Desert Doctor, Secret Sheikh

by Meredith Webber

  ‘I left it there, but I can tell you what was on it if you want to write it in your language.’

  She dug into her bag and brought out a pen and small pad, handing them to Kam then telling him what to write, taking her time as he was translating as he went.

  ‘They must watch for signs of fever—I’ve left antibiotics for her to take and the chief understands she has to take them regularly until the course is finished, but if she starts to run a temperature, they should give her aspirin as well, and bathe her to keep her cool. When I come back I’ll bring more antibiotics, stronger ones, just in case.’

  He finished the care instructions then kept writing, the curvy script filling another page. Once done, he set it down on the ground and put a rock on it, with Jen’s medical bag beside it, then indicated a pile of mats that would serve as their beds.

  ‘Piled together they’ll be softer, but I can split them so we have separate beds,’ he suggested, watching Jen’s face in the dim light, wondering if she’d dare to lie close to him.

  And why was he suggesting it?

  He wasn’t sure, except he had this urgent need to keep her safe, and if she was wrapped in his arms, that would go some way towards achieving his aim.

  Not that he intended sleeping for very long. He was going to get them out of here tonight—all three of them.

  ‘I guess the pile of mats would be more comfortable,’ Jen said, but so tentatively he wondered if he should forget the holding-her-in-his-arms idea. He could keep her safe if she slept against the wall of the cave and he slept between her and the door. Although, even in this tense and potentially deadly situation, his arms ached to hold her for other reasons.

  ‘You’re not happy about it?’ he asked, and watched her face.

  A tentative smile hovered around her lips and he was sure she was blushing beneath the golden freckles, although the dim light made it impossible to tell.

  ‘With what we feel—the attraction—is it a good idea…?’

  The hesitant phrases dropped so confusedly from her lips it was all he could do not to take her in his arms right then and there, to comfort and protect her. But he didn’t want to make the situation more difficult than it already was, and his mind needed to be focussed on escape, not attraction.

  ‘I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?’ she said, turning so he could see her face in the lamplight. ‘But it’s been five years since David died. Five years since I’ve felt something even close to attraction to another man.’ The halting confession faltered, then she lifted her chin and continued. ‘It’s not that I thought I’d never love again, although I did think that for a long time, but it’s as if what we had was so special it couldn’t be replicated. Now here I am, stuck in the desert with a very sexy man, feeling all kinds of things I’ve never felt before, and I’m confused.’

  ‘Why?’

  She smiled a real smile this time.

  ‘I suppose because I think you’re sexy, for a start. Because I noticed, and because I felt something I didn’t expect to feel, and yet it’s for a man who has no interest in a relationship, so it’s something that has no future, and I honestly don’t know that I can handle that kind of thing. With my husband, we met and fell in love and got married. I’ve had no practice at any other kind of relationship, but I do know when he died it nearly killed me, so I don’t want to love like that again—to love and lose someone. Yet if I give in to this attraction and it leads to love, that’s exactly what will happen.’

  Kam stared at her.

  ‘Is this the woman who travels all over the world, often to very unpleasant places, and exults in the challenge, the adventure, the fun? Can’t you see that sexual relationships are all of those things? That they can be part of your life, and make it fuller and more exciting?’

  Jen studied him for a moment.

  ‘No, I can’t see that. Oh, I know it works for some people. My best friend can handle love affairs but that’s because she doesn’t want any more than the fun and adventure and challenge as far as her liaisons are concerned. She’s married to her career and she looks on a little fling with someone as relaxation. But me? I just know I’d make a mess of it, Kam.’

  He reached out and drew her into his arms and held her close against his body.

  ‘No kisses, then, I promise,’ he said softly. ‘But lie with me. That way I’ll know you’re safe.’

  He led her to the pile of rugs and pushed her shoulders gently so she sat, then he knelt and took off her sandals, his hands warm against her skin, the little act of kindness so unexpectedly intimate Jen felt the desire she was fighting ripple through her once again.

