Resisting Her Army Doc Rival

by Sue MacKay

  ‘You’re not feeling up to singing with the band tonight, then?’ Sam asked as he picked up a sandwich and opened it to scrutinise the contents.

  ‘Haven’t got the energy.’ She wasn’t going to sing again while Sam was still on base. Last night’s gig had led to complications that she couldn’t afford to repeat.

  ‘You might not get off that easily,’ Cassy said. ‘The whole camp was talking about you this morning.’

  That explained a few looks and nudges between soldiers she’d noted that morning in the dining mess. ‘They’ll get over it,’ she sighed. ‘Jock and Sam will be gone in a couple of days anyway.’

  ‘All the more reason for a repeat performance tonight, only this time you’re wanted out on the parade ground so we can all listen, not just the officers.’

  ‘Thanks for nothing, Cassy.’ Seemed everyone was deaf when it came to her saying she wasn’t doing it. All she could hope was for the trucks to be late getting them back to base so that by the time they’d had showers and dinner everyone would’ve gone to their barracks. Hopefully.

  But it seemed she had no say in the matter. By ten o’clock that night she was lounging in the bar with a water bottle in her hand when Jock and the gang started dragging the gear outside. ‘Give us a hand, Maddy,’ Jock called out.

  ‘I’m not singing.’

  ‘You’re one of the band now. You have to help.’

  ‘That’s a yes,’ Sam said from behind her.

  She dropped her head and stared at her feet. It had been hard today, working with those beautiful, trusting children. Last night, pouring her soul into the songs had been cathartic. Kissing Sam afterwards hadn’t been. Simple. Don’t kiss the guy. Sing then leave. Looking up, she found Sam watching her with amusement written all over his gorgeous face. ‘What?’ she growled.

  ‘You love it.’

  A sigh whispered across her lips. ‘Yeah, I do.’

  ‘Come on, take an end of this table, will you? We can put our gear on it.’

  ‘We haven’t got any gear.’ She hoisted her end up.

  ‘We? Looks like we’ve got ourselves a singer, guys.’

  The cheers were embarrassing. ‘I’ll need lots of soda.’ It was hot work singing and leaping around in the tight space amongst the band. And afterwards I will leave on my own, will not walk the perimeter. Will not kiss Sam. Will get some sleep.

  Sounded very boring. But playing safe often was.

  * * *

  ‘Did someone put out a bulletin about a party?’ Sam asked Jock as he looked around the parade ground. Every soldier except those on duty had to be out there.

  ‘Looks like it.’

  Most of the guys were waiting for Madison, Sam would wager. Who could blame them? When she opened her mouth and let rip with the vocals she was something else.

  Not just in the singing department either. Those kisses had stayed with him all night, kept him awake and hard. They hadn’t gone away during the day while he’d operated. And they were there now, reminding him of what he would soon be walking away from. ‘Let’s make it our farewell bash,’ he suggested to Jock.

  Leaving the base was part of the deal when he’d signed up. It came with relief from getting through working in a hostile territory, and then there was the regret of leaving men he’d become friendly with. Some would go with him, heading for the same place, others would remain here for another six months. That’s how the system worked. But this time he’d be leaving Madison just when they were getting to know each other. So why wasn’t he pleased he was being saved from facing up to his guilt and denying himself the opportunity for happiness? Hanging around, pretending to push her away, all the time falling into confusion, was a recipe for disaster.

  ‘You haven’t heard a thing I’ve been saying, have you?’ Jock sounded more than a little peeved with him.

  ‘Tell me again.’

  ‘You going to listen?’

  ‘If you hurry up.’ Sam tipped fluid down his parched throat and waited, almost patiently.

  ‘Your eyes are already misting over with lust for Maddy. What are you going to do about her? I hope you’ve got her contact details stored in your phone.’ Jock picked up his guitar and strummed a few chords, underlining his comments. ‘I’d hate for you to let her go.’

  ‘You’re overstepping the buddy line,’ Sam growled.

