Her Last Defense (5 page)

She pulled her lips between her teeth and looked away again. Oh no, she didn’t agree with this policy. “They’re being told the macaque is rabid.”

“Rabid? Who made that decision, some yahoo in Washington?” He stopped his pacing right beside her and loomed over her. “Lady, this is huntin’ country. You tell people there’s a rabid monkey running loose, every lovin’ one of them is going to grab their .22s and pile in their pickup trucks and go look for it. You want to keep them in their houses, you’ve got to warn them about the virus.”

“They’re afraid of starting a panic.”

“You think they’re not going to panic when they see a few hundred cops and military and whoever else descend on this area to search for your rabid monkey? You think they’re not going to get suspicious?”

“We’re being as discreet as possible.”

Disbelief made Clint’s shoulders droop. “Don’t tell me. There’s not going to be a search, either.”

She jerked her head to the side in one sharp motion. “Not a massive one like you describe. We’ve got a couple dozen CDC people and a special biohazard squad from Fort Hood coming in to set traps in the forest. If we’re lucky, we won’t have to find the macaque. He’ll find us.”

“That’s a mighty big ‘if.’” He couldn’t hold back the scowl that crawled across his forehead. “Christ, I’ve got to get out of here.” He had to warn people. He headed for the exit, but she stopped him.

“You’ll never make it. Security—”

He spun on his heel and loomed over her. “Screw security. Your agency is playing games with thousands of lives because you don’t want to admit that you lost a research monkey that could start an epidemic. It’s politics, not precaution, and you know it. You’re more worried about losing your federal funding than keeping the people here alive.”

She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “I—I told you. It’s not my decision. I’m a scientist. I don’t make policy.”

He wanted to grab her. Shake her. Instead he took a deliberate step back. Two deep breaths. Cool-hand Clint, always in control. “But you don’t agree with the policy, do you?”

A heartbeat passed. He saw panic scroll through her eyes, then resignation.

He wouldn’t make her say it out loud. Didn’t need to hear it when he saw the truth swirl in her coffee eyes.

“Then help me do something about it. Who are you working with on a state level?” Texans were more likely to care about Texans than any federal agencies. “The Department of Public Health? The Federal Emergency Management Agency? Who?”

“My director said he’d been in contact with the governor.”

The first ribbon of relief curled through Clint. “If the governor’s in on it, then you can bet he’s called in the Rangers.”

He waited for that to sink in.

“Will they be told the truth, at least?”

“As far as I know.”

“Then I need to call my office,” he said, forcing a soft urgency to his voice. “Let them know they’ve got a man inside.”

“I was given a direct order…”

“Damn it, do you want to stop this disaster from happening, or not?”

Her eyes glistened.

He held out his hand. “Then give me your phone.”

No response. But he could see her thinking about it.

“Or you could suddenly feel the need to get some fresh air. I could stay here, with my head tipped back until the bleeding stops. You wouldn’t be responsible if I were to find your communications gear and use it without your permission.”

Temper flared in her dark irises. “You think that little of me? That I have to hide behind deniability?”

He waited, his heart crashing in his chest, trying not to admire her forthrightness. Or the way her chest heaved beneath her sweater. “Does that mean you’re going to help me or not?”

She went to the table and dug through a canvas backpack, finally pulling out what looked like a clunky cell phone. She held it out, but didn’t quite put it in his hand. “If I’m going to disobey an order, I do it straight up. No excuses. No deniability. You have five minutes. Make your call.”

With that, she gave him the phone, slid on a face mask and a pair of latex gloves, slipped a set of booties over her shoes and walked out of the tent. As he watched her go, Clint couldn’t help but think that the spirit in
side that curvy little body was as enchanting as the rest of her.

And that he was in deep, deep trouble on a lot of levels.

“H
ayes, where the hell are you?” Texas Ranger Company G Captain “Bull” Matheson answered his cell phone on the fourth ring.

