Morgan's Wife (27 page)

"You've done all you can," Ann Parsons said wearily, touching his sagging shoulder.

Jim stirred. He straightened a little in the chair and removed his hand from Laura's. Parsons' touch reminded him how exhausted he was. His gaze had never left Laura, who was finally breathing on her own again. The two doctors had battled nearly fifteen minutes to get her heart started.

"I'd rather stay, Doctor."

Ann shook her head. "There's nothing else to be done. We have her on an IV, Colonel. Her heart is working well. Dr. Thompson and I will watch her like hawks, believe me. You need to rest. You look like you're about to fall down."

Wasn't that the truth? "Will she stop breathing again?" he asked.

"I hope not. But we have no way of knowing how much of whatever drug was shot into her. The ship has a small lab, and they're testing her blood right now. I'll know more shortly."

Anger surged through Jim, despite his exhaustion. "I don't know how she managed to get up and dress herself." He searched the doctor's blue eyes.

"I don't, either. Sometimes when your life is in danger, you can override a drug reaction for a while. Laura did. She wanted to escape, to live." Ann shook her head and rubbed her brow. "There are at least five needle tracks in her arms. Garcia must have had her on drugs from the time he captured her."

Jim clenched his fists. Laura still looked wan, but her skin was no longer gray. Even her hair looked washed out beneath the fluorescent lights of the sick bay. Dr. Thompson, a Coast Guard physician in his late thirties, tended Laura, ever watchful. Jim turned his attention back to Ann.

"Thanks for saving her life, Doctor. I'm glad as hell you were out there to meet us."

She nodded. "You weren't too shabby in the clutch, either, Colonel. Come on, I'll show you to your quarters. They're right next to the ones Pepper was assigned, on Deck Two."

Pepper.
Jim halted. He scowled and followed the doctor out of sick bay and down a series of passageways that led to a stairway that would take them topside.

"Does anyone know how she is?" he asked as they climbed the stairs. The ship was rolling fairly heavily now, and he had to grip both railings.

"No. I think I'll check on her," Ann said as they made it to the second deck.

Jim glanced out the hatchway window. The rain was coming down in torrents, and the once-azure
Caribbean
had turned steely gray, with small whitecaps. He drew abreast of the doctor, who was still dressed in the bright, red-orange flight suit.

"Let me check on her, Doctor."

"No problem. If she needs any medical attention, though, call me?"

"I will." Jim saw her point to a door.

"This is yours for the duration of the trip, Colonel. Pepper's cabin is next door."

"Thanks." He watched the doctor move off and saw Commander Noah
Trayhern
appear at the other end of the passageway. Since he was captain, he had to stay on the
bridge,
though Jim was sure he wanted to be down in sick bay watching over Laura. He saw the doctor stop and begin to talk with him.

Still worried about Laura, Jim opened the door to his quarters. As he shed his clothes and took a
scaldingly
hot shower, he felt the last of the adrenaline ebbing away. He dried off and dropped the towel on the bunk. Someone had left him a one-piece, dark blue Coast Guard uniform, and he climbed into it. First he wanted to look in on Pepper, then he'd go get something to eat, check on Laura, then hit the sack.

Stepping back out into the passageway, Jim felt the ship rolling and balanced himself by placing his hands along the bulkhead as he walked. Stopping at the door to Pepper's cabin, he knocked loudly enough for her to hear, but got no answer. He waited. He knocked again.
Nothing.
Worried, he opened the door and stepped inside. His mouth stretched into a tender line as he saw Pepper in her bunk, sleeping deeply.

His heart started a slow pounding as he shut the door and made his way over to her. Jim lowered himself to one knee, steadying himself with a hand on the edge of the bunk. How fragile she looked in sleep. Her face was pale, much paler than it should be, he thought. All the usual pink had been washed out of her freckled cheeks. And the darkness beneath her thick, lowered eyelashes was obvious. He lifted his other hand and lightly touched her tangled hair. How he wished he could be here when she woke up, to take a brush and smooth those strong, silken strands.

A sudden memory of their heated kisses flowed through him, momentarily easing his various aches and pains. Barely touching Pepper's hair, careful not to waken her, Jim smiled. She lay on her left side, her knees drawn up, the blanket and sheet tightly wrapped around her. The desire to slide into the bunk with her was almost overwhelming. Right now, he needed Pepper more than he ever could have imagined possible.

Allowing his hand to fall back to his side, Jim slowly got to his feet, convinced Pepper was fine. All she needed was eight to twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, and she'd be in good shape. Before he left, he picked up her dirty gear and took it with him.

Pepper awoke slowly. Where was she? The sounds were strange. The motion was, too, until she groggily remembered she was on the Coast Guard ship. As she slowly sat up, every muscle in her body screamed in protest. Shoving her hair back out of her eyes, she sat there, assimilating her surroundings. The gentle rocking motion was comforting. As she came fully awake, the memories—the danger—all flooded back.

How was Laura?
The question spurred her out of bed. She located a Coast Guard uniform in the locker and put it on. Luckily, she also found the toiletry articles she needed, and quickly combed her tangled hair into some semblance of respectability and brushed her teeth. Pepper didn't look too closely at herself in the mirror. But what she saw, she didn't like. Her skin looked pasty, and dark circles lay under her eyes. Well, didn't she always look like this coming off a five-or ten-day fire?

