Hangar 13

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Hangar 13 Page 14

by Lindsay McKenna


  Leaning down once more, Mac placed his lips against Ellie’s. Again he was struck by how cool she was. How many times had he wanted to kiss her? To feel the pliancy, the softness of her mouth beneath his? Mac took her lips gently, breathing his life, his love into her with that single, moving gesture.

  Ellie felt heat rushing through her, warm, living energy once again being given to her. She was in a dark abyss of nowhere, floating, out of her physical body. But then an incredible heat, a life-giving heat, began to flow through her; it was as if someone was literally breathing life back into her. She moved out of the darkness, into gray light, and then, very slowly, Ellie became aware of a strong, cherished mouth upon her lips. Somehow, she knew it was Mac.

  As it lifted, she felt bereft, but somewhat stronger. Her mind was spongy, though, and not working properly. Her senses were shorted out, but she was vaguely aware of a warm pair of hands holding her chilled fingers. They were Mac’s. They had to be. An incredible sense of love swept up through Ellie. How could she have doubted her feelings for him? Hadn’t he accepted her on every level?

  Ellie stopped struggling, because she knew she had to conserve what glimmer of life energy she had. With every passing minute, she became more and more aware of Mac, of his strong, warm touch. Other sounds began to infiltrate her awareness, other voices, and finally, the smells that told her she was in a hospital of some kind. But where? Ellie tried to recall what had happened, but couldn’t. It took too much effort.

  Mac’s heart began to pound when he saw Ellie’s lashes move. And then she opened her lips, as if to speak.

  “Dr. Johnson!” he called, his voice rolling through the dispensary. Ellie was regaining consciousness! Thrilled but apprehensive, he moved closer and placed his other hand on the crown of Ellie’s head.

  “It’s okay, Ellie. You’re safe, and everything’s all right.” It wasn’t, but the possibility sounded good to Mac. He saw her lashes move again, and he smiled a little. “That’s it, come back to me, Ellie. Come home, sweetheart. I’m here. I’ll take care of you….” He was speaking softly because he didn’t want the dispensary personnel to overhear him.

  For the next ten minutes, Ellie drifted in and out of consciousness. She heard Mac talking urgently to the doctor, and felt the steadying strength of his hand around hers. She felt other, professional hands on her, taking her blood pressure, examining her. Finally she was able to gather what little strength she had to open her eyes.

  Her vision was blurred at first, but she recognized Mac’s tall, strong body and the shape of his face. She blinked slowly, and her eyes gradually cleared. She felt Mac’s hand tighten around hers.

  “Ellie?”

  Tears pricked her lids. Mac’s voice was hoarse with feeling. “Y-yes.” It was such an effort to speak. She moved her chapped, dry lips, but no more sounds would come.

  Mac leaned down, his ear close to her lips. “What is it, Ellie? Please, talk to me. Talk.”

  “Home,” she finally got out with a monumental effort. “Take me home….”

  “Impossible,” Dr. Johnson said as she put the blood-pressure cuff aside. “Ms. O’Gentry’s blood pressure is still low.”

  “But not in the danger zone, as before?” Mac demanded, straightening.

  “No, it’s rising slowly.”

  Ellie tried to focus on Mac’s voice; she couldn’t keep her eyes open. He never stopped holding her hand, and that alone told her so much. Despite her lethargy, her bodily weakness, she felt his protective stance toward her and heard the agitation in his voice when he spoke.

  “I’m going to take her home, Doctor.”

  “That’s impossible! We haven’t gotten the results back from the lab yet, Major.”

  Mac glanced down at Ellie. Her face had taken on a bit more color. For the first time, he felt a weak response in her fingers. That settled it. He held the doctor’s challenging gaze.

  “I’m taking her home. You can contact me there. I’ll be staying with her until she recovers.”

  “Really, Major, I think you are jeopardizing the patient.”

  Mac shook his head. Something told him to get Ellie home, that she would recover more quickly in her own environment. “Sorry, Doc, but I’m taking her out of here. I’ll go sign the release forms and you can call me with the lab results.”

  Dr. Johnson scowled, then shrugged. “I’ll call you as soon as the lab reports come in, Major Stanford.”