  Jock rolled his eyes expressively. ‘Don’t go before you’ve told her why you’re so cautious. I reckon you’ll end up regretting it if you do.’

  ‘Relationship counselling your thing, is it?’ Regret was guaranteed. So was relief for what he’d save Maddy from.

  ‘Hey, guys, what’s our first song?’ Maddy stepped into his line of sight, looking happy at the prospect of singing to those soldiers hanging around waiting for the music to begin.

  Boyse called, ‘I’ve written a list. Come take a look, Maddy. Let me know if there’s any song you don’t know.’

  She gave Sam a wink. ‘Now, there’s a man who gets things done.’ When she sauntered away she gave a wee wiggle of her butt.

  And sent his hormones into overdrive. ‘Someone dim the bloody lights.’

  Jock’s roar of laughter was the only reply he got.

  Sam took one last slug of his water and set the bottle aside. Time to get rocking. And if he couldn’t ignore Maddy strutting her stuff in front of him, he’d enjoy every last movement she made, absorb each note she sang, and store up a load of memories to take away with him.

  His pick slid across the guitar strings effortlessly and the guys immediately joined in. They had themselves a show.

  Then Maddy raised her microphone to that sexy mouth and the notes began to pour out, stunning the soldiers into silence. Then some clown let rip a wolf whistle and the silence was over, with people swaying to the beat and joining in the chorus.

  Sam played hard, barely letting one song finish before starting the next. He let the music filter into his soul and went with the energy being created out in front of them. And he watched Maddy as she moved from one side of their stand to the other, almost swallowing the mic as she belted out the emotion-filled words.

  Words that scorched him. Words that tugged at his heart. Words she’d given new meaning to, and had him yet again wondering where all that pain and anger came from.

  ‘I need a break,’ Maddy called after nearly an hour. ‘A cold drink wouldn’t go amiss. My throat’s drier than the desert out there.’

  ‘Get that into you.’ Sam passed over her favourite soda and savoured the moment her fingers touched his. Warm, soft temptation. He bit down on a groan, and shifted out of the way to avoid any more accidental touching. Despite sixty-odd personnel hanging around in front of them, his ability to control the need for her was hanging by a thread. Another touch of that satin-like skin and he’d have to haul her close, kiss that erotic mouth. Make himself some more images to carry home.

  ‘You going to miss this?’ Maddy followed him.

  ‘The band? Yes.’ Another step backwards. Then another, and he was tipping off the edge of their stand. As his arms windmilled and his feet hit the ground he heard Jock’s annoying laugh.

  ‘Good one, man.’

  Thanks, buddy.

  ‘Sam, are you okay?’ Maddy was standing where he’d been, her eyes twinkling with laughter and that mouth twitching. ‘You should look where you’re going.’

  You should back off and give me more space. He leapt back onto the stand and brushed past her. Even that felt excruciating—so close and yet so far. ‘Boyse, where’s that song list?’

  ‘Yes, Captain.’ She flicked a salute in his direction, but the amusement had died, as he’d intended.

  What he hadn’t meant to happen was for the hurt turning her chocolate eyes to bog. He hated that bog colour. ‘I deserve that.’


  ‘Forget it. Let’s get the band cranked up again.’ She turned a shoulder to him, looked around for the other guys. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Madison,’ Sam growled, and moved close so he could talk without being overheard. ‘I did tell you how your voice affected me.’ Had he really said she was screwing with his head? His hand slammed across his skull as frustration of every kind alternated between turning him hot and cold.

  ‘I see.’ Her mouth tipped ever so slightly upward. ‘Then let’s get the music cranked up again. I want to see more of you out of control.’ Her forefingers made parentheses between them.

  She was toying with him. ‘Easy, Maddy. You have no idea what you’re starting here.’ Neither did he, when he thought about it. And he owed it to himself, if not Maddy, to give his thoughts and feelings due consideration. Wanting her and having her—two different outcomes. Outcome? It would be a conflagration if he followed through on the heat burning him up. Where was the next wave of cold coming from? He needed it. ‘Guys, Madison’s ready to start rocking again.’

