Laura’s face became a mask of pain. Callie tried to support her right leg as she moved from the slab to the floor.
“Nine minutes. Callie?”
“We’re coming!” she shouted back. “Laura’s free! Get ready for her to come out!”
Laura was shaky and weak so Callie helped her maneuver, urging her into the tunnel.
“Okay, okay,” Callie whispered, her hands on the other woman’s hips as she half guided, half pushed her into the tunnel. “Just take your time, Laura. It’s okay. You’re going to make it…. Just be careful….” She flashed the light so Laura could see the climb ahead of her. Could she make it with that broken ankle? Callie wasn’t sure. The vertical ascent was steep. Did Laura have the upper body strength to pull herself up? Gasping raggedly, Callie followed her out, one painful inch at a time.
Sobbing for breath, Laura gripped the jagged edges of concrete and tried to hoist herself upward. She could only use her left leg to push with, as her right one was useless. Pain was keeping her mind clear.
She felt Callie on her heels. They had to escape! Her children needed a mother. She needed Morgan! Love for her family kindled a resolve so deep and strong within her that it gave her the strength she needed to haul herself up into the other part of the tunnel, where the rescue team waited to assist her.
Callie crawled quickly behind Laura once she’d passed the vertical shaft. She heard a growling roar.
Aftershock!
A cry tore from Callie’s lips as she felt the entire tunnel quiver sickeningly and groan. The shivering, rhythmic movements slammed her from side to side in the tunnel. At the same instant, she heard the cries of joy as Laura and Morgan were reunited. Callie continued to squirm forward on her belly as the earth shook around her. She didn’t care how badly she was cut; she didn’t want to be stuck by a cave-in after this latest tremor.
As if the hounds of hell were at her heels, Callie shot forward. Using her feet, she launched herself the last few yards and thrust upward. Hard. Throwing out her arms, her hands extended, Callie grunted as she hurtled forward like a cannonball being shot from the tunnel’s mouth.
Relief shattered through Wes as he saw Callie come barreling out of the darkness. “Hurry!” he pleaded, his voice cracking. The thunder of the aftershock roared around them, swallowing them up with its wild, savage growl. He felt the shivering and bucking of the rubble beneath his feet as he stood hunched over in the confined space, waiting to grab Callie. Morgan had hauled his wife into his arms, and two marines were helping them climb off the hotel ruins to the ground below.
Seconds later, Callie plummeted into Wes’s arms, warm, alive and small against his bulk. The earth shook hard. One moment they were standing, the next, Wes was falling backward with Callie in his arms. Above all, he wanted to protect her. He heard her cry out in alarm as the aftershock, which was a lot bigger than they’d anticipated, struck them with full force.
A second later Wes had hit the hard, unforgiving wall of concrete. His arms were strong and tight around Callie, whose head was buried against his neck and jaw. He lay there breathing hard.
“It’s okay…okay,” he rasped near her ear. “We’re okay. Thank God you’re safe…safe….” The terror of almost losing her tore through him, reminding him of his past pain. He could have lost Callie just as he’d lost Allison! The terror he felt, like ashes of the past, tasted acrid in his mouth. He was so scared! But for the moment, all he could do was hold Callie.
Callie was stunned by the aftershock. She had heard the tunnel crunching and exploding behind her as she’d lunged out of it. Thick clouds of dust filtered down around them as she and Wes hit the floor of the rescue area. She felt his arms, strong and caring, wrap around her body like steel bands.
She remembered how he had grunted out in pain when they’d hit the ground. Alarmed that he might be hurt, Callie struggled to free herself from his arms. But their bodies were melded against one another, the shifting rubble pressing them tightly together. Gasping for air, Callie heard the growl begin to recede as the aftershock rolled on by. Coughing violently from the thick dust raised by the tremor, she felt Wes sit up dragging her with him. Small against his bulk, Callie relaxed and let him do so.
Wordlessly, Wes released her and framed her dirty face with his hands. “Callie?” His voice was ragged with fear. With longing. Where did desire begin and end, or weave into a greater feeling?
To hell with it.
