Ride the Tiger

by Lindsay McKenna

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gib’s hands were sweaty as he sat down next to Dany. “There’s no easy way to say this,” he told her hoarsely. “I’m here under orders, Dany.”

  Dany saw the agony in Gib’s eyes, not understanding why he was so upset. Still shaky in the aftermath of their fiery kisses, she shrugged. “Just tell me, Gib. It’s all right.”

  If only he could take away the hurt he knew was going to inflict upon her. “I’m here as a liaison officer,” Gib said grimly, “a person who negotiates for high command. Dany, the government wants to buy your plantation and turn it into a heliport.” He saw the shock register in her eyes and dove on. “They’ve authorized me to offer you eight hundred thousand dollars in U.S. funds, if you’ll sell, and—”

  A cry wrenched from her and she stumbled to her feet. “No! Oh, Gib, you aren’t serious, are you?” She stared down at him, her eyes round with disbelief.

  “I’m dead serious, Dany.” Gesturing to the file he’d set on the coffee table earlier, Gib said, “All the papers are in there for you to sign. My government is willing to pay you fair market value for your land.” He forced himself to look up at Dany, trying to steel himself for what he knew he’d see. The accusation in her eyes was there, along with anger and the pain of betrayal. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anything about this until yesterday afternoon.”

  “How could you?” Dany cried, her voice breaking. “How could you do this to me, Gib? You came here as a friend, someone who I…who I care about!” Angrily, she pointed to the file. “And now you bring me this outrageous, ridiculous proposal?”

  Slowly, Gib stood. He opened his hands toward her. “Look, I know you’re upset and angry, Dany, but I had no idea when we met that I’d be coming here in this capacity. Please, you’ve got to believe me.”

  Dany moved away. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back. “I feel used, Gib,” she rasped. “Betrayed—by you.”

  Hurt jagged through Gib and on its heels, anger. How frail and close to shattering Dany looked. “Look, there’s more to this than you realize,” he continued, hating every word. “You have to sell. You don’t have a choice. I asked Colonel Parsons, and he said that if you didn’t willingly sign over your land, Logistics and the Vietnamese government would somehow get the property away from you anyway.” He saw the color drain from her face. “I’m sorry, Dany. I wish—I wish I could do something to stop this, to turn back the clock.”

  “Wishes!” Dany spat, clenching her fists at her side. “All I wished for was a neutral peace for my people and my land. Is that too much to ask?” Her voice shook with real anger. “I was born in this house, and I’ll die here! I’m not selling and I’m not moving. Not ever.”

  Gib held onto his frustration. “Dany, if this was in my hands, if I could stop the military from taking your home, I would.”

  Blindly, Dany lashed out, slapping his face. The sound seemed to echo through the suddenly quiet room. Horrified at what she’d just done, Dany stepped back, pressing her hand to her mouth. Gib winced and stood there in the aftermath, a look of hurt in his eyes as he raised his hand to touch the reddening spot on his right cheek.

  “I guess I had that coming,” he muttered.

  With a cry, Dany moved forward.

  Gib stopped her. “No,” he rasped, “I’m okay.”

  “I—I’m sorry, Gib. I’m angry and—”

  “No,” he said roughly. Stepping away, he jabbed his finger toward the papers on the coffee table. “I’m sorry you can’t separate me from these damned orders, Dany. I didn’t want anything to do with this. I know what the land means to you. Read the documents, Dany. If you have any questions, contact me at the base. I’ll try and help you as much as I can.” Gib spun on his heel and stalked out of the house.

  As the screen door closed behind him, Dany stood shaking. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a sob caught in her throat. Sensing someone in the room, Dany looked up.

  Ma Ling stood at the entrance, her eyes sad.

  “You heard?” Dany rasped, her throat nearly closed with tears.

  “Yes.” Ma Ling came forward and put her arms around Dany.

  Giving Ma Ling a squeeze, Dany realized that her nanny needed her support. “I won’t give up the plantation,” she told her thickly.

  Patting her, Ma Ling stepped away, her dark eyes filled with compassion. “No one should be in this position.”

