaze from him. Her heart was devouring him, while her leery mind screamed at her to run.

  The woman at the kettle smiled at them and then rose and slowly walked away. Catt took advantage of the fact to spea
k. Her voice was strained and low when she said, “We have to talk, Ty—about last night—about what happened.”

  Gravely, he lowered his head and capped the water bottle. Handing it back to her, he said, “Yeah, we need to talk, but there hasn’t been much time to do that.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted. Where to begin? What to say? Catt had rehearsed a hundred times throughout the day, and each time, it hadn’t sounded right to her. “No, there hasn’t….”

  Hunter placed his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped between them. “What do you want to say to me?”

  Just the gentleness in his low tone reassured Catt enough to speak. “I’m in a quandary, Ty. I’m not sorry for what happened last night, but I’m scared. I didn’t plan on anything happening. I…just…well, I never thought…”

  He smiled at her. “It surprised me, too, but I’m not sorry it happened, darlin’.”

  The endearment touched her and she absorbed the tenderness in his expression. Opening her hands nervously, Catt rasped, “Look, I think it happened because I was so grief-stricken over Mandei’s death…the loss of her baby. It hit too close to home for me, brought up a lot of unresolved grief I’ve had about the loss of my own child….”

  Ty reached out and captured her hand. “I understand that.”

  Catt saw that he did. The strength of his fingers around hers sent a wave of stability through her. He released her and she breathed a sigh of relief. “What happened was just a fluke. I know I initiated everything. I take responsibility for that.” She lowered her gaze and couldn’t look at him. “And you let me come to you…. You held me, let me cry and let me grieve….”

  His mouth twisted, then tightened into a slash. “A decade too late, wasn’t I?”

  Catt winced as she heard the anger toward himself for his actions. Forcing herself to look at him, she saw the naked guilt and grief etched clearly in Ty’s face. More than anything, she saw the suffering line of his mouth. The tension lengthened. Finally, she whispered unsteadily, “Look, I’m confused about a lot of things right now. I can’t sort out anything. I’m a mass of emotions. I’m worried sick over the Juma. I’m afraid of the bioterrorism, of the possibility of another attack. This isn’t a good time to try and sort through issues regarding you and me, Ty. Frankly, what I needed last night was to feel alive after Mandei’s death. What’s more appropriate than making love to someone in order to feel alive?”

  Ty was very careful not to reveal his reaction to Catt. She wasn’t ready to hear how he felt toward her. Indeed, he sensed that if he told her he wanted a second chance with her, she’d run and he’d never see her again. His gaze moved down to her rounded abdomen. Had it crossed her mind yet that they’d had unprotected sex? Where was she in her cycle? Could she become pregnant? These were things that he wanted to talk to her about, but now was not the time.

  “What you’re saying is logical,” he agreed gently. “The last thing I want to do, Catt, is make you feel pressured. I’m willing to let what happened last night stand on its own merits. I’m not going to read anything into it. I’ll respect how you feel about things.” Liar, he thought to himself.

  He saw relief come to her eyes instantly. Sitting up, Catt released a tremulous breath of air. “Good…because I don’t want you to think that—”

  “You initiated everything last night, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s the way it will be between us, Catt. I won’t make a move toward you unless you want me to. Fair enough?” Ty saw even more relief in Catt’s expression. They had to sleep a few feet away from one another in that houseboat every night. She was afraid he’d take advantage of her, of the situation. That hurt him, but he didn’t say anything. They needed time. And she didn’t need that kind of unspoken pressure placed upon her right now.

  “I’m so glad you understand,” Catt said. She felt her fear dissolving. Just the look on Ty’s face told her he was a man of his word. He always had been before.

  Looking around, he said in a grim voice, “We’ve got enough to worry about without our personal problems or needs getting in the way.”

  “I’m glad you see that,” Catt said. How badly she wanted to throw her arms around Ty’s neck and simply embrace him and thank him. Memories of his molten, capturing mouth upon hers made her go hot and shaky inside once more. He wouldn’t touch her. He would not pursue her. If she wanted more, wanted him, she would have to initiate it. Never had Catt felt more in control than now. She felt badly, because she recalled Ty’s spontaneity with her in the past. She understood what it was costing him because she sensed as well as saw that he wanted her again and again. For him, the past was over. It didn’t matter. He was more than willing to have some sort of relationship with her. That was obvious. But she wasn’t ready. And probably would never be. Catt just couldn’t let go of the past. Of her loss.

