Recon Marines III: The Marine's Doctor

by Susan Kelley

  Joe ignored Yalo and looked at Callie with the patience of a rock in his perfect posture.

  “How difficult?” But Callie had already made up her mind. They had no choice.

  “Two of my men died the first time we crossed. We know the land and dangers better now, but the risk is great.”

  “My guard thinks you and your men are the greatest danger.” Callie watched for any flicker of reaction.

  Joe’s gaze didn’t waver. “We could have killed you all before now. Or taken what the pirates will demand of you.”

  Callie nodded. “I need to discuss this with my staff.”

  Joe snapped to attention but then seemed to catch himself. He back up a step and gripped the ragged side of the doorway with one strong, tanned hand. He’d removed his camouflaged coverall. The short-sleeved shirt he wore clung to muscles across his chest and shoulders. A thick belt hugged his lean waist and emphasized his flat stomach. The tight pants sculpted his rear and everything else below his waist as if he wore a body stocking like a professional dancer.

  Callie raised her stare to meet his and realized he waited to get her attention. Hot blood rushed to her face.

  “You have the hot time to decide, Lady Callie. We must leave as soon as the sun starts its decline and make the most of the cooler hours.” Joe hopped down and walked over to join Vin.

  Callie had considered many men in her quest for a husband to rule beside her. None had compared in pure male beauty to any of the marines. None had the intimidating air of this Joe.

  The women argued quietly behind her except for Yalo who stared at the two marines also.

  “He’s right,” Yalo said. “They could have raped us, killed us and done whatever they wanted.”

  “You agree we should go with them?”

  “What are our choices? The marine could be right about pirates even if we weren’t going to freeze or starve.”

  Joe and Vin split up and soon disappeared into the shimmering haze of the desert. Already the ship’s floor heated, and the dry air sucked the moisture from mouth and nose.

  “How do they survive?”

  Yalo pulled Callie deeper into the interior of the ship and away from the open hatch. “They probably have the most updated technology available and all types of survival gear given only to the military. And we don’t know what genetic constructs they might possess to live in adverse conditions.”

  “Should I tell them someone is chasing us?” Callie’s mind flinched away from the image of the diplomatic escort cruiser they’d watched explode in a brilliant moment of horror. They’d never seen the ship or ships that had fired on them. Callie still wasn’t sure if the skill of her pilots had saved her and her staff or if their attackers wanted to capture them rather than kill them. Only the luck of a brief magnetic storm had helped their damaged ship elude their pursuers, but they hadn’t traveled far before they’d been forced to land on this planet. The brave men driving her ship had perished but saved their passengers.

  “Not yet,” Yalo advised. “When we get to this place with water will be soon enough.”

  “I don’t like being dishonest.”

  “Don’t even worry about it. It’s not as if you’re dealing with humans with souls or emotions. Laboratory creations aren’t going to suffer from hurt feelings.”

  “If they have no souls why are they offering their help?”

  Yalo shrugged. “Some kind of instinct or training to protect. We can use that.”

  Guilt tapped on Callie’s shoulders, but she would use Joe and the others to survive. And what if her enemies found out where they were? Should she warn Joe there might be a force the size of a small army hunting her?

  Sally burped loudly, and the women laughed. The women trusted her and she couldn’t let them down. Even if it meant putting these strange marines in mortal danger.

  * * * *

  “We’ll go with you.” Callie resisted the temptation to put conditions on the agreement. They depended on the mercy of the marines and had nothing to bargain.

  Joe gave a short nod. “You’ll need your sturdiest boots and shoes. The clothing you wear will have to do.”

  “We need to take along some other things.”

  Joe shook his head, before she finished speaking. “We can’t carry anything else but you.”

  “You won’t have to carry us.”

  “We will.”

  “But we’ll need more than one set of clothing. And what of the children? The baby needs changing several times per day.” Callie didn’t think the small pile of belongings they’d put together amounted to much. Two changes of simple clothing for everyone, their small supply of medicine and the few data packs they’d carried on their journey.