  But as she lay down on the pile of mats and Kam settled beside her, she glanced towards the sleeping child, and she wondered if they should draw him in, put him between them, not to keep herself safe from her own emotions but to keep him safe.

  ‘Hamid?’ she whispered to Kam.

  ‘I will watch him—he’ll be safe.’

  ‘But you need to sleep yourself,’ Jen protested, and she felt his arm wrap around her shoulder and draw her closer.

  ‘When both of you are sleeping, I will doze,’ he said. ‘Now, go to sleep, Jenny Stapleton, before I forget I am here to protect you not make love to you.’

  How could she sleep when his arm lay heavy on her shoulders and her body felt his warmth and wanted more of it?

  How could she sleep when remembered delights of love-making were flickering not only in her body but in her mind?

  How could she sleep—?

  She’d think of Hamid, the child they’d saved, or would save. Kam had said so. She’d think about how they were both risking their lives to save a child for a man they hardly knew. She’d think of Kam…

  Kam…

  She snuggled closer…

  ‘Jen, I want you to wake up but quietly.’

  Kam held her, speaking into her ear, his hand ready to close over her mouth if she made a startled noise. He already had the child awake, sitting close beside the pile of mats, his big eyes even wider now Kam had explained what they were doing.

  ‘Jen, can you hear me? I know you’re tired, but I need you to wake up.’

  She stirred and turned her head, and even in the dim light of the cave the golden hair made a glorious tangle all around it. She’d have to hide it in her scarf because the moonlight would give it a glow that could be seen for miles.

  ‘Come on, we’re leaving,’ he whispered, helping her to sit up. ‘Tie your hair up as best you can and put your scarf around it. I’ll carry your sandals, we’ll go barefoot at first. And we’ll leave your bag. I’ve written in the note that we’ll come back tomorrow, but if we leave the bag they’ll know we mean it. I’ve also given them my radio call-sign so they can contact us if there is a problem sooner than evening.’

  She seemed to understand for her hands were fighting with her hair, trying to get hanks of it, uncombed, to braid. Then she lifted her shawl and wound it around her head and across the lower part of her face, a clever woman working out that her pale skin might also gleam in the moonlight.

  A clever woman, but was he leading her to her death?

  Kam didn’t know, but he knew he had to try to get her out of here. If he left her and by some ill-chance the young mother died then they would kill Jen as well, or hold her for ransom, trading her for guns to keep the killing going. That she, who only sought to do good, and who had already suffered so much, should be put in such a position…

  They had to leave.

  He walked to the door of the cave, checked the man who had been left to guard them was sleeping then, taking Hamid on his back, he motioned Jen to fall in behind him and led the way, guided only by his childhood memories, praying they were right and that he wasn’t leading two innocent people into disaster.

  They slipped like shadows through the sleeping village, tension coiling tighter with every slip on a stone or brush against a branch, noises almost silent but sounding loud in the still night air. He waited for an
alarm, a cry from a sentry posted somewhere in the village, although he judged the chief was confident in this, his stronghold.

  ‘Do you really know the way?’ Jenny asked when they were far enough above the village for her whisper not to carry.

  ‘Of course I do.’ Such a confident lie, but what was the sense in both of them worrying? ‘We’re on a path—can’t you see that?’

  ‘On a path made by sheep and goats and herders going up to the higher slopes, I would say from the look of it.’

  He turned back to look at her and saw that she was smiling. His heart tugged at its moorings in his chest. How could she smile, this woman in a foreign land, being led through the mountains by someone who might not know the way, a child they had to cherish between the two of them?

  And how could he not admire her, even, given the tug, feel more than admiration?

  Feel love?

  ‘It branches off,’ he said, because to tell her what he was thinking and feeling would make the thoughts and feelings real, and neither of them wanted that.

