Читать книгу His To Protect - Karen Rock - Страница 12

4

“GOOD WORK, NURSE ROWE.” The Red Cross’s chief nurse, Marjorie Little, nodded briskly as she strode down the long row of cots lining the temporary aid station’s sides.

They’d erected the house-size tent this morning since the inflatable field hospital units wouldn’t be operational for a couple of days. Minimum.

“Thanks.” Cassie peeled her damp collar from her neck and hoped for sooner than later. She secured an ACE wrap around her latest patient’s swollen ankle and turned, striving not to sway on her feet. It’d been a long ten-hour shift, but damned if she’d let it show. In fact, strange as it sounded, she’d enjoyed the frenetic pace. It was so different than the usual crawl of taking blood pressure and giving flu vaccinations at her father’s general practice. Best of all, she’d been too busy to think of a certain pilot...

Moans and cries, accompanied by murmuring medical volunteers and beeping, generator-fueled machines, comprised the day’s sound track, as relentless as the pelting rain against their canvas roof. The combined scents of sweat and antiseptic hung in the humid air. It coated her mouth, lined her nasal passages. She could smell it on her uniform. Her hair even...

“It’s all gone,” sobbed her patient, Melinda, an island tour guide. She clutched a small framed photo of her family—the only thing she’d managed to grab before her house collapsed, she’d told Cassie earlier.

“I’m so sorry.” She clamped down her own fatigue and smoothed a hand over her charge’s forehead. Good. Cooler. The ibuprofen had kicked in.

Despite her relief, a restless feeling swept through her. For the hundredth time today, she wished she could do more to help. Her patient would regain her health, but what about the rest of her life?

The flattened structures she’d glimpsed before landing on a less damaged coastal section being used for the Coast Guard’s staging area flashed through her mind. Eroded beaches, boats and debris appeared to be shoved ashore by an invisible, monstrous hand. The same one that’d punched out windows and torn the roofs off the few standing buildings. Lives, ripped apart at the seams, crushed and pulverized by powers beyond their control.

Although she had never experienced anything like that, in her own way, she could relate.

Her weary gaze drifted over the large bandage that hid a stitched gash on the woman’s temple.

She stiffened.

Right.

Tetanus shot.

Her patient risked lockjaw.

Adrenaline zipped through Cassie. A buzz. Urgent and fierce.

She moved aside as Raeanne slid by to attend to a writhing man on the cot beside Melinda’s and flagged down a physician.

“Doctor.” Cassie held out her patient’s paperwork. “I need a signature for a tetanus shot order.”

The stooped man scanned the patient’s file, peeked at her bandage and scrawled something fairly illegible on the chart before hurrying on.

“Do you have any allergies?” she asked her charge while consulting the chart. It never hurt to double-check. Melinda shook her head.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Taufik.” Raeanne squeezed Cassie’s arm as she passed by again, her faint smile appearing and disappearing as fast as it came.

“Any chance you might be pregnant?” Cassie continued.

“No.”

She snapped the chart closed and gave Melinda a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back with your shot.”

A moment later, she slipped behind the curtained partition that held their medication and other supplies.

“How’s it going?” asked Raeanne, tapping a couple of oxys into a paper cup.

“Good.” She scanned the syringes, looking for the right size. She selected the correct needle and turned slowly, stabbing pain shooting down her spine.

“Good?” Raeanne dropped the bottle in the med cabinet, locked it and blew a dangling red curl out of her face. Her narrowed green eyes skimmed over Cassie. “That almost sounded like you meant it. You were so quiet on the flight, I thought you were having second thoughts.”

And she had been, she mused, grabbing a vial of Dtap. “I’m glad I came.” Which was mostly true, if not for Mark.

Still, she couldn’t shake the memory of how his arms had made her feel safe, his kisses transporting her away from all the fear of the upcoming mission. Little had she known he was a devil in disguise.

And now she risked seeing him again when she retrieved the bag she’d left on his helicopter. If only she’d taken a moment to remember her things rather than dashing away the second they landed, desperate to avoid Mark.

At her frustrated breath, Raeanne raised her eyebrows. “Now you definitely don’t sound sincere. Spill it, girl. You’re allowed to complain on your first day. After that, I’ll only pretend to listen.”

