Comrades In Arms (In Love and War Anthology)

by Lindsay McKenna

“I was born in Barton’s Junction, Wyoming. My family owns a cattle ranch at the edge of the Tetons, the most mountainous part of the state. I have two younger brothers and a sister. They all work on the ranch, helping out my parents.”

  Tara opened her eyes and, against her better judgment, looked over at him. She was surprised at how the tension had drained out of Dave’s face as he lay there on his side, one arm propping him up. “You don’t like being a cattle rancher?” she asked.

  He shrugged and quirked his mouth. Picking at a thread on the Oriental rug beneath the pallets they rested on, he murmured, “My dad was in Army Special Forces during the Vietnam War. I was raised on the stories he told us, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I like the adventure.”

  “And you’re the eldest son, right?” She smiled a little when his mouth softened. Tara found Dave’s mouth absolutely mesmerizing. He had a full lower lip, the upper one slightly thinner. She could tell instantly from the way he held his mouth and the look in his eyes what he was feeling. Maybe he thought she couldn’t interpret nonverbal signs, but that was her specialty, and Tara was finding it very easy to read him.

  “Yeah, guess I fell into that trap, didn’t I?” He chuckled.

  “You’re making a career out of the army? Put in your twenty and then go home and become a rancher?”

  “Looks like it,” he murmured, drowning in her wide eyes. Tara was incredibly easy to talk to. “I was only going to do six years, to fulfill my officer’s commission, but….” He frowned.

  “Uh-oh, real life intruded, right?”

  Cocking his head, he studied her in the gathering silence. “What is it about you? I find myself wanting to spill my guts to you.”

  It was her turn to laugh softly. Opening her hands, Tara said in a quiet tone, “I’m mother confessor over in the intelligence section. Everybody comes to me and tells me their sad stories.”

  “You don’t look like a mother confessor.”

  “No?” Tara found herself melting beneath his teasing grin. The way his mouth quirked caught her off guard once more. Fleetingly, she wondered how well he kissed. Very well, she bet. Suddenly frightened of the way her thoughts were meandering, she tried to remain immune to him.

  “You’re too young and pretty.” He held up his hand. “I know, I know, that’s not a politically correct thing to say to a fellow army officer….”

  “But it’s a nice compliment. Thank you.” Tara felt heat scalding her neck and flowing up into her face. Thank goodness the semidarkness would hide her blush from him!

  Dave realized he was letting his stupid heart lead his head. Hadn’t he learned his lesson about women yet? But there was something guileless and trusting about Tara McCain. When he’d seen her soothing, low voice work its magic on Khalid, he’d felt an instant respect for her. The old chieftain was smitten with her from the looks of it, but that wasn’t a bad thing, in Dave’s opinion. It was better than Khalid having issues with her being a woman in the army.

  Clearing her throat nervously, Tara tried to move on to a less personal topic. “You said you were going to spend six years in the army and then get out and go home. What made you change your mind?”

  “Hmm? Oh, that. Well…” He scowled. “I got married.”

  Tara grinned. “That’s supposed to be a happy time. From the look on your face, it was a disaster.”

  “It wasn’t at first,” he murmured. Why was he bleeding out his sob story to Tara? Dave couldn’t help himself. Her liquid eyes were so wide and compassionate that he felt himself falling helplessly beneath her magic. “Wanda, my ex-wife, was a wild child. I guess what drew me to her initially was her free spirit. Sort of like Halima. She reminds me of that same type of rebellious personality.”

  “That’s not all bad. Being independent.”

  Dave nodded. “Attraction of opposites, I guess,” he said, staring blankly down at the dark carpet between them. He traced the flowery design with his index finger, lost in the pain of his past. “She was a lot younger than me. Actually, she was the daughter of an army major.”

  “What attracted you to her?” Tara wondered what kind of women Dave liked. Obviously, the wild child variety, which wasn’t what she was at all. Maybe she should feel relieved. Instead, she felt disheartened. Why?

  “Loved to party. Wasn’t afraid to be herself. She was full of life.”

  “I imagine she gave her parents a run for their money. Most army brats aren’t rebellious. They toe the line and are conservative by nature.”

