Risk Taker

by Lindsay McKenna

  Ethan wanted any excuse to spend time with Sarah. Her eyes turned warm, her cheeks flushed and he sensed her happiness even though she wasn’t smiling. Sarah was a complex person with a lot of depth and secrets.

  Yesterday’s talk had made him feel like a jerk. He hadn’t wanted to see the tortured look on her face as she’d recounted her painful childhood. Somehow, Ethan wanted to make it up to her. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask her any more personal questions for a while. She deserved happiness, not going into that vat of misery again. He could see her seriously thinking about his request.

  Sarah slid off the stool, leaned down and retrieved her baseball cap. Straightening, she asked, “I’ll see you then?” She put the cap on, drawing the bill down until it was almost level with her eyes. She felt a thrill move through her as she looked at Ethan.

  “I’ll see you out,” Ethan said, gesturing toward the door. He was walking on air but keeping his game face on.

  Sarah had already chosen the last table against the wall and gone through the chow line when she saw Ethan arrive. He spotted her immediately out of hundreds of people. Amazed, she nodded toward him, letting him know she saw him, too. Of all the black ops types presently in the chow hall, Ethan stood out. Sarah wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he was so tall? His solid confidence? Or maybe the weapons he carried? He was the only man with a SOG SEAL knife in a sheath on his lower left calf and a drop holster on his right thigh with a SIG Sauer 9 mm pistol in it. That SIG was a calling card to everyone that he was a SEAL.

  She enjoyed watching him. His movements were economical and fluid, his body honed into a male version of gracefulness.

  As she sat there, her entire body began to come to life, as if hidden coals of feminine hunger were awakening, blazing brightly within her. Ethan’s maleness, his rock-solid self-assurance, turned her on. It didn’t hurt he was damn good-looking even though, like all black ops types, he wore a beard. They had to in order to blend in with the Muslim male population.

  Ethan smiled at her as he took the bench so his back would be against the wall. That way, he could see the entrance and exit points in the building and observe what was going on. SEALs did not like to be caught off guard. “Sorry I’m late. Last-minute stuff I had to talk over with Master Chief Gil Hunter.” He sat down. His tray was piled high with carbs and protein.

  “No worries,” Sarah assured him. “I have some bad news for you. My CO isn’t going to let me land, stay behind and help off-load those shoes for your kids in that village. I can only drop you and the shoes off and then I have to leave. I can come back and pick you up when you make the call.”

  He saw she was bummed out. “You have a copilot, but it requires both of you in order to fly that bird.”

  “Don’t go there. I want this to be an enjoyable lunch. Okay?”

  His mouth twitched as he picked up a slice of bread and buttered it. “Fair enough. I have good news. The master chief is willing to give me the day off. He says it’s a good nation-building exercise.” He saw the dejection in her eyes. “You know, SEALs are famous for doing work-arounds? If we get stopped from doing something one way, we just figure out another way to accomplish it.”

  Sarah watched him dig into the chicken parmesan on his tray. Ethan had three chicken breasts piled high. Sarah knew the heat and long missions for any black ops men were brutal. They burned up thousands of calories in a day, she was once told by a Special Forces captain. “Okay,” she offered, confused. “What does thinking outside the box have to do with me and my predicament?”

  Grinning, Ethan said between bites, “I’ll make a call to Captain Shaheen. Tell him the situation and suggest he call your major and ask for a free-floating pilot. His NGO owns two CH-47s. If he can get your major to let you fly one, then he shouldn’t have a problem with it. That way—” his eyes gleamed “—you can fly in with us from Bravo to the village.”

  “I am CH-47 qualified,” Sarah told him, excitement rising in her. Then she frowned. “But Captain Shaheen doesn’t want that bird on the ground any longer than necessary, either.”

  “His wife, Emma, is the other pilot. She can drop you and me off at the village and fly in later and pick us up.” Ethan liked the idea of having an entire day with Sarah. A slight glint flared in her eyes.

  “If you can pull this off, Ethan, I’m good to go. I love kids. It would be nice to be among them.” And it would. Sarah doted on children with good reason. She told herself she wanted to do this just for the children. And knew she was lying in part, because she also wanted to be around Ethan.

