Ride The Tiger

Ride The Tiger Lindsay McKenna Moments Of Glory Book #1

Silhouette Special Edition #721 January 1, 1992 ISBN: 0373097212

Chapter One Da Nang, Vietnam April 15, 1965 "Maman, must you go to the military base at Da Nang?" Dany Villard spoke to her mother in French, trying to keep the concern out of her voice as slender Amy Lou Villard glided elegantly toward the dated blue Renault parked in front of their plantation home. Really, at twenty-six she shouldn't have to worry about her mother, Dany thought. But sometimes it felt like Amy Lou was the daughter and Dany the mother. Dressed in a summery silk dress, Dany's mother was every bit the plantation mistress, airily waving her hand as if to dismiss Dany's concern. A wide-brimmed white straw hat shaded Amy Lou's delicate skin from the burning sun overhead. "Ma cherie, one does not turn down a luncheon invitation with a Marine general, does one?" Standing tensely on the wooden steps of the porch, her fingers digging into the carved rail, Dany frowned. In a fierce whisper that she wanted no one-not even their loyal Vietnamese help-to overhear, Dany said, "But what about Binh Duc?" Dany knew that if the local Vietcong chieftain even suspected the Villards were consorting with the Americans, their rubber plantation would no longer be safe. "Maman, think!" she pleaded. "Please! Don't expose our neutrality like this." Whirling on the high heel of one pink sandal, Amy Lou laughed as she opened the car door. "As usual, Dany, you worry too much and you think too much. Binh Duc has promised to allow us to remain neutral." She wrinkled her small, fine nose. "I'm sure the American Marines at Da Nang would like us to take sides in this ridiculous situation, but we're French, and we're not at war with the VC, or anyone else." Dany stepped off the stairs. Probably her mother was right, she told herself. Still, her heart pounded with a strange feeling of dread. Compared to her mother, who was dressed in the latest French fashion, a gossamer creation in a print of pink, red and white peonies, a three-strand choker of pearls around her neck, Dany felt plain. Well, wasn't she? She glanced down self-consciously at the long-sleeved blue cotton blouse that hung to her thighs, the simple pair of dark cotton slacks and her bare feet, stained by the red earth. Yes, she was a colorless bird next to her beautifully attired mother. "But, Maman, Binh Duc warned you about the Americans coming here!" A Marine general had shown avid interest in her mother, whom he'd met a few months ago at a charity luncheon at a newly erected Da Nang French restaurant. The general had sent his official staff car to pick up her mother soon after, and Binh Duc had snuck into their home the next day, threatening her mother that

if he ever saw another American on Villard property, he would have to reconsider their neutral status. Dany distrusted the VC leader, whose political fervency was fanaticism in her opinion. She could accept his determination to practice Communism, but Dany couldn't tolerate his cruelty in forcing his belief on others. "That's why I'm driving our car to Da Nang, ma cherie." The new military base was located next to the Vietnamese city. "I told the general no more staff cars or men in uniform coming to our plantation." Amy Lou's smile didn't reach her carefully made-up blue eyes. Patting her pale blond hair, she said, "Stop fretting, Dany! You always act as if Duc knows our every move." "He does," Dany warned grimly. Long ago, the revolutionary Vietminh commander had given his word to her father that he would leave the Villard plantation alone. Binh Duc was the most recent in a series of commanders who had accepted the long-standing agreement. However, Duc was becoming more skittish and demanding every month. The truce with him was fragile, and Dany didn't count on it, even if her unrealistic mother did. The Villards had a similar pact with the South Vietnamese Army-the ARVN-and the plantation was one of the few neutral zones that all sides had respected. Dany chafed daily under the knowledge that if either side broke its word, the Villard plantation, which had been in the family since the early 1930s, would quickly be destroyed-a fate that already had befallen so many other French plantations since the battle at Dien Bien Phu. Placing her purse in the car, Amy Lou called out, "Au revoir, Dany. I've been so bored for so long. This is a wonderful opportunity for me to get out and enjoy myself." She pouted playfully. "Now, you will not hold that against me, will you, ma doux?" Dany's throat tightened with complicated emotions. Then she sighed in helpless resignation. "No, Maman." Her mother was a butterfly, Dany had decided long ago, and she, the dutiful, hard-working water buffalo, possessing neither her mother's lilt, glitter and gift for small talk, nor her love of parties and social status. Dany looked down at her hands as Amy Lou slipped into the Renault. They were long and slender like her mother's, but there the similarity ended. Amy Lou had her hands massaged daily and anointed with expensive creams by her personal maid, getting her long nails polished bright red. My hands are red, all right, Dany thought ruefully, slowly turning them over. Her nails were blunt cut, with dirt beneath them from working among the rubber trees. Although she scrubbed her hands and nails nightly, Dany could swear they retained a faint red stain, as if her skin were permanently marked by the soil she loved so fiercely. Dany didn't see it as bad, but rather as a badge proclaiming her oneness with the land. "Do not worry about me," Amy Lou called lightly as she put the little car in gear. "I will share the gossip I hear at lunch with you when I return later this afternoon." She blew Dany a kiss with her gloved hand. The sudden urge to run over to the car and give her mother a genuine kiss startled Dany. There had never been real warmth between them, although Dany had sometimes ached for it. Butterflies like her pampered mother were airy and light, never landing anyplace long enough to learn about deeper, more serious commitments. Dany took two steps forward, then checked herself. If she did run over and kiss her mother's cheek, Amy Lou no doubt would playfully chide her for making a childish demonstration, and would not return the kiss. Much better to quell her own emotional needs and avoid embarrassment, Dany thought.

Licking her lower lip, she raised her hand. "Bye, Maman. Have a good time." "Oh, I will! I will!" Dany felt oddly emotional-shaky without knowing why. The Renault started down the quarter-mile-long driveway. Built from imported red brick, the driveway wound toward Highway 14, a main thoroughfare to Da Nang. Tall, lovely silk trees paralleled the road, adding to the rich veneer the Villard plantation presented to those passing by the highway. But lately, the only vehicles to pass had been long convoys of American Marines in trucks, an almost constant occurrence. The Renault coughed noisily as it chugged toward the dirt highway, and bluish smoke popped several times from the exhaust pipe. The midmorning sun lanced through the canopy of trees near the front steps, and Dany felt perspiration begin to dot her face. High temperatures and equally high humidity were a fact of life in Vietnam. But, born at the plantation, Dany had never been bothered by the weather as her parents had. Dany frowned as she saw another American military convoy making its way past their driveway on its way to Da Nang, ten miles to the north. Dany was terrified that if any American vehicle came into their long driveway, for whatever reason, Binh Duc would retaliate-violently. When the Americans had landed on Da Nang's soil in March the Villards had made it known that the plantation was off-limits to any and all military personnel. Thus far, the brash Americans had respected the Villards neutrality and land. The Renault had almost reached the intersection to Highway 14, still sputtering and spitting a bluish trail of exhaust. Dany smiled. Her mother knew nothing of mechanics and would drive the Renault until it stopped dead on the spot. Amy Lou would die of embarrassment if her car stopped somewhere other than where she wanted it to. Rubbing her brow, Dany decided she'd better have the car looked at when her mother returned. One of their Vietnamese workers, who was something of a genius with inventions, also served as makeshift mechanic, although he never did well on the Renault. Just as Dany began to turn toward the house, a huge fireball enveloped the Renault. As if part of a movie stunt, the small car lifted upward through the fireball, flew apart and landed in pieces alongside the brick drive. "Maman!" Dany barely had time to scream before the pulverizing sound concussion slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. Another cry tore from Dany as she hit the brick driveway. Skin was torn from her elbow and hand, but she barely felt it. No! her mind caterwauled. In a daze, she lurched to her feet, the heat momentarily stinging her skin, the smell carried on the blast a combination of oil, metal and another odor her mind instantly rejected. A sob tore from Dany and she began running toward the flames. As she sprinted down the driveway, a second blast erupted from the already charred wreck with a force of heat that scorched Dany's skin. This time the sickening odor was undeniable, and her stomach lurched. Choking back the bitter taste of bile in her mouth, Dany threw her hand up to protect her face and eyes as she continued to run headlong. Her mother! Denial surged through Dany along with nausea at the terrible smell of burned human flesh. Dany raced on, her mouth open in a soundless shriek, her eyes blurred with tears. "Good God!" Major Gib Ramsey breathed as the blue Renault exploded into a fireball less than a quarter mile away. His hand flew to the jeep's dashboard to steady himself as Captain Pete Mallory slammed on the brakes. As the jeep skidded to a stop, Gib leaped out and began running toward the car, already

engulfed in flames. The French car must have hit a land mine-or someone had put a bomb in it. He knew, even as he ran, that no way could anyone in that car have survived the explosion. Adrenaline shot through Gib, making him excruciatingly alert. His nostrils flared and his gaze narrowed in calculated swings from right to left. VC could be hiding nearby. This could be an ambush. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a slender young woman screaming as she ran down the driveway toward the burning Renault. The charred remains of the car body had landed on its side and fire and black smoke poured upward through the arms of the silk trees, smudging the bright blue sky. Gib's heart pounded triple time, fear of stepping on another land mine foremost in his mind. Still his huge strides carried him forward along the bank of the narrow dirt road. Mines usually were buried in the dirt near the tire-track ruts, so he avoided the center of the road. Realizing there was nothing to be done for the driver of the car, he changed direction to intercept the young woman, who seemed to be aiming herself directly at the burning car. Didn't she realize that if the gas tank hadn't already exploded, it could, possibly killing her as well? Jerking a look across his shoulder as he ran, Gib yelled, "Pete, get the fire extinguisher! Stop one of these trucks and get some help." Pete lifted his hand in acknowledgement, quickly stepping out of the jeep. All of Gib's attention centered on the woman. At first, he thought she was Vietnamese, with her long, flowing black hair, dusky golden skin and traditional Vietnamese farmer garb. But he changed his mind as he ran around the burning wreck and drew closer to her. Her eyes were huge with shock and tears, her face heart-shaped, with high cheekbones. Ticking away his immediate impressions, Gib came to a halt in her path, both hands outstretched to prevent her from getting any closer to the car. "Maman! Maman!'' It vaguely registered on Gib's senses that she was speaking French. He'd been in Vietnam long enough to pick up a smattering. Maman meant mother. It must have been the woman's mother in the Renault. Oh, God... Even after two years of combat, Gib couldn't stop the welling up of emotion. He knew firsthand what it was like to lose a mother. His nostrils flared and Gib drank in huge draughts of air and steeled himself to take the woman's full weight. She wasn't slowing down. It was as if she didn't even see him in her path. "Wait, stop!" he pleaded, as he grabbed her arms. "You can't go any closer! It's liable to explode." Dany was jerked to a halt, nearly coming off her feet. The man, a giant towering over her, gripped her arms, trapping her. "Let me go!" Dany screamed, her words turning into sobs as she struggled. She kept her gaze riveted on the blazing inferno that surrounded the Renault. "No!" She was much stronger than he'd anticipated, Gib realized. Her black hair flew around her shoulders, and the look on her tear-streaked face was wild with anguish, her eyes filled with hysteria. "Stop fighting! You can't get any closer!"

Blindly, Dany struck out at the man in green fatigues. Nothing registered on her shocked senses except that her mother was dead or dying. She lashed out at him and tried to pull from his powerful grip. "No! Maman! Maman!" she shrieked, her voice cracking. "Hold it," Gib snapped. He dodged several of her poorly aimed blows. He knew she was out of her mind with grief and shock. For the first time he got a look into her eyes. Sweet God, but they were the greenest eyes he'd ever seen, so wide and lustrous, filled with tears and pain. His mouth went suddenly dry, he tried to gentle his grip on her arms. "Take it easy, lady! You can't go near that car. The gas tank-" "No!" Dany shrieked. Kicking, she struck out at the man, her foot connecting solidly against his upper thigh. Immediately, he released her. Stumbling backward, Dany caught herself, whirled around and headed toward the car. She had to help her mother. Tarnation! Gib cursed himself for releasing her. He leaped forward. At six foot five, Gib had long legs-a lot longer than hers, even though she was tall for a woman. "Come here!" he snapped. He grabbed her by the shoulder, feeling her hair, thick and silky, beneath his fingers. Dany saw a number of Marines from a convoy running toward the Renault, leaping out of the trucks. They had fire extinguishers and released the thick, white substance on the raging flames. Sobbing, she struck at her captor. Her hair swung across her face, strands sticking to the tears on her cheeks. Dany lashed out again, her fists meeting the hard, unforgiving wall of the man's chest. "Let me go," she cried, her struggles becoming weaker, her knees beginning to feel watery. Her mother was dead. Dead! Twisting around, Dany's gaze clung to the wreck. At least ten Marines surrounded the blaze now, beginning to get the fire under control. A sound, half sob, half cry, tore from her lips. The man's hands were like talons on her shoulders. He wasn't going to allow her any closer to the car-or her mother. Without warning, Dany's knees gave way and she found herself sinking to the earth. Pressing her hands against her face, she began to sob violently, gasping for air. Her mother was dead! She would be alone. All alone. Forever. Gib broke the woman's sudden collapse to the ground. She knelt in the red dirt, bent double in racking sobs, her hands hiding her face. Her long black curtain of hair swung forward. Gib knelt beside her, unsure if she would try to escape again. Shakily, he slid his arm across her heaving shoulders and used his body as a shield to protect her in case of further explosions. Tears jammed into his eyes as he listened to her wrenching cries. Awkwardly he patted her shoulder, trying to offer some form of comfort. Looking up, Gib blinked away the moisture. Pete Mallory was doing an excellent job directing a number of Marines from the convoy. The fire extinguishers were finally banking the wall of flames. It was easy to transfer his attention back to the woman rather than look at the carnage strewn before them. As he ran his hand across her shoulders and up and down her back, attempting to ease her pain, Gib felt an utter sense of helplessness. An emotion he'd felt all too often here in Vietnam, he thought bitterly. How many other cries of women who had lost family members had he heard in the last two years? Gib didn't want to remember the times or places, but his nightmares kept count for

him. "It's all right, honey," he soothed, hearing the strain in his own deep voice even as he tried to distance his emotions. Feeling nothing was something he'd worked long and hard at. These days, his nightmares came about once a week instead of nightly. "It's gonna be okay." Gently he touched the shining raven hair. "I'm sorry your mama was in that car. So sorry." Dany knelt in the dirt and cried without solace. She rocked back and forth, letting the pain pour out, just as the Vietnamese women did when family members were killed. The roar of the fire, the shouts and orders from the Marines became a distant background to Dany's shock. Time had no meaning; she was alone with the pain raging in her heart, consuming her. How long she knelt there, rocking and sobbing, Dany had no idea. At some point, she felt the man's hands tighten around her shoulders, and she was drawn into the cradle of his arms, pressed against his body. Gradually, his distinctive accent, deep and filled with compassion, broke through her barrier of pain. More sounds impinged through her ebbing sobs as the first huge shock wave lessened. Groggily Dany realized that she was leaning against a large man in green jungle fatigues. He was kneeling with her, cradling her like a child in his arms, his body a support for her. Weakness flowed through Dany, an unfamiliar sensation. It had always been Dany who had to be strong-for her widowed mother, for the Vietnamese who worked for them and for herself. Blinking, her lashes beaded with tears, Dany took in several halting breaths. Today, she couldn't be strong. Today... She shut her eyes, a shudder working up through her. Instantly, she felt the Marine's arms tighten around her, as if to take away her pain. As Dany continued to surface from the shock, she realized that, for the first time in her life, she was being held when she was hurting. The realization, sweet and tenuous, flowed through her. For a moment out of time, she wanted to allow herself to sink completely into the Marine's embrace, to be held and protected. Now, as never before, she needed that human gift of compassion. Watching the flames continue to lick and burn around the blackened Renault, Dany rested against the man, unable to move from his arms-the protection he was giving her. His voice, deep and dark, shaken with barely veiled emotion, touched her ravaged soul and raw heart. For a moment Dany struggled weakly against his embrace. His arms again automatically tightened. She surrendered, pressing her cheek against the rough cotton material of his shirt and closing her eyes. The finality of her mother's death overwhelmed her. It was something she had never envisioned happening. At fifty, Amy Lou had still seemed so young, especially after several facelifts in Bangkok to maintain her youthful appearance. And now she was dead. Gone forever. Dany could do nothing but lie in the Marine's arms, feeling gutted and numb-unable to move, much less walk. Gib leaned down, pressing his cheek against the woman's silky hair. He held her gently, unconsciously running his large hand slowly up and down her arm, much as he might soothe a frightened and fractious young horse back on the ranch. "It's all right, honey. Just sit here. We'll help you all we can. I'm sorry... so sorry this happened to your mama." His voice, his words, brought fresh tears to Dany's eyes. She hid her face in the folds of his now-damp shirt, unable to bear the new pain and grief that

came with them. He slowly moved, and as Dany felt his weight shift away from her, she felt bereft. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, as if she were viewing single movie frames. Then his hands slid under her arms, lifting her to her feet as if she weighed nothing. When she weaved unsteadily, his arm went around her waist. "Lean on me," he whispered, holding her close, "and I'll take you home. That is your house, isn't it?" Numbly, Dany nodded. Gib increased his hold on the woman, not at all sure she was going to be able to make it under her own power to the elegant two-story house that stood among the silk trees in the distance. He saw a number of Vietnamese farmers running toward them from behind the mansion, their voices high and excited, astonishment written on their faces. As the workers reached and surrounded Gib and Dany, Gib halted. Dany felt the hands of her workers on her arms and shoulders, the care in their touches, in their faces, breaking her even more. She gathered strength from somewhere deep within her and told them in a wobbly voice, "Mrs. Villard is dead. The car hit a mine. There's nothing that can be done. Go offer your help to the Americans." Gib watched the Vietnamese peasants as the woman spoke their language, her words soft and halting. He was struck by how melodic her voice was-like the song of a beautiful tropical bird. Trying to put some distance between his own shock and helping her, Gib realized for the first time just how truly attractive the woman was, although her face was pale beneath the golden tones of her skin, her emerald eyes dark with anguish and her delicate mouth pulled inward, reflecting her pain. He stood quietly with her in his arms as the farmers ran on to help the Marines with the fire. Looking down, he saw her close her eyes and draw in a deep, shaky breath. "What's your name?" he asked gently. Dany opened her eyes and, looking up, saw compassion in the Marine's large, intelligent hazel eyes. "Dany... Dany Villard..." "Call me Gib. Come on, let's get you inside, Mrs. Villard. You need to sit down." Villard. The name rang a definite bell for Gib. He'd heard of the plantation, and the politics of its French owners: supposedly they were neutral. But were they actively supporting VC operations to maintain that neutrality? And who had planted the land mine? ARVN or VC? Maybe the local militia? Or some unnamed splinter group? He stared down at Dany Villard's half-hidden face, wondering if she were a VC sympathizer. War had no neutrality as far as he was concerned, and more than once his colonel had shown his frustration and disgust over the Villard neutrality policy. At the time, Gib had merely shrugged it off, glad he had a helicopter squadron to run and therefore didn't have to interface with this country's complex politics the way his boss did. They walked along the brick expanse without talking. Although part of Dany still couldn't believe her mother was dead, deep down she knew it was true. She felt a huge emptiness inside her, a chilling numbness spreading in the wake of her shock. What was wrong with her? Automatically, she pressed her hand against her stomach. "Are you feeling sick?" Gib remembered too many times when he'd gotten sick after combat.

"No, just... numb. I feel so numb, as if I'm dead inside." He guided her up the series of wooden steps and through the screen door that housed a huge, wide veranda. A wizened old woman, dressed in a black overblouse, opened the heavily carved door. Gib nodded to her, hoping she spoke some English. He knew only rudimentary Vietnamese. "Where's the living room? Mrs. Villard needs to sit down," he said slowly. The Marine in him felt on guard, edgy, wondering if the gray-haired woman could be a VC spy. Nothing in Vietnam was neutral. Ever. The maid tilted her head, her eyes widening enormously as she took in Gib. Instantly she stepped aside, her shock obviously replaced with genuine concern for Dany. The maid motioned for Gib to follow her. Still Gib didn't release Dany as they entered the massive foyer with its floor of highly polished golden teak. "Let me get you to a chair," he told her. "In here," the old woman ordered and pointed to a room to the left of the foyer. "I call doctor," she said in broken English and disappeared. A good idea, Gib thought. Dany was going to need medication. The shock had been too great for her to bear. He led Dany into what he assumed was a drawing room, painted white with gilt edging along the baseboards. Photographs hung on every wall. He helped her over to a French provincial sofa of light blue silk framed in mahogany. As he gently released her onto the couch, Gib realized she had begun to tremble in earnest. Looking around, his hand still on her shoulder, he asked, "You got some liquor around this place?" "Yes." Dany motioned to a mahogany sideboard that sat next to a window. "It's in there." Investigating, Gib found a stock of just about every kind of liquor he'd ever seen. Drawing out a bottle of peach brandy, he located a snifter and poured a hefty amount into it. He brought it to Dany and, kneeling in front of her, placed it in her hands. "Take a sip," he urged. "It'll help steady your nerves." Dany stared down at the golden liquid, the sweet odor of peaches wafting toward her nose. She clasped the snifter tightly, afraid that it might tumble out of her grip. Gib reached out and settled his hand on Dany's slumped shoulder. How large his hand looked in relation to hers, he thought disjointedly. She was slender, like the tall, thin bamboo that grew in huge groves. Her bones seemed especially small and fine in comparison to his bulk. "Go on, take a drink of it. I promise, it'll do you some good." Numbly, Dany did as he coaxed and lifted the snifter to her lips. The brandy hit the back of her throat, and she gasped. Closing her eyes, she gulped the rest of it down. The pit of her stomach felt on fire, bringing renewed tears to her eyes. Retrieving the glass from Dany's hand, Gib sat down next to her on the couch.

The maid came into the room and hovered protectively next to Dany, her hands worriedly kneading Dany's shoulders, her voice soft and shaken as they conversed in Vietnamese. Gib's nerves felt jangled from the mine explosion. Again he wondered if the two women in front of him were enemy or friend. "Ma Ling, go help our people," Dany said softly to her mamasan. "There are Marines out there. Try to get them to leave as soon as possible.'' Ma Ling nodded grimly. "You will be all right?" "Y-yes. Please, just get rid of the Marines. If Binh Duc-" Patting Dany's shoulder, Ma Ling muttered, "I will take care of it. The doctor will be here soon, and he will take care of you." Trying to smile and unable to, Dany felt her eyes tear up with love for her maid. "Thank you," she whispered. Ma Ling raised her head and glared at Gib, then straightened and left the room. Leaning forward, Dany rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. Her hair fell forward, offering a semblance of privacy from the American Marine. Odd to be so near an American, she thought. Her father had been French and proud of it. And, although American-born, Dany's mother had learned to accept her husband's cultivated disdain for all things American, so Dany had grown up believing the American blood she carried in her veins was of lesser value. But when the Americans had landed on the pristine white beaches of Da Nang a few weeks ago, Dany had found herself curious about them. It was easy to dislike them and their intrusive presence, upsetting the fragile peace among the various political factions. Still, she had wondered at odd moments what Americans were really like, since she had never had the chance to see for herself-until now. There was something disturbing and uncomfortable about this Marine's presence, Dany thought, but wasn't sure why. He'd certainly helped her in a great moment of need. The fire in her stomach gradually ceased, and miraculously, Dany felt her shaking nerves become more stable. Slowly she turned her head to meet the American's gaze. For the first time, she really looked at him. His face was square and generous, as was his mouth and broad brow. His dark brown eyebrows were straight across his hazel eyes, which held the look of a hunter, a predator, in their depths. She reminded herself that he had said to call him Gib. His eyes were hard, she thought, the aura around him coiled and tension-filled. All her defenses had been shattered, and Dany couldn't have erected her normal French aloofness toward the American if she'd tried. Gib's face was harsh looking, carved out of life's experiences-not what was usually considered handsome. When his mouth flexed into a hesitant, coaxing smile as he held out the brandy snifter to her once again, a sudden warmth cascaded through Dany taking away the coldness of reality. The amiable quality caught her off guard. He was supposed to be a soldier, incapable of compassion. The discovery made her feel even more confused. "Better take one more sip and you'll really steady out," Gib urged softly, holding the snifter in her direction. He tried to disconnect emotionally from her, but the look in her eyes shattered his normally insurmountable defenses. Never, in the last two years, had he felt this damned vulnerable. What the

hell was going on? Dany nodded and accepted the glass. She took another hefty gulp without a word. Again, the fieriness of the brandy caught her by surprise. The snifter was once again lifted out of her hands by Gib, as if he were afraid she'd drop it because of her blatant reaction to the liquor. Color was coming back to Dany's high-boned cheeks, a rosiness tinting her golden skin, making her look hauntingly like a child and not the adult Gib was sure she was. He guessed her age to be around twenty-one; she was so young and fresh looking. And he wasn't at all sure that she wasn't Eurasian. There was a slight tilt to her glorious verdant eyes. Guilt nagged at Gib, and he felt like a trespasser of sorts, because Dany's eyes reflected every nuance, making it easy to read how she felt. Somehow he couldn't control his unraveling feelings and erect the usual fortress around his tightly held emotions. He needed to escape. "Thank you..." Dany said softly. Gib shrugged. "I wish I could do more for you, and I know I can't. When you lose someone you love, it's a terrible thing. You feel helpless." "Yes." Gib offered her the snifter, but this time she shook her head. He took a drink instead, finishing off the amber-colored brandy. Part of him wanted to stay and protect Dany against what he knew would come on the heels of such a tragic and unexpected loss. But a stronger part sternly reminded him it was time to leave. Setting the snifter on the mahogany coffee table in front of them, he managed a slight, uncomfortable smile. "Look, there will be a military investigation on this. Your mama's car must have hit a VC land mine just before she got to Highway 14. A Marine investigator from Da Nang will have to come out and ask you a lot of questions." He scowled. "I'll do what I can to see that they respect you in the coming days of funeral preparations. After that... well, I wish I could do more, Mrs. Villard." Dany didn't even have the strength to explain she wasn't married. If the Marines got involved in an investigation, Binh Duc would be furious and even more distrustful of her neutrality. But who was to say he hadn't placed the mine in the driveway himself? Dany knew full well the VC leader was capable of such savage deeds. Had he done it because her mother was seeing the Marine general? Clutching her fist against her stomach, Dany felt queasy. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Gib asked, alarmed at the pain again mounting in her features. "N-no, thank you." Gib nodded, not satisfied. "Look, I'll take over out there and make sure your mama's body is found. I'll contact the local authorities. If there's a priest-" Dany shook her head. "I'll call them." Her lips were dry and her mouth felt gummy. "If-if you can just find her-" "I will," Gib promised grimly. "Are you sure you're up to making such calls? Can I notify your husband? Your family?"

