Morgan's Wife

by Lindsay McKenna

  Jim’s mind gyrated forward to the mission. Pepper could be killed. The thought was pulverizing to him, and he stared at her hard, noting the shadows that lovingly emphasized her features. Her lashes, he realized, were thick and long, while her eyebrows reminded him of gently arched bird wings. The combination gave such startling definition to her soulful eyes that Jim felt as if he could get lost in them forever. Something was always going on in Pepper’s eyes, in a way he’d never experienced with another woman. Her eyes broadcast her emotions so clearly that it aroused a powerful response in him.

  For a split second out of time, he knew that Laura could die, too. The overwhelming emotions that came with that flash of awareness rocked through him, a vivid reminder of his own equally fragile hold on life. This mission could kill all of them. Easily. He struggled internally to reject that knowledge, but his military mind and training coldly confirmed the possibility.

  His focus returned to Pepper, who appeared lost in thought. She might never find love again, he realized sadly. Her heart was still in John Freedman’s hands, even though he was dead. After this mission, provided they survived, Jim would never hear Pepper’s husky laughter again or see that wonderful bevy of emotions mirrored in her eyes. She was rare, he realized—a rare woman who had the courage to make of her life exactly what she wanted. If life told her no, she went in another compatible direction, reweaving the fabric of her goals and continuing to move toward her heart’s desire.

  Looking back at himself, Jim gave an internal, derisive laugh. He’d merely had to punch the military system’s ticket to get what he wanted. He’d never been told no, as Pepper had. All he’d had to do was play the game the way he was told, and the next rank would follow. Oddly, his successes didn’t fill him with the kind of satisfaction he was sure Pepper experienced over her many battles, wins and losses. She might have had doors slammed in her face, but she’d never let it defeat her.

  If there was anyone he’d choose for a mission this dangerous, he had to admit, it would be Pepper. She wasn’t a killer, but that wasn’t what was needed here. Her brains, flexibility and unique ability to turn a setback into a success would come in very handy. Jim knew he provided certain strengths to the mission, but Pepper’s input and observations would be easily as valuable as his own.

  But despite his discovered faith in her, he couldn’t stop worrying about the chance of Pepper dying. His heart lurched violently in his chest at the thought. Much as he would like to deny it, the possibility was real. A maelstrom of feelings rose sharply in him, encircling his heart. Pepper was murmuring soothingly to the cat, her head bent over him, her mouth curved in a soft smile. For a moment, Jim enjoyed watching her, then, unexpectedly, Laura’s face shimmered before him. Where had that come from?

  Rubbing his chest, he rose suddenly. He excused himself abruptly and went into the kitchen, wrestling with a gamut of unexpected emotions. Placing his hands on the sink, he looked out the window over the sparkling neighborhood lights of Georgetown. The porcelain sink was cool against his damp palms. His heart wouldn’t settle down. Maybe Pepper was right, after all, about his feelings for Laura. Did they go beyond mere loyalty and friendship? At the same time, his response to Pepper was new, something he’d never encountered—even with Laura. But maybe that was why he hadn’t fallen in love during all these years—because his heart was still in Laura’s hands. He frowned. The only way he could think to find out once and for all how he felt about Laura was to see her again. He knew it was wrong to love another man’s wife—and he was very aware of how deeply Laura loved Morgan. He’d seen for himself the reality of what existed between the couple. So where did that leave him and this confusion of emotions squeezing at his heart?

  Grimly, Jim studied his hands, still resting on the sink. Pepper’s insight had blown the lid off something he’d been carrying around for years but had never realized until now. He’d never really considered his feelings for Laura. At first, he’d been too busy chasing his career up out of the depths of the archives. Then, when he’d realized Laura was drawn to Morgan, he’d slammed the lid down on whatever emotions he’d had.

  With a shake of his head, he sighed. Morgan might already be dead. Laura could be a widow. Would he want to step in and try to start afresh with her? There were no easy answers. Yet his response to Pepper was wildly spontaneous and breathtaking, and Jim had never felt more uncertain in his life. What was real? What were mere idealistic dreams that would never be fulfilled?

