Violets in February (8 page)

“OK.”

“Look, if you get really stuck, shout. I'll come help with my eyes shut.”

The walls visibly went up, and the portcullis in her eyes dropped. “I can manage.”

He kept his gaze on her small figure as she slowly made her way into the brush.

She was very subdued. It made a change from the feisty and downright annoying she'd been earlier.

“I'm sure you can,” he muttered under his breath.

Jed turned back to the Ute and pulled out the one chair he possessed. He set it next to the fire and returned to the Ute to find the bread. He busied himself making a cut lunch. By rights, he should cook something, but he didn't want to waste what little daylight was left by doing that. He glanced up.

She should be back by now.

“Doc, how you doing?” he yelled.

There was no answer.

His soldier's instinct kicked into full alert. “Doc! Lucy!” He pulled the gun from the small of his back and flicked off the safety. Holding it in front of him, two handed, ready to fire, he followed the path she'd taken. “Lucy…give me a shout if you're all right.” He parted the bush.

The darn woman stood stock still, leaning against a tree, staring at the path. Her eyes were wide and she had no color at all.

“Hey, Doc, you done?”

She looked up, sheer abstract terror etched in her gaze. A trembling finger pointed to the ground in front of her.

He frowned as he followed her finger.

A snake poised, ready to strike, coiled inches from her bare ankle.

Without a pause, he pulled the trigger. The shot rang out, and the snake fell. Jed kicked it away and then flicked the safety on the gun, shoving it back into his pants. He softly put a hand on each of her arms. “You OK? It didn't get you?”

She shook her head, trembling from head to toe.

“Goodo.” He wouldn't make light of things, but normality might just snap her out of whatever place she'd gone to. “Then we need to go eat. Can you walk or shall I carry you?”

“Walk,” she whispered.

He kept a hand on her waist, telling himself it was to keep her balanced, nothing more. Now all he had to do was believe it. “I even found you a chair.” He led her to it.

She sat down, sighing in relief.

“Made you a cheese sanger…” He held out a plate to her.

She looked at him, not taking it.

“Of course. You want to clean your hands first.” He laid the plate on her lap and handed her a wipe for her hands. “Here you go. Billy's boiled. I'll make the tea.” Turning back to the stove, he shoved tea into the pot. What was wrong with the woman? He glanced over his shoulder at her. She sat, eyes closed, lips moving. Probably saying grace.

Another custom drilled into him, that he'd dropped as soon as he possibly could.

He made the tea like he drank it. Very hot, very strong, and very sweet. She needed the sugar whether she wanted it or not. Pushing upright, he took the cup over and held it out. “Here. And more travel pills. Don't want you throwing up again.”

Lucy reached out a trembling hand. “Thank you.”

He sat on the ground next to her. “No worries.”

She looked down at the cup.

“It's got sugar in it. For shock.”

“Like sugar.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Don't like snakes, huh?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Tell you what. I'll check next time. Make sure there are no snakes anywhere.”

“OK.”

He glanced up at her, surprised she'd agreed. He didn't think anything could get to her, but maybe…maybe she was just as human as he was. Not that she was fallible, because Christians never were.

“Goodo.” He smiled as cheerfully as he could. “Eat up. I want to do at least another twenty miles before dark.”

Lucy glanced at the darkening sky. “You reckon?”

Jed followed her gaze.

Darkness had crept up on him, coming early. The clouds were building fast. Thunder rumbled again in the distance.

“Ten, maybe. And find somewhere sheltered to sleep.”

“A village. With a hotel. And plumbing.”

He laughed. Her humor was returning. “Not here in the back of Bourke. We'll have to make do with a river or stream or a well at best. And probably sleep in the Ute. I would have brought a tent if I'd known we'd be camping.”

“I hate camping.” She pulled the crusts off the bread, eating them slowly.

“Yet you chose to live in the middle of a jungle, miles from civilization.”

“Not in a tent,” she said defensively. “And it's where God wants me.”

