For All Their Lives

by Fern Michaels

  It was a day neither of them would ever forget.

  The sun was setting, and the USO show was over, when Casey and Mac handed over their fire tongs to the next shift. Hand in hand they walked down to the water’s edge. Off in the distance the sounds of war, which, up till now, had been subdued, with nothing more than an occasional mortar burst from the south, grew more fierce. They looked at one another, and by silent, mutual consent they headed back to Casey’s small hooch. She waved airily to Lily, who was about to start off on the one-legged sack race.

  “I love you,” Mac whispered huskily. “I have to tell you this now, because I don’t know when we’ll see each other again. I also want to make some kind of plan in case I get sent out of here before you do.” The crazy urge to tell her about baby Jenny almost choked him. He bit down on his lower lip, tasting his own blood. If he talked about it to Casey, she probably could figure out why he felt the way he did, but then she would know he was married, and he wasn’t ready to divulge that fact just yet.

  “I love you very much too,” Casey said. “That first day when we met and chased the fog, I knew then. I . . . I thought I was never going to see you again. And now this. Our time over here, even though we haven’t seen much of one another, has allowed me to love you even more. Our letters are all that have kept me going. But I am so fearful that one day I’ll be staring down at my patient and it will be you. I live with that fear, Mac.”

  He’d thought the same thing, wondering how she would react if it did happen.

  “Hey, look at me,” he said, tilting her chin up. “That isn’t going to happen.” He said it with more confidence than he felt. “Tell the truth,” he teased, “I’m invincible. I pulled this off, didn’t I?”

  “You certainly did. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop worrying.”

  Mac laughed. “This is probably the first time in my life anyone has really worried about me.” Sadie didn’t count. Sadie worried when it rained and he didn’t have his fishing boots on. Alice didn’t count at all. She hadn’t appeared even once the time he’d been hospitalized after a car crash, giving the excuse hospitals made her sick.

  “Okay, you can worry about me. So, this is where you live, huh?”

  “For another day at least. The bed is soft and dry,” she teased.

  “Uh-huh,” Mac said, the ring of heat around his neck expanding. His ears felt incredibly warm. He felt himself stiffen, a condition he’d been experiencing all day long. It was so unbearable, it was difficult to walk.

  They were inside Casey’s hooch, each shedding their clothing as if by some silent command. Eyes as blue and hot as the Asian sun stared directly into his own, and what he read there sent his pulses throbbing, echoing through him. A sound escaped his lips, a groan, a plea, as he brought her close against him, crushing his mouth to hers, tasting her, feeling her lips yield to his. When he broke away, he saw the flush in her cheeks, the way her lips parted, lifting once again for his kiss.

  Mac brought her closer, aware of the sea’s scent in her hair. Her skin smelled like a sunshiny day, and the delicious womanly scent that was hers alone. He felt her arms wrap around his neck, tighter, pulling him down with her to the bed. She was seducing him. He thought he would choke on his own desire. A rich sound of pleasure bubbled from his mouth.

  Something inside him wanted to rebel, some part of his manhood and his pride. He wanted to be the aggressor, he wanted to be the one to show her how it could be between a man and a woman.

  She lay in his arms, fragile as the first flower of spring. He buried his face in her hair, reveling in the softness and the feeling it evoked in him. He drew back, gazing at her in the dim light of the room. All of his pent-up yearnings, feelings he hadn’t realized existed until this day, rose to the surface as he slid down beside her. Her skin was golden as honey, soft as satin. Exhilaration coursed through him.

  Once again his lips clung to hers, and Casey’s head spun as she felt her body come to life beneath his touch. He was gentle, his hands unhurried, as he intimately explored her. His mouth moved against hers, and her senses reeled as she strained against him, trying to be closer to him, trying to make them one.

  With infinite tenderness Mac loved her. He put a guarded check on his growing feverishness, waiting for her, patiently arousing her until her passion was as demanding and as greedy as his own.

  His hands seared her flesh as they traveled the length of her, stopping to caress a taut breast, a yielding, welcoming thigh.

