Beyond Valor

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Love?” He almost choked on the word, shocked. Was Megan reading his mind?

  Shrugging, she said, “Hey, I got a bunch of consonants and only two vowels. What do you want me to do?” She gave him a competitive grin.

  He studied his tiles. “Okay, I just thought you were teasing me.” He glanced up to see her reaction. Megan eyed him sadly for a moment. And then she brightened.

  “It’s the only word I could make, Luke. Sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry,” he soothed. “I like what we have. Even if we can’t get too close, we can be grateful to see each other every day. These grunts won’t see their loved ones for a year, and that sucks.”

  Glumly, Megan agreed. “War does nothing but cause pain and suffering.”

  “No disagreement there.” He laid down his tiles and created the word van.

  Megan picked four more tiles from the black bag. “My heart bleeds for the people of Afghanistan. They’re caught between their culture, this war and us.”

  “By the way,” Luke said, “did you talk to Mina? I heard she got back to the village.”

  Megan leaned forward and smirked. “I almost forgot! You owe me a box of chocolates, Collier!”

  Sitting back, he laughed. “You’re kidding me!” How beautiful she was in that moment, the merriment in her eyes, her cheeks growing pink. He wanted to sift his fingers through her red hair but stopped himself from going there. “Really? The Taliban leader gave her the go-ahead to have the children taught?”

  “Yep,” Megan said, aching over his smile. “Pay up. I really am looking forward to those chocolates, Luke. How soon can you get them here?”

  Groaning, he set the chair back on two legs, smiling. “Who woulda thunk? This teaches me not to bet with you, Trayhern. You’re dangerous.” Her eyes grew lustrous and Luke felt as if he could read her mind in that moment. She was dangerous to his heart and his body, and he found himself melting beneath her sultry look. He laid down the word not.

  “Hey, I don’t bet unless I think I can win.” She chortled. Picking up her tiles, she laid them down to create the word tame. “Anyway, I love chocolates and I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to getting a box of them from you.”

  “Well,” Luke warned, setting the chair down on its four legs, “this will take some finesse. You know it gets over a hundred degrees during the day around here. I have to find some way to get the box of chocolates packed in dry ice so they don’t melt into an unidentifiable blob by the time they reach you.”

  “I love See’s candy,” Megan hinted broadly, meeting his grin. “I especially love the coconut smothered in dark chocolate....”

  “Now you’re making me hungry.”

  Megan laughed softly. “Hey, I’m not trying to bust your buns, Collier. I just thought you’d like to know my preferences in case you can get exactly what I want.”

  Her teasing, husky voice rifled through him like sweet candy of another kind. Luke enjoyed her brashness, and his heart expanded with quiet joy. “Well,” he said, “I’ll see what I can do to rescue my good name as a scrounger for the company.”

  “Really,” Megan said, getting more serious as she picked more tiles from the bag, “I’d much rather have you get the needles and yarn for the widows in the village.”

  Luke studied his tiles. “Not to worry. Scroungers can get anything.” He created the word error on the board.

  “This I gotta see to believe.” She enjoyed the glimmer in his hazel eyes, which had taken on a gold tone in the low light.

  “I deliver.”

  “I bet you do.”

  “Shall we get back to Scrabble and not wander off into forbidden territory?”

  “Oh, I thought that’s where we were.”

  “You’re a real tease, Trayhern. You know that?”

  “And you have such a way with words, Collier.” Megan plunked down the next word, tart.

  “It’s hell keeping my hands off you,” Luke said.

  “I know. Same here.”

  “I wish we could get sent TDY to Bagram.”

  “Won’t happen. We’re shorthanded. No company can afford to have both its medics leave for TDY at the same time.”

  Luke nodded. He laid down the next word, roar. “So, were you a precocious child growing up, I wonder?”

  “My mother would tell you I was a wallflower in comparison to my twin, Addy.”

  “What did you do as a wallflower?” He was hungry to know about Megan.

  Shrugging, Megan pulled more tiles from the bag. “I was always the one reading, writing and drawing. I wasn’t into sports like Addy was.”

