“Will you ever go back to them and ranching?”
Gib shrugged. “When my six years were up, I could have gone back to ranching. But flying helicopters got into my blood. I decided to put in my twenty years with the corps, instead.”
Something hopeful shattered inside of Dany. If Gib loved flying and the marines that much, there would be no place in his personal life for the land. Or for someone like her. The thought was crazy in the first place, Dany chided herself. “You like what you do?”
At the puzzlement obvious in her eyes, Gib guessed what she was really asking. “I like flying. I don’t necessarily like war, Dany.”
Relief cascaded through her. “I think war is horrible,” she said. “It’s wrong. I don’t care what the politics or the reasons are. Taking another human life is unconscionable.”
Gib toyed with the pen in his hands.
“How do you feel about it?” Dany demanded.
“I believe in defending freedom, Dany. Communism is overrunning Vietnam. If we can make a difference for the people here, I feel it’s worth it. If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t have volunteered for a second tour.”
“But you fly a gunship, designed for killing.”
He met and held her accusing green gaze. “I see my aircraft as a way to protect the ARVNs and marines on the ground,” he said softly. “To defend a village against an attacking VC or NVA force, or a MASH unit that’s under fire, is okay in my book. A gunship is an offensive weapon, but it’s also a defensive one.”
She shuddered. “You don’t look like you enjoy killing.”
“I don’t. Most men don’t.”
“How can you live with it, then?”
His mouth twitched with pain. “Some nights I don’t sleep well,” he admitted. “I lie awake justifying what I do. I try to look at the positives of the situation, at the lives I’ve saved by being the intervening force, not the lives I’ve taken.” His eyebrows dipped and he studied the pen. “I don’t enjoy it, if that’s what you think. I don’t like taking a life. But I also won’t allow the lives of innocent people, civilian or military, to be taken, either. Not if I can help it.”
Dany heard the underlying anguish in his tone. There was a hidden vulnerability to Gib Ramsey, a surprising layer that she wouldn’t have expected to find in a man of war. The look of torture in his eyes when he talked about his sleepless nights tore at her heart.
“Perhaps,” Dany ventured, “you’ll find healing with the land if you go back to ranching.” She stared out the screen toward the avenue of silk trees lining the drive. “If I’m upset or worried, I can always sink my hands into the earth and feel so much better. If I work with the earth for an hour or so, I feel whatever is bothering me go away.” She smiled gently. “You understand what I mean, don’t you?”
“Better than most,” Gib agreed. “The land has been good to six generations of Ramseys. Me and my siblings were the only generation to leave the land in favor of something else—although Tess is an agricultural specialist in rice development. She’s the only one of the four of us who stayed in touch with the land.”
The tenuous, invisible bond that joined them was there, alive and wonderfully joyous. Dany absorbed Gib’s presence like land starved for sunlight. “I feel women have always had a closer tie with the earth,” she said wistfully. “The earth is like a mother to all of us. She clothes us, feeds us, keeps us alive with her air and gives us her water to drink. I look at the soil as if it were alive and breathing in my hands.”
“You’d like Vivi Ferrari, our foreman’s wife. She has very strong feelings about the earth being alive, too.”
“Still,” Dany said firmly, “the soil is in your blood. Why you traded the solidity of earth beneath your feet for wings to fly in the sky is beyond me.” She smiled.
Her smile, blinding sunlight, went straight through Gib’s heart. “Who knows? I might get out someday, go back and become a Texas rancher, carrying on the family tradition.”
Dany shifted in her chair. She didn’t want their time together to end, but she felt the invisible pressure of Binh Duc. She knew Gib had stayed too long already.
Gib saw her discomfort and realized he was overstaying his welcome. “Look, I’d like to talk to some of your villagers, if you don’t mind.”
“About the mine? They won’t know anything.”
With a shrug, Gib said, “I’ve got to do this for the investigation, Dany.”
In spite of her concern, Dany was very much aware that Gib had used her first name instead of maintaining formality. “I—oh, all right. It won’t do any good, but if you must, go ahead.”
Gib heard the hurt in her voice, and again the fear in her lovely green eyes was banked. “I’ll make this information gathering as quick and painless as possible,” he promised, getting to his feet.
“I just wish the investigation would end.”
Gib didn’t want to lose contact with her, he discovered. “Look, maybe we can wrap this up somewhere else after today,” he suggested.
Hope shone in her eyes. “Tell me how.”
“Have lunch with me next week. I know a nice little French restaurant in Da Nang. We can handle any last questions I have there.”
Dany stood. She wanted to explore Gib on a more personal level. Yet she knew she didn’t dare get involved with an American marine. Her mother had most likely been killed for just such an act. “I—”
“I’ll meet you in civilian clothes,” Gib teased. “If anyone sees us, you can tell them I’m a missionary or something.”
She laughed. “You? A missionary?”
Gib tried to look innocent. “Why not?”
Dany’s heart lightened, if but for a moment. “Your eyes are a dead giveaway, Major. You’d never make it.”
“Call me Gib. Please.”
