Morgan's Wife

by Lindsay McKenna

  Jim fired again and again keeping the guard pinned down. The Doberman leapt out, snarling, its white fangs bared as it tried to bite at them through the fence. Jerking around, Jim saw Pepper slowly getting to her feet.

  “Grab Laura! We’ve got to make a run for it!”

  Pepper spun drunkenly toward them, the carpet of dead leaves turning slippery beneath her boots. She grabbed at Laura, who was already heading toward her. Their hands met, and Pepper shoved her ahead, using her own body as a protective shield for the woman. Her breath came in gulps as they scrambled into the dense, surrounding brush. Jim!

  Pepper turned momentarily. The firing had stopped. He was hurrying toward them. Good, he wasn’t wounded! So many thoughts and feelings careened through Pepper as they climbed the slope of the hill. On the other side was the beach where Commander Gallagher would be picking them up. What time was it? Pepper didn’t take even a second to look.

  In moments, Jim joined them, gasping loudly from the exertion. He grabbed Laura’s other arm, and together they propelled her quickly up the hill. Jim’s muscles burned from the exertion. Worriedly, he watched Laura. They were moving too fast for her. Her legs were like rubber. She kept falling, and they could do little more than drag her upright between them. At the crest of the hill he slid his left arm around Laura’s waist, and told Pepper to do the same with her right. Together, they could hold Laura firmly enough to prevent her from falling down the slope.

  The wind continued gusting, but the rain had stopped. Jim looked back. He thought he heard voices, shouting. He knew the guard had radio communications and was sure the entire fortress was now awake. It wouldn’t be long before they were found. They had to hurry! Through the darkness of the trees, he could see the white sand beach. But where was the helicopter?

  His mind reeling, Jim realized that if that Coast Guard helicopter didn’t arrive exactly on time, they could all be dead. It wouldn’t take Garcia long to discover where they were. He heard Laura gasping for breath. Glancing left, he looked at her. She was semiconscious again. Damn! Pepper’s face was glistening, her mouth set, her eyes narrowed on their objective. Pride exploded through him for Pepper. What a courageous woman she was. In that moment, he felt such deep, startling emotion that it brought tears to his eyes.

  Pepper kept her head, staying cool and calm under some terrible circumstances. Jim expected such a response from himself and from other men under his command, but he realized belatedly that there were women with those necessary ingredients, too. With a shake of his head, he realized how much Pepper was broadening him, awakening him to the huge potential women possessed. Laura’s courage was no less impressive, though it came in a different form. She was drugged, maybe beaten, yet she wasn’t crying out or hysterical. No, in her own way, she, too, had that bone-deep courage. He felt proud of both of them.

  “Look!” Pepper cried, realizing too late that she’d broken the communications silence. Out at sea, she saw the red and green, blinking lights of an aircraft rapidly approaching.

  Grinning, Jim nodded. He gave Laura a reassuring squeeze. The slope leveled out, and they hit the white beach at a jog. The sand was thick, sucking, and it slowed them down. But the knowledge that the Dolphin helicopter bearing the white-and-orange colors of the Coast Guard was landing made him dig in and work harder. Pepper did the same.

  The wash from the blades kicked up sand everywhere. Bowing his head against its fury, Jim dragged Laura forward. Never had an aircraft looked so good. The door slid open, and a crew member reached toward them. Jim saw the helmeted heads of the two pilots in front. Turning, he released Laura into the capable hands of Dr. Ann Parsons, dressed in a bright orange Coast Guard flight uniform. He glanced back toward the hill. Still no sign of Garcia or his men.

  Turning, Jim focused on Pepper, who had helped Laura into the helicopter.

  “Get in,” he ordered.

  She nodded, climbing in swiftly.

  Jim was the last to board. As soon as the door was shut and locked, the chopper lifted off smoothly, heading skyward, away from NevisIsland. The cabin lights flashed on and Jim blinked in the sudden brightness.

  To his alarm, he saw Dr. Parsons, a helmet on her head, talking rapidly to the pilots. He looked down. Laura was unconscious. Pepper’s eyes were wide with fear. Jim frowned. What was going on? He wasn’t hooked on the cabin intercom with the pilots and the doctor. His confusion turned to terror as he saw Parsons lift Laura’s neck and tip her head back so that she could breathe properly.