  “You weren’t competitive?”

  “I’m competitive, just in a different way. I was quiet, like my dad.” Her voice grew soft. “My mom says Dad and I are like twins. And yet he was a U.S. Coast Guard officer and skippered a ship. He saved so many people’s lives during the course of his thirty-year career. My dad is a real hero. By his actions, he showed people what he was made of. I really like that about my dad. I’d like to think I came from the same mold.” She laid down the word tor.

  “It’s called walking your talk.” Luke raised his head and held her softened blue gaze. There was such strength in her at that moment. It was nothing obvious, but he could feel her confidence. Maybe it was that steel Trayhern genetic core he sensed.

  “Absolutely. I’m not one to boast or tell other people about myself.”

  “We’re opposites,” Luke said, a smile curving his lips. He laid down the word base on the board. “In my family, I was firstborn. Julie, my sister, came three years later. I was always restless, talkative and curious. Julie is more introspective, introverted and quiet.”

  “Like me. I bet Julie and I would get along like a hermit crab in a shell.” She laughed. “Did you get along with Julie?”

  “We’re close. I’m an extrovert, and I was into everything and everyone, and had an insatiable curiosity about life. Julie was very happy to remain in the background, take classical piano lessons and ballet and be in shadow status.”

  Pleased, Megan said, “Well, I’m not a pianist, although I have a decent voice. I love to sing when I’m alone.” She saw the joy in his eyes. “Only in the shower,” she warned. “I don’t sing in front of anyone.”

  “Pity. You have a beautiful, cultured voice and I’ll bet you’re an alto.”

  “Yes, I am. My mother is a great singer, too. She sings in the local church choir. I always loved going to church because I got to sing.”

  “You ought to tell the chaplain. He holds services every Sunday and the grunts sing. I’m sure they’d like an angelic voice like yours added to it.”

  “Oh, no,” Megan said quickly. She laid down the word barter on the board. “Remember? I’m shy. I like living in the background. I don’t like being out front or drawing attention to myself. I prefer to just quietly do what I do best.”

  “Well,” Luke said, his voice lowering with feeling, “I wish I could give you my attention.”

  Remembering his hard, searching kiss, Megan hesitated and was held enthralled by his dark look. Her throat went dry and she couldn’t think of anything to say. Without thinking, she reached over and grazed his hand with the dressing on it. “I know. So do I.”

  “This is a special hell on earth,” Luke muttered. He wished he could have felt Megan’s fingers, but the thick dressing and latex gloves prevented it.

  “It is.” Her voice softened. “But we have to persevere, Luke. If what we have is right and good, it’s going to not only remain strong, but grow. My dad always said the test of time proves everything.” Megan gave him a tender look. “And we’re trapped in this together. Neither of us likes it, but we’re adults and we’ll accept it.”

  “I don’t like being an adult. I’m like a kid trapped in
an adult body.”

  Giggling, Megan said, “Oh, you may say that, Collier, but in my eyes, you’re a real hero. You proved that the other day.” Stopping herself from reaching out, Megan tucked her hands in her lap as she saw his eyes turn predator-like. Only, it was a man wanting his woman—in all ways.

  Chapter 11

  Where had a month flown? Megan had just handed out three different knitting patterns to ten women from the village. The sun was in the west, hanging above the sharp granite peaks. Hurriedly, Megan gathered up her supplies, waved goodbye to her protégées and opened the door to the street.

  “Do you have a moment?” Mina called from the door of her home.

  Megan didn’t see the Humvee that Sergeant Payne and his men were using to come pick her up. “Yes, hold on.” Megan spoke into the radio attached to the epaulet of her uniform. She called Buck and told him where to pick her up. Turning, Megan hurried back up the street to where Mina stood in her dark purple robe and scarf.

  “I haven’t seen you for a few days,” Megan said by way of greeting as they went inside the home. The hundred-degree July heat was baking the valley.

  “We’ve all been busy,” Mina said. She went upstairs to the kitchen. “Come, I need to talk to you about something. It won’t take long.”