Wes knew they were alone. No one could see them down in this crevasse, out of the gray wash of the floodlights. Right now, his men were focused on getting Laura Trayhern over to the medical tent, to give her the best attention they could under the circumstances. Wes and Callie were alone. Finally. And that’s just the way he wanted it.
Looking down into Callie’s eyes, he saw the fear, the terror and hope burning in them as she clung to his gaze. Holding her face with his shaky hands, he whispered harshly, “You almost died in there, Callie….” And he leaned down…to kiss her.
Callie was stunned as his strong, warm mouth met and moved against her parted lips. She’d seen the need in Wes’s narrowed eyes, the desire in them—for her. The fact that she had nearly died moments ago and now was in the arms of a man who wanted her made her emotions seesaw violently. Life was what mattered. In that moment, Callie capitulated and told her screaming mind to shut up. For whatever reason, even if she was plain, Wes found her desirable. She knew his kiss was fueled by desire, not by love. He’d lost the woman he loved because of her risky occupation. Callie knew he was rattled because of that. Yet, as his mouth glided firmly against hers, she drank his moist breath deep into her lungs. His hands were cherishing as he tilted her face so that he could drink even more deeply of her.
Callie had been kissed infrequently in her life, and never like this. She felt such strength in Wes, such love as his mouth hotly claimed hers. Her breath was stolen, her heart pounded wildly in her breast and her hands opened and closed spasmodically against his broad, powerful shoulders. She felt so loved, so nurtured and protected. As she surrendered to Wes in every way, her breasts pressed against his broad chest, her mouth clinging wetly to his, the disaster and terror dissolved around Callie. So this was what it was like to be desired—really desired. She was lost in the exploding brightness, light and heat of his commanding mouth as it took hers without apology. Yet his kiss was tender and searching, too, and invited her to respond and share with him the glory of that private moment together. Callie did, unashamedly, wanting to claim the life she felt in his arms over the death she’d just narrowly escaped.
The seconds melted between them. When Wes tore his mouth from hers, Callie’s eyes opened slumberously, and he saw desire in them—for him. His entire body exploded with raw need. As he caressed her warm, pink cheeks and threaded his fingers tenderly through her dirty, uncombed hair, he whispered unsteadily, “You’re so brave, Callie…an angel. I swear, you’re an angel….”
His words fed her lonely soul as nothing ever had. She hung on his every word, part of her utterly disbelieving and part of her suspended in a heaven she had thought she’d know. Wes was so handsome! He was successful. He had everything.
Callie tried to shut off that insidious voice inside that always sliced into her negatively. The narrowed, heated look in his green eyes shook her deeply. His hands, brushing smudges of dirt from her cheeks and jaw, then riffling gently through her hair to tame it into place, brought tears to her eyes.
“I—I never realized…” Callie began lamely, her voice cracking.
Wes studied her, his gaze falling to her parted, well-kissed lips. “What? What didn’t you realize?” He caressed her hair again and settled his hands on her small shoulders. Shoulders that had just rescued another woman from sure death. He searched her eyes. “What, Callie? Tell me what’s in your heart. I can see it in your eyes. Talk to me….”
Tears welled up then. Callie was going to cry, and she knew it wasn’t right for a Marine Corps officer to do that. Bu
t the continuing caress of Wes’s hands against her face, neck and shoulder was stripping her of all her armor. With each touch, her heart opened more.
“Y-you’re so gentle…so kind….” She shut her eyes tightly, the tears drifting from beneath her sandy-colored lashes and making thin, clean trails down her cheeks.