  “Something’s wrong!” Pepper cried.

  Jim managed to turn around in the small area. He threw off his own headset and grabbed a pair of headphones patched into the cabin intercom. He moved around until he was on the other side of Laura, opposite the physician.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  Parsons gave him a swift look as she placed her hands on Laura’s chest. “She stopped breathing. Do you know CPR?”

  Shocked, Jim stared. Laura’s face was waxen, her lips parted, her skin so translucent he could see the small veins showing in her eyelids. “I—yes…” Oh, God, no! His mind spun as he took a position near her head, ready to breathe life-giving air into her body.

  “She’s been drugged!” he told the doctor, as she started to press hard and fast on Laura’s chest.

  “Probably cocaine,” Parsons snapped. She turned to the pilots. “Tell them to stand by. I’ve got a woman with a drug overdose coming in. She’s stopped breathing.”

  “Roger, Doctor,” Command Gallagher replied calmly. “We’ll alert the Falcon.”

  Jim bent over, breathing into Laura’s slack lips. Of all people, she couldn’t die. She just couldn’t! Tears leaked into his eyes, ran down his cheeks as he coordinated the CPR with Dr. Parsons. He’d never expected this. Laura couldn’t die!

  Pepper remained out of the way, an unwilling witness. The vibration of the helicopter warred with her feelings. Jim was crying. In that moment, with Laura’s life hanging by a precarious thread, Pepper was stunned by the depth of his emotions. The way he cradled Laura’s head, the gentleness of his touch, the wildness in his eyes all confirmed his love for her.

  Exhausted and anxious, Pepper could do nothing. She felt ridiculously helpless, but CPR didn’t require a third person. Below, the dark ocean kept disappearing behind wispy, lowlying clouds. In the distance, she briefly spotted the lights of a huge Coast Guard cruiser. She prayed for Laura’s life. The woman didn’t deserve what had happened to her. She looked so fragile, so broken lying on the helicopter’s cold, metal deck, her life in the hands of a man who loved her unequivocally, and a doctor whose expression told Pepper she wasn’t about to lose her patient.

  Chapter Nine

  When they’d landed safely on the Falcon, Pepper stayed out of the way. She crowded tightly against the bulkhead, allowing a medical team to take Laura off the helicopter. Dawn was barely breaking, a silvery ribbon along the horizon for as far as she could see. Lights flooded the aircraft, making Pepper squint as she crawled out after the others. One of the pilots slid open the small window.

  “Hold on, I’ll take you down below. They’ve got officers’ quarters waiting for you.”

  Pepper nodded. The pilot was a woman, and Pepper smiled to herself. It was good to have women in all phases of military life. She watched her disembark after shutting down the aircraft, then followed her across the deck.

  Pepper felt incredibly tired and drained. All she wanted was a hot shower and sleep. Her heart was on Laura, though. Would they get her breathing again? Would she live?

  “I’m Pepper Sinclair,” she said, extending her hand to the woman pilot.

  “Storm Gallagher. You look like hell.”

  “I’ve been through it.”

  Gallagher laughed huskily. “Yeah, I know. We monitored your transmissions on the way in. I’ll bet Garcia’s fit to be tied right now. Serve the bastard right. If that Dolphin I flew came with bombs, I’d dearly love to drop them on him. Come on, we�
�ll go into this hatch.”

  Pepper followed blindly, barely noticing the activity around her. The roll and pitch of the Falcon tipped her off-balance more than once. Waves from the passing storm were three to four feet in height and the sky above them continued to threaten. No sooner had they ducked inside the hatch than the rain began again.

  “Where are they taking Laura Trayhern?” she asked as they made their way down a narrow passageway.

  “Sick bay. We’ve got a Coast Guard physician on board in addition to Dr. Parsons. Good thing that woman is an emergency-room specialist. Why do you think Laura stopped breathing?”

  Pepper halted when the pilot did in front of a dark brown, mahogany door. “I think she’d been shot up with a drug. Probably cocaine, since that’s what Garcia traffics.” With a shake of her head, she added, “If she was, I don’t know how she managed to get dressed and make it as far as she did before she fainted on us.”