  His lips left the sweet moistness of her mouth to find the tender place where her throat pulsed and curved into her shoulder. Down, down, his mouth traveled, turning her in his arms, finding and teasing places that brought consummate pleasure and sent waves of desire through her veins. The tawny luster of her breasts beckoned him, their pink, rosy crests standing erect and tempting. Her slim waist was a perfect fit for his hands, her firm haunches accommodating the pleasure of his thigh. He placed a long, sensual kiss on the golden triangle her nudity offered, and Casey gave herself in panting surrender.

  The strains of “When I’m Sixty-Four” drifted through the hooch as Mac’s lips touched her everywhere, satisfying his thirst for her, a thirst that was deep and raw. The intricate details of her body intoxicated him with their perfection. The supple curve of her thigh, the flatness of her belly, the dimples in her haunches, the lightly muscled length of her legs. But it was always to the warm shadows between her breasts that he returned, imagining that they beckoned him in silent, provocative appeal.

  Casey’s body cried out to him. She offered herself completely to his seeking hands and lips. And Mac, sensing her passion, furthered her advances, hungry for those secret places that held such fascination for him. He indulged in her lusty passion, which met and equaled his own.

  Beneath his touch her skin glistened with a sheen of desire. She slid her hands down the flat of his belly, eager to know him and satisfy her yearning need. She strove to learn every detail of his flesh, touching his rippling, muscular smoothness, feeling the strength beneath. She kissed the hollow near the base of his throat, tasting the saltiness left by the China Sea. And when she cried his name, it tore from her throat, painful and husky, demanding he put an end to her torment and satisfy the craving he had instilled in her.

  As if on cue, the galaxy of early stars overhead became one world, fused together by the white-hot heat they created. Together they spun out beyond the moon, reveling in the beauty each brought the other, seeing in each other a small part of themselves. One golden-haired spirit, one dark, came together in their passion, creating an aura of sunlight in the dark, endless night.

  They slept to the strains of “When I’m Sixty-Four” and woke an hour later to the same strains. They smiled at one another. “Oh, Mac, I love you so,” Casey whispered.

  Mac tickled her chin. “I love you more,” he said huskily. Once again he buried his face in her hair when a picture of a pink-cheeked, dark-haired cherub invaded his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut so the vision would vanish.

  Casey stirred in his arms. With the starlight spilling through the open windows, he realized just how beautiful she was. Her hair gleamed with silver that belonged to the stars alone, her skin smooth and glowing, softer and sleeker than silk. At his touch on her cheek she leaned her face into his hand, eyes closing, lips parting. Wordlessly he smoothed the golden curls, feeling the satiny strands between his fingers, thinking that her hair was like the moon itself, shining and sleek.

  When she turned to him, it was to offer her lips to him, clinging softly with arms wrapped tightly around his middle, pressing herself against him. Her appetite for their lovemaking was as intense as his, and that knowledge heightened his desire for her. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever known: soft and lovely one moment, then softer still, but always beautiful.

  Casey’s emotions found an answering response in Mac as his mouth sought hers hungrily, desperate to satisfy his need for her. Their hands reached for one another, sof
tly touching, rediscovering each sweet caress.

  He kissed her neck, tasting the perfumed skin of her earlobe, the gently curving softness of the arch of her throat, that hollow between her breasts which constantly beckoned him. The intricacies of her, the delightful difference invisible to the naked eye, which made her different from all other women. His lips lingered, taking and giving pleasure.

  Casey’s hands found the smoothness of his back, luxuriating in his warmth and solid physique. Her mouth tenderly nipped at the place where his muscular shoulder yielded to his neck, and she was aware of the quiver of delight that rippled through him.

  Mac moved away from her, and when they touched again, his hands slid down her body, adoring her, lifting her into a realm of passion and desire known only to lovers.

  His arms circled her, drawing her tightly against him, reveling in the length of her body pressed against his.

  Her hands were woven in his hair, pulling it back from his forehead as she kissed him, opening her lips, begging him to enter. Straining against him, her body rose and fell rhythmically, desperately seeking to fill this sudden need that throbbed within her.