“My beautiful angel,” Wes whispered, and he brought Callie fully against him once more. When she nestled her face against his neck and jaw, he sighed raggedly. Lips near her ear, he rasped softly, “I’ve never met anyone like you in my life, Callie. You’re so different. So wonderful. Every time I look at you, my heart explodes. And I get scared. Scared all over again.” He laughed a little nervously and ran his hand across her back. The T-shirt she wore was damp with sweat, and he became concerned that she might become chilled. “I feel like someone cold-cocked me with a sledgehammer. The first time I saw you, my world stopped. There you were—those big, blue eyes of yours, and that soft mouth.” He sighed and pressed a kiss into her tangled, damp hair. “Here we are, in the midst of just about the worst disaster the U.S. has ever had…and the fact that we’ve met under these circumstances…It’s crazy. It’s scary.” Wes wanted to tell her more, because he knew they were all living on borrowed time. Suddenly he realized that he wanted to live every minute as if it was his last. But he couldn’t. That would mean giving his heart to her, and he simply couldn’t do that. Fear warred with desire within him.
Callie lay against him, her heart beating wildly in her breast. His words were like balm to so many old wounds that had never healed within her. Wes thought her beautiful! That was so foreign to her, and yet Callie had heard the simple sincerity, the emotion in his voice when he’d told her how he felt about her. Moving her hand shyly from his chest and up his arm, she lifted her head and drowned in the green fire of his gaze.
“I don’t know what’s happening, Wes.” Her voice was unsteady. “And I’m scared, too.” He desired her, yet he didn’t love her. Callie was having difficulty keeping the two separate, and knew it was dangerous to think they were one and the same. Wes had never promised his heart to her. And he wouldn’t. The past was indelibly stamped upon him.
“So am I. Scared that I’ll chase you away by being so damned bold with you so fast. I don’t want you to think I’m handing you a line. I’m not…. I couldn’t ever do that to you….” Wes laughed a little unsurely and looked around them. “A helluva place to find someone like you….”
“We’ve got jobs to do….”
“I know. They—the people who need our help—come first.”
Callie nodded and slowly sat up. Her lips tingled with the power and desire of his kiss. Wes had crashed into her life like a thunderbolt, as powerful as the earthquake that had devastated Southern California. What was real? What wasn’t? She touched her lower lip with her fingertips and then gazed shyly up at him. The shadowy darkness made his face more angular and powerful-looking as he watched her in the throbbing silence. “I feel crazy inside, Wes. I can’t separate this disaster from you…and me….”
“Yeah, I know…it’s rather sudden.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “All of this is.”
“I’m exhausted,” Callie admitted quietly.
“I can see that. You almost died a few minutes ago….” He glanced toward the tunnel, which was all but closed due to the aftershock. Wes turned and gazed down at her. “You’re one of the bravest, gutsiest women I’ve ever met. Your job is so dangerous….”
The warmth of his voice filtered through her. Callie was chilled now by the coolness of the night air against her sweaty body, and Wes took off his jacket and pulled it around her, as if realizing she was getting cold. That stunned Callie. “Do you read minds, too?” she asked, hugging the coat gratefully around her. She was touched by the boyish smile he gave her as he stood up and held out his hand to her.
“No. Not usually…but you’re an exception. Come on. We’ve fixed up a makeshift bed in the back of the Humvee. You can curl up there and get some sleep.”
Callie patted Dusty, who sat dutifully nearby. He thumped his tail. “Sounds good. He needs to rest, too. Thanks.”
She gripped Wes’s outstretched hand. Dusty came to her side and she picked up his leash. Looking up at Wes, she saw him studying her critically in the gray light that washed the area.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m not sorry I kissed you. Or that I desire you.”
She avoided his hawklike gaze. “I’m not either, Wes.” And she wasn’t, but her heart was afraid as never before. As they climbed down over the rubble to the littered street below, Callie wondered if their relationship was created by this disaster. She knew from long experience and observation that people did wild and unexpected things during such a crisis, made impetuous choices they’d never entertain ordinarily. Was this what was happening to them? Was it a mixture of desire and danger that had created such a powerful alchemical mixture of such unexpected intensity between them?
Chapter Six
January 2: 2300
Drunk with exhaustion as she headed back to the camp, Callie saw Sergeant Cove creating a makeshift splint to stabilize Laura Trayhern’s badly broken right ankle. They had spread out two cammo jackets for her to lie upon near the curb where the Humvee was parked. Blankets had been laid across her to stave off hypothermia. Anyone trapped for days, unmoving and without proper protective clothing, was susceptible.
