Redheads were his weakness, often his kryptonite. Even so, he was drawn to them. His last encounter with a feisty redhead had been nearly nine months ago back in London. Becky was Emma’s best friend and Emma was now Nate’s wife. By the time the wedding had taken place two months past, that relationship had already been dead in the water for six months. Becky decided she didn’t like dating a soldier and found someone new. The abrupt ending hadn’t broken his heart, but after seeing Nate and Emma’s relationship blossom into true love, it struck Doc just how many times he’d been down this road, always dating, but never quite connecting.
When that lock of red hair slipped loose of its confinement, it was like a signal from the universe, at least, he hoped so. Eight months without female companionship was too long in his estimation. That's when he began watching her. She was cool under pressure, her hands sure and steady. She stood about 5 foot 3 inches and he was sure that beneath the surgical scrubs he remembered a petite yet athletic figure. Doc sized her up while the surgeon saved Sergeant Harold Tyler’s balls. His scrutiny was so focused that the weight of it was palpable.
Leisl glanced up and caught him watching her. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.
“Swab,” said Major Ross.
Leisl swabbed the patient’s skin, cleaning the drops of blood from the incision. The surgeon extended his hand to Angie Nelson who handed him the needle already threaded. Major Ross began stitching Eastwood’s skin back together. In no time, the operation was completed.
The major wiped his brow with the back of his forearm. He turned to Doc. “Your friend is going to be okay.” He paused, looking down at the patient. “It was messy, but thankfully, not serious. However, had that bullet gone just half and inch to the right the femoral artery would’ve been shredded. I don’t think he would’ve made it in that case. There’s some surface damage to the right testicle, but it’s not deep. I don’t believe he’ll suffer any sterility. Even so, the left testicle is fine. There will be some scarring, but he’s intact and should heal. That young man has balls of steel. Better that they took the bullet and not the other scenario.”
Doc let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “That’s good news. I’ll remind him if he ever complains about it.”
Leisl stepped off to the far side of the bay, breaking scrub while the secondary team worked to move Eastwood to recovery. She turned to the conversation as she pealed the gown and surgical gloves from her arms and hands. The soldier called Doc was talking to Major Ross, but he was smiling at her. Dimples peeked out from his ruggedly handsome cheeks. His brown eyes found hers again and this time she noticed his absurdly long eyelashes. She felt sure that smile had seen quite a bit of practice, and while she acknowledge he was very good-looking, his charm failed to penetrate the fog of her own problems. Leisl threw her scrubs into the bin and turned, exiting the bay.
Outside the cool, dry air cleared her head. The last dying rays of the sun painted the sky in shades of amber, amethyst, and gold. It was a beautiful sunset, and at that moment she felt she could be anywhere in the world and not in a desert in Kuwait a stone’s throw away from war.
This time she wasn't alone. Pooch came running as soon as she stepped outside stopping at her side and waiting for her hand, which he knew would reach out and give him the scratches behind his ears that he so loved. She had come upon Pooch on her third day in Kuwait. The starving, sickly stray puppy would surely have died if she hadn't found him. Everyone told her to leave him be. Let nature take its course, but she didn’t listen. In between her duties Leisl hand-fed the pup scraps from her meals until he regained strength. She'd named him Pooch not knowing what else to call him. Growing up an orphan, she never had a pet and this dog, with his big brown eyes and beige fur with white paws, was the closest she ever came to knowing unconditional love. Every day, he waited for her to get off duty and play with him. Every day, he ate the bowl of food she provided and drank cool water from the stainless-steel bed pan she pilfered from the supply tent.
Pooch had not only survived, but thrived. He’d grown over the past year into quite the handsome devil. He had short, wiry hair that grew a little thicker, a little shaggier around his snout. Leisl guessed he was some kind of terrier mix. His boundless energy when playing fetch the stick delighted her. Angie sometimes joined them, but Pooch, despite his affection for her friend made his preference known by gluing himself to Leisl’s side. Major Ross called him her personal body guard. Everyone at base camp knew Pooch and who he belonged to, by his own choice.
“Well, Pooch, I helped save a man’s testicles today.” She bent down and picked up a rock, tossing it into the air and catching it. The dog whined, making it sound like a question. “I kid you not. Poor guy. Yeah, it looked like it hurt a lot.” Pooch immediately sat and bent his head to lick himself.