  “I’ll make it work,” he gloated, meeting her tentative smile. He motioned to her tray. “Are you not hungry?”

  Sarah picked up her fork, a feeling of tension washing through her. “A little.” Ethan was easy to be around. He didn’t threaten her. “It’s your turn,” she told him with a dark look.

  “To do what?”

  “To tell me about your childhood. It sounded wonderful from what little you shared with me yesterday.”

  “Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “I was born in Anchorage, Alaska, where my dad, who was in the Navy, was stationed. After he retired, he bought a small ranch in Texas. My mother, Rose, is a grade school teacher. Me and my two brothers and sister were raised to work hard and play hard.”

  “It sounds idyllic,” Sarah murmured. “At heart, you’re a military brat?”

  Ethan kept his emotions under tight wraps. It was disconcerting as hell because he could feel Sarah’s genuine sincerity of wanting to know who he was. It excited him. It scared the hell out of him. “We were tumbleweeds for sure. I liked it. I have an insatiable curiosity about people and cultures. My sister, Julie, loved it, too. She’s a linguist, fluent in four languages, and is a translator. My brothers, Mike and Dan, are in the military like me.”

  “You’re lucky you have siblings,” Sarah said, finishing her salad. Discovering she was hungry, which was unusual because combat usually dulled her desire to eat, she moved on to her bowl of beef stew.

  “I think so.” Ethan grinned. “We’d always had each other’s back when one of us got in trouble. Looking back on those days, I’m sure my dad and mom knew, but they let it slide.”

  She studied him for a moment. “Is Julie in the military, too?”

  “Just my brothers. Julie got her teaching certificate and is following in Mom’s shoes. She teaches French. Dan and Mike are in the Marine Corps.”

  “So you’re the only SEAL in the family?”

  Nodding, Ethan said, “I like the water.”

  “No water around here,” Sarah pointed out drily. “You’re a beached SEAL.”

  Ethan laughed heartily. He saw the effects of his laughter reflected in her expression. Did he see happiness lurking in those always shadowed, wary-looking eyes of her? It made him feel good. “I’m a landlubber for sure right now, but SEALs get trained in all aspects of black ops—sea, air and land.”

  “Do you like what you’re doing?” she wondered.

  “I’m passionate about it.” Then Ethan became more somber and added, “Just like you’re passionate as a medevac pilot about your mission to get to the wounded and give those guys a chance to live.”

  The words Ethan used made her think of the stanza of the poem. Studying him beneath her lashes, she saw the commitment in his darkened gray eyes. Sarah was discovering that when Ethan was passionate about something, his eyes took on more intensity. When he was happy, they lightened. It was a small discovery, but it infused her with happiness. As her gaze dropped to his mouth, her lower body ached. What would it be like to kiss Ethan? And if she did, Sarah knew her life would never be the same again. Fear of the unknown rose up in her.

  Chapter 9

  Sarah had set her alarm clock for 0500. Major Donaldson had happily given her permission to go as backup pilot on the NGO’s CH-47 today. Somehow, Ethan had made it happen, and she woke up seriously looking forward to the day. The first place her gaze went was the front of her tent. And there
, on the plywood floor, was another white envelope. Her heart picked up in beat as she sleepily pushed herself out of the cot and walked over and picked it up.

  Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened it up. Anxiously, Sarah lifted the blue parchment, wanting to see the next stanza he had written.

  Singing forever into spaces few could have imagined

  Let alone foreseen. There are layers of mango and gypsum

  Marshmallow and honeysuckle, iridescent turquoise,

  Fog and vapor, wisps and thunderclouds.

  And it is given to us how foolish we were to ever think

  We had you pegged, as you unravel into affinity and wonder,

  Inhabiting rooms which here to now we barely could have imagined.

  (More as the busy poet has time)

  Sarah felt Ethan had seen through her heavily guarded walls, that he saw the real person. He had even picked up the turquoise color of her eyes. His eloquence was driving her to confront him. She loved the words, and they meant so much to her.

  Reluctantly, she set aside the poem and glanced at her watch. She was to meet Ethan at the chow hall in thirty minutes. The NGO helo would be coming in with Emma Trayhern-Shaheen at the controls. Excited about her day, looking forward to helping the destitute children, Sarah got dressed and ready.

