Texas Wildcat (8 page)

His nostrils flared but he kept his eyes on the traffic. “You’re so bullheaded, Kelly. That well’s already killed five people! It was blown up by a bunch of border terrorists from the Emirates. We’re going into some rough territory and frankly, you should stay home. The Rub of Khali Desert is one of the most desolate places in the world. It’s a living hell. You should catch the next fire.”

She clenched her hands in her lap. “You can’t scare me off, Tyler! Blanchard Pipe will be on the job. And I’ve got to be there too, to prove that I stand behind my father’s product one hundred percent. It’s a question of honor. I’m going, even if it kills me.”

He gave her a grim look. “Has it ever occurred to you, you redheaded witch, that maybe, just maybe, some people would like to see you alive?” He cursed beneath his breath. “No, I suppose it hasn’t. You’re so damn quick to don your battle armor and prepare for the next skirmish.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “Sometimes you haven’t got a brain in your head!”

She sat there, ready to explode. If she had been eighteen, she would have slapped his face without a second thought. But she wasn’t eighteen. And she heard the concern for her safety in his voice. Taking several deep breaths, she calmed herself.

It was another ten miles before she trusted herself to speak. As she looked over at Sam, she saw the rugged features of his face. His profile looked as if it had been hewn by the sun, wind and rain. There was nothing compromising about him at all.

“I know you’re upset, Sam,” she began. “I’ll stay out of the way so you won’t have to worry about me. I’m not a complete idiot. I’ve had training on H2S gas wells. My Dad dealt with more of them than I care to think about. I know the dangers.”

His expression softened slightly as he slid a glance in her direction. The chignon she normally wore had loosened. He had a momentary urge to pull the rest of the pins free, allowing that red hair of hers to flow across her shoulders. “Did you hear me? I said a terrorist group blew up that well. There are always border disputes between the Arab Emirates and the Saudis. You may be knowledgeable about breathing apparatus and gas wells, Kelly. But you’re no match for a sniper’s bullet or a band of guerillas who are out to destroy everything around their neighbor’s oil and gas wells.” His mouth became grim. “I spent two tours in Nam. I know what it’s like to get shot at and wounded. You’re a woman going into a hostile environment.” He clenched his teeth, silent for a minute. He couldn’t say anything more. Not yet. It was too soon and maybe too late. How could he tell her that she haunted his dreams every night? And that he never ceased to think about her during his waking hours? He needed time to assuage some of her fears of men, time so that she could come to know him better. Now this whole damn thing in the Middle East had erupted and she was walking into a situation where she might get killed.

Sam tried to ignore the ache in his chest caused by that last thought. She was too vital, too alive to die in such a stupid, wasteful manner. Damn her bullheadedness. Her foolhardiness…

* * *

By the time they arrived at the airport, the heavy equipment was in the process of being loaded. Kelly remained close to Sam, nearly running to keep up with his long stride. The plane being loaded was a C-130 Hercules painted in the camouflage colors of green, brown and beige. Kelly’s skin began to crawl as they drew closer. The shouts, directions and roar of equipment blended in a cacophony of discordant noise to her ears. There were three other men in white coveralls besides Sam. She spotted Boots Hansen immediately, his white baseball cap perched on the back of his head as he consulted with the pilots and navigator of the plane.

Sam gripped her arm, bringing her to a halt. His eyes were still filled with anger as he looked down at her. “Get into your coveralls,” he said tightly. “Use that building over there to change.” It was a small building away from the main terminal area of the airport. Kelly nodded and picked up her suitcase.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she zipped up the front of the coveralls. She had lost most of the pins in her hair and decided to free it. There was a tension about the entire operation that she could not ignore. Questions whirled through her mind as she quickly walked back across the concrete ramp to the C-130. She spotted Sam conferring with Colly and joined them, waiting for further instructions.

Sam glanced down at her. He drew in a breath, mesmerized by her untamed beauty. Her auburn hair was like red flame set against the crisp whiteness of the uniform. His body tightened with a flood of desire and he wondered for the thousandth time what it would be like to bring her proud, willful spirit into union with himself. His gaze raked her from her booted feet to her glorious mane of hair.

“Give Colly your suitcase. We’ll be boarding shortly.”

“What about my pipe?”