Jed choked on his food. “God told you this?” he scoffed. “In a dream or something, I assume. Seems to me you could do the same job in London, Sydney or New York. At least there, you won't be stuck with a busted knee over two hundred miles from a hospital.”

“Maybe.” She held the sandwich out to him. “Not hungry. You have it.”

He shook his head. “If you don't eat, you can't have any more pain meds.”

She shot him a withering look. “And where did you get your degree in medicine?”

“It's common sense, so just saying.” He finished his food and leaned back against the chair leg, watching the flickering firelight in silence.

Why was she so different than any other woman? Even though she was injured, he'd normally have made a move by now. And succeeded. Even the prickly ones gave in to his charms in the end. But he didn't even want to go there. What was it she'd said? Not even if he were the last man on the face of the planet.

Well, that worked both ways.

He'd get her to the hospital. Drop her off and leave her.

Then he'd hightail it out of there and request they put another truckie on that —

He shook his head. He couldn't even swear properly inside his own head around the woman. That would never do. He pushed up and brushed his hands on his pants. “Should get on. Will be properly dark soon.”

“Is this really the only road?” she asked, as he tossed the things they'd used back in the Ute.

“We can't use the main road because of the fighting.” He crossed over to her and swung her into his arms.

“Seriously? They're that close?”

He lifted her back into the Ute. “Yes, seriously. I told Tim he needs to evac the mission, but he refused.” He stared at her for a long moment. “God won't protect you against an army with killing on their minds. So don't bother telling me He will.” He turned and busied himself with putting out the fire and making sure all evidence of their stop had gone. Bad enough he was leaving tire tracks.

Something wet fell on his head. Followed by a succession of drops. The rains were here.

It'd take a miracle for them to get to a hospital now.

And for folks like him, miracles didn't happen.

~*~

Lucy sat quietly in the truck as Jed drove.

He hadn't put the music back on, choosing instead to sit in silence, his attention fixed on the track which had already turned to a river of mud.

The rain poured against the fabric roof, bouncing off the windows, the noise deafening.

She kept her window open as much as she could without letting the water in.

Rather than bouncing, the truck slid on the road, into and out of ruts.

Jed's driving was laced with more colorful metaphors than normal.

She gave up asking him to stop swearing. She had to admit again, albeit grudgingly, that he scrubbed up pretty well. At some point, he'd tied his hair back, exposing a strong jaw line, pricked with five o'clock shadow around his short beard. She'd never been a huge fan of beards, preferring the clean lines and fuzz free look. But her fingers itched to touch him, touch his beard. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if kissing someone with a beard felt as scratchy as it looked. Her gaze moved down over his neck, chest, arms…

What had she done to deserve this? He wasn't the type of man she should fall for. She shouldn't even fall in love at all. Especially with him.

He was everything she detested in a man—he swore, smoked, had tattoos, an earring, and rotten taste in music. He'd scared her, but being this close to him, she realized something.

He was the one who was scared.

Running scared at that.

Was he scared of her?

Scared of what she stood for?

Scared of God? Is this why God had thrown them together like this? So she could help Jed not be scared? What was she meant to—?

The truck swerved violently, swinging across the track.

Lucy screamed and grabbed tight hold of the dashboard.

Jed swore as he frantically tried to gain control of the sliding truck.

The truck continued its circle, finally coming off the road and half into a ditch. The engine stalled.

The abrupt stop threw Lucy forward into the seatbelt. Pain jarred her chest, piercing her knee with an agony so intense, tears sprang to her eyes.

The silence was broken only by the last scrape of the wiper blades, and the thud, thud, thud of the rain.

“You all right?” Jed asked.

Her heart pounded, threatening to break loose, and she had to struggle to get the words past the lump in her throat. “Think so.” She looked at him. “What happened?”

“Slid off the freaking road.” Jed's tone was short. “You sure you're OK? Didn't hurt yourself?”

“I'm fine. What about you?”

