Gently, he pulled her away enough to meet and smile into her happy emerald eyes. “Where’s Gib and Dany?”
“At home.” Tess smiled back. “They said they’d meet you at the ranch.” And then she blushed even more. “I think they wanted us to have some privacy.”
Pete looked around, at all the prying eyes in the small airport watching them. He grinned. “We’ve definitely got an audience.”
“Oh, dear.”
Pete reveled in Tess’s innocence as he leaned down to retrieve his satchel. The first thing he wanted to do was to get out of his uniform. Some of the people staring at them were scowling with obvious dislike for it. Not wanting Tess to be the target of anyone’s opinion, he put his arm around her shoulders and she fell in step at his side.
“Let’s get my duffel bag and get out of here,” he told her.
Tess wasn’t unaware of Pete’s reasons for wanting to leave the terminal. Vietnam had erupted into a full-fledged war without ever being officially declared, and the country was more divided, more vocal on both sides, than ever before. With a nod, she led him toward the small baggage-claim area.
“You look tired.”
“It was all that flight time,” Pete said. The duffel bag was there and he released her and picked up the long, bulky piece of military gear, slinging it across his left shoulder. Gripping Tess’s hand, he led her out the glass doors into the hot, dry Texas sun. It must have been nearly a hundred degrees in the shade, but Pete didn’t care. Anything was better than the humid heat of Vietnam. He could survive this kind of dry heat a hell of a lot easier.
Tess led him to the white Ford pickup, coated with a light film of yellow dust. Pete slung the duffel into the rear of the vehicle and climbed into the cab. He was glad that Tess was going to drive. Exhaustion lapped at his senses.
“Heaven,” he sighed, closing his eyes as Tess started the truck and drove out of the parking lot.
“You’re heaven,” Tess said. She glanced at Pete from time to time as she drove out of Midland toward the ranch. The black strip of asphalt wavered in the rising heat. The surrounding yellow desert was sparsely dotted with hardy dark green sagebrush. The pickup windows were open, and hot wind moved through the cab. Pete’s eyes were closed, his head tipped back against the seat.
“The guest bedroom is ready. Once we get home, you can take a bath and hit the bed. I think you need twenty-four hours of uninterrupted sleep,” Tess told him.
Pete rolled his head to the left and drank in Tess’s profile. “Yeah, I could use some sleep.” With you at my side. But he didn’t say it. He couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe never. He reached and captured her hand, which was resting on her long, curved thigh. Her hand was darkly tanned and work-worn. It was obvious she had returned to the land; she radiated health. He squeezed her fingers tenderly. “More important, how are you doing?”
She smiled, dividing her attention between the nearly empty highway and Pete. “I’m doing okay. I think my letters reflected my state. I still have bad days, sometimes a bad week, but not so much any more. Thanks to Sandy’s guidance and your letters.” Tess’s voice dropped. “Your letters—all of them—were wonderful, Pete. I don’t think I’d be half as well if you hadn’t been there with your support, your love.”
It was Pete’s turn to blush. “Honey, your letters meant the world to me over there.”
“I didn’t make you worry too much, did I?”
He shook his head. Tess had written weekly—long, five-or-ten-page handwritten letters, painstakingly honest and unflinchingly realistic about her healing process. God, how he’d look forward to receiving them. Sometimes, because of the war buildup, mail was delayed a couple of weeks, and then Pete would become a miserable son of a bitch to be around. “You were a lifeline,” he said seriously. The joy reflected in her eyes at his admission made Pete feel as if he owned the world.
“You were no less mine,” Tess said, never wanting to let go of his hand.
His gaze moved to her slender throat, glistening with perspiration from the ovenlike heat that surrounded them. “I see you’re still wearing my ring.”
“I only take it off when I bathe,” Tess confessed, and she touched the ring at the base of her throat with reverence. She frowned, but said nothing. Pete closed every one of his letters with “love,” but he’d never mentioned marriage, or even a possible engagement after his return. It bothered Tess, and she wondered privately where she really stood with him. What did he ultimately want from their relationship? Had he been supporting her all this time as a friend, perhaps, instead of wanting to get as serious as she felt about what they shared? Was it out of some kind of guilt? Tess didn’t know, and the worry had gnawed repeatedly at her the past months.