  The discovery of his chaotic feelings was painful, yet strangely euphoric. Somehow, subconsciously, he thought, he’d been looking all his life for a woman who possessed Pepper’s unique combination of qualities. She was completely comfortable with who and what she was—and was not. No, she wasn’t a magazine-model beauty. And maybe she wasn’t beautiful in the same way Laura was, but that didn’t matter. He pictured his mother. She’d been a strong, quiet woman with a deep passion for life—much like Pepper. Above all, Jim realized, he wanted people in his life who had commitment—as he did. Pepper’s commitment to herself was mind-boggling in the sense of how much she’d accomplished in face of sometimes severe opposition. Fleetingly, he recalled that his mother, who’d had artistic leanings, had been refused schooling at a college where she’d wanted to take art courses, because her high school grades had been too low.

  Closing his eyes, Jim went back to that time. He’d been ten years old, far too young to understand his mother’s tears as she’d told his father that the college had turned her down. Jim recalled crying that evening in his bedroom, alone and unseen. He’d cried for his mother—for her dream being shattered by an unfeeling institution that looked at grades rather than the quality of her talent. From that day forward, he remembered, his mother had changed in subtle ways. She had never again tried to draw. She had put her box of paints away in the attic, never to retrieve them.

  Releasing a ragged sigh, Jim opened his eyes and stared blindly out at the city lights. He felt anger at the insensitivity of the college’s treatment of his mother. Pepper, too, had her passion for life, but she’d somehow managed to sidestep that awful trap of failure. He smiled at the thought. Pepper came from a younger generation of women, who had been told it was all right to fight back, to fight for their dreams.

  A sizzling sort of electricity moved through him. It was a feeling he’d never experienced with Laura, and he knew it had to do with Pepper. He liked her more than a little, despite the small amount of time they’d shared. Their bonding had occurred through a life-and-death situation, Jim realized, and that kind of connection was soul deep, transcending time and space. He’d learned that in Desert Storm, Panama and Grenada, where he’d felt that same bonding with the marines he commanded.

  Pepper, despite his poor treatment of her up to that point, had saved his miserable life out there in the sky. She’d reached beyond the hurt he’d delivered, wrapped her strong hands around his arms and held him. She hadn’t let his pettiness stand in the way of risking her life to save his. Yet even as he savored his feelings for Pepper, Jim’s heart cried out for Laura, for what might have been and could be in an uncertain future.

  “Damn…” he rasped, straightening. He glanced toward the living room. Turbulent emotions soared through him as he digested what Pepper quickly was coming to mean to him. And at 0300 tomorrow morning, she could die. She could miss the island and, with sixty pounds of gear on her back, drown in the ocean. She could hit a tree and be fatally gored. A bullet could find her, or one of those dogs could tear her apart. Worst of all, she could fall into Garcia’s hands as his prisoner. And Jim knew what the drug lord did to women. Sickened, he turned, his stomach rolling with nausea. It was heinous enough that Garcia had Laura; it was unthinkable that Pepper could fall prey to the sick bastard, too.

  “Jim?”

  Pepper’s voice was soft. Questioning.

  He turned abruptly on his heel. “I haven’t been a very good host,” he said, more gruffly than he intended because she’d surpris
ed him.

  Reeling from the sudden hardness in Jim’s tone, Pepper stepped back from the kitchen entrance. The old Jim Woodward—the hard, unfeeling marine she’d first met—was back. Part of her was relieved. With Jim in this mode, it was easy to respond to him on a strictly professional basis. Anything beyond that was too dangerous for her to contemplate, anyway, she reminded herself. Gathering her thoughts, she said, “I’m tired. I’m going to try to get some sleep before we meet over at Andrews at 0130.”

  Cursing himself, Jim started toward Pepper. He saw the quizzical look in her eyes—and the pain. He’d hurt her again. Scrambling for a way to apologize, but not knowing how to go about it, he followed her to the door. He retrieved her coat from the closet and helped her on with it.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Pepper said woodenly, suddenly drained by all the events of this very long day. She was an emotional wreck. As she slung her purse over her shoulder, she saw anguish in Jim’s eyes and had no idea what was going on inside of him. Had it been something she’d said? But what? She had no idea.