Sobering, Dany avoided the sudden narrowing of those eyes, and the smoldering quality they aimed solely at her. She shrugged nervously, trying to ignore the sudden, euphoric warmth cascading through her. “All right, lunch. But it must be all business, Maj—I mean, Gib.”
“Purely business,” he promised huskily. Dany’s use of his first name made him feel as if he’d just won the greatest prize of his life. The whole thing was crazy, he thought, as he followed her through the house toward the village to the rear. His head screamed at him to be wary of Dany, that she still could be on the side of the VC. But the poignant moments he’d witnessed between her and Vinh and her openness with Gib had dissolved a great deal of his concern in that direction. Happy and unsettled at the same time, Gib wondered where the hell his sudden luncheon invitation had sprung from. The only explanation he had was that it had come from his heart.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dany nervously smoothed her aquamarine-colored silk ao dai, the traditional dress of Vietnamese women, as she moved along the sidewalk in the city of Da Nang. She was running late for her luncheon appointment with Gib. Major Ramsey, Dany sternly corrected herself. Her heartbeat wouldn’t steady. Every time she thought of Gib, her world dissolved and she found herself immersed in a sea of feelings and longings.
The humid wind blew gently off the sea, the salt air combining with motorbike pollution and the smell from cooking pots being stirred by street vendors. Color mixed with sounds as motorbikes spiked the air with their noise, speeding around the slower, human-pedaled bikes and bicycle rickshaws. Overhead, several dark green marine helicopters sped through the fleecy clouds toward some unknown destination. GIs walked along the street, their arms hung around the shoulders of their Vietnamese girlfriends, who wore mini skirts and knee-high plastic boots.
Dany’s heart went out to these women. She knew the poverty they lived in. They were young women who had artlessly fallen in love with Americans. Dany ached to tell them that their dreams of love or a better future wouldn’t come true with any American soldier. In a year or less, that GI would be gone, the woman left behind—more than likely pregnant—without any means of support, her dreams in fragments.
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At the French restaurant La Nouvelle France, Dany hesitated. Wrought-iron designs and blue curtains framed each window of the quaint, white stucco structure, and just inside she could see Gib sitting at a linen-draped table. She walked through the tall wrought-iron fence—a physical as well as symbolic warning to those who could not afford the cuisine. Her pulse skyrocketed momentarily, and she compressed her lips. How handsome Gib looked in his khaki slacks and light blue shirt. He turned, met her gaze, Dany’s heart pounded once to underscore the heat she saw in his eyes. Still, his smile seemed shy, almost boyish.
Gib stood and pulled out a chair across from his own as Dany entered the busy restaurant. As the maâitre d’ led her over to his table, Gib couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Dany’s hair was free, a rippling ebony curtain framing her face and providing a mantle about her shoulders. The ao dai she wore clung to every curve of her body, outlining it, the panels moving like wind around and between her long, thoroughbred legs clothed in white silk trousers. The flush to her cheeks, the clear green of her eyes and her breathless appearance rendered Gib momentarily speechless.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Dany apologized. She sat down, wildly aware of Gib’s presence behind her, his long, large-knuckled fingers draped casually over the back of her chair.
Gib took a deep, ragged breath as he seated Dany, then sat down opposite her. “I just got here myself. We’re both running late.” he smiled and held her shy gaze. “You look beautiful.”
His husky compliment flowed through her. “Thank you.”
“If someone didn’t look twice, they’d think you were Vietnamese or Eurasian.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Gib noticed the envious looks around him. “Believe me, it’s a compliment. There isn’t a marine in here that isn’t jealous of me sitting here with you.”
With a frown, Dany eased the bulky straw purse off her shoulder and placed it beside her chair. Looking around, she saw a number of marines sitting with Vietnamese women. “GI love affairs are only for the naive,” she muttered.
Gib moved uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen too many of the young girls from our village fall in love with American advisors. The men lie to the girls, tell them what they want to hear—that it’s true love. Inevitably, they talk the girls into going to bed with them. The girls get pregnant, and, at the end of their allotted time here, the GIs go back to America.” Her voice lowered with feeling. “The girls, of course, are left behind to support a half-American child.”
Taking a drink of iced tea, Gib nodded. “I can’t dispute what you’ve said.”
“I see it happen all the time,” Dany said sadly.
Gib slowly turned the cool, sweat-beaded glass between his hands. He glanced over at Dany. “What if you fell in love with an American?”
Her mouth pulled into a pained line. “What? And have him leave a year later? No, thanks. I don’t call that love.”
Gib nodded. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he entertained the thought of Dany becoming an integral part of his world. Swallowing against his disappointment, he murmured, “It’s not love when a man runs out on his woman.”
“The American GIs do it all the time, Gib.”
“Most, but not all,” he countered gently. Wanting to drop the topic, he motioned to a rolled-up piece of paper sticking out of her purse. “What’s that? A set of blueprints?” He grinned.
“Not quite.” She smiled, relieved at the change of subject. Dany didn’t want to admit even to herself that she wondered what it would be like to have a relationship with Gib. Anyway, she knew the inevitable result: abandonment. She was truly alone in the world now, and it was much safer to stay that way.
