One Man's War

by Lindsay McKenna

  Tess quickly caught up with Pete. “I can’t believe this! What other things did you bring?”

  “Oh, just odds and ends I found.”

  At the jeep, Tess halted, her mouth dropping open. There were ten half sheets of plywood in the back of the vehicle. In another cardboard box were six colorful comforters, in quiltlike patterns. The third box contained six marine-issue green Snoopy blankets, in camouflage jungle green-and-brown, a blend of nylon quilted with an inner layer of polyester down. Tess was speechless.

  Pete felt an incredible tidal wave of pleasure sweep through him as he saw the effects his gifts had on Tess. She was like a child at Christmas. He patted the plywood.

  “After looking at your hut, which is more like a sieve than a house, I figured plywood walls would be best.” He pointed to the box of comforters. “And all you had to lie on are those lousy grass mats. You’re sleeping on a dirt floor, for all intents and purposes. At least now you’ll be able to have some padding under you and a blanket to throw on top of you when it gets chilly in the early morning hours.”

  Pete’s thoughtfulness overwhelmed Tess, and she fought back tears of gratitude. Some of the harshness had left his features, and she saw a little boy standing in front of her, wanting so badly to please his mother, wanting so badly to be held and loved for what he’d gotten her. All of these realizations cascaded through Tess: how much Pete needed to be held and loved, to be told he was worthwhile and needed. The only way he knew to get approval was to buy someone with gifts.

  Sadness moved through Tess as she gently touched the comforters and then the blankets. “You are,” she whispered unsteadily, on the verge of tears, “an angel of mercy, Pete Mallory.” And without thinking, she put her arms around his neck, drew him close and simply held him. She buried her head next to his jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  A shattering sensation broke around Pete’s heart as Tess went slowly into his arms. This time she didn’t move away. This time, her loving body filled with a strength he craved, she remained within his tightening embrace. Closing his eyes, Pete savored her length against him, as if she were a prayer that had finally been answered. A ragged sigh tore from him and his nostrils flared to take in her very feminine scent. It was a perfume far more dizzying and beautiful than the orchids that clung to the trees in the jungles.

  Just her simple act, an act of innocence, made him savor Tess as he had no other woman. Pete felt the rapid beat of her heart against his chest wall, the firmness of her small breasts. He was wildly aware of the shallow rise and fall of her breathing, and even more aware of how Tess fit beautifully—perfectly—against his tall frame.

  Tess slowly extricated herself from Pete’s tight embrace. Shocked by her own impulsive gesture, she touched her flaming cheek as she looked shyly up into his hooded eyes, smoldering with raw need of her. “I—I’m sorry…I don’t know what happened….”

  “I’m not sorry at all,” Pete rasped, his voice roughened with desire. Tess looked incredibly vulnerable right now, wide open for any attack he might make on her. But something stopped him from taking advantage of her—for now. She was shaken. So was he.

  The moment was broken when the shortwave radio in the jeep began to squawk. Cursing the bad timing, Pete picked it up and called in.

  Tess stepped away and crossed her arms, as if to hold herself together after the unexpected embrace. Disappointment washed through her: Pete was needed immediately back at base to fly an urgent mission.

  Apologetically, Pete put the radio on the seat of the jeep. He began to transfer the goods from the vehicle and Tess pitched in to help him. “Sorry I can’t stay, Tess.”

  “I am, too,” she admitted. They placed the sheets of plywood against the trunk of a rubber tree. In moments, the jeep was unloaded. Tess wiped her dusty hands against the thighs of her uniform. “Will it be dangerous, this mission?”

  Pete shrugged, not wanting to leave. The need to capture Tess’s provocative mouth was real, overriding. “I don’t know.”

  “Well,” she cast about, “Gib said you guys fly one mission a day. This would be your second one.”

  Forcing himself to climb into the jeep, Pete started up the cantankerous vehicle. “Don’t worry about me, honey. I’m too damn mean to die. Didn’t you know? Only the good die young. I’m going to be around until I’m a dirty old man of ninety.”