  When love between them was impossible…

  They walked swiftly but quietly, climbing ever higher, the little boy walking now, stoically silent although the climb through the thinning air must be taking a toll on his slight body.

  ‘Ten miles you said?’ Jen asked the question when they stopped to rest beside a spring and Kam cupped water in his hand and made them both drink. ‘I don’t know how long it takes to walk ten miles on flat ground, let alone climbing through mountains in the moonlight.’

  Kam smiled at her.

  ‘I doubt it takes longer in the moonlight. In fact, it might make the journey faster for we can see where we are going and the night is cool. Come on, if we rest too long you’ll stiffen up.’

  ‘Or someone following us might catch up,’ Jen suggested.

  ‘There’s no one following, not yet,’ Kam said, knowing he’d have heard any pursuit because he’d been listening intently for it.

  They climbed higher and higher until it seemed they were right at the top of the world—seemed they could touch the stars that massed like sparkling crystals in the velvet dark sky above them—yet still another ridge would rise in front of them.

  The track wound and twisted, in and out of moonlight and shadows, sometimes wide enough for them to walk abreast, sometimes in single file. It was so quiet and still it was easy to think they were the only people alive in the entire world.

  Until suddenly, as they entered a patch of shadow, a figure rose up from the ground, tall, dark-robed, head swathed in a turban—threatening just to look at.

  Jen gave a cry, quickly stifling it with her hand, but she knew it hadn’t been quick enough. She pressed her hand to her chest where her heart thudded so hard she thought it might burst out, then Kam was speaking and the shadowy figure answered, before stepping forward and squatting down to take Hamid on his back.

  ‘You can’t let him take Hamid,’ Jen protested, racing towards the man to snatch the child from him. ‘Not now when we’ve got this far.’

  Kam stopped her, his hand settling on her shoulder and bringing her momentum to a halt.

  ‘It’s our guide,’ Kam said. ‘He says he knew we’d try to leave and has come to help us, to show us the way and carry the child. He doesn’t like it that his chief would not honour the word he gave so he will honour it himself.’

  ‘And you believe him? If Akbar was whipped for crossing the border, imagine what the chief would do to this man for betrayal. Why should he lead us where he says? Why wouldn’t he make us circle around so we’ll be right back in the village once again?’

  ‘He gave his word. I trust him,’ Kam said, then added with a tinge of sarcasm, ‘Although there’s not a lot of trust around.’

  Was he referring to her suspicions of him—her questions as to whether he was a spy?

  Jen didn’t know, any more than she knew the truth about Kam’s presence in the camp or their guide’s offer to lead them home. She sighed at all the things she didn’t know and followed, trudging along in the footsteps of the guide, Kam right behind her, barely puffing, the ease with which he climbed making her even angrier.

  The path levelled out and they walked between high rock walls and along a narrow track with a steep drop to one side of it, then, barely noticeable at first, they began to drop lower, going downhill now, down and down until they rounded a corner and there, still a hundred or more feet below them, lay the refugee camp.

  Their guide set Hamid back on his feet, spoke to Kam, then disappeared back in the direction from which they’d come.

  ‘He must return to his home before dawn or the chief will be suspicious,’ Kam explained to Jen, as he took over as leader on the downhill path. ‘He’ll meet us where the vehicle was parked at six this evening, so that way we can get back before it gets too late.’

  If we get back, Jen thought, but she didn’t want to go there, so she questioned instead how the man could return to the village so swiftly.

  ‘Before dawn?’ she echoed, nodding towards the east where the sky was already lightening.

  ‘He will run, now we’re not with him,’ Kam explained, then he knelt and took Hamid on his back and they continued towards their temporary home.

  ‘Four hours,’ Kam announced when they finally reached the clinic tent and stopped outside while Hamid crept in to be reunited with his parents, the wailing and cries of delight telling them all was well. ‘Not bad for a ten-mile hike over the mountains.’

  ‘Tell my feet that,’ Jen said, lifting one sandalled foot to inspect it for wear and tear.

