Commando (6 page)

“There are two more men who are seriously hurt,” she told him breathlessly. “Pai Jose is so tired. You’ll have to watch him, Jake. His hands aren’t as steady…”

He smiled tiredly down at her. “I’ll take care of this, darlin’. You go do whatever else needs to be done.”

Darlin’.
The endearment gave Shah sustenance and strength when she felt as if her knees were going to cave in beneath her. She lost herself momentarily in the warm gray of Jake’s gaze—that same feeling of powerful protection again embracing her. But this time she didn’t fight it or deny it. Absorbing Jake’s care, she felt like a plant welcoming sunlight onto its leaves for the first time. Then, forcing herself to snap out of the inexplicable magic that bound them, she stepped away from him.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she quavered.

He gave her a grim smile. “You’re the one I was worried about.”

Shah knew they didn’t have time to talk; there were too many wounded to be attended to. Turning away, she blinked back tears. Tears! Her emotions frayed and raw from the attack, Shah didn’t try to rationalize them away this time: they were tears of relief that Jake wasn’t dead. She headed toward the wall, where several of the less seriously wounded sat or stood, waiting patiently for treatment. A gamut of emotions smothered Shah, making her dizzy. How could Jake Randolph have come to mean so much to her in so short a time? He was the
enemy.

“S
hah, let me take you to your hut. You’re ready to keel over.”

The instant Jake’s hands curved around her slumped shoulders where she sat at a table in the hospital, Shah capitulated. The heat of the day was rising, and although all the windows were open to allow air to flow sluggishly through the long, rectangular area, the room was stifling. For an instant, she rested against his large, caring hands, but just for an instant. Straightening, she pulled away from the contact with him and got to her feet.

“I guess most of the emergencies are over,” she said wearily.

Jake put his hands on his hips and surveyed Shah intently. It was nearly noon, and help had arrived from another mission nearby. Five nuns were now caring for the wounded, but he knew that Shah would stay on to help unless someone made her take care of herself.

“For now,” he agreed quietly. Her hair, once loose, was now captured by a rubber band behind her head, the ebony strands drawn into a ponytail that almost reached her waist. He watched as Shah, with some difficulty, pulled the once-white surgical gown off her shoulders. Her golden eyes were dark with anguish.

“Here, I’ll take that. One of the Tucanos women is out back with a big black kettle, boiling the hell out of anything used for the surgeries.”

Shah forced a tired smile—one that she didn’t feel but felt Jake deserved. “Thanks. You sound so chipper—as if nothing had happened.” She looked up into his harsh features. Jake’s eyes were red-rimmed, as she was sure hers must be, and his mouth was a slash, holding back the unexpressed feelings she knew he carried.

Taking a huge risk, Jake reached over and settled his hand again on her shoulder. “I’ve been through this kind of thing a few times more than you have,” he said. “Come on, I’ll walk you down the hill to your hut.”

His hand was at once supportive and sheltering. Shah wanted to surrender to the powerful care that emanated from him like a beacon of light slicing through the darkest night. But she couldn’t; she didn’t dare. Long ago she’d learned that no matter how nurturing a man appeared outwardly, later he would change—withdraw that care and hurt her. Her spongy mind screamed at her to resist, but her instincts persuaded her to accept Jake’s attention, just this once. Without a word, she nodded and left the antiseptic smells of the ward behind.

The tropical sunlight lanced through the triple canopy of rain-forest trees, producing bright splotches on the otherwise shaded ground. Everywhere Shah looked, she saw distraught expressions on the Tucanos’s faces. Her heart ached for them, for their loss.

“How many died last night?” Jake asked. He forced himself to allow his hand to slide off Shah’s shoulder. Every fiber of his being screamed that she needed to be held, but, much as he wanted to draw Shah into the circle of his arms, Jake knew she’d fight him.

“Two. Thank the Great Spirit it wasn’t more,” she murmured tiredly. The once-swept path was littered with leaves, small branches that had fallen from overhead, and many impressions from bare feet.

“Pai Jose is sleeping,” Jake told her. Shah was weaving unsteadily, and he started to reach out, but forced his hand back to his side.

With a slight laugh, Shah said, “He ought to be! He’s seventy-two, but he has such strength for his age. I’m sure it’s his faith that gives him the grit to keep going when most people would have folded.”

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, constantly surveying the area. “He was something of a miracle himself last night and this morning. I didn’t know he was a doctor.”

“Well,” Shah said reluctantly, “he isn’t a medical doctor, but he’s been so isolated out here for the past fifty years that he’s had to learn more than just basic first aid.” She gazed wonderingly up at Jake. “And you. You never told me you were a paramedic.”

