Henri wiped his watering eyes with his trembling hand. He regarded Reid somberly. “Last night, your lioness gave her heart to you. I saw it in her face, her eyes, this morning. I urged her to go to the caves alone, to feel her way through this fear of hers. Time alone helps us think clearly. I shared with her that sometimes things happen that make us scared. Even good things make us frightened at times, eh?”
Uncomfortably, Reid rasped, “She was scared?”
Henri shrugged very slowly. “When I saw my adopted daughter six months ago, she was wearing darkness around her.” He made a motion toward his shoulders. “I asked her about the tears in her eyes. She said that someone she loved had died suddenly. Unexpectedly. The three months she spent with us were very sad times for all of us here, because she would not speak of her grief. It is very bad not to cry out or scream out your grief, eh? Perhaps it is the country she comes from, but here we wail, we tear our hair, we cry together, we hold one another through our grief and sadness. We pray together for those spirits who have departed. But grief such as this is not buried as my adopted daughter has tried to bury it.” Henri lifted his eyes toward the deep blue sky. “Something tells me that the storm that came over our village last night was symbolic of what is alive and hurting within her. No?”
“I don’t know,” Reid muttered. “But I can try and find out.”
Pleased, Henri smiled and leaned over and patted his shoulder. “Yes, I feel in my heart that my daughter could begin to heal if you continue to open your heart to her. I feel that last night the process truly began for her. And you are not a stupid young lion. I see your generosity of spirit. You hide your heart. You hide from her how you feel toward her. Perhaps it is time you walk past the fear in your heart and reach out to her, eh? With two very scared young lions, one of them must be courageous enough to move beyond their fear to offer a hand—or a touch, perhaps? Kind words spoken from the heart may be frightening to you, but can be freeing for the other, yes?”
Slowly rising to his feel, Reid dusted off the seat of his pants. “In our country, too few people listen to our elders. I’m not one of them.” He smiled slightly. “What’s the best way to get to these caves?”
When Henri smiled his toothless smile, his laughter rolling like thunder across the village, Reid felt some of his fear melt away.
Chapter Ten
No one was more surprised than Casey when Reid showed up on horseback near noon. The three warriors who had been sent by Grandfather Henri to help her as well as protect her sat outside the cave, talking in low voices and roasting over a fire a gazelle they had brought down earlier. Casey was standing at the fourth cave when she saw Reid on the black Thoroughbred mare. Her heart pounded briefly to underscore the sudden panic and joy she felt.
Watching him dismount, she was once again reminded of his incredible athletic grace. As he tied the mare to a nearby bush and turned, Casey met and held his clear gray gaze. Smiling a little tentatively, she removed the latex gloves from her hands and went forward to meet him.
“Hi, stranger,” she called.
Reid nodded to the three warriors near the first cave. They lifted their hands and shouted a greeting in Bantu to him. He returned it. His Bantu was not as smooth as
Casey’s, but it got his meaning across. Turning his attention to her, he saw that she was decked out in her paper garb. It was obvious she’d been exploring the caves.
Coming to a halt less than three feet from her, he rested his hands on his hips. The paper hood hid her glorious mass of red hair except for a few tendrils peeking out here and there in defiance of the rules of scientific study. Reid grinned a little—her hair was like her.
“Having fun this morning, are we?”
Relief sheeted through Casey as she dropped the latex gloves in a biohazard bucket. “Caves. You know, I can’t resist them. When Grandfather Henri told me about them this morning, I gotta ‘fess up and tell you, I was all ears.”
“Hmm,” Reid said, gazing around at the four caves, which sat in a semicircle around them. “Bats, right? The lure of finding a new species of bat to dissect to see if it is the reservoir?”
“Yep.” She sighed. “The warriors have been helping me. We’ve found three new species so far.” She turned and pointed to the fourth cave. “This cave is tricky and small. It’s less that four feet high and winds back like a wind tunnel. The farther you go into it, the smaller it becomes.” She looked at the front of her paper suit. It was smudged with dirt and debris. Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I crawled back on my belly as far as I could, took a lot of photos, and I just got out when you arrived.”
Frowning, Reid studied the area. He was more than a little aware of the warriors benignly watching them from a distance. “Did they scout the area for possible Black Dawn operatives?”
“Oh, yes,” Casey assured him. She liked his presence, that sense of safety Reid always gave her. Pointing to her table, where all the items she needed for dissecting were located, she said, “I want to get rid of this paper suit and put on a new one for dissection. Help me?”
Any chance to touch her was always high on Reid’s list
of secret, unbidden desires. “Sure.” He walked over to the folding table, leaned down and retrieved two new pairs of latex gloves. Handing one set to Casey, he put the other pair on. The goggles she wore were angled up on her brow. She took them off and handed them to him. He placed them in a bucket of water and bleach. Bleach would effectively kill any bacteria or virus she might have picked up while in the caves.