  Mac was grateful that the doctor had given in gracefully. He glanced down at Ellie and saw that her eyes were open. To his alarm, he saw no life in them, only darkness. Giving her his full attention, he leaned over the gurney, his hand resting gently against her head.

  “Ellie? Can you hear me?”

  She nodded and slowly licked her dry lips. Mac’s touch alone was stabilizing in a new and wonderful way to her. “Mac, just get me home. All I need is rest—and sleep. Please?”

  He smiled uncertainly. “You got it, sweetheart.” He wanted to lean over and kiss her, but censored the idea. There was darkness in Ellie’s eyes, along with something else that scared him badly. “You’re getting out of here if I have to carry you.” And then his smile broadened a bit. “I carried you in. I guess I can carry you out.”

  Ellie closed her eyes, sagging in relief. She didn’t remember Mac carrying her anywhere. She didn’t want him to know how close to dying she had come. Right now, her vital functions were barely above survival level and Ellie knew it. She also knew that nothing in a hospital would help her. The damage she’d sustained in the attack had injured her aura, something hospitals and doctors wouldn’t acknowledge as part of her being.

  Later, she felt herself being lifted off the gurney. Mac’s voice was soothing and reassuring, and she remembered little except nestling her head against his shoulder as he carried her out of the antiseptic-smelling hospital into the warmth of morning sunlight. Ellie was too weak to even try to lift her lashes to see the world around her as he drove her home. All she focused on was Mac’s hand over hers as he rested it against his long, hard thigh. It was enough.

  Ellie moved slowly, feeling drugged from sleep. She was covered with several blankets, and she could smell the fresh scent of cotton encasing the pillow where her head rested. Blinking her eyes, she realized that she was in her own bedroom. The gray light of dusk filtered through the sheer, pale green curtains at the window. Her senses were sluggish. Someone stirred to her left, and she slowly rolled over onto her back. Mac was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner, studying her intently.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, quickly moving to her side. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and faced her. Ellie’s skin was now nearly a normal color, and her eyes had some life in them. Relief jagged through him. He reached out, grazing her cheek with his fingers. Her skin was now warm instead of cool.

  Mac’s touch was like a balm to her shattered soul. Ellie closed her eyes momentarily, absorbing his feather-light touch. “Better,” she croaked. And then she forced her eyes open. “I’m so thirsty Mac….”

  “I figured you would be. Hold on, I made some orange juice. It’s in the refrigerator.” He got to his feet and gave her a brief smile. “I’ll get you some.”

  Grateful beyond words, Ellie watched him exit the room quietly. She heard the stereo on in the living room, the music soft and soothing. Looking slowly around, Ellie forced herself up into a sitting position. How weak she was! She was trembling from that small amount of exertion. She took in a long, unsteady breath of air. Now, as never before, she realized how close she’d come to dying in that hangar last night.

  Mac reappeared, and she looked up, pinned beneath his warm, worried look as he sat back down on the bed. “Are you up to holding this glass?”

  “I—I don’t think so….” Her voice sounded gravelly from disuse. Ellie raised her hands, her fingers draping around Mac’s as he held the glass steady for her. She sipped the cool, sweet liquid until nearly half the contents were gone.

  “T
hank you.”

  Mac set the glass on the bedstand and watched Ellie closely. “Are you hungry?”

  She shook her head. “No. I feel like I got run over by a bulldozer.”

  It was a poor joke, but Mac smiled tentatively and took her hand. “This has been the longest day of my life, Ellie.”

  Meeting his gaze, she nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, Mac. I didn’t realize how powerful that entity was.” She squeezed his hand weakly. “I didn’t mean to put you in danger. I never thought it would attack you.”

  “What?”

  She licked her lips slowly, her mind barely functioning. Ellie realized that Mac had undressed her and put her in a fresh cotton nightgown. She was too exhausted to feel any embarrassment, grateful for his remaining with her throughout the day.

  “The entity attacked you first.” She gazed into his troubled eyes, which were ringed with fatigue. Had Mac slept at all? Ellie didn’t think so.

  “How?”

  “Didn’t you feel it? He hit you in the heart chakra—in the center of your chest—and tried to stop your heart from beating.”