  *

  Sarah sat with Ethan, watching him gulp down his meal as if he were starved. She forced herself to eat because she knew it was going to be a long day. When he finally slowed down, she narrowed her eyes and held his gaze.

  “You’ve been writing those poems and putting them under my tent flap. Haven’t you?” Her heart thudded because if she was wrong, she would feel foolish. Ethan stared at her as if stunned. And then a ruddy flush rose up his neck and swept across his face. For once, he was speechless.

  “How did you know?”

  “I was awake the first time you pulled the tent flap open to put the envelope inside it,” she said, still tense, unsure of why he was writing such beautiful poetry to her.

  “Oh…”

  He looked so crestfallen. “What? You’re a SEAL and you got caught in stealth mode?” A grin nudged at one corner of her mouth.

  “I thought… I knew it was a risk. I was running late…. I had wanted to finish the poem and get the first stanza to you, but things went haywire at the HQ. I had to drop what I was doing and attend to other things. I didn’t get back to it until after dawn.” Ethan shook his head and gave her an apologetic look. “I meant it as a surprise. Something I hoped would make you happy after getting the crap beat out of you by that Army sergeant. I didn’t want you to think all men were like that guy who attacked you.”

  Her heart warmed. This time, Sarah allowed it to fully embrace her. “Is that why you wrote me the poem?”

  Ethan pushed his tray aside, then folded his hands, never more serious. “I’ve always been attracted to you, Sarah. I wanted to get to know you, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to hit on you like every other guy was doing. I knew you hated it, and I don’t blame you. And just getting to hold you…carry you…to the E.R., I went crazy trying to figure out a nonthreatening way to reach you.”

  “Then why didn’t you sign your name? It was a good thing I saw you, Ethan. I would have, for sure, thought it was the pilots in my squadron playing another dirty trick on me.”

  “I didn’t think—”

  “You didn’t know what I’ve been up against in the squadron…the tricks…”

  “I’m sorry, Sarah.” Ethan searched her eyes. “Did…you like the poem so far? Or do you want me to stop sending them to you?”

  Sarah had never seen a man be as vulnerable as Ethan was being with her right now. She knew he was unguarded, no game face, but authentic and honest. “I loved the poem, Ethan. I love receiving them. They’re like new life being breathed into me when I read the lines.” She quirked her mouth and looked away, a war raging inside her. “I so wanted to believe you. I knew you were writing about how you saw me. And—” she swallowed, her voice hoarse “—I loved how you saw me because that’s not the way I see myself….”

  *

  The children waited like wriggling, excited puppies as Ethan and Sarah carried the bulky cardboard boxes filled with shoes into the Afghan village. The sun was just edging the sharp peaks of the Hindu Kush mountains; slats of gold light shot across the green, narrow valley. The mothers of the children kept their charges away from the opened gate that led into the walled village of 150 Shinwari people.

  The wife of the leader of the village had thoughtfully provided several large tables to place the boxes on, and, like a good leader, she asked mothers and excited children to line up. As soon as the boxes were on one table, Sarah sat down to begin to fit the shoes on the little girls’ feet. Ethan sat at another table opposite her, ready to work with the boys. Muslim law didn’t allow Sarah to work with boys. Ethan could never talk to or touch a Muslim woman or female child, either.

  The coolness of the morning was delightful, and Sarah made sure her dark green scarf was over her head, honoring Muslim tradition. The village leader’s wife smiled and provided tea. She had even given her a rare umbrella so that she could be shaded by the coming hundred-degree heat that would occur by noon. For that, Sarah was grateful.

  She smiled over at Ethan, who was about ten feet away. He seemed ecstatic over being able to help the children. Her heart lurched in her breast because the heated look he gave her made her very aware that he wanted her. Swallowing hard, Sarah tucked the awareness away and focused on the little girls looking up at her, their eyes shining with excitement.

  By early afternoon, in the heat of the day, Sarah had finished giving every little girl a new pair of shoes, and Ethan had done the same for the boys. She heard the CH-47 coming back to pick them up. Ethan had given the wife of the leader the cardboard boxes; they would use them as fuel for their cooking fires. Nothing was ever wasted in Afghanistan.

