Captive of Fate (7 page)

She sat on one of the logs that Matt had found for her and watched him. “And if it does?”

“That means I can get those choppers up, supplies moving, and most importantly, the injured down off this mountain.”

“Another sixteen-hour day for you?”

“Twenty-four to forty-eight will be more like it if the weather gods smile on us.”

Alanna smiled wistfully, cradling her chin in her palms. Shortly, the fire was popping and crackling, and she edged closer, beginning to warm up. Matt came over, placing his large, bulky jacket across her shoulders.

“This ought to help. Now, what do you feel like for breakfast?”

She thought about it for a moment, dizzied by his closeness. How easy it would have been to make a half-turn and walk back into his arms. As easy as lying beside him last night in the tent. Alanna pushed those pleasant thoughts aside. “I’m really not hungry, Matt….”

He frowned. “You’re going to eat anyway. We’ve got a hard day in front of us if this fog lifts.”

How could she eat? She was thinking of him, of her body’s aching need for him and his electrifying touch. It was impossible to think when he was so near!

“I can’t offer you eggs Benedict, but how about some scrambled eggs instead?”

“Y-yes, that would be fine.”

“Coffee?”

Her lips parted. “Are you serious?”

Matt grinned, a twinkle in his gray eyes. “Have I ever lied to you yet?”

“That’s one of your saving graces,” she muttered. “Honesty at every turn.”

He couldn’t resist a retort. “Something that our great senators and representatives know little of up on the Hill.”

“I suppose you include me in that generalization?” she asked, stung.

Matt rummaged through his pack, finding the necessary ingredients for their breakfast. “You couldn’t lie if you tried,” he returned equitably. “Your eyes give you away, you know.”

Alanna felt heat creeping back into her face. My God, was he reading what she felt toward him? Nervously, she buried her hands in the huge pockets of the jacket, pretending not to hear his comment.

Over breakfast, Matt continued his pleasant banter. Alanna marveled at his ability to make small talk under such circumstances: they were out in the middle of a Costa Rican jungle, where disease was rampant and people’s homes and very lives had been destroyed.

“So tell me, what is the apartment you live in like?” he asked, sipping the steaming coffee.

Alanna watched him warily. “Why would you want to know?”

Shrugging, he said, “Curiosity. To see if what I’ve imagined it’s like is close to reality.”

“You make a point of comparing furniture labels to the person?”

“Labels don’t mean a thing to me. Usually you can visualize what people are like by the way they decorate their homes or apartments.”

She moved uncomfortably on the log, not wanting him to ferret out any more information about her. “Why don’t you tell me about your apartment instead,” she challenged.

“Fair enough,” he agreed, the smile reaching his eyes. “Actually, I don’t rent an apartment. I live in McLean, Virginia, and own a house in a fairly wooded area.”

“A home?” she echoed. “I didn’t know Marines made enough money to buy houses over there in that posh section.”

“I saved a lot of my pay by being overseas for so long.”

“You don’t like apartments?”

“No. I don’t like being crowded in with other people.”

“Antisocial?”

Matt grinned. “In a way, I suppose. I was born in Maine, and you know what people say about natives of that state.”

“They mind their own business and maintain that cool New England veneer. You don’t seem very cool, though.”

He wrapped his strong, darkly brown fingers about the aluminum cup. “Only when I have to be. Being in the service forces you do become more of a social animal.”

“Do your parents still live in Maine?”

“They did up until their death. I still own a cabin up there on the river.”

Alanna took a sip of her coffee. “I’m sorry about your parents….”

He shrugged, losing some of his natural warmth. “It happened a long time ago.”

“I never thought you would own a home
and
a cabin. Even by Hill standards, you’re quite well off,” she commented.

“I do what I enjoy doing. How about you?”

She gave a slight shrug. “I earn a good living,” she evaded.

“That’s all?”

Her eyes darkened. “What else is there?”

Matt slowly rose, grinning. “Oh, a run in the morning with your dog when the grass still has dew on it, fishing on a bank getting warmed by the sun. Little things. Important things. Ever fished?”

She shook her head. “I’m a city girl through and through.”

“That’s a shame. Bet you’ve never been to Maine, have you?”

“Never.”

“See what six or so years of college will get you?” he teased.

Grimacing, she stood. “Don’t remind me. That and a relationship that made me feel like a prisoner.” She handed him the cup.

Their fingers touched, and Alanna drew hers away first. Matt stood there, watching her with interest.

“Well, that’s behind you now,” he returned.