“You didn’t worry too much about me, did you?” Pete probed.
Tess shrugged. “A little.”
“I didn’t pick it up in your letters.”
“I’m glad.” And then she leveled with Pete. “I got so I hated the national news on television, showing film clips of Vietnam every night. Whenever they showed the Da Nang area, I broke out into a heavy sweat. Of course, I hoped to see you on film, but never did. Then I’d be so upset that I couldn’t sleep. I’d have recurring nightmares about officers coming to the ranch house to inform me that you were missing in action or dead.”
Pete lifted Tess’s hand to his lips and gently kissed her palm. The change in her eyes was instantaneous, exciting. Pete stopped himself from going further. “I’m sorry you had to go through that hell,” he whispered, cradling her hand between his.
“It was a lot less than you went through.” Tess shrugged. “I’ve never been on such a nonstop roller coaster as the last two and a half years of my life.”
“Nam will do it to you,” Pete agreed tiredly, and he tipped his head back once more. It felt good to hold Tess’s hand. “But I’m home now. For good.”
Tears jammed into Tess’s eyes and she fought them back. Gripping Pete’s hand, she whispered, “I can’t believe you’re here. It’s like a dream…. You’re here. You’re really here.”
*
Pete jerked awake, a scream ready to tear from his lips. He sat up in bed, breathing heavily, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. Shakily he tried to reorient himself. He looked around the shadowy room. Wait. He was in Texas, not Marble Mountain. He listened intently, his body trembling, adrenaline pumping wildly through his bloodstream. No. No, it wasn’t a rocket attack. It was only a dream. He was safe. Safe.
Pushing the damp sheet aside, the covers soaked with his sweat, Pete swung his legs across the bed. The cool wood of the floor against his feet helped bring him back to the present. Rubbing his face with trembling hands, he sat for a long time. Slowly, the night sounds of crickets chirping to one another impinged upon his consciousness. Thin streamers of light from a quarter moon glimmered through the transparent white curtains at the open window, filling the room with a grayish glow.
Naked, Pete stood and walked over to the window. A slight breeze shifted the curtains as he looked out on the darkened world of the Ramsey ranch. Below was the lawn, surrounded by a white picket fence. To the right, several pens held Herefords standing around or lying down. Everything was quiet. Peaceful.
Pete’s heart still slammed in his chest like a runaway freight train. Turning, he glanced at his watch’s luminous dial. It was 3:00 a.m. Rubbing his chest, Pete headed to the shower next to his bedroom. He felt hot and sticky, and wanted to wash away the nightmare that still held him in its insidious grip.
Afterward, Pete dried off and wrapped the white towel around his hips. No one would be up at this hour, and he wanted to make a cup of coffee to calm his jittery nerves. In Nam, no one wore pajamas or a robe. He’d usually been either in his flight suit or naked as hell. Opening the door, Pete looked down the hall both ways before he stepped out. Everyone was asleep.
Across the hall Tess’s door was closed. Pete had such a fierce desire to open it and seek the security of her arms. He was
trembling badly, and he knew only Tess’s strength would help calm him. Halting, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. No, he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t take advantage of Tess without her knowing the full truth of his actions.
With a muffled sound, Pete turned and quickly walked down the hall. Memories of Nam haunted him like harpy eagles wheeling around him. Coffee always helped to calm him. When he’d returned to Nam after being home with Tess, he’d quit going to the O club to drink beer or whiskey. Instead, he’d chosen coffee over alcohol, and with good reason. He’d seen what it had done to Tess, and he had no desire to be driven to that limit.
Padding quietly through the living room, Pete headed for the kitchen. He jerked to a halt at the doorway. Tess was sitting at the darkened table with a cup in her hands.
“Tess.”
She looked up. Pete stood tensely in the doorway, his face and body deeply etched by moonlight and darkness. “Pete…”
He hesitated, his heart starting to pound unrelentingly. Tess was dressed in a dark jade silk robe, her hair loose and framing her face. She looked excruciatingly beautiful bathed in the moonlight shining through the kitchen windows.