After Casey got into a clean set of protective gear—and three sets of gloves, just in case—they worked in companionable silence, side by side. She worked slowly and carefully at the table, a scalpel in one hand. Reid’s job was to hold the opened cavity of the bat so that she could take a sample and place it on a glass slide. Once the liquid was smeared across the glass, Reid carefully put a clean slide over it to protect it. Then he labeled the slide with the bat species, numbered and dated. The slide was then taped and carefully put in an awaiting box to be sent to the OID, where a high-powered electron microscope would be used to see if it contained the deadly Ebola virus or not. The noon heat was palpable and sweat trickled down the sides of Reid’s face as they worked on the third and final specimen. There was such a precision to Casey’s work. She knew what she was doing and was completely focused on it. He liked to watch her graceful hand movements. He liked the fact that their elbows and hands touched many times. Each time, a frisson of heat would fly through him, reminding Reid how much he enjoyed her nearness.
Just as he opened the chest cavity on the last bat, he heard one of the warriors shout. Instantly, Reid jerked his hands away from the bat, thinking that the warrior had spotted a terrorist. As he whirled to the left, he heard a gasp from Casey. At once Reid jerked his attention back to her. Her eyes were huge; her lips were parted in a soundless cry. Following her gaze, his heart grew icy with fear.
“Oh no… .” Casey whispered. She stared down at her hand—and a slit that had appeared in the layers of her latex covering her index finger. When Reid had jerked his hands away in reaction to the warrior’s shout, the chest cavity on the bat had snapped shut, jamming the scalpel into her left index finger.
Her heart pounded hard in her chest.
“Damn it!” Hunter rasped. He turned to look at the warrior. The young man had leaped to his feet from his crouched position near the fire and was madly brushing the front of his loincloth. Apparently, from what Reid could make out, a spark from the fire had landed on the warrior’s clothing.
Icy fear threaded through Reid as he devoted all his attention to Casey. Her face went pale as she stared down at her gloved left hand. When he saw the slit in the light green latex, he wanted to cry. No! Had the scalpel gone through all three sets of gloves and sliced into her finger?
“Get the gloves off,” he told her tersely. “Now, Casey. Hurry.” He was already reaching for the bucket of bleach and the strong disinfectant soap th
at sat nearby. What if she had been cut? What if this bat had Ebola in it? His gaze shot to her. She was standing there, petrified, her left hand held upward. He saw the blood from the bat smeared on her fingertips. Or was it her blood? It was impossible to tell. Why was she standing there? She knew the procedures.
“Casey?”
Just the way he snapped her name made her jump. Mouth dry, Casey shot a look over at his hard, sweaty features. She saw terror in Reid’s eyes, and her memory of the day she and Steve had been in the hot zone came flashing back to her. Was this how she had looked when Steve had been bitten by the monkey? The expression on Reid’s face mirrored terror, concern and… love? Too frightened, Casey didn’t have time to take in all the feelings that were so alive in his almost colorless eyes. His pupils were huge and black and focused—on her.
“Step away,” he growled. Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her back from the table. She was behaving as if in shock. And why wouldn’t she be? Reid felt a scream working its way up through his throat. Breathing hard, he removed her goggles and threw them on the ground. Very quickly, he ripped the paper suit off her. How pale Casey had become. He wondered if she was going to faint. Wouldn’t he if he had been cut?
Never in his life had he felt like crying more than in this moment as he guided her to a stump and made her sit down. All she could do was stare at her cut glove. Reid understood only too well what was going on in her mind— and heart. Steve had been bitten by a monkey and had been infected with Ebola. Now it could be happening to her. Wanting to cry out at the unfairness of it all, Hunter gripped her lower arm and peeled off the first glove that had been sliced through.
Please, please don’t let her be cut. He prayed the litany over and over as he gripped the edge of the second glove, a hot pink color. They both stared at it; it, too, had been sliced through. The likelihood of the third one being cut was very real now. He heard Casey groan.
Grimly, breathing hard, Reid began to peel the second glove off her hand. There was blood on it; that wasn’t a good sign. His fingers were trembling badly now as he tried to pull the cuff of the glove forward to expose the fingers of the white glove beneath it.
Casey’s eyes bulged. Her heart was pounding heavily in her breast. Was she going to die like Steve had? The thought careened through her. At the same time, a cry of disbelief choked her throat. She didn’t want to die! She was in love with Reid. She wanted a chance to tell him that. She wanted a chance to live once more, to reach out and love once more. Was Ebola going to cheat her of it in its macabre way? Tears stung Casey’s eyes and she held her breath as Reid pulled the pink glove free. Instantly, her gaze shot to her index finger.
Hunter gasped. He gripped her hand hard and knelt down. “Look! Look!” His cry was choked off as he forced Casey to look at the white glove.
“Oh, God… thank you… .” she whispered unsteadily. Fierce relief sheeted through her.
They stared at her white glove, the last defense between her and death. The index finger was intact. It had not been sliced through by the scalpel. Shakily, Casey pulled the latex glove off her hand. They studied her index finger carefully just to make sure.
“The skin’s not broken,” Hunter rasped as he held her hand between his. “It’s not broken… not broken… .”
Casey leaned forward, her brow pressed against Hunter’s broad shoulder. She felt his care of her, heard the raw terror in his voice and saw his love for her in his narrowed, intense eyes. “Hold me… .” she quavered. “Just… hold me? I need you… .”