  Maddy leaned close and whispered, ‘Are you sure you want this? I’m going to sing like you’ve never heard so you’ll always remember these few days we’ve shared.’

  He should’ve quit while he’d been running parallel with her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  POUNDING ON THE door of her room dragged Madison from a rare deep sleep.

  ‘Maddy, you in there?’ Sam called.

  ‘Go away. It’s my day off,’ she muttered as she tugged on cotton track pants and a long T-shirt. Opening the door, she said, ‘This had better be good.’

  It was. Sam was. Dressed in navy shorts and an open-necked cream shirt that contrasted perfectly with his tanned skin, here were all her forbidden dreams wrapped up in one stunning package. Her shoulder bumped against the doorframe and she kept it there to keep from dropping to the floor. To think she’d thought he was good looking. She’d been so far off the mark it was hilarious. If this was a laughing matter.

  Sam was waving keys in front of her. ‘We’re going to the market.’

  ‘We are?’ Her eyes followed those keys. Off to the market. Off to the market.

  ‘I’ve the loan of a car and you said you enjoyed shopping at stalls so here’s your chance. I need to get a few knick-knacks to take home.’ He grinned. ‘If you need further convincing, this is my last day here. You won’t get another offer like it.’

  ‘What sort of knick-knacks?’ she stalled.

  ‘A couple of souvenirs for Ma and Pa Creighton. I am going to see them when I get home,’ he added lamely.

  ‘I’m glad. They’ll be thrilled.’

  ‘You think? After I’ve been avoiding them?’ He winced. ‘I’ve never been good at getting too close to people,’ he admitted in a rush.

  ‘That’s sad. You’re missing out on a lot,’ said she who hadn’t done any better in the previous couple of years.

  Sam’s fingers combed through his hair. ‘Right from the day Ma and Pa Creighton took me in I worked hard at making them like me and at living up to their expectations with good results at school, but I always kept a bit of me back.’

  The bit that was unconditional love and acceptance, she’d bet. ‘Why?’ Though she’d guessed the reason, she wanted to hear him tell her as a start to admitting what held him back. Not that she’d be following her own example any time soon.

  ‘I tend to lose those who are important to me.’

  Strange conversation to be having at her door but she wasn’t about to stop it. ‘Was there someone you got close to after your mother died?’ He’d been very young when his father had left. The incomprehension of that act would’ve hurt a small boy deeply, and to be followed a few years later by the death of his mother must’ve been catastrophic for a teenager trying to make his mark on the world. But if he’d suffered another bereavement as an adult, that would be tough to accept, might make him feel like a pariah.

  His eyes darkened as he stared blankly along the barracks corridor. His voice was a monotone as he recited the facts. ‘My best mate. We met in the army and after I rescued him on day two from a pounding he was receiving from three thugs who had issues with soldiers we got on famously. Were always posted on the same tours of duty, or at the same base back home. He was a great guy.’

  ‘Where is this friend now?’ Something in his expression told her this mate hadn’t just decided not to be friends any more. Another loss for Sam to take on board and cope with. But talking about his friend might ease some of the tension tightening his shoulders, his hands.

  A shudder ripped through him. ‘Gone.’ Sam turned to stare through the outside door, his mind not with her.

  Madison waited quietly, giving him space, feeling for him and knowing there were no words to lighten his grief.

  Finally he glanced over at her, hope warring with regret in his face. ‘So, you up to helping me buy souvenirs?’

  ‘Give me thirty minutes.’ There was no way she wasn’t going with him now.

  ‘Too easy, Maddy.’ That grin was back, lopsided and uneasy but back. ‘Meet me over at the gate.’ And he was gone.

  She wasted precious minutes watching him stride across the parade ground. In coming to the Peninsula she’d met a man she could relate to. A man who was sad and lonely, and yet brave and determined to carry on despite the burden he carried. He was good at disguise, hid his true self behind a cheeky grin and cocky attitude.