Even with a hundred miles between them, Bull’s tone made Clint wince. He was glad they weren’t face to face. When he was pissed off, Captain Matheson’s ice-blue stare had a way of making a man feel about as small as a midget’s boot heel, and he definitely sounded pissed off at the moment.

“I’ve been trying to call you all day. You were supposed to have been back at work yesterday.”

“It’s…kind of a long story, Cap.”

There was commotion in the background. Shouts. Hurried footsteps. Slamming doors and ringing phones. If Bull was in the office, it sounded like the place was
in chaos. “Well, wherever you are, get your ass back here now and bring your outdoor gear. Muster at Love Field in three hours. We’re backing up E Company in East Texas. We got a bad situation down there.”

“That’s an understatement,” Clint said quietly.

Bull paused to give an order to someone on his end of the line. “How the hell do you know? I just found out myself ten minutes ago.”

“I’m here already.”

Another pause, this one longer. Silent. “Where, exactly,” the captain said, enunciating carefully, “are you?”

“Ground zero. I saw the plane go down. Came out to see what I could do. Now I’m stuck in quarantine.”

“Damn it, Hayes…”

“I know, Cap.” Clint squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “I know.”

An awkward silence followed, broken only by mutual deep breaths. Clint figured the captain had no more idea what to say than he did. They both knew the possibilities. The Malaysian death toll from ARFIS had been big news for months.

“What’s the situation there?” Bull finally asked, his voice rougher than usual.

Clint opened his eyes, focused on the job at hand. “The camp is secure, for now. CDC brought in their own people, but I’m not sure these guys are going to be able to handle it if things get ugly.”

“All right.” Clint heard the captain’s measured footfalls, knew he was pacing. He always did when he was thinking. And when he was worried. “You’re my eyes
and ears in there. I want to know what’s happening. You have to keep things under control and you’re going to have to do it on your own. I’m not going to be able to send you any help.”

“I know. What’s going on outside?”

“The park has been cleared of hikers and campers, roads in and out are closed. National Guard is on alert and the governor has called out all seven Ranger companies—every damn Ranger in the state—to move into the area just in case.” He didn’t have to say just in case
what.

“Cap, you’ve got to convince the governor to order an evacuation.”

Bull swore. “Tried already. Don’t know what the hell the politicos are thinking, but the stand-down orders are coming from way up the chain. Somewhere in Washington, I think.”

“Washington doesn’t run the state of Texas. The governor can override them.”

“And end his political career doing it. He’s not going to take that chance without damn good reason.”

“The lives of his constituents aren’t reason enough?”

“That’s not what I meant, Hayes, and you know it. This thing is a jurisdictional nightmare. The CDC, FEMA, the Department of Public Health, the National Transportation Safety Board—they’re all arguing over who’s in charge. Even Homeland Security and the Department of Defense are involved. The governor can’t just go reversing their orders. If he were to be wrong, and an evacuee carried the virus to another county or state, this thing could be out of control in no time.”

Clint shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s already out of control, Bull. Way out of control.”

“Do what you can, Clint. You’ve got to keep a lid on things there.”

“I know.”

“I’ll want regular status reports from you.”

“I know that, too.”

The captain grunted an acknowledgement. Or maybe it was an order to someone on his end. Clint figured he’d accomplished his mission and started saying his goodbyes. He was ready to hang up, but the captain didn’t seem ready to break the connection.

“When this is over,” Bull said after a long, awkward pause, “I’m going to want to hear that long story about what you’re doing in East Texas responding to plane crashes when you were supposed to be at work in Dallas.”

“I hope I live to tell it, Bull.” Clint’s jaw hardened. “I hope I live to tell it.”

The captain blew out a breath. “Hayes, there’s a doctor there with you.”

“Attois.” The name rolled off his tongue a little too easily to suit him.

“According to the briefing I got from the governor, she knows everything there is to know about this bug.”

A wan smile curled across Clint’s lips. “Except how to kill it. Guess she forgot that little detail when she decided to bring it to the United States.”