Cassie’s mood lifted and she smiled, or tried to. Her lips felt too tired to move. “I’m no whiner.”

The curtains parted and a couple of nurses hustled inside. “I need coffee. Stat,” rasped one of them, a woman with thick dark hair done up in a topknot. She yanked off her stained uniform top and grabbed another from the shelf.

“Me, too.” Her companion popped in a piece of gum before grabbing an armload of fresh linens. “When is our relief coming on?”

“Two hours,” Raeanne put in. “A minute over that, we strike.”

She stared at the chortling group before laughing, too, marveling at the nurses’ capacity for humor in the face of grueling work. It was a coping mechanism for sure, and a way to bond. Never before had she felt such camaraderie. She liked it.

Was this what had appealed to Jeff? Tempted him to work such a risky job? She’d always thought he was crazy. Had wished he’d stop giving their anxiety-prone mother reasons to fret. But now she saw it. A glimmer, maybe, of what had motivated him to leave their hometown.

Why he’d urged her to do the same.

“So, who knows something about our hot pilot?” one of the nurses asked. The strong smell of antiseptic soap stung Cassie’s nose as the bubbly brunette lathered suds across her palms and beneath her fingernails.

She pulled in 0.5 ml of Dtap and capped her needle with shaking hands.

“He lost one of his crew members,” Raeanne supplied. Large bubbles glugged from the water dispenser as she pulled its blue lever. “Really broke him up. He was grounded, too. Had to get clearance to fly again. My cousin, Rob, the copilot, said this is the first disaster relief mission LCDR Sampson’s flown since then. They’re all a little worried for him.”

The other RN ripped a couple of paper towels from the dispenser and turned. She arched a brow. “I’ll comfort him.”

“Why are four of my nurses not treating patients?” snapped the chief nurse, breaking up the tableau by thrusting through the curtain, her mouth pressed in a firm line.

“Sorry, Nurse Little,” gasped the brunette.

“Just getting medication.” Raeanne shook one of her cups, making the pills rattle.

“And gossiping,” asserted Nurse Little. “One, we don’t spread rumors.” She ticked her fingers. “Two, we don’t waste precious time doing so when there are patients to treat. Am I clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” whispered the cowed young women as they scurried back into the main part of the tent.

Cassie, however, didn’t trust her trembling legs to move so she held on to the plastic shelving, hoping the spinning world would stop soon.

Mark had been grounded?

This was his first disaster mission since Jeff’s disappearance?

She pictured his dark expression last night when they’d met. Recalled his assurance that he wasn’t the best company. Had his concern for this trip been the reason?

Yet it didn’t match the image she’d formed of the pilot who’d abandoned Jeff. The overconfident, callous man who cared only about following procedures, not saving lives.

The rumors had to be wrong.

“Cassie, you look pale.”

She shook her head, so many thoughts buzzing in her brain she couldn’t speak one out loud.

“Yes, you are. And tired.” A firm hand pressed against her brow and Nurse Little’s eyes bored into hers. “This is your first mission, correct?”

She nodded. Beyond the curtains someone shrieked, a long, agonizing sound that trailed off ominously.

“And you’ve been working...”

“Since we arrived, ma’am,” she murmured, dredging her voice from its hiding spot, somewhere down deep in her throat. She wasn’t about to mention that she hadn’t slept the night before, too busy tangling limbs with the helicopter pilot responsible for her brother’s death.

“Right.” Nurse Little took the tetanus needle from Cassie’s hand. “I’m relieving you tonight. Give me a report on your patients, then shower and bed. I’ll need you back at 0600 hours. That’s an order.”

“But Melinda...” protested Cassie. And it was her turn for a new admit. The screaming patient...that had to be hers. She was needed. Couldn’t quit now.

“I’ll give her the shot. Tetanus?”

“Yes. But really, I can...”

Nurse Little arched an eyebrow. “I believe I’m perfectly capable of giving a shot. And a directive. Is there some other issue I’m unaware of?”

Cassie hung her head. “I left my duffel on the helicopter. I don’t have anything to change into.”

Nurse Little pointed at a bag in the corner. “You can borrow a clean T-shirt and shorts from me. Anything else?”

Cassie backed up. “No, ma’am.”