  “Your life or your clothing, Lady Callie,” Joe said.

  “Sir,” Riba said. “The baby must have linens and fresh clothing.”

  Sally cooed as if in answer and waved a tiny fist at her mother’s chin.

  Joe took a small step closer to Riba and stretched his neck to look at the baby. Riba had stripped the infant down to her diaper during the mid day heat. Joe’s jaw clenched in the largest display of emotion Callie had seen from him so far. Rib lifted Sally toward him.

  The marine’s eyes widened and he retreated with his palms out in a warding motion. “Take what you need for the … baby. Leave the rest and we’ll come back for it later.”

  He turned and hopped out of the door before anyone could answer. Callie stared after him. He seemed a little … unbalanced.

  Acacia giggled, and soon Grace joined her. Riba smiled and rubbed her head against Sally’s downy head. But Yalo looked at the empty hatch with a puzzled expression matching Callie’s feelings.

  “I think our lean, mean marine is afraid of babies,” Acacia managed around her laughter.

  Callie smiled because she couldn’t resist their merriment. Joe’s obvious discomfort around the baby didn’t amuse her. Why would anyone react so to something so harmless?

  * * * *

  “We’ll have to double or triple up tonight.” Only Tar grimaced at Joe’s words. “I don’t know how fast we’ll be able to move so go light on the water. Tar, take the point. Vin, cover the rear. Roz and I will take the flanks.”

  “Who will take the baby tonight?” Roz asked.

  “We’ll decide later,” Joe answered. None of them wanted to sleep with an infant. He’d been close enough to touch it and had smelled its strange odor.

  The women gathered in a small herd near their disabled ship. Lady Callie stood tall and proud while looking their way. The loose clothing she wore did little to conceal the swell of her hips or the generous roundness of her breasts. Damn him for noticing but how long since any of them had lain with a woman? A year? And those women had been paid to entertain them. Nothing like these women. Women such as they’d never even seen.

  “Find the easiest route, Tar, even if it costs us time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  An hour into their trip Joe knew they were in trouble. The women took small steps. They labored up the gentle inclines and breathed heavily of the dry air. Roz lifted the little girl again, swinging her up to his shoulders. The child laughed, an alien sound in the white sea of death they strode upon.

  The marines could have covered three times the distance in the same amount of time. They had to move faster if they wanted to reach the oasis before the hot hours on the morrow.

  “Joe.”

  Joe slowed to allow Callie to catch up to him. Only her soft, brown eyes showed above the white cloth she’d wrapped around her face but they sufficed to display her displeasure.

  “We can’t keep up this pace. Can’t we stop and rest.”

  “Not yet.” Joe searched for the words to explain, but the lady’s presence tangled his thoughts. His training didn’t include dealing with respectable civilians.

  “We’re going…” Callie stumbled into him, her words ending in a strangled cry.

  Joe cursed and slid his knife from h
is belt. He slashed at the cactus vine wrapping around Callie’s boot and up her calf. He hacked it off but not before it left several thorns in her footwear and pant leg.

  Callie squeezed his arm, her thin fingers digging into his muscles. She stared at the purple fluid leaking like blood from the sliced vine.

  “What is it?” Her breath brushed his face.

  Joe couldn’t think with her only a hand’s width from him. The cloth had dropped from her face and exposed her smooth, pale skin to the harsh sun. He looked away and kicked at the vine. “Cover your face.”

  He inwardly winced at his the harshness of his command. “The thorns are poison, one of the many dangers in the sands. You have your wish, my lady. We must stop and treat your injury.”

  * * * *

  Callie bit her lip as Joe pulled another of the barbed thorns from her calf. His hard gaze flicked up to her as a small whimper escaped her despite her attempt at stoicism.

  “One more,” he said in a voice she could only describe as a growl.