He flushed and avoided her admiring gaze. “All part of being a recon marine,” he assured her.

“Between you and Pai Jose, the people are going to be fine.” Shah walked carefully down the slope, dizzy from fatigue. Swallowing hard, she risked a look up at Jake. “This is all my fault,” she choked out softly. “I realize now it was Hernandez and his men who did this. It was a warning for me to leave or else.”

Grimly Jake pulled her to a halt. Without thinking, knowing she needed his touch, he swung her around to face him. Her golden eyes were filled with tears of self-incrimination. “Now look,” he said gruffly, grazing her cheek with his fingers, “this attack
wasn’t
your fault.” He tried to ignore the fact that her skin felt like the lush velvet of an orchid petal.

Jake’s brief touch sent Shah’s senses spinning. She stepped away from him, closed her eyes and inhaled a sudden breath of air. She heard the barely contained emotion in his rumbling tone, the raw feelings that lay just beneath it, and knew that he could shatter her defenses with the intimacy he’d automatically established with her.

Forcing her eyes open and swallowing her tears, Shah tried to resurrect the tough barricade she’d presented to him yesterday. “This
is
my fault!” she insisted. “I should have realized that Hernandez would come back. Sometimes I’m too stubborn, too blind.” She held her hand against her trembling lips. “I should have placed these people’s welfare ahead of my own ideology! They’re the ones who have suffered. What about the two men who are dead? Their families will never see them again, and I’m responsible for that!”

Jake winced inwardly at the logic of her words. He stepped forward, gripped her by the shoulders and gave her a tiny shake. “Listen,” he growled, “stop blaming yourself, Shah. You had no way of knowing Hernandez would do this.”

Shah tried to pull away, but Jake’s fingers tightened their grip. Her voice rose. “I’ve been here three months, and I knew all about Hernandez! Everyone said he was a killing bastard. Well, he is! The Indians never had a good word to say about him. I should have listened to them, Jake.” Sobbing, she tore out of his grip. She stumbled backward, off-balance, then caught herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she forced herself to look up into his grim features. “I should have listened,” she sobbed again, and spun away.

Jake stood there, angry and helpless, as Shah walked hurriedly down the path toward the carnage in the village below. He wanted to run after her, to grab her and hold her. That was what she needed right now—a quiet harbor in the terrible storm that surrounded her. His wife had taught him about the safety of an embrace early on in their marriage, and he’d never forgotten that wonderful facet of their relationship.

Kicking at sand with the toe of his boot, Jake decided to go on into the village anyway. He wanted to see if the six-year-old girl who had been in Shah’s arms yesterday was safe. He hadn’t seen her up at the hospital, so he figured she was fine, but he wanted to make sure. He knew that he needed sleep, too, but his nerves were taut and his senses were screamingly alert. Anyway, he wouldn’t put it past Hernandez to try another attack tonight. First, he’d check on the little tyke, then he’d grab a quick nap, and then he’d talk to the chief about preventing another surprise attack by Hernandez.

Frowning, Jake shoved his hands into his pockets. What he really wanted to do was go after Shah. But she needed sleep, and perhaps when she was more rested she would realize that this carnage wasn’t her fault. Throughout the dawn hours and into the morning, he’d watched her work tirelessly with the survivors at the hospital, always offering a kind word, a soft smile, her healing touch. He believed that her passion for protecting Mother Earth was just as fierce and genuine as her compassion for the people around her, and that was admirable. At first, Jake had been concerned that she might be one of those ecofanatics who couldn’t see beyond their own narrow views, but she’d proved that theory wrong. No, Shah Travers was a woman of incredible courage linked to a giving heart. That discovery did nothing but make Jake want to know her—to explore her, to chart the vast, hidden territory of her compassionate heart.

When Shah awoke, sunlight was slanting low through the western window. With a groan, she eased herself into a sitting position on the grass mat that served as her bed. She rubbed her eyes, which were puffy with sleep, and allowed the village sounds to filter into her awakening senses. She didn’t hear the usual sounds of children’s laughter, dogs barking and the singsong Tucanos language filling the air. Glancing at her watch, Shah was alarmed to discover it was nearly 4:00 p.m.

How could she have slept so long? Hurriedly she got to her knees and opened the trunk where she kept her toiletry items. Retrieving a pair of tan gabardine slacks and a white tank top, she rummaged around some more and found a pair of white cotton socks. Her hair was a tangled mass that desperately needed to be washed and combed. Forcing away her sleepiness, Shah got to her feet and pulled the cotton away from the door.

“You’re up.”

Shah jerked to a halt. Her eyes widened momentarily. Jake Randolph sat on a decomposing log not more than fifty feet from her hut.