  She laughed and stepped away from the jeep. “You’re such a hard case, Mallory. When will I see you again?”

  Pete grinned belatedly. “When do you want to see me?”

  “As soon as possible. I could use another set of strong, capable hands to turn that plywood into a small room we could use as a school.”

  With a groan, Pete complained, “So you only want me for my body.”

  It was her turn to smile. “Isn’t that what you only want from me? What an interesting turn of the tables….”

  In that instant, Pete liked Tess more than ever. She had spunk and wit, not to mention an unquenchable spirit. He laughed. “All’s fair in love and war, and honey, we’re in a war. I’ll drop by and loan you myself as soon as possible. Okay?”

  Sobering, Tess said, “Be careful, Pete.”

  “I always am.”

  “No, I mean, be really careful.”

  “For you, I will be, honey. See you later.”

  Tess watched the jeep disappear, leaving a cloud of reddish dust in its wake. So much was happening to her when it came to Pete. He was incredibly complex—one moment the jokester; the next, hauntingly human and emotionally fragile. Turning around, Tess looked at all the equipment he’d brought. A number of children had come up to eagerly sift through the contents and finger the soft, clean material. Their faces were filled with awe over the array of rainbow colors. With a shake of her head, Tess moved toward the expectant and excited children.

  “You’re something else, mister. Something else,” she muttered, hoping against hope that she would see Pete much sooner rather than later.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “You’re turning into a bear,” Gib Ramsey noted of Pete as they slowly walked off the tarmac toward the line shack to finish off their flight reports. The afternoon sun beat down thickly upon them. Pete’s flight suit clung damply to his body.

  “Yeah, well, this damn Tinkertoy war is getting to me,” he griped. “Since I last saw your sister two weeks ago, we’ve been flying three to four missions a day. I haven’t had any time off to go visit her.” Pete ignored the constant movement of trucks and men, and jets taking off in the distance. Fatigue lapped at him, but despite it, his thought and, incredibly, his heart, centered on Tess. “And she never stays at Da Nang at night. What’s with her, anyway?” If Tess would come back to the base at night, Pete would have ample opportunity to see her, to chase her. It would be easy to take a jeep from Marble Mountain and drive over to the main marine facility a few miles away.

  With a laugh, Gib slowed his walk as they approached the line shack. “Now you know how I feel. I wish she’d stay here at night, too—for different reasons.” Gib gave Pete a significant look laced with amusement. “But Tess is committed to her villages and the people in them.”

  “She’s a one-woman show out in the bush,” Pete muttered, opening the creaking screen door to the stuffy line shack. A number of other pilots were already at the counter filling out discrepancy logs for the crew chiefs. Pete and Gib went to the small refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of soda pop.

  “I get concerned about her,” Gib admitted.

  “She could walk on a damned land mine out in a rice paddy at any time,” Pete said. “Or get shot at by these VC snipers that are cropping up more and more every day.”

  “Or get kidnapped by the VC.”

  Scratching his damp hair, Pete pursed his lips. “She’s trying to do too much. Last time I was there, she was playing doctor. Isn’t being an agricultural advisor enough?”

  Gib shook his head. “No argument from me, but Tess has a great love of these pe
ople. I worry about her. This place has really drained her emotionally. I wish she hadn’t signed up for a second tour. She needs a rest….”

  Sourly, Pete looked around. “Well, if you ask me, these gooks aren’t worth that kind of attention. They live in the Stone Age, they’re backward…. They don’t even have plumbing in their homes, or a commode!”

  Frowning, Gib said, “Look, Pete, I know you don’t like the Vietnamese but don’t call them gooks. At least, not in front of me.”

  Warned, Pete sank into silence. He reminded himself that Ramsey was exactly like his sister: a sucker for the underdogs of the world. After they’d finished debriefing and were walking back to the headquarters tent, Pete decided to test Gib.

  “Hey, let me have permission to drive over to Le My. I want to see if Tess has got those pieces of plywood up.”