“Already loaded. Go see for yourself,” he said, pointing toward the four-engine prop jet aircraft.

“Sam…why is the plane camouflaged? It looks military.”

He rested his hands on his hips, his face becoming grimmer. “It’s a Saudi government plane. And the gas well is owned by the Saudi government, too. Where we’re going, it’s a free-fire zone. Those pilots you see over there are under contract with the Saudis.”

Kelly looked closely at the crew. “Americans?”

“Mercenaries,” he ground out. “Men looking for another war to fight.” He turned abruptly, leaving her standing alone on the ramp.

It took several hours to load the two Athey wagons, two integrated piperack units and piperack skids. Two of everything were taken so that in case one unit failed, they would have a backup.

Finally Coots waived Kelly over to join him. “You might as well get aboard, Kelly. They’re gonna wind this bird up in about ten minutes.” His brown eyes grew worried. “You sure you want to come? Boots ain’t so sure that—”

“I’m very sure, Coots. I’ll stay out of the way. I know about H2S gas. I won’t be a burden to you. I promise.” Over the past few hours, Kelly had felt the grim tension in the men, and it frightened her, as did the military nature of the operation. On the other hand, Sam’s desire to leave her home, where it was safe, roused her fighting spirit.

Coots took the cap off his head and scratched his brown hair for a moment. “The government has assured us the area’s secure from the terrorist faction that blew up the gas well. I don’t know…”

“Have you gone into unsafe areas before?”

“We’ve gone into hostile environments when the government we’re working for can guarantee our security. If they can’t guarantee it, we don’t go. Hell, that’s why those wells over in Iran and Iraq are still burning. Ain’t no one in their right mind gonna try to cap ’em in the middle of that situation.”

“But this is different?”

Coots threw the cap back on his head. “They say it is. But I don’t believe ’em.” He put his arm around her shoulder, walking her toward the gargantuan cargo plane. “I was a tail-gunner aboard B-17’s during World War II. I got shot at plenty.” He shook his head. “I’ve seen enough killing to last me ten lifetimes. My gut says the place isn’t that secure. I dunno…”

Worriedly, Kelly looked up at him. Coots was a large man with broad shoulders, much like Sam. The fact that he hugged her as they walked made her feel like she suddenly had a second father. There was a protective quality about Coots Matthews that made her feel safe. Almost as safe as when Sam held her.

The three American mercenaries watched Kelly’s progress as she climbed up the long ramp at the rear of the plane. She was acutely conscious of their stares. Everywhere she looked, huge skids of firefighting equipment were anchored to the floor of the C-130. Rope cargo netting and nylon webbing hung against the walls of the plane.

“Kelly…”

It was Sam’s voice—less authoritative, more coaxing. She raised her head and caught sight of him standing by the starboard bulkhead near a row of seats. They weren’t passenger plane seats by any means, but she went to him and tried to make herself comfortable against the nylon webbing that provided the only back support. Her pulse was pounding unevenly. Was it because of Sam’s closeness? Her fear of starting this journey? Or a combination of both?

“Strap in. They’ll be revving up for takeoff.” He instantly regretted the coldness in his tone. She looked like a scared little girl. He reached out, making contact with her hand. “I’m sorry I was rough on you earlier,” he said gruffly, and then he released her cool fingers.

Kelly felt as if she were in an alien world. The entire rear ramp yawned closed, the groaning of the hydraulics reverberating throughout the bottom of the aircraft. Huge, shadowed equipment loomed above them, with very little space left for anyone to move. The voices of the men competed with the screeching, whistling sound of the four mighty prop jet engines.

Kelly swallowed and found her throat was dry. Her eyes were wide, betraying her inner fears. What was she getting herself into? Sam’s hand slid over hers, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. His hand was warm. Hers was ice cold. She met his gaze. This time there was no anger in his face. This time there was only concern and tenderness in those wonderful azure eyes.

“Th-thanks,” she whispered, meaning it.

Sam gave her a crooked smile. “A little fear is good for you, Kelly,” he advised.

The C-130 began to move and she gripped Sam’s hand tightly for a moment, adjusting to the new sensations. Boots was moving around the skids, double checking to make sure they were securely fastened to the deck. If the load shifted it could slide into the bulkhead, crushing a human being.