Her supervisor’s face softened. “Get some rest, dear. Lord knows we’ll need a fresh pair of hands in the morning.”

“Thank you.” After reporting out to her superior, she grabbed the clothes and headed through the back entrance to the hastily built women’s showers—basically a couple of stalls with sheets for curtains and a self-pumping water unit.

Despite the crude setup, she sighed when she stripped off her limp uniform and lathered her hair, washing the grime away, wishing the devastating losses she’d witnessed today were as easy to erase. None of the wounds she’d treated had come close to soothing the hurts of these people who’d been separated from homes and loved ones.

She pictured the desperate locals who’d searched the patient board, looking for their family members, leaving hollow eyed and empty-handed. How she ached for them. She knew what loss felt like. The crushing pressure that seemed to bury your heart alive, made taking a full breath impossible, your mind spinning in hopeless circles, trying and failing to understand that a part of you was gone forever. That your life would never be the same, would never be whole.

Water pulsed against her hair as she scraped her nails over her scalp, massaging in the shampoo. Pushing back the rising darkness, Cassie drew on a memory of the most rewarding part of the day—reuniting a girl with a stuffed dog that had been a dumb-luck find. Cassie had spotted it during her lunch break when she’d helped pull one of the stretchers off an emergency vehicle.

How elated she’d felt to see the girl’s tears dry and a small smile emerge. The ultimate rewards weren’t always big successes, but sometimes the quiet, small victories.

She turned beneath the water and held out the length of her hair. Shampoo streamed to the drain and swirled, rising in bubbles before disappearing. Washcloth in hand, she rubbed a bar of brown soap then slid the cleanser over her body, the stringent smell stinging her nose. Despite the devastation caused by the storm, or perhaps because of it, Cassie had most often witnessed love today. Dedicated spouses, partners and family members, waiting for hours outside the station, patiently holding vigil until their loved one was out of danger.

Love...

She’d never been in love before. Commuting to her local college, then moving into the apartment above her parents’ garage, meant she hadn’t gotten out much. Dated. Definitely no mind-blowing one-night stands like last night.

Heat flared at the juncture of her thighs as she skimmed the wash cloth there, her flesh deliciously sore after the long, passionate night.

If Mark was anyone else, she would have said it was the greatest sex of her life. When was the last time she’d felt so giddy and uninhibited? So powerful?

Only it’d been a lie. A cruel cosmic joke that made her want to scream, not laugh. Mark was her enemy.

Yet, based on Raeanne’s story, she wondered.

Did Jeff haunt Mark, too?

An alarm sounded as she finished rinsing. Warned that such a signal heralded increased wind and dangerous conditions, she yanked the T-shirt over her slick body, pulled on the shorts and dashed outside.

Straight into a wall of muscle.

“Oh. Excuse me,” she muttered, her apology withering on her lips as she glanced up. Mark.

Her pulse quickened under his intent stare, shock rooting her feet to the ground. The gaining wind whipped her wet hair around her face.

His gaze traveled down her body, from the collar of her wet shirt to the hem of Nurse Little’s shorts, which, thanks to Cassie’s longer frame, barely covered her ass. His predatory eyes narrowed.

Before she could whirl away, she caught sight of her duffel, dangling from his hand.

“That’s mine.”

He cleared his throat. “I was dropping it at the aid station. Didn’t think you’d still be working.”

Oh. So he’d hoped to avoid her? Anger sizzled through her, despite her own strategy to evade him.

Well. Too bad, flyboy.

“And why’s that?” she demanded, grabbing the bag from him. At the brush of his fingers against hers, hungry need growled low in her gut and she shoved it down. Focused on her anger. Outrage. “You didn’t think I’d last?”

Before he could answer, something whizzed by her ear and he grabbed her, lightning fast, and pulled them to the ground. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as he crouched over her protectively, his smell familiar and sexy as hell.

She shoved him away. “I don’t need your help,” she muttered then stopped. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of a piece of sheet metal buried in the shower wall where she’d stood seconds ago.

The words thank you could never come out of her mouth when it came to Mark...yet he’d just saved her. Conflicting emotions churned in her stomach like the lousy coffee she’d drunk all day—gratitude, fury and desire.

God help her.

