Running Fire

Oh, she trusted the pilots she flew with, but that was different. There were no emotional ties with them. It was professional, detached, and they all had a job to do.

And then, the crash slammed back into her memory. Leah gasped, her eyes widening. She tried to get up, but he gently placed his hand on her shoulder and kept her down.

“Sugar, you’re not ready to get up just yet. What’s wrong?”

Her emotions ran wild. Grief tunneled through her. “M-my crew...”

Kell saw tears jam into her eyes, heard the rasping terror in her voice. He kept his hand on her shoulder more to comfort her than anything else. “I’m sorry. They didn’t make it. Only you managed to escape.” His heart wrenched as huge tears rolled down her pale, tense cheeks. Oh, hell, he hated when a woman cried. “Your helo got hit with two RPGs,” he told her. “You were lucky you survived.”

Leah lifted her right hand, covering her eyes, a sob rocking through her. Brian, Liam and Ted gone? Dead? She couldn’t help herself. She began crying, softly because every time her body jerked she felt bruising pain in her head and left arm. She felt Kell’s large hand on her shoulder, patting it gently like he would pat a child who was upset. She let her hand fall away from her eyes and she gave him a pleading look. “Are you sure they’re dead?”

It hurt Kell, but he said, “They’re gone. I’m sorry,” and he gently pressed his fingertips here and there around the gash. She showed no reaction to his touch. “Can you lie still now for me? I need to stitch this closed and I can’t do it if you’re moving around. Okay?”

Leah collapsed against the makeshift bed he’d placed beneath her. She dragged her good arm across her eyes, grief-stricken over the loss of Brian and their crew. “Yes, go ahead,” she choked out brokenly, her voice gutted with grief.

It didn’t take Kell long to clean and stitch up the nasty gash. He could feel grief rolling off her. Kell understood loss because he’d lost some of his best SEAL friends over the past nine years. There was nothing he could say or do. Grief had its own way with a person and sometimes nothing could stop it, lift it or dissolve it.

As he finished placing a waterproof dressing over most of her lower arm, he gently laid it across her belly. Getting up, he put everything back into his ruck where it belonged. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was nearly 0300. It was time to check out things around their hide. Kell never took anything for granted. The Taliban were sniffing around for them and he knew it. They were premier trackers, never to be underestimated.

He knelt down on one knee and touched her shoulder. She pulled her arm away from her reddened eyes. “I need to do a little recon,” he told her. “I’ll be back in about thirty to forty minutes.” He pulled his SIG pistol out and placed it near her right hand. “You know how to use a pistol? It’s got nine rounds in the magazine and there’s a bullet in the chamber. There’s no safety on this model. If I don’t come back, then know there’s a tunnel—” and he pointed toward it “—over there. If you hear Taliban coming, get my ruck, put it on your back and take that tunnel out to the side of the mountain. It’s got a compass and map, plus a sat phone in it. You can call for help. Okay?” His gaze dug into hers. Kell could see she understood his instructions.

“I can do that,” Leah said, her voice husky with tears.

Kell reached out and gently touched the crown of her head because he saw the look of terror and abandonment in her eyes. She was still fragile from the head injury. “I’ll be back, Sugar,” he promised.

Leah watched as he took long, lanky strides and disappeared into the darkness with his Win-Mag across his shoulder. She turned, realizing the penlight was the only light source for her to be able to see the area where she lay. Slowly, Leah weakly pushed herself into a sitting position. She was on a sleeping bag with two rolled-up blankets, one for a pillow, the other beneath her knees.

Emotionally, she felt demolished, the tears still falling over the loss of Brian, Liam and Ted. She scrubbed her eyes, finding her left arm painful to raise. Staring at the dressing, Leah began to appreciate Kell’s medical skills.

Gazing around, she heard running and dripping water to her right. She picked up the penlight and flashed it in that direction. There was a small pool of water. Leah realized water was leaking from above the cave roof, finding its way down into the pool. They had water. That was a good thing.

Her head ached like hell. Every time she turned it, dizziness struck her. Leah knew if Kell didn’t return, she wouldn’t have much of a chance of survival by herself. Not in her present injured condition.