  Ethan walked up to Sarah. He had never seen her so relaxed, her blue eyes shining with such happiness. God, how he wanted to reach out, cup her flushed cheek and kiss her. She wore no makeup, but her natural beauty required nothing else. The green scarf had settled around the shoulders of her flight suit; her black hair was loose and free around her shoulders. He felt his heart pick up in beat as she looked up and smiled at him. A smile that told him she was honestly happy to be in his company.

  “Hey,” he said. “When Emma lands, we’ll hustle on board and take off for Bagram.”

  “Bagram?” Sarah walked with him out the gate of the village, waving goodbye to the leader and his wife. “I thought Emma would take us back to Camp Bravo?”

  Ethan responded with a feral smile.

  “Okay, what’s going on?”

  Shrugging, Ethan grinned. “Hey, your major approved it. I sent him the flight info, that we’d be making an open-jaw stop. One at the village, one at Bagram and then flying back to Bravo.”

  Frowning as she walked at his side, Sarah said, “I didn’t see the flight info.”

  Ethan took the flight report from one of his pockets and handed it to her. Was Sarah disappointed? She seemed worried as she took the orders and read them. “Are you upset about it?” he asked as they stood on an open field outside the village. He had plans, or so he thought, to be with her a little while away from the military world.

  After reading the flight report, Sarah handed it back to him. “I’m in enough hot water with my CO. I just didn’t want any more trouble.” She looked up into his warm gray gaze, feeling herself go weak with longing. Ethan was tall; his shoulders were back with natural pride. The confidence around him was palpable. She’d struggled all her life with low self-esteem and was in awe of people like him who had that incredible self-assurance. It made her trust him a little more, when, ordinarily, she wouldn’t have.

  “I’ve got your back,” Ethan assured her in a husky tone, giving her a concerned look. “If it’s okay with you, Emma and Khalid are inviting us over to the
ir villa for dinner tonight. I thought you might like to have some time off and just be with some of my good friends for a bit?” He peered into her widening eyes and saw them shimmer with sudden excitement. “I mean,” he teased as the CH-47 was coming in for a landing, “you strike me as a woman of many facets and that you were up for a little adventure.”

  “I live for it,” Sarah said. Again, the poem stanza gently rose before Sarah. The words… And they were about her. What would Ethan’s mouth feel like beneath her lips? Taste like? She found her womb beginning to ache with need. The glint in his eyes sent flashes of heat through her. Ethan wanted to kiss her, too. Turning away, breaking the silent energy strung hotly between them, Sarah licked her lips, feeling scared and yet wanting him. She hated that tug-of-war feeling that always rose when she was with a man.

  Emma flew them back to Bagram in the CH-47 helicopter. It was only a thirty-minute ride, and Sarah enjoyed the sun hanging low on the western horizon over the desert. Her heart, however, focused on Ethan, who rode in the back on one of the nylon seats. He wanted to kiss her. It was there, in his eyes. Just thinking about it made her heart beat faster, her body yearn for his touch. Sarah didn’t know what to expect at Emma and Khalid’s villa outside Kabul. Feeling excited, Sarah forced herself to stay alert. She knew the Taliban didn’t care that this CH-47 was an NGO and not a military helo. They’d try and take it out of the air. NGOs were equally at risk in this country.

  *

  Ethan walked with Sarah in the fragrant garden of roses and jasmine after dinner at the Shaheen villa. Above them, the stars hung near and glimmered in the velvet black sky. He guided her to a stone bench along the tiled walkway. The villa was completely surrounded by a ten-foot rock wall with razor-sharp concertina wire strung across the top. Gurkha Indian security guards kept the villa safe from Taliban attacks. The fragrance of the jasmine wafted in the cool night air as they sat down.

  “Did you enjoy dinner with Emma and Khalid?” he asked.

  Sarah pushed her fingers through her hair. “I did. They’re wonderful people. Very compassionate and caring.” She felt his warmth and attention, but it didn’t scare her as it might with other men. She studied Ethan’s deeply shadowed face. The full moon rose in the east, its luminous light touching the garden here and there.