With a sigh, Dany whispered, "I'm the only one left. I'm not married." "Oh. Well, where are your nearest relatives?" Gib asked. "My mother was adopted, and she never knew who her real parents were in America. My father-" Dany's voice cracked as she dove on. "All my father's relatives are in France. I'll contact them shortly." Rubbing his hands against his fatigue-covered thighs, Gib nodded. The desire to escape her overwhelmingly vulnerable presence sheared through him again. He didn't want to be exposed to her tragedy. More to the point, if he was honest with himself, to her reaction to it. Scowling, he said, "Sounds like all the bases are covered for now. I've got to get going." "Of course." Getting to his feet, Gib tasted his own panic. Every second spent with Dany was unhinging his crucial, carefully constructed emotional defenses against the horrors of war. Dany looked up at Gib. She hadn't realized how tall he was until just now. He looked like a giant-but also like the man who had given her precious moments of protection when she'd never needed them more. "Thanks... for everything. I'll never forget it," she said and meant it. Gib forced a tight, one-cornered smile. "I'd do it for anyone. Goodbye." He turned and made himself walk in a controlled manner out of the room. Settling the utility cap back on his head, Gib ran lightly down the wooden stairs. As his feet touched hard earth, he felt some of the panic ease in his chest, and he took a deep, shaky breath. What kind of power did Dany Villard wield over him? With a shake of his head, Gib decided it was just one more crazy response to a wartime situation. Now he could get back to his "safe" rut of running the helicopter squadron.

Chapter Two What the hell did Colonel Parsons want of him? Gib swung up the wooden steps leading to the dark green canvas tent that served as headquarters for the Marine Air Group based at Marble Mountain. The morning air was a combination of scents: aircraft fuel, oil and the salty tang of the ocean nearby. Taking off his utility cap as he entered the large tent that housed the office "pogues"-the clerks and paper shufflers who kept the squadron going-Gib walked toward a dark green metal desk at the rear of the tent. Colonel Parsons was a lean, narrow-faced Marine in his early fifties. Wearing starched green utilities, he sat at his desk, busily reading flight reports. Gib approached and came to attention. "Reporting as ordered, sir." Parson looked up. His scowl dissolved. "Gib. Glad you could make it. At ease. Have a seat." He motioned to the dark green metal chair in front of his desk. Gib sat tensely. Normally, Parsons wasn't this amiable. His CO must want something from him. "I'm just about ready to take a flight of supplies to

Firebase Judy," Gib said. "I know, I know." Parsons leaned back in his chair. "Give the flight to Captain Mallory. I've got something that demands immediate attention, and I want you to take charge of it." "Oh?" Gib frowned. "Yes. You know that report you wrote up on the Villard woman being killed two days ago?" An uneasy feeling snaked through Gib. "Yes, sir." "I'm appointing you investigation officer on the case. It happened on South Vietnamese land, and we're officially charged with the investigation." Gib's mouth dropped opened. "What?" Parsons stared at him bluntly. "You were there. You saw it happen. There's no reason not to be the IO on this, Gib." "But, sir, I've got a squadron to run." Gib's heart started a funny hammering in his chest. He'd have to see Dany Villard again-a number of times, he was sure, before he could close the case. Again that weird panic ate at him. Her vulnerability unstrung him, got inside him, and he couldn't afford that. Not now. Parsons shrugged and took another report from his In basket. "Look, Gib, I know this is an extra duty you don't really want, but the general was a friend of Mrs. Villard's, and he wants an immediate and thorough investigation. He's upset over this." His mouth working into a tight line, Parsons growled, "I don't like this any more than you do, but you're assigned. If you hadn't been at the wrong place at the right time, I'd give it to someone else, but you were an eyewitness." Gib opened his mouth to argue, but knew it was folly. An order was an order, and a Marine followed it. Glumly, he stood. "Yes, sir." Parsons glanced up at him, keeping his voice low as he handed Gib a thick file with Villard on the tab. "Look, there are some things I don't want to see in your write-up on the investigation." Gib handled the thick folder. "Oh?" "The general was going to meet Mrs. Villard the day she was killed. He was planning to ask her to marry him. That doesn't go in there, understand?" Hating politics of any kind, Gib nodded. "Yes, sir." "The general seems to think a local VC leader by the name of Binh Duc probably is responsible for this murder. Find out. If he is, the general will make sure the little bastard's caught and hung by his-" Parsons waved him away. "Dismissed. When you get the answers, let me know." Gib nodded unhappily. "Yes, sir." Great. Just friggin' great. He didn't want the IO status. Nor did he want to see Dany Villard again. As he left headquarters and walked between the long rows of tents toward operations, Gib frowned. A part of him did want to see Dany-some crazy-assed, better ignored part, he amended. His head was screaming at him that this whole mess wasn't going to bode well for him emotionally. But he was a twenty-year Marine, and

if he wanted to continue up the promotion ladder, he had to take assignments like this every once in a while, whether he liked it or not. His mouth compressed grimly, Gib tucked the file beneath his arm. First, he'd go to operations and hand the flight over to Pete Mallory. Then he'd head to motor pool, requisition a jeep and drive to the Villard plantation. What a hell of a twist to his life.

Gib couldn't steady the beat of his heart as he slid out of the jeep. Climbing the wooden porch steps-remarkably swept clean of the constant red dust-Gib found himself feeling damned unsure, almost like a sixteen-year-old boy going out on his first date. It was crazy, he decided as he halted to knock on the screen door. Ma Ling, the maid, appeared silently before he could knock, her dark eyes accusing as she grudgingly opened the door for him. "Good morning," he said. "I'm Major Gib Ramsey, the investigation officer on Mrs. Villard's death. I'm here to talk to Dany Villard. Is she around?" Gib hadn't called before coming over, assuming that with the funeral for her mother having been yesterday, she would be remaining close to the house. Ma Ling's gaze never flinched from his. She jabbed angrily at him. "You in uniform!" Gib was taken aback by the mamasan's fury. "Of course I am." What the hell was her problem? Ma Ling bristled. "Major, Villard neutral." Gib scowled and opened his mouth to speak. "You no come here in uniform," Ma Ling continued in her stilted English, wagging her finger up at him. Anger tinged Gib's patience. "Look, I'm here to see Miss Villard," he ground out, "on official Marine Corps business. The sooner we quit chatting and get this over with, the quicker I'll be out of here and you'll have your neutrality back." Glaring, Ma Ling stepped aside and allowed him into the highly polished teakwood foyer. Although she was dwarfed by his height, disgust was clearly written on her small features. She pointed her gnarled finger toward the drawing room where he'd taken Dany four days earlier. "You go in there. Miss Dany sleeping. She very tired by her mama's funeral." Guilt stabbed at him. He should have called first, damn it. His mouth quirked, and he nodded. "Tell her I'm sorry, but I don't have a choice in the matter." Ma Ling glared at him and left him standing alone. Out of sight, out of mind, Gib thought perversely as the mamasan disappeared. Wiping the sweat off his upper lip, he sauntered into the room. The plantation was quiet, with a soothing silence that certainly didn't exist at Marble Mountain. Minutes later Ma Ling returned with a teakwood tray. Dany was nowhere in sight. Ma Ling glanced accusingly at Gib as she placed two dainty white china cups and saucers on the French provincial coffee table in front of the couch. The sterling silver teapot was placed between the cups, as was the

creamer and sugar bowl. "Miss Dany be down shortly. She said to serve tea." At least she was trying to be somewhat sociable, instead of openly hostile. His hands in his pockets, Gib turned his attention to the walls of the room, beginning to inspect the framed photographs he'd noticed on his previous visit. On closer look, Gib realized that Dany's mother must have been a Hollywood actress. Two large, colorful movie posters adorned the nearest wall. Reading the credits, Gib saw Amy Lou Rawlings's name in each of them, although in small print compared to the leading actor and actress. Moving to the next wall, he saw black-and-white photos of Dany's mother with a dashing, mustached man whom he guessed must be Hugo Villard, Dany's father. It appeared they had gone to every famous Hollywood spot, including the world-renowned Polo Lounge, where anyone who was anybody met to be seen for lunch or dinner. The third wall held photos of Dany's parents getting married. It was obviously a Hollywood wedding with all the dramatics that Tinsel Town could muster. Judging by the cars and clothes, the wedding had taken place in the 1930s. In another picture, Hugo sat astride a bay polo horse, surrounded by actors, looking proud and typically French with a natural air of aplomb. Gib shook his head. Dany certainly didn't seem like the product of a Hollywood marriage. The investigation he'd been maneuvered into taking by his colonel had uncovered some interesting information about Amy Lou, however, and Gib didn't have trouble believing she'd been a Hollywood starlet, based on how she'd lived in Vietnam. Frowning, Gib found himself staring at the photos on the fourth and last wall. The Villard plantation was a frequent setting for parties with key Vietnamese officials, it appeared. There was even a photo of the latest Saigon government politicians with Hugo and Amy Lou. In another, the couple stood with Thieu, the latest strong man in Vietnam. The palace showed in the background of that photo, obviously taken in Saigon. The wall of pictures celebrated the Villard power and social life, incorporating one extravaganza after another. In each photo, Amy Lou was dressed in gaudy costumes befitting her earlier Hollywood image. But where was Dany in all these pictures? Gib wondered. There were no baby pictures of her, of a proud mother holding her much-loved daughter. At his parent's ranch in Midland, Texas, Gib poignantly recalled, the top of their television had become a favorite, crowded spot for pictures of each of the four children. Thinking he'd somehow missed the ones of Dany as a baby or a little girl, Gib began to peruse the wall more carefully. Gib was standing, hands on hips, critically studying the last wall of photos when he heard Dany enter the room. Unbidden, his heart skipped beats as he allowed his hands to drop to his sides and he turned around. Nothing could have prepared him for seeing her once again. Dany was dressed in a pale green cotton overblouse and loose, white cotton slacks, her feet bare. Her eyes still looked drowsy and slightly puffy. Her hair was pinned up haphazardly, ebony tendrils curled and clinging to her dampened temples. She looked like a disheveled girl, Gib thought, vulnerable and innocent. Shaking himself internally, he tried to get a handle on his feelings. Today, her lovely golden skin looked more healthy. Her lips were full, he discovered, and delicately shaped, the corners soft and turned slightly upward. She had her mother's small, fine nose, and as his gaze moved upward to meet her startling green eyes, Gib unconsciously inhaled.

Dany's eyes were her most beautiful asset, Gib decided as he offered her a slight smile of welcome. He felt more unsure of himself now than any sixteen year old ever could have felt. She had the most alluring eyes he'd ever encountered, but they were dark with grief, the only outward sign of the tragedy she had endured. Her anguished expression quickly tamped his initial reactions to her as a woman. "I'm sorry I woke you. I didn't think I'd be seeing you again. I'm Major Gib Ramsey. I've been appointed investigation officer on your mother's death." Dany felt as if a weight on her shoulders had lightened when she walked into the drawing room and saw Gib standing there, studying the photos on the wall. When he turned, an incredible warmth suffused her, easing the pain she hadn't been able to escape since her mother's death. His large, alert hazel eyes broadcast his solicitude, and once again she felt protected and genuinely cared for. The feeling was so foreign to Dany that she was taken aback by it for precious seconds as she stood awkwardly beneath his heated, burning inspection. Capturing her scattered thoughts, Dany realized he was in uniform, as Ma Ling had already angrily informed her. Dany's heart fell as he told her the reason for his appearance. "Investigation?" she asked in disbelief. "Of course." "But... why?'' She held out her hands in question. Tension swirled around them, and Gib agonized over her sudden wariness. Was she a VC sympathizer? He wished he knew for sure, although his heart was convinced she wasn't. "The mine detonated at the intersection of your driveway and Highway 14," he explained patiently. "That's official South Vietnamese property. And a Marine convoy was passing your home at the time the explosion occurred. My CO assigned me to investigate what happened, Miss Villard. We have to determine who did it and, if possible, why. I need to ask you some questions." Shaken, Dany whispered, "But your presence here threatens our neutrality." Grimly, Gib walked to the sofa and gestured for her to sit. "There's nothing neutral about war," he said gruffly. "Now, if you'll take a seat, I'll try and make this as painless as possible on you." And on me. Sweet God, but his sense of protection was overwhelming him. Dany looked absolutely distraught by his presence. An investigation would do nothing but dredge up all her grief over her mother's passing. He felt like hell about it. Touching her brow, Dany drew in a ragged breath. "I'm sorry... I'm forgetting my manners. Please, sit down. Ma Ling has made us tea." The sofa was as delicate looking as everything else in the home. Gib, always aware of his size, sat down carefully. He noticed that Dany's hand trembled perceptibly as she filled one cup with tea and handed it to him. Again, he was struck by the shadows under her eyes and their slight puffiness. No doubt she'd been crying more than sleeping the last couple of days. "Thanks," he murmured, holding the cup and saucer between his hands. "How are you getting on?"

Dany shrugged and poured herself tea, not really wanting to drink it. "I survive moment to moment," she admitted huskily as she sat back, her cup and saucer also in her hands, untouched. Gib nodded. Her fragility was transparent in her every move, in her soft words, edged with pain. He was grateful that she didn't try to evade him with social small talk. Dany wasn't the actress in the family. She was too genuine to hide behind some carefully constructed facade as Amy Lou appeared to have done all her life. He cleared his throat. "I was an eyewitness to your mother's death, and there are some questions I need answered." Placing the cup and saucer on the coffee table, Gib opened his folder. The official IO report stared back at him. Dany moved uncomfortably. "I don't understand why the American military has to be involved. The local authorities are investigating. Shouldn't that be enough? Can't you talk to Constable Jordan in Da Nang? He's responsible for law enforcement in this region and has already taken my statement." Dany feared Binh Duc's reaction to Americans snooping around. He might already know that Gib was here, blatant in his tan, short-sleeved Marine uniform. "I'll talk to him, too," Gib said, writing down the name. "I have to try to determine whether the land mine was buried by VC to destroy Marine convoys that travel up and down the highway, or if someone had a vendetta against your mother." Dany's eyebrows dipped. "I'm sure it was a land mine put there to try to kill the American Marines." She set the cup and saucer down a little too loudly on the coffee table and got up, unable to sit still a moment longer. Her gut screamed at her that Binh Duc had been responsible for her mother's death because of Amy Lou's flirtation with the American general. Whether Dany would ever be able to prove it was another thing. More importantly, Dany knew she didn't dare divulge Duc's name to either the Vietnamese authorities or the American military. To do so would invite reprisals from Duc's powerful force-a group that melted into the population by day and gathered after dark to wreak havoc. She didn't want the plantation destroyed, or any more lives taken. Gib clung to his patience. Dany was suddenly nervous. Was she afraid he'd uncover VC connections? "Has anyone threatened your mother lately?" he asked quietly. Dany looked over her shoulder. "Of course not!" Gib motioned to the walls of pictures. "She looks to be a famous celebrity. A Hollywood actress?" With a grimace, Dany folded her arms against her body as she stood in the center of the room. Her voice was low and off-key. "Didn't you know pictures lie? That's what Hollywood really is: carefully orchestrated lies designed to make the public think some beautiful fairy-tale land exists out there, and all the people who belong to it are somehow magical and better off than the rest of us." She halted abruptly. This Marine didn't care about her. All he wanted was information that would ultimately destroy Villard neutrality. Her pain was very real. Gib frowned. "Tell me about your mother. Was she a famous actress in Hollywood's heyday?" Dany's mouth quirked. "Let's stick to business, shall we, Major? No one had threatened my mother."

He wasn't going to be deterred. "I need some background information. Tell me about the Villard plantation." Feeling trapped, Dany stood very stiffly. As much as she wanted to dislike Gib Ramsey, the opposite was occurring. His eyes, although hard, held something else in their depths. Every time she connected with and held his probing gaze, she felt an incredible surge of warmth and protection surrounding her. It was ridiculous! Dany shrugged it off, attributing it to her grief-stricken state. Her heart pounding, she licked her lower lip. "We're a rubber plantation, Major. A thousand acres of rubber trees. That's what we do for a living-produce rubber and export it. We've been here since 1930." "How did your family get through the Vietminh years?" Gib asked. Dany frowned. "Just as we're doing right now-by remaining neutral. My father refused to take sides in the Vietminh situation when Vietnam was a French colony." "Did that create enemies?" Exasperated, Dany shrugged. "I don't know!" She wheeled around and started to pace the long, rectangular room. "I wasn't even born then. And my parents never-spoke about it to me." Gib dutifully recorded the information for his report. It hurt him to see her like this, especially knowing he was the reason she was becoming unraveled. He tried to take the gruff ness out of his tone. "Who handles the operation of the plantation?" "I do," Dany said flatly. She turned and walked back to him. "I've run this place since my father died." "Didn't your mother help?" Gib found it phenomenal that Dany could handle the reins of such a large operation. His ranch back in Texas was as big, and he knew the problems involved in managing such a concern. "My mother-" Dany stopped, then sighed. "My mother lived to be a part of the social scene, Major. I stayed here and ran the plantation." Her voice dropped and grew hoarse. "The land is what I love. This land and its people. Out back of this house is a Vietnamese village. Three generations of families have helped us till this soil and keep the plantation whole and alive." Moved by her admission, Gib tore his gaze from her. As a rancher, he understood love of the land only too well. There was something honorable about Dany that struck him hard. He forced himself back to the report. "What is your affiliation with the Vietcong?" He didn't look up, fearing the answer. Dany made an exasperated sound. "Affiliation? Major, I'm neutral! I don't deal with them at all! I have the local leader's word that he will not cross or use my plantation in any warlike activity or purpose." "Would that be Binh Duc?" Inwardly, Dany winced. "Yes." Gib looked up measuring the expression in her eyes and the tone of her voice. "You know him?"

"Of course I do!" Frustrated, Dany cried, "I've lived here all my life, Major! Just because I know Binh Duc doesn't mean I consort with him! Is that what you're implying? That I'm a VC sympathizer?" Grimly, Gib held her angry, hurt gaze. "You tell me. Are you?" "No!" "Then who do you think planted that mine?" Rubbing her forehead, tears jamming into her eyes, Dany whispered, "I don't know!" Gib had no defense against her. His heart jagged with the pain he was causing her by asking such brutal questions. The tears in her eyes made him feel like hell. "On the other hand," he began hoarsely, "if the VC felt you weren't being neutral in some way, they could have planted it." Dany stood very still, fighting an overwhelming-and ridiculous-need to be held by Gib Ramsey. She couldn't forget the feel of his arms around her after the explosion, or the husky tone of his voice as he'd tried to soothe her panic and grief. Stiffening her spine, she rattled, "That's entirely possible, I suppose, but we've done nothing to make the VC think we're anything but neutral." She agonized over the possibility. Binh Duc was fully capable of doing such a thing. Grimly, he said, "It's known that your mother and a certain Marine general were pretty serious about each other." Dany's heart thudded once, hard, in her breast. She felt the iciness of fear stab through her gut. "What?" she whispered. Gib saw the disbelief and shock in her eyes. Was Dany putting on an act, or was this real? His heart told him she was genuinely stunned by his statement. "I'm privy to certain information that confirms your mother was very serious about this general. What do you know about it?" 'N-nothing." Dany stood there, feeling suddenly dizzy with dread. Had Duc found this out? Was that the reason for the mine? She touched her brow and stared down at the teak floor. "My mother's life was private. She always shared silly gossip with me when she came back from luncheons and charity benefits, but I never knew... really knew about her..." She grasped for the right words. Amy Lou had always been a tease to men and, like a butterfly, had never stayed with one man very long since Dany's father's death. Why hadn't her mother told her how serious she was about this general? Tears drove into Dany's eyes, and she forced herself to look at Gib. "How much do you know about her relationship with the general?" she demanded in a choked voice. "That he was going to ask her to marry him the day she died in that mine explosion." "Oh, God...." Dany wavered, then caught herself. "Didn't you know?" Covering her eyes with her hand, Dany dragged in a deep breath. It all made sense now. Amy Lou had known the general for six months, gone out with him with a regularity that hadn't marked her other relationships. Why hadn't Dany

realized it? Lamely, she admitted, "I didn't know. She never told me." "But if Binh Duc had known, wouldn't he have had reason to plant a mine, feeling you were no longer neutral?" "I-I don't know." And she didn't. Trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall, Dany squeezed her eyes shut and took a huge, ragged breath. "All I want to do now, Major, is live here in peace. I don't like the VC, their methods or their political philosophy. Nor do I agree with the South Vietnamese bringing Marines from America here." Stormily, Dany held his gaze. "I want nothing to do with anyone. Is that clear? I don't condone any political position. My home-our land-is what's important. That, and the people of my village. I care about human beings and I care about surviving this damned war. It's like a cancer touching all of us!" Her cry seared Gib. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd set aside the report papers and risen to his feet. Dany stood so alone and forlorn. He ached to put his arms around her and protect her in a purely human response to her need. Something cautioned him not to, though, and he halted a foot away from her. "In some ways, we have a lot in common. In others, we don't," he said in an effort to somehow assuage all the pain he'd brought to bear on her this morning. Dany was wildly aware of Gib's proximity. The urge to fall into his arms increased tenfold until it was an almost tangible, driving thing. She stepped away from him, afraid of the unexpected emotions he seemed to trigger in her. "How do you mean?" she whispered, her mouth suddenly dry. Gib smiled gently. Dany's face was dotted with a sheen of perspiration. The noontime heat was turning the drawing room into a steam room in his estimation. But there was a different kind of heat rising in him-a slow building fire he needed to fight. "You gotta understand Texans," Gib said gruffly, scrambling to find some neutral ground between them. He couldn't go on torturing Dany with his questions. Her grief was too fresh, and the jolting realization that her mother had been ready to become engaged obviously had been too much for her to cope with. In an effort to soothe her, he began to talk about himself-the private side-something he'd done very little of since coming to Vietnam. "Texans are a unique breed in the United States, and we're real family oriented. My daddy died in a freak pickup accident when I was ten, so Mama raised the four of us by herself, plus ran the Ramsey ranch. We shared a love of the land. I was raised on hard, dry Texas earth. Midland's part of the oil-boom country of Texas, but my daddy always raised herefords. His death ended up bringing us even closer together-a tight-knit team bound and determined to make ends meet." Gib's voice was like a balm to Dany's shredded emotions. There was so much to this complex man. Dany tried to tell herself she was interested because he was American, and she wanted to know about American things because the blood ran in her veins. "So you grew up poor?" "Dirt poor," Gib said. He motioned to her bare feet. "And just like you, the four of us ran around in ragged coveralls and bare feet most of the time. The only time we saw a pair of shoes was when we had to go to school, and then we wore them grudgingly. The baby of our family, Tess, hated shoes. She used to get punished at school for taking them off in class and walking around barefoot in the halls." Gib smiled at the thought of his stubborn baby

sister-now an equally stubborn young woman who was also living in Vietnam, determined to help the peasants through her civilian-relief job. Dany smiled hesitantly at the light of happiness shining in his hazel eyes as he reminisced. She could hear it, too, in his low, deep voice. "Your mother is a very special woman, then," she said. "A strong woman loyal to the land and to the four of you." Dany wished her own mother had simply loved her, wanted her. She didn't mind that Amy Lou wasn't really strong in many ways. "Yes," Gib agreed, "she was very special-to all of us." Dany tilted her head. "Was? Is she dead?" Gib's mouth quirked, and he glanced down at her. He saw in her eyes the sudden compassion for him, for his loss. It triggered a deluge of old, poignant memories. "You get me going here, and I'll rag your ear off with stories about my life and my family. I don't think you want to hear that," he jested weakly. "No... I'd like to hear about your mother, your family-that is, if you don't mind sharing it with me?" A sudden lump formed in Gib's throat. He cleared it once. His mother had died unexpectedly, too, in his arms, of a heart attack two days after he'd returned home from getting his wings. To this day, the memory brought up unparalleled grief. Gruffly, he muttered, "I'm concerned how you're going to take your mama's death." "With a lot of guilt and remorse," Dany admitted rawly. "I always loved her, but she-" Dany couldn't say it. It took every shred of strength left in her to not say more. How badly she wanted to let down her guard and talk to Gib, to tell him the awful truth that haunted her. How terribly alone Dany really was, Gib realized. He ached to share the warmth of real family with her. But under the circumstances, as IO in this matter, it was impossible. He knew he'd better bring things back to a more professional level. "Well," Gib said hoarsely, "I think I've got enough information from you today to start the investigation." "Will you have to come back?" The terror in her voice was real. Gib stared down at her. "I don't like this any better than you do, but I've got a general waiting for this report. I'll talk to the constable tomorrow." Wearily, Dany backed away from him. Gib felt like a heel. He could see the grief and despair in her ravaged eyes. "You know, you might think of selling the plantation and leaving the country. This place is too much for one young woman to run by herself.'' Dany managed a strained smile at his gentle tone. Sweet God in heaven, but she was fractions of a moment from stepping into the cradle of his arms again. "I'd never sell this place, Major. It's been my whole life for the last six years." "Oh?" "Yes. I was finishing up my degree in economics from the Sorbonne in Paris when my father became very ill with liver cancer. I graduated days before his death."

Hungry to know more about Dany, Gib couldn't help himself. "Did you know he was dying?" Dany shook her head. "Father had ordered my mother not to tell me. He felt it was more important that I study, get good grades and receive a diploma. He thought if I knew, I'd want to come home and not continue to study in Paris full-time." She looked away, fighting tears. "He was right." Inwardly, Gib seethed with anger. How callous and unfeeling her parents seemed to have been toward Dany's obvious needs. "So you arrived home to find him dying?" he growled, unable to disguise all his anger. "When my father said they couldn't come to Paris for my graduation, I knew something was very wrong. My parents had always pushed me to get a degree. Neither of them had one, and they wanted me to better myself." Dany walked slowly to the sofa and sat down. "He told me over the phone how proud he was of me that I had graduated with honors, but that he couldn't make the trip. When I asked why, he just told me I'd know more when I came home." "Good God," Gib breathed savagely, but stopped himself from saying more. Dany saw the accusation in his eyes. "They loved me the best they knew how, Major." "It sure as hell wasn't enough," he rasped. "Not nearly enough." Again, Dany felt the overwhelming protectiveness emanating from him. It was such an incredibly different feeling, one she'd never encountered before. It acted as a stabilizer to her raw, spinning state. "Perhaps not," Dany ventured softly. "When I got home, I found out the truth. I spent the last five days with my father-at least I had that time with him. We really talked for the first time in our lives about a lot of things...important things. It was from him that I really began to understand about my parents and what they meant to each other. I stopped being angry at them after that, because I knew they both loved me in their own way, and gave me what they had to give me." It wasn't much, Gib wanted to tell her, swallowing his anger. "How did your mother react to your father's death?" "Terribly. She went to pieces after he died. For a year, she stayed in bed. The doctor said she had suffered a severe nervous breakdown, and he prescribed a lot of tranquilizers. After she got over the grief of my father's passing, I spent another year getting her off the drugs- she'd become addicted to them. Gradually, Maman came out of it and began to live again. I picked up the reins of managing the plantation, and really, it was easy for me, because I understood what had to be done. Our workers are my extended family. I spent more time with them than with my parents when I was growing up. So when my father died and I assumed control, they remained loyal." "And you've been running this huge place by yourself ever since." Gib was amazed in one sense, but he had his own mother's example to look to, running their large Texas ranch and providing the bare essentials of life for five people. The set of Dany's chin and the flash of pride in her eyes told him she was made out of the same bolt of cloth his mother had been. "It has been hard," Dany assured him my salvation-my friend, if you will. accounting books or the mountains of my mother. The Vietnamese people who

with a small smile. "But also it's been I could bury myself in farm work and the export papers when things got tough with work and live on our land are wonderful.