“Not quite in the past tense,” she said unhappily. “As you can see, I’m still acting out of a lot of ingrained habits formed during those years.”

“Oh, logic versus feelings.”

“Yes.”

“Well, in three days you’ve certainly made strides toward freeing up your emotions,” he noted wryly.

Alanna grinned up at him. “You’re enough to try anybody’s logic.”

He smiled fully. “I happen to like you this way. And if I’ve had a hand in unleashing the real Alanna, I’ll take my due applause.”

She moved away from his overpowering presence, sitting back down on the log. He washed the cups and plates, neatly repacking them. “Can I help you in some way?” she offered.

“No, just sit there looking beautiful while I break down the tent.”

She blushed. Beautiful? Here in the mud, needing a bath, with her hair in two long braids? She watched him, curiosity overcoming her wariness. “Do you own a dog, Matt?”

He nodded. “Actually it’s the other way around. Megan thinks she owns me.”

“Megan, that’s a lovely name. What is she?”

He looked up. “One of the biggest Irish wolfhounds you’ll ever see.”

She gave him a stricken look. “I’ve never seen one.”

“They’re somewhat rare.”

“Like you,” she added.

“Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment. When I’m home, I get up at six every morning and jog five miles with Megan before going in to work. She’s one of the reasons I chose to buy a house with some acreage. You just can’t pen a big dog like that up and expect it to be happy.”

Alanna pulled up her legs, sliding her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees. He was so easy to listen to. She closed her eyes, content.

“You have to understand wolfhounds,” he went on. “They think they’re people and demand a large share of your attention when they can get it. Megan acts as my alarm clock and promptly leaps on the bed at six every morning.”

Alanna suppressed her laughter, envisioning the episode. “Somehow,” she said drolly, “I can’t see you taking orders from anyone.”

Matt pulled out the stakes the held the tent. “Under certain circumstances, I’m very docile and trainable.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“You’ll see.”

Alanna’s eyes flew open. “What?”

He straightened up. “I told you that after this mess is over down here I intend to see you on less businesslike terms.”

Her heart beat wildly for a few seconds as she stared up at him. He seemed such a natural part of the jungle at that moment. A man completely in tune with nature. A frown formed on her brow.

“Aren’t you worried that I might uncover some nasty facts in this investigation?”

“No. I told you before, I’m innocent, and so are my men.”

“You could be wrong,” she said stubbornly.

He turned, resting one hand loosely on his hip as he stared across the distance between them. “You ought to know by now, Alanna, I don’t lie. I’ve made my share of mistakes as a human being, but I don’t actively go out to harm someone else.”

In her mind she heard the senator’s voice insisting that it was Matt Breckenridge’s mistake that cost his only son his life in Vietnam. She inhaled deeply, genuinely confused. “Mistakes can get you into just as much trouble as a lie can,” she whispered tautly, unable to maintain his even stare.

“Do you always form judgments based upon hearsay?”

“I didn’t ask for this assignment, dammit!” she flared, leaping to her feet. She remained tense, fists clenched at her sides. “I didn’t know a thing about you until I went to work for him, but then I heard plenty. I’ll admit I came down here prejudiced against you. But now I just want to know the truth. Hate eats up a person, and the senator hates you. Right or wrong, he’s after you.”

Matt knelt over the tent halves, folding them precisely. “One of these days,” he began softly, “I may tell you the truth of what happened out there.”

She gave him a bewildered look. “If he is wrong, Matt, then why don’t you just prove it to him? I don’t understand!”

He finished the packing and rose, looking distant and withdrawn. “Looks like the fog is finally going to dissipate. Once the sun rises, we ought to be in good shape.” He looked over at her, his face unreadable once again. “Come on, let’s get you situated at the main loading area. I want to meet with Captain Jackson and get those choppers warmed up.”

Frustrated by his sudden change of mood, Alanna walked awkwardly toward the village with him. Twice within half an hour she had seen him withdraw into a shell. Once when she mentioned his parents and the other time over the incident in Vietnam. Stumbling, she nearly fell into a large rut. Matt’s hand shot out, quickly catching her. Alanna rested momentarily within his arms, and she looked up to see him smiling faintly, the warmth returning to his veiled gray eyes.

“Want to learn how to fish someday soon?” he asked, retaining his hold on her.

Her eyes widened. “Fish?” she echoed, maddeningly aware of his body and his fingers against her flesh.

