Tangled Pursuit (9 page)

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Authors: Lindsay McKenna

BOOK: Tangled Pursuit
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“Yes, no problem.”

Alexa tapped her chin, looking up at the ceiling in thought. “This is bad, Tal.”

Tal gave her an exasperated look. “You’re telling me! Do you think I’m happy about it? Do you see me dancing for joy?”

“Capricorns are known for their cutting wit, by the way . . .”

“Oh, stop!”

Alexa laughed gently and reached out for Tal’s hand again. She was a toucher by nature and realized that contact was always soothing to someone who was upset. “Are you asking me what I’d do?”

“Maybe. I know you’re full speed ahead with any relationship. Nothing scares you off, Alexa. But this sure scares the hell out of me.”

“You’re afraid you’ll fall in love with Wyatt.”

There it was. Tal closed her eyes for a moment, feeling those wild emotions flying around inside her chest and lower body. “He’s an onion.”

“Oh dear . . . like Brian. And you. Mom always said you were an onion.”

“Yes. Lots of depth, layers. He’s interesting . . . fascinating, really . . .”

“You love onion people.”

“They never bore me.”

“Spoken like a true Capricorn. You know, people of that zodiac sign make the best therapists. They’re analytical, they don’t jump to conclusions, and they have such wonderful hearts.”

“Well, what I’d like to do is jump into bed with him,” Tal, surprised, heard herself admitting.

“That’s your risk-taking Sagittarius moon speaking, Tal. Jump first, ask questions later.”

Tal hitched one shoulder. “I find myself wishing I was that free, wild little girl growing up during our summers in Kuşadası. I loved the wildness in my heart . . . in my soul.”

“And as you grew up, Capricorn that you are, you took on the responsibility you were asked to carry. And somewhere along the line, that little wild child with a Sagittarius moon got tucked away.” Alexa pursed her full lips, thinking. Her eyes sparkled. “Tell me something. Does Wyatt trigger that wild, natural little girl in you again? Do you want to be spontaneous? Throw caution to the wind?”

“Yes, he does. I found myself just wanting to throw away my officer’s status, chuck my duties, and live in the moment like he always seems to do.”

“And so you’re in a massive emotional tug-of-war between your logic, your responsible self, and that little wild young woman within you who wants to jump into his arms.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Alexa nodded and smiled. “As a moon in Pisces, I’m the idealist, the romantic, and the dreamer. My sun is in Scorpio, so I need a partner, Tal. I’m so emotional and I have so many feelings bubbling up within me that I have to talk it out, show it, or I feel like I’ll explode. But listen, this isn’t about me. We need to focus on you.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel so torn up. Scared. Giddy, like you said. Up. Down. It’s awful.”

“But Wyatt really likes you, Tal. I know you think all he’s after is sex and a romp in bed, but I really felt such caring coming from him toward you. That doesn’t happen when a dude just wants sex, believe me. When you started choking yesterday, he was genuinely concerned. You didn’t see the look in his eyes, the fear in them. But I did. He was right there with you, all the way. That isn’t a guy who wants a woman just for sex. I see a lot more there, and I think you ought to give him a chance.”

“In or out of bed?”

Alexa grinned. “Is that a serious question? How long has it been for you?”

Groaning, Tal held up her hands. “I’m embarrassed to say. Far too long. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

“Then make love, enjoy it, enjoy Wyatt, and talk afterward.” Her gold-and-green eyes gleamed as she smiled. “Or talk between love sessions. I’m sure you’ll have more than a few orgasms, if it’s been that long.”

“I can always rely on you for pep talks. You missed your calling, sis. You should have a ‘Dear Alexa’ blog where you counsel the lost, the hurt, and the falling in love.”

Alexa rubbed her hands together. “Hah! Well, given my wealth of experience, I’d be good at it. Maybe I should look into writing a blog for the lovelorn . . .”

“Alexa, right now we have more serious fish to fry, like getting ready to work for Artemis.”

“I know, I was just teasing,” Alexa said, standing up and reaching for her tray. “So? Are you seeing Wyatt today?”

Tal replied, “Yes, actually,” and told her about the medical flight to the Afghan village for the day.

