Morgan's Wife (18 page)

Pepper started the car and drove slowly down the street. Why had Jim left her alone in the living room so long? She grimaced. Even if it had been something she'd said or done, he hadn't needed to disappear like that. He was a mature adult. He at least could have stayed and made small talk. The Marine Corps drilled officers on small talk for social occasions, Pepper knew, but Jim hadn't been willing to do even that much. Frowning, she made a turn that would take her to her nearby hotel.

Why had he turned so gruff? He'd been accessible,
then
ten minutes later, he'd been closed off. Perhaps, she
ruminated,
he had got in touch with the fact that he still loved Laura
Trayhern
. Bothered, Pepper wondered how or if that knowledge would affect his performance on the mission. It had to affect him. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, he was human, and
dammit
, he had feelings.

Angered, Pepper drove to the hotel and went directly to her room. After a long, hot shower, she slipped into her cozy flannel nightgown, which fell to her ankles. Going to bed was the easy part. Going to sleep was another story. Her mind swung from the manuals to the HAHO, to Jim and John. Every time her heart touched on Jim, she became a mass of vibrant feelings. Frustrated, Pepper got up and started to read another manual to distract
herself
from the thought of Jim Woodward, but even that didn't work. Finally, she started pacing her hotel room.

Jim still loved Laura; Pepper was sure of it. Desperately, despite her roiling response to the idea, she wanted it to be true. She couldn't dare risk true love again, so it was just as well that Jim was otherwise involved. As the clock ticked toward one a.m., she tiredly rubbed her smarting eyes. She should have tried to sleep, not think. Her mind was spinning with data to remember—radio codes,
satcom
codes, what to do if they got separated. What to do if she was captured. That last thought scared the hell out of her. Pepper didn't want to die. At the last moment, she wrote a letter to her parents—just in case. Then she wrote a letter to Jim, too. She tucked both of them away in her purse, which she would be leaving behind at
Perseus
, along with the rest of her luggage. If she died, her personal effects would be gone through and the letters delivered.

The seriousness of the mission impinged upon her more than ever as she slowly pulled off her nightgown and began to dress in striped utilities that the Marine Corps had provided. She could die tonight—in a variety of ways. Even so, Pepper found herself repulsed at having to carry weapons. She didn't want to kill anyone. It simply wasn't in her. And she might have to. She pulled on thick, dark green socks as she explored her feelings. Even as a child, she hadn't wanted to shoot deer or catch trout with sharp hooks. Some of her passion for smoke jumping came from her role in stopping the destructive fires that inevitably killed the wildlife in their paths.

Pepper knew she'd be hard-pressed to squeeze a trigger to kill someone. She didn't doubt Jim would do it—probably because his survival instincts were more sharply honed. But despite her hitch in the army and getting through Ranger school, she was less than sure about her ability to take a life—even in her own defense. Pepper shook her head. Why was she taking this mission? Wolf had told her about Laura and Morgan. She liked Wolf and knew he was a man of honor. If he wanted her help, she didn't question it. Wolf was like part of her extended family, and if he needed her, she'd be there.

Pepper decided that her morals and values were terribly confused. On one hand, she'd dive into life-threatening danger at the blink of an eye, yet she was loath to pull a trigger to kill another person—even one intent on killing her. Go figure. Well, it was too late to change her mind, although these weren't really second thoughts. Her heart centered on Jim, and Pepper knew unequivocally that she was a balance to him and the skills he brought to the mission. He wasn't a killer, either, but he would kill in self-defense—although she believed that if he had to, he'd regret it.

As she pulled her thick, shoulder-length hair up and back into a ponytail, Pepper looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. What a contrast, she thought. Her big, blue eyes didn't seem suited to the military uniform she wore. She looked vulnerable, not tough and soldierly. Maybe that was what Jim was concerned about.

Sighing, she realized that she had no answers to the various dilemmas she faced. A part of her liked Jim and was glad to be there for him on this mission. Another part was willing to do what was necessary to rescue Laura
Trayhern
. And part of her didn't want to go at all—because of Jim, who stirred the coals of life brightly within her. Somehow the danger he presented to her very soul seemed to outweigh the many external threats.

By the time Pepper arrived at Andrews Air Force Base, she was a mass of nerves. Wolf drove her there, his face set and hard. He said little on the way, and as Pepper stepped out of the vehicle and toward a small office inside a hangar, the tension was electric. There, squinting in the bright lights, an Air Force team met her and began helping her into her parachuting gear. Pepper felt as if she were in a surreal movie. Where was Jim? Four people worked with her, saying little, the strain obvious in all of their faces. In half an hour, she and Jim would board the C-130 that would take them across the Gulf of Mexico to the
Caribbean
for the drop.

Wolf remained nearby, and Pepper felt reassured by his presence. The pack she would carry on her back was loaded with ammunition and weapons. Pepper made sure that her knife was situated, as always, on the front of her harness, with easy access, though she hoped this time she wouldn't be cutting away shroud lines.

The door opened. Jim, already in his tiger utilities, appeared in the doorway. His face was grim, his eyes hard. Pepper swallowed convulsively, suddenly wondering if she really ought to go on this mission. She could die. Jim could die. The thoughts shook her, and as she held Jim's glittering gaze, Pepper
felt
his raw, boiling emotions. Though he hadn't said or done anything, she experienced his feelings as if they were her own. What was going on? Had she suddenly become psychic?

Pepper acknowledged that during critical fire situations, her intuitive abilities were nearly clairvoyant, probably because of the adrenaline, which automatically heightened everyone's senses. She watched Jim skirt her to talk in low tones to Wolf, who stood, arms crossed, listening intently.