  Storm nodded gravely. “Adrenaline does wonders.”

  “You’re right.” Pepper smiled tiredly at the woman and held out her hand. “Thanks.”

  Gallagher grinned and shook it firmly. “Any time. I’ll let Colonel Woodward know we’ve taken care of you. I sure hope Mrs. Trayhern makes it. Helluva break. If you get hungry, the chow hall is on Deck Three, just below us.”

  Pepper nodded, watching Storm move briskly down the narrow passageway. Opening the door to her quarters, Pepper prayed they could get Laura to breathe on her own. An awful feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to leave. Quietly, she closed the door behind her and looked around. The quarters were small, spare but clean. A set of lockers lined the bulkhead, and another door led to the head, where she was sure a shower was located.

  With tired movements, Pepper climbed out of her muddy, rain-soaked gear, leaving it in a heap by the door. Every muscle in her body cried out for sleep. Moving slowly, she found the shower stall and turned on the faucets. In no time, steam rolled through the small area and she gratefully stepped in. The water pummeled her, heating her chilled, shaking body, rinsing off the last of the greasepaint from her face.

  Pepper recalled how wonderful a shower always felt after she’d been out for days at at time fighting a forest fire. There was nothing like it. This time, instead of cool water, however, she wanted it as hot as she could stand it. The washcloth lathered with soap scrubbed away at the sweat, the mud and the dirt. Her hair became squeaky clean, hanging limply around her face. Finally, she shut off the faucets. The towel was large and thick. Pepper realized her movements were becoming jerky from letdown. The feeling was familiar—she’d experienced it many times after coming out of a raging forest fire where her life had been in jeopardy.

  She dragged herself from the bathroom to the small bunk that served as a bed and pulled back the sheet and light blue spread. The rolling of the ship was lulling her now. With a groan, she towel-dried her hair, lacking the strength even to comb out the tangled strands.

  Lying down on her side, Pepper pulled the covers tightly across her shoulders. She could no longer hear the rain, only some distant sounds of the large engines that powered the ship. Her last thoughts as she drifted off to sleep were of Jim and the stark terror carved into his features as he bent over Laura on the deck of the helicopter. His eyes had telegraphed a burning anguish—something she’d never seen in them before. Only true love could wrench such emotion from such a controlled man, Pepper suspected. As sleep closed in on her, she said a prayer for Laura’s life.

  Jim struggled with bone-deep exhaustion coupled with a drowning array of emotions. He sat alone with Laura, his hand on hers. She was waxen and unmoving, but she was alive, thank God. Dr. Parsons had undoubtedly saved her life in the very room where he now sat. Laura’s hand felt cold, and he gathered up her limp fingers, hoping his body heat would somehow transfer itself to her.

  His mind was spongy, his feelings clamoring to be acknowledged. As he stared down at Laura’s serene features, Jim realized the depth of his caring for and loyalty to her once and for all. But she was a friend, not a lover. Rubbing his face harshly, he wearily took in a breath of air. Maybe he’d underestimated his long-ago feelings for Laura—and maybe he had still been carrying something of a torch when this mission had started. But looking at her now, Jim knew for certain that he didn’t love her in the romantic way he’d wondered about.

  New feelings crowded his heart now, and they were vibrant and stunning as he sat, pondering them in the silence. Before, Jim had attributed them to Laura, thinking they’d been triggered by her unexpected kidnapping. But now he knew differently. The feelings in his heart had been aroused by Pepper walking into his life.

  “You’ve done all you can,” Ann Parsons said wearily, touching his sagging shoulder.

  Jim stirred. He straightened a little in the chair and removed his hand from Laura’s. Parsons’ touch reminded him how exhausted he was. His gaze had never left Laura, who was finally breathing on her own again. The two doctors had battled nearly fifteen minutes to get her heart started.

  “I’d rather stay, Doctor.”

  Ann shook her head. “There’s nothing else to be done. We have her on an IV, Colonel. Her heart is working well. Dr. Thompson and I will watch her like hawks, believe me. You need to rest. You look like you’re about to fall down.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? “Will she stop breathing again?” he asked.

  “I hope not. But we have no way of knowing how much of whatever drug was shot into her. The ship has a small lab, and they’re testing her blood right now. I’ll know more shortly.”