Her words were so sweet, so unbidden, that without thinking, Reid leaned forward and eased her off the stump so that he could fold her into his embrace. Suddenly it was so easy, so natural between them. He heard her moan softly as his arms encased her and he drew her hard against him and held her. Simply held her.
“It’s okay,” he breathed harshly against her ear. Closing his eyes, Reid could do nothing but gently rock Casey back and forth in his arms. She clung silently to him, her face pressed against his neck and jaw. He felt the skittering of her wild heartbeat. Her sobs of relief. The hotness of her tears as they coursed down the thick column of his neck.
Groaning, Reid turned that scant inch and pressed a shaky kiss to her cheek. “I need you,” he rasped. And he did. In these last few seconds, her life could have been snatched unfairly from him. Grandfather Henri’s words floated back to him as he raised his hand and traced the clean line of Casey’s jaw. His heart swelled, opened, and he was helpless to do anything but follow his feelings, his need of her.
Without thinking, he guided her mouth to his. He felt her tremble violently in his arms, felt the soft rush of moistness as she broke the kiss momentarily. Blindly, he molded his mouth against hers once again. He wasn’t going to let Casey escape. He was going to love her the only way he knew how, to let her know that he celebrated her living.
This time, she arched against him. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her arms went around his shoulders. The world came to a speeding halt for Reid. He felt the strength of her mouth returning his unbridled, hungry kiss. Threading his fingers through her fiery, silky hair, he claimed her in no uncertain terms and refused to allow her to escape the power, the volcanic flow of feelings he’d held at bay for so long. It felt good to slide his mouth against hers, to feel her returning fervor. Her mouth opened wider, asking him to explore her, take her more deeply and to share in this chaotic moment where life and death had hung precariously in the balance.
Hunter felt as if they were dancing on the edge of a deadly saber blade. Now, as he traced her lower lip with his tongue and she moaned softly for more, he smiled to himself. He’d had the strength to overcome his own fear of Casey, his terror of her rejecting him, and she was here, in his arms, as she should be. As she was meant to be. As quickly as a flash of lightning, everything had changed between them. They were both stunned by the event, and yet they found solace and healing in each other’s hungry, clinging mouths their hands ranging hungrily across each other in bold exploration.
Tearing his mouth from hers, Reid studied her, her face mere inches from his own. He saw the turbulence in her sultry green eyes, saw the desire in them for him alone. The observation made him giddy with joy. Reaching out, he caressed her unruly red hair and gave her a trembling smile.
“You’re going to be all right now,” he rasped.
Casey closed her eyes. She surrendered to Reid’s strength and care in that moment. Surrendered utterly. How good it felt! Casey absorbed him, his rasping comment, and simply felt how good it could be to be touched, cherished and worshipped by a man who loved her. Who she believed loved her anyway. Nestling her head against his neck, she sighed raggedly, unable to sort out her reeling and explosive emotions. Later, she would try to figure all this out. Too much was happening too fast. Moments ago, she’d thought she was going to die of Ebola, as Steve had. Now she was celebrating life, celebrating love, in Reid’s protective arms.
In two short months, so much had changed. Casey could barely think. All she could do was feel the power of Reid’s heart against her ear, feel his powerful arms around her and the tender way he continued to graze her cheek, her hair and shoulders. Life was being turned upside down for her. In two weeks they would be taking the slides to Yambuku, to be sent to the OID. Time was hurrying by so fast. Casey clung to Reid, filled in every possible way with her need for him.
“Hey, you ready to have these driven to Yambuku?” Reid called to Casey from the truck.
Casey looked up from the makeshift table in front of their hut. The early August sun boiled overhead. Perspiration dotted her furrowed brow as she scooped up the shipment containing the latest slides to be sent to the OID.
“Yeah! Hold on just a sec!” She leaned over and grabbed her journal, which would go along with the specimens. Trotting toward the truck, Casey knew that Reid had to hurry or he would miss the colonel, who wanted to make a punctual landing at the Yambuku airport. He didn’t li
ke waiting around and Reid knew it.
As she halted at the driver’s-side door, she smiled at Reid. His returning smile was easy and filled with warmth. She felt blanketed, as always, by his attention. As she handed him the carefully prepared box, Casey wondered where the last months had flown. She was amazed at how much more she knew about Reid because he’d opened up to her by telling her a story each night. She marveled at his storytelling skills. But it was more than that, she acknowledged. The incident two weeks ago, when they’d thought the scalpel had sliced into her finger, had been a crucial turning point in their relationship. From then on, they were more intimate with one another. She looked forward to those times when Reid would reach out and shyly touch her hand, her arm. Or sometimes… rarely… he would slide his arm around her shoulders, give her a quick embrace and then release her.
How Casey loved those moments! They were too infrequent, but under the circumstances, the pace that Reid had set for them was the right one. He knew of her past with Steve. But her grief seemed to have been permanently laid to rest within her. Perhaps her mourning had reached closure, as it should. Now a new door in her heart was opening up—to Reid Hunter.
“Sure you don’t want to come along?” Reid asked as he placed the package on the seat next to him.
Heart of the Hunter Page 16