She was exhausted and lay down on her right side. Less pain in her head that way. The cave was chilly, so she reached down and took the rolled blanket, smoothing it out across her damp flight suit. Finally, she was warm, and she shut her eyes and spiraled quickly into a deep, healing sleep.

* * *

KELL RETURNED AN hour later. He moved without a sound as he entered the cave. Turning on his other penlight, he saw the woman pilot asleep. Good.

Wearily, he propped up his Win-Mag against the cave wall. Picking up his pistol, which was very near her right hand, he brought it to the other side of where she slept. There was nothing to do now but rest. He stretched out on the cave floor and pulled his ruck up as a pillow for his head.

Two feet away from him Chief Mackenzie slept. He felt compelled to curve himself around her body, but knew that he couldn’t. She was an Army warrant officer. He was an enlisted Navy SEAL. The two would never meet rank-wise. And besides, he liked a woman to come to him on her own rather than imposing himself on her. Closing his eyes, Kell dropped off in minutes.

An hour later, Kell was snapped out of his sleep by a voice. Instantly, he pulled the other rifle he carried, the M-4, into his hands, trying to peer into the utter darkness. And then he realized it was the woman pilot talking in her sleep. She was restless, moving onto her back.

Worried, Kell set the rifle nearby and turned on the penlight, propping it against the cave wall, close enough so he could assess her condition. Slowly getting to his knees, Kell saw her throw her right arm across her face, as if someone were hitting her. Her cries were soft, almost like a rabbit crying after being caught by a predator. What in tarnation was going on here?

“No...”

Hesitating, Kell sat paralyzed for a moment, unsure whether to wake her up or not. A lot of people in his business had nightmares. It was just part of the PTSD they all got sooner or later.

“No! Hayden! Don’t hit me!”

His heart plummeted. Someone was hitting her? No way. Yet he saw her trying to use her right arm to defend herself from unseen head blows. What the hell? And then, Kell saw her jerk her left arm up. She cried out in pain, waking herself up.

Kell moved to Mackenzie’s side, gently catching her left arm, bringing it down against her belly. “Hey, Sugar, you’re having some bad dreams. I need you to wake up.” She was breathing unevenly. He placed his fingers inside her wrist. Her pulse was pounding like a freight train.

When her eyes opened, he saw them glazed with terror. Her soft, full mouth was contorted, the corners pulled inward. Automatically, Kell smoothed her hair across the top of her head, crooning to her. She was still caught in whatever the nightmare was. Kell didn’t want to believe that a man was hitting her. Maybe just a bad dream about the crash?

Leah moaned and covered her eyes with her right hand. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” she muttered, her voice low and hoarse.

“It’s all right,” Kell murmured. He liked the soft strands of her hair. It was strong, thick hair. The strands were silky and sifted through his fingers. He saw his touch was having a positive effect on her. He kept his other hand over hers, keeping that injured arm on her belly, unmoving because it was such a long, deep gash. Sudden movement could rip the stitches he’d so carefully put in.

Kell’s hand on hers felt warm and dry. Leah felt sweaty. She was trembling from the nightmare that came too often and usually left her up the rest of the night, adrenaline screaming through her body to run and escape.

She needed Kell’s firm, warm touch. His hand was so much larger than hers, spreading out across her abdomen. The more he moved strands of her hair through his fingers, the more she calmed down. Leah wondered if he was like a horse whisperer, having magical qualities in his hands and voice to tame even the most violent of human beings. Whatever it was, maybe because he was a combat medic, he had a healing touch. And she trusted him.

Kell saw her start to pull out of it and removed his hands. He rested them on his thighs, absorbing her beauty. Probably married. Yep, someone as pretty as she was would definitely be married. He felt sad about that, but he was a realist. Even if she hadn’t been, it would never work. It was against the UCMJ for an officer to fraternize with an enlisted person. Both could receive a bad conduct discharge, which would leave their careers effectively destroyed.

Yet, as he absorbed her, his heart reached out to her. That was silly and he snorted softly. He had a family called the SEALs. Getting involved again was not in the cards. It was a high-stakes poker game and the last time Kell had played it, he’d lost.

His lawyer wife, Addison, had hated his long periods of being gone, his having to spend six months in combat. She told him she felt as though she was marrying the SEALs and not him. Sadly, there was a lot of truth to her incisive statement. Kell had learned the hard way women weren’t meant to be married to a SEAL for long. There was a 90 percent divorce rate among them. And if a marriage lasted ten years, that was considered a long time. That should have warned him off, but it hadn’t. Now, he was a part of that sad statistic.