“I…uh—”
“Nightmares?” Tess guessed softly, getting up and coming around the table. Her heart was skittering as she took in his magnificently taut body. The white towel hung low on his hips, barely grazing his knees. Being around Pete dissolved her thinking processes, and Tess reacted out of instinct, from her heart.
Pete’s eyes widened as Tess approached. He caught a whiff of her wonderful womanly scent. If she touched him, if she—
Without speaking, Tess lifted her arms and placed them around Pete. The instant she glided against his firm, trembling body, his arms wrapped around her like hard steel bands. The air rushed out of her lungs as he gripped her and buried his face in her thick hair. Whispering his name, Tess held him as strongly as she could. Pete’s trembling gradually dissolved as the moments spun to a halt. All Tess was aware of was their mutual, ragged breathing, their hearts pounding in crazy unison, and the smooth, firm warmth of him as a man pressed against her.
“I love you so much,” she quavered, closing her eyes and simply holding him.
“I need you. God, I need you so much, Tess,” he growled rawly.
“It’s going to be all right. The shaking will stop soon, I promise….”
How long Pete stood in the doorway with Tess in his arms, he didn’t know. Miraculously, Tess’s promise came true, and finally he lifted his head enough to meet her dark, lustrous eyes. He nodded.
“I didn’t think I’d have nightmares,” he confided.
She smiled sadly. “With time, they won’t come as often—or be as potent.” Sliding her hand across his shoulder, she felt the dampness of perspiration on his flesh. “Would you like a cup of tea? That’s what I was having.”
“Coffee?”
“Sure.” Tess hated to part from him, and saw the same feeling mirrored in his smoky blue eyes. “I couldn’t sleep, either,” she confessed with a slight smile.
“You had nightmares, too?” Pete asked, finally releasing Tess. He took the chair next to where she’d been sitting. Like a starving man, he watched as she walked to the counter to make him coffee, her movements economical yet graceful.
Wryly, Tess glanced across her shoulder at him. “I couldn’t sleep because you were right across the hall from me. My dreams…thoughts…weren’t exactly what I’d term nightmares.”
Pete managed a faint smile. “More torrid than bad?” he guessed huskily.
“Very torrid. And all about you—and me.”
Heat and longing avalanched through Pete’s entire body. Tess turned away, and though there was very little light, he could tell she was blushing. Rubbing his face, Pete knew he couldn’t go on this way any longer. “Look,” he rasped, “there’s something I need to own up to, Tess. Something we’ve got to clear up between us before…well, before we can plan a future together.”
Tess felt her heart twinge with real fear. She plugged in the coffee maker and came and sat down next to Pete. She saw the grimness in his eyes and the set of his mouth. His hair was tousled, and beads of perspiration still dotted his broad forehead. “Whatever it is,” she whispered, gripping his folded hands on the table, “we’ll take it together. Like we did in the past. One day at a time, Pete. One problem at a time.”
A fierce wave of love replaced his fear momentarily. Pete unfolded his hands and captured her long, slender fingers between his, rubbing them against his cheek. “I’ve never loved a woman like I love you,” Pete admitted thickly, “so I’m on quicksand, Tess. I’m scared as hell of telling you this—of what it might do to what we have, to what I want for us.” He lifted his head and met her warm, tender gaze.
“Tell me,” she urged softly.
Pete couldn’t meet the compassion and love in her eyes. He dropped his gaze to their entwined hands on the table. “I saw you going downhill in Nam,” he began in a hoarse voice, “and I loved you so damned much I was going crazy with worry. I knew you had to get out of there, that Nam was killing you a little piece at a time.” Taking a deep, unsteady breath, Pete dove on. “So I contacted a friend of mine in the government, a buddy. He owed me a big favor from years ago. I told him about you, how I loved you and wanted you out of Nam because of your emotional condition.”
Lifting his head, Pete forced himself to meet and hold Tess’s shadowy gaze. His hand tightened perceptibly around hers. “My friend promised to wangle a set of orders from the US AID department to get you transferred out of Vietnam to Stateside duty.” Pete’s mouth went dry as he saw first surprise, then anguish in Tess’s eyes. “He owed me, and he gave me what I wanted. That’s when your supervisor flew up from Saigon with the set of orders.”