  “I’ll see you later,” Jim rasped, opening the door for her. It was the last thing he wanted to do—let Pepper out of his sight. He was consumed by gnawing hunger to ask her a hundred different questions about herself, about her growing-up years and her family.

  Stung by Jim’s inexplicable withdrawal, Pepper stepped out onto the sidewalk leading to the curb, where her rental car was parked. The November air was icy cold—but nothing like the chill that enveloped her insides. As she pulled on her gloves and walked quickly to the car, her chest began to ache. Dammit, she liked Jim! At least her silly heart did, she chided herself, as she slid onto the cold vinyl seat and shut the door. The street was well lighted and lined with trees, their bare branches lifting skyward into the darkness. Wind stirred the dried leaves along the curb and sidewalk.

  Pepper started the car and drove slowly down the street. Why had Jim left her alone in the living room so long? She grimaced. Even if it had been something she’d said or done, he hadn’t needed to disappear like that. He was a mature adult. He at least could have stayed and made small talk. The Marine Corps drilled officers on small talk for social occasions, Pepper knew, but Jim hadn’t been willing to do even that much. Frowning, she made a turn that would take her to her nearby hotel.

  Why had he turned so gruff? He’d been accessible, then ten minutes later, he’d been closed off. Perhaps, she ruminated, he had got in touch with the fact that he still loved Laura Trayhern. Bothered, Pepper wondered how or if that knowledge would affect his performance on the mission. It had to affect him. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, he was human, and dammit, he had feelings.

  Angered, Pepper drove to the hotel and went directly to her room. After a long, hot shower, she slipped into her cozy flannel nightgown, which fell to her ankles. Going to bed was the easy part. Going to sleep was another story. Her mind swung from the manuals to the HAHO, to Jim and John. Every time her heart touched on Jim, she became a mass of vibrant feelings. Frustrated, Pepper got up and started to read another manual to distract herself from the thought of Jim Woodward, but even that didn’t work. Finally, she started pacing her hotel room.

  Jim still loved Laura; Pepper was sure of it. Desperately, despite her roiling response to the idea, she wanted it to be true. She couldn’t dare risk true love again, so it was just as well that Jim was otherwise involved. As the clock ticked toward one a.m., she tiredly rubbed her smarting eyes. She should have tried to sleep, not think. Her mind was spinning with data to remember—radio codes, satcom codes, what to do if they got separated. What to do if she was captured. That last thought scared the hell out of her. Pepper didn’t want to die. At the last moment, she wrote a letter to her parents—just in case. Then she wrote a letter to Jim, too. She tucked both of them away in her purse, which she would be leaving behind at Perseus, along with the rest of her luggage. If she died, her personal effects would be gone through and the letters delivered.

  The seriousness of the mission impinged upon her more than ever as she slowly pulled off her nightgown and began to dress in striped utilities that the Marine Corps had provided. She could die tonight—in a variety of ways. Even so, Pepper found herself repulsed at having to carry weapons. She didn’t want to kill anyone. It simply wasn’t in her. And she might have to. She pulled on thick, dark green socks as she explored her feelings. Even as a child, she hadn’t wanted to shoot deer or catch trout with sharp hooks. Some of her passion for smoke jumping came from her role in stopping the destructive fires that inevitably killed the wildlife in their paths.

  Pepper knew she’d be hard-pressed to squeeze a trigger to kill someone. She didn’t doubt Jim would do it—probably because his survival instincts were more sharply honed. But despite her hitch in the army and getting through Ranger school, she was less than sure about her ability to take a life—even in her own defense. Pepper shook her head. Why was she taking this mission? Wolf had told her about Laura and Morgan. She liked Wolf and knew he was a man of honor. If he wanted her help, she didn’t question it. Wolf was like part of her extended family, and if he needed her, she’d be there.

