Danger Close (Shadow Warriors)

by Lindsay McKenna

  Cathy felt the release from some of the gloom that had lived in her since she’d been informed Jim was dead. “It’s been a while getting back,” she admitted brokenly, and tears began to spill down her cheeks again.

  Arnley stood up, self-consciously pulling out his handkerchief from his back pocket. He thrust it into her tightly clenched hands resting in her lap.

  “Come on, kid, chin up,” he ordered.

  Mackey decided to interrupt. “I know you men want to get started for home.”

  The sergeant’s hawklike gaze settled on the colonel. “I ain’t flyin’ back to Hutchinson, Kansas, just to sit around the local bar guzzlin’ beer. Sir.” He gazed down at Cathy. “Right now, she needs a man around.” He jabbed his thumb in Gomez’s direction. “Why don’t you go home and say hello to your old lady and your rug rats?”

  Gomez smiled at Cathy and got to his feet. “Okay. I go.”

  Cathy looked around, grateful for Arnley’s hand remaining on her shoulder. “You’re staying, Buck?”

  “Of course I am.” And then he stared over at the colonel. “I got thirty days’ leave coming and I’ll spend them here. Right now, you need someone to take care of you.”

  Mackey shrugged. “Spend them where ever you want, Sergeant. That’s up to you. I know Cathy has been a little bored in her hospital room and she could use the company.”

  Arnley relaxed slightly. “Good. The docs got anything to say about me takin’ her for a stroll through these gardens for some fresh air and sunshine? She looks like death warmed over.”

  “I don’t see why not. She’ll tell you when she’s tired. I’ll see you men later.”

  Gomez leaned down, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Adios, chiquita.”

  “Bye…” Cathy whispered, giving him a broken smile through her tears. “Thanks for coming by…it meant a lot.”

  Gripping her hand, Gomez kissed the back of it awkwardly. “You are in my prayers, El Gato. Keep gettin’ well.”

  Cathy watched the two Marines part in silence, grateful for Arnley’s presence.

  Buck turned the chair around and headed along the sidewalk toward a grove of elm trees. Stopping near a small stream next to the grove, he sat down beside her, taking off his garrison cap. His profile was cut from sharp, unpolished rock as she studied him. He twisted his head, meeting her eyes.

  “I’m glad you stayed,” Cathy whispered hoarsely. Her throat ached with unspoken words of thanks.

  “There’s an old Marine tradition, kid,” he began quietly, “and that’s if a Marine loves you, his buddies will always help you out if he ain’t around to do it himself. We take care of our own. I don’t think you knew that.”

  She compressed her lips, fighting back a deluge of fresh tears. “H-how did you know?”

  “About you and the Cap’n?” Arnley smiled. “It was pretty obvious at Ban Pua when you had your trench blown out from under you. The Cap’n was white as a sheet when he heard about it. I could see it in his eyes and as much as he tried to hide it, I knew. After you went back to Delta, I saw him moping around one night. We shared a couple of days’ ration worth of beer and I finally dragged it out of him.”

  Cathy’s eyes widened. “Dragged out what, Buck?” she asked rawly, her heart aching deep in her breast.

  “That he loved you.”

  She jerked her chin upward. Her eyes widened enormously “Jim said that?”

  “Of course he did. Why are you givin’ me that funny look?”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Kid? What’s wrong?” Arnley got down on one knee, his hand on her shaking shoulder as she cried silently into her hands that were pressed against her face.

  “Jim…h-he never told me he loved me. We had so little time together, Buck….”

  Awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around her heaving shoulders. “Listen to me, kid, he loved you. Just know that.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Got him drunker than hell that night. I could tell he was hurtin’ bad. So I started him out on beer and brought along some whiskey I’d been savin’ for a special occasion.”

  Cathy rested wearily against Buck’s shoulder and sniffed. With a shaky hand, she swiped at the tears on her cheek. “Wh-what did he say? I need to know.”