  Seizing his shoulders, she pressed him backward against the bed. His breathing came in short, rapid rasps, and when she leaned over him, pressing the fullness of her breasts against the fine furring of hairs on his chest, she heard him emit a low, deep growl of pleasure.

  Beneath her fingers his skin glistened with a sheen of perspiration, and the long, hard length of him heightened her lusty appetite. Learning her lessons well, taught by him, she tasted every detail of his body, luxuriating in the rippling muscular hardness of him.

  Her legs tangled with his as she held herself above him, melting herself to him, rubbing against him, bringing him to the height of his desires. The contact between their bodies was as smooth as satin. She crushed his face into the firm plenitude of her breasts, giving, wanting to give . . . only to give. In giving, she was receiving and being filled with a sense of power that she could evoke this emotion in this strong, rugged man. Bringing him pleasure, pleasuring herself.

  She felt his hardness throb between them. His eyes were upon her, delving the darkness, perceiving her with more than his eyes. She was a goddess, golden and fair, bringing the warmth of the sun to his cold, hungry needs.

  She mounted him, and the flatness of her belly was hard against his, drawing the aches and the hunger from him. Her breasts were offered to his hands, her mouth as greedy as his own, and he knew there was more between them than finding a momentary respite from the urgency of passion. Love.

  IF THERE WAS one thing Mac didn’t want to do, it was dress and return to the Ho Chi Minh trail. If he had his choice, he would elect to stay here forever in this little hooch with Casey. He would handle the war and all that went with it. But it was a dream, and Vietnam was no place for dreams, only reality. He kissed Casey, a long, lingering, gentle kiss that spoke of many tomorrows, before he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

  “The team is moving to Chu Lai. It isn’t that far from Pleiku. We’ll manage. Trust me, Casey.”

  Casey nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. She was up and out of the bed, pulling on shorts and tee-shirt. She wanted every minute possible with Mac. She would walk him to the chopper, kiss him good-bye and not care who saw her.

  “They’re getting ready to set off the fireworks. I’ll miss them,” Mac said wistfully. “I knew I was going to miss them, but now that the time is here, I’d like to see them. My mother told me that when I was little she used to take me to see the display, but I don’t remember.”

  Casey linked her arm through his. “Look at it this way, Mac,” she said with a giggle in her voice, “we had our own fireworks.”

  Mac stopped in his tracks. He laughed until his eyes filled. “I’ll hold that thought.”

  “No, don’t,” Casey said in panic. “If you have our lovemaking on your mind, you won’t . . . you could get . . . please don’t,” she begged.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, chucking her under the chin. “I’ll only think about us when I go to sleep.”

  “Promise.” The worry and concern in Casey’s eyes tugged at Mac’s heart.

  “I promise. Hurry, Casey, I only have two minutes. We’ll have to run.”

  “I’m ready,” she said, pointing to her bare feet.

  They ran. The last strains of “When I’m Sixty-Four” and “Ruby Tuesday” ended. Mac’s face split into a broad grin when he heard the music to “Hail to the Chief.” He allowed himself one brief statement before he climbed aboard the chopper. Waving his straw hat, he yelled over the whirling rotors. “Men, on behalf of the President of the United States, I accept your gratitude. Carry on!” he said, saluting smartly. He pretended to catch a kiss Casey blew him. A minute later he was circling overhead. Casey sucked in her breath in awe when she saw the American flag light the sky. She clapped wildly, as did everyone on the beach.

  Suddenly Lily was next to her, her eyes as starry as Casey’s. Casey winked and Lily giggled.

  “Was today as wonderful for you as it was for me?” Casey asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Lily said dreamily. “We only had a few short hours. Eric left around five-thirty. I’ve been helping with the food. Everyone is so happy. Mac did a wonderful thing. The fireworks flag was a wonderful send-off, wasn’t it?”

  “The best,” Casey sighed. “How’s the food holding up? Is there anything I can do?”