“You did that?” Tess cried softly.
Pete’s grip tightened on her hand, her cry serrating his heart, triggering the worst of his fears. “Yeah,” he said heavily. “I was the one responsible for getting you home. I’m not sorry I did it, Tess. I am sorry for the reactions it triggered. I—I didn’t know that would happen. I’ve felt like hell about it. I didn’t mean to hurt you more than you were hurting already.”
Tess got up suddenly, pulling her hand free. She moved to the counter, her emotions in violent turmoil. The kitchen was quiet save for her ragged breathing. Gripping the cool counter, she stared blindly out the window into the darkness. Minutes rolled by and the silence deepened.
Pete got up, the chair scraping against the white tile floor, the sound grating against his taut nerves. He moved over to where Tess stood, tense and unmoving. Wanting to touch her shoulder but not daring to, he allowed his arm to drop.
“I did it because I loved you, Tess,” he rasped. Her profile was filled with suffering, her mouth pulled into a line of pain. “I knew you had battle fatigue, and I knew that if you didn’t get out of there soon, you’d crack up. Honey, I didn’t want that to happen.”
Tess jerked a look in his direction. To her surprise, she saw agony in Pete’s eyes. But it was her pain, not his. Some of her anger dissolved. “Why didn’t you give me a choice, Pete? Why didn’t you come clean from the start? What you did was sneaky and underhanded!”
Wincing at the truth of her words, Pete hung his head. He stared down at his feet. “Yeah,” he admitted roughly, “it was sneaky and underhanded.”
“You didn’t trust me with the truth.”
Pete shook his head. “No, I didn’t. You were too committed to your villagers, Tess. I made a command decision based on knowing you, the situation and my gut response to it.” Looking up, he held her angry, accusing gaze. “Just try and keep in mind why I did it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you because it’s hurt you—and what I want for us.” He opened his hands. “Honey, you taught me how to quit running. But in another way, you were running at that time, too.”
“How?” Tess demanded scratchily, wiping the tears angrily from her eyes.
“There’s such a thing as getting overinvolved in something, Tess,” Pete said heavily, “and that’s a form of extremism. To me, that’s another form of running. You get so enmeshed in what you’re doing, you disregard your own emotional and physical needs, driving yourself at breakneck speed toward that wall at the other end. You don’t know when to stop, when to rest or when to step away from it. I was running away from commitment. You were running toward commitment to the extent that it was beginning to destroy you. And no commitment, no matter what it is, should do that to a person.”
His words fell hard on Tess. Her eyes blurred with tears, and a wealth of new and startling emotions roiled through her as she stared up at Pete in the darkness. Moments jagged by, creating a gulf between them.
Finally, Tess touched her trembling lower lip with her fingers.
Pete groaned and reached out, but Tess backed away from him. His heart plunged with fear. His worst nightmare was coming true. The tears tracking down her cheeks tore at him and he stood there, helpless.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry I hurt you like this, Tess. My intentions were good, but it backfired on me—on you. God, I love you. Maybe my love, however twisted or screwed up it is, fouled my ability to see things…us…clearly. I never loved before, Tess. I never allowed a woman inside those walls you saw around me. You gave me the faith to begin to trust a woman again, to trust you. I did, all the way. I never knew love could be like this—the euphoria I’d feel sometimes when I’d think of you…or the fear I’d feel knowing I had to tell you the truth and what it might do to our relationship. God, Tess, I’m sorry. I guess I still don’t know what real love is all about, because look what I’ve done to you…to what we might have had—” He whirled around and stalked out of the kitchen, hearing Tess’s sobs behind him, each one tearing him apart just a little more.
*
The first light of dawn stained the east as Pete stood by the corral full of lowing Herefords and their calves. The metal was cool against his damp hands as he gripped the pipe fence, watching dawn blossom from gray to a deep purple, then red, and finally a pale gold high in the cloudless sky. He was immune to the beauty that surrounded him, enmeshed in his own suffering, the web of deceit he’d spun for Tess and himself. He could still hear the way her sobs had sounded as he’d rushed down the hall to his bedroom to get dressed and escape from the house.
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