A Gentleman and a Soldier

by Cindy Dees

  The ground exploded in a puff of dust in front of Susan’s face. She flinched, startled. “What was that?” she whispered.

  “Don’t move!” was Mac’s sharp reply.

  He propped himself up on his elbows beside her, and something hard rested across the back of her thighs. Cold metal jumped away from her flesh as Mac pulled the trigger once. The barrel of Mac’s pistol touched her legs again, warm this time.

  “Nice shot,” Tex commented.

  “Hello? What just happened?” she demanded.

  Tex answered succinctly. “The last sniper took a shot at you and missed. Mac shot back. He didn’t miss.”

  “Oh. Uh, thanks Mac.”

  “Anytime,” he replied casually.

  “Why don’t we get out of here, boys and girls,” Tex suggested, climbing to his feet with his rifle at the ready before him.

  Mac and Susan stood up, as well, and headed for the same trees the sniper had been hiding in moments before. Even with her knee in open revolt, Susan had no trouble keeping up with Mac’s shambling gait. She actually put her hand under his elbow to support him the last few yards.

  The building behind them made an ominous whooshing noise and then sent a huge plume of smoke and flame shooting up into the night sky, lighting it as bright as day.

  They reached the shadows of the trees, made all the darker for the light behind them. Mac stopped just inside the tree line and slid down a tree trunk to the ground. She hovered over him, hating the helpless feeling of not being able to do anything for him.

  Tex materialized out of the darkness. He squatted beside them, talking quietly into a handheld radio. He put it away and said to Mac, “Doc’s on his way. He’ll be here in a minute.”

  Susan blinked. “Doc, as in Joe Rodriguez?”

  Tex frowned at her. “How do you know Joe?”

  “Doc, Dutch, Howdy and Mac have been at the ranch for the last week.”

  “Doing what?” Tex sounded surprised.

  “Well, they weren’t on vacation,” Susan replied tartly.

  “What the hell’s been going on since I left?” Tex demanded.

  “It’s a long story. Once we get Mac taken care of, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “You bet you will,” Tex growled. He looked back and forth between them. “Then, everything’s all right between you two?”

  Mac looked as uncomfortable as she felt at that one. She was relieved when he broke the silence that abruptly descended by saying, “Hey, Tex. Why don’t you go do a quick body check while we wait for Doc?”

  “Good idea. Don’t go anywhere, old man.”

  Mac chuckled and then grabbed his side.

  Susan winced for him. He must have some broken ribs the way he kept holding his side like that. “What’s a body check?” she asked to distract him.

  “You have a look at the bodies to verify they’re dead.”

  “Oh.” She was sorry she’d asked.

  She jumped when Tex appeared beside her a couple minutes later. When had he learned to move so quietly? He’d bombed around the house like a minor tornado as a kid.

  “Look who I found,” Tex crowed.

  Doc appeared beside her brother. She grabbed the medic’s arm and all but shoved him at Mac. She waited anxiously while Doc examined him.

  Finally the dark-haired man leaned back on his heels. “I don’t know how you did it, Mac, but you’ve got no life-threatening injuries that I can see. Your left forearm’s broken in a really nasty location. Gonna need pins if I had to guess. You need an MRI to make sure you didn’t rupture anything under those busted ribs, too. But you’ll live.”

  Susan sagged in relief.

  Doc continued. “You’re going to need stitches over your right eye when we can get that swelling down a little. I’m going to tape your ribs right now, and that’s going to hurt like hell’s own fury, but you’ll be able to breathe better after I do it. Beyond that, you need about two weeks of bed rest and a trip to the dentist to cap that cracked tooth you’ve got.”

  Susan gasped. “That jerk cracked your tooth?”

  Mac grinned crookedly. “Hey, at least the dude wasn’t a professional interrogator. Otherwise, he’d have been pulling my teeth out.”

  Doc nodded. “Along with a dozen other interesting forms of torture you were lucky to avoid.”

