She heard several more bullets strike the helo. He was trying for the engine!
Hurry! Hurry!
The helo rose above the treetops. Instantly, Kulani brought the bird around. They still weren’t safe, but now she had a fighting chance. The craft groaned because of the wind, the rain and the tremendous pull of gravity upon it. More bullets pinged beneath her feet. She cringed and tucked up into herself. A bullet could rip through her. The gusting of the wind continued. The bird trembled violently as an arc of lightning shot across the Kalalau Valley just in front of the aircraft’s nose.
Blinded momentarily, Kulani held the aircraft steady; then aimed it toward the sea. Rapidly now, it sped across the narrow expanse of the green valley. Ahead, she could see the blue-green waters of the Pacific. Her heart was pounding. She risked a look back. Dev lay unconscious on the floor, his hand wrapped around his bloody wound. The deck was red with his blood.
Her mind spun. Why was there so much blood? It didn’t make sense to Kulani. Panic ate at her. How fast would this aircraft go? Jerking a look at the gauges, Kulani kicked the aircraft into high gear, red-lining the powerful engines. The air-speed needle shot upward, and within moments they were cruising at over two hundred miles an hour.
The aircraft moved swiftly out of the rainstorm. Sunlight blinded her momentarily as she aimed the chopper over the middle of the island, heading straight for the green grass beside the Kukui Hospital, just outside Lihue Airport. Fortunately, she knew this island like the back of her hand. Kulani wasted no time on the radio or trying to find headphones. No, this was going to be a rough ride down to the hospital. Dev was bleeding to death.
He could die! No! I love him. He can’t die! Please, don’t let him die. I lost one man I loved. I can’t lose another!
Tears blinded her. Kulani fought them back. Below her, she saw the pale yellow, stucco walls of Kukui Hospital. Moving her feet and hands rapidly, Kulani brought the helicopter in fast and low. She was breaking every FAA flight rule in the book. But a life was at stake and she didn’t care. At the last moment, Kulani wrenched back on the controls. The aircraft groaned from the sudden loss of forward speed. She knew that by lifting the helo’s nose high, the belly would provide a soft mattress of air to break the swift landing on the soft, green grass.
Kulani saw a number of white-coated people running toward her as she landed. Instantly, she cut the engines and leaped out of the seat. Fear weakened her knees. She staggered to the open door and violently motioned to two of the men who looked like paramedics, to hurry. The rotors were still spinning overhead and the wind buffeted them as they raced toward her.
Turning, Kulani fell to Dev’s side. She rolled him over on his back. He was unconscious. The wound on his arm was spurting bright red arterial blood. She placed her hand over the wound and held it as tightly as she could. When the first man arrived at the door, in his face questioning, she shouted above the roar, “He’s bleeding to death. I need to get him to ER. Now!”
Chapter Twelve
“How is he, Kulani?”
At first, Morgan Trayhern’s deep voice warmed Kulani as she sat in the lounge on the post-op floor of the hospital. Then she snapped her head up in surprise.
“Morgan!” Kulani rose unsteadily to her feet. She was still wearing her black nylon uniform, the front of her flak jacket open. She smelled of fear. The metallic odor of blood—Dev’s blood—curled around her nostrils as she tried to catch her balance.
Instantly, Morgan gripped her upper arm. “You okay?”
His touch was warm and firm. It reminded her a bit of Dev’s masculine grasp. “Uh, no…not really.” Kulani wasn’t going to try and hide anything from this man, her eyes drinking in the welcome sight of him. Morgan was dressed in a dark pinstripe suit, his paisley tie stark against the whiteness of his starched shirt. He always looked official, Kulani thought. Gazing up into his face which showed weariness and strain, she said, “Dev’s in surgery.”
“I know,” Morgan said gruffly. “Come on, sit back down.”
“Don’t say it,” Kulani joked weakly as she sat down on the plastic sofa with Morgan, “I know I look like hell.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I smell like it, too.” Earlier, she’d gone to the rest room and washed the camouflage greasepaint off her face and chin to clean up a little.
“I’m not going to complain,” he said as he unbuttoned the front of his business suit and slowly sat down close to her. “Dev’s been in surgery two hours now?”