“I’m getting you back to your quarters,” he said in a tone she’d bet was usually obeyed. He shrugged out of his uniform jacket, draped it around her shoulders and hustled her toward the nearby women’s quarters.

* * *

OF ALL THE people to run into after his long day. Cassie Rowe.

The last person he wanted to see.

Mark had struggled to compartmentalize as he’d worked to rescue survivors. Flying through bands of the storm, he’d sweated ten gallons trying to wrestle the Jayhawk through the remnants of the hurricane weather, pulling people out of tossing waves. That used to all be in a day’s work. Now? He battled demons harder than the buffeting winds, Jeff’s specter riding shotgun beside him, a dark copilot and a reminder of the biggest screwup of Mark’s career.

He needed some R & R to decompress. Get his shit together. He was flight ready, damn it. Could more than handle this disaster response.

As for Cassie?

He had to get his feelings for her under control, too. His plan to leave her bag with the Red Cross’s chief nurse would have helped. Out of sight, out of mind.

Then, holy hell.

When she’d dashed out of the showers, a flimsy T-shirt molded to her voluptuous breasts, short shorts revealing the sweet curve of her ass, all the blood in his brain had gone south. In an instant, he’d forgotten all the reasons he was staying away from her, his hands itching to touch her smooth skin long before his sense kicked in.

He took a deep breath and tried to banish the image of a nearly naked Cassie from his mind. The oversize jacket that hung to her knees should have helped...but he kept picturing her gorgeous body on the beach last night. The feel of her soft flesh, yielding to him. Demanding, too.

He quickened his pace.

“Hey!” she protested, flipping back her damp hair. All around them, the air moved like a wild thing, dark and dangerous, reminding him of everything he’d battled at the controls today over the Atlantic. How close he’d come to losing the bubble.

He needed her out of here. She drew his attention like a fireworks display. One about to detonate in his face.

“Slow down or let go,” she warned him, edging out of his grip.

Which was just as well. He had no business putting his hands on her.

“You didn’t have a problem keeping up last night.” Where had that come from? He sounded like a horny teenager. Or an arrogant asshole.

She huffed beside him as a downed palm tree frond caught against the coat and she yanked a piece of stray foliage loose, her shape barely discernable now in the moonless night. “Really?”

He slowed his gait, guiding them carefully over the branches. “That’s my recollection.”

“I’d rather forget. I wish it’d never happened.”

Her bitter tone left little doubt that she meant every word.

So why wasn’t he glad about that?

“If I’d known...” he began.

A bitter laugh escaped her. “Then what? You would have avoided me. Stayed away like you did at Jeff’s memorial?”

“An emergency came up.”

“You could have visited his stone anytime.”

Guilt ripped through him. Yes. He’d thought of that. Was planning to go, actually, after this mission. After he’d figured out what the hell to say to Jeff’s family. But now Cassie was here, her presence more intimate than he could ever have prepared for, catching him flat-footed.

He breathed in the bracing, briny air. “Look, I can’t take back what happened last night.”

“That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t take back any of it. So what’s the point? I’ve got my bag so you can go now. I’ll find my way alone.” She wrapped the coat tighter around herself. Was she still oblivious to the flying debris, or just that stubborn?

“Where’s your room?” he challenged as he ducked beneath a tree, and pulled her with him when the air suddenly swooshed by carrying stinging pebbles.

Her eyes darted around him. “I’m number ten.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And where is that?”

She flung an arm east. “There?” She pivoted and peered into the night. “Or did Raeanne say to the left of the showers...?”

Overhead, a Jayhawk whirred, going out to sea. Out to face the nightmare winds that he’d just waged war with for hours.

He nodded firmly. Felt his back teeth clench. “Right. Let’s go.” The USCG and Red Cross had commandeered a resort that had suffered limited damage for their operations. He’d passed the side they’d designated as women’s quarters on his way here—a string of bungalows deemed safe by the engineering crew.

“Just tell me where...”

Despite the gloom, her blond hair gleamed, her fresh-scrubbed face making her look young. Vulnerable. Why the hell had she come here? Anger seared his insides. She should be home safe with her family. Not in a place still full of danger. Where she could get hurt, like Jeff. Where she added to the crap factor of his first mission back.