  “Help clean up,” Lily said, wrinkling her nose. “There’s a little of everything left for any stragglers coming in. When the sun was going down we had over two hundred marines, and not a bit of trouble, if you can believe that. If it wasn’t for the pilots we couldn’t have done it. Come on, time to get back to work.”

  “Yes, it’s time. Life goes on, doesn’t it? Oh, Lily, I wish I could stop time and just en—no, I don’t wish that at all. What I want is for us all to stay safe so we can get on with our lives.”

  “We all wish the same thing,” Lily said, hugging her friend. “How about a hot dog and some toasted marshmallows? My treat.”

  “I’d be a fool to turn that down.” Casey smiled. Friends were so wonderful.

  THREE DAYS LATER Casey leaped from the medevac chopper into a soldier’s outstretched arms. The first person she saw was Luke Farrell, sitting on his haunches, staring at what looked like a small garden. “Luke! It’s me! I’m back!” Casey cried happily.

  “Where’s Lily?” Luke muttered.

  Casey frowned. She’d expected him to grin and throw his arms about her.

  “She . . . she’s in Saigon. It was either Saigon or Da Nang. Her parents are in the city, so she elected to stay in Saigon. I thought you’d be happy to see me,” she said in an accusing tone. “If you’re angry because I didn’t say good-bye, there wasn’t time. I told Captain Hagen . . . we spoke at the picnic, Luke. I explained all that. Is something wrong?”

  Hell yes, there was something wrong. He’d seen her with Mac. Carlin at the picnic; his eyes had followed them to her hooch. He’d eaten his hot dog and ear of corn and took off like a scalded cat. He should tell her how hurt he had been. He’d wanted to be the one to go into that hooch with her. He wanted to get up now, to take her in his arms and say, welcome back, but some perverse streak in him wouldn’t allow him to stick his neck out for further rejection. He stared at the greenery in front of him. “What could possibly be wrong?” he said sourly. “No pushes. Things are quiet. We only have six patients waiting to be transferred.” He poked viciously at a luscious green leaf, careful not to uproot it.

  “That’s a weed,” Casey said tartly. She felt angry and hurt. She’d given up a cushy job in Da Nang to come back here and work at his side, and all she was getting from him was a nasty attitude.

  “You can’t know that for sure,” Luke muttered. “You damn women think you know everything. It’s pretty.”

  “It’s still a weed. I know weeds. If you keep watering it, tomorrow it’ll be a foot high. Weeds
grow fast. You should have planted some flowers. Do you want me to help you?”

  “No, I don’t want you to help me,” Luke snapped. “It made me happy to think this might turn into a flower, and you come along and ruin the whole idea for me. That’s shitful, if you want my opinion.”

  “This isn’t about weeds and flowers at all, is it? Look, I had orders, I didn’t have a choice, I had to go to Da Nang. I’m back. I didn’t belong there. I didn’t want to be there. So I came back to where I’m needed. What do you want? Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg you to take me back? If that will get you over this . . . this . . . whatever it is you’re going through, I’ll do it. We’re such a good team, Luke. Now you’ve spoiled it all. Water your weeds, see if I care.”

  Casey stomped off, her shoulders stiff with anger. A few feet across the compound she realized Luke wasn’t following her. She thought he would quickly beg her forgiveness. Her shoulders slumped. She dropped her bag and walked back.

  “How about a beer, Luke? I’m buying.” It was her way of apologizing for whatever it was Luke thought she’d done wrong. She waited, holding her breath, for his response.

  “Only if you admit you lied about this gorgeous thing being a weed. Just look at it, for God’s sake. It’s like green velvet, all shimmery and soft. And look how the water beads up on the leaf. It looks like an upside-down umbrella. I requested flowers, but I guess it wasn’t a top priority. I liked those that you planted when you first arrived. I guess I was . . . I wanted things to be like they were before the picnic,” he blurted.

  “You can’t go back, Luke, only forward. You taught me that. Now, how about that beer?”

  “I missed you, Casey. I mean, I really missed you.”

  “And I missed you. God, I couldn’t wait to get back here. I thought I’d go out of my mind in Da Nang.” Casey stood on her toes and kissed Luke lightly on the lips.