“Sure. It will be a beautiful time of the year up at the cabin. The leaves will be turning, and the flounder will be biting. How about it?”

“I—”

“Remember, use your gut instincts, not logic,” he chided, his smile increasing.

Alanna trembled inwardly. Every time he dropped that cool facade, she melted like snow on a warm March day. “Oh—all right, I’ll think about it,” she muttered, pulling free of his hold.

His laughter was rich and free, and she found herself turning and fighting back a smile. “What’s so funny?”

Trying to suppress his grin he said, “You look like a duck with big, black feet. I wish I had a camera.”

“I’m glad you don’t!”

His parting comment at the supply tent was, “I think Megan will like you a lot.” She had turned to ask him what that remark meant, but he had disappeared. Alanna struggled to contain the joyous feelings that he inevitably brought to life in her and returned to the work at hand.

T
he sun rapidly burned off the fog, leaving blue sky above the suffering village of San Dolega. Alanna was amazed at the pace of activity as the helicopters buzzed up and down the mountain like angry hornets. The temperature rose quickly, and the humidity dropped to a tolerable degree. Volunteer police and villagers were constantly stowing more and more supplies at the main staging area. Alanna sidestepped their bustling activity and calmly checked each set of numbers against her own copies.

By late afternoon, she was beginning to doubt the possibility that precious medical supplies were being stolen. In a corner of her mind, she felt Matt would never be involved in something like that. There was a ribbon of integrity that ran through him like a vein of gold in quartz. She was kneeling down in front of a new load of crates when someone came up behind her. Hoping it was Matt, she felt her heart beat slightly faster in anticipation. Alanna turned.

An unknown Marine in flight uniform smiled down at her. “Miss McIntire? I’m Major Jim Cauley, one of the chopper pilots. Matt sent me up here to find you. He said to drag you down off the mountain so he can feed you. How about it?”

Alanna slowly got to her feet, returning the carefree smile of the pilot. Judging from his sparkling blue eyes, square jaw and lean body, he was the type to hunt up trouble if it didn’t find him first. She smiled, putting the last of the papers into her muddied briefcase.

“I don’t think you’ll have to drag me, Major Cauley. I’m starved.”

Jim nodded, motioning her to follow him. “He said I could go as far as hog-tying you if necessary.”

She was grateful that he slowed his pace for her as they entered the bright, sunlit area from beneath the tent. “He did?”

“Yeah. Said you had a real hair-trigger temper.” He glanced down at her. “Red hair and green eyes. I’ll bet you give everybody hell when you’re mad.”

“I rarely get angry, Major.”

“Call me Jim. Don’t worry about it. Matt tends to overexaggerate on occasion.”

“If I remember correctly, you two go back quite a ways together?”

“Yeah, we got into a lot of hot water together.”

“It’s nice to have friends like that,” she commented.

“Matt is that kind of person, you know? I always said I’d go to hell and back for him, and damned if he didn’t ask me to do just that.”

Alanna laughed with the pilot. They approached the dull green chopper, and Jim opened the door, helping her into the copilot’s seat. “Be sure to strap in,” he ordered.

She watched his economical movements as he guided the helicopter away from the landing area. He glanced over at her, motioning for her to put the headset on. Alanna fumbled with it, finally fitting it over the top of her head. Cauley winked at her.

“That’s better,” he said. “Never did like to try to outshout a chopper engine. Good way to get hoarse.”

She nodded. “I’m sure it is.”

“Hey, on the serious side, Miss McIntire—”

“Call me Alanna, please,” she interrupted.

“Pretty name.” He hesitated and then continued. “Is it true? Are you here to investigate Matt?”

She squirmed inwardly, aware of the worry in the pilot’s expression. “I’m afraid so, Jim.”

“Did Thornton put you up to it?”

“I get paid by the senator, if that’s what you mean,” she answered coolly.

“Then you’ve got to know that Thornton would like to see Matt’s name and career smeared. Right?”

“I think that’s a bit overstated,” she said, hedging.

Cauley’s features darkened. “Look, Alanna, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Can’t you see Matt wouldn’t steal supplies? God, he puts in forty-eight hours at a crack making sure this whole relief plan works properly. He’s a damn fine career officer, and he’s got more decorations than nearly any man that came out of Nam. I don’t see how you could do this to him.”