Leisl laughed. “They’re still there, boy. But if I can ever take you back with me to the states, we’ll have to snip ‘em.”
Pooch looked up, eyes wide.
“Can’t have you running around trying to hump everyone’s legs like you do here. That’s just bad manners, boy. It’s supposed to make you a happier, calmer dog. You could use some calm. So could I.” She squatted down, reaching out to rub his fur. “That’s if I could even find a way to bring you back with me. I don’t know how things are going to go, Pooch.” Leisl looked him in the eyes. “I’m sick. Something is wrong with me and I’m not sure what’s going to happen. The army will send me back to America. Heck, I don’t even have a place to live. I guess it will depend on which hospital they send me to, but it won’t really matter. I haven’t got any family.”
A heavy sigh escaped her as she reached up to pull the surgical cap off her head. The breeze ruffled the few loose strands. Leisl yanked out the clip holding her hair up and let it fall around her tired shoulders. She sat there, on her knees with Pooch inching his way closer until he was tucked in at her side. Leaning his head on her shoulder, he turned his snout up to lick her cheek. Leisl laughed, pulling her head away.
“Ugh, you just licked yourself! But thanks. I love you too. And yes, you’re my family.” The dog lifted his paw putting it on her leg. “I’ll find a way, Pooch. As soon as I get settled, I’ll find a way to send for you. Now, come on. I know you’re hungry. I am too. Let’s go see what’s for dinner and then we’ll go check on the post-ops.” Leisl stood, leading the way. Pooch followed.
From the shadow of the awning outside the surgical tent, Doc stood, watching the red-haired woman and the dog walk away. He’d come out intent on locating his captain to give him an update on Eastwood. When he saw the woman talking to the dog, he’d stopped, listening. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but couldn’t help himself. Her words were laden with sadness even as she attempted to disguise them with humor, but for who? For herself or the dog? Either way, it bothered him. What had she meant when she said she was sick? She didn’t look sick. In fact, she looked incredibly healthy. Still, he knew that often didn’t amount to squat.
What bothered him most was her saying she didn’t have any family. That was something he couldn’t fathom. His mom and dad, Jack and Tess Gordon, were still happily married after thirty-seven years. His dad worked as a veterinarian and his mom was a chef with her own successful bistro back in Colver, Colorado. His little sister, Sue, just graduated college with honors and was now working as an assistant at their dad’s veterinary clinic. She still hadn’t decided yet if she would go the full ride to veterinarian. That would mean going back to school, but for now, she was content helping Jack and learning at his side. His older brother, Ed, worked as a mortgage counselor and his wife, Leslie, taught second grade. They had two children, both boys, one in 5th grade and one in 6th. Doc’s family extended even further beyond the immediate to aunts and uncles, cousins, second cousins, and unofficial family members in the form of friends. Holidays at the Gordon residence were epic and there was never a quiet or dull moment. He couldn’t imagine not having them, not
having anyone.
The red-haired nurse mentioned she didn’t even have a home to go to in her time of need. That felt like a punch to his gut. No one should have to be alone, especially if they were sick. But what could he do? His team was currently deployed on a classified mission. No different than any other mission they undertook, but it left him without room to maneuver to help anyone else. They had to focus. And now, with Eastwood down, they were waiting for the army and the State Department to decide what they were to do. Their objective was not accomplished, but they needed a weapons specialist. That was his job, and why they called him Eastwood, because ‘Dirty Harry’ was too much of a mouthful in the field. He would be out for the next two months at the very least while his sac healed. Their prime target would not wait that long. Even now, Skyscraper, Ghost, and Hollywood were keeping a fix on the location where intel indicated the chemist was expected per intel, awaiting word.
There was no time to waste. He felt badly for the lovely redhead, wanted to tell her everything would be alright, but the mission came first. Comforting a beautiful woman, unfortunately, would have to wait. Doc turned in the opposite direction and set out to find Nate.