  Anger surged through Jim, despite his exhaustion. “I don’t know how she managed to get up and dress herself.” He searched the doctor’s blue eyes.

  “I don’t, either. Sometimes when your life is in danger, you can override a drug reaction for a while. Laura did. She wanted to escape, to live.” Ann shook her head and rubbed her brow. “There are at least five needle tracks in her arms. Garcia must have had her on drugs from the time he captured her.”

  Jim clenched his fists. Laura still looked wan, but her skin was no longer gray. Even her hair looked washed out beneath the fluorescent lights of the sick bay. Dr. Thompson, a Coast Guard physician in his late thirties, tended Laura, ever watchful. Jim turned his attention back to Ann.

  “Thanks for saving her life, Doctor. I’m glad as hell you were out there to meet us.”

  She nodded. “You weren’t too shabby in the clutch, either, Colonel. Come on, I’ll show you to your quarters. They’re right next to the ones Pepper was assigned, on Deck Two.”

  Pepper. Jim halted. He scowled and followed the doctor out of sick bay and down a series of passageways that led to a stairway that would take them topside.

  “Does anyone know how she is?” he asked as they climbed the stairs. The ship was rolling fairly heavily now, and he had to grip both railings.

  “No. I think I’ll check on her,” Ann said as they made it to the second deck.

  Jim glanced out the hatchway window. The rain was coming down in torrents, and the once-azure Caribbean had turned steely gray, with small whitecaps. He drew abreast of the doctor, who was still dressed in the bright, red-orange flight suit.

  “Let me check on her, Doctor.”

  “No problem. If she needs any medical attention, though, call me?”

  “I will.” Jim saw her point to a door.

  “This is yours for the duration of the trip, Colonel. Pepper’s cabin is next door.”

  “Thanks.” He watched the doctor move off and saw Commander Noah Trayhern appear at the other end of the passageway. Since he was captain, he had to stay on the bridge, though Jim was sure he wanted to be down in sick bay watching over Laura. He saw the doctor stop and begin to talk with him.

  Still worried about Laura, Jim opened the door to his quarters. As he shed his clothes and took a scaldingly hot shower, he felt the last of the adrenaline ebbing away. He dried off and dropped the towel on the bunk. Someone had left him a one-piec
e, dark blue Coast Guard uniform, and he climbed into it. First he wanted to look in on Pepper, then he’d go get something to eat, check on Laura, then hit the sack.

  Stepping back out into the passageway, Jim felt the ship rolling and balanced himself by placing his hands along the bulkhead as he walked. Stopping at the door to Pepper’s cabin, he knocked loudly enough for her to hear, but got no answer. He waited. He knocked again. Nothing. Worried, he opened the door and stepped inside. His mouth stretched into a tender line as he saw Pepper in her bunk, sleeping deeply.

  His heart started a slow pounding as he shut the door and made his way over to her. Jim lowered himself to one knee, steadying himself with a hand on the edge of the bunk. How fragile she looked in sleep. Her face was pale, much paler than it should be, he thought. All the usual pink had been washed out of her freckled cheeks. And the darkness beneath her thick, lowered eyelashes was obvious. He lifted his other hand and lightly touched her tangled hair. How he wished he could be here when she woke up, to take a brush and smooth those strong, silken strands.

  A sudden memory of their heated kisses flowed through him, momentarily easing his various aches and pains. Barely touching Pepper’s hair, careful not to waken her, Jim smiled. She lay on her left side, her knees drawn up, the blanket and sheet tightly wrapped around her. The desire to slide into the bunk with her was almost overwhelming. Right now, he needed Pepper more than he ever could have imagined possible.

  Allowing his hand to fall back to his side, Jim slowly got to his feet, convinced Pepper was fine. All she needed was eight to twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, and she’d be in good shape. Before he left, he picked up her dirty gear and took it with him.

  Pepper awoke slowly. Where was she? The sounds were strange. The motion was, too, until she groggily remembered she was on the Coast Guard ship. As she slowly sat up, every muscle in her body screamed in protest. Shoving her hair back out of her eyes, she sat there, assimilating her surroundings. The gentle rocking motion was comforting. As she came fully awake, the memories—the danger—all flooded back.