Jim was ignoring her—again. She felt hurt as well as relief wind through her as she turned toward the two men. Her talk with Jim earlier tonight—their unexpected intimacy—had been wrong, she realized, as she followed the jump master out to a waiting vehicle that would take them to the C-130 warming up on the runway.

"Pepper?"
Wolf reached out, his hand wrapping around her arm to halt her forward progress.

They stood on the tarmac, the light from the hangar casting eerie shadows across the huge base. Pepper looked up into Wolf's face and saw the worry in his eyes. "I'll be fine, Wolf. Stop worrying." She gripped his hand.

"Just be careful," he growled. "Sarah won't forgive me if you don't come back."

She nodded somberly. "I know." Sarah was her best friend, and Pepper knew how much Wolf loved her. "I'll be back."

He reluctantly released her hand. "I'll be praying."

Pepper smiled weakly and waved goodbye to him and to the uniformed men and women standing around him. She found herself walking next to Jim, who seemed to appear out of the darkness. His profile was sharp. His eyes revealed nothing. Most of all, she saw the forbidding set of his mouth—a single line. Swallowing against a dry throat, Pepper climbed into the vehicle. The doors slammed and they lurched forward, gears grinding.

Darkness closed in around them, except for the dull glow of the dashboard lights. Pepper sat in the back seat, alone. She felt horribly deserted. If only Jim hadn't retreated so far inside himself. She knew that certain members of her team reacted like that before a jump. Still, she wished for some friendly sign from him, some humanity.

The C-130's engines were whining, the four turboprops spinning and invisible in the night. Jim and Pepper boarded through the rear ramp, and she hauled her gear on board, taking a seat next to the jump master, a grizzled-looking sergeant in his mid-forties. The load master, a woman sergeant, gave the signal, and the ramp began to come up, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the cargo plane's cavernous hull. Soon the inside of the aircraft was dark, the gloom broken only by a few small lights.

Jim had sat opposite Pepper, on the other side of the aircraft. He wouldn't look at her, she noticed. Instead, he fiddled with his pack, going through last-minute checks on various items. His movements were sure, brisk and economical. He knew what he was doing. He'd done this many times before—and she hadn't.

Squelching the urge to go over her own pack again, Pepper sat quietly. The C-130's engine whined at a much-higher pitch, and the aircraft began trundling awkwardly down the runway toward the takeoff point. The vibrations went through her, launching the faint smell of hot oil and metal. The human element was lacking in this mission, she realized. The weapons were cold steel. The plane was metal. Even the air crew with the C-130 seemed stoic and
robotlike
. At the moment only Pepper and her rising internal panic seemed frighteningly soft and human.

Her palms were wet, and she rubbed them against the fabric on her thighs. Her heart wouldn't settle down. Every time she thought of the coming HAHO, and all the possible problems, she broke out in a sweat. This time, if Jim's chute didn't open, she wouldn't see it. The darkness would mask the view of a partner plummeting to certain death. So many harrowing possibilities ran through Pepper's head. What she wanted, what she needed, was Jim's closeness. She tried to reassure herself that her need to be close to Jim and feel his touch was a normal desire she always had before a risky jump—a way to know she was connected to the rest of her team. Still, her stomach tightened, and an odd tingling at the base of her spine as she looked at his strong, reclining figure, scared her more than she wanted to admit. Maybe she should be thankful Jim had shut himself off from her, she thought suddenly, dashing fiercely at unexpected tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She was alone in this mission, as she ultimately was in life. She had her family and friends and that was enough—more than enough. She sat up a little straighter in her seat.

As the C-130 rumbled through the air toward
Nevis
, Pepper thought about her past. While the hours passed, she was able to review her entire life to date—the good experiences and the bad. All of them had been instructive in some way, and she was grateful to realize that. As she continued to sit on the vibrating seat, tired but wide awake, her hands in her lap, she was glad she'd left her parents that letter.

And Jim…She stole a glance through the gloom.
He was lying down, his back to her, curled up on some nylon seats across the aisle. Pepper admired the possibility that he might be able to sleep so close to a jump. She couldn't. She thought again of their dinner together and realized just how much she'd come to like him. That brief moment where he'd been human, warm, even tender with her, had shown her the real man beneath his harsh military facade. Her heart cried out at the injustice of it all. But he was in love with Laura. That's why he'd separated from her, kept his distance. His mind and heart were focused on Laura's rescue—not on what might be frightening Pepper, what her needs might be.

Pepper understood those things without bitterness. Surely she was old enough, wise enough, to allow people to be themselves. Although she might not agree with Jim's behavior, especially under the circumstances, she wasn't going to try to change it—or him. But didn't he realize she was scared, too? That she might need a brief touch on the shoulder, a slight smile or sign from him? Wolf had given her that before they'd left. But then, Wolf was different from Jim. He'd been through the fires of hell with Sarah, Pepper knew, and she had brought him out of his own closed world.

Feeling sad as never before, Pepper decided she would lie down, too. She stretched out on a row of uncomfortable nylon seats, her arm beneath her cheek, and closed her eyes. Exhaustion swept over her. Too much had happened too quickly. As much as her mind counseled against it, her heart ached with the pain of Jim's reproach. Her feelings toward him were good and true and strong—yet he pushed those genuine emotions away.
Because he loved Laura.

Pepper shifted, trying to shut out the overwhelming noise of a C-130 in flight, and to ignore the bone-jarring vibrations. She could die, and Jim would never know what lay in her heart. Tears matted her lashes, and she struggled to hold them back. Even as she fought her rampant emotions, she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.