They love this plantation and the soil as much as I do. The children I grew up with are now working with me. Most of their parents are old, but I refuse to kick them off the land. I ask the elders to contribute what they can, and in a way that gives them respect and importance. We operate more like a village hamlet than an agricultural business." Gib shook his head. "This place seems too big for one person to handle effectively." Dany shrugged. "I don't have anything else to do. I'm used to working twelve to sixteen hours a day, Major." Gib knew it was past time for him to leave. Crossing to the sofa, he picked up the report. "I'll be back later," he promised. "Next time, I'll call ahead." Dany nodded, chewing her lower lip with worry. "Couldn't you just call me? We could talk over the phone." Gib shook his head. "No. I don't like this any more than you do, but it's got to be done." Dany felt suddenly crushed-and angry-at his insensitivity to her plight. Settling the garrison cap on his head, Gib looked over at her. Anger was in her eyes, but so was something else. Something that triggered his protective mechanism. "I'll be in touch," he promised huskily.

Chapter Three "Colonel Parsons wants to see you right away," Sergeant Jeffrey said from his desk. Frowning, Gib dropped the pencil onto his own desk. Damn. What now? "Thanks, Jeffrey." Locating his utility cap in a lower drawer, Gib got to his feet and walked across the hollow-sounding plywood floor of the tent toward the door. He knew what the colonel wanted-an update on the Villard investigation. As Gib left the hot, steamy confines of the tent and stepped out into the morning sunlight, the temperature and humidity, both well into the nineties, hit him squarely. He settled the dark green utility cap on his head, the bill almost brushing the bridge of his nose to shade his eyes from the blinding sun. Marble Mountain was a small base in comparison to Da Nang, which lay to the north of them. It had been erected on virgin white sands at the edge of the turquoise and emerald ocean. For as far as the eye could see hard-backed tents and other structures more solidly built out of wood dotted the hilly landscape. In addition, a series of bunkers sat nearby to protect against enemy attack. The place reminded Gib of a hive of busy bees, except that the men were clothed in dark green jungle utilities. In the last month the Marines had moved over eight thousand men into Da Nang. Was it the start of a larger American buildup? Gib wondered. On his last tour, he'd worked exclusively with ARVN soldiers, and there had been very few GIs in Vietnam, except in advisory capacities such as his own. Things were changing now, and it bothered him deeply. Part of the reason he'd volunteered for a second tour was because of his strong and personal ties with the Vietnamese ARVN soldiers. Now it was looking more and more like a U.S. staged event. Stateside, they still called it a "conflict," but every day Gib felt it looked more and more like war.

Movement at Marble Mountain was constant: helicopters buzzed overhead; men and jeeps hurried from one place to another. Today, Gib felt the strains and pressures of the ceaseless activity more than usual. Steeling himself for Colonel Parson's questioning, Gib slipped into the tent marked with a red sign trimmed in yellow. Marine Air Group-(MAG)-Headquarters, it proclaimed. Parsons looked up as Gib entered. Gib stood at customary attention until he was ordered to be at ease and sit down. "I've got the general breathing down my neck," the colonel began without preamble. "What have you found out about the Villard case?" "Not much, sir," Gib admitted. "I talked to Constable Jordan in Da Nang a week ago, and he feels Binh Duc is probably responsible for the placement of the mine that killed Mrs. Villard." Parsons's lean hand tightened around the pen he was holding. "Any proof?" "No, sir. Short of finding Duc and making him admit it, I doubt we're going to get anything substantial." "Have you questioned Miss Villard's peasants?" Gib felt his CO's probing eyes go through him. With the unexpected number of helo flights the last week, he hadn't been able to schedule time to see Dany again. "Not yet, but that's next on my list." "When?" "Today, sir," Gib lied. He knew he was dragging his feet on this investigation because of Dany's effect on him. Parsons wasn't going to allow any more stalling on his part. He might as well get it over with. Parsons grunted his satisfaction. "I've been meaning to tell you that I'm appointing you official liaison officer to Miss Villard. It's been so damned busy around here that I keep forgetting to tell you." "Liaison officer? What for?" The colonel shrugged noncommittally. "Don't know yet. That's the word that came up from Saigon a couple days ago. The boys at headquarters don't think we need to know what's going on-as usual." Bothered, but not sure why, Gib nodded. "We're still investigating the death of Miss Villard's mother, sir." "That has nothing to do with this second assignment, Gib." Irritated, Gib scowled. So what the hell did? "Does HQ have some other plans involving the Villard plantation?" Parsons shrugged. "As I said before, Gib, they don't make me privy to the think-tank personnel who go around all day cooking up screwball ideas to hand to the field Marines. If I had anything more than that, I'd give it to you." Rankled, Gib nodded. "Sounds like HQ has something bigger up their sleeve." "Probably," Parsons agreed dryly. "But until they tell us, we can just hang out over the cliff wondering what the hell it is. We really don't have time

for that." Gib agreed. "I'll schedule some time to see Miss Villard this afternoon and question her workers. Maybe one of them knows something." Parsons snorted. "My money's on the local VC chieftain. Those gooks probably won't talk to you for fear of his reprisal." Gib cringed inwardly at the colonel's use of the derogatory term to refer to the Vietnamese people. To him, it showed lack of sensitivity and, worse, a lack of understanding of a people whose history was thousands of years old. They deserved to be treated as human beings, not placed under some convenient, insulting label. "It wouldn't make sense in this case, sir. Miss Villard said she has had an agreement, a neutrality, with all parties involved since 1930." With a tight, smile, Parsons muttered, "Miss Villard is fooling herself if she thinks she can remain neutral in the middle of all this." "I don't know, sir, the Villards managed to do it when the French colonials were fighting the Vietminh in the fifties." "This is different." "If I get a deposition with any proof of Duc's involvement, I'll contact you upon my return." "Good. Dismissed." Gib came to attention and left. Against his better judgment, he looked forward to seeing Dany. Had she recovered from the initial shock of her mother's death? He hadn't been able to forget the look on her face, the puffiness beneath her eyes, showing how much she'd cried. Moving between the long rows of tents, he made his way to his own. Recalling Ma Ling's severe censure about showing up in uniform, Gib decided that to keep the peace he'd better slip into civilian clothes. His it, The but

tent was small and spare, including a metal a metal locker where he stored his clothes, plywood floor was swept daily by Vietnamese sand inevitably crunched beneath his flight

bunk with a thin mattress on an office desk and a phone. women who worked on the base, boots.

Grabbing a towel, Gib headed for the hastily erected plywood showers that stood at the end of the row of tents. On some days, the grit of Marble Mountain felt like burrs under a saddle as far as Gib was concerned. The fine sand got trapped inside his dark green flight suit and chafed until his skin was raw and bleeding. Then fungal infection could set in, becoming a nightmare of trying to get rid of the leaky abrasions with ten-day cycles of penicillin. He shook his head at the thought. Yeah, great climate they had here. Right now Gib wanted a lukewarm shower to cleanse his crowded, exhausted mind almost as much as to wash the sand off his body. Drying himself afterward, he padded down the row of tents thongs, the white towel wrapped loosely around his narrow welcome change to get out of his one-piece flight uniform clean civilian clothes. Back at his tent, Gib pulled on a short-sleeved shirt, fresh underwear and tan slacks, then through his short dark hair, taming it into place.

in his shower hips. It would be a and into a set of light blue quickly ran a comb

Feeling semi-human once again, he borrowed a yellow Citroen from an ARVN

officer friend and headed toward Dany Villard's plantation. As Gib drove along Highway 1, which would eventually lead to 14, his mind strayed to the passing countryside. The afternoon heat was building across Vietnam, the sun burning down from a bright azure sky to touch the top of the triple-canopied jungle. The smells that surrounded Gib were many, from pungent and acrid to cloyingly sweet. To him, Vietnam was a land of extremes, but more than anything, it was one of the most beautiful places on earth-and, unfortunately, rapidly becoming one of the deadliest. As he drove down the Villard plantation's long redbrick driveway, Gib saw the few Vietnamese peasants working along the boulevard look up in curiosity. But their faces gave away nothing of what they thought or felt about his intrusive presence. At the house, Gib climbed out of the Citroen. The need to see Dany was nearly overwhelming in one sense, yet uncomfortable in another. As he took the steps two at a time, Gib tried to search for why he was drawn so powerfully to her, but no answer was forthcoming. All he knew was that thinking of Dany brought a lush flow of feelings that he'd thought he'd lost by being in combat for nearly two tours. And he couldn't afford to feel like that-not here in Vietnam with the rigors of combat he faced every day. He knocked at the screen door and waited patiently for Ma Ling to appear. Ma Ling answered his knock, her broad brow wrinkling instantly when she saw who it was. "Yes?" she demanded. Gib spoke slowly. "I'm here to see Miss Villard." Ma Ling's scowl deepened, but she reluctantly opened the door. "Come, you go through house. Miss Dany out with workers." Gib nodded. "Thank you.'' Shaking her head, Ma Ling led him through the teakwood halls to a rear door. "Go out there," she ordered. "You find her there." Gib thanked her and, leaving his briefcase near the back door, stepped out once more into the sunshine. Bougainvillea grew in bright profusion around the rear of the house, and a small, carefully manicured lawn with a number of silk trees bordering it made up the backyard. A variety of orchids climbed and hung in the limbs of the silk trees, their colors and scents dazzling his senses. As always, the calls of birds, each melody different, wafted out of the jungle that surrounded the rubber-tree plantation like a somewhat discordant symphony. Screamer monkeys could be heard, their shrieks sounding almost human in the distance. Beyond the small oval lawn, row upon row of rubber trees stretched for as far as the eye could see. To the left sat a small village of thatched huts. As Gib sauntered across the lawn toward a group of peasants within the line of the rubber trees, he remained on high alert. He still had no proof that Dany or her people weren't VC sympathizers. Dany had been right: The small village that housed her farmhands and their families appeared more like a hamlet than the poorly built and maintained transient-labor cottages he'd seen on large Texas cotton farms. Everything was neatly kept. Blackened cooking pots sat on iron tripods over small fires, the odor of rice and highly seasoned vegetables filling his nostrils. Older women dressed in black and wearing bamboo hats crouched over the fires, tending the forthcoming evening meals. Very young children, naked and golden brown,

screamed and played among the huts. Scrawny dogs chased them, yipping and barking happily at their heels. As Gib neared the group of peasants, who were raking up leaves and twigs from around the rubber trees, he spotted Dany. Halting, he put his hands in his pockets and looked at her. Unbidden, a smile worked its way onto his lips. Holding a rake, Dany worked alongside the ten other men and women. She wore loose blue cotton pants, too big on her slender form. Her white cotton overblouse was smudged with dirt here and there, testament that she had been working long and hard today. Her face was covered with a sheen of perspiration, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. Her long hair had been caught up beneath the bamboo hat she wore to protect her face from the harsh rays of the tropical sun. Gib's smile deepened as his gaze moved downward. Dany was barefoot. She worked unceasingly with her peasants, intent on what she was doing. A small rickety wheelbarrow sat nearby, filled with the twigs, branches and leaves they'd collected, leaving the ground swept clean. "Dany?" Her name slipped from his lips, more like a reverent prayer than a call intended to catch her attention. Gib was surprised to hear himself use her first name-and by how softly he'd spoken it. Her link with the land made him feel unexpectedly good about her. Thus far, everything she'd said had proven true, Gib thought. If only he could prove for certain that she wasn't a VC sympathizer. Dany jerked her head up. Her heart banged violently in her breast. Gib Ramsey stood smiling at her, dressed in civilian clothes-and looking devastatingly handsome, she thought unwillingly. The peasants hadn't even heard him call her name. But she had. Confused, she stopped raking and walked toward him. Part of her was thrilled at seeing him, another part filled with dread and fear. In spite of his civilian clothes, word might get back to Binh Duc that he was here, on her property, once again. Feelings of joy warred with embarrassment as Dany approached him. Glancing down at herself, she realized how unkempt she was. Heat nettled her cheeks, but there was nothing she could do about her appearance at this point. Still, she saw the warm look of greeting in Gib's hazel eyes, the line of his mouth stretching into a lazy smile that sent her heart skittering. "I'm back," Gib greeted. Dany's face was flushed, tendrils of black hair sticking to her temples and down the sides of her neck. Her skin had a golden glow. Dany halted a few feet from him. Caught off guard by his unexpected presence and unsettled by her own response to him, she heard anger tinge her voice as she asked, "Couldn't you have at least called?" Gib saw the look of dread laced with anger replace the sparkle of life that had shone in her green eyes when she first saw him. Was it because of his official capacity? Or aimed at him personally? He didn't want her to dislike him, he discovered. "I'll try to remember to do that next time," he said coolly. "I need to discuss some other things with you-" Dany gripped his arm and turned him toward the house, looking around and pursing her lips. "Then let's go inside where we can't be seen.'' Sensing her worry, Gib fell in step with her as they moved toward the house. "Is anything wrong?"

Taking the wooden steps quickly, Dany placed the rake against the wall and opened the rear screen door. "As always, your being here jeopardizes my neutrality, Major." Gib stepped inside. He watched as she took off her bamboo hat and set it on the floor. "I won't stay long," he told her. Dany gestured for him to follow her. She didn't have the heart to chide him further. Her pulse wouldn't settle down, and she poked nervously at her damp hair. She was sure she looked utterly disheveled, and she wished mightily that Gib had called first. For some reason, she didn't want him to see her like this. Leading him into the main part of the house, Dany called for Ma Ling to bring iced tea. Then she took Gib on to the enclosed veranda at the front of the house. "Let me have a quick shower and change into some clean, dry clothes," she said quickly. "I'll join you shortly." "Sure," Gib said. "But you look beautiful just the way you are," he couldn't resist adding. He saw her cheeks flame scarlet. "Oh-" Dany's heart tripled its beat. Licking her lips nervously, she backed off the veranda and hesitated at the entrance. "I'd better change. I'll be just a moment." Sitting down on one of the bamboo chairs, which had huge, soft pink cushions, Gib wondered at her reaction. Wasn't Dany used to being complimented? Apparently not, she'd blushed like a schoolgirl. Ma Ling appeared with two chilled glasses of iced tea. She set the accompanying pitcher on a small bamboo table covered with thick etched glass. A plate of sliced lemons and a sterling silver sugar bowl completed the ensemble. Gib thanked her and got up to squeeze lemon juice into his glass and add two heaping spoons of sugar. This time, Ma Ling didn't give him the accusing stare. He grinned, taking the glass back to his chair to sit down. Maybe it was the maid's way of praising him for showing up in civilian clothes. Dany quickly slipped into a long, pale pink cotton skirt that brushed her ankles and a sleeveless white blouse. Her hair hung in damp sheets about her shoulders. She quickly ran a brush through the strands to smooth them into place, then captured the mass into one long braid that hung between her shoulder blades. Her ever-present grief lifted slightly at the thought of Gib downstairs. Dany glanced at herself in the bedroom mirror. Wispy strands swept across her forehead, barely touching her brows. Tendrils curled against her temples, softening the natural angularity of her features. Smoothing the cotton blouse, she hurriedly left her spacious bedroom, furnished entirely in bamboo pieces, and skipped down the stairs. Gib stood when Dany entered the veranda. She looked fetching in the simple skirt and blouse, incredibly beautiful and fresh. His smile deepened when he realized she was still barefoot. "You're a country girl at heart," he teased, stepping over to the table and offering her a glass of iced tea. Smiling shyly, Dany sat down. "Thank you." She drank half the glass of tea thirstily-or had she done it out of nerves? Somehow Gib made her wildly aware

of herself as a woman. Gib took a seat opposite her at the table and opened his briefcase, taking out a number of papers and a pen. "How are you doing since the funeral?" he asked. Sitting back in the bamboo chair, Dany drew up one leg beneath the voluminous skirt. "I have good days and bad days," she answered simply. "It'll cycle like that for about three months." Her mouth twitched. "Don't say that." Pointing to her eyes, Dany added, "Look at my dark circles. I've had nothing but broken sleep and nightmares since it happened." With a frustrated sound, she said, "There's too much work here that demands my attention. I can't keep going on like this." "You wake up tired and go to sleep tired," Gib guessed softly. The urge to reach out and fold Dany into his arms was tangible. She looked so young, seemingly untouched by the war that escalated daily around her. "Yes," Dany said. She managed a small smile. "The work keeps me from thinking... feeling, I guess." Hearing the raw pain in her voice, he lifted his head and held her sincere gaze. "Grief does funny things to us," he agreed. Dany set the glass on the table. She tried to remind herself that he was a Marine, someone who posed a threat to the plantation and her people. Just as she was going to speak, she heard a young boy calling her name as he ran around the corner of the house. It was Hanh Vinh, Ma Ling's twelve-year-old grandson. Gib heard the high, excited call and turned in his seat. A skinny young boy dressed in a pair of faded cutoffs and a white T-shirt, his straight black hair cut in a bowl fashion, came galloping up the stairs. "Missy Dany, Missy Dany! Look what I found!" Vinh called excitedly. His brown eyes widened at the sight of Gib, and he jerked to a halt. "It's all right, Vinh," Dany said kindly. "This is Major Ramsey. He's here to investigate my mother's death." She spoke slowly to him in English, as she often did. Dany wanted her workers to be fluent not only in their own language, but-English and French as well. Vinh flushed, dodged around Gib and proudly marched over to Dany. "Look what I found!" With a cry of delight, Dany reached out toward Vinh. "A kitten?" "Yes, I found it crying along our fence line where I was clearing some brush. Look at it! Look at the color. I've decided to call him Milky, because he is the color of milk." Dany gently took the kitten into her hands and cradled it against her breast. She glanced over at Gib and saw genuine interest and compassion in his face. "This little one can't be more than four or five weeks old, Vinh." "May I keep him, Missy Dany?" the boy begged, clasping his hands together. "Please? I promise, I will take great care of him." Dany examined the white kitten, then said wryly, "Sweetheart, I think your

kitten isn't a him, but a her." Vinh's eyes widened. "Yes?" "It's a girl." "Well, is that not good?" Petting the scruffy little kitten, who obviously was starving, Dany smiled into Vinh's eyes. "It means that when she grows up, she can have babies." Vinh shrugged dramatically, flashing her a winsome smile. "We need cats to chase and kill the rats!" Returning the kitten to Vinh, Dany laughed. "Yes, we do need some mousers." She gave him a stern look. "You promise to take very good care of Milky?" Clutching the kitten to his chest, the boy bobbed his head several times. "Yes! A thousand yeses, Missy Dany! I will see that Milky is fed, and I will find a comb for her white fur. I will take her with me everywhere I go. She will fit nicely in my pocket here." He patted his cutoffs. "In fact, she can help me clear brush along the fence! Then I will draw pictures of her!" Struggling to hide a smile, Dany maintained her serious expression. "You have many duties, Vinh. You go to school, you have your art instruction once a week and daily art assignments to fulfill. Are you sure you can discipline yourself enough to also take care of this little kitten?" Vinh's face turned sincere as he gently petted the kitten now purring noisily in his slender hands. "I will take care of Milky as if she were my sister." "Then you may keep her," Dany said, finally allowing her smile to surface. "Ask Ma Ling if she will favor your kitten with some fresh cow's milk and some soft food." Vinh rushed over to Dany, threw his skinny arm around her neck and gave her a wet kiss on the cheek. "I love you so much, Missy Dany! Thank you!" Dany embraced him gently, not wanting to squish the kitten he held so carefully. "And I love you, too." Vinh beamed and backed off. He gave Gib a long, curious look as if he wanted to say something to him, but shyness overcame him. Ma Ling appeared silently at the screen door and allowed him into the foyer, her face stern. Dany smiled up at her mamasan. Ma Ling's eyes danced with amusement, but her face remained stonelike. After peace returned to the veranda, Dany looked over at Gib. The expression on his face touched her heart. "You're a soft touch," he teased, his voice husky. With a shrug, Dany sipped the iced tea. "Vinh has favored status around here," she told him conspiratorially. "He's such a bright young boy, and a wonderful artist! You should see his tempera paintings. When he was seven, I caught him in his hut drawing, and I was amazed at his talent. He's Ma Ling's grandson, so I asked her if she thought he might do well to have art lessons. She agreed. I discovered a retired art professor who lives in Da Nang and I drive

Vinh up to see him once a week." Gib smiled. "He's a nice kid. And he knows how to get his way with you." Dany laughed for the first time. "These people are my extended family, Major. I could never turn them down on something they really needed or wanted. Over the years, five children have grown up, gone to the university in Saigon and now have professional lives. I'm proud of what we do to help them." "You treat your people the way we do ours back on our family ranch in Texas," Gib said. "Our manager is from Mexico, and we've helped put his six kids through school." Dany tilted her head. "And is everyone in your family a farmer?" She liked the idea that Gib was ultimately a man of the land. "Yes and no. Jim, my younger brother, joined the Marines and followed in my footsteps. He's scheduled to fly F-4 Phantoms out of Tan Son Nhut in five months, right after I rotate out of here. Travis is a year younger than Jim, and he's a navy doctor currently stationed at Norfolk, Virginia. I understand he's trying to volunteer to get over to Nam, but the navy's telling him that only one military member of a family can be in a combat zone at a time, so I don't know if he'll make it. My sister, Tess, is over here as a U.S. AID specialist and works with three villages not far from here. She's in a civilian capacity, so the military rule doesn't apply. The family kinda broke up after Mama died. Our foreman, Miguel Ferrari and his wife, Vivi, take care of the place in our absence." "Will you ever go back to them and ranching?" Gib shrugged. "When my six years were up, I could have gone back to ranching. But flying helicopters got into my blood. I decided to put in my twenty years with the corps, instead." Something hopeful shattered inside of Dany. If Gib loved flying and the Marines that much, there would be no place in his personal life for the land. Or for someone like her. The thought was crazy in the first place, Dany chided herself. "You like what you do?" At the puzzlement obvious in her eyes, Gib guessed what she was really asking. "I like flying. I don't necessarily like war, Dany." Relief cascaded through her. "I think war is horrible," she said. "It's wrong. I don't care what the politics or the reasons are. Taking another human life is unconscionable." Gib toyed with the pen in his hands. "How do you feel about it?" Dany demanded. "I believe in defending freedom, Dany. Communism is overrunning Vietnam. If we can make a difference for the people here, I feel it's worth it. If I didn't think so, I wouldn't have volunteered for a second tour." "But you fly a gunship, designed for killing." He met and held her accusing green gaze. "I see my aircraft as a way to protect the ARVNs and Marines on the ground," he said softly. "To defend a village against an attacking VC or NVA force, or a MASH unit that's under fire, is okay in my book. A gunship is an offensive weapon, but it's also a

defensive one." She shuddered. "You don't look like you enjoy killing." "I don't. Most men don't." "How can you live with it, then?" His mouth twitched with pain. "Some nights I don't sleep well," he admitted. "I lie awake justifying what I do. I try to look at the positives of the situation, at the lives I've saved by being the intervening force, not the lives I've taken." His eyebrows dipped and he studied the pen. "I don't enjoy it, if that's what you think. I don't like taking a life. But I also won't allow the lives of innocent people, civilian or military, to be taken, either. Not if I can help it." Dany heard the underlying anguish in his tone. There was a hidden vulnerability to Gib Ramsey, a surprising layer that she wouldn't have expected to find in a man of war. The look of torture in his eyes when he talked about his sleepless nights tore at her heart. "Perhaps," Dany ventured, "you'll find healing with the land if you go back to ranching." She stared out the screen toward the avenue of silk trees lining the drive. "If I'm upset or worried, I can always sink my hands into the earth and feel so much better. If I work with the earth for an hour or so, I feel whatever is bothering me go away." She smiled gently. "You understand what I mean, don't you?" "Better than most," Gib agreed. "The land has been good to six generations of Ramseys. Me and my siblings were the only generation to leave the land in favor of something else-although Tess is an agricultural specialist in rice development. She's the only one of the four of us who stayed in touch with the land." The tenuous, invisible bond that joined them was there, alive and wonderfully joyous. Dany absorbed Gib's presence like land starved for sunlight. "I feel women have always had a closer tie with the earth," she said wistfully. "The earth is like a mother to all of us. She clothes us, feeds us, keeps us alive with her air and gives us her water to drink. I look at the soil as if it were alive and breathing in my hands." "You'd like Vivi Ferrari, our foreman's wife. She has very strong feelings about the earth being alive, too." "Still," Dany said firmly, "the soil is in your blood. Why you traded the solidity of earth beneath your feet for wings to fly in the sky is beyond me." She smiled. Her smile, blinding sunlight, went straight through Gib's heart. "Who knows? I might get out someday, go back and become a Texas rancher, carrying on the family tradition." Dany shifted in her chair. She didn't want their time together to end, but she felt the invisible pressure of Binh Duc. She knew Gib had stayed too long already. Gib saw her discomfort and realized he was overstaying his welcome. "Look, I'd like to talk to some of your villagers, if you don't mind." "About the mine? They won't know anything."

With a shrug, Gib said, "I've got to do this for the investigation, Dany." In spite of her concern, Dany was very much aware that Gib had used her first name instead of maintaining formality. "I-oh, all right. It won't do any good, but if you must, go ahead." Gib heard the hurt in her voice, and again the fear in her lovely green eyes was banked. "I'll make this information gathering as quick and painless as possible," he promised, getting to his feet. "I just wish the investigation would end." Gib didn't want to lose contact with her, he discovered. "Look, maybe we can wrap this up somewhere else after today," he suggested. Hope shone in her eyes. "Tell me how." "Have lunch with me next week. I know a nice little French restaurant in Da Nang. We can handle any last questions I have there." Dany stood. She wanted to explore Gib on a more personal level. Yet she knew she didn't dare get involved with an American Marine. Her mother had most likely been killed for just such an act. "I-" "I'll meet you in civilian clothes," Gib teased. "If anyone sees us, you can tell them I'm a missionary or something." She laughed. "You? A missionary?" Gib tried to look innocent. "Why not?" Dany's heart lightened, if but for a moment. "Your eyes are a dead giveaway, Major. You'd never make it." "Call me Gib. Please." Sobering, Dany avoided the sudden narrowing of those eyes, and the smoldering quality they aimed solely at her. She shrugged nervously, trying to ignore the sudden, euphoric warmth cascading through her. "All right, lunch. But it must be all business, Maj-I mean, Gib." "Purely business," he promised huskily. Dany's use of his first name made him feel as if he'd just won the greatest prize of his life. The whole thing was crazy, he thought, as he followed her through the house toward the village to the rear. His head screamed at him to be wary of Dany, that she still could be on the side of the VC. But the poignant moments he'd witnessed between her and Vinh and her openness with Gib had dissolved a great deal of his concern in that direction. Happy and unsettled at the same time, Gib wondered where the hell his sudden luncheon invitation had sprung from. The only explanation he had was that it had come from his heart.