Leah opened her eyes, released from the nightmare. She felt Kell’s presence to her left and slowly turned her head. He sat back on his heels watching her. There was such calm in his face. His shoulders were so broad, as if they could carry more weight than a normal person’s. Even dressed in SEAL cammies, she could see his chest was broad, hips narrow. He was probably around six foot, maybe a little more. Her gaze drifted down to his hands resting on his long, hard thighs.

Healing hands. Hands that did not hurt her, but took her pain away. She closed her eyes. The agony of her abusive marriage had taken a chunk out of her fractured soul. Hayden had taught her about the dark side of a man’s nature. He’d been a sexual predator, physically, emotionally and mentally abusive to her. He’d needed to control her, remind her who was boss.

How had she survived it? There were times when Leah thought for sure Hayden was going to kill her. He’d come close three different times. And all three times, she’d ended up in the hospital. Desperate to forget it, Leah opened her eyes and met Kell’s curious gaze.

“I’m sorry for waking you...”

“It happens,” he said with a slight shrug. “Want to sit up?”

Nodding, she whispered, “Yes, but I feel like a damned puppet.”

Ballard gave her a lazy grin and came over and helped her, placing the blanket behind her back so the rough cave wall wouldn’t tear at her or her flight suit. “You will for a couple of days.” He brought over her helmet. “Take a look at this.” He turned it so that it showed where part of it had been split open.

Drawing in a deep breath, Leah’s eyes widened. “That was the blade,” she rasped. “It came flying into the cockpit.” And it had struck Brian, and part of it had cut into her helmet. She whispered tearfully, “Jesus...”

“Yes, I suspect Jesus did have something to do with saving you tonight,” Kell murmured, placing the helmet aside. He saw the stark reality in her eyes, the understanding that she could have been decapitated if she’d been at a different angle in that cockpit. Just inches...

“I’m not a religious person,” Leah muttered, closing her eyes, remembering the blade slicing like a saber through the cockpit.

“All men find religion in foxholes,” he drawled. “Death makes for a lot of converts.”

Opening her eyes, she looked over at him. She was feeling better but only marginally. “I never told you who I was. I’m Leah Mackenzie. Thank you for saving my life.”

Heat coursed down through Kell. The expression in her eyes touched his heart. His whole damn body was on fire. No woman had ever affected him so powerfully. He could see the gratefulness in her green eyes, in the way her mouth went soft. So damned kissable. If only... He cleared his throat. “It’s nice to officially meet you, ma’am.”

“Don’t go there,” she protested. “Just call me Leah. Please?” She gave him a pleading look. “I don’t think the UCMJ is out here looking over our shoulders right now, do you?”

He managed a one-cornered grin. “No, I guess not. That’s a pretty name you have, Leah.”

“An old-fashioned name. I was named after my grandmother, who I loved so much.”

“Nothing wrong with being a bit old-fashioned,” he said. “I kind of like it.” Hell, he was devouring her with his eyes. Kell didn’t think she really knew how beautiful she was. There was no arrogance about her. No sense of entitlement that some gorgeous women demanded. She appeared homespun to him and that just added to his desire for her.

“How did you know my name?”

“When you were unconscious, I pulled out your dog tags.” He motioned to them hanging outside her flight suit. “I called my master chief, reported what happened. Told him I had you and gave him your name and number. I didn’t want your husband and the rest of your family thinking you’d died in that crash.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, the honesty and concern in his gaze, she admitted, “I don’t have a husband.” Thank God for small and large favors. “And my father—” she shrugged painfully, her whole body feeling massively bruised “—he’ll see this as a pain in his ass, one that I’ve always been to him. It’s just one more thing he’s got to ‘handle.’” Bitterness coated her tone. “I don’t know whether he’ll be relieved or not.”

Stunned by her admission, Kell sat down, crossing his legs, his long, spare hands resting over his knees. He saw grief in Leah’s eyes, even though she tried to sound tough, as if she didn’t care. But she did. He could feel it.