  With a small, explosive laugh, Dany looked around. “I hurt him terribly, Ma Ling. I didn’t mean to. I was just—” Her voice died in her throat. “I’m just so tired of fighting all these battles alone. When Gib told me, I lost control.” She pressed her hand to her brow. She needed to be alone, to think and feel her way through all of this.

  “I’ll be in my room for a while,” she whispered as she walked past Ma Ling.

  Once in her room, Dany collapsed on her large, canopied bed. The delicate mosquito netting was pulled aside, looking more like curtain than protection. Dany released a shaky sigh. She had no defense against this final, shattering decision thrust upon her by the military. She looked down at her bare, dirty feet, and thought idly that she needed a shower. Maybe it would help put things in perspective. Pain tugged at her heart as she remembered how she’d lashed out at Gib, using him as a whipping post for the wrongs brought to bear against her and the land she loved.

  Stepping out of the shower later, Dany patted herself dry with a thick pink cotton towel. After dressing in a fresh ao dai—the body hugging silk pants a deep apricot, the dress ivory—Dany felt a little better. But not much. Her battered heart swung from sheer fear of losing her home to guilt at the terrible way she’d treated Gib.

  She descended the stairs in the quiet house, and entered the room that held all the pictures of her parents. For long minutes, she studied each of the photos, as if her answer might be there. Suddenly chilly, Dany rubbed her hands over her arms. Her parents had never been there for her—ever, she realized with finality. Yet Gib had been there in so many ways—both small and important ways—since she’d met him. He’d saved her life, stopping her from approaching the blazing Renault that had held her dead mother. Then he’d offered emotional support after the funeral, despite the fact he was the investigating officer. When he’d learned that his uniform could potentially destroy the plantation’s neutrality, he’d come in civilian clothes.

  Drawing in a painful breath, Dany stood thinking. It was Gib who had saved Vinh’s life, too. He hadn’t had to call in a military medevac to take Vinh to Da Nang. And most of all, there was the gentle and sensitive way he had dealt with Vinh after the injury. Closing her eyes, Dany realized how much of a fool she’d been. Gib’s loyalty to her was unquestionable. How could she ever have felt betrayed by him? Gib hadn’t betrayed her, the Marine Corps had.

  Tears flooded her eyes. Her world was shredding apart, piece by piece. Every day she lost something else of value, something she loved. Hurting for herself, and because she’d wounded Gib with her misplaced anger and frustration, Dany knew she had to see him. The way he’d kissed her, the way they’d come together, couldn’t be erased—couldn’t be ignored.

  Reaching over, she slung the straw purse over her shoulder. Evening had fallen as she left the house and walked to the white Citroën. She might not be able to control what happened to her home, Dany thought, but it was within her control to at least apologize in person to Gib. That was something she could change. There was so much she wanted to say to him, share with him. Was it too late? Would he even see her, much less forgive her? She would call Marble Mountain security, and get permission to go on board to see Gib under the pretense of official business.

  *

  Gib sat in his tent, working on a new batch of requisitions to order spare parts for his helicopter squadron. His head jerked up as a light knock sounded at the door. It was 2000, dark, and he couldn’t see who it was. Frowning, he moved from the desk, his boots thudding hollowly on the plywood floor. When he opened the door, his eyes narrowed.r />
  “Dany.” He saw the terrible uncertainty in her eyes, in every tense line of her body.

  “I—Gib, I had to see you. I need to apologize for what I said—did—to you today.”

  The terrible weariness flew from him. “Shh, honey, apology isn’t necessary,” he reassured her. “Your home, your way of life is threatened. If I was in your shoes, I’d probably barricade the place up and hold them off at gunpoint.”

  Dany stood there, stunned once again by Gib’s understanding.

  He smiled slightly—a smile filled with exhaustion. “Come in. I’m afraid all I can offer you is a cup of powdered coffee from an aluminum mug.”

  She gripped the straw purse, her heart beating triple time. “I—I’d like that.”

  Just watching Dany glide into his tent was like getting his first breath of air after a long period of suffocation. Gib closed the door quietly behind her and brought his chair out from behind his desk for her to sit on. He could see how tense she was.

  “Relax,” he coaxed, “I don’t bite, contrary to popular opinion. You still want that coffee?”