Chapter Four Dany nervously smoothed her aquaMarine-colored silk ao dai, the traditional dress of Vietnamese women, as she moved along the sidewalk in the city of Da Nang. She was running late for her luncheon appointment with Gib. Major Ramsey, Dany sternly corrected herself. Her heartbeat wouldn't steady. Every time she thought of Gib, her world dissolved and she found herself immersed in

a sea of feelings and longings. The humid wind blew gently off the sea, the salt air combining with motorbike pollution and the smell from cooking pots being stirred by street vendors. Color mixed with sounds as motorbikes spiked the air with their noise, speeding around the slower, human-pedaled bikes and bicycle rickshaws. Overhead, several dark green Marine helicopters sped through the fleecy clouds toward some unknown destination. GIs walked along the street, their arms hung around the shoulders of their Vietnamese girlfriends, who wore mini skirts and knee-high plastic boots. Dany's heart went out to these women. She knew the poverty they lived in. They were young women who had artlessly fallen in love with Americans. Dany ached to tell them that their dreams of love or a better future wouldn't come true with any American soldier. In a year or less, that GI would be gone, the woman left behind-more than likely pregnant-without any means of support, her dreams in fragments. At the French restaurant La Nouvelle France, Dany hesitated. Wrought-iron designs and blue curtains framed each window of the quaint, white stucco structure, and just inside she could see Gib sitting at a linen-draped table. She walked through the tall wrought-iron fence-a physical as well as symbolic warning to those who could not afford the cuisine. Her pulse skyrocketed momentarily, and she compressed her lips. How handsome Gib looked in his khaki slacks and light blue shirt. He turned, met her gaze, Dany's heart pounded once to underscore the heat she saw in his eyes. Still, his smile seemed shy, almost boyish. Gib stood and pulled out a chair across from his own as Dany entered the busy restaurant. As the maitre d' led her over to his table, Gib couldn't tear his gaze from her. Dany's hair was free, a rippling ebony curtain framing her face and providing a mantle about her shoulders. The ao dai she wore clung to every curve of her body, outlining it, the panels moving like wind around and between her long, thoroughbred legs clothed in white silk trousers. The flush to her cheeks, the clear green of her eyes and her breathless appearance rendered Gib momentarily speechless. "I'm sorry I'm late," Dany apologized. She sat down, wildly aware of Gib's presence behind her, his long, large-knuckled fingers draped casually over the back of her chair. Gib took a deep, ragged breath as he seated Dany, then sat down opposite her. "I just got here myself. We're both running late." he smiled and held her shy gaze. "You look beautiful." His husky compliment flowed through her. "Thank you." "If someone didn't look twice, they'd think you were Vietnamese or Eurasian." "I'll take that as a compliment." Gib noticed the envious looks around him. "Believe me, it's a compliment. There isn't a Marine in here that isn't jealous of me sitting here with you." With a frown, Dany eased the bulky straw purse off her shoulder and placed it beside her chair. Looking around, she saw a number of Marines sitting with Vietnamese women. "GI love affairs are only for the naive," she muttered. Gib moved uncomfortably. "What do you mean?"

"I've seen too many of the young girls from our village fall in love with American advisors. The men lie to the girls, tell them what they want to hear-that it's true love. Inevitably, they talk the girls into going to bed with them. The girls get pregnant, and, at the end of their allotted time here, the GIs go back to America." Her voice lowered with feeling. "The girls, of course, are left behind to support a half-American child." Taking a drink of iced tea, Gib nodded. "I can't dispute what you've said." "I see it happen all the time," Dany said sadly. Gib slowly turned the cool, sweat-beaded glass between his hands. He glanced over at Dany. "What if you fell in love with an American?'' Her mouth pulled into a pained line. "What? And have him leave a year later? No, thanks. I don't call that love." Gib nodded. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he entertained the thought of Dany becoming an integral part of his world. Swallowing against his disappointment, he murmured, "It's not love when a man runs out on his woman." "The American GIs do it all the time, Gib." "Most, but not all," he countered gently. Wanting to drop the topic, he motioned to a rolled-up piece of paper sticking out of her purse. "What's that? A set of blueprints?" He grinned. "Not quite." She smiled, relieved at the change of subject. Dany didn't want to admit even to herself that she wondered what it would be like to have a relationship with Gib. Anyway, she knew the inevitable result, abandonment. She was truly alone in the world now, and it was much safer to stay that way. Retrieving the paper, Dany felt heat flood her face as she handed it to Gib. "Vinh made this for you. Even though you visited in civilian clothes, he knew you were a Marine pilot. He's fascinated with helicopters. Go on, look at what he drew for you." Dany sat back to watch Gib's face as he unrolled the drawing. His expression changed from initial surprise to obvious pleasure. A warmth stole through her as his very male mouth curved in a smile. "I'll be darned. This is good! Very good." Gib held up the drawing made with pastel chalk, inspecting it closely. Vinh had drawn a Sirkorsky helicopter like Gib's, flying against a pale pink sky with the many colors of the jungle below it. In the lower left-hand corner, the boy had painstakingly printed his full name, the date and his country. "I can't believe his talent," Gib uttered in awe. "His attention to detail is incredible. Look at this-" He turned the drawing around and laid it out on the linen-covered table. Joy coursed through Dany as Gib flushed with obvious delight. "I told you Vinh was artistic. Isn't he wonderful? He's never seen one of your helicopters up close-just flying over the plantation." "The kid's got a set of eagle eyes," Gib said ruefully. He rolled up the drawing with care and set it beside him. "Tell him thank-you for me, will you?" Dany held his gaze. "You won't throw it away?" Taken aback, Gib said, "Of course not. I intend to mail it to the ranch. My

foreman's wife, Vivi, will take good care of it until I get home." "Oh...good." Dany gave a small, apologetic shrug. "I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that I know Vinh will ask me what you thought of his drawing and what you'll do with it." "I intend to have it matted and framed," Gib promised. "Vinh's something special." "He likes you." "Really? All he did when he walked out on the veranda was stare at me from time to time." "He was too shy to talk to you. He told me later he had a million questions to ask you about flying a helicopter." With a chuckle, Gib reached out and touched Dany's hand. It wasn't something he'd thought about; the gesture was instinctive, guided by his heart. Her skin felt cool and moist from the air conditioning. It was a hand used to working the soil on a daily basis, he thought. He looked up and saw Dany's eyes, widened in shock at his gesture, so he gently released her fingers. Shaken by his own lack of control, Gib said, "I've got an idea. How about if I take you and Vinh down on our flight line? I'll let him get in the helo, show him around." "When?" "Now. Today. I'm not scheduled to fly this afternoon, so we could drive over to your plantation after we're done eating and pick up Vinh." The complete intimacy of Gib's touch, the enthusiasm and excitement in his deep Texas drawl, moved her as nothing else could. "Well..." Dany struggled for a response. "I-" "Vinh deserves to be rewarded," Gib said seriously. He badly wanted Dany to agree to his plan. He was being selfish: he didn't want his time with Dany to end. Her senses dizzied by Gib's touch, Dany groped for a way to turn down his invitation. His smile deepened, and she lost herself in his warm hazel gaze. Then she forced herself to look down, sensing he knew his effect on her. Mouth dry, Dany whispered, "I suppose..." "I don't want to compromise your neutrality." Dany shook her head. A huge part of her, the woman who'd been alone all her life, wanted desperately to remain in his company. Her head warned her that taking Vinh to the Marine base was a dangerous decision that could eventually affect her tentative neutrality with Binh Duc. Dany struggled to smile. "Vinh would be overjoyed." Gib tasted immediate relief. "And you?" "Anything having to do with war, with killing, makes me uncomfortable." Disappointed, Gib understood. "Maybe I could drop by and pick up Vinh?" Gib would have preferred taking both of them to the base, but he respected Dany too much to give into his own selfish need.

A sadness enveloped Dany. For a fleeting moment, she wanted his touch so badly. "Since Maman's passing, Vinh has been like a little man about the house. He's trying to fill in her shoes and be responsible for helping me in so many small ways. I know he'd love to go with you and see your helicopter." "Great." Gib tried to hide his personal disappointment. He saw the waiter coming toward them to take their order and smiled over at Dany. "Hungry?" The hunger gnawing at Dany wasn't something that could be sated with food. She gave a small smile. "Perhaps a salad, some French bread and a glass of red wine?" Gib nodded to the waiter. "I'll have the same," he said. As he returned his attention to her, he was struck again by her earthy beauty. Dany wore no makeup, yet her golden skin shone like subdued sunlight, her black curtain of hair reminding him of the velvet jungle darkness and her sea green eyes were warm with invitation. Swallowing, he said, "Speaking of your mother, I thought you'd like to know what I've found out so far." The tension between them snapped. Dany took a long, uneven breath. Her voice was strained when she spoke. "What have you found out?" "It appears on the surface that Binh Duc is responsible." Gib kept his voice low so no one could hear their conversation. He saw Dany go very still, a flash of anger in her narrowed eyes. "Constable Jordan has an informant who told him about Binh Duc's involvement. Apparently, the informant is a double agent loyal to the ARVN who pretends to be a VC in order to gather information." "Duc did this?" Dany choked out the words. Her hands knotted into fists beneath the tablecloth. "I'm not a hundred percent certain," Gib cautioned, "but Jordan seems to feel this agent can be trusted. Still, we don't have solid proof.'' Sheer anger, hatred and frustration thrummed through Dany. "Duc promised to be neutral!" Wanting to ease the anguish in Dany's eyes and strangled voice, Gib eased one of her hands from her lap and placed it on the table. Gently, he squeezed her small, knotted fist. "Listen, Dany, as much as I wish you could maintain neutrality, it just isn't going to be possible. From what I can deduce about Duc, he must have known about your mother's relationship with the general. Duc probably saw it as consorting with the enemy and set up the land mine." Gib saw Dany tuck her lower lip between her teeth. "I'm sorry," he said as tears glimmered in her eyes. Searching for and finding his handkerchief in his back pocket, Gib drew it out and pressed it into her hand. '' Here,'' he whispered. "Th-thank you." Dany blotted her eyes, unable to meet Gib's concerned gaze for a long time. "Maybe it would help if you talked to someone about your mother," Gib suggested. "It might ease the hurt and grief you're carrying." Dany shook her head. Searching for some way to assuage her grief, Gib said softly, "When my mama died, I felt just like you. She died unexpectedly, too. I'd just graduated and

gotten my pilot's wings. I came home on leave. You have to understand that celebrations in Texas are a big deal. Mama had been slaving away for a week in advance of my coming home. She was fixing the biggest Texas barbecue the state had ever seen." "I came home wearing my new Marine uniform and silver wings." His voice lowered with a wealth of memories. "Mama was at the station waiting for me when I got off the bus. So were my brothers and sister. I stepped off, and Mama threw her arms around me and started to cry, she was so proud." Self-consciously, Gib added, "Mama never cried, so it really shook me up. I remember her crying only once before in all those years, and that's when Daddy died. No matter how bad things got for us around the ranch after that, she never broke down." He smiled fondly. "I started crying, too, right there in the middle of the bus station. In fact, when I looked up, there wasn't a dry eye in the whole family. Mama told me she was crying for happiness this time, not sadness. My Daddy had been a Marine during World War II-she'd been a nurse when she met him-so it meant a lot to her that I'd become a Marine." Gib saw Dany's expression soften, some of her grief dissolving with his admission. He'd never shared this painful part of his life with anyone, but he forged on. "We started celebrating as soon as I got home to the ranch. Mama had invited half the town of Midland to the barbecue the next day. It was quite an affair. I was helping put the meat on the platters when I saw Mama faint at the back door of the kitchen. Tess saw it, too, because she was in the kitchen helping Mama with the serving chores, but I was the first to reach her." Closing his eyes, the pain suddenly as sharp as the day it happened, Gib whispered, "She died of a heart attack right in my arms. When the ambulance arrived, Tess and I rode with her to the hospital. In the emergency room, the nurses made us wait in the visitor's lounge. We all stood around knowing Mama was gone." "How awful," Dany choked. "Yeah," Gib agreed rawly. "The doc came out later and told us what we already knew. Mama was dead. We stood there and cried in one another's arms. At least," Gib said, holding Dany's tear-filled gaze, "we had one another. You had no one-even while your parents were alive, judging from those photos on the walls of your house. It didn't look like you were a part of your parents' life.'' The truth hurt. Dany bowed her head, her painful past boiling up at Gib's admission. "Maman was...well...her career meant everything to her." Gently, Gib reached over and cradled her hand in his. "Tell me about it." Dany hadn't cried since the funeral, but now tears dribbled down her cheeks. They touched her lips, and she tasted the salt. "The truth was," she said, the tears belying her seeming calm, "my mother was a B-movie starlet. She had two small roles, exactly five minutes on the screen for each, before my father 'discovered' her. He fell in love with the image my mother projected." Rubbing her brow, Dany muttered, "I'm sure this sounds terrible because she's dead now." "No," Gib answered softly, "I'd rather know the truth. It doesn't mean you loved your mother any less, Dany." Dany squeezed her eyes shut, a wall of pain pushing up through her chest. The

urge to throw herself into Gib's arms and be held-just for a little while-was nearly overpowering. "I wish," she began hoarsely, "that Maman loved me as much as I loved her." And then she opened her eyes and met Gib's heart-meltingly warm gaze. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" "Sure it does." "You're the first person who ever noticed that I'm not in any of those photos." "It tells me you've led a pretty lonely life." With a weak shrug, Dany said, "I didn't figure into my parents' marriage, or their fantasy world. They lived a wonderful life of glamour, and the fantasy didn't include a baby. My mother told me when I was twelve that she'd had three abortions in the first four years of their marriage because they didn't want children for a while. I remember thinking at that time I wasn't really wanted either, that I was just a shadow, an addendum, to their life." "Not a part of it," Gib agreed, absorbing the cutting edge of her pain at her parents' abandonment. Dany wiped the tears away with his handkerchief and gave him a wobbly smile. "I was born in that house, up on the second floor. Ma Ling was my mother's maid. Our homeopathic doctor, Dr. Perot, delivered me. My mother refused to breast-feed me because she was afraid it would hurt her figure. Ma Ling had just had a daughter of her own, so she wet-nursed me." Gib held on to his unraveling feelings. His desire to protect Dany, to give her a haven where she could get some rest and lean on someone for just a little while, was an ache within him. "Ma Ling was my real mother in many ways," Dany admitted, turning the wineglass around between his fingers. "She was the one person who really loved me. I spent more time with her family in the village in back of the plantation than in my own home. When I was old enough to be weaned, I ate all my meals with them. By the time I was four, I spoke fluent Vietnamese and very little French. My mother rectified that situation by hiring a French teacher. She was horrified that I might turn into a little barefoot Viet brat." "She wanted to keep up family appearances," Gib agreed. The truth was, Amy Lou Villard hadn't wanted a child at all, but Gib kept that painful observation to himself. Dany had suffered enough without him adding to her pain. Sadly, Dany said, "Yes... I don't blame Maman, though. I understand my mother as few ever did. She never made it to fame in Hollywood, so my father brought her here to an 'exotic' fairy-tale land and made her queen of all she could see. Here," Dany murmured, "my mother was a famous Hollywood actress. She and my father lived that fantasy together. They were the toast of Saigon, Bangkok and Singapore. The Far East believes my mother really was a Hollywood star." "More importantly, what do you think?" "I grew up believing the same thing until I was old enough to realize the truth. My father collected things, Gib. He went to Hollywood to find himself a star for a wife, a bauble to boast about and parade around on his arm. Then he came to Vietnam, a poor, destitute French colony where family money bought him a bankrupt plantation. Using my mother's 'famous' career and the influence it brought from the gullible Vietnamese, he parlayed and wagered the plantation into working order. Eventually, the plantation's rubber trees paid off

handsomely. "Of course, my father used every opportunity to increase his power over the Saigon officials. He was as good at bribing as any Vietnamese politician and bribery is a way of life in this country. So my mother was happy because she was receiving the acclaim she never had in Hollywood. My father was equally happy because his baubles were producing more than he'd ever dreamed. Back in France, my father's relatives worshipped the ground he walked on. In their eyes, he was not only very rich, but very famous because of his American-actress wife." Gib saw the tortured look in Dany's eyes. His voice was off-key when he spoke. "It must have been hell on you." Dany shrugged. "Ma Ling knew the score from the beginning. She worked very hard to see that I was not only loved, but genuinely made to feel a part of a family-her family." Looking down at her calloused hands, Dany smiled. "Maman disowned me in many ways over the years. She often scolded Ma Ling because she'd find me barefoot and wearing ragged clothes like the rest of the village children." She lifted her hands and spread them before her. "Maman could never understand my love of the land or the people. She never did." The lump in his throat thickened, and Gib wanted to cry for Dany. He knew there was nothing he could do to change her past. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and hold her tightly for a long, long time. Every nuance in her vulnerable features shouted her need to be held. She was a woman very much alone. Gently, he squeezed her hand. "That's why Vinh means so much to you." With a nod, Dany said, "He's my family, like a baby brother..." That you never had. Gib bit back the words. He stroked her work-worn hand. "He's a lucky little kid, but I think he knows that." Wanting to lighten the somber mood, he teased, "Who's the lucky man in your life right now?" He held his breath, afraid of her possible answer. Wrinkling her nose, Dany said, "There isn't one. A few close calls over the years, but nothing serious. Frankly, I've found very few men who understand the hard work and time it takes to run a plantation. If they love me, they must love the land. It's not a negotiable thing." Inwardly, Gib relaxed at hearing there was no man in Dany's life. God help him, but he wanted to be a part of her life. Dany didn't want their time together to end, but she always felt the invisible pressure of Binh Duc's spies, who were everywhere, she knew. Their salads had somehow been eaten, their wine drunk as they'd talked. "As much as I wish we could spend more time talking, I think we ought to go," Dany said, suddenly becoming fully and tensely conscious of her surroundings. "You're worried about us being seen together?" "Yes. I'm sorry..." And she was. She had been given a glimpse of the man beneath the uniform, unashamedly an American, a rancher who loved the soil with a fierceness equal to her own. Dany realized she could no longer hold her instinctive feelings for Gib at bay with her original wall of reasons. The gentle curve of his mouth, the warmth in his eyes-all conspired against her, and she ached to know much more about the man who sat opposite her. She found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss Gib. His mouth was strong, yet

promised a tenderness she longed to explore. Shaken by her wishful side-that passion of her sometimes torrid that she would never experience over here to do a job, and then that in time she, too, would be fleeting, fond memory.

side that went unfulfilled except in the dark dreams-Dany knew with a bittersweet acceptance Gib's kiss. He was one of thousands of GIs leave forever. She tried to convince her heart left behind, nothing better than perhaps a

Gib paid the waiter in piasters and rose to his feet. He saw the emotions coursing over Dany's readable features. Longing and desire burned in her green eyes, yet a sadness lingered there, too. What was she thinking? God help him, but every cell of his being wanted to hold her, to kiss her exquisite mouth. As he moved behind her to help her with her chair, the lily-of-the-valley scent of her perfume enveloped him. Dizzied by her closeness, Gib inhaled the perfume and her warm body scent. A man denied far too long the gentler, womanly side of life, he hungered to explore Dany as only a man could explore the woman he needed at his side. "Did you take a taxi into Da Nang?" he asked as he drew her chair back. Shaken by Gib's nearness, Dany stood, clenching her straw purse. "Yes." "Good. I'll drive you back in my friend's Citroen, and then we'll find Vinh, so I can take him to the base for a close look at the helo he drew for me."

At the plantation, Gib sauntered into the room where the Hollywood pictures hung. Dany had called for Ma Ling, but the old Vietnamese maid had gone to Da Nang to shop. "Where's Vinh?" Dany asked the young girl who had answered her call. "He's out back with the gardener, removing weeds from the flower garden at the property line." "Could you go get him?" Dany asked. The girl nodded, looked at Gib with big eyes and left. When they were alone, Gib turned and moved to Dany. Without thinking, he reached out and laid his hand on her small shoulder. He felt the clean silk of her hair. Wonderment flared in Dany's eyes at his touch, and Gib saw longing in them, not revulsion or denial. She welcomed his touch, he realized. No, she desired it. "I liked our time together," he said huskily. "Sharing even one afternoon with you is like some crazy, wonderful dream come true." A corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. Dany turned toward him and stepped closer. Much closer. Her special fragrance teased him again, and Gib groaned inwardly as her lips parted. Whatever words he'd been about to utter died in his tightened throat. He caressed the line of her shoulder with his fingertips, feeling the sleek silk of her aquamarine ao dai. The sensation that pounded through him was as startling as it was heated and alive. The sea green of her eyes darkened and grew lustrous as he continued the searching caress. Gib moved closer until only inches separated them, a powerful, swirling sensation gripping him until only Dany existed in his narrowed world of fire, need and hunger-all wrapped into an aching storm building rapidly within him.

Dany's breath lodged in her throat as Gib lifted his hand from her shoulder. His fingers grazed her cheek, and she felt them tremble. The tingling sensation stole her breath, and she raised her lashes to meet and hold his burning hazel gaze, narrowed and intent. And yet, as she drowned in the brilliant green, gold and brown of his eyes, Dany felt like the most cherished possession on Earth. Gib was going to kiss her. She saw it in his eyes, felt his hand gently cup her cheek and lift her chin scant inches upward to meet his descending mouth. A ribbon of hunger burst through her, surprising and powerful. Never had she felt as desired as she did this heated, suspended moment. A sigh of surrender escaped her parted lips as she stretched upward, her palms coming to rest lightly against his chest. Her movement was the most elemental and natural reaction in the world to her. Suddenly the war ceased to exist. The danger that always swirled around her disappeared, and for this one exquisite moment she stepped outside of time and reality. Dany tasted a hunger for Gib that she'd never experienced with any man. Dany felt the powerful beat of his heart beneath her palms. The tension in him, as if he were fighting for control as he leaned down to capture her lips, enveloped her. She whispered his name, a prayer answered, a dream come to life, and she closed her eyes, a heartbeat from tasting the glorious pressure of his mouth against hers. A tremendous explosion from the back of the plantation jerked Dany away from Gib. Gib gripped her arm as the after-shudder of the explosion reverberated through the house. "Oh, my God!" Dany cried, "Another mine!" She wrenched from Gib's grip and ran toward the back door.

Chapter Five Dany's eyes widened in shock as she tore down the steps of the plantation house. There, on the edge of the lawn near the flower garden, was a cavernous hole in the ground, created by a land mine. To the side of the freshly churned red earth, nine of her workers were crying and screaming as they crowded around a small body in the crater. "Vinh!" Dany cried as she stumbled forward. A scream careened within Dany's head as she raced forward. Gib passed her easily, and the workers parted to make way for him. Vinh was crying out, rolling around in the bottom of the depression. Gib leaped into the crater and knelt next to the boy. Nausea struck Dany hard as she followed Gib. Vinh's right arm was missing, torn off in the explosion. Gib caught hold of Vinh, who was out of his mind with pain and in deep shock. He turned to Dany, his face hard. "I need a tourniquet. Fast!" Dany nodded jerkily and ripped at the bottom of her ao dai, the silk giving way with a sickening sound. Her hands shaking badly, Dany handed the strip of silk to Gib.

"Hold him down," Gib ordered, his voice rough with emotion. Dany watched with huge eyes as Gib expertly wrapped and tightened the silk around Vinh's upper arm, the bleeding slowing to a trickle almost immediately. "Call Dr. Perot!" Dany cried to the peasants. Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision as she worked her way around to Vinh's other side, opposite where Gib knelt. Dany felt the steadying grip of Gib's hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, her world stabilized as she glanced over at him. "No," Gib rasped. "Don't call a local doctor. I'll get Vinh medevaced to the base. The two-way radio's in the car. You stay with the boy and I'll go get it. All right?" Dany was deathly pale, and Gib was afraid she was going to faint. Vinh moaned and Gib transferred the boy from his embrace to Dany's arms. "Y-yes, make the call. Hurry! Please, hurry!" With a nod, Gib jumped to his feet. Now he was in combat mode. He felt absolutely nothing, adrenaline pouring through his bloodstream, his senses hyperalert, his mind functioning like a nerveless computer. He made his way through the many Vietnamese workers and ran around the side of the house to the driveway where the yellow Citroen sat. Jerking open the door, he stretched across the seat and reached for the opening on the glove box. His hands trembling, Gib drew out the radio. After making the call, he ran back around the house. The faces of the Vietnamese farmers mirrored his own inner feelings. His heart pounding in his chest, Gib took in Dany's pale, distraught features as he drew near. She was cradling Vinh in her arms, the peasants weeping openly around them as they crowded close to the crater in pandemonium. Putting the radio aside, Gib leaned over. "Let me take him," he told her. "We've got to get him out from under the trees, Dany. The medevac's on its way. They'll need a clearing to land in." Dany looked up, her eyes fraught with anguish. "This is my fault!" she sobbed, "My fault/" "No way, honey. Now, come on, let me have the boy. You've done all you can for him." Gib moved her gently to one side then picked up the now unconscious Vinh. Dany staggered to her feet, numb with guilt. She stumbled along after Gib as he carried Vinh to the clearing on the northern side of the house. It was her fault Vinh had stepped on that mine. This was Binh Duc's work! As she placed her hand across her mouth, trying to control her sobbing, Dany knew she had to meet the VC leader face-to-face. Was Duc declaring war on them? Oh, why had she allowed Gib to come back even once? Duc had known. Duc had been told! Her mind spun with tragedy over Vinh's lost arm, and what his parents and Ma Ling would do once they found out about his injury. How would Dany ever break the news to them? There would be such grieving. Dany watched in a daze as Gib gently lowered Vinh to the lawn. In the distance, she could hear the whap, whap, whap of helicopter blades cutting thickly through the afternoon's high humidity as it sped closer. Dany knelt near Vinh, the boy growing semi-conscious again. He didn't cry out, and his eyes were glazed over. He was going into deep shock from loss of blood, Dany realized. Gripping Vinh's thinly clad shoulder, she leaned over,