She colored under his misguided attack. She was sure Matt had not put his friend up to this. He would handle his own problems personally. Cauley struck her as a man who was loyal beyond the point of reason. “Jim…I’m sure you mean well by all of this. I don’t have a choice in this matter. It’s part of my job to investigate. I didn’t come down here prejudiced against Matt. Well,…maybe just a little,” she added. “But that’s all changed,” she added hastily. “I see him as someone who has a great deal of integrity and a strong sense of responsibility. I’m not out to smear his name for the senator, believe me.”

Cauley pursed his lips, glancing at her for a few seconds before returning his attention to the helicopter. “You aren’t some undercover agent from the Defense Department?”

“What?”

“This isn’t the first time Thornton has tried to undermine Matt, you know. He’s sent men from two government agencies at different times since Matt’s return from Nam to try to slander his name. I figured this time Thornton was getting smart by hiring a damn good-looking dame to do the job.”

She sat there dumbfounded. “Of all the—”

“Maybe Thornton finally figured out that a woman would be able to take Matt in easier than a man. I don’t know. Let’s keep this straight—as long as you’re nosing around, I’m going to be watching you, too.”

Perspiration broke out on the palms of her tightly clenched hands. “I’m not some femme fatale out to frame Matt!” she shot back, anger evident in her tone.

Cauley brought the chopper into a wide banking turn, the verdant green of the jungle thousands of feet below them. “I felt Thornton would jump on this sooner or later,” he muttered. “Don’t tell me you weren’t aware that Matt lost his wife and baby as well as his parents in a car crash?”

Alanna inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. “Oh—no…”

Cauley’s blue eyes narrowed. “That’s right, all four of ‘em were killed in a head-on crash up in Maine.” His mouth thinned, and he watched her intently, trying to plumb the depth of her horrified reaction. “Matt was out on Recon patrol and didn’t know of their deaths until a week after the crash. Can you imagine what he went through? They were already dead and buried by the time he set foot back on friendly soil. And to make matters worse, he and his team got ordered back into the bush for an extended patrol that lasted damn near a month when he got back from the States.” He stopped, gauging her reactions. “Most men would have cracked up, but Matt didn’t. He was responsible for six other Recons, and he carried off that mission. No one but a few people up in the Pentagon knew how important that one mission was. I can’t even talk about it because it’s still top secret.”

She swallowed hard, her throat dry and constricted. My God, he had lost his entire family…. Anguish slashed across her heart. And Alanna thought she had suffered emotional pain. How had he coped with such agony so successfully? It made her feel terribly small, her own problems insignificant in retrospect. Tears swam in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Jim, I would never intentionally hurt Matt. Please, believe me. I didn’t know about his family. My God…”

“I hope for your sake you’re exactly what you claim to be,” he said grimly, easing the chopper down toward the landing area near the base camp. “Matt swears you’re innocent. But after those two other attacks on him, I’m not so easily convinced.”

She didn’t know what to make of the picture Cauley was painting. But she felt dirty and less than honorable for undertaking the task that Thornton had assigned to her. “I’m not out to damage Matt’s career,” she repeated stubbornly.

Cauley’s blue eyes seemed to bore right through her. “He likes you, you know?”

Alanna looked up, startled. “What?”

“I said Matt likes you. Maybe a little too much.” He set the chopper down, shutting off the engine and watching the rotor blades slowing to a halt. “I wish like hell he’d fallen for anyone but you. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Alanna. Maybe you are innocent. Judging by your outward appearance, I’d say you look vulnerable as hell. But women can look that way and kill. When this is all over, I may end up owing you an apology. But for right now, I’m going to be shadowing your every footstep where Matt is concerned. We’ve saved each other’s lives too often. Now it’s my turn to protect him against you. He’s gone through so much hell that I just don’t want him to go through any more unhappiness because of that bastard Thornton.”

She sat perfectly still for a long time, hands clasped in her lap. “I never realized all of this,” she confessed quietly. “I can’t even be angry that you’re defending him. I wish I had friends of your caliber who would come to my aid when I was in trouble.”

Cauley managed a smile, unstrapping the safety harness and pulling the white helmet off his head. He placed it on the seat, studying her. “Matt has earned friends like myself. Friendship like ours is a rarity in this world nowadays, and I think you know that. If that impresses you a little, then maybe you’ll quit trying to frame him in this investigation.” He sighed heavily, slouching back against the seat, “You’re bright and beautiful, and you have that volatile temperament he’s always been drawn to. Rachel was like you in some ways….” He shook his head, opening the door. “Come on, I talk too much. I’ll walk you over to the chow hall.”