  “You got that right,” Dave chuckled. “I think her father was relieved she was marrying me. It got her out of their household and into mine.”

  Tara saw the pain in his eyes as she met his fleeting gaze. He immediately dropped his eyes, slowly tracing the design in the carpet over and over again. “And life was good?” she prodded.

  “For a while, yeah. We were married for three years and then it fell apart. The divorce was ugly. I never want to go through that again.”

  “I’m sorry. Any children?”

  “No, thank goodness, there weren’t.”

  Tiredness was stealing over Tara. She closed her eyes. “And how long ago was that?”

  “Two years ago.” Dave looked over at her. Tara’s eyes were closed, her thick lashes resting against the planes of her cheeks. Fighting an urge to reach out and graze her skin with his fingers, he sighed instead and allowed the silence to lengthen between them. Five minutes later, he knew by the way her breasts rose and fell gently beneath the uniform that Tara had fallen asleep.

  Sitting up, Dave drew the thin blanket up across her shoulders. He didn’t want her to get chilled. September in this country brought hot days and cool nights. As he tucked her in, Dave had the wild, hungry urge to kiss those soft, parted lips of hers. No way. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.

  Easing back onto his pallet, he frowned and pulled the blanket up to his waist. Facing the door, his M–4 rifle near his hand, he knew he had to separate these startling new feelings he had toward Tara from the mission that lay ahead of them. Tomorrow, everyone’s lives would be on the line.

  As he closed his eyes, Dave tried not to think of Tara as a target. The last thing he wanted was for her to be wounded or killed. His heart simply couldn’t handle that possibility.

  Chapter 3

  “I think you’ve made believers out of the people of Tarin Kowt,” Tara said to Dave as they sat in the all-terrain vehicle on a hillside above the village. It was nearly dusk. The October sky above them was pink and lavender. The sun had already set. Some thin, high cirrus clouds spread across the sky like a horse’s tail.

  Dave stirred in the driver’s seat. “A week makes a difference, doesn’t it?”

  “Getting all the helicopter supplies, including food packets, in for Chief Khalid and his people made them believe your team is serious and here to stay.”

  “It’s true. It has.” Because he had not had many opportunities to be alone with Tara during daylight hours, Dave had driven up the dusty road from the village to a barren hill overlooking the small valley where Tarin Kowt nestled. He savored his time alone with Tara even though he knew he shouldn’t. It was true they slept close to one another in the munitions room of Khalid’s small home, and that was a special hell for Dave. He wasn’t getting the sleep he needed because he wanted her in his arms.

  “You’ve been part of the magic of this week,” he murmured, cocking his head in her direction. Even in male Afghan clothes, Tara looked feminine to him. The thick frame of her dark lashes emphasized the beauty of her blue eyes. When her lips lifted and she grinned back at him, his heart skittered with need. For her.

  “Let’s give Halima credit, too. She’s a real warrior, that one. And she can ride a horse like no one’s business.”

  Laughing softly, Dave gazed out over the valley. They had the Taliban on the run, but it was never safe. Sitting too long on the hill could make them a target, drawing mortar or sniper fire. “Yeah, she was
practically born on one.” He started the engine and began the slow descent down the rocky, dusty yellow trail that served as a road. All around them the shadows of night began to creep over the barren, mountainous desert, creating perfect hiding places for Taliban soldiers.

  “My butt’s still sore from riding all day yesterday,” Tara griped good-naturedly. “You sat on that horse like you were born to it. But then, you were raised on a Wyoming cattle ranch.”

  Yesterday, they’d ridden into the surrounding mountains with Khalid and his men in search of a Taliban leader. Halima had headed the column, for she knew some of their hideouts from sneaking up on them and locating them on a hand-drawn map she’d created.

  Dave roused himself and stayed on the track. Getting off it might cause them to drive over a land mine. The mines left by the Russians a decade earlier were real killers of Afghan people. Khalid had given Dave and the team a map that indicated where known minefields were located.

  “With a continual supply of gas and food,” he told her as they bumped down the hill, “we’ll be able to investigate that fortress that Halima says has tunnels.”