telling him to hang on, that help was on its way. She knew that with Gib's intervention, Vinh had a real chance of being saved. As she looked up, she was startled by the look on Gib's sweaty, strained features. His eyes were marred with pain, his mouth a slash against what he was feeling. He was no less affected and touched by Vinh's tragic wound than she was. Kneeling there, Dany realized in some small part of her functioning mind, that Gib had told her the truth: He didn't enjoy killing. It was a necessary part of his world, but not something he wanted to do. Even now, as he crouched down on one knee, his hand resting on Vinh's other shoulder to steady and reassure the boy, Dany knew he was suffering. Serrating guilt jagged through Dany in those minutes before the green helicopter landed, a big red cross against a field of white painted on its broad nose. She'd allowed Gib back on Villard soil, and Duc had somehow found out. Forcing back her tears, Dany tried to muster a reassuring smile for Vinh's sake. Now an innocent young boy had paid for her foolish travesty, her selfishness. If Vinh lived, he would be crippled for life. He'd never become the wonderful artist they all had dreamed he would. Oh, God, how was she going to live with herself? As the medevac landed, the air around it turned to buffeting turbulence. Everyone bowed their heads, holding onto their bamboo hats and bracing themselves as the wind kicked up by the helicopter blades became invisible fists, pummeling them without relief. Gib gently picked up Vinh and pressed him protectively against his chest. He crouched and bent his head, moving toward the helicopter. As the crewman hopped out to help load the boy onto a waiting stretcher in the cabin, Gib hesitated. When he'd transferred Vinh, Gib hurried from the helicopter to where Dany stood, her arms wrapped tightly against her body. Her face looked ravaged as he gripped her arms, worried that she might buckle beneath the strain of the crisis. "I've got to go," he shouted above the roar of the machine. When she nodded that she understood, he added, "I'll call you as soon as I know anything about Vinh. I'll be in touch, Dany, I promise." The urge to embrace her and kiss the anguished line of her mouth nearly unstrung Gib. But instead he squeezed her hand and quickly moved back beneath the copter's whirling blades. They were finishing securing the boy to the stretcher. Time, Gib knew, was of the essence with a wound like this. He jogged and climbed aboard. Within seconds, the engines shrieked at a higher pitch, blades whirling faster and faster as the aircraft broke contact with the earth. The sliding door was slammed shut and locked. There was little Gib could do except stay out of the way as the corpsman worked furiously over the boy. Vinh was given an IV to help stabilize him, then covered with several blankets. As they roared skyward, the group below grew smaller and smaller. Gib's attention centered suddenly on Dany. What did she mean this incident was her fault. What had she been babbling about? Worriedly, Gib crouched against the rear bulkhead of the helicopter as it made a banking turn toward Da Nang. It would be a swift ride to the nearest MASH unit inside the perimeter of the huge base. The boy would get the best medical care available. Gib ached inwardly, poignantly recalling the drawing Vinh had made for him. It was still rolled up in the yellow Citroen back at Dany's plantation. Gib couldn't rationalize what had happened to Vinh. He was an innocent child who'd been caught in the crossfire of a lousy war that had no well-defined territorial lines. And he'd lost his right hand and arm, the ones he drew his beautiful pictures with. Maybe it was just as well the youth had

lost consciousness again, Gib thought grimly. Who was going to tell the boy he'd lost his arm? Sadness moved through Gib as he sat on the nylon seat, the helicopter shaking and shuddering around him with the engine's deafening sound. Vinh had loved helicopters, but what a hell of a way to get a ride in one, Gib thought bitterly. His mind whirled with questions and no answers. Had his presence at Dany's plantation caused this? If so, who the hell was responsible for it? Binh Duc? Grief flowed through Gib as he sat stoically in the vibrating aircraft. Dany thought she could keep her people and land safe despite the tensions swirling like a gathering storm around her. When was she going to see the reality of the situation? There was no such thing as neutrality in Vietnam, no matter how badly she wanted it. It hurt Gib to know how much Dany must agonize over this latest incident. Seven days ago, she'd lost her mother. Now Vinh, whom she loved fiercely, was badly injured. The medevac landed on a huge black asphalt square painted with a white circle. The MASH unit tents that comprised the emergency ward came alive with activity as soon as the crewman shoved open the door. Gib remained out of the way until the team of orderlies, nurse and doctor could take Vinh out of the aircraft and place him on a gurney and wheel him toward the medical unit. Gib patted each of the pilots on the back in way of thanks for their mercy run. He shook the hand of the navy corpsman on board and nodded the same. Climbing out of the helicopter, crouching low as the rotor wash buffeted him, Gib moved quickly off the asphalt and back onto the reddish-colored sand. Da Nang was a huge, sprawling base that sat on an island. The river that ran between the island and the land mass of Vietnam was spanned by one bridge, heavily guarded by both Marines and U.S. Navy Seals. The MASH unit was on the northern edge of the base, and Gib went to the MASH administration tent to call Colonel Parsons and let him know what was going on. Helicopter squadron commanders couldn't just disappear, but if possible, Gib wanted to remain near Vinh for as long as it took, so the boy wouldn't come out of surgery without someone he knew being there for him. Gib entered the tent. The navy corpsmen on duty looked up from their respective desks and stared at him. It was then that he looked down at his shirt and realized it was smeared with Vinh's blood. Gib went to the nearest phone. When he'd squared things with Parsons for the moment, he dialed Dany's number. The phone rang and rang before it was finally picked up. "H-hello?" "Dany? It's Gib. Listen, Vinh is in good hands here at the base. He just went into surgery and I'm going to hang around until he comes out." "Then he's still alive?" Gib's heart wrenched in his chest at Dany's voice, raw with unshed tears. "Yes, honey, he's alive. The corpsman stabilized him on the way in. He's going to make it, I'm sure." "Ohh... thank God...." "Does Ma Ling know yet? Or Vinh's parents?" "Vinh's parents have been told. I'm waiting for Ma Ling. She should be home

any moment now. When can we see Vinh? Or hear about his condition?" "I just talked to the head nurse, and she said that since Vinh is a civilian, she'll see that his parents and relatives get permission to come on board and see him as soon as he's out of danger. That will be at least two or three days. I wish it could be sooner, but you're dealing with the military and we're in a wartime situation." "I understand. Then you'll be there for Vinh?" Gib closed his eyes. "Yeah, I'll be here. Maybe you could drive that Citroen back to Marble Mountain in the next week sometime, and I can get it back to my friend?" "Of course." "Good. I'll call you just as soon as Vinh's out of surgery and anesthesia. It might be a while," he warned. "Thank you, Gib. I-I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't here when it happened. You didn't have to call the medevac for help, I know that." Gib smiled wearily and leaned against the gray metal desk. "I'd do anything in the world for you. Buck up, Vinh is going to make it. How are you doing?" Gib wished with all his heart that he could be there to hold Dany. This was a second huge shock for her. Her emotions had to be in tatters. "I'm fine... fine. Gib, I have to go. Vinh's mother is distraught. She needs support right now." "I understand," Gib said. He began to truly comprehend the commitment and responsibility Dany had to her extended family. Silently, he commended her for her loyalty and love. "Listen, I'll call you as soon as I know anything." Sniffing, Dany whispered, "Thank you." Gib slowly replaced the receiver. The adrenaline rush was ebbing, leaving him shaky in its wake. The incident had triggered the same reaction in him as when he was in the cockpit flying a dangerous mission. He left the tent and headed back to the MASH unit to wait. Sooner or later, he'd return to Marble Mountain to face squadron problems and responsibilities. Rubbing his face, Gib took a ragged breath. He needed Dany just as much as she needed him right now. Yet there was a chasm between them. She saw him as a transient GI, incapable of loyalty or responsibility toward her. And deep in his heart, he knew Dany would never leave Vietnam or her land, that she was tied to it by her bitter past. Only the land had remained loyal to Dany. With a muffled curse, Gib continued to walk slowly toward the tents and helicopter landing pad. Life without war was tough enough, but with the wartime situation thrown in on top of everything else, Gib felt as if he were drowning in complexities he had no idea how to face. Maybe getting back to his squadron would help dissolve some of his present feeling of helplessness. Gib was waiting at the MASH unit two hours later when his sister, Tess, walked in. He lifted his head, feeling some of the heaviness he carried on his shoulders dissolve at the sight of her. The baby of the family, she was tall with red hair and a generous sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. "Hi," Tess greeted him worriedly. Her gray gaze immediately fell to her

brother's shirt and the blood on it. "I just heard..." Gib rose and gave her a lame smile. "How?" "I called over to your squadron and they told me you were here on a medevac emergency." Tess approached and gripped his hand momentarily, her eyes shadowed with concern. "Are you okay? You look like hell." He smiled tiredly. "I feel like hell. Come on, have a seat and I'll fill you in. Are you in from your villages for the night?" Ordinarily Tess had to be dragged from one of the three villages where she worked as a U.S. AID advisor. She hated having to stay at the military base, which was supposed to be mandatory. She would rather sleep in one of the village huts with the people she had grown to love during her past fourteen months in Vietnam. Tess smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She took a metal chair and sat next to him. "Tell me what's going on. Captain Kincaid said it had to do with a civilian casualty at the Villard plantation." Gib hung his head for a moment, then looked up at his sister. Over the next fifteen minutes, he filled Tess in on the details. "That's awful, Gib. You really like Vinh, don't you?" He snorted and stretched out his legs in front of him. Staring darkly at his loafers, he muttered, "Who wouldn't?" He slanted a glance over at Tess. "Until very recently, war was war, and I didn't have contact with the civilians like you do." "But that's changed," Tess observed, her voice soft with his pain. "Yeah, damn it, I guess it has. I mean, the boy drew this picture for me, Tess. I'll show it to you. He's talented... I mean, was." "Now you begin to understand some of what I go through every day out in the three villages I'm charged with taking care of." Gib shook his head and gripped Tess's work-worn hand. "I don't know how you do it, Tess. The pain I'm feeling for Vinh hurts so damn much. I don't think I could take what you see on a daily basis. I really don't." She smiled gently. "Men are very brittle emotionally," she teased him. "I've always said women were the stronger of the two genders, and now I know I'm right." Gib looked at his sister strangely. "You see things like this all the time. Doesn't it get to you?" "Sure it does." "How do you deal with it?" Her smile was wry. "I cry a lot." And then her smile disappeared. "Have you cried yet? For Vinh? For yourself and Dany?" Grimly, he shook his head. "I haven't cried since I got here." "That's a long time," Tess whispered, giving him a worried look. "This is your second tour, Gib."

"It hurts to feel, Tess. Don't go getting on my case right now about it, okay? I feel like I'm going to explode inside, and I don't want you in my sights if I do." She released his hand and stood up. "You know, every time you mention Dany Villard's name, your voice grows soft. Is she special to you?" Gib shrugged. "It's one-way, if she is," he growled. Placing her hands in the pockets of her one-piece tan uniform, Tess watched him for a moment without speaking. Finally, she asked, "Dany doesn't like you?" Again, Gib shrugged. "She sees me as nothing more than a transient GI, someone who will walk out of her world and abandon her after my tour's up." "That doesn't mean she doesn't like you." Gib was always amazed at Tess's ability to clarify muddy situations. Unwillingly, he was realizing the depth of his emotional involvement with Dany-although he'd never even kissed her yet. Clearing his throat, he rasped, "Actually, I think she does. Every time we get together, it's like putting oil on fire. I see this look in her eyes, this longing. Sometimes I hear it in her voice..." He shut his eyes and rubbed them wearily. A sweet, hot memory of their near-kiss at her plantation sheared through him, momentarily erasing his grief and worry for Vinh. "There's something there," he said flatly, and removed his hands from his eyes. "But it's going nowhere." "Sure it will." "You're such an optimist." With a laugh, Tess said, "Usually, you are, too. I can see Dany really means something to you, Gib. Just be patient with her. I've heard a lot of good things about her from the villages that border on her plantation. The people like her. She's got an unblemished reputation for being fair and generous." Generous was the right word, Gib decided with agony. "She helps the poor, and she treats her people like family." "I hope to meet her someday soon. Now that you have this on-again, off-again relationship with her, I'm sure I will." "I think you two would like each other. You sure share one thing in common, farming and the land." "As if you don't! You're a rancher at heart, Gib Ramsey. Owning a pair of wings doesn't take the Texas sand out of your flight boots." Her lilting laughter lifted his depressed spirit. "Dany says the same thing. She thinks I ought to hang up my wings and put on my cowboy boots again." Sobering, Tess shrugged. "With the way the situation is escalating here, that's not a bad idea." She sat back down. "I'm going to hang around with you until you hear about Vinh. Besides, it will give us time to catch up. I've hardly seen you in the last three weeks." Grateful for Tess's presence, Gib felt some of the pain in his heart ease. Dusk was settling over the area taking the edge off the humidity, but not by much. Gib found himself wanting to know Vinh's condition for more than one

reason. He ached to hear Dany's voice. Sooner or later, he'd be back at Marble Mountain making that call to her. It couldn't come too soon, he decided. He needed to hear her voice.

It was 2000, and darkness was complete when Gib climbed out of the jeep that he'd hitched a ride in from Da Nang. Thanking the driver, he headed directly for his tent, which doubled as a second office for him when he wasn't at squadron headquarters. Opening the door, he left it ajar to allow the stuffiness to abate as he crossed to his small desk and sat down. Quiet descended within the tent. In the distance, he could hear the whine of helicopters winding up and, very faintly, the rumble of jets taking off from Da Nang. With a sigh, Gib sat back and stared at the green canvas wall opposite. His gaze moved to the black telephone on his desk. Now that he knew Vinh's condition, he could call Dany. She hadn't left his mind or heart throughout the long vigil. How was she faring? Once again, she had to be the strong one to support Vinh's relatives through this latest ordeal. Damn it, she needed some support! Angry because he had to be at the base and not where he wanted to be-with her-he picked up the receiver. Just the husky sweetness of her voice would take away the terrible emotions bubbling within him, he thought. Just her voice.

Dany jerked awake when the phone rang. She was lying on the couch in the drawing room, dozing and waiting for Gib's call. Groggily, she got up and stumbled over to the mahogany desk. Her pulse sped up as she answered. "Hello?" "Dany? It's Gib. I've just come back from Da Nang. Vinh's out of surgery and in recovery. The surgeon who operated on him says he's going to make it." Relief shattered through her. "Oh, thank God. Thank God..." "The doc said the reason Vinh survived at all was because we put that tourniquet on his upper arm as soon as we did. Otherwise, he'd have died from loss of blood. We did good work, Dany. I'm proud of us." Pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead, Dany closed her eyes, suddenly shaky. "Thank you, Gib. I've got to go. I've got to tell Vinh's parents and Ma Ling. They'll be so happy." Her voice broke. "I owe you so much for what you did." "You don't owe me a thing." The gritty rasp of his voice blanketed Dany. Rallying beneath his concern, she whispered, "I can never repay you, Gib. You're a good man." "Look, Dany, I didn't want to say this, especially not now, but it needs to be discussed. I don't see how you're going to remain neutral. The Americans pass your plantation all the time. What if some Marine stops for water or directions? It's going to be impossible to keep both the Americans and ARVNs off your property. Please rethink your position." Frustration and anger wove through Dany. Her grip on the phone tightened. "You don't understand, Gib! For thirty-five years we've managed to live in peaceful coexistence with all people and politics." "The situation is different this time, Dany."

"Wars are all the same! When the Vietminh rose up against the French, my father was enough of a diplomat to keep all sides from destroying his plantation. I've got to do the same. I have to carry on that tradition, no matter the cost to me personally. I owe it to the people who have lived on the plantation since it began, Gib. I owe it to their families, to the children. They have a better quality of life, better care than if they lived in a village, and I know it. I'm not letting them down, Gib. I'll never do that," she quavered. "I'm sorry I brought it up. You're worn out. Let's talk about this some other time when you're feeling up to it." Pain jagged through Dany, and she bit her lower lip hard. "No, Gib," she whispered. "This can't be let go." She took a ragged breath. "I can't allow you ever to come back to the plantation again. I don't dare." "What?" "Don't you understand? Your presence at the plantation has made the VC suspicious of my neutrality." Her voice grew hoarse. "As much as I might want to keep seeing you, Gib, I can't." "Dany, listen to me-" With a little cry, Dany whispered, "Do you think I want to? If only you weren't American! If only you weren't a Marine! Oh, God, it won't work, Gib. It can't. Please, I've got to hang up. Promise me you'll call and let me know how soon Vinh's parents can come and visit him at the hospital?" "Sure, I will," he agreed glumly. "But Dany, we need to talk-" "No! It's no use, Gib. Goodbye." Dany hung up the receiver and stood, her eyes tightly shut, fighting the sobs that threatened to rise in her throat. She felt as if half of her had just died. Gib was a good man, a fine one. He was everything she'd ever dreamed and wished for. But it couldn't work. He was a GI- someone who would leave at the end of his tour. She couldn't-wouldn't-risk her heart, her emotions, on such a one-sided affair. Her responsibility was to her people, to the plantation. They had to come first. They just had to.

Miserably Dany opened her eyes and padded barefoot through the house to awaken Ma Ling and Vinh's parents. She knew they would be overjoyed to hear Vinh had survived the operation and was going to live. She trudged out the door, feeling gutted inwardly by the terrible decision she'd had to make about Gib. After notifying everyone involved, Dany changed into black pants and a black cotton overblouse. It was one o'clock in the morning as she grimly descended the stairs and walked past the village at the rear of the house. Tonight, whether she wanted to or not, she must talk to Binh Duc. Dany hated the VC chieftain, but she had no options left. She had to know if he was declaring war upon the Villard plantation. She walked down one of the long avenues of rubber trees, the only light provided by the quarter moon that had risen in the east. Dany walked alone, unafraid on her own property. Her heart beat unrelentingly in her breast. Binh Duc was completely without conscience. It wasn't beyond him to kill her if he flew into one of the insane rages he was famous for. Taking a deep, ragged

breath, Dany continued to walk quickly, swallowed by the night. She knew his soldiers stayed near the boundary of her property, so she'd have no problem locating one of them to take her to Duc. Other feelings crowded into her heart. The fact that she was completely alone and that no one else could help her struck Dany fully. It was a bitter acknowledgement that filled her with a desperate kind of emptiness. She had been crazy to entertain any thought of Gib possibly being part of her life, helping bear her burdens. It was best that she told Gib never to come back. Dany pressed her hand against her heart to stop herself from crying. Gathering her strewn emotions, she tried to prepare herself to meet Duc. *

*

*

"You dare to come here?'' Binh Duc snarled from where he sat behind a wobbly wooden desk. Dany remained grimly silent. At the edge of Villard property she had located one of the VC soldiers and ordered him to bring her to Duc. She had been blindfolded and led for nearly an hour, stumbling, along a jungle path. Now she stood in a damp tunnel barely six feet in height, the dank smell of stale earth combined with unwashed bodies assailing her sensitive nostrils. A number of black-clad men formed a crescent behind Duc. "Well, answer me!" Duc hissed furiously. "You dare to show your face to me after consorting with our enemy?" Dany moved forward and so did her two escorts. "I dare to come because I haven't broken our word to you, Duc!" she snapped angrily. "Was it you who placed the mine in our driveway that killed my mother?" Duc sat back, his eyes narrowing. "What mine?" "You damn well know what mine!" Dany placed her hands flat on the desk and glared down at Duc. He was a short, lean man in his early forties. During the 1950s he'd fought with the Vietminh, and half his face was horribly scarred from being caught in a French bombing raid. The disfigurement made Duc look more like a monster than a human being. Swallowing against her dry throat, Dany knew Duc respected only strength, not weakness. "Well, did you plant it there? Did you kill my mother?" Duc glared back at her with his one good eye, the other having been destroyed in that long-ago bombing. "I had no reason to plant a mine there," he muttered defiantly. "Why don't you ask your American friends? They plant landmines, too." "They had no reason to plant anything near the plantation! They have teams of men running mine detectors up and down Highway 14 at least three times a day!" With a slight shrug, Duc said, "It wasn't the Viet-cong." Dany straightened, not believing him, but having no recourse. "And now you planted a second mine. This time in my trees. A child, Hanh Vinh, lost an arm earlier today." Duc leaned forward, a snarl lifting his upper lip. "That mine should serve as a warning, Miss Villard. Twice an American Marine has visited you. Did you think me a fool?" He snorted violently. "Even in civilian clothes, anyone could see he was in the military."

"Do you know why he's come to the plantation twice, Duc? He's the investigation officer on my mother's death. I haven't broken our treaty. I can't just throw him off the property, or he'd get suspicious. That would invite further American curiosity." Duc leaned back in his chair and studied her. "I told you before, no Americans, no ARVN on the Villard property. That was our agreement. You've broken your neutrality." "No," Dany said harshly. "Someone has broken it, but it wasn't me! I didn't plant that mine at the end of the driveway. If you're so interested in who broke our treaty, then send your men to find out who did it. There's no way I can stop this Marine investigator from coming to the plantation when he wants to, Duc'' "You must do something, then, to prove your loyalty to me," Duc whispered. "I will allow this one American bastard on your property until this silly investigation is over-on one condition." Sweat popped out on Dany's upper lip. The tunnel air was stale and stifling. She was trembling inwardly, her stomach tied in an aching knot. The tunnel was poorly lit, by candles placed here and there to drive back the shadowy gloom. "What condition?" she grated. He smiled suddenly, the good half of his face twisting upward. "You get me two cases of antibiotics. I need penicillin for my soldiers." He scowled. "Someone, I don't know who, has been stealing from our tunnel supplies. When I find out who's responsible, I'll chop off his hands! Until then, I need antibiotics. You will get them for me as proof of your neutrality. If you don't," Duc warned her with a growl, "I will attack your plantation. I will plant so many mines that you'll be forced to leave our country." Shaken, Dany straightened and backed away from the table, her eyes huge. Duc had never asked her to feed, clothe, or in any way help his army. "That," she whispered, "isn't in our agreement, Duc. My father made sure when he made peace with all parties that we would never openly support any specific political group. We never have." "You're supporting Americans right now." "I am not! I can't help it if they're investigating my mother's death. I'm not aiding them, I'm not giving them information, food or anything else!" Duc stood up and planted his hands on his hips. "You have broken the treaty, not I." He jabbed his finger at her. "Either you get me two cases of antibiotics as a show of renewed loyalty to our treaty, or I will make war upon your plantation." Trembling with anger, Dany glared across the desk at Duc. "All right," she rattled, "I'll get those antibiotics. But it's a one-shot deal, Duc. I'll never do it again. Do we understand each other?" Again he smiled his gruesome smile. "You are a wise Frenchwoman, Miss Villard. I will have my men escort you back to your property line. I expect those antibiotics by tomorrow night. Do we understand each other?" he asked, mocking her words and tone. "Perfectly," Dany rasped, and spun around on her heel. Her mind tumbled with options. She could get anything she wanted on the black market, because she knew the system. Vietnam operated almost solely on bribery and black-market

trade. As she left the tunnel, blindfolded once again, Dany's conscience railed at her for what she'd just agreed to do. What would Gib think if he ever found out that she'd furnished medical supplies to the enemy he fought daily? Choking back a deluge of anger and frustration, Dany forced herself to think clearly about the situation. If she didn't do as Duc demanded, her plantation and people would become VC targets. She had no doubt that Duc would fulfill his promise. It was for the peasants, the people she had grown up with, that Dany decided to get the antibiotics for Duc. If it had been only herself and the plantation involved, she'd have refused. But she couldn't continue to allow innocent people to fall victim. Vinh had already paid the price for Gib's visits. Fighting back a sob, Dany stumbled along the unseen jungle trail that would lead her back home-back to the shaky peace that surrounded it.

Chapter Six Finding an excuse to land at Da Nang to visit Vinh, seven days after the mine explosion, Gib set his craft down on one of the many landing aprons. Giving his three-man crew orders to go find the nearest enlisted men's or officer's Club, Gib wiped the sweat from his face. His one-piece uniform clinging damply to his body, he took a small parcel tightly wrapped with twine from beneath his seat, and left his helicopter. The day was sunny, and he felt like he was wearing a sponge as he made his way to the line shack. Gib didn't waste much time filling out his flight report and eventual destination, Marble Mountain. A lot of crews coming back from missions stopped at Da Nang for a respite. His crew had been working hard since Vinh's injury, and they deserved an hour of sanity from the war. So did he. As Gib walked off the airfield, he hitched a ride with a jeep going north toward the MASH unit where Vinh was recuperating. The wind cooled him slightly, and Gib closed his eyes. Dany's face wavered there, as always. This past week had been the toughest in his life to come to grips with. He didn't want Dany to throw away what they shared. How could she? He opened his eyes. He knew why. Dany would never leave Vietnam, and he couldn't stay here. Besides, he was a GI-a bad risk in a relationship from her perspective. Thanking the driver, Gib hopped out of the jeep and walked into the hospital-a series of hard-backed canvas tents. Locating a navy corpsman at the admittance desk, Gib asked for Vinh. "Right down this aisle, sir," the corpsman directed. He smiled. "Vinh's pretty depressed. His family only visited him once, four days ago. He's one lonely, bored kid." "How about Dany Villard? Has she been to visit him?" "She came with his parents. Cute kid, you know? Cryin' shame he lost his arm." "Yeah," Gib muttered bitterly, "it is." Walking down the aisle, Gib glanced at the Marines in the cots. Some had IVs in their arms, others were swathed in bandages. Several nurses walked around, clipboards in hand, smiles on their faces for the injured men. Gib's spirits

rose unaccountably as he spotted Vinh sitting cross-legged on top of his cot. The boy was staring down at his feet, playing with his bare toes. His right arm was bandaged and in a sling against his chest. "Hey, how's my favorite kid?" Gib teased. Vinh's head shot up. His dark brown eyes widened enormously. '' Major Gib!'' Gib grinned and carefully sat down on the cot. He ruffled Vinh's hair and watched color flood back into the boy's pale golden skin. "I'm sorry I couldn't drop by sooner, Vinh." Vinh rose to his knees and threw his one arm around Gib's neck. "You came!" he said, his voice choked. Gib wrapped his arms around Vinh and held him gently for fear of hurting his injured arm. Rubbing the boy's back, he whispered, "It's been kinda lonely around here for you, hasn't it?" Sniffing, Vinh nodded, still clinging tightly to Gib. Something old and hurting broke in Gib's chest. Vinh's spontaneous gesture shattered all his usual protective walls against feeling anything. He pressed a kiss to Vinh's shiny black hair. "You know, when I was your age, I broke my leg," Gib told him softly. "My daddy was on the tractor and we were disking a section of field. I was sitting up on the fender of the tractor just enjoying the day and being with him. The tractor bogged down in a damp area and I got thrown off. I landed in the middle of that disking equipment." Vinh eased back just enough to look up into his eyes. "You hurt yourself?" Gib chuckled. "Yeah. My daddy stopped the tractor and was frantic with worry for me. He lifted me up and out of all that machinery. That's when we found out I'd busted up my left leg." Gib patted that leg and pointed to his ankle. "Down here is where I broke it. I was on crutches for eight weeks and wore a huge plaster cast." He grinned, thinking back to that time. "I was one of the most unhappy boys in the state of Texas. I didn't like being hog-tied and put out to pasture." Vinh tilted his head, his eyes burning with curiosity. "What is a hog-tie?" Smiling broadly, Gib eased the boy back to the bed. "It means I couldn't go with my friends. I just had to sit around and rest a lot. I hated it." He gestured to Vinh. "You're hog-tied right now, and I bet you're just as unhappy as I was." Sadly, Vinh nodded. "It is lonely. I miss my mother and father... my family. Most of all, I miss the cookies Grandma makes me." "Ma Ling?" "Yes. Missy Dany lets me come in every afternoon and have a cup of tea with Grandma." Gib nodded. "Well, maybe you can leave pretty soon, Vinh. How's that injury coming along?" Vinh shrugged carefully. "I miss my hand. It's different without it."