  ‘Come, there’ll be hot water in the food tent—we’ll get something to eat and drink.’

  ‘A hot drink? Food? That sounds like bliss. Come on, feet, it’s only a little further.’

  She turned towards the tent but Kam was quicker, lifting her into his arms and striding with her towards the tent, already lit to welcome the early risers in the camp.

  Despite her weight, he held her easily, carrying her as though she were a child like Hamid. And with his strong arms holding her and her body pressed against his rock-hard chest, a sense of security, so strong she tingled with it, washed through her body.

  At least, she hoped it was security…

  Once in the tent he sat her on a mat and spoke to the women who were preparing food and drinks. One came immediately, a basin in her hands, a towel over her arm, and knelt in front of Jenny.

  Kam thanked her and sent her on her way, removing Jenny’s sandals himself then lifting one pale, slim foot, washing it, drying it, massaging it gently, then examining it for cuts or blisters before setting it back on the ground, to take care of the other.

  ‘You’ll put some antiseptic on the cuts and blisters when you go back to your tent,’ he told her, still looking at her feet so it wasn’t until she made a little sound of pain or protest that he looked up into her face.

  She was staring at him as if she’d never seen him before, the look on her face so incredulous he wondered if he’d changed from a human into a djinn.

  ‘What?’ he asked, puzzled by her expression, but all she’d do was shake her head. Although he thought a smile was on its way, quivering at the corners of her lips, it did no more than tantalise him by not fully revealing itself.

  He turned his attention from lips to feet.

  ‘Do you have some soft slippers you can wear today?’

  He looked up at her again, but all suggestion of a smile had disappeared and she was now frowning at him.

  Before he could question her again—this time about the frown—the woman returned, bringing a tray with hot sweet tea and small pancakes, freshly made, their spicy scent making his mouth water.

  ‘I didn’t realise how hungry I was,’ Jenny said, taking one of them, folding it in quarters, then eating it with obvious enjoyment. She took a sip of tea, and sighed.

  ‘This is good,’ she said, then looked at Kam. ‘All good—the foot care, the food, the tea, not to men
tion your rescue efforts bringing us home over the mountains. Did I thank you?’

  None of which explained the frown.

  ‘I don’t want your thanks,’ he said, wondering how to ask about the frown, but no words came so he ate a pancake and drank some tea, then, because she hadn’t answered about soft slippers, he asked one of the serving women if there was anyone in the camp who could sew the slippers the women wore inside their homes during the winter. He had a thick shirt they could use for fabric…

  He washed my feet!

  Jen wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry because the gesture, as much as his gentle touch, had totally destroyed any barriers she had tried to build between this man and her heart. With that one simple act of kindness she had awoken once again to love.

  This man could well have saved her life tonight, leading her over the mountains, and she hadn’t fallen in love with him then.

  But as he’d washed her feet…

  He couldn’t know, of course, and neither could she reveal it. But how to hide a feeling that was bubbling like a spring of delight, and excitement, and happiness inside her?

  With practicality, of course…

  And distance…

  And pretence…

  ‘Well, we have Hamid back with his parents, and for that reason alone the walk was worth it,’ she said, taking another pancake from the stack, folding it carefully and this time dipping it in flavoured yoghurt before biting into it. ‘But might we have angered the chief to the extent that he will be more careful in his guarding of us tonight?’

  ‘You do not have to go back,’ Kam told her, his voice stern. ‘I can go. I can treat the woman.’

  Jen shook her head.

  ‘I gave my word. We expect them to keep their side of the bargain, so how could I not go? Besides, that young woman, she’s barely more than a girl, Kam, she might be upset or frightened, and a strange man around would make that worse. In fact, you don’t need to come at all now we know the chief has such good English. He can translate.’

  ‘Translate things about post-partum bleeding to another woman in his tribe? I don’t think so. And that is the type of thing you might have to discuss.’