  “When are we going?” Tara allowed herself a moment to study Dave’s rugged profile. Since coming to Tarin Kowt, he’d been busy eighteen hours a day, barely grabbing enough sleep in their tiny makeshift quarters to keep going. How she looked forward to those few hours with him. Oh, she would never admit it to him…. Tara found herself fighting hourly not to like Dave more than she should. She reminded herself that he was based in Kentucky, and she in Washington, D.C. A long-distance relationship just wouldn’t work.

  “Day after tomorrow, when we get new supplies.”

  “Is your boss in Kandahar happy with your progress?” Tara knew that Navy Seabees were coming in to make the small airport at Tarin Kowt accessible to larger aircraft. Right now, it was a yellow dirt strip just outside the village, and they were resupplied by helicopters.

  “Yeah, real happy.” Dave rubbed his chin, which was rough from a thick growth of beard. None of his men had shaved since coming to the country. They wanted to melt into the Afghan population as much as possible, to become chameleons so the Taliban couldn’t single them out. That provided a modicum of safety—except in Tara’s case; she couldn’t grow a beard. During the day, though, she usually wrapped a white swath from her turban across her nose and lower face so that all that showed were her luminous blue eyes. And from a distance, no Taliban soldier could know she was American, a soldier or a woman. Still, Dave lived in terror of her being hurt. He wasn’t sure how he would handle it if Tara did get wounded—or worse, killed in the line of duty. His heart just didn’t want to go there.

  “Hey, tonight, when we get to our room, I have a special surprise for you,” he said, grinning over at her before returning his focus to the road. They eased down the last slope and he picked up speed, heading toward the village, where a few oil lamps shone in the darkness.

  Her heart speeding up momentarily, Tara smiled. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, something special I ordered for you the last time I talked to the supply sergeant back in Kandahar.” Absorbing her sparkling blue gaze, he felt his heart swell with joy. He was discovering he wanted to do little things for Tara. She never complained about the long hours, the choking dust, the lack of facilities or anything else. Truly, she made him proud she was an army officer. His men, too, had come to respect her, and were absorbing her into the “family” as a result. To them, she was like a little sister that needed taking care of, and she treated them all like big brothers. A lot of his fear that she wouldn’t assimilate had been nothing but prejudice on his part, Dave realized.

  Now, he was glad Tara was with them. It perked his men up. They enjoyed her company, because Tara could tease just as mercilessly as they could. Yes, with her special presence, Dave had seen Tiger 01 lighten up, laugh a lot more and relax, even though they were in combat conditions.

  “I like surprises,” Tara confided.

  “Good,” he said with another smile.

  Tara had taken a cooling shower outside the house in a device that Sergeant Lovell had specially made for her and the team. The shower was a simple thing, but being able to wash the sweat and that fine, irritating dust off her body at the end of the day was a delicious feeling. It was the highlight of her evening. Aware of the degree of modesty required of a woman in Afghanistan, Tara had borrowed several of Halima’s cotton shifts and they hung below her knees.

  Toweling her freshly washed hair, she entered the house quietly and padded to the munitions room. The door was open. Dave had showered earlier. A sputtering oil lamp on a dusty table provided the only light in the tiny area. Shutting the door quietly, she turned and stepped around Dave, who was sitting cross-legged in his T-shirt and a clean pair of fatigues. His boots were off, his long feet bare.

  “You look beautiful,” he observed as Tara sat down on her pallet only feet away from him. Her hair was spiky from being rubbed dry with the green towel.

  “Thanks…I don’t know about ‘beautiful,’ but I sure feel wonderful getting cleaned up.” Running her fingers through her hair, she found her small comb and quickly tamed the strands into place. Looking up, she smiled at Dave. “Okay, do I get my prezzie?”

  “Prezzie?” He drowned in her luminous eyes, darkened by the night shadows. Only the dancing yellow light of the oil lamp allowed him to see her features.

  “Yeah, that’s what my family calls them—prezzies. Short for presents or gifts.” She held out her hand. “Well?”

  Laughing softly, Dave pulled out a small sack and handed it to her. “I’m afraid it isn’t wrapped….” he said apologetically.

