Jake glanced over at Morgan. Her face was flushed, and she appeared wan. He didn’t want to leave her, afraid the General didn’t understand the extent of Morgan’s emotional instability. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, opening the door and leaving.
Maya pulled up a chair and sat down, facing her in the quiet. “How are you really doing, Morgan?”
Folding her hands in her lap, Morgan admitted, “Up and down, ma’am.”
“I’ve been wounded before. I know what it’s like to come back out of hell.” Maya searched her face. “I didn’t know you and Lieutenant Ramsey had a relationship?”
Morgan chewed on her lower lip. “We go back a long ways, ma’am. Nine years, to be exact.”
“And it didn’t interfere in this op?”
“No, it didn’t.” Morgan cleared her throat. “We’ve loved one another through hell and high water. Never could make it work until…now…maybe….” Nothing was forever, Morgan knew from too much experience with Jake.
Maya sat back, studying her. “Secrets. There’s always secrets, aren’t there?”
“I guess so, ma’am.”
“There’s some things you need to know,” Maya said quietly. “Lieutenant Ramsey sent in his report by email to me and General Houston. That’s why I’m unofficially here today.”
What had Jake written to bring a General to her bedside? Morgan wasn’t sure how to take the news. “Yes, ma’am?”
“You’ve more than shown beyond any doubt that a woman can handle combat,” Maya began. “Lieutenant Ramsey clearly outlined your influence in the op. I’m very proud of you, Morgan. You have what it takes and then some. You come from a set of military parents. You two survived a firefight that, by all rights, should have brought both of you back here in body bags.”
The chill ran through Morgan. She closed her eyes for a moment, clearly remembering every second of that desperate escape and being trapped in the wadi with Jake. Opening her eyes, her voice roughened, Morgan said, “Neither of us expected to make it out alive, either, ma’am.”
“Well,” Maya said, straightening in the chair, “you two pulled off the impossible. You had a lousy sniping shot position in the first place. The Apaches couldn’t shoot anyone in that wadi. They had no idea who was who. You were up against a force four times larger than your own. I’m damned proud of you, Morgan.”
“You need to be proud of Jake, too, ma’am. We were a team. It took both of us to survive that firefight and kill Khogani.”
“Understood,” Maya murmured. “But you’re one of the women proving to the JCOS that women can handle combat. You did that.”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, I really don’t think I deserve to be put up for a Silver Star. Jake was just as brave and courageous as I was in that wadi. You weren’t there. I was.”
Maya nodded. “Well, a couple of things set you apart from Lieutenant Ramsey during that firefight,” she said. “You took a bullet to the front and back of your Kevlar. Once Lieutenant Ramsey was down, you deliberately exposed yourself to Taliban fire in an effort to protect him. Lieutenant Ramsey received no hits to his Kevlar.” Maya’s voice dropped to a growl. “You aren’t in a position to see your courage, Morgan. General Houston was the one who suggested putting you up for a Silver Star, not me.”
Gulping, Morgan sat back, feeling stunned. A Silver Star was for meritorious bravery under fire. “I…didn’t know, ma’am. This is the first day I’m fully conscious. I haven’t written my report yet.”
“No hurry,” Maya reassured her. “But I don’t think it’s going to deviate from what Lieutenant Ramsey wrote, do you?” She drilled a hard look into Morgan’s eyes. “Don’t conveniently leave out any details, Captain Boland.”
“No, ma’am, I’ll be thorough,” Morgan promised, her voice low. She could see the hardness come to Stevenson’s expression. “I just don’t want a medal because I’m a woman in combat is all,” she challenged the General.
Maya smiled. “Fair enough. I understand now where you’re coming from.”
“My mother’s CO, Major Louise Lane, tried to do that. She wrote up every woman for a medal who fired a rifle in that conflict over in Thailand. It was purely political.”
“That won’t happen here, Morgan. I can promise you that. That is why there is a male and female General running this covert operation. Two sets of eyes. Both genders. There tends not to be the skewed results that Major Lane managed to manipulate, this time around. It’s a different time and place, Morgan. I have no desire for female volunteers to step into the arena unless they’re clear about the consequences of making that decision.”