She gave him a wary look. “Yes. You must have been monitoring us—and our problems?” That would explain how he’d gotten over here so quickly from the mainland.
He nodded and leaned back, his arm going back across the rear of the couch where she sat. “I was in California at the time we lost contact with you. Cappy called me and told me you were suddenly out of touch on both the cell phone and walkie-talkie. He heard gunfire. So he suspected the worst and made a call to me. I had the jet, so we just flew on over.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Morgan studied her exhausted features. He saw the anguish in Kulani’s darkened eyes. There were shadows beneath them, too. “I brought our emergency physician, Dr. Jennifer Logan. Just in case…At the time we lifted off, we still had no contact with you.”
“And you thought the worst?”
He sighed. “It was impossible not to. The last transmission we got from you, all we heard was the sound of rifles. And then we got the call from Cappy and he confirmed it.” He frowned and held her gaze. “Tell me what happened?”
Kulani dutifully gave Morgan a report. All the while, she kept her eyes on the bank of elevators. Dev was being operated on in the basement of the hospital, where all surgeries took place. The doctor who was working on him, Gail Derin, had assured her that as soon as she wrapped up her duties, she’d come up and let Kulani know how Dev was.
“Dev suffered two wounds, not one?” Morgan demanded.
She watched his peppered brows draw downward. “Yeah,” she said, her voice strained as she rested her elbows on her thighs. Numbing exhaustion stalked her. She desperately needed sleep. Her mind was rummy and wandering, focused only on Dev. “He’d gotten wounded in the forearm when the mercs hit us the first time. The professor deliberately struck him there when they were fighting in the back of the helo, and it started bleeding heavily. When the professor leaped out of the chopper, he ran for the trees. I was busy up front trying not to run the rotor blades into the jungle or the lava wall as we slowly ascended. When Valdemar started firing at me, it shattered the windshield on the left side of the aircraft. Then the professor started shooting at the helo’s engines. I guess that’s when Dev was hit again.” She rubbed her faced tiredly. As she dropped her hands, Kulani muttered, “When I turned him over after we landed, I saw the second wound in his thigh.”
“What kind of wound?”
“A bad one, Morgan. Dev’s femur was sticking out of his thigh.” Shivering, Kulani whispered, “He was bleeding like a stuck hog. I—I lost it then. I realized how seriously wounded he was. I didn’t want to lose him.” She turned her head away from Morgan’s eagle-like gaze. Her heart wrenched in her breast as she spoke the words she didn’t want to give life to.
“A fractured femur can have a lot of complications,” Morgan rasped. “I wonder if it tore his femoral artery?”
“I think so,” Kulani said as she slowly turned her attention back to Morgan. His mouth was pulled down at the corners. She knew he was upset about the turn of events. “I couldn’t understand why there was so much blood on the deck.” She lifted her hand, which still had remnants of dried blood on it. “He lost so much blood! If it weren’t for the two paramedics who met me at the helo, I don’t think he’d be alive now. They did a lot of fast thinking and applied pressure to stop most of the bleeding. All I could do was sit there on the steel deck and cry like a baby. I felt so helpless….”
Gently, Morgan put his arm around her drooping shoulders. “Hey,” he wh
ispered, his voice off-key, “you are one of the most courageous people I’ve ever known. You took an assignment that I shoved on you. You performed flawlessly, Kulani.” He tightened his grip around her shoulders and drew her against him. Kulani turned and fell into his awaiting arms, her head pressed against his chest. Morgan felt her struggle not to cry. “It’s all right,” he said roughly, his other arm going around her. “I should never have made you do this. I was wrong, Kulani. And I’m so damned sorry I did this to you….”
The first sob ripped out of her. It shook her entire body. All she could do was curl up tightly on the couch, in a fetal position, and allow Morgan to hold her with his massive strength and care. Her fingers dug convulsively into Morgan’s expensive white shirt. Tears splattered down across the material as she wrestled with her fear and grief.
“Go ahead and cry,” he whispered against her hair. “Cry for what I’ve done to you, and cry because you went through hell….” The fact that Dev had had to spring the news on her that Stephen had been murdered weighed heavily on his conscience, as well. He wanted to make amends as best he could, to take that shocking pain away from her, if possible.