“Don’t blame this mess on her. She didn’t fly that plane into the ground. I want you to stick with her, Clint. If this thing heats up, she’s the one they’re going
to turn to to stop it. I want to know what she knows. You get intel from her, you pass it on to me.” He grunted. “I’ll make sure the governor gets it, and we’ll see about that evacuation.”

Clint started to object to the order to stick to Macy Attois. But even as he opened his mouth, his body began to hum. Before he could stop it, the images of her dark eyes, fringed with heavy lashes, the curve of her jeans—and how she would look without them—stole into his mind.

He sighed. “Is that an order, Cap?”

“You got some problem with the doctor?”

“Problem? No, no problem,” Clint said dryly, thinking about the view he’d had of her backside as she’d stepped out of the tent. He hadn’t meant to notice the gentle roll of her hips when she walked.

Hadn’t meant to, but had. In a big way. Even with everything else on his mind. It didn’t make sense.

“Damn it, Clint. Don’t screw around with her.”

He slammed the door in his mind to the images of doing just that. “Don’t worry, Captain.”

He disconnected the call. Him and Dr. Attois?

Wasn’t going to happen. No way, no how.

He kept telling himself that, even as she walked back into the tent, fine eyebrows lifted in silent question, and he found himself incapable of tearing his gaze away from the soft spread of her chest against the folded air mattress and blankets she held in her arms.

“I pitched the ball,” he answered her unspoken question. “We’ll see if anybody catches it. Why the hell is that monkey still alive, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Maybe the cells he was injected with were mishandled, and he was never infected at all. Maybe the virus has mutated somehow.” Her brows furrowed, then lifted. “I do have some good news, though. The blood tests on the work crew were all negative.”

He blew out a breath. “Maybe there is a God.”

And maybe not, since Dr. Attois bent over to set her bedding down right in front of him. He made a retreat toward the door before he found himself staring at her backside the way he’d ogled her front.

“Let’s hope so.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “And let’s hope his favor holds out twelve more hours until you and I are in the clear.”

Even the sight of her rounded little rear end shining up at him couldn’t stop that statement from garnering his full attention. “What?”

Her hands stilled where she was busy spreading the mattress and blankets into a pallet. “We could have been exposed today. I mean, I’m sure we’ll be fine, but…. It’ll be morning before we’ll know for sure. In the meantime, it looks like you and I will be spending the night together.”

The Ranger didn’t say a word, but his stiff expression made Macy feel that he’d rather jump into a pool of leeches than spend the night with her.

Well, why shouldn’t he? Jennifer Lopez she was not. And there was the little matter of her being responsible for an epidemic that could kill thousands of his friends and neighbors.

Not to mention the Ranger himself.

Suddenly embarrassed, she turned away from him, moved across the tent and busied her hands at the instant coffeemaker that had seen more of the world than most diehard travelers. She filled the battered carafe from a gallon jug of water on the floor. “I’m sorry I can’t provide better accommodations, but the Ritz was all booked. There’s an air pump in the footlocker.”

She glanced over her shoulder without thinking about it, found him staring at her and shuddered.

How could a man’s expression be so inscrutable and his eyes so…penetrating? She’d never been good at hiding what she was feeling, but when the Ranger looked at her, she was sure he could read her every thought.

Given what she’d been thinking when she’d made up a bed for him, she found the possibility distinctly uncomfortable.

He eyed the pallet, dragged a hand through his close-cropped hair and blew out a breath. “Guess it could be worse. I was assigned to a tent with Skip Hollister.”

A harsh laugh burst out of her. “Glad to know I’m not
quite
the bottom of the roommate barrel.”

“He snores like a freight train.”

“How do you know I don’t?”

He eyed her up and down, bringing the blood up her neck. “Do you?”

“You won’t have to worry about it tonight.” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, the seriousness of their situation eating its way through her mind like slow poison. “I doubt I’ll be sleeping much.”

He didn’t ask why. Guess he didn’t have to.