Morgan watched the tall General rise to her feet. “That’s good to know, ma’am. I don’t want publicity or press, either.”
“Won’t happen. This is top secret. Goes directly into the Pentagon vaults and is kept that way.” Maya smiled a little, walking over to her bedside. “Maybe, a hundred years into the future, the Pentagon will bring this operation out from under the covers. By that time, we’ll all be dead and gone. It will then become a piece of history.”
Morgan nodded. “That’s good, because I don’t want to be a celebrity like my mother was forced into becoming.”
“Major Lane was a publicity hound who didn’t care about her women or their courage under fire. No one is going to know on my watch, Morgan.”
Releasing a breath, she whispered, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“How’s your leg?” Maya pointed toward the tent over her legs.
Mouth quirking, Morgan told her what Dr. Cramer had said.
“There’s a silver lining to this. You need to know that Lieutenant Ramsey, after regaining consciousness inside the Bagram hospital, did something you should know about. And knowing him, he’d never tell you.”
Puzzled, Morgan asked, “What?” Jake had said nothing about Bagram.
“The ortho docs at Bagram assessed your injury. They were going to amputate your leg, Morgan. Luckily, the head surgeon came to Jake to ask him some questions. When he found out that the surgeons were going to merely stabilize you and send you here to Landstuhl to have it amputated, all hell broke loose. He came off that gurney, I guess, and grabbed the surgeon by his scrubs and told him he was not going to amputate your leg.”
Maya grinned, reaching out to cover Morgan’s hand. “The surgeon backed down, obviously in shock over Ramsey’s attack. The Lieutenant then, bleeding and limping, found an office, got to a landline and called me at the Pentagon. He told me the situation, upset and angry. I then placed a call to my friend and surgeon, Colonel Waltrip. He’s head surgeon here at Landstuhl. I asked him to reevaluate your injury once you arrived.
“At Bagram, they did the hard work to save your leg. By the time you arrived here, Colonel Waltrip said they could save it.” She patted Morgan’s hand, seeing her eyes widen with shock. “That’s quite a big guard dog you have in Lieutenant Ramsey. Now I know why he went to such efforts—that’s love.”
She considered the General’s explanation. “My God,” Morgan managed, automatically reaching out to touch her left leg. “They were going to amputate it?”
“Yes. Lieutenant Ramsey fought a different kind of battle for you, Morgan. Another kind of front. I can’t award him a Silver Star for his courage under a different sort of fire, but I have a feeling he’ll never tell you about this. SEALs are notorious for being closemouthed and humble. They think it’s bragging, so I’m telling you so you know the rest of the story. He’d take that info to his grave.”
Shaken, Morgan whispered, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“On to business,” Maya said brusquely. “You’re scheduled on a C-5 flight back to Bethesda medical center near Washington, D.C., two days from now. There, I’ll make damn sure you’ve got the finest ortho and physical-therapy team they can assemble, to help you get back on your feet. And I’ll make sure Lieutenant Ramsey is there, at your side, every step of the way.” Maya reached out, resting her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “We’ll be monitorin
g the situation, Morgan. If you need anything, you know my phone number.”
Grateful, Morgan nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. It means a lot to me….”
Chapter Twenty
Jake quietly entered Morgan’s room once General Stevenson and her assistants left. Morgan was resting, eyes closed. What had they spoken about? “How are you doing?” he asked, concerned.
Morgan opened her eyes, hearing his low voice. “Tired,” she answered and held out her hand toward him. She wasn’t disappointed as Jake limped over, his large hand engulfing hers. In as few words as possible, she told him what had happened, sidestepping the information about the leg-amputation confrontation he’d had with the surgeon at Bagram.
Jake leaned over and tucked several strands of crimson hair behind her ear. “I was worried the General was going to upset you. Right now, you need rest, not a parade of well-wishers.” He framed her face and looked deeply into her shadowed eyes.
“She called you a big, bad SEAL guard dog,” Morgan whispered, meeting his descending mouth. “She was right…. You are….”