Her heart moved back to Jim, and the pain nearly overwhelmed her. She had to find out how Laura was. Her stomach growled ominously. Looking around, she found a clock on the desk that was bolted to the deck. Six p.m. Impossible! They had landed on the ship at 0500.
Had she slept that long?

Getting directions from a crew member outside her quarters, Pepper headed directly to sick bay. Looking out the round hatch windows, she noted it was dusk. The sky was clear, the ocean smooth as glass. She ignored the dramatic red sunset as she moved stiffly down the stairs that would take her to the lower deck. She prayed Laura wasn't dead.

Pepper entered sick bay, a large room in comparison to her quarters, and a corpsman on duty greeted her.

"Mrs.
Trayhern
? Is she alive?" she blurted.

"Yes, ma'am."

Relief flooded through her. "Thank God," she whispered, touching her heart. "May I see her?"

"Colonel Woodward is with her right now, ma'am. It's a pretty small area, so it gets a little crowded in there."

Pepper hesitated. Her heart bled at the information. Jim was with Laura. What else had she expected? "Oh, okay…" She felt a sense of anguish, mingled with an odd relief. Why? Was she glad that Jim loved Laura? It was just as well he did love her, she told herself sternly. She must have been crazy, allowing herself to get so emotionally caught up with him in the first place. It had to have been the heat of the mission that had allowed her carefully constructed walls to fall into such shambles—that had allowed her to actually consider the possibility of her relationship with Jim going beyond the professional experience they'd shared. Now it was time to get back to reality, before she lost her heart for good. Pepper frowned, hoping it wasn't too late already…. John's unexpected death had taught her the hard way that her heart could never withstand such pain again. Never again would she surrender to such overwhelming emotion without the balance of rationality.

But why had it been so easy to say no and not get involved romantically with men until now? Pepper had no answers. The corpsman was looking at her strangely, so she tried to appear more alert.

"Dr. Parsons doesn't want Mrs.
Trayhern
to have too many visitors right now," the corpsman continued
placatingly
. "Perhaps if you went to the galley for dinner and came back after that?"

"Sure." Pepper's hunger was gone. Tears flooded her eyes and she swallowed. Jim was with Laura. As she quietly shut the sick-bay door, she wanted to sob, but didn't. Why was there so much pain in that realization? After all, John had been her life.
Her soul.
Her only experience with love.

"How're you feeling, Tiger?" Jim smiled and reached out to grip Laura's hand, which lay across her blanketed body. She looked very weak, her skin still translucent, her eyes cloudy.

"Jim…it's so good to see you." Laura cleared her throat, her voice raspy. She tried to squeeze his hand but couldn't muster the strength.

He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her brow. "I
gotta
tell you, you look a little better now than when we found you at the plantation."

"
Plantation
?"

"Yeah.
You remember, don't you? Garcia kidnapped you?"

"Wait…"

Mentally, Jim kicked himself. Dr. Parsons had warned him about hitting Laura with too much information too soon. Sometimes cocaine—which they had verified through lab tests was in her bloodstream—could wipe out certain events in a person's memory. He squeezed her hand. "Let me begin at the beginning," he told her quietly. "Stop me if I give you too much information too fast, okay?"

Laura felt chilled. Desperately, she looked up into Jim's face. "I haven't seen you for such a long time. The last time I remember was when we had lunch in
Fairfax
, at the Bicycle Club."

Relief raced through him. "Yes, that's right, Tiger, we did." He sat down on a chair and faced her. "Do you recall anything of the last couple days, Laura?"

"I…" She touched her head. The IV in her arm made it difficult to move. She looked around the room and then back at him. "Something terrible happened, didn't it?" Her voice was tremulous.

Jim stroked her hand in an effort to soothe her. He heard a noise behind him and looked around. Commander Noah
Trayhern
stood there. He was tired, his face lined with worry and his gray eyes burning with concern. Nodding to him, Jim turned and watched Laura carefully. Would she remember Morgan's brother?

"Laura, how are you?" Noah came around to the other side of the bed. He touched her shoulder and looked at her closely.

"Noah." Laura managed a weak smile. "What are you doing here?"

Noah traded a glance of alarm with Jim.

"Her memory will come back," Jim assured him. "As the drug wears off, everything will come back, from what Dr. Parsons said."

"I see." Noah looked down at Laura. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful. I'm cold."

Jim released her hand. "Let me go ask the corpsman where I can get another blanket for you."

"Thanks," Noah said, his voice filled with raw emotion.

Jim returned a few minutes later with two more blankets. The corpsman had assured him that the chills Laura was experiencing would eventually go away. Together, Jim and Noah tucked the warming covers around her. He was relieved to see some of the cloudiness leaving her eyes. How terrible it would be if the drug erased her memory completely. Laura still hadn't remembered that Morgan and Jason had been kidnapped.

Jim felt he should leave. Laura had an established rapport with Noah; he was much more present in her life than Jim was. Besides, it was obvious Noah was upset over the events. Jim moved to the side of the bed.

"Listen, I'm going to grab some chow, Laura. You're in good hands here with Noah. I'll come back later, and we'll talk, okay?"