Kell couldn’t be dishonest with himself. He was glad to hear she wasn’t married, but that surprised the hell out of him. “I can’t think any parent wouldn’t want to know their child was safe.”

Mouth thinning, she sighed. “Not all families are happy families, Kell.”

“If you don’t have a husband, then maybe a significant other?”

“No.” Her voice hardened. “I don’t ever want to be in a marriage or a relationship ever again.”

Chills went through Kell. The look in her eyes was that of a trapped animal who hadn’t been able to escape. And then he remembered the name she’d cried out during the nightmare: Hayden. Was that her ex-husband? “What about a mother?”

“Dead,” Leah said, closing her eyes for a moment, wanting the pain in her head to reduce. “She’s better off that way.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Kell said, meaning it. When she opened her eyes, he saw moistness in them. “Listen, let me do a quick exam on you. If your pupils stay equal, I can get you some morphine to kill that pain.” He looked at his watch. It was 0530. It was June 2 and the sun would be rising early. They could stay awake or sleep. No. He desperately needed some more sleep.

“Sure,” Leah said. She watched Kell open the ruck. He pulled out a penlight. And then he got up on one knee, his large hand engulfing the right side of her face as he cradled her jaw. He leaned forward, maybe six inches between them.

“Just look at my nose,” he instructed. “I’m going to pass the light from one eye to the other. If all goes well, your eyes should dilate equally.”

Her cheek prickled with heat, his fingers rough, but somehow, incredibly gentle. Hayden had never touched her like that. Not ever. All he knew how to be toward her was rough and hurtful.

Leah kept her eyes trained on Kell’s intent face. He passed the light slowly from right to left. And then back again.

“You’re good to go,” he murmured, pleased, as he switched off the light. Kell wanted to keep his hand on her jaw. God help him, but he wanted to kiss Leah senseless. That mouth of hers, full, exquisitely shaped, was wreaking hell on his sense of control. Forcing himself to break contact with her, Kell leaned over and rummaged around for a syringe and another bottle. He put just enough morphine in it to dull pain while still keeping Leah alert, not sleepy.

Rubbing her upper arm with an alcohol wipe, he gave her the shot. “There, you’re going to feel a whole lot more perky in about ten minutes.” He gave her a warm smile and sat back down, putting the medical items back where they belonged.

“Thanks,” Leah whispered. “How did you know I was in pain?”

Shrugging, Kell murmured as he closed the ruck. “I sense it, I guess. Taken care of a number of my SEAL buddies in my platoon over the past nine years. I don’t know if I’m seeing it or feeling it. SEALs usually hide their pain, so I’d have to say it’s probably my gut instinct telling me.”

“Something I’m sure all you SEALs have in spades,” Leah said, watching the grace of his long fingers. Kell was boneless, she decided. Ruggedly handsome, in top athletic shape and very kind. That wasn’t the picture of a SEAL she’d expected. But then, Leah didn’t have that much contact with them, except to pick up and drop off teams. There was no time for chit-chat when that was happening. She saw he was tired.

“Maybe we could sleep for a while longer? I don’t know what your plan is for me.”

Lifting his head, Kell said, “We’ve got a whopping amount of Taliban all around us right now. They’re starting a push through the border area. My master chief said for us to sit tight if possible. It might take us days or maybe a week to get picked up. Either that, or try walking back into Bravo, which would be very dangerous.”

Staring at him like he’d grown two heads, Leah said, “What?” No rescue coming?

“We’re sandwiched in,” Kell explained, his voice becoming serious. “Master chief knows I know these mountains and caves better than anyone. And I was on a sniper op, waiting for an HVT when your crash occurred. He wants me to stick around to try to nail the HVT, and I want too, also.”

“Okay,” she said, understanding.

“You’ll be safe here,” Kell assured her. “And you aren’t in any serious medical condition, so the plan changed a bit. I need to take care of you, which I will, but I also have to nail that HVT. I’ve been sitting out here three weeks waiting for him.” He smiled a little. “What’s one more week? Besides, with that head injury of yours, the flight surgeon will put you on medical waiver for at least two to three weeks. You won’t be able to fly, anyway. Consider this a vacation of sorts.”

All that was true. Even now the pain was easing in her head and for that Leah was grateful to Kell, for his care and continued thoughtfulness. She had a deep, scary feeling that her entire life had just changed, but she couldn’t predict the outcome of it, or understand the challenges that would come with it as a result. Yet...