  Dany sat down and looked up into his harsh, shadowed features—at first glance a warrior’s mask. But when she clung to his gaze, she saw nothing but warmth and felt his intense protection embracing her. “I—no, not really. My stomach’s tied in knots.”

  Gib sat down on the cot opposite her. He folded his hands between his legs, his elbows resting on his thighs. Trying to give her a smile that would ease her nervousness, Gib drawled, “Yeah, mine’s been feeling like there’s a war being waged in there.”

  “Since our fight?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled more deeply. “You look a hell of a lot better for our argument than I do.” In fact, Dany looked breathtakingly beautiful, he thought, the ivory and apricot colors she wore bringing out the flushed rosiness of her cheeks. Her fingers continued to work nervously at her straw purse.

  Dany felt the shame well up in her under his kind gaze. “I’ve never hit anyone before in my whole life, Gib,” she quavered. “I’m sorry. Just because the messenger brings bad news doesn’t mean he should be punished for it.”

  “No one has ever tried taking your home away from you, either,” he reminded her gently.

  She held his understanding gaze. “I don’t believe you’re involved in this scheme to steal my land. I have no reason not to trust you.”

  Relief, sweet and hot, coursed through Gib. “Thank God,” he rasped. “Honey, I tried to fight city hall on this. My colonel would merely have given the assignment to another officer if I refused it.” Wryly, he held her surprised expression. “I didn’t want that to happen, Dany, so I told him I’d take it.”

  “I didn’t know,” Dany whispered.

  “We really didn’t get past first base with one another on the details Dany.” With a shrug, Gib added gently, “Hell, I would’ve been just as mad.” He smiled into her huge, tear-filled eyes.

  “I forgave you already, Dany. Now, forgive yourself and let’s talk about some things I’ve had a chance to look at a little more closely since this afternoon.”

  Dany nodded. It was all she could do not to get up and throw her arms around Gib’s broad shoulders. He forgave her—already. “I’ve been such a fool—about so many things.”

  “Never a fool,” Gib said huskily. “Just a woman who’s fighting to hold on to what she loves.”

  Dany fumbled in her purse for the file Gib had given her earlier. “You said they’d take my plantation even if I didn’t agree to sell it to them?”

  With a nod, Gib said, “I tried talking to General Hunter down in Saigon late this afternoon to find out if he wouldn’t be happy with a bordering piece of property, but he said the plan was already in motion and couldn’t be changed.”

  Her heart fell as she studied the legal forms in her trembling hands. “But how could they force me?” she asked, then muttered, “Never mind, I know how. They’ll bribe the Vietnamese officials to cancel the property deed in my name, transfer it to the government, then sell the land to your government.” Bitterly, she added, “I know how they work, the bastards.”

  Gib couldn’t recall ever feeling so helpless, even when his helicopter was being shot at by ground fire. “Maybe we can find a way for you to keep your home.”

  Dany gasped. How could she ever have doubted Gib’s loyalty to her? She trusted him now—with her life, if necessary. “How?”

  “What if you hired an attorney from Saigon to fight your case?”

  She grimaced. “Any lawyer in Vietnam can be bought, Gib. I’d have to have a sizeable amount to bribe not only him but the court system to find in my favor, too. I’m sure your government could more than match any amount I gave these men.”

  Unhappily, Gib saw her point. “What about the French embassy? What if you went and talked to those officials? You’re a French citizen.”

  Dany leaned back, her mind and heart in utter chaos. “I don’t know. I’ve been so upset at hurting you, I haven’t really thought about those kinds of things.”

  Gib straightened. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe,” Dany conceded softly, thinking about Gib’s idea. “I’d have to get an appointment with the French embassy and fly down to Saigon.”

  “Then call and make that appointment, Dany.”

  She gave him a pained look. “My world’s caving in around me, Gib. I’m having a hard time separating truth from lies.”

  Gib leaned forward. “Honey, you and I have something special, something that not even the war can touch.” He held her shimmering gaze. In a soft, strained tone he said, “Let me prove myself to you by my actions. Fair enough?”