  The other marines dug shallow holes in the hot sand. Roz had spread a thin sheet of camouflage material on the ground so the women could rest. The wondrous cloth kept the heat of the burning sand at bay. Callie sat on Joe’s thin pack while he knelt with her bare foot cradled in his callused hand.

  Joe slid his other hand up her calf to the back of her knee. Little fissions of pleasure followed the path he traced and distracted her from her painful wounds. Her reaction shocked her but she couldn’t stop it. She sensed Joe’s displeasure though his hands moved gently on her leg. His warm breath feathered against her skin as he leaned close to find the tip of the last thorn. He used his thumb and the edge of a small knife to grip the barb.

  He lifted his head and met her gaze. The pureness of blue in his eyes reminded her of rare, old Earth sapphires. She nearly missed the flicker of regret and her wonder at it was cut short when he tore the thorn from her leg.

  Callie shrieked and jerked her leg from his grip. She tumbled from her perch and landed on the burning sand. Joe lifted her quickly to her feet.

  “Sit.” He pushed her back to her seat on the pack. He pulled a small capped tin from one of the sacks attached to his belt.

  Yalo started toward them, but Callie waved her back.

  “I had to get the thorns out.” Joe didn’t look at her. “One of my men died from their poison when we first crossed.”

  Callie realized Joe meant to apologize in his short-worded rude way. “I know you had to do it. Thank you.”

  “I should have noticed it so you didn’t step on it. Now we’ll have to stay here and might not reach the waterhole tomorrow.” Joe rubbed some ointment from the small tin over the seeping punctures on her leg and then pulled a skinny roll of white cloth from the same pouch on his waist. His hands moved quick and sure, pulling the bandage tight without pinching. His thick hair begged to be tested for silkiness as he bent his head over his task.

  Callie squeezed her hands into fists as they moved toward him without her conscious thought. He finished and looked up, his clear gaze startling her anew with his intensity. He looked away and gestured toward his men.

  “We only have four field beds. You and I must decide how they’re shared.”

  “Four beds for eleven people?” Outrage flooded through Callie. The marines now had them trapped out in the desert and probably expected the women to give in with little protest. And Joe wanted her to help match them up?

  Joe’s predator gaze touched on her and then swept over the rest of her party. “The children might be a problem.”

  “A problem?” Callie lurched to her feet, trying to keep her bare foot out of the sand. She poked him in the chest with her finger and found him as movable as the marble walls of her royal home. “Get this straight, soldier! We’re not sharing any beds with you or your genetic-freak comrades. We’d rather die out here!”

  The others surely heard every word. The marines stopped digging and stared at her and Joe.

  Joe picked up her boot and handed it to her. “The sun will set within half an hour, Lady Callie. All of you will be frozen within another hour if you don’t join us in our field beds. Though I’d guess the children won’t last even that long.”

  He gathered up his supplies and walked away to join his men. They exchanged no words and started digging again. Callie winced as she slid her foot into her hot boot. She hobbled over to the other women. They lifted their frightened gazes to her.

  “What was that about?” Yalo asked.

  “He wanted me to decide which one of them each of you would sleep with.” Saying the words added fuel to Callie’s anger.

  “So?” Riba asked.

  “Riba! I know they’re pretty to look at but…”

  “Callie,” Riba interrupted. “What are you thinking? We’ll have to sleep together to keep warm. They’re not digging those holes so they can have their way with us. Roz said they have special sleeping sacks to hold in the heat.”

  “They must have some advanced gear to allow them to survive the extreme temperatures, or they wouldn’t be able to cross this desert,” Yalo offered.

  Callie winced as she recalled her words to Joe. She watched the marines as they went about their preparations. They pulled more thin sheets like the one the women rested on from their packs and lined the holes. No words passed between them as they worked in perfect efficiency.

  How could she apologize for her harsh words? If she hadn’t been thinking about how beautiful Joe was, she wouldn’t have jumped to such an illogical conclusion. No matter the marines’ rudeness and social ineptness, the men had been nothing but helpful. They’d asked nothing in return and perhaps that was why she couldn’t bring herself to trust them.