“Be sure, when you get back here, to go out for dinner with him. Order pizza and beer, and get him to talk.” Alexa waved her finger in Tal’s face. “And you talk too, Tal. I know how you can clam up and say nothing. But this is one guy you have to open up to by letting your lively, imaginative Sagittarian moon out to play. I have a feeling if you talk to Wyatt freely, you’ll find even more common ground. Who knows, you might even surprise yourself and end up in bed with him!”

CHAPTER 5

W
YATT WAS OUT
on the tarmac watching a pallet being placed in the CH-47. Looking up, he saw Tal Culver arrive. At 0700, the air was cool, but it was going to heat up as the sun rose higher over the Afghan desert sky. He wanted to stop and gaze at her tall, lithe body, but he was too busy. The sergeant responsible for loading the pallet had a record of contents, and it had to match what was on Wyatt’s list once the pallet was in place on the craft.

The whine of jet engines starting up joined the thumping of blades as two Apaches prepared for takeoff. Wyatt glanced toward Tal, wondering how last night’s conversation was affecting her—if at all. Part of him hadn’t expected her to show up this morning. He thought he might have scared her off again by revealing so much of himself. He recognized that this woman was wary, emotionally speaking, and this revelation had confused and entangled him. She was certainly like no other woman he’d met who had challenged him. What was she running
from
?

Wyatt knew she had issues about relationships, but what were they, and how would they affect him? Sure, there was also the “great divide” between enlisted and officers, but others had gotten past that barrier.

Anyway, now wasn’t the time to speculate on his romantic future. He had a job to do. Wyatt walked up the corrugated aluminum ramp into the hollow, tubelike fuselage of the long transport and watched as the crew threw a heavy net over the pallet to keep all the items in place once they’d been accounted for. There were boxes of children’s shoes, baby clothes, and clothes for older children. Wyatt knew just how destitute these Afghan villagers were; they were barely able to produce enough food for themselves, much less their neighbors.

One loadmaster sergeant finished pulling the nylon netting into place over the cargo while another strapped the load down to the deck with thick, wide nylon straps, hooking them into the deck to ensure the pallet would stay put during the coming flight. Rubbing his hands down the sides of his cammies, Wyatt noticed Tal standing at the bottom of the ramp, looking up expectantly at him. Just seeing her there made his heart skip a beat. He suddenly had a vision of her standing, waiting for him, in many future scenarios. Sometimes he could tune into his destiny, and this seemed like one of those times.

Tal looked tired to him this morning, with dark shadows beneath her deep green eyes. She resembled an exotic reincarnation of Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and of children. Her shiny black hair was caught up in a ponytail, and she was wearing her usual Marine uniform, a .45 strapped to her right thigh, an M4 in a chest harness across her Kevlar vest. She was prepared for combat, a wise decision, since they could be attacked by Taliban en route to or during their visit to the Shinwari village.

Wyatt gave her a welcoming warm smile as he made his way down the ramp, his boots thumping against the corrugated metal skin. Tal gave him a slight, hesitant smile in return. She was carrying a huge medical rucksack over her right shoulder that weighed a good seventy pounds. He took it gently from her and walked it into the helo, setting it on one of the nylon seats. Tal gave him a look of silent thanks, and it made him feel damn good. At least she wasn’t putting a wall up with him. Not yet.

“Hey,” he called as he ambled down the ramp to where she stood, raising his voice, gesturing toward Ops, “let’s go get a cup of coffee in there while these guys secure this pallet.” He looked at his wristwatch. “We’re not taking off until 0800.”

Nodding, Tal fell in step with him.

Once inside Operations, Wyatt took her to one of the pilot briefing and reporting rooms. He retrieved two cups of coffee and brought them into the small room with its single table and four metal chairs. Closing the door with the heel of his boot, he walked over to the table.

“Had any chow yet?” he asked, handing her the cup.

“Yes. You?” Tal took the white ceramic mug, noticing how their fingertips brushed in the exchange. She wanted to ignore the tingle it caused, but couldn’t. The man had
such
an enormous impact on her.

He sat down and stuck his long legs out in front of him. “I was over there at 0500.”

Tal sat down opposite him, sipping the coffee. “Sounds like you were up early.”

“I had a lot to do.” He gestured toward the door. “Cindy called me. She can’t make it—got the flu—so I went over to her B-hut and retrieved the prosthesis she had for that little girl, Rahela.”