  As she set her medic pack on a chair near the table, Megan noticed the teapot, cups and some sweets on a plate were already prepared. Mina seemed distracted. Megan wondered what was up as she sat down facing her at the table. “This is really nice. I love your sweets!”

  Mina smiled. “I must say, it was very kind of you to share the box of chocolates that Luke gave to you. The women of my village have never tasted coconut and dark chocolate before.”

  Grinning, Megan held up her cup while Mina poured the tea into it. “It was a lot of fun. I liked winning that bet from Luke.”

  “You’ve been very, very good to us, Megan. And so have Luke and Captain Hall.” Mina placed the teapot on an old, frayed pot holder near her left hand. “Now we have a teacher, we have a classroom and our children are expanding their minds. You come in twice a week and hold clinic, and so does Luke.” She picked up her cup and sipped the steaming tea. “Timor and I have never seen our people so happy.” Her eyes grew moist as she regarded Megan. “And I believe it is because of you. You are a woman in a man’s world, and you are a positive force of nature who has come into our lives.”

  Feeling heat spread across her face, Megan gave her a sheepish look. “There are many people coming in to help your village, Mina. It isn’t just me. I’m a tiny cog in a bigger wheel. It’s true, my cousin Emma and her husband, Khalid, have done a lot for you. They are devoted to helping the villages along the border. They know how important it is to educate your children.”

  “True, true,” Mina said. Her brows fell. “But you, Megan, are like an angel who guards this village and our people. I’m not the only one who sees this. Timor holds you in high regard, too.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Megan said, surprised. She rarely saw the leader of the village because he was constantly riding from one of the four villages beneath his leadership by horseback to another. He was gone two weeks out of every month with his leader duties. Mina had a part-time husband as far as Megan was concerned. And when Timor was gone, Mina was in command. The people of this village loved her, and Megan could see why. She was an educated woman who adored her people as if they were her own children.

  “Before Timor left to ride to the other three villages this morning, we had a very deep and important conversation,” she murmured. Setting the cup down on the porcelain saucer, Mina folded her hands. “My husband and I are in total agreement about this.”

  Stymied, Megan tilted her head as she drank the tea. “What agreement?” She saw the Afghan woman’s face become somber. Her full lips were pursed. “You need to go to Captain Hall,” Mina began in a whisper, “and tell him Jabbar Gholam is coming over the eastern mountain to attack your Marine Company two days from now.”

  Megan sucked in a quick breath. “Oh, no.”

  “Wait,” Mina demanded holding up her hand. “Timor and I agree you need the information to stop him. There is a warlord in Pakistan who has paid millions of dollars to raise an army of four hundred al-Qaeda soldiers who are coming across the border as I speak. They are gathering at Jabbar’s village on the other side of the mountain. And then, tomorrow night at midnight, they are coming across on goat trails to attack your compound at first light.”

  Fear shot through Megan. She studied Mina’s serious features. “A-are you sure, Mina?”

  “I would stake my life on this, Megan. You must inform your captain. You must do something to drive back their attack.”

  Megan’s heart raced with more fear. It would be a hundred and forty men against a massive enemy force of four hundred. Swallowing hard, she asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

  Mina wrapped her slender hands around the fragile teacup. “Timor and I respect what the Americans are doing for our people. And he has already sent a messenger to Jabbar warning him and this Pakistan warlord not to attack the Marines. Our runner just returned this afternoon with the answer. Jabbar says he must attack. It cannot be stopped.” Reaching out, Mina touched her hand. “Megan, you are like a daughter to me and Timor. The people of the village think you are an angel sent by Allah to protect us. We cannot, in good conscience, allow you or the Marines to be murdered by al-Qaeda.”

  Anxiety sizzled through Megan. “Okay, I believe you.” She suddenly stood. “This isn’t much warning. I have to get back to the company, Mina.”

  Rising to her feet, Mina nodded. “I understand. If Captain Hall wants any more information, I will be available to help. I know the route Jabbar is taking over the mountain. There are many trails. You will need to know which one he’s taking.”