  “Well, he started out tellin’ me how special you were. Said your eyes were the color of the pond in back of his parents’ farmhouse. And how you were an orphan and how much people meant to you. And how you didn’t have family, but that our team had become your family when you was with us.” Arnley awkwardly patted her shoulder. “He told me about this red swing under the apple tree and how he was going to take you home and show it to you…he had a lot of dreams and hope, for both of you, before all this happened.” His voice grew gravelly as he felt her shake with renewed sobs. “He said he was going to come back Stateside and chase you until he convinced you to marry him. I guess you two had a fight or somethin’ and he was feelin’ real bad about it. He wanted to straighten it out, but he didn’t know how. I suggested he put an engagement ring in a box and send it by messenger over to Delta, but he shook his head. Said he wanted to settle the problem face-to-face and didn’t want any ring to do the talkin’ for him.”

  Cathy slowly sat up, trying valiantly to control her weeping. “I—I guess I knew he loved me. We were just too stubborn to admit it and we were in a terrible situation. We were both scared to say anything. Especially me.”

  Buck took the handkerchief from her hands, dabbing her cheeks. “War’s no place to fall in love,” he agreed somberly. “I’m sorry. Damn sorry. He was a fine officer and an even better man. That’s mainly why I’m stayin’ with you, you know.”

  She sniffed. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the bravest broad I’ve ever come across.” Arnley managed a sheepish grin. “And I’ve seen plenty of broads.” And then he sobered. “Jim Boland was one of the finest Recon Marines I’d ever served with and you were his. Now, I’m going to take care of you until you can get back on your feet again. He’d want it that way.”

  “You’re so different under that tough skin of yours, Buck,” she whispered. “I never knew you even liked me.”

  “Now, if I’d gone and told you that, what good would it have done? You were a good Marine and I respected you for that. You did your job and you did it well. You changed my mind about women bein’ in ground combat. If they were all as good as you, then I wouldn’t mind havin’ another one in my squad.” He got up. “Come on, you’re lookin’ peaked again. Time to get you back so you can rest.” Releasing the brake, he turned the wheelchair back toward the hospital. “You’re gonna have to start eating more, kid.”

  Cathy shrugged, warmed by his concern. “I can’t…. Every time I look at food, I lose my appetite.”

  Arnley halted, digging in his breast pocket for another chaw of tobacco. “Well,” he grumbled, fitting the brown wad between his cheek and gum, “from now on, I’m joinin’ you for supper every night. Understand?”

  Meekly, Cathy inclined her head.

  He tapped her shoulder smartly. “And that tray is gonna be loaded down with chow. And you’re gonna eat all of it.”

  “Buck, you’re worse than a broody hen.”

  “You’ll find out just how bad I really am,” he promised her grimly. He didn’t add that if Boland was alive, he’d cajole Cathy into fighting back. It was slowly dawning upon Arnley what his captain had seen in her. He grieved silently for the loss of the captain for her sake. They had deserved one another.

  Buck roused himself out of his own thoughts as he wheeled Cathy back toward the rear entrance to the hospital. “Colonel Mackey said that he was assigning Dr. Tucker to you. Wasn’t he the man who took care of the women over at Delta?”

  Hope shone in Cathy’s eyes as she twisted a look around to Arnley, surprise written across her face. “Doc? Doc’s coming here?”

  Grudgingly, the sergeant smiled. “Yeah, tomorrow. Is he an okay swabbie?”

  Cathy could barely contain her excitement
over the prospect of seeing Leonard Tucker. “For a Navy guy, he’s okay,” she told him, her voice quavering with undisguised joy.

  IF SHE COULD have paced the length of her hospital room, Cathy would have. When was Doc going to arrive? Every time she thought of him, tears gathered in her eyes—something that rarely happened except for yesterday when she’d seen Buck and Gomez. Cathy stood at the venetian blinds, staring out across the grounds of the sprawling medical facility. Buck had just left after making sure she’d eaten everything on the noontime tray. He’d be back at dinner, he promised. Her heart swelled with gratitude for his care toward her. Right now, she needed someone to help her get back on her feet.

  A light knock on the door sent her turning awkwardly on her injured leg. Dr. Leonard Tucker, dressed like any other doctor at the Naval hospital in his white coat and dark Navy slacks, entered the room, a smile on his thin features.

  “Doc!” And Cathy hobbled awkwardly toward him, her arms outstretched.

  “Cathy,” he murmured, embracing her warmly. Tucker held her and his smile disappeared. “You’re skinny,” he muttered worriedly, holding her at arm’s length.