Chapter 3
Doc bit his tongue. It wasn’t like him to hold back words, but it wasn’t often he was put into a position where he had to either. Nate had just informed him he would not be returning to mission as expected. Rather, he was ordered to stay at base camp with Eastwood. The orders came down from General P.K. Davidson in coordination with the State Department. They were sending in the SEALs. Matthew ‘Wolf’ Steel and his team, Abe, Cookie, Mozart, Dude, and Benny were already en route to join Outlaw’s remaining team; Marcus ‘Skyscraper’ DuBose, Allen ‘Ghost’ Williamson, and Hank ‘Hollywood’ Jimenez.
Nate maintained a poker face as he watched his teammate and friend struggle not to erupt. He’d had the same reaction not an hour past when the call came in from the general.
“Go ahead. Spit it out. I know it’s killing you,” said Nate.
Doc exhaled. “Why, goddammit? All we needed was a weapons specialist, not the whole goddamned cavalry! And even at that, we could still have handled it on our own without Harry. One more spec ops person is just backup. And why the SEALs? Is there some shortage of Green Berets I’m not aware of? What the fuck?”
Nate shook his head. “Nothing I didn’t point out to Davidson, but Wolf’s team is closest and time isn’t on our side. New intel came down the pipeline that the chemist is on the move. Radio chatter indicates he’ll arrive at the location we were on our way to when we walked into that damned ambush. This is a high-priority asset. The Pentagon wants this one alive.”
“For fuck’s sake, no one even knows what this asshole looks like let alone his real name. All we know is he goes by the handle of the ‘chemist.’ We should be there, Outlaw! Eastwood’s in good hands.”
Nate paced the short length of the quarters he’d been assigned. “I know, but we follow orders first and foremost. You know that.”
Doc threw his hands in the air. “So Wolf’s riding in to nab our target and the fucking Navy’s gonna take all the credit. Months of tracking this bomb-making terrorist from shithole to shithole down the drain. Fuck!”
“You know it’s not like that. Wolf’s a good man and a damned good team leader. Not to mention, he’s our friend.”
“I know this!” Doc shouted moving to the nearest folding metal chair and sitting down. “But he’s not going to let us live this down. I can hear it now. Eastwood lost his balls and Doc and Outlaw had to cradle them like a baby. SEALs to the rescue! Motherfuckers.”
“He said hello by the way. Told Davidson to ask about your mom and if she’d be kind enough to send some of her special Gordon chocolate chip cookies to Caroline again. She really loved them.”
Doc ran a hand through his hair. The brown strands had grown beyond regulation, but then, there hadn’t been time for a haircut. He’d only just shaved his face after eight days yesterday. And then they ran into an ambush, Eastwood caught sniper fire, and while Nate and Hollywood took the sniper out, Skyscraper and Ghost sent three more ISIS bastards to Allah. “Yeah, I’ll ask her. Mom really liked her. I’m sure she’ll send a shitload along overnight. Enough for the entire damn team, I bet.”
Nate smiled. “Ask her to send some our way while she’s at it. I love your mom’s cookies.”
“Not sure how good they’d be by the time they got here, man.” Doc eyed Outlaw.
“Can’t be any worse than the MREs.”
“Oh, hell no. Miles better than those ready-to-eat packs. Still, MREs aren’t that bad. Better than crap. Maybe mom should contract with the army, give them some of her recipes. There’s got to be a way to dehydrate and rehydrate her mushroom risotto.”
Nate groaned. “Stop! You’re killing me. I’m already pissed we have to stay here. Don’t make it worse with food cravings.”
“Sorry, man. At least the rest of our team will get in on the action,” said Doc. “That’s some consolation, I guess.”
“About that…” Nate sighed, casting side-eye at Doc.
“What?” Doc jumped up. “No! No fucking way!”
“Yep. They’re transporting here as soon as they brief Wolf.” Nate stood, hands on hips, clearly frustrated.
“I told you so! SEALs taking over. This ain’t the Green Beret way. We get our man. We don’t hand the sonsofbitches over to the sissy Navy boys.”
“Pretty sure they say the same thing about us.” Outlaw rubbed his face. “All the ribbing we give to one another, but you know as well as I do we’d give our lives for them and they’d do the same, so take a breath. Go walk it off. Find something to do.”