“Fine.” He turned the key several times before the engine caught. He tried to move the truck, but nothing happened. He thumped the steering wheel. “Come on.” He tried again and swore as once more the truck didn't move. “Stay here.”

Jed clambered out into the pouring rain and vanished from sight.

Lucy sent up a series of prayers. She didn't want to be stuck in a rut for the rest of her life. She'd come to Africa, not just to serve God, but because she wanted adventure. Well, she'd had enough adventure now. She just wanted her knee fixed and to go back to the mission base where it was safe.

She jumped at a tap on the window. Cranking it open she looked at the drenched figure standing there.

“Ute got bogged,” he shouted. “Gonna have to dig it out.”

“OK.” She sat back in the seat, wishing she could get out and help. If it weren't for her, neither of them would be in this position right now. She could hear Jed swearing as he dug. How could such filth flow so easily from someone as good looking as him?

And where did that come from?

Some days she struggled to remember she was as vile a sinner as he was, the only difference being she'd been saved by grace and he hadn't.

Yet.

After a further ten minutes, the driver's door opened. Jed climbed in. He was soaked to the skin, his white shirt sticking to him, leaving nothing to her imagination. And he was filthy. He turned the key. Five times. “OK, you stupid, flaming sack of —”

“Mr. Gorman, please,” she interrupted.

Jed rolled his eyes. “OK, you sweet, beloved Ute of mine. I'd be most obliged if you would please start and then get yourself out of the—” he paused “—hole you got yourself into. Better?”

“Much.”

He glanced at her. “Jed.”

“Sorry?” Confusion filled her for a moment.

“My name is Jed. Mr. Gorman makes me sound about fifty.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, then held out a hand. “Lucy.”

He took her hand, his wet skin clammy, but his grip firm. “Pleased to meet you, Lucy.”

“You're cold.”

“Ever the doc, huh. I'll be a darn sight colder if this Ute doesn't move.” He tried the engine again and this time it caught. He slammed it into gear and floored the accelerator. Finally, the truck moved, and he guided it back onto the road.

“Do you have any spare clothes?” she asked.

“No, and before you offer me a shirt, it's very kind, but I don't think it'd fit. Do you mind if I put the heat on, or is that gonna make you sick?”

“It's more important for you to get dry.”

Jed nodded and whacked up the heat full blast. He drove silently, the truck getting uncomfortably warm.

The damp smell turned her stomach. She swallowed hard, but to no avail. “Please stop…”

He slammed on the brakes and Lucy opened the door, leaning out and losing what little she'd eaten. “So much for the motion pills.” His hand rested lightly on her back. “There's a village half a click or so ahead. We'll stop there for the night. Will you make it that far?”

Lucy eased back into the seat, shutting the door. “OK. Sorry. And yeah, should take the pills at least an hour before travelling.”

He rolled his eyes. “Now you tell me. And don't be sorry. Just tell me these things earlier next time.”

“OK.” She closed her eyes as the truck started moving again. It lurched, rumbled, and slid over the wet mud.

As the forward movement stopped, the muttered curse made her open her eyes.

Smoke rose from the ruins in front of her, illuminated by the trucks headlights.

The rebels had got to the village before them. There was nothing left.

7

Lucy looked at the burned remnants of the village in despair. “What happened?”

Jed turned his tortured gaze from the smoking ruins to her. “Bloody rebel army, that's what happened. We can't stay here.”

“I can't go any further tonight. Jed, please, you said we'd stop here.”

“Look around you, Lucy. It isn't safe here anymore.”

“The rebels won't be back.”

“How do you know that?” he demanded. “God tell you?”

“Don't mock me.” She folded her arms tight across her middle.

“I'm not,” he muttered.

“They won't be back because there is nothing left for them to come back to.”

Jed shook his head and drove slowly through the ruins. The headlights illuminated half a shed still standing. He managed to reverse into it. “This will give us some shelter tonight. We'll hide here until dawn, but you stay in the Ute.”