  She managed a half laugh, her green eyes shining. “I know I look like hell. I need to gain back weight. I look like I got clobbered in a barroom brawl. You can’t tell me anything I don’t already know.” She gripped his arms. “Doc, it’s great to see you again.”

  He was moved by her fragility and the strain in her voice. Gently, Tucker guided her to the bed, asking Cathy to lie down so that he could change the dressing on her leg and examine the healing wound.

  “I’ve got to admit, I was surprised when orders were cut for me to come here and attend to you.” He smiled, deftly moving the robe and easing the gown aside so that he could view the wound. Leonard was just as shocked at his orders as Major Lane had been. And like the harpy Lane was, she questioned him endlessly over the unusual move. Why should Fremont have what amounted to a personal physician, when none of the other wounded WLF women were accorded such a privilege? Maybe he’d find out from Cathy.

  As he cleaned her wound, Tucker worked swiftly and surely. Sweat stood out on her face, her flesh growing waxen. Her fists were white-knuckled.

  “Just a little more,” he soothed, “and we’ll be done.”

  Cathy grunted what was supposed to be a laugh. “Until tonight,” she rasped.

  He nodded to the orderly, placing all the old dressing into the tray, and gave him permission to leave.

  “All over with, Cathy.” Tucker smiled gently. “You can relax until 2100.”

  Shakily, she wiped the sweat off her brow and closed her eyes. “I never knew there were so many kinds of pain.”

  Tucker carefully examined her leg. “As many kinds as we have people, child. You’re coming along nicely. I see from your chart they’ve got some physiotherapy scheduled for next week. I think you’re up for it.” He began to wrap the protective gauze around her thigh.

  Cathy slowly began to relax. Packing was hell. Wrapping the wound was nothing in comparison. She felt shaky from the adrenaline her body had been pumping; her gown was soaked in sweat. She’d have to change again. “I can’t believe this, Doc. I’ve got Buck, the sergeant I worked with at Alpha, and you here. I’m dreaming. I’ve got to be. After almost four weeks of being cooped up, packings three times a day, nightmares when I could get some sleep and nothing but memories when I woke up…” Cathy’s voice ebbed away and she slowly opened her eyes, managing a wan smile. “I was so lonely. How did Colonel Mackey know that?”

  Tucker lifted his chin, his hands momentarily stilled. “Colonel Mackey? What’s he got to do with this?”

  Cathy closed her eyes, allowing herself the luxury of completely relaxing after the trauma of repacking. “You’ll know soon enough,” she murmured. “Come Monday, Senator Fredericks is going to have a request sent to Lane for her to appear before a congressional hearing.”

  His eyes bulged. “What?”

  Cathy heard the terror in his voice and opened her eyes, studying him. “Colonel Mackey asked me to testify in the hearing, Doc.” She licked her chapped lips. “I said I would.”

  He finished the taping and brought her gown back down over her knees and pulled the chenille robe across her legs. His heart hammered hard in his chest and he tried to appear only mildly interested. “Testify on what, Cathy?”

  She slowly dragged herself upright, matching his sober tone. “Mac…Colonel Mackey is coming here on Monday to fill you and Sergeant Arnley in on the details. He made me promise I wouldn’t say anything before that.” Cathy reached out, touching the doctor’s slender hand. “It’s okay. I’m doing this for all of us, Doc. We suffered too much under Lane. She’s got to be stopped.” And then Cathy shrugged, removing her hand. “After Jim died, I wanted to die. I’m still not sure I want to live yet. Just having you and Buck here helps me a lot.” Cathy glanced at him. “I’ll be up on the firing line, Doc. Again. Mac is hot on this hearing. He’s enthusiastic.”

  “And you?”

  “Me?” Cathy stared down at her pink robe. “It’s a long story, Doc. I’ll tell you the rest on Monday after Mac briefs you two.”

  Tucker stilled his own worries and reached over, resting his hand on her slumped shoulder. “Your wound is healing well, but, emotionally, you aren’t.”

  Taking a ragged breath, Cathy nodded. “Like I said, it’s a long story, Doc.”