Callie liked Sergeant Cove, a calm, competent medic who seemed to roll with the punches, no matter how serious the circumstances. He didn’t have a gurney to lay Laura on to stabilize her broken leg, so he used the soft flat grass in front of the tents instead, splinting it properly with any material he could find.
Morgan Trayhern was kneeling at his wife’s side, his expression anxious as he held her slender, dirty hand between his. He gently pressed it against his chest and murmured words of comfort as Sergeant Cove worked on her ankle.
Callie felt Wes place his hand beneath her elbow as they walked across the street to see how Laura was doing. Feeling beyond fatigue, Callie wanted to lean on Wes, but that wouldn’t be wise according to regulations. The military frowned on any overt show of affection between two people in the service. Lifting her chin, she drowned in his concerned gaze instead. Her lips tingled softly as she recalled his branding, heated kiss.
As they drew near, the bright lights making everything look surreal and garish, Callie saw Laura open her eyes slightly. Wes remained at Callie’s side, but dropped his hand reluctantly from her elbow. He was the commanding officer here, and as such could not risk such affectionate displays around the rest of his team.
Mustering up a smile, Callie halted beside Morgan. “How are you doing, Laura?” she called down to her.
Laura managed a wan smile. “Much, much better…Thanks, Callie. You saved my life….”
Callie patted Dusty, who stood at her side, his tail wagging. “No, he did. He found you, after all. Give Dusty the thanks.”
Wes moved over to the other side of Morgan. “Just as you got clear of the tunnel, Mrs. Trayhern, it started collapsing. And by the time Lieutenant Evans leaped clear of it, the tunnel was destroyed. She and her dog did save your life. Literally. If they hadn’t found you before that last aftershock, the whole place would have caved in on you. We got lucky.”
Morgan looked down at his wife and tightened his grip on her hand. “My God…”
Laura sighed tremulously and closed her eyes. Tears trailed from the corners. All she could do was cling weakly to her husband’s large, warm hands.
Morgan raised his head and looked at them. “When this disaster gets straightened out, you can count on a big check coming to your unit, Callie. It’s our way of thanking you. You deserve a medal for what you did. If you hadn’t gone in there, Laura would be dead now.” His voice broke and he looked down at his wife, reaching out to try and smooth her filthy, uncombed hair away from her face. “I can’t even think what our lives would be like without her….”<
br />
The look that Callie saw pass between them resonated deeply in her heart. She glanced at Wes, who gave her a wink and then moved away.
“Corporal Orlando?” Wes called.
Orlando was standing on the driver’s side, a radio in hand. “Yes, sir?”
“Did you contact the Huey at Camp Reed? Do they know we have a medical emergency here?”
Orlando nodded. “Yes, sir, I did.” He looked at the watch on his hairy wrist. “We’re gettin’ lucky, sir. There’s a Huey diverting from its regularly scheduled grid drop and heading our way. They’re going to drop off supplies meant for another grid, and pick up Mrs. Trayhern.” He grinned. “Extra supplies can be a big help here, sir. Once we off-load the tents, food and water supplies, they said they’ll have room to fly Mrs. Trayhern and her husband back to the base and get her to the emergency room of our naval hospital for treatment.”
Wes nodded. “Good enough, Corporal. Thank you.” Although he wanted to stay and keep Morgan and his wife company, Wes couldn’t. He saw another group of civilians, people who had lived nearby, straggling down the street. Throughout the day he’d sent his bulldozers, cherry pickers and front-end loaders into the surrounding neighborhoods to help out people who had loved ones trapped in the rubble of their homes. Since Callie hadn’t found any more survivors in the hotel ruins, he could pull the equipment from there to help others in equal need until—or if she—found more. It would be easy enough to bring the equipment back.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Callie sit down on the curb and give Dusty water. Her face was gray with exhaustion. His jacket was huge on her small but courageous frame. His chest expanded fiercely with a tidal wave of emotion, making him afraid. Yet at the same time Callie’s quiet, calm presence seemed to settle over the scene, affecting all of them.
The Heart Beneath Page 10