Kulani couldn’t stop the flow of hot tears from her eyes. Morgan’s gruff care simply aided and abetted her need to let loose with all her fears. “I—I’m not crying for myself,” she sobbed, “I’m crying because I love Dev and I’m afraid I’m going to lose him….” More sobs wracked her as she pressed her face against Morgan’s solid chest.
Morgan shut his eyes and groaned. As he held Kulani and rocked her like a frightened child in his arms, he understood so much more. What kind of hell had he forced Kulani into? She hadn’t been over her grieving and loss of Stephen. Now, somehow, by some miracle, she had fallen in love with Dev. And then she was plunged into a life-and-death mission with him. How had she been able to fly the helicopter out of there with him on board? Morgan had seen the insides of the black helo, which was still parked near the hospital. He’d seen the blood smeared all over the deck. Dev Hunter’s blood. Kulani had had to deal with all of that, including her love for the man, and still fly that aircraft. A quiver ran through him as he gently ran his hand across Kulani’s shaking shoulders. Her sobs were soft and hurting. He felt like a first-class bastard. He’d made a terrible error in forcing Kulani into this mission. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to look out for his people, not do this to them. Why had he thought this mission would be good for her? Why did he think he could force her out of the quiet, half-mast life she’d been living since Stephen’s death? What right did he have to be judge and jury on how Kulani lived?
Morgan sat there a long time as Kulani released her feelings of terror, loss and grief. As she allowed her pain to move through her, he absorbed it and felt the white-hot heat of guilt twisting through him. Kulani was like a daughter to him. Because he loved her, he’d taken advantage of her, of the situation, he realized, and made judgments about her that he shouldn’t have.
“I guess,” he told her gruffly, “I used our love of you to force you into something that shouldn’t have been. I’m sorry, Kulani. Damn, I’m sorry to my soul. I should have told you about Stephen a long time ago, top secret info or not. I made a mistake with you. I’d do anything in the world to make it up to you—and Dev. Just tell me how I can help you.”
Lifting her head, Kulani eased out of his arms. With trembling fingers, she tried to wipe her face free of tears. Morgan handed her a white linen handkerchief. She thanked him, her voice raw and trembling. After mopping her face, she looked at the cloth in her hands. It was smeared with Dev’s blood, the mud from the jungle and her tears. She closed her fist over it, not wanting any more reminders. She felt Morgan’s steadying hand on her shoulder as she tried to take in a deep breath. Opening her eyes, her lashes still wet with tears, Kulani tried to smile at his grave countenance and failed.
“Oh, Morgan,” she whispered tremulously, “I don’t blame you for what happened. It’s okay. I forgive you. No one is perfect. I make a hundred mistakes a day. How can I be angry with you? We’re all flawed humans just stumbling around, making errors. What sets us apart is that we try to learn from our mistakes. If you learn from this one regarding Stephen, then I consider it over and done. If—if you hadn’t pushed me into this, I wouldn’t have met Dev.” She swallowed hard and twisted the handkerchief between her fingers. “The guy is wonderful…. I just sort of fell in love with him. I never thought I’d love again after Stephen…never….”
Morgan sat there, his heart aching with guilt. Kulani’s features were pale and strained. The usual softness was gone from her mouth, the corners pulled in with anguish. “It still doesn’t relieve me of my choices in this mission, Kulani.” He held her tearful stare. “I was wrong to manipulate you into taking the mission. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you?”
She reached out and slid her fingers into his large, scarred hand. “Nothing. You’ve done it already. You’re here. You held me when I needed a good cry on a strong shoulder. That’s enough.”
Just then, the elevator doors opened and a blond-haired woman in dark blue surgeon’s scrubs appeared. When she saw Kulani, she moved over to her immediately.
Kulani’s breath hitched. She tensed and stood up. “Dr. Derin?” The words were laced with fear. Anxiously, Kulani searched the older woman’s face. “Dev? How is he?”
Morgan stood and put his hand on Kulani’s shoulder. The doctor didn’t look happy.
Dr. Derin smiled briefly and reached out and gripped Kulani’s hand. “He’s one tough hombre, Ms. Dawson.” She looked at Morgan. “Are you part of Dev Hunter’s family?”
