Hunter wondered if he was losing it completely. He blamed the situation for his undoing. Unbuckling his belt, he rose abruptly. “Stay here. I’m going forward to see what’s going down.”
Her knees felt weak, so she didn’t mind obeying his order. Usually she was the one in charge of field missions, but this time, Casey was grateful that Reid Hunter was with her. The sensation of his steely embrace remained hotly imprinted upon her skin like a brand. In those moments when she’d thought they were going to die it had felt wonderful to press her face against his chest and just be held by him.
Casey watched as Reid moved carefully toward the cockpit. He was a man who was very knowledgeable about a lot of things, she realized. Grateful that the defense department had given her Reid as an assistant, Casey swore she wouldn’t ever rail against the military again. Reid knew what was going down. He had the experience, and he’d helped her negotiate this near disaster. Touching her rain-soaked arm, Casey felt an incredible warmth suffusing her chest and encircling her heart. Reid was surprising. And she found herself wanting to know more, much more, about the man who hid from his emotions behind that wall he’d erected so firmly.
Looking around the dimly lit hold, she wondered if there was going to be time to get to know him. At first she’d seen him as a pain in the butt, someone she’d have to shepherd along as she tried to do field research. Now the shoe was on the other foot. Would she be a liability to him? Only time would tell. As she rolled up the cuffs on her shirtsleeves, Casey knew the danger around them would be so palpable that they probably wouldn’t have time to get to know one another on a personal level.
No, Reid’s job was to protect her. Of all the places, Casey groused to herself, to find a man she was genuinely interested in—in this country where life and death were one and the same with breathing in and out. What made her think, under the circumstances, that she would be able to know Reid at all?
Chapter Five
“night and day difference,” Reid said as they stepped off the ramp of the C-130, which had landed at Yambuku. The sun shone brightly through holes in the low-hanging, pregnant gray clouds. It had been raining like hell in Kinshasa, but the farther north they flew, the less it rained. Maybe it was a good sign. Here, surrounded by palm trees and other hardwoods, it had barely sprinkled. Because Yambuku sat on the northern edge of the rain forest, rainy and dry seasons were often sporadic.
As they stood outside the fuselage of the Hercules, Reid studied the airstrip, which, although made of concrete, badly needed maintenance. The colonel, who was one helluva pilot, in Reid’s estimation, had dodged all the potholes and the major fissures in the concrete and had brought them in for a safe landing.
Casey looked around fondly. “Home,” she murmured. The humidity was high, but not intolerable here. She was glad to be wearing her utilitarian cotton suit. Though it was nearly three p.m. local time, she felt groggy and lethargic. She hated jet lag more than anything else. Their situation demanded alertness, and she struggled to maintain a semblance of it as Reid helped the airmen unload a number of boxes bound for a beat-up red sports utility vehicle that was parked nearby. The truck would be their transportation to the village, back to Grandfather Henri and his warm, welcoming people. Casey looked forward to seeing the old chieftain, who had adopted her the first year she’d stayed with them at the village.
Colonel Nsonjui emerged from the ramp of the C-130 and approached Casey. “The terrorists destroyed the makeshift field lab completely,” he told her in a low tone. “All of this is from our warehouse in Kinshasa.”
“OID equipment?”
“Yes.” Nsonjui smiled and scratched his head as he looked around the area. “It is material from the last epidemic when Ebola struck. I make sure there are guards posted around the clock to keep these items safe.”
Casey was grateful for the colonel’s care and understanding because not all military officials thought highly of the OID and foreign scientific agencies, despite the fact that those agencies were engaged at the Zairian government’s request. She knew the colonel grasped the importance of it all. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Colonel,” she said, smiling up at the tall, lean officer. “You did quite a job of flying us out of Kinshasa, too.”
“Emergency times require emergency procedures, don’t they?”
“Yes,” Casey said dryly, and then murmured, “I need to help my assistant. Thank you, again.” She held out her hand to him.