After unknotting the twine around the brown parcel he'd brought, he held the child's sad stare. Gib ached for Vinh. "I can't imagine what it must be like, Vinh," he said. "I'm sorry it happened." "Grandma says that I won't miss my hand very much after a while." "I hope she's right," Gib murmured. He forced a smile, because if he didn't, he was going to cry. The boy didn't need his pity. "You in much pain?" "Only when the nurse doesn't give me the pain pill on time." "Otherwise, you're doing okay?" Vinh nodded, all his attention on Gib slowly unwrapping the parcel. "What is this? A surprise?" "Yup. Just for you. Here, you finish opening it." Vinh awkwardly used his left hand to tear away the brown paper. His excitement melted into puzzlement. There in front of him was a box of crayons, a tablet of paper, some pencils and pens. "What-what are these for?" Gib heard the hurt in Vinh's strained voice. "Well," he told him gently, "I made some inquiries with the doctor, and he said that drawing, coloring and sketching with your left hand would help you learn to use it better." Gib held Vinh's tear-filled gaze. "You're a good artist, pardner. I know that someday, if you'll sketch and draw every day, you'll be just as good at drawing that helicopter you did for me with your left hand." Vinh stared down at the items. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he touched the box of crayons. "Are there many colors in here?" "I don't know. Why don't you open it and find out?" It took every ounce of control Gib had to allow Vinh to struggle with the box on his own, and it took the boy a good minute before he was able to situate the box of crayons against his leg and open it with his clumsy fingers. "That wasn't bad," Gib praised him. Vinh was flushed with embarrassment. "Not so good. Not very fast." "But you opened it. That's the first step, Vinh. Don't look at what you don't do, look at what you do right. Okay?" With a nod, Vinh reverently touched the crayons one by one. "The next step is to draw something," Gib said lightly as he opened up the small sketch pad. "What's your favorite subject to draw?" "Helicopters." Gib placed the sketch pad across Vinh's lap. "I had a feeling it would be," he said with a grin. "What color you want to use?" Vinh chewed on his lower lip, his brows drawn into a painful frown. "I-I can't

draw." "Sure you can." Gib chose the green crayon and placed it between the thumb and index finger of Vinh's left hand. "Go on," he urged gently, "give it a try. Now, the first time it's going to look a little sloppy, but every time you try, it will be better. Go on..." Uncomfortable, Vinh pressed the crayon to the white paper. His brow puckered and his mouth compressed with concentration. The first line was wobbly, not straight and smooth. "Looks just fine," Gib praised. "Why, that looks like the nose of a helo. Is it?" Vinh looked up, his eyes filled with surprise. "Yes! You can tell?" "Sure." It was a lucky guess. Sheer luck. Gib hoped Vinh didn't see him sweating it out for him. He wanted to give Vinh hope. Just seeing the sudden life in the boy's eyes made all his previous nervousness and dread worth it. "Go on, let's see you draw the rest of it, pardner." Brightening, Vinh went back to work with far more relish than before. Each line was drawn slowly and with painstaking care. Each line was wobbly. After a good ten minutes, the vague outline of a Marine helicopter filled the page. "Darn, but that's awful good for a first time," Gib congratulated Vinh sincerely. And it was. Gib saw the joy and hope in Vinh's dark brown eyes, and for the next twenty minutes, time melted away as they worked together over the drawing to complete it. Finally, Vinh had finished his masterpiece and proudly held it up with his left hand for Gib to look at. The green helicopter was flying in a clear blue sky, with white clouds and a yellow sun in the background. Gib nodded his approval. "Definitely a keeper," he told Vinh. "That's a great first effort," he praised seriously. "You really think so?" Vinh asked excitedly. He looked critically at the drawing and lost some of his initial enthusiasm. "All the lines shake like my hand." Gib stroked the boy's hair. "The doc said at first you'll be shaky, but the more you use it, Vinh, the steadier you'll become. That's a promise." Flushing with pride, Vinh stopped being so critical of his first work. "I will surprise my grandmother. Do you think she will like this as a gift from me?" Gib was careful not to let his expression change. Ma Ling didn't exactly like Marines-him in particular, from the way she always glared at him. "I think your grandmother will be very happy to see you drawing again." "She will," a woman's voice directly behind him murmured. Gib's heart slammed against his ribs. His mouth grew dry. The voice could belong to no one but Dany. Slowly, he turned his head. Dany stood there in a pale gold ao dai, her black hair plaited into a single, thick braid that fell between her shoulder blades. His pulse bounded as his gaze moved up to her warm, tear-filled eyes. Suddenly seven days without Dany felt like seven years of hell in solitary.

"Dany-" he rasped. The emotion he felt for her almost burst through in his voice. Gib struggled to control himself, his wildly rampant feelings. Just seeing her parted lips, he wanted to taste them, to claim her as his own. Dany lowered her gaze. Nervously, she fingered the strap on her straw bag, filled with books for Vinh. "I-I didn't know you'd be here," she said lamely. The expression on Gib's face was nearly her undoing. His eyes were dark with pain, the pain she'd inflicted on him. At the same time, she saw a burning fire of hope in them, too. Finding his voice, he hardened it slightly. "How long have you been standing there?" "About ten minutes." Dany hadn't been able to stop herself from being a silent witness to Gib's incredibly sensitive touch with Vinh. The boy had responded beautifully beneath Gib's coaxing. Dragging in a ragged breath, Dany whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude, I-" Gib rose abruptly. It hurt to see Dany. It hurt to know that she never wanted to see him again. Turning to Vinh, he forced a smile he hoped the boy wouldn't see through. "I gotta be moseying on down the road, pardner. Time to get back to my base. How about if I drop by in a couple of days to see how many more drawings you've done?" Vinh flashed a smile. "You will come back?" Gib glanced over at Dany, tore his gaze from her, then looked down at Vinh. "Sure I will. That's a promise. Next time, I'll bring you some black-and-white photos of other planes you can draw.'' "Good!" As Gib picked up the garrison cap he'd tossed on the cot, Vinh rose up on his knees and threw his arm around Gib's neck. "Thank you, Major Gib," Vinh quavered. Shutting his eyes, Gib held the boy tightly for a moment. "Any time, pardner." He patted Vinh awkwardly. He had to get away from Dany. Her presence was sheer torture. Sheer hell of the sweetest, most unfulfilled kind. Vinh placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek, and Gib absorbed the look of gratitude in the boy's eyes. Smiling down at him, he eased away. With trembling hands, Gib set the garrison cap back on his head at an angle. He wanted so badly to talk to Dany, to beg her to reconsider, but what was the point? Yet, as she stood before him, small and vulnerable, he felt as if his heart was breaking, the pain spreading like a destructive storm through him. His chest hurt and he was hardly able to breathe. "Excuse me," he muttered as he moved by her. Blindly, Gib strode out of the tent and back into the fresh, humid air. Without looking back, he headed toward the nearest road to hitch a ride back to the airstrip. At the helicopter, Gib tinkered around in the cockpit, awaiting the return of his crew, determined to keep from thinking, from feeling. He was angry. Angry with Dany. Angry with himself. Gib hadn't expected ever to see Dany again. For all intents and purposes, the investigation on her mother's case was

completed. All he had to do was type up a final report and mail it to her. There was no official reason to see her again. The sun beat hotly into the cockpit, and Gib felt as if he were frying. Feeling dehydrated, he climbed out, grabbing a canteen of water he kept stowed beneath the seat. Lowering himself to the edge of the rear platform, he sat, his long legs dangling outside the aircraft, and drank deeply from the canteen. Maybe if he drank enough bitter-tasting, chemically treated water, he could put out the fire in his heart for Dany. As he lowered his head and capped the canteen, Gib's eyes narrowed. Dany Villard was getting out of a white Citroen near the control tower. Frowning heavily, he watched her, the silk of her ao dai flowing gracefully against her small, proud form. Every sweet contour of her body was lovingly outlined by the pale gold silk. She was looking for someone. Him? Gib immediately discarded the thought, even as he felt a rush of anger that she'd shown up here and now. Wasn't there any place he could go to get away from her emotional pull on him? Just thinking of her was agony enough. To see her standing so alone, a woman in the harsh male world of military combat, emphasized her sweet femininity. Gib was just about to disappear back into the helicopter when Dany turned, spotted him and immediately began to walk across the tarmac toward him. Cursing softly to himself, his fingers tightening like steel on the aluminum canteen, Gib waited tensely. Dany pulled away the strands of hair that blew across her eyes and brow. She slowed her approach, nonplussed by Gib's angry expression, by the vibrating tension surrounding him. Halting a foot away from him in the shadow of the huge gunship, she smiled, trying to disarm the anger. "Hi. I just wanted to thank you for helping Vinh." "It was nothing," Gib said abruptly. Sweet Jesus, why did Dany have to look so beautiful? So vulnerable? Every protective gene in his body wanted to embrace her and kiss her until her breath merged with his own. A fine trembling began to run through Gib, and he gripped the canteen with both hands. Dany saw Gib's eyes flash with more than anger; she saw real pain. Licking her lips guiltily, she made a small gesture with her hand. "What you did-well, it was wonderful. Vinh's parents haven't been able to come up and see him as much as they'd like, and Ma Ling's terribly upset by what's happened." "Something like this affects everyone," Gib agreed tightly. Dany looked like a beautiful wraith, some fevered dream come to life in the daylight. Despite her beauty, he saw shadows beneath her eyes. Harshly, he controlled his need to ask how she'd been. Dany felt terribly nervous. She'd never seen Gib so cold or expressionless before. "Vinh's so happy you came by," she whispered. "His first drawing really isn't that bad." "No, it's pretty good." Gib shrugged. "The other day I tried drawing with my left hand, and it was a disaster." Touched by his admission, Dany took a step closer. "Why did you do that?" Gib refused to lift his head and meet her gaze. If he did, he was afraid he would grab her, pin her against him and kiss her until they melted into each other. "I wanted to see what it was like. I didn't want to bring the stuff to

Vinh without knowing what he might have to go through in order to draw again." Dany closed her eyes and swayed then caught herself. When she opened her eyes, Gib was still staring blackly down at his long, rawboned fingers clasped around the canteen. Her throat closed up with tears. "You're a surprising man. Outside, you wear the shell of a warrior. Inside-well, you constantly surprise me with your sensitivity." He flashed her an angry look. "Contrary to popular opinion, Dany, not all GIs are rotten bastards who deserve to have their selfish hearts cut out. A few of us American Marines are pretty decent human beings." Wincing, Dany took a step back from him. She deserved that. The coldness coming from him was frightening. Had she been wrong in ordering him to stay away? Or maybe he'd never cared for her, and that was why he was behaving this way toward her. Confused, she touched her brow. "I just wanted to come by and thank you. Vinh idolizes the ground you walk on. He was overjoyed by your visit. But I'm afraid he won't be here much longer. I just talked to the doctor, and they're going to release him tomorrow." "Oh." "Vinh's so excited about the photos you promised him." Abruptly, Gib stood. In the distance, he saw his crew getting out of a jeep. "I'll see he gets them, Dany." Gib towered over her, appearing so strong, confident and sure. Dany felt none of those things. She saw his attention had shifted and she turned. "My crew's back. I've got to leave." "Of course.'' She tried to smile, but failed. "Thank you, Gib. For everything. But especially for giving Vinh back the hope that he might still be an artist someday." Gib worked his mouth, torn between wanting Dany in his arms and steeling himself against what was lost to them both. "I've completed the investigation," he said abruptly. "I'll drop a copy of the report in the mail sometime in the next week." And then I'll be out of your life forever, just as you wanted. Dany nodded. "Thank you. Goodbye." Goodbye. Gib nodded brusquely, unable to say anything, his throat jammed closed with a lump he didn't care to acknowledge. He watched Dany turn and walk back toward the control tower. His crew ogled her thoroughly, but he couldn't blame them-she was a beautiful woman in the daily dirty business of war. A flower in a field of blood. Turning, he leaped back into the rear cabin of the helicopter. If he didn't get busy, he'd stand there like a sad-eyed wolf baying at the moon. Wolves, he reminded himself angrily, mated for life. Damn her. Damn her to hell. Gib sat down hard in his uncomfortable seat. He glowered as his copilot eased himself into the cockpit. "It's about time you got back," he growled. "Let's get through the ground check and get the hell out of here."

Dany's hand trembled as she placed the key in the car's ignition. In the distance, she could see the blades of Gib's helicopter slowly begin to turn. A deluge of anguish, need and longing flowed through her, and she sat, head bowed, unable to drive until she recaptured her strewn emotions. Gib's anger was completely shocking. Why was he so angry with her? Dany wished she had more experience with men and their behavior. Was he angry that she'd sent him away? Was it an issue of male ego and pride? Or was he hurt because he really did like her a great deal and she'd rebuffed him? Tears welled behind her shut eyelids. The past week had been utter torture. She'd been lonely without Gib's presence, his steadying voice and confidence. Lately, since her mother's death, her confidence seemed to have fled. Everyone who worked for the plantation was edgy. Dany lived in fear of another mine going off and killing or maiming someone else. She couldn't trust Binh Duc any longer, even though she'd gotten him the cases of antibiotics he'd demanded. Gib's face appeared in her mind's eye. It was the face of a warrior-harsh and rough-hewn. Yet, as Dany sat thinking and, more importantly, feeling, she realized the depth of Gib's loyalty and commitment to Vinh. Would any other GI have visited, much less brought Vinh a gift? Or-Dany opened her eyes and took a deep breath-tried drawing with his left hand to see what kind of problems Vinh would have? What kind of man was Gib Ramsey? Was he really different from all the other GIs? Or was he right in saying that some Marines weren't cold-blooded takers? Utterly exhausted by the flood of emotion and confused thought, Dany shook her head. Lately, life had held very few answers for her-only complex and puzzling questions. Starting the Citroen, Dany slowly drove away from the control tower. Perhaps time would ease her pain at losing Gib. She had no way of knowing. At this moment the war within her-between her heart and head- seemed worse than the one that surrounded her life and the plantation.

Chapter Seven Three weeks. Three lousy weeks without contacting or seeing Dany. Gib wearily climbed out of the cockpit. He'd just returned from another mission-the third one today. Da Nang had been hit by VC sappers shortly after he'd last seen Dany, and the conflict had escalated sharply since then. More Marines had landed at Da Nang, and it was as if their landing had been a signal to the active VC that it was time for an all-out attack against any ARVN or American installation. A Marine patrol out of Da Nang had been ambushed a week ago, and since then what had been a sporadic conflict had heightened unquestionably to war. Although he tried not to think of her at all, Gib chafed daily at the thought of Dany's "neutrality" and at the imminent danger she was in. Tess was in constant danger, too, as far as Gib was concerned. The villagers of Cam Na refused to leave their homes for a safer, more secure area the Marines had set up for them. Tess continued to argue with a Marine major who insisted her people were in real jeopardy. She remained at Cam Na overnight all the time now, and though he wanted to be supportive of her, Gib wasn't at all comfortable with his sister's stubborn refusal to help persuade the villagers to leave. The two women who held his heart, Dany and Tess, were far from safe, and Gib's helpless frustration with the situation ate at him. Pete Mallory joined Gib as he walked toward the operations tent to fill out his debriefing forms.

"Hell, this isn't as much fun as it used to be," Pete griped, wiping his watering, bloodshot eyes. "I can't say I ever saw it that way in the first place," Gib said dryly. Every bone in his body ached. His bird had taken a lot of ground fire. Gib knew he and his crew had walked away lucky today. Sometime in the future, they might not. His shoulders and back muscles were in knots and felt as if they were on fire. Suddenly Dany popped into his thoughts, as she often did at unexpected moments. Gib wondered what it would be like to be massaged by her strong, slender hands. She'd be good at massage, he thought as he and Pete walked toward the group of tents in the distance. Gib had respected Dany's request and left her alone. Completely alone. He liked her too much to make her life any more miserable than it already had become. At least there was one bright spot: Vinh had recuperated beautifully after the operation and was now back at the plantation with his family. Gib cherished the note that Dany had sent to him via Ma Ling last week. Dear Gib, I took the liberty of having your briefcase returned. In the confusion, you forgot about it. Thank you for respecting the neutrality of the Villard plantation and its people. I'm sending Ma Ling with this note to give to you. I received the investigation papers last week, and I'm sorry that no culprit was found. Thanks for trying. I find myself worrying about you every time I see a helicopter fly overhead. The last two weeks there's been such terrible fighting around us that not a day went by that I didn't wonder how you're doing, how much you were flying and if you were staying safe. I hate war. I hate what it does to people. It all seems so unnecessary. I'm doing well. Things are quieter around here now and back on track, so to speak. Please take care. You're in my nightly prayers. Dany.

"Gib? Hey, where'd you fly off to?" Pete teased. Gib flushed. "Sorry. What did you say?" Pete halted at the door to the flight shack, opening it for Gib. "I said, I'm gonna go over to Da Nang and wrangle some supplies for us in about an hour. Do I have your permission to leave?" Grinning belatedly, Gib entered the partially air-conditioned building with its long plywood counter, flight desk and meteorology equipment. Evidently Pete was out on one of his scrounging tours again. "Sure. Just be careful you don't get caught." Pete grinned widely. "You bet. I'll be gone before those gyrenes know I've been there." Laughter helped ease the terrible strain Gib felt inwardly. Pete Mallory was a blessing to the squadron in so many ways. The Marine sergeant on duty approached Gib. "Sir, Colonel Parsons asked to see you after you're done filling out the paperwork."

Frowning, Gib nodded. "Thanks, sergeant, I'll do that." What was up? It was 1700, and all Gib wanted to do was drag himself over to his tent, take a shower and fall into the cot to sleep for twelve heavenly, uninterrupted hours-although he knew the idea was mere fantasy. VC sappers regularly tested the defenses surrounding Marble Mountain, and sporadic firefights broke out along the concertina and mined perimeter off and on all night. "A squadron commander's work is never done," Pete whispered conspiratorially. "All I want is to shower and hit that rack," Gib muttered. "No can do." Gib eyed Pete jealously. "Where the hell do you get all that spunk? You've flown as many missions as I have the past few weeks." Grinning, Pete signed off the discrepancy sheet and handed it to the maintenance sergeant behind the counter. "Man, I keep telling you-you just don't live right. It's women that keep my blood pumping, my eyes bright and my exhaustion at bay. Didn't you know that?" He clapped Gib on the shoulder. "Now, if you had some good-looking filly to chase, you'd be alert, too." Scowling, Gib continued to fill in the necessary paperwork. "I'm going to head on over to Da Nang," Pete said, lifting his hand in farewell. "See you later." "Yeah." Gib returned to his paperwork after Pete had left. When he'd completed the routine signing of squadron flight reports, he retrieved his utility cap and headed on over to Parsons's office. As he made his way between the long, neat rows of tents, he admitted to himself that his deepest concern revolved around Dany. The weeks had turned into a depression-laden mire for Gib. Were the pressures of war making him feel this way? Maybe taking on a second tour hadn't been so smart. Maybe he was burned out, and Dany symbolized the kind of normalcy, peace and sanity he needed. Gib shook his head. He'd never know. They hadn't been given the chance to explore what they could be to each other. In spite of his attempts, Gib couldn't ignore his feelings for Dany any more than he could stop breathing. Was it just a crazy infatuation? Was he acting like this because he couldn't have her? She was a fever in his blood, beautiful, white-hot heat that sizzled through his nightly dreams, taunting him. His steps slowed as he neared the HQ tent. In spite of the heat, Gib had to appreciate the incredible beauty of the late afternoon. He turned and looked toward the mirror-like ocean in the distance. The air around him was filled with sounds of aircraft taking off and landing, of helicopters winding up, their engines shrieking to a higher pitch, breaking the stillness he knew would exist if they weren't here. The peach-tinted sky had deepened to a tangerine color, as brilliant as it was delicate. The wispy clouds reminded him of the soft strands of hair that blew across Dany's face. Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, Gib stared up at the sky, absorbing its inherent beauty. In a way, Dany seemed clean and pristine to him-she existed outside the life-and-death dance he was forced to perform every day as he flew into battle. Dany represented a gentle nurturing he was starving for. The war was bleeding every decent and fragile emotion out of him. Somehow, Dany

revitalized him, made him feel alive again, reassuring him that his ravaged emotions had been numbed rather than truly destroyed. Gib didn't want to interface with the military anymore today. He wanted only to hear Dany's soft contralto voice on the phone. The urge to call her was excruciating. But as quickly as the thought arose, he squelched it. As he opened the door and entered the HQ tent, Gib knew he had to resist his own selfish urge for Dany's sake. Colonel Parsons looked up. "There you are." Gib halted in front of his desk, came to attention, and at the colonel's nod, relaxed again and asked, "What's up, sir?" Parsons leaned forward and took a file from his In basket. "Got a job for you, Gib." He grinned and gestured to Gib to take a seat. "Not that you need any more responsibility than you already got, but the Logistics boys down in Saigon decided to call in the chip on you." Stymied, Gib set his duffel bag on the floor, sat down and opened up the file Parsons handed him. It was labeled Villard Estate Purchase. "What's this, sir?" "Remember when Saigon dubbed you liaison officer to Miss Villard?" "Yes." Parsons punched his finger toward the file. "The powers that be want to expand our helicopter facilities in the Da Nang area. They have authorized you to negotiate for purchase of Miss Villard's estate so that it can be turned into a heliport facility." Gib's eyes narrowed. "They want to buy her out?" "That's right, and they've chosen you to get it done as expeditiously as possible. Of course, we have to work with local ARVN officials on this." Parsons grimaced. "Their palms have to be greased, or they'll feel left out of the action." Parsons folded his hands. "Now, you read over that ile tonight. Tomorrow morning, come back over here, and if you've got any questions, I'll get them answered. Officially, I'm pulling you off the duty roster tomorrow so you can go visit Miss Villard and make her a fair offer." "But-" "Gib, this has to be done quickly. We're going to be receiving a hundred and fifty more helicopters in the next four months, and there's nowhere to put them. Logistics has chosen the Villard plantation as the ideal location-its close to the base, easily defended and south of us, where most of the action is taking place." Gib sat stunned for a long minute. My God, Dany will come unhinged over this, he thought. And worse, he was to be the messenger. What would she think of him? His mouth suddenly dry, Gib croaked, "What if she refuses the offer?" "Then up the ante money within the range given in the file." "No, sir, I mean, what if she absolutely refuses to sell to us at any price?" Parsons shrugged. "Then, unfortunately, the Vietnamese government-with the help of hefty bribes-will intervene. She'll be forced to sell."

"How?" "They have their ways, Gib, don't worry about it." Anger stirred within him. "Colonel, I know she won't sell. Her tie with this land is special. For God's sake, she buried her mother on it less than a month ago. She wouldn't leave it for anything-or anyone. Especially not for us." "I'm sorry to hear that, Gib. Look, you have a lot of charm, and you're very good in diplomatic negotiations. That's why you were chosen for this assignment. Command doesn't want to upset Miss Villard, and they're willing to pay a fair market price for her estate, but they will get that land." Gib's hand trembled on the file as he slowly rose to his feet. Nausea stalked him. "Sir, isn't there some other way? Some piece of land bordering her plantation that might do just as well? Have the high-command boys looked at all alternatives?" "Major," Parsons said abruptly, "your orders are to get her to sell. I don't intend to tell high command their job. I'm sorry this has to happen to Miss Villard, but that's the way the chips fall." Gib read between the lines of Parsons's warning. Despair gut-punched him. "I'll see you at 0800, sir," he said resignedly. Brightening, Parsons smiled. "Fine, Gib. Just look at it this way, with the amount of land involved, Miss Villard will end up becoming a very rich young lady. She can go back to France and start another farm or business with no problem at all. Have her look at this as an opportunity. God knows why anyone would want to stay in this country in the first place." Gib knew he had to leave before he allowed his anger to get the better of him. Parsons wasn't at all interested in Dany's emotional tie to the land. The colonel didn't understand that sort of thing. Reeling emotionally, Gib left headquarters and walked toward the barracks in the growing dusk. His mind spun with shock and disgust. How could he handle this? How would Dany react? He knew she would fight. She would refuse any offer. And if he were in her shoes, he'd do the same thing. Still, come tomorrow, Gib would have to deliver the most fatal blow Dany had ever received. Bitterness coated the inside of his mouth, and for the first time he felt ashamed of the Marine Corps and of the uniform he'd always worn so proudly. This war was coldly going to smash Dany after all her struggles to remain neutral. And what did that make him?

"Missy Dany, Missy Dany," one of the children called, running up to her and pulling on the tail of her white overblouse, "a man is here! Ma Ling said to come quickly!" Dany knelt down and hugged the anxious six-year-old girl. "Thank you," she whispered. "Tell Ma Ling I'll be there right away." Frowning, Dany watched as the little girl, dressed in a dark green blouse and pajamas, her hair pulled into perky pigtails, ran off toward the house. Dany was working a good quarter-mile inside the rubber-tree grove. Turning, she dropped her machete and gloves beside the trunk of one of the huge trees and asked her foreman to carry on. Who was here?

Perhaps it was Dr. Perot, the French homeopathic physician, dropping by unexpectedly to check Vinh's progress. Vinh was recuperating in the main house at Dany's insistence. He was coming along wonderfully and would soon have an artificial limb fitted to his arm. Thinking it must be Perot, come to take measurements of Vinh's injured extremity, Dany walked back to the house in a leisurely fashion instead of hurrying. Ma Ling met her at the back door, her brow wrinkled. "Major Ramsey is here," she said flatly. "This is not good." Dany stood rooted to the spot, stunned by the news. Instantly, her pulse bounded and her heart squeezed, so that she couldn't find her voice for a moment. Finally she whispered, "Gib's here?" "Yes. I took him into the drawing room where he might not be seen by Duc's spies. I don't know, they may have seen him anyway. This isn't good, my daughter." Patting Ma Ling's darkly tanned and wrinkled arm, Dany said, "I know it isn't. Let me go see why he's here." Dany was filthy from working, her dark blue pajamas and overblouse damp with sweat even at ten in the morning. She handed Ma Ling her bamboo hat and went into the kitchen to wash her hands, neck, face and arms with a cool cloth. "Is he in uniform, Ma Ling?" Ma Ling rolled her eyes. "No! At least he respected you that much." "Thank God." Hurriedly Dany dried herself. Hanging up the damp towel, she said, "Bring us iced tea, please." As she padded barefoot down the hall, Dany tried to steady her heart, which was beating like a throbbing drum in her breast. Anticipation and dread moved through her simultaneously as she approached the drawing room. When she reached the doorway, she slowed, her thoughts and feelings in utter disarray. She touched her hair, gathered into a thick braid. How messy she must look! She swiped at her wispy bangs, to make sure they weren't matted against her forehead. It was painful to walk quietly into the drawing room. Gib stood tensely at the window, his hands thrust into the pockets of his dark green slacks, a briefcase at his feet. The crisp white short-sleeved shirt he wore clung to his chest and back, already damp from the late May heat that would soon be broken by returning monsoon rains. He hadn't heard her enter, and Dany stood a moment, absorbing the sight of his harsh profile silhouetted by the light filtering through the gossamer curtains. His feet were planted slightly apart, as if in determination, but his shoulders drooped. It looked as if the many loads he carried were getting to him. It was then that Dany began to realize just how exhausted Gib really must be. His skin was taut across his cheekbones, his usually full mouth thinned and tucked in at the corners as if he were experiencing some kind of pain. Darkness hovered beneath his eyes. At the discovery of his evident suffering, Dany gave a little cry of distress. Hearing a muffled cry, Gib jerked around to see Dany standing in the doorway. No matter how he'd planned to guard his feelings, to control himself, the sight of her standing there, her eyes huge with anxiety, her lips parted and

looking incredibly lush and inviting, destroyed his resolve. She beautiful. Exquisitely beautiful in her uncertainty-poised as if whether to run from him or to him. Without taking time to think, himself striding toward her, his arms open, his heart ruling his As he swept Dany into screaming at him. All melted into his arms, not daring to believe

was not knowing Gib found needs.

his arms, Gib no longer cared what his head was he cared about, wanted, was this precious woman. As she her hands sliding up across his shoulders, he groaned, what he saw in her lustrous eyes.