  Mac’s brows fell. He continued to gently run his thumb across the top of Ellie’s hand. “Was that it? I was out of breath. I felt like someone had taken a sixteen-pound sledgehammer to my chest.”

  “Exactly.” Grimacing, Ellie felt some of her strength return. She didn’t know whether it was the orange juice or Mac’s presence. Probably both.

  “I didn’t know I was being attacked.” Mac shook his head and stared into her exhausted eyes. “At first, I thought it was my imagination. I thought I was imagining it because I was worried for you.”

  “No, he went after you,” Ellie said painfully.

  “Why?”

  “Because you weren’t protected like I was. He’s an awful spirit, Mac. He was smart—he knew if he could put you out of commission and prevent you from drumming, I couldn’t get to him.” Worriedly, Ellie reached out, cupping her hand against the dark growth of beard on Mac’s cheek. It was obvious he hadn’t shaved; his hair was a bit ruffled, and he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Mac had put her before himself, and that touched Ellie as nothing else could.

  “I see that look in your eyes,” Mac whispered, placing his hand against hers. The tingle of pleasure he felt from her hand pressed to his cheek radiated outward, and he ached to lean those last few inches and kiss her. He wondered if Ellie recalled his kissing her. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I survived, and more important, you will, too.”

  “I just feel so badly,” Ellie said, tears coming to her eyes. “I’ve never dealt with a spirit like this. I’ve been attacked before, but not at this level of intensity.”

  With a sigh, Mac nodded. “You scared the hell out of me, Ellie. When you went pale and slumped down on that chair, I thought you’d died. I stopped drumming and made a grab for you before you fell to the concrete.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I felt so damn helpless. You were unconscious, and all I could think to do was get you to the nearest medical facility—the dispensary on base. I lied to them. I told them you were in the car with me and suddenly lost consciousness.”

  Ellie’s lips parted and she whispered Mac’s name. “What got me in trouble was that I jumped between you and the entity in order to protect you. My spirit guides normally do the protecting, while I stand back out of the way and remain safe. They’re like a shield—they prevent me from being hurt.” With a shrug, Ellie said, “When I realized it was attacking you, I forgot. I forgot to stay out of it and let them do the work.” Shyly, she looked up into his dark, burning eyes. “I was so scared of losing you, Mac. I—I know it sounds silly. We haven’t known each other that long, but I put myself between you and the spirit and took the next blow.” She shuddered. “If I hadn’t, you might be dead….”

  Shaken, Mac placed his hands on her slumped shoulders. “Look at me,” he rasped, placing his finger beneath her chin. As Ellie lifted her lashes, he saw that her eyes were bright with tears. His mouth moved into a tender smile. “I found out something last night, too. I found out how very much you mean to me, Ellie—shamanism and all. When you were on the floor, out cold, all I could think of was that I’d never have another hour with you. We’d never get to hold each other when we danced. Never share a cup of coffee on that bench out back in your garden. Never—” He choked, unable to go on. Tears drifted down her cheeks, and he felt tears of his own in his eyes.

  Without a word, Mac drew Ellie forward and leaned down, capturing her mouth. This time she was awake. This time she was warm, alive and responsive to his tender, searching kiss. Her mouth was like a lush blossom opening beneath the questing sun, only he was the sun, her light, her life. Sliding his hands upward, framing her face, he drank deeply of her, of the life that she offered and surrendered to him. Their breathing was ragged, but synchronous. He felt Ellie tremble as he worshipped her mouth with reverence. Her hands slid around his shoulders and came to rest against his neck, her fingers threading through the short strands of his hair. Never had anything seemed so right to Mac, so rich, so simple and yet powerful.

  Time ebbed to a halt, a spinning heat enveloping Ellie as he kissed her deeply, exploring her as if she were some fragile flower that might suddenly crumple and be destroyed. He tasted of coffee, and of sunlight. His hands were strong, cherishing and steadying. His mouth was tender; she could feel him holding back, not wanting to take her hard and fast, but to savor her like a precious glass of wine.