She drowned in his tender kiss. Morgan hadn’t experienced the nurturing side of Jake until this mission. As he eased his mouth from her wet lips, she looked up into his clear gray eyes that glinted with happiness. Was this how Jake had been with his chronically ill mother? Caring? Thoughtful? Morgan had so many questions for this man, and she didn’t know where to begin.
“This afternoon I’ll get a landline phone in here so you can call your parents,” he said, pulling the chair over, sitting down and facing Morgan.
“I can hardly wait,” Morgan said, suddenly emotional. And she’d finally be able to talk with Emma. My God, how much she missed her daughter. Especially now, realizing she had almost died. “We need to talk, Jake. You think I’m a fragile egg that’s going to break.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” he warned, holding her gaze. Her cheeks were flushed from their kiss. It was so easy to care for Morgan because he loved her.
“I’m not that fragile, Ramsey.” She managed a partial smile. “The General said we’re heading home in two days. I don’t know about you, but it’s going to feel good to be back on U.S. soil.”
Jake couldn’t disagree. “I don’t know how General Stevenson is going to get the SEAL command to let me stay with you for thirty days at Bethesda medical center. If she can do that, she’s number one in my book. I’m glad I can be there for you, Morgan. The doctors have been filling me in on your recovery.”
Jake knew it would be a long, painful road for Morgan. She’d find out soon enough. Right now, he wanted to give her time to absorb the trauma she’d survived. He was glad to play rearguard action to give her the downtime she so desperately needed. He would always have her back.
“I called your parents when we were at Bagram,” he confessed. “Dr. Thornton figured out you and I were close, and he asked if I wanted to do it. I told him I did.”
Morgan gave him a startled look. “You talked to them?”
“Actually, twice. The first time, I talked to your father. Your mother was asleep. I told him you were alive and going to make it.”
Pressing her hand to her pounding heart, Morgan felt some trepidation. Had her father mentioned Emma? Feeling guilty enough, she didn’t want to deal with that situation right now with Jake. “What did you talk about?”
Jake held her hand, feeling the strength and firmness of her fingers. “You. It was a short call. I told him I’d call once you were out of surgery here at Landstuhl, and I did. I know how parents worry, and I wanted to keep them updated on your condition. The second time, your mother answered, and I got to talk with her. They’re relieved, to say the least. I told them as soon as you were conscious and felt better, you’d call them.”
“Thank you for doing that.”
He shrugged. “You’d do it for me if I had parents to call.”
She felt a little sad for Jake, and he was trying to make light of the situation. “Yes, I would have,” Morgan told him softly, squeezing his hand.
Jake stood up, releasing her fingers. Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her brow. “Get some rest, babe. I’ll drop in and see how you are in a couple of hours.”
Giving him a weary smile, Morgan murmured, “Sounds good. I feel like I’m going to drop through a hole.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s normal after getting wounded. Get some sleep….”
Jake waited patiently outside Morgan’s room as she made her call home. She was stuck in bed, unable to walk or move around. The metal pins holding her femur together made her bed-bound for a minimum of six weeks before they would allow her in a wheelchair. He thought of ways to keep her engaged after they flew to the States. Morgan would go stir-crazy at the Bethesda medical center if she had nothing to engage her mind.
When the red light went on outside her room, meaning she had pressed the button for a nurse’s help, it was a signal for him to come in. Jake rose from the chair and opened the door. Morgan’s face was flushed from crying. His heart contracted. She gave him a sheepish look of apology and wiped her reddened eyes with a tissue. He knew how much family meant to her. He had none to look forward to when he went home. An ache rose in his chest as he limped over to her bed.
“Doing all right?” he asked huskily, picking up her damp hand. Morgan sniffed.
“It was good to talk to my mom and dad,” she said, squeezing Jake’s hand. “I told them about us, how we were mending our fences. They were happy to hear that.”
Jake leaned over and, with his thumbs, brushed the tears from her cheeks. Morgan’s green eyes were marred with sadness. “Why are you crying?”