He saw Tal’s brows move down a little. Was she rethinking going out with him this morning because Cindy wasn’t going to be there as chaperone? After all, there was safety in numbers, and he knew Tal wasn’t exactly comfortable around him. At least, not yet.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Does this change anything?” Wyatt held his breath; he’d never wanted anything more than he wanted this day with Tal to work out as he’d hoped. He was sorry Cindy had gotten sick, but he needed this time with Tal. His gut told him if he could just get her to see him in different situations, she might forget her original assessment of him—that all he did was chase women to get them into bed. Base gossip was a killer, and Wyatt knew all about his reputation as a skirt-chaser.

“Of course not. I can probably help that little girl with her new leg,” she said, flashing him a look of surprise.

Relief soared through Wyatt. “Have you had much training for it?”

“Enough. I can certainly get it on her and see if it fits correctly and if she can walk with it.”

Wyatt nodded. He’d been looking forward to
not
wearing his game face with Tal. He understood that she’d responded to him last night precisely because he’d been vulnerable with her. So he intended to continue being genuine whenever he was with her. Tal hid herself well, and Wyatt wanted to change his demeanor with her because he cared for her. This wasn’t a manipulation on his part. He’d been casting around for a lot of years trying to find the key that would open Tal up to him. Last night, he’d tripped over it by accident, and he sure as hell was going to continue this course of action with her. Last night, he’d had a deep awareness about himself as well as her. It had opened up naturally within him, and he began to see more of those subtle layers of Tal that she hid so well from the world around her. Wyatt didn’t think she was hiding them on purpose, however. He’d discovered over the course of his life that some people were just naturally layered and complex. The only way he’d gotten to know them in the past was with patience, time, being around them, and being vulnerable toward them. Tal was one of those people, he’d discovered last night. It was an epiphany that had rocked his world and shown him a healthy strategy that could work, he hoped, for both of them.

Here in this room, where it was relatively quiet and there were no distractions, Wyatt could reach out to her and hope she wouldn’t close up again. “You look a little tired,” he observed.

She looked away briefly, then turned to him. “Some nights I don’t sleep well.”

Nodding, he drank some coffee. He still saw wariness in her penetrating, forest-green eyes, but there was a lot less than yesterday. “I have another story to tell you,” he said suddenly, with the flash of a grin. Instantly, Tal responded, looking up at him with interest.

“Actually, it’s about where we’re going,” Wyatt added. “It’s a Shinwari tribe village. The Taliban have been trying to put new ratlines, new paths they’ve created, in the area above the walled village, in order to bring fertilizer or weapons into the country. The chief of the village doesn’t want the ratlines anywhere near them, of course. Most of the Taliban are coming from the Hill tribe, which has been the ongoing enemy of the Shinwari tribe for over a thousand years.”

“The Hill tribe has definitely thrown in their lot with the Taliban and al-Qaeda,” Tal agreed grimly.

“Yeah, our favorite HVTs, come out of that tribe,” Wyatt said. “Anyway, this Shinwari village has really benefited from U.S. help. We’ve been able to replace a herd of cows and a bull that was shot and killed by the Taliban last year. The people there will probably surround you, hug you, and do anything they can to make you feel welcome. They don’t have much, but what they have, they’ll share with us.”

“I’ve found that to be true of all Shinwari-tribe villages,” Tal agreed.

“The village has several young babies and two pregnant mothers who will need to be checked. Cindy usually does that, like giving the two moms pregnancy meds and vitamins. I’ve got some more in my pack to give them,” Wyatt went on.

“How far along are the women?”

Wyatt grinned. “One gal is thirty-two weeks along, and the second is twenty-five weeks.”

“In that case, I’m glad I put my obstetric pack in that ruck,” Tal said.

“Good to know. You might use it today,” said Wyatt. “You never know.” He saw softness enter Tal’s eyes. “Are you a sucker for babies too?”

“Very much so. I love participating in births. Have you delivered any babies here?” She remembered as if it were yesterday, how warm and caring Wyatt was with those little Afghan boys when he taught them how to swim at the Rec Hall. In her opinion, he was a natural father type.

“Well, not directly,” Wyatt said. “There are midwives in every village who know more about birthing than I ever will. But I can slip the chief items via his wife to those midwives who will need them when the moms go into labor. You know I can’t do it directly, since in their tradition, men don’t get involved in birthing. That’s women’s work.”

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