  Ramsey shrugged. “Go ahead. Ask Tess if she’ll consider coming in tonight. Tell her I’d like to see her and catch up on what she’s been doing out there.”

  The gloom that had surrounded Pete immediately dissolved. With a grin, he said, “Yes, sir, Major.” Rubbing his hands together, Pete could hardly wait to see how his gifts had made Tess’s life easier. How would she respond to him? Would she be glad to see him?

  On the way over in the jeep, Pete frowned at himself. Since when had he ever felt this good about seeing a woman? His heart felt expanded, and happiness kept throbbing through him, catching him off guard. Trying to tell himself it was the “chase” that had him so pumped up, Pete ignored the other possibilities. All he wanted—no, needed—was to see Tess again. What a lucky bastard he was.

  *

  Pete went straight to Tess’s hut at the far end of the village. The children, half-naked, skinny, their eyes dancing with joy, ran all around him. Ordinarily, Pete hated the kids following him, but something was changing inside him, and he permitted them to hang around him.

  “You’re a bunch of little ragamuffins,” he told them.

  They looked up at him with wide smiles on their faces.

  “Poor rug-rats,” he added.

  More smiles.

  With a grimace, Pete dug into the pocket of his flight suit and threw out five packs of gum and some chocolate bars. As the gifts hit the red dirt, the children scampered after the treasure.

  By the time he got to Tess’s hut, Pete was alone. Behind him, he heard the screeches, laughter and shouts of the children vying for the cherished gum and candy. He tried to ignore the good feeling his lousy little present to the kids had created.

  “Tess? It’s Pete….” He pulled the orange curtain aside. A frown gathered. She wasn’t home, but then neither were any of the gifts he’d given her. The same old worn rice mats were on the floor, and the sides of the hut were just as breezy as before. What had she done with the supplies?

  Turning, Pete spotted Tess coming into the village, her black cotton pants rolled above her knees, her legs and bare feet glistening with water. She’d just come out of a rice paddy, no doubt. Even in that god-awful bamboo hat she insisted on wearing and her baggy Vietnamese clothes, she looked lovely in his eyes. Her red hair was caught up in a ponytail. He watched with studied intensity to see what kind of expression she’d have on her face when she realized he’d come to see her.

  “Pete!” Tess’s heart leaped wildly, and she automatically raised her hand. He stood uncertainly by the opening of her hut, a frown on his handsome features. With a laugh, she moved into a loping trot, covering the distance more quickly. As she drew near, Tess took off the bamboo hat and ruefully touched her hair, sure to need a brushing.

  “Hi, there!” she greeted warmly, coming up to where he stood. Under one arm he had a package. “This is a wonderful surprise. When did you get here?”

  Hungrily, Pete drank in Tess’s open, glowing features. Momentarily, he lost his voice. How could she possibly have grown more lovely in these two long, miserable weeks? She had. All the sourness he felt washed away beneath her welcoming smile. He wanted nothing more in life than to taste those deliciously curved lips.

  “Hi…just a few minutes ago.” He jabbed a thumb toward her hut. “Hey, where’s all that plywood and stuff I brought to you? You were supposed to take them for yourself.”

  With a laugh, Tess ducked into her hut. “I did. Come on in for a moment.”

  Grudgingly, Pete followed her. Tess set her hat down on a rice mat and then knelt before a large, rusty tin bowl. She poured water in it from a chipped ceramic pitcher and sluiced the liquid over her face, neck and arms. She used the towel—if the cotton rag could be called that—to pat her skin dry.

  “Actually,” Tess said, glancing up at him as she dried her cheek with the towel, “all of it has been used.”

  “Not here,” he protested.

  “Others needed it a lot worse than I did, Pete.”

  Unhappily, he sat down cross-legged on one of the rice mats where he could watch her. Each of her movements was economical; there was no wasted motion about Tess. “What about you?”

  “I get along fine with what I have here. Don’t look so unhappy, Pete. The comforters were distributed to six mothers with babies. The Snoopy blankets went to several families who had nothing.”

  “And the plywood?”

  “Remember? I told you we’d use them to start building a school?”