  * * * *

  Joe set aside his shovel as Callie walked toward him. It might be best if the men didn’t hear more of her opinions of them. “Tar and Roz, set up the condensation nets for the night. Vin, see about food for everyone.”

  Callie stopped in front of him. “I misunderstood your intentions, Joe.”

  He tried not to stare at her pale, smooth skin, so fragile appearing against the unforgiving backdrop of the desert. “Have you decided on the sleeping arrangements?”

  “I’m trying to apologize.”

  Joe thought she looked more angry than sorry. His mind raced to interpret her meaning. She said she misunderstood, but she was still upset. Perhaps more details would help. “I will take the baby. Roz volunteered to take the child and her mother. Vin will take only one as he’ll be the last settled.”

  Red color rose to Callie’s cheeks. Could the thorns cause a fever so quickly? She spoke through clenched teeth. “Are you some kind of robot? Having a conversation with you is like speaking to my computer.”

  Joe repeated her words in his mind. Did she expect an answer to the robot question? He feared to say the wrong thing so said nothing.

  Callie sighed. “The baby’s mother must sleep with her. Sally still wakes up to eat in the middle of the night. Yalo can sleep with Vin and help him to whatever it is he needs to do.”

  Joe gave a quick nod, eager to agree and move away from the confusion of her earlier anger. He knew his intelligence quotient topped the abilities of most men but being around Callie proved his ignorance of so many things.

  Callie broke eye contact, and the fever rose in her cheeks again. “As the leader I should stay close to your leader. I’ll sleep with you and Riba and the baby.”

  “The plan is good,” Joe agreed without hesitation. “Vin has food for your people.”

  “Thank you.” But she didn’t move away.

  “You’ll be safe tonight.”

  “I know.”

  Joe wondered if he hadn’t responded fully enough. Civilians had conversations, did they not? “The food is the same but it has many nutrients.”

  “Joe!”

  “Yes?” He stood right beside her. Why did she call him?

  Callie laughed, a musical sound from deep inside her
. “What goes on in your head, and why am I trying to figure it out? The food is wonderful, especially compared to what we had.”

  “You said you didn’t have any food.”

  Callie laughed again and walked away to join her other friends. What the hell had she meant about the food?

  * * * *

  “I feel like I’m going to suffocate,” Riba said.

  “Yalo said there’s a sophisticated ventilation system to keep the oxygen levels high enough.” Callie slid in the sleeping sack beside Riba. Sally sprawled in satiated slumber on her mother’s chest. “I don’t like these cramped quarters either, but we’ll be warm.”

  Callie snuggled as close to Riba as she could, but how would even a lean marine like Joe fit in the bit of space left? The same, thin material as the soldiers’ uniforms had been used to construct the bags. A small mechanical unit attached to the head of the sack as Vin had explained. He would cover all but the hose venting the air unit right before the sun set and trap the heat of the white sand around them.

  “I hope Sally sleeps through tonight,” Riba said.

  Before Callie could add her wish for the same, Joe lifted the edge of the bag. He slid in beside her, his body brushing along her length. He’d taken his boots off and pulled his shirt over his head before reclining flat beside her.

  “Ready, Vin.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Callie caught a glimpse of Yalo and Vin before Joe sealed the sack with some type of clever zipper. Joe reached over Callie’s head and switched on the ventilation unit as the hot, heavy sand dropped on their legs.

  The sack inflated along its length and lifted the weight of the sand off of them. The top of the bag expanded to nearly a foot above their bodies. The air circulated like a light breeze across their faces and alleviated some of the claustrophobic feeling of being buried. A soft glow from the air unit added to the comfort.

  Joe settled on his side facing her. He lifted his shirt in front of her face and offered it to Riba. “Take this. It will get much colder later.”

  “Thank you.” Riba took the shirt and wrapped it around Sally. She tucked the edges around the baby as if it were a blanket of fine organic wool instead of a shirt smelling of warm male.