Without a clue what to do next, she sat on the edge of her cot while he blew up his air mattress, then realized she still had the coffee carafe in her hand and got up to pour the water in the reservoir. Her nerves didn’t need the caffeine, but she didn’t know what else to do with herself. The Ranger finished inflating his bed about the same time the coffeemaker quit gurgling.

After he put the pump away, she handed him a cup and reached for another mug for herself. “I don’t have any sugar or cream.”

“Black is fine. Thanks.”

They both stared into their coffee in silence. The Ranger sipped, blew the steam off the cup and drank again.

She wrapped her fingers around the mug, absorbing its warmth. Time seemed to thicken. To pass the way molasses poured from a bottle. Painfully slowly. At this rate, morning would never come.

Macy sat on the edge of her cot again, fiddled with her cup. “So, what were you doing responding to a plane crash out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night? Seems like a strange place to find a Texas Ranger.”

He paced to the door of the tent, back. “We go where we’re needed.”

“Big crime wave in Hempaxe, Texas, population 384, is there?”

“I was…on leave. Staying at a cabin on Lake Farrell. Saw the plane go down.”

“Skip Hollister said he knew you when you were a boy. Did you grow up around here?”

He shook his head. “Just summers.”

“Where did you live the rest of the year?”

“You got a sudden desire to write my memoir?”

“Just trying to make conversation.”

He stared at her a moment, then shook his head. “Sorry. Cop habit, not giving out personal information. The cabin belonged to my grandpop. I visited for a couple of months in the summer, traveled all over the world repairing oil rigs with my dad the rest of the year.”

“You didn’t have a permanent home?”

“Just hotels and oil-field bunkhouses.”

Pity twisted through her chest like a corkscrew. She couldn’t imagine moving all the time. Not having a place to call home. A doorframe to notch the kids’ heights in as they grew.

She wanted to tell him she was sorry, comfort him somehow, but he neatly changed the subject before she had a chance.

“What about you?” he asked. “What did you do as a kid, besides play so far out in the bayou the gators couldn’t find you.”

She smiled as she remembered throwing that tidbit of her childhood over her shoulder at him as she’d marched off into the woods that afternoon. It was true, if a bit of an exaggeration.

“How does a girl from the bayou wind up as a virus hunter for the CDC?”

“What better place to learn about bugs than the bayou? The ones I play with now are just a lot smaller.” The warmth of the coffee spread through her chest
along with memories of happier days. “Truth is, there was a time when I wanted nothing more than to hang out my shingle as a family doctor in some small town where I could make a difference.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Sometimes fate has other plans for us.”

And sometimes we’re too afraid to poke our heads out of our shells and see what fate has in store.

After a disastrous affair with a visiting surgeon who’d told her he loved her, but neglected to mention the wife and two kids waiting for him in California during her second-year residency, Macy had found the solitary world of viral research science comforting. Unlike people, viruses were predictable. They could be studied. Understood. The laboratory environment, with its bulky suits and airtight work chamber provided her some necessary emotional distance from her coworkers.

Even her relationship with David had been cool. Sterile. He had appreciated her for her mind. She liked his ambition. If there wasn’t much chemistry between them, there was at least safety.

She’d thought safety was enough, until recently when she’d found herself awake until all hours, reading steamy romance novels and crying over old Bogart and Bacall movies.

Like a tulip bulb that had lain dormant in the frozen ground until spring, she found herself slowly coming to life. Reaching for the sun. Warmth.

She needed heat in her life. Passion. Laughter and tears. So she’d broken off her engagement to David. And
now he was dead, and here she was with the Ranger, the wrong kind of man for her in the wrong place at the wrong time…and all she could think was she wished he would put his arms around her. Just hold her for a moment.

Like that was going to happen.

Embarrassed to realize her eyes had filled with tears—and that the Ranger had reached down to wipe them away with his thumb—she swiped at her face with the sleeve of her sweater and sniffed. He pulled his hand back, his inscrutable expression unchanged, but the air between them had changed. Charged.