Stunned Dany sank into Gib's welcoming arms. "Gib- I've missed you so much," she murmured, and tilted her head to meet his descending mouth. Her world rocked to a halt as his mouth hungrily found hers. He was strong, searching, seemingly starved for the taste and touch of her. With a moan, she matched his hunger, her breath coming in ragged gasps as he plundered her lips, asking for access and receiving it. The smell of him, the texture of his recently shaved face spurred her heightened, famished senses. As his hand captured her hips solidly against him, his other hand slowly moving down her spine, pressing her completely against his body, Dany grew weak with need. She felt as if she were melting into Gib. Unable to get enough of him, she kissed him repeatedly, her hands framing his face, reveling in the feel of his roughened, tanned skin. Sliding her fingers through the short, thick hair at the nape of his neck, she felt every nuance of her body flare with heat, with urgency. She felt the tension in Gib as well, the fine trembling that told her he was close to losing control. Every muscle in his neck stood out as she caressed him, then gently ran her fingers across his broad shoulders. Finally, slowly, Dany felt him ease her away from him just enough so that he could look down at her. She burned beneath the light in his shadowed gaze, a delicious sizzle of heat collecting deep within her, making her want him even more. As if in one of her many dreams, Dany reached up and caressed his cheek and jaw. Gib shuddered, his hands tightening momentarily on her upper arms. "Gib... this shouldn't be happening," Dany whispered unsteadily. Gib smiled shakily down at Dany, drowning in her lovely emerald eyes filled with what looked so much like love for him. He saw the golden flecks in her eyes, a sign that she was happy, and knew the feverish kisses they'd shared had been responsible. "I'm glad it happened-" And Gib couldn't say anything more because Dany threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself completely against him. He took her full weight and stood, holding her, his eyes closed. This was what he'd wanted. What he'd needed above all else. "You're all I'll ever need," he managed to say huskily. "All I'll ever want. God, how I've missed you, Dany, missed hearing your voice...seeing you...." He buried his face in the mass of her thick black hair. The urge to un-braid it and sift it through his hands had been part of the torrid dreams that haunted him each night. It would be so easy to do it now. Burying her face against his damp cotton shirt, Dany couldn't say anything. She simply clung to Gib, feeling his heart beat raggedly against her, feeling his warm breath cascade across her. His hands lovingly stroked her back and shoulders-a dream come true. For the first time that she could remember, Dany surrendered herself utterly to someone else. How long she stood in the protective and loving circle of Gib's arm, she didn't know. It didn't matter. When Ma Ling entered the room, Gib was the first to notice her. Reluctantly, he eased Dany away from him, his voice shaken. "I think our iced tea's here," he told her thickly.

Embarrassed that Ma Ling had seen her in Gib's arms, Dany moved away on unsteady legs. Her nanny's eyes didn't show disapproval, only sadness. Dany raised a nervous hand to her flaming cheek and thanked Ma Ling as the mamasan silently deposited the tray on the coffee table and left. Standing in the quiet room, Dany stared at Gib. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes narrowed with fire. She trembled inwardly at how badly she wanted him. "Please," she whispered, making a weak gesture toward the sofa, "come and sit down." Reluctantly, Gib picked up his briefcase, his heart torn and heavy. He had kissed Dany as if he'd never get a chance to kiss or taste her again. Her lips were slightly swollen from his plundering hunger, and he felt guilty. Setting the briefcase down alongside the sofa, Gib walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes were lustrous and dazed, telling him more clearly than words could, how she felt about him. When she tried to smile, the effort went straight through him, making him bleed even more for what he had to tell her. Gib hated himself. Hated what his message was going to do to them. His grip on her shoulders tightened. "Listen, sit down. We've got something serious to discuss, Dany." Desperation filled him. "Look, no matter what I have to say, I want you to understand I didn't approve it, and I don't condone it. Do you understand that, Dany?" Gib saw the joy in her eyes begin to dim at the warning tone in his voice. His whole world was coming apart before him. He was going to lose Dany. He knew it.

Chapter Eight Gib's hands were sweaty as he sat down next to Dany. "There's no easy way to say this," he told her hoarsely. "I'm here under orders, Dany." Dany saw the agony in Gib's eyes, not understanding why he was so upset. Still shaky in the aftermath of their fiery kisses, she shrugged. "Just tell me, Gib. It's all right." If only he could take away the hurt he knew was going to inflict upon her. "I'm here as a liaison officer," Gib said grimly, "a person who negotiates for high command. Dany, the government wants to buy your plantation and turn it into a heliport." He saw the shock register in her eyes and dove on. "They've authorized me to offer you eight hundred thousand dollars in U.S. funds, if you'll sell, and-" A cry wrenched from her and she stumbled to her feet. "No! Oh, Gib, you aren't serious, are you?" She stared down at him, her eyes round with disbelief. "I'm dead serious, Dany." Gesturing to the file he'd set on the coffee table earlier, Gib said, "All the papers are in there for you to sign. My government is willing to pay you fair market value for your land.'' He forced himself to look up at Dany, trying to steel himself for what he knew he'd see. The accusation in her eyes was there, along with anger and the pain of betrayal. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anything about this until yesterday afternoon." "How could you?" Dany cried, her voice breaking. "How could you do this to me, Gib? You came here as a friend, someone who I...who I care about!" Angrily, she pointed to the file. "And now you bring me this outrageous, ridiculous

proposal?" Slowly, Gib stood. He opened his hands toward her. "Look, I know you're upset and angry, Dany, but I had no idea when we met that I'd be coming here in this capacity. Please, you've got to believe me." Dany moved away. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back. "I feel used, Gib," she rasped. "Betrayed-by you." Hurt jagged through Gib and on its heels, anger. How frail and close to shattering Dany looked. "Look, there's more to this than you realize,'' he continued, hating every word. "You have to sell. You don't have a choice. I asked Colonel Parsons, and he said that if you didn't willingly sign over your land, Logistics and the Vietnamese government would somehow get the property away from you anyway." He saw the color drain from her face. "I'm sorry, Dany. I wish-I wish I could do something to stop this, to turn back the clock." "Wishes!" Dany spat, clenching her fists at her side. "All I wished for was a neutral peace for my people and my land. Is that too much to ask?" Her voice shook with real anger. "I was born in this house, and I'll die here! I'm not selling and I'm not moving. Not ever." Gib held onto his frustration. "Dany, if this was in my hands, if I could stop the military from taking your home, I would." Blindly, Dany lashed out, slapping his face. The sound seemed to echo through the suddenly quiet room. Horrified at what she'd just done, Dany stepped back, pressing her hand to her mouth. Gib winced and stood there in the aftermath, a look of hurt in his eyes as he raised his hand to touch the reddening spot on his right cheek. "I guess I had that coming," he muttered. With a cry, Dany moved forward. Gib stopped her. "No," he rasped, "I'm okay." "I-I'm sorry, Gib. I'm angry and-" "No," he said roughly. Stepping away, he jabbed his finger toward the papers on the coffee table. "I'm sorry you can't separate me from these damned orders, Dany. I didn't want anything to do with this. I know what the land means to you. Read the documents, Dany. If you have any questions, contact me at the base. I'll try and help you as much as I can." Gib spun on his heel and stalked out of the house. As the screen door closed behind him, Dany stood shaking. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a sob caught in her throat. Sensing someone in the room, Dany looked up. Ma Ling stood at the entrance, her eyes sad. "You heard?" Dany rasped, her throat nearly closed with tears. "Yes." Ma Ling came forward and put her arms around Dany. Giving Ma Ling a squeeze, Dany realized that her nanny needed her support. "I won't give up the plantation," she told her thickly. Patting her, Ma Ling stepped away, her dark eyes filled with compassion. "No

one should be in this position." With a small, explosive laugh, Dany looked around. "I hurt him terribly, Ma Ling. I didn't mean to. I was just-" Her voice died in her throat. "I'm just so tired of fighting all these battles alone. When Gib told me, I lost control." She pressed her hand to her brow. She needed to be alone, to think and feel her way through all of this. "I'll be in my room for a while," she whispered as she walked past Ma Ling. Once in her room, Dany collapsed on her large, canopied bed. The delicate mosquito netting was pulled aside, looking more like curtain than protection. Dany released a shaky sigh. She had no defense against this final, shattering decision thrust upon her by the military. She looked down at her bare, dirty feet, and thought idly that she needed a shower. Maybe it would help put things in perspective. Pain tugged at her heart as she remembered how she'd lashed out at Gib, using him as a whipping post for the wrongs brought to bear against her and the land she loved. Stepping out of the shower later, Dany patted herself dry with a thick pink cotton towel. After dressing in a fresh ao dai-the body hugging silk pants a deep apricot, the dress ivory-Dany felt a little better. But not much. Her battered heart swung from sheer fear of losing her home to guilt at the terrible way she'd treated Gib. She descended the stairs in the quiet house, and entered the room that held all the pictures of her parents. For long minutes, she studied each of the photos, as if her answer might be there. Suddenly chilly, Dany rubbed her hands over her arms. Her parents had never been there for her- ever, she realized with finality. Yet Gib had been there in so many ways-both small and important ways-since she'd met him. He'd saved her life, stopping her from approaching the blazing Renault that had held her dead mother. Then he'd offered emotional support after the funeral, despite the fact he was the investigating officer. When he'd learned that his uniform could potentially destroy the plantation's neutrality, he'd come in civilian clothes. Drawing in a painful breath, Dany stood thinking. It was Gib who had saved Vinh's life, too. He hadn't had to call in a military medevac to take Vinh to Da Nang. And most of all, there was the gentle and sensitive way he had dealt with Vinh after the injury. Closing her eyes, Dany realized how much of a fool she'd been. Gib's loyalty to her was unquestionable. How could she ever have felt betrayed by him? Gib hadn't betrayed her, the Marine Corps had. Tears flooded her eyes. Her world was shredding apart, piece by piece. Every day she lost something else of value, something she loved. Hurting for herself, and because she'd wounded Gib with her misplaced anger and frustration, Dany knew she had to see him. The way he'd kissed her, the way they'd come together, couldn't be erased- couldn't be ignored. Reaching over, she slung the straw purse over her shoulder. Evening had fallen as she left the house and walked to the white Citroen. She might not be able to control what happened to her home, Dany thought, but it was within her control to at least apologize in person to Gib. That was something she could change. There was so much she wanted to say to him, share with him. Was it too late? Would he even see her, much less forgive her? She would call Marble Mountain security, and get permission to go on board to see Gib under the pretense of official business.

Gib sat in his tent, working on a new batch of requisitions to order spare

parts for his helicopter squadron. His head jerked up as a light knock sounded at the door. It was 2000, dark, and he couldn't see who it was. Frowning, he moved from the desk, his boots thudding hollowly on the plywood floor. When he opened the door, his eyes narrowed. "Dany." He saw the terrible uncertainty in her eyes, in every tense line of her body. "I-Gib, I had to see you. I need to apologize for what I said-did-to you today." The terrible weariness flew from him. "Shh, honey, apology isn't necessary," he reassured her. "Your home, your way of life is threatened. If I was in your shoes, I'd probably barricade the place up and hold them off at gunpoint." Dany stood there, stunned once again by Gib's understanding. He smiled slightly-a smile filled with exhaustion. "Come in. I'm afraid all I can offer you is a cup of powdered coffee from an aluminum mug." She gripped the straw purse, her heart beating triple time. "I-I'd like that." Just watching Dany glide into his tent was like getting his first breath of air after a long period of suffocation. Gib closed the door quietly behind her and brought his chair out from behind his desk for her to sit on. He could see how tense she was. "Relax," he coaxed, "I don't bite, contrary to popular opinion. You still want that coffee?" Dany sat down and looked up into his harsh, shadowed features-at first glance a warrior's mask. But when she clung to his gaze, she saw nothing but warmth and felt his intense protection embracing her. "I-no, not really. My stomach's tied in knots." Gib sat down on the cot opposite her. He folded his hands between his legs, his elbows resting on his thighs. Trying to give her a smile that would ease her nervousness, Gib drawled, "Yeah, mine's been feeling like there's a war being waged in there." "Since our fight?" "Yeah." He smiled more deeply. "You look a hell of a lot better for our argument than I do." In fact, Dany looked breathtakingly beautiful, he thought, the ivory and apricot colors she wore bringing out the flushed rosiness of her cheeks. Her fingers continued to work nervously at her straw purse. Dany felt the shame well up in her under his kind gaze. "I've never hit anyone before in my whole life, Gib," she quavered. "I'm sorry. Just because the messenger brings bad news doesn't mean he should be punished for it." "No one has ever tried taking your home away from you, either," he reminded her gently. She held his understanding gaze. "I don't believe you're involved in this scheme to steal my land. I have no reason not to trust you." Relief, sweet and hot, coursed through Gib. "Thank God," he rasped. "Honey, I tried to fight city hall on this. My colonel would merely have given the

assignment to another officer if I refused it." Wryly, he held her surprised expression. "I didn't want that to happen, Dany, so I told him I'd take it." "I didn't know," Dany whispered. "We really didn't get past first base with one another on the details Dany." With a shrug, Gib added gently, "Hell, I would've been just as mad." He smiled into her huge, tear-filled eyes. "I forgave you already, Dany. Now, forgive yourself and let's talk about some things I've had a chance to look at a little more closely since this afternoon." Dany nodded. It was all she could do not to get up and throw her arms around Gib's broad shoulders. He forgave her-already. "I've been such a fool-about so many things." "Never a fool," Gib said huskily. "Just a woman who's fighting to hold on to what she loves." Dany fumbled in her purse for the file Gib had given her earlier. "You said they'd take my plantation even if I didn't agree to sell it to them?" With a nod, Gib said, "I tried talking to General Hunter down in Saigon late this afternoon to find out if he wouldn't be happy with a bordering piece of property, but he said the plan was already in motion and couldn't be changed." Her heart fell as she studied the legal forms in her trembling hands. "But how could they force me?" she asked, then muttered, "Never mind, I know how. They'll bribe the Vietnamese officials to cancel the property deed in my name, transfer it to the government, then sell the land to your government." Bitterly, she added, "I know how they work, the bastards." Gib couldn't recall ever feeling so helpless, even when his helicopter was being shot at by ground fire. "Maybe we can find a way for you to keep your home.'' Dany gasped. How could she ever have doubted Gib's loyalty to her? She trusted him now-with her life, if necessary. "How?" "What if you hired an attorney from Saigon to fight your case?" She grimaced. "Any lawyer in Vietnam can be bought, Gib. I'd have to have a sizeable amount to bribe not only him but the court system to find in my favor, too. I'm sure your government could more than match any amount I gave these men." Unhappily, Gib saw her point. "What about the French embassy? What if you went and talked to those officials? You're a French citizen." Dany leaned back, her mind and heart in utter chaos. "I don't know. I've been so upset at hurting you, I haven't really thought about those kinds of things." Gib straightened. "It's worth a try, isn't it?" "Maybe," Dany conceded softly, thinking about Gib's idea. "I'd have to get an appointment with the French embassy and fly down to Saigon." "Then call and make that appointment, Dany." She gave him a pained look. "My world's caving in around me, Gib. I'm having a

hard time separating truth from lies." Gib leaned forward. "Honey, you and I have something special, something that not even the war can touch." He held her shimmering gaze. In a soft, strained tone he said, "Let me prove myself to you by my actions. Fair enough?" His touch was galvanizing, and it steadied her tautly strung nerves. "Wh-what do you mean?" With a twist of his mouth, Gib said, "How would you like to fly down to Saigon with me? I can get a C-130 scheduled from here to take us down. If I tell Colonel Parsons you want to talk further with General Hunter about your property, he'll approve the flight. Maybe if you get Hunter to realize you were born here, realize what this land means to you, he'll rescind the order." Gib shrugged. "And if he won't, we still have the option of going to the French embassy and asking them for help." Gib ached to hold her again, to kiss away the hurt reflected in the line of her lips, but he stopped himself. Dany nodded her agreement. "Good," he whispered. "Let me get things set in motion. I'll call you as soon as I get the colonel's approval. I'll tentatively set up a flight for day after tomorrow." He held her gaze, now filled with genuine hope. In a whisper he said, "That's another thing I like about you, Dany-you never give up." She shook her head and looked down at the file in her hands. "How can I give up part of me, Gib? I don't have any choice but to fight." "Well," he said, rising, "you've got me at your side. We'll fight this together." Rallying, Dany said, "Through thick and thin?" "Yeah, honey. Through thick and thin." A wild, keening ache filled Gib. Staring down at Dany's drawn features, he realized just how much the information had exhausted her. "You'd better get going," he said gently. "It's been a hell of a day for you. I'll be in touch."

Ma Ling was with Dany in the drawing room the next morning when Gib's call came. Dany turned to her nanny after she'd finished speaking to him. Taking Ma Ling's thin but strong hand, she said, "It's set. Tomorrow morning Gib wants me to drive over to Marble Mountain and meet him. The C-130 pilot will fly us down to Saigon." "This is a two-day trip, my daughter." Ma Ling tilted her small, gray head. "We must sit and talk." Wearily, Dany nodded and took a seat next to Ma Ling on the blue silk couch. It struck her how different her foster mother was in comparison to her real mother. Ma Ling seemed to know that she needed to be touched and reassured, to have her hand held. Amy Lou had never reached out or hugged Dany when she'd needed it the most. Now Ma Ling's expressive brown eyes searched hers in the gathering silence. "We must talk of this man, Gib Ramsey. Since you have met him, I have never seen you happier-or sadder. He touches your heart, my daughter?" Dany closed her eyes and took an unsteady breath. "Yes, he does."

"And what of this business of wanting our home? Do you feel he has tricked you?" Opening her eyes, Dany held Ma Ling's tender gaze. Her nanny's hands cupped her own, as if in silent support. "I don't want to believe Gib set me up. When I look in his eyes, I don't see trickery or deceit. I never have, since I met him." "What do you see then?" She smiled painfully. "Care. Concern..." "Love?" Dany sat very still beneath Ma Ling's patient inspection. "I-I don't know," she said, stumbling over the words. "I haven't known Gib that long. It's too soon to tell." "He's an American, a man of war. He's someone who will leave and go home to America." "Believe me," Dany said in a trembling voice, "I know that." "And yet, you open your arms, your heart to him?" She nodded and chewed on her lower lip. "I'm afraid to call it love for all those reasons, Ma Ling. There's just this feeling I have that Gib's loyal to me. Last night he promised to stand by me no matter what happens. I believe him. My head screams at me he's like every other GI I've seen over here. When his tour's up, he'll leave me-leave my heart, my feelings for him behind, as if they really didn't count, after all." Patting her hand gently, Ma Ling nodded. "Time is the wisdom of the heart, my daughter. Time will yield all the answers you need to decide about this man and his intentions." "He's like me," Dany went on in a whisper. "He loves the land, and he's family-oriented. He's sensitive about my needs and doesn't try and tear me down like other men have. He respects my way of life, what I want to do with it. Gib supports me." "Your heart is open to him," Ma Ling said, worry wrinkling her brow. "For so long you have been without a man to love you as you are. I wish he was Vietnamese, not an American GI. Maybe then things could work out." Dany couldn't disagree with Ma Ling's insight. She knew her foster mother was showing her concern for her. Ma Ling was always there for her if she needed a pep talk, a hug or words of wisdom. It was unbearable to think what might happen if the plantation was stolen out from beneath them. What would happen to the fifty families who had been a part of the Villard way of life since the 1930s? The mere thought brought on the worst kind of pain Dany had ever felt in her life. "I have to trust Gib on this. In my heart, I believe he's on our side." Ma Ling smiled and gave Dany's hand one last squeeze before she stiffly rose to her feet. "Ever since you were born I have wished for only one thing for you, my daughter. I have wished that you would know true happiness, because you've always done so much for all of us without thought or regard for your own needs."

Dany sat alone in the drawing room after Ma Ling left, her hands folded in the lap of her dark blue pajamas. She hung her head, overwhelmed with fear, anxiety and worry. Yet, through it all, she clung to the memory of Gib's face. Tomorrow couldn't come too soon. Perhaps Dany could convince General Hunter to change his mind. Perhaps.

Gib stood when he saw Dany come out of General Hunter's richly appointed office at the end of the hall. Since this was official business, he had changed out of his comfortable dark green flight suit after landing at Tan Son Nhut air base, and into his summer uniform. The short-sleeved tan shirt and tan pants were crisply starched. He gripped his utility cap tightly, seeing even at a distance the look on Dany's face. Despite her disappointed expression, she looked fresh and lovely in a sleeveless white dress with an Empire waistline that complimented her height and slenderness. Dark blue piping around the throat and down the center of the dress made it look more businesslike, and Dany had accented it with navy blue heels and a small leather handbag of the same color. The earrings she wore were of lapis lazuli surrounded with gold. Even her hair had been carefully arranged into a French roll, the wispy bangs barely touching her brows. Gib had had one hell of a time keeping his eyes off Dany throughout their flight and drive here. Now, as she walked out of the office, other passing Marines gave her appreciative looks, and Dany blushed furiously. Gib wished mightily that their two days in Saigon weren't business, but pleasure. The spacious hall of the Logistics HQ building was laid with dark green and ivory floor tile. Gib walked forward, meeting Dany halfway. He gave her a slight smile of welcome and settled the hat on his head as they continued slowly on their way. "How did it go?" he asked, although her expression foretold her response. She grimaced. There were too many Marines around, and she didn't want her comments to be overheard. "I'll tell you in a few minutes." Gib nodded, realizing Dany wasn't really comfortable in a military environment. Her trust extended only to him, not to the men in the hall around them. He guided her to the elevator, where they waited with seven other Marines dressed in carefully starched, perfectly ironed uniforms. It was a far cry from Marble Mountain, Gib thought, looking around at the young, eager faces of the officers. Every Marine gawked at Dany. Gib smiled to himself. When the doors whooshed open, he cupped her elbow and helped her into the elevator. Gib could feel Dany trembling. It wasn't obvious, but his senses were acutely tuned to her. She stood head high, eyes staring straight ahead at the brass doors, her purse gripped tightly in front of her. The humidity made the air as spongelike in Saigon as it was up north. Gib wanted to get out of his uniform and into civilian clothes, an act which wouldn't be long in coming. It was noon, and he decided that they should go back to the Caravelle Hotel, where he'd gotten two rooms. He would change into civilian clothes and they'd have lunch. Then he'd take her to the French embassy. As they left the building, the odors of Saigon assailed Gib's nose. He hailed a taxi from the corner, thinking that although Saigon, with its French-colonial beauty and its colorful bougainvillea climbing pastel stucco walls, was called the flower of the Orient, it was more garbage dump than paradise. Once Saigon had been a city of flowering orchids, thus gaining its

name. But as foreign influence came in, the city had begun to decay. Gib didn't know how anyone could overlook the obvious squalor and poor sanitation conditions in lieu of Saigon's supposed "beauty." As he ushered Dany into the cab and sat down beside her, he winced at the odor of human waste combined with the acrid smell of car exhaust that hung continually over the sprawling, decadent city. The only relief from it all was Dany's clean smell, and the lily-of-the-valley perfume she wore. After instructing the cabbie to drive them to the hotel, Gib turned his attention to Dany. "Well?" he asked, picking up her hand and holding it. "What happened?" Gib's hand was warm and steadying. "General Hunter was very nice, very smooth and political, with all the right answers and smiles, but the bottom line is he wants my home, Gib." Her lower lip trembled. "Damn him." Fortunately the Caravelle wasn't far away. Paying the cab driver in piasters, Gib took Dany inside the spacious hotel and over to the bank of elevators. He had to keep his hands off her in public, when in reality he wanted to slide his arm around her shoulders, draw her next to him and simply hold her. She was devastated, her once proudly held shoulders now drooping with the terrible weight of reality. At the fifth floor, they got off the elevator. Gib reclaimed her damp, cool hand as they walked down the Oriental-rug-carpeted hall toward their rooms. "I want to get out of this uniform before we eat, Dany." He slanted a glance down at her dejected features. "I'm not really very hungry, Gib." "You're going to eat." She lifted her chin and held his warm hazel gaze. "Is that an order, Major?" He halted at his room and opened the door. "You'd better believe it. Come on in. This will only take a minute." Dany entered Gib's suite and stood near the huge bed as he shed the shirt, now stained with sweat. At the sight of him in his T-shirt, she was struck more strongly than ever by his sheer masculinity. Gib was powerfully built despite his height, and Dany felt sudden, unexpected heat rise within her. The white T-shirt outlined his massive chest and powerful shoulders to breathtaking perfection. Gib seemed completely oblivious to her inspection of him as he dug through the small leather bag he'd brought, hunting for a set of civilian clothes. Her mouth suddenly dry, Dany moved away from the brass double bed and over to the open balcony doors overlooking the fenced swimming pool below. Her heart was beating erratically in her breast, and the realization she was in his room shook Dany. It had seemed so natural to follow him in here while he changed clothes. But there was nothing appropriate about it, according to her strict upbringing. Walking out onto the small wrought-iron balcony, Dany rested her hand against the sun-warmed rail. Moments later, she felt Gib come up behind her. "Ready?" he asked. Dany turned. The heated, naked look Gib gave her made her feel as if she were

melting on the spot. The blazing hunger of his inspection reminded her all over again of the wild, starving kisses they'd traded at the plantation. Dany tried to escape the heat flowing through her. She did her best to focus on how Gib was dressed to casual perfection in a light blue button-down shirt and charcoal gray slacks. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Dany's cheeks were rose-petal pink, enhancing her delicate features. When her lips unconsciously parted as she turned toward him, Gib groaned inwardly. The scorching thought that he could sweep her into his arms, carry her to his bed and make long, slow love to her all afternoon left him dizzy with longing. He ached to reach out and tame several loose ebony tendrils into place against her temple. Dany lowered her lashes, wildly aware of Gib as a man, as someone she desperately wanted to explore, to know on so many other levels. Gripping her small bag, she eased past him, her bare shoulder grazing his chest as she slipped through the sliding glass door into the room. Gib found himself holding his breath as Dany's shoulder touched him. His skin prickled beneath his shirt, and he forced himself to get a grip on his unraveling emotions. He picked up his wallet from the top of the dresser and settled it into his back pocket. Giving her a smile, he whispered, "Let's go have lunch together."