  “Hey, we’re at war,” she murmured, taking the sack and placing it in her lap. Quickly opening it up, she gasped. “Oh! Hand lotion!”

  Something warm and melting moved through Dave. The joy in her soft cry sifted through him like a sigh of pleasure. “It’s not much…. I asked the supply sergeant if he could wrangle some. I saw your skin peeling and I knew you needed some protection….”

  Without thinking, Tara rose up on her knees, threw her arms around Dave’s broad, capable shoulders and kissed him on the mouth. It was a swift peck, meant to thank him from the bottom of her heart for his sensitivity and thoughtfulness. She’d never complained about her itchy skin, but he’d seen her suffering, noted it and had done something wonderful for her.

  “Thank you, Dave,” she whispered, her arms still around his shoulders, her knees touching his. “You are so thoughtful!”

  Tara’s unanticipated kiss unhinged him. When she remained so close, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears of gratefulness, he lost control. The driving need to touch her, to kiss her, overwhelmed him.

  “I need you,” he rasped, and, lifting his arms, he brought her fully against him. If Tara had hesitated, tensed or shown any interest in being released, Dave would have done so instantly. But she didn’t. Instead, as he slid his arm around her waist and brought her into his embrace, her body folded and melted gracefully against his. When he looked down into her uplifted face, saw her eyes huge with desire, he knew she wanted him to kiss her. He was old enough, experienced enough, to recognize the look of desire on a woman’s face.

  Leaning down, he slid his arm around her lower back and captured her hips so that he could feel the warm softness of her breasts and abdomen against his body. As he brushed her lips the first time, he heard and felt her sigh. Her mouth was soft, beguiling, and as he moved his lips across hers, he felt her smile. When her arms tightened and she pressed herself more fully against him, Dave shuddered with heightening desire. This time he claimed her mouth, now wet and slick, with a deep, searching kiss. She tasted minty, and he realized she’d just brushed her teeth. The clean smell of Tara, that womanly fragrance, entered his flaring nostrils and he drank it in like the starving man he was.

  And when she returned his hot, hungry kiss, her mouth equally eager for contact, and her fingers moving slowly across his skull, tangl
ing in his short hair, another, deeper shudder rolled through him. He slid his lips across hers in a commanding but cajoling manner. Breathing raggedly, Dave felt her breasts rising and falling quickly against his chest. How he wished they were naked! His mind was turning to mush. His heart was banging like a sledgehammer in his chest. He wanted Tara. All of her. Now.

  Running his hand upward, he moved his fingers across her damp hair, down her slender neck and then cupped her jaw, imprisoning her so he could tangle his tongue sinuously with hers. When he heard her moan as she arched against him, her breasts taut, the nipples hard and insistent against his chest, Dave groaned. Tara was just as needy as he. It was mutual.

  He eased his mouth from hers and placed kiss after kiss on her broad brow, her closed eyelids, the soft skin of her cheek and down the slender column of her neck. The shift she wore covered most of her body, so Dave pressed a kiss on her partly exposed collarbone and allowed his fingers to move in a caressing motion across the fullness of her breast.

  Tara moaned again.

  Leaning down, he placed his lips against the fabric where the peak of her breast thrust upward. As he suckled her, she cried out softly in pleasure and her arms tightened around his neck. His heart arced in joy over giving her such happiness.

  And then reality struck him. He couldn’t make love to her here. At least, not now. Easing his lips from her hardened nipple, he found her mouth and kissed her deeply once more. Tara was vulnerable, the kind of partner he’d always wanted and never found. She was bold, hungry and equal to him in every way. Opening his eyes, he cradled her in his arms and reluctantly eased her away from him enough so that he could look into her eyes. Her fine nostrils were flared and her hands stroked his neck restlessly. Dave absorbed her touch as she slid her fingers through his short, thick hair, to his shoulders and back again in gentle, caressing motions.

  Tara gazed up into Dave’s dark, narrowed eyes, which burned like fire. Heart hammering, her lips tingling wildly from his passionate kiss, she found she couldn’t speak. It was impossible. She could only feel. And then feel some more. When he lifted one hand to graze her hair, cheek and chin, she saw a sad smile shadow his strong, male mouth.