Morgan grinned a little. “You might say that, Doctor.” He introduced himself.
“How is Dev?” Kulani demanded breathlessly.
Dr. Derin’s smile widened. “Thanks to Dr. Logan’s help in surgery, he’s going to make it. As I said, he’s tough. He lost two pints of blood and that’s a lot. We managed to stabilize him with whole-blood transfusions during the surgery. The bullet wound in his arm was a piece of cake. He’s got muscle damage, but with time, that will heal. It’s his thigh that was the real problem. The femur was shattered by the bullet. It tore the artery in two. That’s why he lost as much blood as he did.” Dr. Derin gave Kulani a significant look. “If you hadn’t done what you did, landing that helicopter here, he wouldn’t be alive today.”
A shiver crawled up Kulani’s back. She felt Morgan’s hand tighten around her shoulders as she stood in the comfort of his embrace.
“So what does it mean?” she demanded.
Dr. Derin looked at Morgan. “If you’re expecting Mr. Hunter back to work soon, it won’t happen. I had to place metal pins into the bone to reset his femur. He’s got a long recuperation ahead of him, and he’s going to need a lot of physiotherapy to get back on his feet. We’re looking at a year off here, Mr. Trayhern.”
“He’s got it,” Morgan replied. And he glanced down at Kulani. “Dev will need a place to stay. You want me to rent him a condominium here on Kauai?”
Kulani saw humor lurking in Morgan’s eyes. She understood all too clearly what he was hinting. “No…no, Dev can stay at my bungalow. I’ve got a second bedroom. We can manage there, I think.”
Morgan’s mouth pulled into a smile. “I think you can. With your help and love, my bet is he’ll be back on his feet in half the time.”
Dr. Derin made a sound of protest. “He might cut off a couple of months of rehab, Mr. Trayhern, but he’s going to need help for a long while.”
“I’ll be there for him, Doctor,” Kulani whispered, joy avalanching through her. Dev was going to live! He was going to be staying here, on Kauai, to mend—with her. She felt trepidation. “Well…I mean, if Dev wants to stay with me.” She glanced at Morgan. “I’ll ask him.”
“By all means, do.” Morgan looked toward the opening elevator doors. “And Shep, his oldest brother, has just arrived. Have you met him yet, Kulani?”
Kulani’s gaze went to
the bank of elevators. There, standing tensely, was a very tall, powerfully built man in a pair of jeans, a short-sleeved, cranberry-colored shirt and roughout boots. There was nothing soft about this man. Kulani knew of Shep Hunter; his legend had more than preceded him. He had the craggy face of the Rocky Mountains he’d been born in, his body strong and seemingly impervious to anything life might throw at him. She remembered Dev speaking glowingly of Shep, almost as if in awe. Among the Perseus employees, he was known as a rebel with a cause. He was a linchpin mercenary, one who took top event assignments no one in his right mind would even think of taking, because the danger of dying far exceeded the chances of surviving.
Yet, as she gazed at his grim-looking expression, at those narrowed, icy blue eyes, Kulani saw the family resemblance between him and Dev. And Dev was right when he called himself the good-looking one of the bunch.
Her lips parted and the corners of her mouth lifted, “Shep? I’m glad you’re here.” Kulani moved forward, her hand extended toward him. The tall mercenary stood with his arms across his chest, studying her from beneath those black, thick brows of his. There was no hint of humanity in his face. None at all. Yet, through her exhaustion, Kulani felt Shep’s worry for his younger brother—the man she loved.
Shep uncrossed his arms and gripped her hand. “From what I understand, I have you to thank for Dev’s life.”
His voice was deep and reminded Kulani of the thunder rolling across the valleys of the Na Pali Coast. It was obvious he had to monitor the strength of his fingers upon hers. There was such lethal, tightly wound power in this man. Kulani met and held his frosty gaze. “We got lucky, Shep.”
Dr. Derin moved toward them. “Ms. Dawson? Dev’s in recovery right now. If all goes well, we’ll have him up here on the post-op floor, room 6, in about an hour. I want only one visitor to see him at that time. And I have a feeling it should be you, Kulani.” She looked at Morgan and Shep. “You two gentlemen will have to wait a bit.”
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