Retrieving the paper, Dany felt heat flood her face as she handed it to Gib. “Vinh made this for you. Even though you visited in civilian clothes, he knew you were a marine pilot. He’s fascinated with helicopters. Go on, look at what he drew for you.” Dany sat back to watch Gib’s face as he unrolled the drawing. His expression changed from initial surprise to obvious pleasure. A warmth stole through her as his very male mouth curved in a smile.
“I’ll be darned. This is good! Very good.” Gib held up the drawing made with pastel chalk, inspecting it closely. Vinh had drawn a Sirkorsky helicopter like Gib’s, flying against a pale pink sky with the many colors of the jungle below it. In the lower left-hand corner, the boy had painstakingly printed his full name, the date and his country.
“I can’t believe his talent,” Gib uttered in awe. “His attention to detail is incredible. Look at this—” He turned the drawing around and laid it out on the linen-covered table.
Joy coursed through Dany as Gib flushed with obvious delight. “I told you Vinh was artistic. Isn’t he wonderful? He’s never seen one of your helicopters up close—just flying over the plantation.”
“The kid’s got a set of eagle eyes,” Gib said ruefully. He rolled up the drawing with care and set it beside him. “Tell him thank-you for me, will you?”
Dany held his gaze. “You won’t throw it away?”
Taken aback, Gib said, “Of course not. I intend to mail it to the ranch. My foreman’s wife, Vivi, will take good care of it until I get home.”
“Oh…good.” Dany gave a small, apologetic shrug. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that I know Vinh will ask me what you thought of his drawing and what you’ll do with it.”
“I intend to have it matted and framed,” Gib promised. “Vinh’s something special.”
“He likes you.”
“Really? All he did when he walked out on the veranda was stare at me from time to time.”
“He was too shy to talk to you. He told me later he had a million questions to ask you about flying a helicopter.”
With a chuckle, Gib reached out and touched Dany’s hand. It wasn’t something he’d thought about; the gesture was instinctive, guided by his heart. Her skin felt cool and moist from the air conditioning. It was a hand used to working the soil on a daily basis, he thought. He looked up and saw Dany’s eyes, widened in shock at his gesture, so he gently released her fingers. Shaken by his own lack of control, Gib said, “I’ve got an idea. How about if I take you and Vinh down on our flight line? I’ll let him get in the helo, show him around.”
“When?”
“Now. Today. I’m not scheduled to fly this afternoon, so we could drive over to your plantation after we’re done eating and pick up Vinh.”
The complete intimacy of Gib’s touch, the enthusiasm and excitement in his deep Texas drawl, moved her as nothing else could. “Well…” Dany struggled for a response. “I—”
“Vinh deserves to be rewarded,” Gib said seriously. He badly wanted Dany to agree to his plan. He was being selfish: he didn’t want his time with Dany to end.
Her senses dizzied by Gib’s touch, Dany groped for a way to turn down his invitation. His smile deepened, and she lost herself in his warm hazel gaze. Then she forced herself to look down, sensing he knew his effect on her. Mouth dry, Dany whispered, “I suppose…”
“I don’t want to compromise your neutrality.”
Dany shook her head. A huge part of her, the woman who’d been alone all her life, wanted desperately to remain in his company. Her head warned her that taking Vinh to the marine base was a dangerous decision that could eventually affect her tentative neutrality with Binh Duc. Dany struggled to smile. “Vinh would be overjoyed.”
Gib tasted immediate relief. “And you?”
“Anything having to do with war, with killing, makes me uncomfortable.”
Disappointed, Gib understood. “Maybe I could drop by and pick up Vinh?” Gib would have preferred taking both of them to the base, but he respected Dany too much to give into his own selfish need.
A sadness enveloped Dany. For a fleeting moment, she wanted his touch so badly.
“Since Maman’s passing, Vinh has been like a little man about the house. He’s trying to fill
in her shoes and be responsible for helping me in so many small ways. I know he’d love to go with you and see your helicopter.”
“Great.” Gib tried to hide his personal disappointment. He saw the waiter coming toward them to take their order and smiled over at Dany. “Hungry?”
The hunger gnawing at Dany wasn’t something that could be sated with food. She gave a small smile. “Perhaps a salad, some French bread and a glass of red wine?”
Gib nodded to the waiter. “I’ll have the same,” he said. As he returned his attention to her, he was struck again by her earthy beauty. Dany wore no makeup, yet her golden skin shone like subdued sunlight, her black curtain of hair reminding him of the velvet jungle darkness and her sea green eyes were warm with invitation. Swallowing, he said, “Speaking of your mother, I thought you’d like to know what I’ve found out so far.”
The tension between them snapped. Dany took a long, uneven breath. Her voice was strained when she spoke. “What have you found out?”
“It appears on the surface that Binh Duc is responsible.” Gib kept his voice low so no one could hear their conversation. He saw Dany go very still, a flash of anger in her narrowed eyes. “Constable Jordan has an informant who told him about Binh Duc’s involvement. Apparently, the informant is a double agent loyal to the ARVN who pretends to be a VC in order to gather information.”
“Duc did this?” Dany choked out the words. Her hands knotted into fists beneath the tablecloth.
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