  Susan shuddered at the thought. She stayed out of the way while Doc taped Mac’s ribs. How many times in their lives were she and Mac going to get this lucky? First she’d survived the surveillance van getting shot up, and now he’d survived being beaten half to death. Except this time Mac’s injuries were her fault.

  It was all her fault.

  Chapter 17

  M ac fidgeted in the white hospital bed, frustrated by his enforced stillness. Two weeks of bed rest had all but killed him. His arm still hurt under the cast where the pins had been inserted, but he’d been through worse. He looked out the window at the darkness outside. Somewhere out there was Susan. What was she doing tonight? Was she thinking of him? Counting herself lucky to have gotten rid of the bastard who messed up her life every time he got near her?

  A deep voice spoke behind him. “Hey, you slacker. Enjoying lying around getting waited on hand and foot?”

  Mac turned his head to look at Colonel Folly. “Hey.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Mac shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about himself. “Any luck IDing Ruala’s body?”

  Colonel Folly grinned. “Yeah, we got the DNA report back today. That was Ramon Ruala you took out, all right.”

  Profound relief swept through him. Now Susan would be safe. “Thank God,” he said aloud. He shifted his weight in the bed and flinched as his arm protested. His boss made a sympathetic grimace. Mac recalled that the colonel had broken his left forearm on his last mission, too.

  Folly asked, “How’s the arm? I heard the surgery went well.”

  “The docs say only time will tell if I’ll be able to go out in the field again.”

  Colonel Folly sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. “If anybody can make it back, it’s you. But don’t sweat it either way. You know there’s a standing offer for you to teach demolitions at the Special Forces schoolhouse.”

  Mac nodded. He’d been trying to prepare himself for the last two weeks to be put out to pasture like a broken-down old racehorse. Colonel Folly had made the transition all right after his leg got nuked, but the colonel had his new wife, Annie, to comfort him, too.

  He had nobody.

  If he really loved Susan, he’d walk away from her. Leave her the hell alone and quit wrecking her life every time he came into contact with her. God, it hurt, though.

  The colonel’s casual voice interrupted his misery. “I hear you’ve gone off your feed. Been a little out of it, recently. Anything bugging you that I can help with?”

  Mac’s gaze snapped to his boss’s. They were much more than senior officer and subordinate. Much more than teammates. Much more even than friends. They’d been to hell and back together more times than he could count over the past eight years. “Are you asking as a colonel or as a friend?”

  “Either. Both.”

  Mac closed his eyes against the searing pain that swept through him. He managed to grit out, “How’s Susan doing?”

  She’d been whisked into protective custody straight from the site of the explosion. Nobody but the guys on Charlie Squad knew she was alive. There’d even been a mock funeral, which thankfully he’d been too laid up from his injuries to attend. In keeping with the story that she’d died in the fire, Tex had even worked out a deal for Frank Riverra to run the ranch permanently.

  Colonel Folly shrugged. “She’s about like you’d expect. Lonely. Scared. Putting on a brave front.”

  “Do me a favor,” Mac asked abruptly. “Keep an eye out for her, will you? She’s not nearly as tough as she tries to be. She could use a friend.”

  Colonel Folly answered quietly, “She doesn’t need me, buddy. She
needs you.”

  Mac jolted. “Excuse me?”

  Colonel Folly’s steady, steel blue gaze met his. “You heard me.”

  Mac shook his head. “It’s more complicated that that. I’ve hurt her too bad too many times. I don’t…” He sighed. “I just can’t. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

  The colonel shrugged. “It’s your life. But that reminds me. I’ve got something for you.” He pulled out a flat, dark-blue box about the size of his palm.

  Mac recognized the vinyl container. Military medals came in them. With his right hand he caught the box the colonel flipped at him. He opened the lid and looked inside to see a Purple Heart resting on a background of silver velvet.