Doc fumed a moment longer, then exhaled. He wasn’t one to stay angry long about anything. He simply vented and then it was over. And Nate was right. Wolf and his team were cool in his book every day of the week and twice on Sundays. They were seasoned, skilled soldiers and good guys to boot. Doc’s whole family liked Wolf. Of course, his mom called Wolf by his given name. It was always “Matthew is such a nice young man, and that Caroline! Oh, my, what a sweet young lady! Jason, when are you going to settle down and give me grandchildren?”
That always led to his family raggin’ on him about his serial dating. Next time they were all together, he’d make sure to slip some Ex-Lax into the cookie batter for Wolf. The thought made him smile.
“I don’t know what evil thoughts just entered your head, but stifle them for now.”
Doc turned to Nate. “I’m gonna go grab some dinner in the chow tent and then hit the hay. I’ll check on Eastwood before light’s out.”
Nate replied, “No, I’ll check on him. You just go have dinner and get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”
Doc nodded. “Thanks.” He headed toward the door. “Maybe that cute nurse is still there eating.”
A loud bark of laughter followed him out. “I wondered if you’d noticed.”
“Of course I did. I’m not blind.” Doc threw the words over his shoulder as he left Nate’s quarters.
Leisl took a bite of potato. It needed more seasoning than just the salt, pepper, and butter provided, but it was better than no seasoning at all. The potatoes were next to bits of roast beef in a sort-of gravy on her tray. Some green beans and carrots rounded it out along with a hard roll. She’d already put most of the roast and some carrots on a small plate and placed it on the ground beneath the table. She sat near the chow tent’s far edge away from the other dining service members. This is where she’d taken to sitting for all her meals so that Pooch could slip in beneath the tent’s hem. She could hear the loud chewing sounds followed by the scrape of the plate against the gravel as Pooch licked the surface clean.
Everyone knew she fed the dog when she ate, but no one seemed to mind. She was tearing off a piece of the roll and dipping it in gravy when the soldier called Doc walked in. Leisl dropped her hand below the table and felt the dog gently bite the bread, taking it from her fingers. She
watched as Doc approached the chow line, picked up his tray, and went through. He, too, chose the roast beef over the sickly-looking chicken, and potatoes over the rice. A large bottled water and a piece of apple pie rounded out his dinner.
She realized she was still staring when his eyes met hers. Smiling, he made a beeline in her direction. It was too late to run away.
“Lucky me,” he said, sitting down opposite her at the table. “Didn’t think I’d see a friendly face the rest of the night. Mind if I join you?” he asked.
Leisl stared at the man. He was smiling, brown eyes twinkling, and dimples winking. He’d already sat down and was busy opening his bottled water.
She blinked. “Looks like you already have,” she said dryly.
Leisl knew it was a rude thing to say, but she wasn’t in the mood for company. Her day had already been filled with bad news. Hard to believe it could get any worse than finding out she had a brain tumor, but her shift wouldn’t be over until midnight so there was still plenty of time for things to go downhill. A horny soldier, no matter how good-looking, just wasn’t something she wanted to deal with right now.
Doc, sensing her withdrawal and remembering the odd conversation he’d witnessed her having with the dog earlier, immediately stopped smiling. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve asked first. My deepest apologies,” he said, sliding his tray down three seats and removing himself to that chair.
She watched him retreat, sitting in the middle of the empty table by himself. He dug into his dinner, chewing the tough roast beef and making appreciative noises.
“Not bad, but not my mama’s roast beef. Man, I miss her cooking.” He took another bite.
Beneath the table, Pooch whined. He smelled the food and his plate was empty. Leisl leaned down and picked it up. The dog poked his head up anticipating that his human was about to provide him with more meat.
Doc watched through his peripheral vision as she put more of her dinner onto the dog’s plate. It didn’t look like she was leaving much for herself and that bothered him. Recalling her telling the dog she was sick, he wondered exactly what kind of illness she’d been talking about. If her appetite was any indication, he figured some kind of stomach ailment. Still, a soldier needed to eat because you never knew what might happen from one moment to the next. He stood, picking up his tray, and without comment, walked three steps and dumped the majority of his roast beef and some carrots onto the dog’s plate. Then, he went back to the chow line and got a refill for himself and a second plate containing more roast and carrots for her. He placed the plate quietly in front of her and went back to his seat.
Loving Leisl (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Green Beret Book 2) Page 2