  Pepper decided that her morals and values were terribly confused. On one hand, she’d dive into life-threatening danger at the blink of an eye, yet she was loath to pull a trigger to kill another person—even one intent on killing her. Go figure. Well, it was too late to change her mind, although these weren’t really second thoughts. Her heart centered on Jim, and Pepper knew unequivocally that she was a balance to him and the skills he brought to the mission. He wasn’t a killer, either, but he would kill in self-defense—although she believed that if he had to, he’d regret it.

  As she pulled her thick, shoulder-length hair up and back into a ponytail, Pepper looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. What a contrast, she thought. Her big, blue eyes didn’t seem suited to the military uniform she wore. She looked vulnerable, not tough and soldierly. Maybe that was what Jim was concerned about.

  Sighing, she realized that she had no answers to the various dilemmas she faced. A part of her liked Jim and was glad to be there for him on this mission. Another part was willing to do what was necessary to rescue Laura Trayhern. And part of her didn’t want to go at all—because of Jim, who stirred the coals of life brightly within her. Somehow the danger he presented to her very soul seemed to outweigh the many external threats.

  By the time Pepper arrived at Andrews Air Force Base, she was a mass of nerves. Wolf drove her there, his face set and hard. He said little on the way, and as Pepper stepped out of the vehicle and toward a small office inside a hangar, the tension was electric. There, squinting in the bright lights, an Air Force team met her and began helping her into her parachuting gear. Pepper felt as if she were in a surreal movie. Where was Jim? Four people worked with her, saying little, the strain obvious in all of their faces. In half an hour, she and Jim would board the C-130 that would take them across the Gulf of Mexico to the Caribbean for the drop.

  Wolf remained nearby, and Pepper felt reassured by his presence. The pack she would carry on her back was loaded with ammunition and weapons. Pepper made sure that her knife was situated, as always, on the front of her harness, with easy access, though she hoped this time she wouldn’t be cutting away shroud lines.

  The door opened. Jim, already in his tiger utilities, appeared in the doorway. His face was grim, his eyes hard. Pepper swallowed convulsively, suddenly wondering if she really ought to go on this mission. She could die. Jim could die. The thoughts shook her, and as she held Jim’s glittering gaze, Pepper felt his raw, boiling emotions. Though he hadn’t said or done anything, she experienced his feelings as if they were her own. What was going on? Had she suddenly become psychic?

  Pepper acknowledged that during critical fire situations, her intuitive abilities were nearly clairvoyant, probably because of the adrenaline, which automatically heightened everyone’s senses. She watched Jim skirt her to talk in low tones to Wolf, who stood
, arms crossed, listening intently.

  Jim was ignoring her—again. She felt hurt as well as relief wind through her as she turned toward the two men. Her talk with Jim earlier tonight—their unexpected intimacy—had been wrong, she realized, as she followed the jump master out to a waiting vehicle that would take them to the C-130 warming up on the runway.

  “Pepper?” Wolf reached out, his hand wrapping around her arm to halt her forward progress.

  They stood on the tarmac, the light from the hangar casting eerie shadows across the huge base. Pepper looked up into Wolf’s face and saw the worry in his eyes. “I’ll be fine, Wolf. Stop worrying.” She gripped his hand.

  “Just be careful,” he growled. “Sarah won’t forgive me if you don’t come back.”

  She nodded somberly. “I know.” Sarah was her best friend, and Pepper knew how much Wolf loved her. “I’ll be back.”

  He reluctantly released her hand. “I’ll be praying.”

  Pepper smiled weakly and waved goodbye to him and to the uniformed men and women standing around him. She found herself walking next to Jim, who seemed to appear out of the darkness. His profile was sharp. His eyes revealed nothing. Most of all, she saw the forbidding set of his mouth—a single line. Swallowing against a dry throat, Pepper climbed into the vehicle. The doors slammed and they lurched forward, gears grinding.

  Darkness closed in around them, except for the dull glow of the dashboard lights. Pepper sat in the back seat, alone. She felt horribly deserted. If only Jim hadn’t retreated so far inside himself. She knew that certain members of her team reacted like that before a jump. Still, she wished for some friendly sign from him, some humanity.