Nisonjui picked up her hand, turned it over and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it. “A pleasure, Mademoiselle. I will be back here in two weeks with resupply. You have a comsat link. You know how to contact me if you need me.”
He was a throwback to the old days of Zaire, Casey thought as she watched the proud colonel climb back into the aircraft after the last box was off-loaded. French manners, French speaking and very French about women. Still, he was a pearl among pebbles in this dangerous territory, and Casey thanked her lucky stars for him.
Sweat stood out on Reid’s brow as he put the last box of equipment into the Land Rover. He wiped the beads of perspiration away with the back of his hand. Thanking the two airmen, who had helped make an arduous job easier, he shook their hands and waved goodbye to them as they hurried back to the C-130. As Casey joined him, he gestured toward the plane.
“Take a look at the bullet holes stitching up the side of the fuselage there,” he said, pointing to them.
“Wow… ” Casey murmured.
“We sat over there, maybe a foot away from the nearest hole.” He studied her. There was shock as well as a resigned acceptance of a cold reality on her face. “We got lucky.”
Gulping unsteadily, Casey tore her gaze from the bullet holes. “At least we have luck, Hunter.” She opened the back door of the vehicle and dropped her briefcase in on the seat. “I’ll drive. I know the road to Grandfather Henri’s village.”
Reid held up his hands and walked around to the passenger door. “No argument from me, Doctor.” He looked up at the sun. “How many hours to the village?”
Climbing in, Casey grinned sourly. She promptly put on her seat belt and made sure it was snug. As Reid got in and shut the door, she said, “Well, if it was a paved road, an hour. But since this is backwoods Zaire, where roads wash out during the rainy season and new ones are made during the dry season, the answer is who knows? Depends upon how much traffic is on the road, how many donkeys, carts and folks, not to mention how many ruts and holes we have to negotiate around, too.” She leaned over, the key already in the ignition. “This old truck has been around since the first time I was here, five years ago.”
“It’s a little weather-beaten,” Reid said, looking around.
The windows had been cleaned haphazardly, but there was mud and dust coating everything. He gazed through the dusty glass at the thick palm trees that bordered the makeshift runway. He heard the engine grind and then catch. The truck came alive, a shudder running through the vehicle. Moving his shoulder holster a little in order to get more comfortable, he glanced over at Casey, who had put the durable vehicle into Drive. He saw the shadows beneath her eyes and the strain at the corners of her mouth.
As they slowly moved away from the little airport and down a deeply rutted, muddy road, Reid opened the window and placed his arm on the sill. The wind was humid, but it felt good.
“Any air-conditioning in this thing?” he asked.
Chortling, Casey shook her head. “Air-conditioning? Out here? You gotta be kidding!” She drove with both hands firmly on the wheel. Ahead were a group of colorfully clothed women, some balancing on their heads huge handwoven baskets filled with vegetables and fruit bound for the Yambuku markets. The road was the main one between the small town and the outlying villages that peppered the savanna up ahead.
The thick groves of palm trees were slowly giving way to grassy plains. At this time of year, with the sporadic rain, the grass was a bright green and close to knee high. In the distance, Casey could see ze
bra, wildebeests and springing brown-and-white gazelles. They lived in herds of hundreds and thousands out on the wide-open, sprawling plain during the rainy season. It was a sight to behold, one that always awed her.
Reid noticed that most of the traffic on the dirt road was pedestrian or donkey. It was rare that they encountered another car, and when they did, it was either a military jeep or a sports utility vehicle like theirs. This was tough country, for tough vehicles only. He divided his attention between Casey, who drove carefully, avoiding the major ruts and huge craters in the road, and the people around them.
The sweet fragrance of recent rain on the parched earth, the scent of fresh grass and other less agreeable odors filled his nostrils. The breeze coming in the open windows lifted Casey’s hair from time to time.
“Now I know why you have short hair,” he said with a grin.
Casey glanced sideways at him for just a moment. It would be foolhardy not to pay attention to this disaster of a dirt road. One wrong move and their vehicle could break an axle or have its underside ripped out in one of the huge potholes. “Oh?”