  Inside her room, Madison looked over at her skimpy collection of mufti clothes and quickly decided on the knee-length blue shorts and white T-shirt. Then she remembered the warnings about what to wear when going out amongst the locals. Cotton pants replaced the shorts, a long-sleeved shirt the T. Snatching up a towel, she raced to the shower stalls.

  As cool water blasted her from the shower head another thought slammed her. Sam had effectively told her they were never going to get close. As if that was likely anyway, with her hang-ups about her body and being left by the man who’d professed to love her, and with Sam’s fear of people leaving him. What a great mix that’d make for any relationship.

  She’d barely discussed her feelings for Sam with herself, wasn’t sure about anything except keeping herself safe, and now, if it all got too much and she did try to explain to Sam—well, now she had the perfect excuse to keep quiet. There’d be no happy endings for them.

  Sudden panic filled Madison. Sam was leaving tomorrow. They’d barely got started on getting to know each other. But it was best that way. There was no future in spending more time with him and falling a little bit in love with him.

  Shampoo stung her eyes. Sluicing it away, she came to a decision. She’d spend the day with Sam, enjoy his company and have some fun. Tomorrow she’d say goodbye and accept that none of this mattered.

  She’d worked with him over the previous few days, now she’d play with him. Then they’d get on with their lives and maybe, since their career paths were similar, bump into each other occasionally over the years and swap notes on what they were up to.

  Her body slumped. So not what she wanted, but all she could face since she didn’t have the courage to expose herself to him, or ask him to take a chance on not having a family. Besides, minutes ago he’d warned her off getting involved, and if showing him the result of that fire wasn’t getting involved, nothing was.

  * * *

  ‘Try this.’ Sam held out the kebab that he’d bought from the street stall in the bustling town they’d arrived in twenty minutes ago. ‘It makes a good breakfast.’

  Madison shook her head at him as she chewed on a mouthful of beef shawarma. The pita bread and its fillings were delectable, putting her in food heaven. Swallowing, she said, ‘No, thanks. I’m not sharing this.’

  ‘Typical.’ He laughed before taking her elbow to lead them along the street towards a long, low building w
here a constant stream of people, locals and tourists, was coming and going. ‘This is the market,’ he said unnecessarily.

  ‘The noise level’s off the scale,’ she muttered five minutes later, and had to shout it again when Sam stared blankly at her.

  ‘It sure is. Try to stick with me, okay? It’s too easy to lose each other in here.’

  ‘I reckon.’ She didn’t want to find herself alone, facing some the men who were eying her up and down. Tossing her sandwich wrapper in a bin, she slipped her arm through Sam’s and held on. For safety reasons, of course, nothing to do with enjoying the warmth of his skin under her fingers or the sensation of belonging that enveloped her. Where that came from she wasn’t sure and had no intention of exploring the answers that were popping up in her head. Not now, at least. Today was purely for fun, nothing else.

  ‘What do you want to look at?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Those scarves look pretty.’ She nodded at the stall they were approaching. ‘They’d be great gifts for Mum and Maggie.’ She wouldn’t mind a couple for herself either.

  ‘Ma Creighton might like one, too.’ Sam choked back a laugh after some harsh bargaining had gone down between her and the stallholder. ‘Do you really need nine? How many sisters have you got?’ Sam’s laughter faded. ‘It’s strange. I feel I should know more about you than I actually do.’

  ‘I’ve only got one.’

  ‘I thought that’s what you said, but seeing all those scarves I figured I’d misheard.’

  ‘They’re vibrant and colourful. My sister’s going to love them, whether she wants to or not,’ she retorted. ‘She’s four years older than me, which she believes makes her wiser, something I disagree on.’

  ‘Sounds like I’ve got something in common with your sister. Disagreeing with you.’ That laugh was back, nudging aside the tightness that had started creeping into her system when he’d turned it off.