  Ellie felt beautiful in a new and surprising way. Mac’s touch, his fingers tunneling through her hair, his mouth cajoling, his arms holding her close, converged in a symphony of sight, sound, texture and taste. She never wanted the kiss to end, but she also felt Mac’s powerful need ready to overwhelm the tight controls he had placed on himself for her benefit. Ellie had no reason to embarrass him in that way, and reluctantly eased her lips from his mouth.

  “You’re sweet,” Mac whispered roughly, kissing her cheek, brow and hair, “like honey. Hot, sweet honey.” He slid his fingers through her loose, thick hair of shimmering ebony silk. He couldn’t get enough of Ellie—he needed to touch her, taste her, inhale her. Mac wanted her to realize he loved her from the depths of his battered heart. He knew he wasn’t the best catch in the world, but he would give anything for a chance with this special woman. How he yearned to be an important part of her life!

  All those feelings, those needs, coursed through him in moments. He saw the dazed, lustrous look in Ellie’s dark eyes. In their depths he saw the first sparks of life—she was truly on the mend. Relief, sharp and serrating, overrode his other emotions. He framed her face with his hands and looked deep into her eyes.

  “You’re so important to me, Ellie. More important than any job. More important than flying. Do you understand that?”

  A quiver of fear ran through Ellie as she stared up at Mac. The sincerity coming from his generous heart was unquestionable. She drew in a ragged breath. “I’m so afraid, Mac. So afraid….”

  “I know you are,” he rasped. He kissed her brow. “Let’s both be scared, then. Me, of losing you, and you, of wanting me as much as I want you.”

  Ellie nodded, lost in the heat of his gaze, in the beauty of his desire for her, which went far beyond the physical realm. “Just be patient with me, Mac. Please….”

  His smile was gentle. “Sweetheart, you can have all the time in the world. I’m in no hurry.” That was a lie, but Ellie had to realize that she was the one in control of their escalating relationship. Mac knew she cared a great deal for him or she’d never have placed herself in that kind of danger for him. Her act of protection was akin to a person throwing herself in front of a car to save another, and he knew it. There were no medals for Ellie, for what she’d done to protect him. But he’d remember.

  “I’m so tired, Mac. I’m sorry, but I just can’t seem to stay awake anymore.”

  “I understand.” He eased off the bed and allowed Ellie to lie back down. He tucked the
sheet and blanket around her shoulders. “Get some sleep.”

  Tiredly, she nodded. “Listen, you don’t have to stay. I know you’ve probably been up all night and you’re exhausted, too.”

  He placed his hands on his hips and smiled down at her. “I saw you had a guest bedroom, so I’m going to make myself something to eat, shower and crash there. If you need anything, you let me know.”

  She held out her hand to him and he grasped it. “Thank you, Mac. You’re so very special. Thank you….”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ellie awoke slowly, the fragrance of frying bacon bringing her out of the deep, healing sleep. What time was it? She forced her lashes up and groggily looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was eight a.m.! Normally, she rose at five-thirty every morning. She lay very still, taking inventory of how she felt mentally, emotionally and physically. Surprisingly, she felt strong, very strong. Had it been because of the kiss Mac had shared with her last night?

  No longer doubting what her heart knew, Ellie eased into a sitting position, the sheet and blankets pooling around her waist. The bacon smelled good and she was hungry. In fact, she was starving. Getting out of bed, Ellie slipped into her white, ankle-length chenille robe. Her hair was in utter disarray, and she tamed some of the strands away from her face.

  After finishing her toilette, Ellie wandered down the hall toward the kitchen. Mac had stayed the night in the other room, and she had to admit a large part of her had wanted him in her bed—with her. She halted at the entrance to the kitchen.

  Mac was dressed in a pair of Levi’s and a blue plaid, short-sleeved shirt; his beard was gone and his hair had been recently washed. He was busy with the bacon and didn’t hear her approach. How wonderful he looked! Ellie felt her heart lurch with such an overpowering river of emotions that she could only stand there and feel them.

  Mac’s face was utterly relaxed, his mouth no longer in that thin line that indicated he was holding back a lot of feelings. Even his hair mirrored his casual state, a few strands dipping boyishly across his brow. Serenity and peace permeated the kitchen.

 

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