“The humidity here is pretty overwhelming.”
“Short hair is the order of the day. It’s easy to wash in a rainstorm, easy for someone to look through for ticks and other vermin, and the less hair, the less sweat on the back of my neck.” She flashed him an eager smile. “In this country, you don’t know who to trust. Grandfather Henri is someone you can. He’s a gentleman from the nineteenth century. You’ll love him.”
Reid wasn’t sure about loving the old chieftain, but the glimmer of joy in Casey’s eyes made him feel a twinge of jealousy. “How long have you known him?”
“Five years.” She waved her hand out the window toward the savanna on both sides of the narrow road. “He adopted me as his daughter the first year I came here. So many of the villages are gone, but his stays. Coming from a hereditary line of chieftains, Henri has been able to adapt to the changing politicians and governments, yet keep his village and people intact. Believe me, that’s a miracle in itself.”
“I don’t have a file on him,” Reid said, frowning.
“Consider him a guardian angel,” Casey advised. She gazed out across the savanna. The thousands of animals that grazed on its succulent green grass made her heart swell with happiness. “This is the Africa I love so much! Just getting to watch the wildlife, so free, unfettered… “
Hearing the longing in her husky voice, Reid enjoyed the changing landscape of animals even more. The zebras, their black-and-white hides looking like busy, ever-changing geometric patterns, were a contrast to the hulking, slow-moving elephant herd that lingered to eat choice morsels of leaves from the edge of the rain forest.
Above them, the sky was a burning, brilliant cobalt that almost hurt his eyes. Thunderheads lay to the west and south, and Reid wondered if they would be in for some nasty storms later this evening. He wasn’t at all familiar with African weather so he had no idea. Maybe the threatening white, turbulent clouds would disappear when the sun went down, like they did in the States. He wasn’t sure.
Just getting to steal a peek every now and then at Casey as she drove made him happy. Joy was palpable in her glowing expression, in the way her green eyes had begun to shine with eagerness, despite her jet lag.
“What do you think so far?” Casey asked, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Of what?”
“Of Africa. Doesn’t she steal your heart? Invigorate your soul?”
It was impossible not to smile a little. “Doctor, I do believe that setting foot on African soil has turned you into a ten-year-old girl at heart.”
Laughing gaily, Casey nodded. “Oh, yes! It’s my home away from home, maybe because Grandfather Henri made me feel a part of his huge family. He took the OID team in like we were a part of his village. He’s so generous and wise. His wives do all the cooking, and every night, after a long, hard, sweaty day in the rain forest, we’d trudge back and our huts would be cleaned, there would be wonderful food cooking for us, and all his children and grandchildren would be there to help us, if we asked for help.”
“There’s a lot of danger here, too,” he said.
“Africa, for me,” Casey told him, “is a dance between darkness and light. Life and death. One false step, one time you’re not paying attention, and you could step on an adder or black mamba snake. The next, Thomson’s gazelles come springing past you, stealing your breath and your heart with their incredibly graceful leaps.”
“I think you like living close to the edge,” he declared, unable to keep his smile from her.
Casey reacted powerfully to the smile lurking at the corners of his very strong male mouth. “Isn’t that what living is all about? Not the social niceties all the time. Not the safe, secure world.” She gestured with her hand. “The lions are sitting on the edge of the savanna right now. The zebras and wildebeests ignore them. Come sundown, they won’t. They know when it’s feeding time, and that one of them will be the meal.”
“It’s the same for you,” he said in a deep voice. “You trap an insect, a reptile or whatever, and carefully open it up in hopes of finding Ebola in it. One slip of the scalpel in your fingers, and you could infect yourself.”
Pursing her lips, she said, “Yes, that’s living on the edge, too.”
“Maybe this isn’t any of my business, but you’re a woman with adventure in her blood. Do you ever see yourself settling down? Having a family?” Reid knew he had absolutely no reason to get personal with Casey, but damn it, she invited that kind of exploration. As he studied her clean profile, her skin glistening from the high temperature and humidity, he saw her mouth tighten for a moment. It was nothing obvious, but he caught it. Or perhaps he sensed it.