  He set his clipboard down and crossed his arms, looking at her steadily. “I got the rest of the afternoon. Now, what’s this about Captain Boland? You never told me anything about loving him when you came back over to Delta.”

  “I didn’t want to bore you, Doc.”

  “Cathy, I care enough to listen. You know that. Now come on. I can see that look in your eyes. What’s happened? You look as if you’ve lost your best friend.”

  The urge to talk to Leonard about how she felt toward Jim was more than Cathy could bear. He was the only one she wanted to confide in. Haltingly, she began to peel off the layers of her own feelings about Jim while the doctor sat and listened.

  Nearly two hours later, Cathy finished the story. Tucker had become drawn, the same look on his face that Cathy had seen before when he was assigned to Delta. She reached out and squeezed his hand. His fingers were damp and cool.

  “Thanks for listening, Doc.”

  He gripped her hand and then released it. Picking up the clipboard, he focused on Cathy for a moment, pushing his own problems aside.

  “Listen to me, young lady. You loved Jim Boland. Face that. Accept it.”

  “We didn’t know each other very long.”

  “The first time I met my wife, Madeline, I fell in love with her. I took her on a date that night and the next week, I proposed to her. We’ve been married ever since.” He saw that the corners of her mouth were drawn in with pain. “Sometimes it just happens that way, child. Don’t keep hiding from how you really felt about Jim. What you had, what you shared was good and honest between you. Despite all the intrigue surrounding the situation. Okay?”

  Cathy barely nodded. “Okay.”

  “Cried much since his death?” he pressed gently.

  “No…just yesterday when I started talking to Buck. I couldn’t stop, then. He must think I’m a crybaby.”

  “Good. And I doubt seriously if this sergeant thinks that.” He placed his finger beneath her chin, forcing Cathy to look up at him. Her eyes were marred with grief. “Do some more. I promise, I’ll carry a box of Kleenex around for you, okay?”

  A wobbly smile pulled at her lips. “Okay, Doc. Thanks, for everything.”

  Tucker left soon afterward. Despite his own inner turmoil and worry, he felt Cathy’s anguish. With a shake of his head, he headed down the hall toward his new office. He had a phone call to make. The house of cards Lane had built was going to come crashing down around her ears. He didn’t care so much for her as he was worried about his own career status. Lane was suspicious as to why he was assigned to Ca
thy, reading it as a change of loyalty. Somehow, he’d have to convince Lane differently. Cathy had only mentioned in passing about a hearing coming up shortly and nothing more. Giving Lane a two-day warning that she was going to be served with orders to attend the hearing ought to convince her he was on her side. Sweat beaded Tucker’s forehead as he swung into his pale green office and shut the door behind him. He had a year and a half left before retirement. God, if only Lane would keep his secret.

  LOUISE ALLOWED the phone to drop back into the cradle. She had been hard at work in her office at Camp Pendleton Staff HQ. when Tucker’s shocking call arrived. The sun wedged through the slats of the blinds, covering her and the opposite wall with prisonlike bars of light and dark. She sat there a long time, looking at the notes she had taken during the phone call. Don’t panic, Louise. Don’t panic. This is a hearing, not a grand jury investigation. Her mind spun. Tucker had not said anything about Fredericks’ bringing up Simmons. Had they found out about Simmons? Impossible. Or was it? Had Ingram or Hayes told Fremont anything before they died? Her right hand knotted slowly into a fist. The death certificate had been signed by the attending physician, Leonard Tucker. Only Tucker had drawn attention to an apparent puncture wound. She had been able to convince him to forget it and sign the damn certificate. His memo and notes about the questionable issue of an accident were “lost” from the official file. Permanently lost.

  Getting up, Louise felt like a trapped animal. Mackey was going after her. The bastard. She’d have his ass before this was all over. Right now, she had to plan. And she had to put out top-level feelers through those who believed in what she was doing for women’s rights. Picking up the phone, Louise called Washington D.C. First, a call to Senator Jacob Roman and, then, the Pentagon.

  THE FIRST DAY of the hearings raced upon them. Mackey flew back to Washington, D.C., with Cathy and the other two men who had become part of her extended family. The colonel silently thanked the sergeant for his influence upon her. Arnley was a thread of strength for her and so was Dr. Tucker.