*

Having lost her appetite, Alanna sat morosely beneath the tin-roofed shack that served as a makeshift chow hall. Cauley had grabbed a couple of sandwiches and stuffed them into his pockets, walking back to his chopper. Within minutes, he was airborne, heading back toward San Dolega.

Alanna pushed the rice around on the paper plate, oblivious to the chatter of Spanish and the men coming in to eat. Ignoring the Costa Ricans’ curious stares, she trained her eyes on the table.

Now she knew why Matt had grown suddenly serious when he mentioned his parents earlier that morning. She tried to imagine what it would be like to lose four people whom she loved intensely all at once. Finding it impossible, she dejectedly placed her plastic fork down by the plate. Funny, she mused, that we’ve both lost our parents in car accidents. Had their lives paralleled one another at other points? She doubted that. How would she feel if Paul had suddenly been ripped out of her life? She found it was hard to imagine that too. From its outset their love had been fault-ridden, like a rock with fissures beneath the surface. Alanna was sure that Matt had loved his wife and child with a fierceness rarely matched in other men.

She herself had felt that same concern in him on a number of occasions. It was as if he held himself in tight check so as not to smother her with that fierce protectiveness. He managed a nice balance between the two extremes; caring enough to allow her room to make mistakes. But if she did make them, he would be there to support her afterward. The more she stayed around him, the more impressed by his wisdom she became. Perhaps it was a wisdom forged out of suffering and pain. That sort of insight carried a heavy price.

“Don’t tell me you’re not hungry?” Matt demanded, sliding in across from her and putting down his heavily laden tray.

Alanna jerked her head up, startled and suddenly speechless. he smiled warmly, taking off his cap and stuffing it into his back pocket.

“Or did Cauley scare the hell out of you with a wild ride down the mountainside?”

She swallowed hard, frantically trying to gather her wits. “No—I—”

Matt stopped eating momentarily, a frown forming on his forehead. “Are you all right?”

“I—I guess it’s just the change in weather.” She offered a weak smile of apology. “D.C. weather isn’t like this, you know. Maybe I’m just a little tired.”

He seemed satisfied with her stammered answers and returned to eating. Alanna toyed with the aluminum cup containing the strong, thick coffee. Her gloomy spirits were lifting, and she enjoyed watching him as he ate. A soft smile played on her lips; he reminded her of a precocious ten-year-old boy gobbling down a hurried meal in order to rush off to Little League practice.

“You must be awfully busy to be gulping food down at that rate. Don’t you know that’s bad for your digestion?”

“Second nature,” he explained between bites. “In the service you learn to inhale food like air.”

“If you don’t have stomach ulcers after eighteen years, you won’t get them now,” she agreed.

“As some rich millionaire once said, I don’t get ulcers, I give them.”

She managed a laugh. “I doubt that! Not with your insight into people and their problems. I can’t see you yelling at someone unless it was a last resort.”

Matt grinned. “Guess I’ve come up against a lot of last resorts, then.”

Alanna laughed with him, momentarily freed from all her anxiety and confusion. “Do you always keep your sense of humor?” she asked.

“I’ve been very close to losing it in the last two days.”

“Because of me.”

“No, the weather situation.” His gray eyes twinkled. “You have been a slight pain, but not much of one. Getting to see your pretty face every once in a while is all I need. In a way, I’m glad Thornton sent you down here. How else could we have met?”

She felt her cheeks grow warm and avoided his gaze. She envied his honesty. “I can still turn out to be a pain,” she reminded him tartly. “The investigation isn’t over yet.”

He set the coffee cup on the table, leaning forward on his elbows. “By the way, how’s it going? Any numbers not jibing with one another?”

“No. It’s perfect so far.”

Matt nodded. “Good.”

“I’m glad, too,” she confided.

“If you’re going to wire your senator of your progress, I’d suggest you do it soon. I’ve got my ace radioman down here now, and he’s going to be busy tinkering with some channels late this afternoon.”

Alanna nodded, slowly getting to her feet. “Thanks for the tip. Right now, I think I’ll waddle over to your sumptuous suite and change into some of my own clothes.”

Matt rose and escorted her out of the mess hall. “You mean you don’t like wearing Marine utilities? Afraid that a little gung-ho attitude is going to rub off and tarnish your dove image?” he teased.

She smiled, loving his closeness. She enjoyed watching his loose, fluid walk and the grace of his well-muscled body. “If Senator Thornton ever finds out I spent a night in the same tent with you and wore your clothes, I’ll probably get handed my head the moment I step off the plane,” she laughed.