Shrugging, she muttered, “I miss them….” Barely able to hold the words back, she wanted to say, I miss Emma so much. I want to hold her, kiss her, watch her smile, and I want to hear her laugh again. I want Emma to meet you so badly….
Swallowing, a lump in her throat, Morgan had confided her dilemma to her parents. She wanted to tell Jake about his daughter. Her father had counseled her to wait until she was further along in her healing process. She would have to pick the right time and place outside of the military hospital to take Jake aside and tell him the truth. Morgan had reluctantly agreed.
That meant waiting a minimum of six weeks to hold on to the terrible secret. Jake deserved better than that. Right now, Morgan was emotionally shattered and lacked the necessary strength to deal with his reactions. And she was sure he’d have many. She knew she would.
Seeing the concern grow in his gray eyes, she said, “My mother was shot in the left thigh during the Thailand conflict. Did you know that? And she suffered a compound fracture like me, only not half as bad as mine. Talk about genetic accountability.” She shrugged.
Jake sat on the edge of the bed on the right side so her left thigh would not be disturbed. “Your mother was a fighter when she was down and out. You are, too.”
“I don’t know, Jake.” Morgan looked at the ceiling. “Things are sinking in. I’m going to be bed-bound for six lousy weeks. Six! I’ll lose all my muscle tone. I’ll suffer from muscle atrophy….”
Jake reached out and cupped her chin. “Take a deep breath. You’ve been through a lot, multi hits to your Kevlar, getting shot in the leg and two surgeries. You haven’t had time to absorb and process any of it yet. It takes time.” Jake smiled tenderly, holding her tearful gaze. “I’m going to call General Stevenson tomorrow, before we board that C-5 back to the States. I think she can keep you pretty busy with paperwork on Operation Shadow Warriors. If she’ll let you assist her in different ways, it might help her out, and you won’t be bored out of your skull.”
Morgan felt twinges of pain beginning to roll up her leg, like an ocean tide coming in. Most hours she felt pain, but it was bearable. When it rolled in like this, she had to release a lot more morphine into her system. And when she did, it knocked her out. Morgan hated drugs, but the bone pain could become so crippling, she’d scream with agony if she didn’t press t
hat pain-med button to put the morphine into her IV.
“Pain coming back?” Jake guessed, seeing darkness come into her eyes.
“Yes,” she muttered. “I’m sorry, Jake—”
“Never be sorry,” he growled, holding Morgan’s cloudy gaze. “The more you’re in pain and you don’t take the morphine, the longer it will take for you to heal up.” He saw her wrinkle her nose and press the button three times. The morphine drip was combined with her other IV. In a little bit, she’d be unconscious. At least she wouldn’t feel that breath-stealing pain.
“You’re right,” she said, lying back against the pillows.
“Go to sleep, babe. Dream of us….”
Chapter Twenty-One
The next time Morgan awoke, she was in a private room at the Bethesda medical center near Washington, D.C. Sunlight was lancing through the window in the room. She slowly reoriented, feeling dull pain in her left leg. She immediately saw the blue covers in a tent over her legs.
The door quietly opened. Jake. He was clean-shaven, the beard gone. His gray eyes were alert, and he was wearing civilian clothes. Morgan thought he looked incredibly powerful and athletic in the black T-shirt, olive-green cargo pants and boots. Just the way Jake held himself, shoulders squared, she would have spotted him in a crowd of hundreds. SEALs walked with a natural confidence that was unmistakable and never duplicated.
“Hey,” he called, seeing she was awake. “Welcome to the world of the living.” Jake leaned down and kissed her lips, seeing the murkiness in her eyes. “You were out for the flight from Germany to the States. We arrived here at Bethesda medical center five hours ago. How are you feeling?”
Morgan felt thirsty. She struggled to sit up, and Jake brought the bed up. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to wake up. “I need some water, please,” she muttered.
Jake poured her water from a nearby pitcher on a rolling tray near her bed.
Morgan took the glass in both hands, not trusting her strength. “You look upbeat,” she noted, drinking.
Down Range (Mills & Boon M&B) (Shadow Warriors - Book 2) Page 20