“Jake…”

Jake smiled when he heard her use his first name, glad that the previous stiffness that had existed between them was no longer there. Perhaps it was because she had just awakened. Her features were softened, her lids half-open to reveal drowsy golden eyes. Disheveled, her hair mussed, Shah looked absolutely beautiful, in a natural sort of way.

“I figured I’d play bodyguard,” he said teasingly.

“I don’t need one,” Shah groused in return. She frowned and walked toward a small, makeshift shower enclosed by three sheets of plywood. A large piece of black plastic suspended above the shower caught and contained rainwater.

Jake got up and slowly followed her. He watched as she placed a yellow terry-cloth towel on a nearby tree branch and stepped behind the enclosure.

“How are you feeling?”

Shah stripped out of her smelly, damp clothes and tossed them outside the shower. “Like hell.”

“You don’t look like hell. Now me, that’s another thing.” He ruefully rubbed his prickly jaw, aware that he needed a shave.

Releasing the small clothespin from the tubular plastic shower head, Shah quickly wet her body and her hair. Just Jake’s nearness made her feel safer. Then all conversation ceased for the next fifteen minutes as she cleaned and scrubbed away the horror of the night before.

Jake sat down on another log and clasped his hands between his thighs. The muddy Amazon was so wide that it boggled his mind. If Americans could see this mighty river, they’d think the Mississippi was a stream in comparison. A grizzled smile touched his mouth. Oddly, he felt happier than he could recall feeling in a very long time. Maybe it was because of Shah.

Keying his hearing to Shah, who was showering behind his back, Jake continued to peruse the Amazon and its banks. There was tension in the air, thick enough to cut with a machete blade. The Tucanos were fearful, but Jake had helped to allay some of that fear by setting up a watch by guards who would switch every two hours tonight to prevent another surprise attack. The old chief had been grateful for Jake’s suggestions, and Jake was glad he could offer these gentle people a plan. Pai Jose, who had slept only a little, then come down to survey the needs of the village, was also grateful for Jake’s ideas. He’d backed Jake’s efforts enthusiastically, which had helped convince the Tucanos that it was the right way to protect themselves from Hernandez.

When he heard the shower shut off, Jake straightened. “Feel a little better?” he called over his shoulder.

Shah towel-dried her hair. “Yes, much better, thanks.” She pulled on the slacks and tank top. Hanging the towel on a branch, she emerged moments later, brush and comb in hand.

“I feel a hundred percent better,” she told Jake. He was sitting on the log that she usually sat on to pull on her socks and hiking boots. Shah sat down at the other end. The hungry look that suddenly gleamed in Jake’s eyes sent a tremor of fear rippling through her. He quickly looked away, and she felt heat flood her neck and face. With trembling hands, she quickly moved her thick, heavy hair across her shoulder and began to ease the snarls out of it with the brush.

Jake berated himself. He’d stared at Shah like a slavering wolf—and he’d seen the instant terror in her eyes. Cursing his own weakness, and upset at frightening her, Jake moodily stared at the Amazon’s quiet surface. He cast around for a safe topic of conversation, because the invisible tension had risen between them once again.

“Things have quieted down and more or less gotten back on track,” he said, giving her a quick glance. It was his undoing. Shah sat combing her thick, luxuriant hair, looking fresher and more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. She wore no makeup, yet her skin had a golden glow and her cheeks a heightened rosiness. He stared, mesmerized, as she combed her hair, the sunlight glancing off it, bringing out blue and black highlights. He swallowed convulsively and quickly looked away, his heart pounding like a freight train.

Shah saw surprise, tenderness and then desire in Jake’s eyes as he watched her comb her hair. She continued to ease the knots and snarls out, taming half her hair into a braid. Looking toward the village, she saw the Indians working to clean up the area where the five huts had been burned to the ground. A lump formed in her throat, and she tried to swallow it. This was all her fault.

“When I get done here, I’m going to leave,” she said shakily.

Jake’s head snapped up, and he turned, disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

Shah eyed him grimly. “Hernandez wants me out of here. It’s obvious now that he’ll do anything to accomplish his goal. I’ll leave so that these people can get on with their lives. I’ve caused them enough pain.”

Jake held her level gaze and saw that her mouth was set in stubborn determination. “Where will you go?” He knew enough about Shah already to recognize that arguing with her was a useless exercise.

With a sigh, Shah tied off a braid with a rubber band. “I’m going to take my canoe and load it with my video camera and tapes.” She pointed down the Amazon. “Hernandez’s parcel is three miles down the river. I intend to go down there, set up camp and begin secretly filming his operation.”