  “Well,” Ty murmured as he slid his hands over his large, hard thighs, “in the next forty-eight hours, we’ll know if this homeopathy is going to help or not.”

  Catt nodded. “I hope it does,” she said fervently.

  Rafe met them on the trail that evening as they trudged wearily out of the village. Darkness was falling, the grayish light such that Catt could barely see the path ahead of her. Ty was walking behind her, and she was grateful to him for giving her the space she’d requested earlier in the day. Not once had he reached out to touch her. No, he’d kept things friendly. Her heart missed the intimacy, but her head did not.

  As Rafe approached, a dark shadow out of the night, the clean features of his handsome face marked by the deepening dusk, Catt saw worry written in his eyes and mouth.

  “Hi, Rafe. What’s up?” she said in greeting as she came to a halt.

  Ty stopped at her shoulder. He saw the warning look Rafe gave him. “Black Dawn?”

  Halting, Rafe said, “No. The Valentino brothers. That could be worse than Black Dawn.”

  Frowning, Catt said, “Sounds like a movie duo. Who are they?”

  “Local cocaine dealers. They’re part of a huge South American drug cartel.” He gestured to the north of them. “They’ve got manufacturing sites all over in the Amazon and they make cocaine and other drugs at these places. They enslave local Indians, force them to work in the buildings, and if they don’t do it, they put a bullet in their heads, rape their women and girls, usually destroy their villages. Believe me, they are dangerous.”

  “And they’re around?” Ty demanded.

  “I just got off the radio,” Rafe said. He shrugged. “My radio is an on-again, off-again proposition. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Down here, the humidity and moisture just eats up the wiring. Anyway, I was talking with the local constable in Manaus and he said that a number of cigarette-class boats were seen on the Amazon downriver from us by about ten miles. Those boats are fast and powered by some of the biggest engines around. They can go sixty miles an hour real easy. The Valentino brothers use these boats to carry their coke up and down the river. Manaus is their major airport facility. From there, it’s flown around the world to drug dealers who buy it from them.”

  Catt sighed. “Like we don’t have enough problems right now. What does this mean, Rafe? Are we in danger?”

  “It means we stay on guard. I don’t know if the Valentino brothers are involved with Black Dawn or not. Usually, I don’t see them on the river because I’m in one of the hundreds of side channels, checking in on tribes under my jurisdiction. I’ve run into the Valentinos a couple of times and equal firepower is the only thing standing between them and me. They’re the most powerful drug lords in this area. Inca has been after them for years. I wish she was here now. We really need her and her abilities.”

  Catt looked up at Ty, who had stepped closer to her. She saw the serious set of his mouth and the flash of concern in his eyes. She felt protection emanating from him toward her. The feeling was delicious. “Is it unusual for them to be operating in this area?”

  “Ye
s,” Rafe said. “I’ve tried for years to map out all their manufacturing sites. Inca has done most of the ferreting out. Between us, we’ve put together a pretty comprehensive picture. I’m just about ready to send it to the Brazilian government. Once they get it, the government can send in troops to destroy these sites and set the Indians free. But it’s going to take a massive undertaking. Inca and I can’t do it by ourselves. It will take a lot of money and a lot of government help to pull it off. I’ve run into the Valentino brothers and their drug soldiers too many times, and they’re cold-blooded killers. The fact that they’re nearby doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t know of a manufacturing site around us.”

  “Is it possible they’re carrying a load of cocaine to Manaus?” Ty asked.

  Running his fingers through his short black hair, Rafe muttered, “Maybe. But I think we need to move the lab site, the tents and even the houseboat out of sight. We don’t need to expose ourselves unnecessarily to drug runners on their speedboats. They’re well-known for throwing grenades at local Indians who fish the Amazon. They use them as targets and shoot at them with their weapons. We don’t want to become their latest target practice. No, we need to move now.”

  Sighing, Catt shook her head. “This is a nightmare. It just keeps getting worse.”

  “Well,” Rafe said, “you and your team will probably be staying here at least another three or four weeks, so I need to ensure your safety as much as possible.”

  Reaching out, Catt gripped Rafe’s long, lean hand. “I know, and I’m very grateful for your being here, believe me. We’ll move, Rafe. Don’t worry. I don’t want to be a sitting duck, either.”

  Ty nodded. Grimly, he followed them back toward the houseboat, his mind going back to the suffering people in the village. It would take a week to know for certain if the homeopathic remedies would help. In the next forty-eight hours, they’d get their first indicator. If it worked—and he knew it would—then the next week was going to be a very busy, but productive one. His biggest worry was for Catt and her team.

 

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