CHAPTER THREE

“ARE YOU HUNGRY?” Kell asked her. Leah looked pensive after he’d given her a seven-day sentence of remaining in this cave with him.

Rubbing her stomach, she said, “I think so. Not sure...”

“Shock,” he murmured. He pulled out a bottle of water and opened it for her. “Keep drinking all the fluids you can. I know you’re close to dehydration.”

Her fingers touched his. Leah was starved for Kell’s touch. Since when did she ever entertain the idea of any man ever touching her again? Hayden had cured her of that. Yet, she trusted Kell. And why shouldn’t she? She’d be dead now if not for his intervention. His heroism under fire, hauling her sorry ass out of that deadly situation, deserved a medal in her book.

Leah drank deeply. How did Kell know she was near dehydration? Was the man a mind reader? Was it his large, thoughtful-looking gray eyes that gleamed with intelligence? The natural kindness that glowed in their depths?

She watched Kell get up and, with lanky strides, leave the cave, make a right turn and disappear down a tunnel.

Realizing there was more light in the cave, Leah looked up. Just above her was a huge hole in the cave wall. And it was filtering in dawn light. Leah felt a sense of relief after the overwhelming blackness. Kell returned with some items in his large hands.

“Breakfast,” he said, opening up an MRE and setting it in her lap. “You need to eat whether you feel like it or not. This cave is about as safe as it gets, but it’s never totally safe. Today, I need you to eat, drink and sleep.”

He was all business now. Leah could see he had a mental checklist of things he had to do. After all, he was a sniper. And he had other fish to fry besides babysitting her. Lamenting the loss of his warmth and attention, Leah set the half-emptied water bottle beside her. “Thanks,” she said.

Kell watched her mouth tighten. It was her left arm. “Tell you what,” he said, rising and moving to his ruck. “I’m going to fashion you a sling so you can get that arm parallel to your body. The more the arm hangs down, the more blood collects in the lower part of it, which makes for a lot more pain and swelling.” He opened the ruck and pulled out a sealed plastic bag that contained a dark green triangular cotton cloth folded up in it.

Leah watched him, mesmerized by his grace, those long fingers of his quick to fashion a triangle out of the light cotton fabric. He knelt down on one knee, gently placing the sling beneath her left forearm. His face was inches from hers as he brought the ends up and quickly tied them behind the nape of her neck. He smelled of sweat, dirt and male. It did something internally to Leah; as if some primitive part of her were responding to his nearness, her body reacting to his earthy male scent. Something she’d never noticed with another man before.

“There,” Kell murmured, looking pleased with his efforts. “How does your arm feel now, Leah?”

She felt her heart open just a crack as her name rolled softly from his lips. It sounded like a prayer. A beautiful prayer. “I-it feels good, Kell.” She looked up into his hooded eyes and gave him a grateful look. “I feel spoiled, to tell you the truth. You’ve taken such good care of me. Thank you...”

He gave her a lazy smile. “Medics are like that,” he drawled, easing to his feet, shutting up the ruck and then sitting down near her. He opened the MRE for her and warmed the food in the heating pouch.

“I’ve never been on the receiving end of a combat medic before,” Leah admitted. Now, with her arm in a sling, she only had one good hand and found herself fumbling with the other packets.

The next moment, Kell was kneeling next to her, his knee nearly touching her thigh. It happened so fast, so silently, that Leah began to realize what SEAL meant. The man moved like a shadow. She’d been focused on trying to open the packet of food, distracted, and he’d just shown up like magic at her side.

“Let me do that,” he murmured, taking the bag. He tore it open, looked at the rest of the MRE and got everything open and available for her to eat after it was heated up. He took the plastic utensils out of their wrapper, as well.

“I’m not used to feeling helpless,” Leah muttered uncomfortably, giving him an apologetic look.

“Everyone needs to lean on someone at some point,” Kell said philosophically, easing back to where his MRE sat. Leaning up against the wall, one long leg hitched up, he quickly consumed everything in the MRE.

Leah thought about his words, slowly testing the food. If her stomach rebelled, she was not going to eat even if Kell wanted her to. Somehow, she knew he’d understand.