  “How many is that for you?” the colonel asked. “Four?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Mac replied. “I don’t keep count.”

  Colonel Folly grinned. “Congratulations and all that stuff.”

  Mac grinned, his mood momentarily lightened. They both knew they weren’t in their profession for the medals. He snapped the lid closed.

  “Seriously, that medal isn’t just scrap iron,” Colonel Folly commented. “It’s your country’s way of saying thank you. Lord knows we don’t get much recognition in our line of work, but Uncle Sam knows you’re out there and that you put your butt on the line to protect him.” He added lightly, “Too bad I can’t award medals to civilians. Lord knows, Susan deserves a couple of those, too.”

  Mac stared down at the box in his hand. A tiny fire lit in his gut and caught on. It grew and grew until it was a frenzied firestorm whipping through him. He looked up at his boss. “How fast can you get me out of here?”

  The colonel didn’t miss a beat. Clever bastard had probably pushed his buttons intentionally. “It’s nearly midnight, but I expect I can have you out of here in thirty minutes.”

  “Make it twenty.” Mac sat up briskly and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “Where are my damn clothes?” he growled, spurred on by the sudden flames of hope raging inside him.

  Colonel Folly laughed. “I’ll go pull the appropriate strings while you track down your pants. And, Mac?”

  He glanced up at his boss.

  “Ferrare sent his reply to our note. We got it today.”

  “What did it say?” Mac held his breath, tense.

  “He said to bring it on. He bought Susan’s death. She’s safe.”

  Mac grinned. “Make it ten minutes, sir.”

  Susan tossed and turned, the bed sheets hot and clingy. And then she heard it. A thump downstairs. Somebody was in the house. Darkness enveloped her, and her room was cloaked in menacing shadows, just like the night this whole nightmare started. Her bedside clock said it was a little after 1:00 a.m.

  Her pulse jumped and fear choked her. Had Ferrare’s men come for her? Had they managed to kill the FBI agents outside and get into her home? She considered creeping into her bathroom, locking the door and hiding in the bathtub. But something reckless inside her didn’t care if she lived or died anymore. Taking risks had ceased to matter. Mac was gone. Her heart was broken for good this time. So what if she ought to call Charlie Squad right now instead of investigating for herself?

  She got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. She paused and listened but heard nothing. Easing down the stairs, she didn’t see anything unusual. A dull knife of loss stabbed her heart anew. How she wished for Mac’s strong, confident presence right now. He’d make short work of an intruder in her house.

  She lurched as a shadow rose up in front of the fireplace. “Don’t move,” she ordered. “I’ve got a gun and I’ll shoot.”

  “Don’t be silly, Suzie. That’s your finger pointing at me.”

  She exhaled sharply. “Mac Conlon, one of these days I’m going to shoot you for real if you keep scaring me like that.”

  Her heart raced like a runaway horse. Why was he here? Did she dare hope?

  An awkward silence fell between them.

  “Come sit down, Suzie. We need to talk.”

  She sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa while he added wood to the fire he’d just built. He sat down close enough to look deeply into her eyes in the fledgling firelight.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. It’s just that—” the words burst out of her in a rush “—I’ve been so worried about you, Mac. It was so hard being here alone. Nobody knows if Ferrare bought my death or not, and we don’t even know for sure that Ruala’s dead, and then I lost you again—”

  Somehow she ended up in his arms, her face buried against his chest, while sobs shook her shoulders. His big, capable hands rubbed her back gently while she cried it all out.

  “Whoa, there, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. “I came to tell you the DNA results came back today. Ruala’s dead. And, we heard from Ferrare. He bought your fake death. You can go back to your real life now.”

  She smiled up at him in huge relief. And then burst into tears again.

  He rode out the second round of shoulder-heaving sobs with aplomb and then said, “Things can’t be all that bad. We both made it through the op, didn’t we?”

  She nodded, mortified. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen apart like that.

  “Better?” he murmured.