Sam began to gently massage her hand. “Relax,” he coaxed. “This part is a piece of cake.”

“Yeah?” she mouthed.

His smile deepened. “Yeah.” He reached across with his other hand and picked up a thick strand of her hair. “Try and relax,” he murmured.

“I’m scared to death,” she admitted. The C-130 was gathering speed and as it hit each bump and depression in the taxiway, the plane wallowed like a beached whale.

“Like I said,” Sam murmured, “a little fear is good for you.”

“I thought that was just your way of getting even with me for coming along.”

Sam shook his head. “I may be upset that you’re coming, Kelly, but I wouldn’t deliberately be cruel to you. The reason I said a little fear is good is because it will keep you alert and on your toes. And where we’re going, you don’t want to take anything or anyone for granted.”

“Wonderful.”

Sam switched hands, placing his arm around her shoulders and continuing to hold her one hand. “You mean even a redhead has a limit on courage?” he teased.

“You,” she said, giving him a gentle jab in the ribs, “can be replaced.”

He laughed. It was a wonderfully free, uninhibited laugh that rolled through the bowels of the plane. Suddenly she relaxed in his embrace. “On second thought, maybe you can’t be,” she admitted.

“Glad to hear that, honey.”

She made a face. “You sure are confident of yourself, Tyler. Where did they dig you up?”

“I’m confident where you’re concerned,” he told her in a disturbingly low voice which sent a shiver through her.

The C-130’s engines were now changing pitch. The plane suddenly came to a halt and Kelly clutched at Sam’s arm.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’re at the beginning of the runway. The pilots are waiting for clearance from the tower. You’ll hear them winding up the engines even more, so relax.”

She closed her eyes, suddenly grateful for his explanations. “I owe you one, Sam Tyler,” she told him earnestly, meeting his stare.

“Yeah, and I intend to collect.”

The turbo-prop engines began to scream like shrill banshees. The plane vibrated, shivering like an eagle crying to be released from its earthly imprisonment. Sam’s arms tightened around her, holding her close as the plane began its forward momentum. Lights dimmed and blinked, leaving them all in the shadows. They were surrounded by the shrill noise, the rattling and clanking of pipe vibrating on the skids. It seemed like forever before the plane broke contact with the runway and fought its way skyward to the gathering dusk. Shakily, Kelly released a long-held breath.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she confided to Sam.

He gave her one of his boyish grins. “Me too. Say, you know this could become a pleasant habit. You’re kind of nice to hold, my redhaired witch.”

He released her hand and disengaged his arm from around her shoulders. He unstrapped himself from the seat and got up. “Stay here. I’m going to steal a thermos of coffee and some food from Boots.”

She was more than happy to remain in one place. Apparently the lights in the rear of the plane weren’t working properly. Kelly wondered if they would reach the Middle East in one piece. By the way Boots and Coots were acting, they would. Everyone was up, wandering around, checking the cables securing the skids. Sam came back with a thermos and a brown bag. He handed her the bag.

“Here. Dinner.”

Kelly was surprised at how hungry she had become. Darkness came quickly as the aircraft headed in an easterly direction. They ate chicken sandwiches and drank black coffee, sharing the one available cup. Even in the dim light, Kelly could see the strain written on Sam’s face.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?”

Sam collected the wrappers and stuffed them back into the bag. “About your being here, yes.”

“But not for yourself?”

“No.” He held her gaze. “This is a man’s job and only men are going to be present, Kelly. I know it’s a chauvinistic statement, but it’s not meant to be. You’re going into a part of the world where women are considered little more than baby-bearers or merchandise to be sold into harems.” His voice lowered. “Maybe it would be wise for you to gather up all your hair and tuck it inside one of those white hard hats we all wear when we’re at a site. Boots had an idea.”

She felt tiredness creeping up on her. “What?”

“We’re going to pass you off as Coots’s daughter. The story we’ll give them is that you’re a water hydraulics specialist learning the trade. Naturally, because that’s my field, you’ll be with me at all times. That way, the Bedouins are less likely to bother you. If I were you, I wouldn’t wear any makeup, either. I’d try to look as much like a man as possible. Don’t draw their attention if you can help it and whatever you do, don’t wander away from our crew.”