  Megan’s mind ran in a hundred directions at once as she considered the information. “Yes, Captain Hall will absolutely need to know that.”

  Mina pulled a piece of folded paper from her pocket and handed it to Megan. “Timor drew a map. We hope your captain will know where the attack is coming from.” She sighed heavily. “We are sickened about the loss of life of all concerned.”

  Megan took the paper and opened it up. It was a very clear and detailed map of the east mountain. “I hate war,” she muttered, stuffing the map in the pocket of her utilities.

  “Yes,” Mina said wearily, giving her a weak smile. “Life is precious. It should be honored, loved and cared for. Not brutally ripped from us. You need to go, my friend.”

  Picking up her pack, Megan went over and hugged Mina. The woman was tall and thin. Often, she had seen Mina give food from her home to the widows, who had so little. As a consequence, Mina was close to starvation. She always brought over MREs for Mina and the poor of the village so they wouldn’t starve. “I’ll be in touch. Thank you.”

  * * *

  Luke sat beside Megan as Hall called in his sergeants for a strategy session. Within ten minutes, the sergeants arrived and sat down around the table. Knowing how anxious she must be, Luke wanted to reach out and hold her hand. Of course, he couldn’t. Her beautiful mouth was compressed. Her hands were two knots pressed into her lap. If only he could tell her it was going to be all right, but this was a serious attack against the Marine company.

  Hall launched into the details given to him by Megan. On a wall map, he outlined the trail that Timor had drawn to show the movement of the enemy at midnight. His voice was grim. “I’ve been on the radio with Bagram Air Base, Camp Bravo as well as Kabul. We’ve got a drone specifically assigned to watch the east mountain. We’ll be getting Apache combat helicopters provided by the Black Jaguar Squadron out of Camp Bravo. There will be B-52s coming in to drop five-hundred-pound bombs first on the mountain after the enemy is confirmed on the path.” He tapped the map. “Heavy bombing is goi
ng to destroy a lot of them. After the bombing phase, we’re sending in the Apache helicopters to finish them off. All the while, there will be a drone flying high above and we’ll be receiving real-time info from Kabul headquarters at Bagram Air Base.”

  He turned and studied the attentive group. “Air Force jets will be on standby at Bagram in case there’s any cleanup that the Apaches don’t finish off. By the time dawn comes—” he tapped the watch on his wrist

  “—bodies are going to litter the slopes. There should be no one alive. And we’re sure the enemy will run back over the mountain. If they do, the Apaches will meet them on the ridge and cut off their escape route. No one is returning to Pakistan.”

  “Sir,” Buck asked, “what about the local militia leader, Gholam? He’s got a village on the other side of that mountain. Can you bomb it back into the stone age, too?”

  “No,” Hall said. “One of the things Timor Khan requested of us was not to bomb Gholam’s village.” With a grimace, Hall added, “This is a political decision, Sergeant. Timor Khan has to live with this Taliban leader in his backyard. Khan is afraid if we destroy his village, the Pakistani warlord will launch another attack against us with his help. If, on the other hand, we merely destroy the al-Qaeda assault and leave the village alone, it sends a positive signal to Gholam. If he leaves us alone, we’ll leave his village alone.”

  “Maybe Gholam will die,” Payne said.

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I do know Khan is adamant we leave that village alone, and we will.”

  Clenching his fist, Payne drawled, “I’d like to get my hands on that bastard. He’s done a lot of damage on this side of the mountain to us and Lar Sholtan.”

  Hall shrugged. “The Taliban isn’t going away, Sergeant. It doesn’t matter whether Gholam dies or not. Someone else will take his place. Khan feels Gholam can be worked with to a degree. He agreed to allow a teacher to come in and teach the boys and girls of Khan’s villages.”

  “Sir,” Luke asked, “where does the company come into this operation?”

  “After sunrise and after all the aircraft and helicopters have finished with their work, I’ll be sending two platoons up on the mountain. You’ll be going with them, Doc.” Hall pinned Megan with a look. “And you’ll set up the clinic for casualties if there are firefights up on that mountain.”