  “Yes. Except I have the hiccups now.”

  She felt his smile against her temple. “Want me to scare them out of you?”

  “No, thank you,” she answered shakily.

  He set her away from him and she looked up into his eyes, which glowed in the flickering light. Just looking at him nourished her soul. How was she ever going to survive without him?

  “I also came to apologize to you, Susan. I never had the guts to do it after the shooting ten years ago. But I’m going to try to get it right this time.”

  She frowned. She didn’t want any apologies from him. She wanted his heart! Her hopes fell, dashed against the rocky, unscalable cliffs of his damned honor.

  He said soberly, “There aren’t words to describe how bad I feel about what you’ve had to go through. If I’d done my job right ten years ago, none of this would have happened. I just want you to know that I’m truly sorry. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

  She closed her eyes against the anguish of listening to him walk away from her again. He might not be doing it with his feet, but he was closing off his heart and shutting down his soul before her very eyes.

  “I brought something for you,” he said quietly. He held out a flat box that looked black in the yellow firelight.

  “What is it?” she asked as she took it.

  “Open it up and see.”

  It was a military medal. In the shape of a heart. She looked up at him questioningly.

  “It’s the Purple Heart I was awarded for the mission to save you.”

  She was vaguely familiar with Purple Hearts. They had something to do with getting hurt or shot. “What’s it for?”

  “Soldiers get one each time they’re wounded in combat.”

  She looked from the medal to him. “Why are you giving it to me?” she asked, confused.

  “Because nobody else is going to thank you for the sacrifice you’ve made for your country. For identifying Ruala and making the call to us. For agreeing to testify against him. For going through the ordeal of the last couple weeks. And for being willing to give up your friends and family for weeks, months or years if Ruala got away from us. I figure after all that, you’ve earned a medal.”

  “Why this one?” she asked, still confused.

  “Because you were wounded a hell of a lot worse than I was by all of this.”

  “How can you say that? Carlos nearly beat you to death. I got a limp and a scar out of it. But you—” Her voice broke. “Colonel Folly told me you may not be able to work with Charlie Squad anymore because of your broken arm.”

  She took a wobbly breath that very nearly broke over into a sob. “God, Mac, it’s all my fault.”

  The words came tumbling out, a
nd she couldn’t stop them. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to cost you your career. I know how much it means to you. I was so stupid to run out of here when I knew Ruala was coming soon….”

  His finger pressed gently against her lips.

  “Suzie. Stop. I don’t blame you for what happened to me. I made my own choices, and this is the price I paid. The important thing is we both got out alive. Ruala’s dead and Ferrare believes you’re dead. The mission was a success. Except for the part where I broke your heart again.”

  She heard his words of absolution, his lips granting her forgiveness, but it meant nothing to her. Her own guilt was too overwhelming to be fixed by any simple statement of exoneration.

  And then it hit her. “Oh my God,” she breathed. She gazed at him in dawning understanding. The revelation that rolled over her took her breath away. Dear God, let it not have come too late.

  “What?” he asked sharply, instantly on full combat alert. He looked quickly all around the room.

  “I get it now,” she gasped.

  He frowned. “You get what?”

  “Why you spent all those years thinking you hadn’t taken care of me like you should have.” He looked confused but she rushed onward. “Is this how you felt after the surveillance van got shot up? Like nothing I could say would ever make it right?” She probably wasn’t making a darn bit of sense. She must sound like she’d lost her mind.

  He stared at her closely. And then he nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s exactly how I felt.”

  “Oh, Mac, when will you ever listen to me about that night?”

  He frowned. “I’m listening now.”

  She grasped his hands in desperation. She spoke slowly, willing him to really hear what she had to say. “If you hadn’t been outside the van and managed to back off Ruala with your suppression fire as fast as you did, I’d have died for sure. You saved my life that night!”

  He stared at her hard. Deep in the back of his eyes, she saw the hard wall around his heart dissolve a little.