Shrugging, Casey felt tension gathering in her shoulders. Gripping the wheel a little more firmly, she tried to sound airy and light in her retort to him. “I could ask the same of you, couldn’t I?” Inwardly, she cringed. She knew she was being defensive, but she didn’t want Reid inspecting her emotional scars. They were way too fresh and she was still burdened with so much grief she had yet to release. Still, Casey found herself wanting to divulge her awful past to him. There was a part of Hunter that she knew, on some gut level, was capable of not only understanding, but also of healing her heart. That realization was so shocking to Casey she nearly choked.
With a slight, derisive laugh, Reid muttered, “Let’s just put it this way, good doctor—my personal plans were deep-sixed a long time ago. Besides, I was never cut out for home, family or being a father.”
Casey wasn’t so sure. She heard pain in Reid’s strained tone even though he’d tried to gracefully dodge her query. When she gave him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, she saw him frowning, the slashes in his cheeks deep and pronounced, as if he were holding back a lot of pain he hadn’t worked through yet. But then again, she was no prize in that department either, she thought. How long had it taken her to attract a man? Not that she’d worked at it, but her mom was worried that Casey would end up single and old and alone—like her mother was ever since her father’s untimely death.
Wiping her fingers quickly on the material across her thigh, Casey tried to sound flippant. “Let’s face it, Hunter, some people aren’t meant for marriage, much less a long-term relationship.” Hers had lasted one year. The best year—the worst year—of her life. The anguish cutting through her heart was nearly overwhelming to Casey. Compressing her lips, she pointed ahead to a group of white, round buildings with thick, yellow thatched roofs.
“There! That’s Grandfather Henri’s village up ahead! I wonder if he knows we’re coming? Trying to get word out here is impossible unless you have a comsat link or hookup, and he refuses to own anything mechanical.”
Up ahead, the village stretched for nearly half a mile, flowing out onto the edge of the thousand-mile-wide savanna. The circular homes, made of dry, packed clay, gleamed whitely in the burning sunlight. The roofs were thatched with a co
mbination of dried palm leaves and long savanna grass. They looked like messy hen’s nests and reminded Casey of heads with yellow hair. She smiled, filled with euphoria because she loved Africa and especially this village and its people.
There were huge herds of cattle out on the savanna contentedly eating their fill of the green, succulent grass. They were tended by nearly naked young boys, who waved at Casey and Reid as they drove by. Reid wondered if the lions got to the herds or if Grandfather Henri had some kind of defense system to keep his cattle safe.
More and more people filled the dirt road—children carrying wood, mothers with large woven baskets balanced delicately on their heads, all in a swirl of rainbow-colored clothes.
The villagers moved to the edges of the dirt road on thickly callused bare feet. As the truck slowed to nearly a crawl, Casey would lean out the window and call out a name and greeting in Bantu. The child or woman would turn, the suspicious look changing to one of utter delight, followed by shrills and calls of excitement.
Several children ran up to their vehicle. Casey laughed and reached out as one young girl, her head a mass of little pigtails all tied off in red yarn, gave her a yellow orchid with a purple lip.
“Thank you!” Casey called out in Bantu. She carefully tucked the fragrant orchid into her shirt pocket and chuckled. A number of older children forged ahead of them, yelling and screaming as they moved into the village itself.
“The kids will make sure Grandpa Henri knows we’re here.” Casey pulled over and braked next to a small, thatched hut. She turned and unbuckled her seat belt. “We’ve arrived,” she told Reid huskily.
“Home?”
Looking up, she met and held his warm gray gaze. “Yes, home… ” The smoldering look he gave her made her nerves go hot with longing. There was no misjudging his expression. She was thirty years old, not some naive girl. Opening the door, she said breathlessly, “Just follow me. I know where Grandfather Henri’s hut is located.”
Heart of the Hunter Page 8