  His touch was galvanizing, and it steadied her tautly strung nerves. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  With a twist of his mouth, Gib said, “How would you like to fly down to Saigon with me? I can get a C-130 scheduled from here to take us down. If I tell Colonel Parsons you want to talk further with General Hunter about your property, he’ll approve the flight. Maybe if you get Hunter to realize you were born here, realize what this land means to you, he’ll rescind the order.” Gib shrugged. “And if he won’t, we still have the option of going to the French embassy and asking them for help.” Gib ached to hold her again, to kiss away the hurt reflected in the line of her lips, but he stopped himself.

  Dany nodded her agreement.

  “Good,” he whispered. “Let me get things set in motion. I’ll call you as soon as I get the colonel’s approval. I’ll tentatively set up a flight for day after tomorrow.” He held her gaze, now filled with genuine hope. In a whisper he said, “That’s another thing I like about you, Dany—you never give up.”

  She shook her head and looked down at the file in her hands. “How can I give up part of me, Gib? I don’t have any choice but to fight.”

  “Well,” he said, rising, “you’ve got me at your side. We’ll fight this together.”

  Rallying, Dany said, “Through thick and thin?”

  “Yeah, honey. Through thick and thin.” A wild, keening ache filled Gib. Staring down at Dany’s drawn features, he realized just how much the information had exhausted her. “You’d better get going,” he said gently. “It’s been a hell of a day for you. I’ll be in touch.”

  *

  Ma Ling was with Dany in the drawing room the next morning when Gib’s call came. Dany turned to her nanny after she’d finished speaking to him. Taking Ma Ling’s thin but strong hand, she said, “It’s set. Tomorrow morning Gib wants me to drive over to Marble Mountain and meet him. The C-130 pilot will fly us down to Saigon.”

  “This is a two-day trip, my daughter.” Ma Ling tilted her small, gray head. “We must sit and talk.”

  Wearily, Dany nodded and took a seat next to Ma Ling on the blue silk couch. It struck her how different her foster mother was in comparison to her real mother. Ma Ling seemed to know that she needed to be touched and reassured, to have her hand held. Amy Lou had never reached out or hugged D
any when she’d needed it the most. Now Ma Ling’s expressive brown eyes searched hers in the gathering silence.

  “We must talk of this man, Gib Ramsey. Since you have met him, I have never seen you happier—or sadder. He touches your heart, my daughter?”

  Dany closed her eyes and took an unsteady breath. “Yes, he does.”

  “And what of this business of wanting our home? Do you feel he has tricked you?”

  Opening her eyes, Dany held Ma Ling’s tender gaze. Her nanny’s hands cupped her own, as if in silent support. “I don’t want to believe Gib set me up. When I look in his eyes, I don’t see trickery or deceit. I never have, since I met him.”

  “What do you see then?”

  She smiled painfully. “Care. Concern…”

  “Love?”

  Dany sat very still beneath Ma Ling’s patient inspection. “I—I don’t know,” she said, stumbling over the words. “I haven’t known Gib that long. It’s too soon to tell.”

  “He’s an American, a man of war. He’s someone who will leave and go home to America.”

  “Believe me,” Dany said in a trembling voice, “I know that.”

  “And yet, you open your arms, your heart to him?”

  She nodded and chewed on her lower lip. “I’m afraid to call it love for all those reasons, Ma Ling. There’s just this feeling I have that Gib’s loyal to me. Last night he promised to stand by me no matter what happens. I believe him. My head screams at me he’s like every other GI I’ve seen over here. When his tour’s up, he’ll leave me—leave my heart, my feelings for him behind, as if they really didn’t count, after all.”

  Patting her hand gently, Ma Ling nodded. “Time is the wisdom of the heart, my daughter. Time will yield all the answers you need to decide about this man and his intentions.”

  “He’s like me,” Dany went on in a whisper. “He loves the land, and he’s family-oriented. He’s sensitive about my needs and doesn’t try and tear me down like other men have. He respects my way of life, what I want to do with it. Gib supports me.”

  “Your heart is open to him,” Ma Ling said, worry wrinkling her brow. “For so long you have been without a man to love you as you are. I wish he was Vietnamese, not an American GI. Maybe then things could work out.”