  Glumly, Pete nodded. He handed her the sack. “Here, this is for you, not these damned people.”

  She quickly dried her hands and hung the towel up on a nail driven into one of the main beams of the hut. The paper sack was badly wrinkled and she smiled.

  “What have you scrounged up now?” Tess came and sat down next to him, the sack resting on her crossed legs.

  “Some little things,” Pete hedged, trying to pretend not to be too interested in her excitement.

  “Jams! Jellies! And look at this: all kinds of makeup!” Tess looked over at him, once again struck by the expression on his features. She placed the six jars of preserves to one side. “These I can definitely use.”

  “You use them. Don’t you dare give them away.”

  She grinned. “Now, Pete, if you give a gift to me, it’s mine, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I have the right to use it any way I see fit. Right?”

  He didn’t like the merriment in her dancing green eyes. “You’re leading up to something.”

  With a chuckle, Tess nodded. “I’ll keep one jar, but I’ll share the rest with the people.”

  With a sigh, Pete shook his head. “What about the cosmetics? I even managed to get some Chanel perfume for you. And there’s lipstick in there, not to mention makeup.”

  Wryly, Tess held his gaze. “First of all, the water buffalo go crazy if I `smell’ like an American. When I first came over here, I used to wear lipstick and a little dab of perfume. The first water buffalo I encountered tossed his horned head, snorted and charged me. Later, after I climbed down out of the nearest tree, the village chieftain told me they hated the odor. I also found out that the mosquitoes and other insects loved my perfume, and I ended up with more bites per square inch on my body than you could believe.” She smiled softly and touched the makeup. “To tell you the truth, Pete, I’ve never been one for much makeup. Remember? I was that string bean of a Texas girl who hid away in her dorm studying and making good grades instead of partying like the prettier, more popular girls?”

  Disgruntled, Pete stared down at his clasped hands. Any of the Viet women at the O club would have been thrilled with these presents. “I thought all women used makeup.”

  “Some do, Pete. I just never did.” Tess pointed to her copper freckles. “I kinda like the natural look.” She laughed gently. “Look at me! I don’t think very many American women would approve of what I do or how I look. I can’t say I blame them, but I’m happy.”

  She was. Pete drowned in her rich verdant eyes, hotly aware of her ability to share her incredible warmth with him. The ache in his body heightened to a painful degree. How many
times in the last two weeks had he dreamed of bedding down with Tess, taking her? Too many.

  “Well,” he groused, rallying as he took the paper bag back into his hand, “I know some bar girls who will kill for this stuff.”

  “Oh,” Tess hooted, getting to her feet, “and I imagine you’ll extract a price from them for it, too.”

  He grinned. “Everything in life has a price tag on it. Can I help it if I’m great at exchanging goods?” He stood. “Your brother would like you to come back with me. He needs to see you.”

  Tess nodded and released her red hair, brushing it quickly. “I do owe Gib a visit. Time goes by so fast out here, Pete. There’s so much to do.”

  Pete reveled in the sight of Tess brushing her rich, red hair. Even in the half light of the thatched hut, he could see highlights in the strands. The ache to tunnel his fingers through that thick, shoulder-length mass seized him.

  “Like what?” His voice had thickened.

  Tess quickly rewrapped her hair with a rubber band, the ponytail back in place. She leaned down and filled her ever-present green knapsack with a few articles. “Well, I’m trying to get the local Vietnamese government to approve my application for a pump. The people in Le My have a lousy water source that carries raw sewage in it, and I’ve gotten them to dig a well. We hit water today, and now, if I could get my hands on some pipe and a pump, they’d use it.” She frowned and turned back toward him, the knapsack slung across her shoulder. “Of course, that means a generator to generate electricity, otherwise the pump wouldn’t work. Sometimes it all seems so impossible. I don’t want them drinking that filthy water. I can’t get them to understand that it’s causing disease among them.”

  “What if you did have a generator and a pump?” Pete asked, walking at her side as they left her hut. The hot midafternoon sun poured through the village, with no trees to give shade.