"You've barely touched your salad, Dany." "I know." She forced herself to use the fork to stab some lettuce and baby shrimp. Gib looked around the spacious, modern restaurant. The Caravelle was a popular American business hotel, with frequent travelers from stateside. The large-windowed room was tastefully arranged with tropical plants, the small tables decorated with fresh flowers and white linen. Comfortable bamboo furniture with jade green cushions graced the quiet place-a haven compared to the war escalating beyond the hotel's doors, Gib thought. He focused his attention on Dany. "Come on, you have to eat enough to keep your strength up for Monsieur Gerard," Gib said, referring to the ambassador's assistant that Dany had made an appointment with. Trying to smile for Gib's benefit, Dany ate a few more bites before pushing the plate away. A waiter dressed in white jacket, black slacks and a long white apron whisked it from the table. Dany studied Gib's features. Today the look of exhaustion had lifted from his darkly tanned features. Instead, she saw happiness glinting in his eyes, and her spirits lightened. "You're happy." "Why shouldn't I be?" Gib teased her. "I'm with you." Dany looked around the serene restaurant. "This would have been a fun trip if it wasn't over such a serious matter." Reaching out, Gib captured her hand. "Honey, I'm glad to be with you no matter what the reason. Okay?" She forced a small smile and squeezed his fingers. "Okay."

Changing the subject, he asked, "Have you ever come close to marriage?'' Dany eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. "Twice," she admitted. "And?" With a shrug, Dany muttered, "It didn't work out. They were Frenchmen who didn't want to live in Vietnam. I refused to live in France." She held his gaze. "What about you? Why aren' t you married?'' It bothered Gib that Dany wouldn't consider leaving this country. Trying to put aside his disappointment, he said, "Guess I just never met the lady that would knock me off my feet like a Texas thunderstorm and leave me breathless." Until now. The desire to cherish Dany, to continue the easy intimacy she brought out in him was something he never wanted to let go. His eyes narrowed as he met and held her warm gaze. The dream of loving Dany, of marrying her, flowed through Gib like a quiet, deep river. He'd never held onto a dream of marriage because of his career and its demands. Marriage had never seemed essential to his lifestyle-until this very moment. Now, as Gib drowned in Dany's lambent gaze, he knew this was the woman he wanted for himself-forever. But he couldn't admit any of his sudden discoveries to her. They were too fresh, too exhilarating, too filled with hope and very real fear. Dany smiled. There was such utter humility about Gib. There was a simpleness to him she liked so much that it set her heart to beating harder in her breast. "You have a lot to offer a woman." "What? Change of bases every two to three years? Me being gone half the time?" Gib shook his head and tried to combat the image of Dany loving him, wanting to marry him as much as he did her. "No, the women I've been close to in the past have all had a problem with my career, and I can't say I blame them. Sinking roots is important, and so is staying in one place instead of being a tumbleweed in the wind." "You could always get out and return to ranching. I'm sure that would appeal to a woman." "Maybe you're right, honey. Maybe I'm being selfish about all this. My love of flying is in my blood." "But the land is in your blood, too." He nodded pensively. "Yeah, I spilled lots of blood on the ranch, mostly from the blisters on my hands. No, you're right-the ranch is a large part of me, too. I just haven't figured out a way to have both in my life. I had to make a decision, and I chose flying." "Do you ever regret that decision, Gib?" He regretted it right now in ways he'd never thought possible. Suddenly Dany seemed as important to him as breathing. "Yeah, this last tour in Vietnam, I have." "How so?" "I came over here in 1963, when we had only American advisors in Vietnam. I liked what we did in working alongside the ARVN and the people of the hamlets and villages." He frowned and looked beyond her. "I like helping people, but I

don't like having to kill. Maybe some of these chopper jockies enjoy the excitement and danger, but I don't. There are stories going around that some of the door gunners on these helicopters are starting to fire indiscriminately at anyone in a rice paddy. That isn't right. Not every Vietnamese fanner is VC. This whole thing's getting out of hand. I had one door gunner come to me the other day in confidence and tell me he wasn't going to fly with a certain pilot because he'd ordered him to shoot at any water buffalo, kid and old person he spotted working out in the paddies." Taking a deep breath, Dany whispered, "My God. What did you do?" "I called in the pilot who was doing it and asked him if it was true," Gib said grimly. "He said it was. I chewed him out, but he got angry." "Whatever for?" "Because he felt it was his right to kill. He said we were in a wartime situation and all Vietnamese were VC in one form or another." "That isn't true!'' Dany cried. "The peasants have survived because they offered no overt resistance to those who've struggled to take power. Just because we don't fight the VC doesn't mean we agree with their political beliefs or methods, Gib. The peasants have learned over thousands of years that pacifism has allowed them to survive where nothing else would." "I understand that," he soothed, seeing how distraught she'd become. "I placed the pilot on flight waivers, and there will be an investigation. I'm doing what I can, Dany, but I'm one person among a bunch of people who view this as a war where every Vietnamese is beginning to look like the enemy." Dany sat in silence, absorbing his story. "At least there are some men like you." She was touched by his humanity, but at the same time her tenuous hope that there could be something lasting between them was dashed. He was a warrior-a tumbleweed. When his tour was up, Gib would leave Vietnam-and her. A desperation filled Dany. No matter how strong the warnings from her head, her heart and body cried out for him. Hour by hour she was rapidly losing all her defenses against him. Gib's mouth pulled into a grimace. He rallied and gave her a smile. "Ready to take on the French, Miss Villard?" "Ready, Major."

"And so," Philipe Gerard told them across an ornate antique table, "I will do what I can for you, Mademoiselle Villard." Trying to hold on to her surprise, Dany stared across the table. "You think the American embassy might listen to you?" Gerard, thin and thirtyish, his black mustache and eyes giving him an intense cast, shrugged eloquently. "No promises, mademoiselle, but you are a French citizen and this is a French plantation." Gib leaned forward, afraid to hope for Dany. "Even if Miss Villard carries dual citizenship with France and America? You don't feel this can hurt her case?" Again, Gerard shrugged. "I should think not, Major Ramsey. But who knows? All

we can do is delicately investigate this issue and try to intercede in Mademoiselle Villard's behalf." Dany rose and gripped Gerard's hand. "Thank you, Monsieur Gerard. You don't know how good this makes me feel." Gib shook the assistant ambassador's hand and gave him a nod. If the Marine Corps ever found out he was here in the French embassy conspiring to help save Dany's home, all hell would break loose. Still, looking at her glowing face, her beautiful eyes filled with hope, Gib knew he wouldn't want to be any other place than at her side at this moment. "Adieu," Gerard called to them. "I will be in contact with you as soon as possible, Mademoiselle Villard." Dany smiled and forced back the tears that threatened. "I can hardly wait! Thanks so much." It was nearly three o'clock as they left the French embassy. On the marble steps of the consulate, Dany gripped Gib's hand and smiled up at him. "I can't believe it! There's hope, Gib. Real hope!" "That's the best news yet," he agreed, hailing another cab as they stepped onto the sidewalk. Gib didn't want to ruin Dany's happy mood. She deserved to hope. Gib was all too aware that Gerard had delicately walked around what the embassy might honestly be able to do to protect Dany's land from Vietnamese and U.S. government encroachment. Still, Gib prayed that there really was reason to hope. Gerard had promised to begin making inquiries with both the U.S. consulate and the Vietnam government on her behalf. Only time would tell. Inside the cab on their way back to the hotel, Dany confessed, "I feel like celebrating now!" He grinned. "Anything the lady wants." Dany clapped her hands. "I'd love to go dancing, Gib. The Caravelle has a wonderful ballroom. Did you see it?" His smile broadened. "Sure did. You like to dance?" Gib guessed that with her tall, willowy body she'd be a sensuous dancer, and an ache automatically seized him. Dany would be like liquid sunlight in his hands. He knew it with every fiber of his being. "I love to dance! Did I tell you that Maman had me study ballet since I was six years old?" Dany playfully made several graceful movements with her hands and arms. Gib's eyes narrowed on her, making her feel suddenly giddy and reckless. With a silent laugh, Dany tucked her hands back in her lap. "Well, that was a long time ago. I studied ballet at the Sorbonne, too, but my degree in economics won out. The dance master at the university said I could make ballet my life, that I had just enough talent to be part of the corps de ballet, but nothing beyond that. He didn't feel I had what it took to be a prima ballerina." With a wrinkle of her nose, Dany smiled. "I didn't like the idea of being stuck forever in the corps, so I graciously declined his offer. The last few years I've strayed from serious bar work, but I still try to do my stretching exercises. I guess I'll always love the dance-it's part of my soul." "You're number one in my book in everything," Gib said huskily.

"Are you good at dancing?" "I'm about as coordinated as a bull in a china shop, honey." Laughing delightedly, Dany leaned up and kissed his damp cheek. She could smell the light hint of spicy cologne on his skin and feel the prickle of his beard although he'd obviously shaved this morning. Gib was one of those men who would always have five o'clock shadow. In Dany's eyes, it only made him more alluring. Her chaste kiss caught Gib off guard, but he liked her sudden spontaneity. For the first time, he was getting a taste of her childlike side. Capturing her hand, he smiled down at her. "We'll do some heavy celebrating tonight, honey. That's a promise." "And I brought such a lovely dress-just in case," Dany confided excitedly. "First I'll take you to dinner, and then we'll dance." Dany gripped his arm, sudden joy shimmering through her. "I'm so happy the ambassador's assistant has agreed to help. This whole trip gives me hope for saving the plantation. Tonight will be like a fairy tale come true for me, Gib-getting to spend time with you, getting to dance!" "Well," Gib promised her thickly, brushing her flushed cheek with his thumb, "we'll dance until we fall exhausted into each other's arms." Her eyes shone with happiness. "I can hardly wait," she breathed softly.

Chapter Nine Gib couldn't contain his reaction to Dany as she walked-no, floated-toward him as he waited by the maitre d's station. Every man in the Caravelle Hotel seemed to stop what he was doing and stare at Dany as she moved through the lobby. Her silk skirt was ballet length, clinging and flowing with each of her boneless movements, the color shimmering from pale lavender to deep red-violet beneath the chandelier lights. The blouse had a scooped neck, and the long dolman sleeves were like wings caught in a gentle breeze as she moved. A delicate gold chain captured the silk fabric at her waist, emphasizing her slenderness, her beauty. Certainly, Gib felt that right now she was a prima ballerina, moving with such breathtaking grace. Her ebony hair was caught up in a French twist, glinting with bluish highlights, while tendrils softly touched her temples. Small gold earrings and a gold choker at the base of her sculpted throat finished her elegant outfit, and Gib felt a mixture of awe, desire and pride as he watched her approach. As she neared him, her cheeks flushed and she held out her hand with a smile. Smiling confidently in return, Gib captured her fingers in his own. "You look stunning," he rasped, and leaned down to kiss her cheek lightly in welcome. The heady scent of her lily-of-the-valley perfume enveloped him, and Gib drank deeply of the combination of it with the natural fragrance of her dusky golden skin. Feeling breathless, Dany smiled hesitantly, thrilled by Gib's attention, his warm welcome and unexpected kiss. "I didn't realize I'd cause such a stir," she began softly, surprise in her tone. "Did you see all those men staring at me? I was just hoping I wouldn't trip and fall on my face and embarrass

myself!" With a grin, Gib cupped her elbow and followed the maitre d'. "Honey, you're a good-looking woman and there isn't a man among them who doesn't appreciate it. They paid you a compliment." He was struck by Dany's innocence. Some women were very aware of how they affected men, exaggerating the sway of their hips, dressing for attention. But Dany was genuinely surprised by male attention, not realizing her power over them-or him. Perhaps it was her old-fashioned upbringing or the plantation's remoteness that had protected Dany. Whatever was responsible, Gib couldn't have been happier watching her discover her femininity, her uniqueness as a woman and the impact it had on him and others. "This is something new to me, Gib." She laughed delightedly, the sound like an alto bell, clear and pristine, flowing from her throat. "Really, don't you think they'd stare in horror instead, if they saw me barefoot and in my cotton work clothes at the plantation?" Gib pulled out a chair for her. Their table was in a choice corner with a view of Saigon's twinkling lights out either panel of windows. "They'd do a double take," he agreed with a grin. "But I saw your beauty no matter what you wore," he added conspiratorially. He liked the way she didn't let the attention go to her head. Above all, Dany was practical-another of her traits that appealed strongly to him. It also told him that Dany saw herself as plain, honestly not realizing her outward beauty. Gib wanted to be the man to make her aware of not only the beauty she carried in her generous heart, but of her physical beauty and how much she affected him as a man. Gib's last statement was true, Dany conceded, warming to his compliment. He'd seen the real Dany Villard back at the plantation. Tonight she felt like a fairy princess who had been granted one wish-a wonderful wish of spending time alone with Gib, getting to know him better under less dangerous and strained circumstances. As he took his seat next to her, she thought how handsome he looked in his dark brown slacks and tan sports jacket. He wore a conservative white silk shirt and dark brown paisley tie, the colors emphasizing his dark tan and the vaguely dangerous quality that was always with him. Picking up her white linen napkin, Dany whispered, "I can hardly wait to dance!" "Just remember," Gib warned her dryly, "that this Texan has two left feet. But I'll do my best not to step all over your dainty little toes."

The hotel orchestra was composed mainly of stringed instruments and a grand piano. Dany had long since shed her heels in favor of dancing barefoot. She wished out loud for a pair of simple ballet slippers, but nylon would just have to do, she'd decided with a winsome smile. It was nearly one in the morning, but the dance floor was still filled with couples. Dany sighed contentedly, her head resting against Gib's chest, his arms tight around her as they flowed with the slow, quiet music. Lifting her chin, Dany smiled up into his shadowed face. "I don't want this night ever to end," she confided softly. After dinner they had gone directly into the ballroom, where the orchestra had begun playing 1950s music. The dance floor was highly polished golden teak, and at first Gib had been awkward dancing with Dany. But finally they'd discovered their own personal rhythm, a style of expression with each other, melting into a oneness that Dany loved. Gib hadn't stepped on her feet, and he was a much better dancer than he'd let on. Gib hadn't been able to get control of his racing pulse all night. Each time Dany pressed herself artlessly against him as they danced, his heart began

hammering counterpoint. She was soft and willowy against his harder, less graceful form, fitting and flowing like warm honey with him as each tune was played. For the first time in his life, Gib understood how music could enter one's soul and set it on fire. The way Dany moved and flowed with the beat had taught him that tonight. It was as if she hadn't a bone in her body, just an incredible suppleness as she entrusted herself to him letting the music express itself through her. Never had Gib felt so humbled, nor had he cherished a woman more. She was priceless. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her temple. Her sweet, fragrant scent entered his nostrils, and he murmured next to her ear, "The night doesn't have to end, Dany. We can watch the sun rise tomorrow morning-together." His heartbeat seemed suspended as he lifted his head to watch her expression in response to his suggestion. For the first time since meeting her, Gib felt that this time, this moment, could truly signal the beginning of a long-term relationship. One that he hoped would end in marriage to her. Never had he wanted anything more in life than he wanted Dany now-and this evening with her to continue without interruption. He wished the night never had to end, but if it did, he wanted her in his arms to watch the first rays of sunlight bathe the jungle stillness of Saigon's dawn. Dany's lips parted as she assimilated Gib's suggestion. The burning look in his eyes scalded her with new awareness of herself as a woman, and she felt without question that she wanted and needed him more than she ever had anything in her life. The tension in his body, a fine quiver that always seemed to be a part of him, coursed through her in that moment, and she absorbed his look, his need. Dany knew that in the end she would be left behind and forgotten. But this night was so magical that she had to remain a part of it. If only for one night, she would fully experience Gib's need of her, and she could finally share her harbored feelings and longings. "Yes," she whispered up at him. "Yes, I want to see the sun rise with you, Gib." As the song came to an end, Gib slowly eased her off the dance floor. He retrieved her heels and purse from the table where they'd been sitting, then, paying the bar bill, he smiled at Dany and slipped his arm around her shoulders. He'd never felt lighter or happier in his life. Was he in a dream? Was he really back at Marble Mountain dreaming all this while he slept on his hard, uncomfortable bunk? As they rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, then padded down the carpeted hall to his room, Gib no longer cared where reality and dreams met and overlapped. Moonlight streamed through the open sliding glass door, filling the room with velvet radiance as Dany halted near the entrance to the balcony. She let her purse and heels drop carelessly to the floor as Gib approached her, in turn dropping his sports coat to the carpet beside them. Dany smiled softly up at him in welcome. Lifting her arms, she glided into his embrace, pressed against him and felt the heavy beat of his heart against her breasts. His lips pressed a series of kisses against her hair, her cheek, and finally captured and worshipped her awaiting mouth. A soft moan rose in her as Gib kissed her tenderly, almost as if she were fragile and might break. His hands left her shoulders and slowly, gently, began to ease one pin after another from her captive tresses. In moments, her hair tumbled around her shoulders, and she felt him tremble as he shifted his hands through the silky cascade, a look of deep satisfaction softening his features. Each touch, each kiss drew her more deeply into the spun magic of him as a man

whose reverence for her seemed more unmistakable with each caress. Dany trembled as Gib's fingers brushed the buttons at the back of her blouse, and she leaned against him, her arms fitting around his waist as he freed the buttons one by one. The blouse opened and Dany stepped back to allow him to slip it off her. She felt no embarrassment as she lifted her lashes, melting beneath his narrowed, intent gaze as the blouse drifted to the carpet at their feet. The skirt fell away next, and she stood before him in a full-length pink slip that barely brushed her knees. "My and her him

God," Gib breathed unsteadily, "you are so beautiful, Dany, so perfect," he slid his fingers beneath the straps of the slip. It too slipped down body, exposing her tall, slender form, so proud and feminine that it made quiver.

Her smile was shy as she reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. "No less beautiful are you in my eyes," she whispered. His shirt came off and pooled beside her skirt and blouse. When Dany slid her fingers beneath his white cotton T-shirt, grazing his hard belly, she felt Gib tense, his breath suspended almost as if he were in pain. She tilted her head up to look at him, and he framed her face with his hands. "Your touch is like fire, honey. Hot, liquid fire to me." His words, dark and vibrating, rippled through her, and she moved the fabric upward, feeling each of his muscles tense as her fingers slid lightly over his skin. The T-shirt was removed, and Dany rested her hand against the dark mat of hair on his powerful chest. There was such a dangerous quality to Gib as he stood before her in his bare feet, the only barriers left between them his slacks and her lingerie. Suddenly shaky, Dany tried to unbuckle his belt, but her fingers had lost their coordination. Gently, Gib captured her hands. "I've got it," he told her, a warm smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm so nervous-and so happy," she confided with a soft laugh. Gib grinned wryly. He wasn't doing much better at unbuckling his belt than she had. "I want to love you so badly I'm shaking, too, honey." Finally, he eased out of his slacks and boxer shorts. Standing naked in front of Dany, Gib had never felt more powerful, more masculine or potent than beneath her awed inspection of him. Under her lustrous gaze he felt a rush of tenderness coupled with a fierce protectiveness toward her, feelings he'd never experienced so intensely before. Reaching out, he removed the last of Dany's lacy lingerie, and she, too, stood naked, her long black hair an ebony drape across her shoulders and small breasts. Dany stood bathed in moonlight, her flesh a radiant, golden sheen, like an exquisitely carved statue from some far-gone era now come to life before him. Lifting Dany in his arms, Gib carried her over to the bed. They were both trembling, both reaching out to touch each other, to explore, to express in that silent language how much they meant to each other. He captured her mouth, exploring the moistness of it with his tongue, sending a long, shuddering ache plunging through him. Dany sighed as Gib's mouth left her well-plundered lips and drifted downward, leaving a path of scorching fire as he sought and found her taut, expectant breasts. She gasped, a bolt of heat arcing through her as his lips closed over her nipple. Dany gripped his shoulders, a small cry of pleasure escaping her

throat. Darkness and moonlight melded together, time no longer seeming to exist as Gib worshipped her, cherished her with his knowing hands. As his strong fingers moved lightly down across her rounded belly, seeking and finding the soft curls that rested at the juncture of her damp thighs, Dany moaned. She felt him tense beside her as she opened her thighs for him, welcoming him, wanting him so badly that the ache within her was nearly unbearable. Dany's head thrashed from side to side as he lightly stroked her, discovering her moistness. Her breathing became ragged as she felt him begin to explore her as a woman, and she pleaded with her eyes for more. "You're so hot, so liquid hot," he rasped, lifting himself up and covering her with his body, feeling her arch to meet him. "Love me, just love me," Dany begged. "I want you...I need you, beloved..." Sweat trickled down Gib's temples as he slid his hand beneath her hips. He didn't want to hurry, didn't want to take without giving back to her. His lips pulled back from his clenched teeth as he met her moistness. His mind barely functioning, Gib remembered how small Dany was against his bulk. Now more than ever he had to control himself for her sake. He didn't want to hurt her, didn't want this night to be anything but a beautiful, shared experience. Sucking in a breath, he moved slowly into her wet, dark confines, then froze as she tensed. Such a hot, gripping sensation surrounded him that he groaned, feeling her tight liquid core. And then, just as suddenly, she relaxed, adjusting to him, her body seeming to flow around him, swallowing him, bringing him fully into her with sweet abandon. Dany cried out in pleasure as Gib thrust into her again. She felt as if she were drowning in an ocean of ripe, shimmering sensations. Gib's distinct male odor, his straining muscles, his raspy breath all melted together to form an orchestra of music to her heart, her body and her singing soul. Each thrust, each groan took her higher and higher on a brilliant white light growing within her until finally she arched her body, threw back her head and cried out as pleasure flowed through her in wave after wave. As she floated in the embrace of Gib's arms and body, Dany felt him tense, heard his growl deepen as his hands gripped the bed sheets on either side of her head. As she felt the intensity of his final release, she smiled softly, her arms holding him tightly against her. The moments spun together, and Dany tasted the salty perspiration on his temple as she reached upward to kiss him. Her mouth found his, and she arched against him, wanting him to know in the silent language they shared just how much she loved him. Dany wasn't disappointed as his strong mouth claimed hers, cherishing her for long minutes, telling her that he, too, loved her. The words had never been spoken, but it didn't matter to Dany. In her heart she knew, and that was all that mattered. Eventually, Gib gently eased away from Dany, then brought her into the haven of his embrace. He drew up the sheet so she wouldn't become chilled, and Dany snuggled against him, her head nestled on his shoulder, her arm across his torso, their legs entangled. With a sigh, he sifted his fingers through her thick, black hair. God, it had taken every ounce of his control not to tell Dany he loved her. Opening his eyes, Gib savored her sleek, damp form against him. Overhead the fan whirled sluggishly, moving the humid air around the room. He felt Dany's

heart still beating wildly, her breath shallow and moist against his chest. Smiling sleepily, he whispered, "You're a woman of the earth, honey. My woman...." Leaning upward, Dany touched his mouth with her lips. "You make me feel so safe," she quavered, and lost herself in the returning heat and plundering power of his mouth as he crushed her against him. Never had she felt so loved, so reverently cherished. Dany wanted the kiss to go on forever.

Dawn painted the eastern horizon a raspberry shade, the color washing over the quiet bedroom as Gib drowsily awoke. Still groggy, he automatically reached for Dany. When his fingers brushed her shoulder, he relaxed. It hadn't all been a wild, torrid dream after all, he thought. This is real, she's here with me. It wasn't a dream... Opening his eyes, Gib stared at the slowly turning ceiling fan. He lay on his back, naked and perspiring, the sheet thrown aside. Dany slept against him, her silky hair a coverlet across his chest, her arm limp over his belly. He stroked the golden arm, feeling the firmness of muscle beneath her smooth, soft skin. There was such inherent strength to Dany, Gib mused, enjoying the discovery of waking up and having her sleeping at his side. Last night she'd been like a child in her spontaneity while they danced. Never had Gib felt stronger and better about himself than now. Dany made him feel powerful, made him feel as if he could do anything in the world and be successful at it no matter what life threw his way. A slight smile curved his mouth as he carefully turned onto his side, propping himself on one elbow to study Dany as she slept. The sheet was gathered in around her hip, revealing the smooth line of her waist and back. Her hair flashed an incredible cobalt blue and ebony in the dawn light as he moved some strands aside to get a better look at her serene, sleeping features. There was such vulnerability in Dany's face, her cheek flushed pink, her lush lips parted in sleep. Her long, slender fingers curved against his shoulder. There was such trust revealed in the way she lay against him, her position unguarded. Shakily, Gib leaned over and pressed a kiss to Dany's smooth cheek. He inhaled her sweet, womanly scent, a fragrance that drove him wild with need of her again. The threat of the war hung over them, over their tenuous time together. If Gib had learned one thing in his two tours of Vietnam, it was that there was no assurance that tomorrow would ever come. He'd learned to live each day as if it were his last, to savor every second and live and breathe every moment without apology. As he gently eased Dany onto her back to awaken her with his kisses, to share his love of her, Gib wanted to absorb her, this moment, into his heart-forever. This was one sunrise they would watch together. Once they got back to Da Nang, who knew what life might hold for them. Drowsily, Dany awoke in the velvet heat of Gib's mouth upon her own. Never had she felt such fierce tenderness as he caressed the long, slender lines of her form with his calloused fingers. With a sigh as his lips drew back from hers, she lifted her lashes. If there was such a thing as dying with joy, she was experiencing it now in the gold, green and brown richness of his eyes. Gib's gaze promised so much as he held her, a gentle captive. "I never knew mornings could be like this," she whispered unsteadily.

"I didn't either," he rasped thickly. Threading strands of her black hair through his fingers, he smiled. "I thought I knew what beauty was, but waking up this morning with you, well-" he sighed as Dany's hand stroked his shoulder and trailed down the length of his arm "-I guess this is as close as I'm ever going to get to heaven." As much as he resisted it, Gib knew time was slipping away from them. He leaned down and softly kissed her parted lips. "Want to take a shower with me? We've got to get moving if we're going to take off for the base in time." Dany's eyes widened. "A shower?" "Sure. With me?" And then he noticed the surprise and shyness in her expression. "Never took a shower with a man before?" he teased her gently. Heat crept into her cheeks and Dany laughed. "No. Never!" "Want to try it?" Why not? Dany had thrown her fate to the winds last night, deciding to trade her future happiness for one night in Gib's arms. To be able to show her love again, to continue this wonderful warmth would be her own version of heaven. "Yes... let's try it." Gib rose from the bed and pulled her into his arms. Her black hair rippled around her like a cape. He didn't want to cease having contact with her-the moments were too precious. Leading her into the spacious, tiled bathroom, he turned on the faucets in the large glass-paneled shower. Within moments, steam began to form, and he drew her into the warm confines, shutting the glass door behind them. Dany watched as Gib took the bar of lilac-scented soap between his large, spare hands. These were hands that flew a combat aircraft, she thought. The same hands that had made such exquisite love to her last night. She looked up into his narrowed gaze, trembling with anticipation as he created a thick lather of bubbles in his hands. Dany's hair turned into a shining ebony sheet that outlined every delicious curve of her small breasts and long torso as the water struck it. Gib put the bar of soap aside and placed his hands on either side of her long, elegant neck, sending a trail of bubbles across her shoulders and prominent collarbones and around the curve of her breasts. He watched her nipples darken and pucker, begging him to taste them. Dany's gasp of pleasure was drowned in the noise of the cascading water, but he saw her eyes grow languid and her lips part. Moving his thumbs in a circular motion, he felt her nipples harden. Dany gasped and swayed unsteadily. "Easy," he rasped, and allowed her to sink fully against him. The sensation was as startling as it was fiery: the instant her belly caressed his hardened body, Gib groaned. His soapy hands slid down her long, beautifully curved spine, sought and found her hips. He pressed her hard against him and felt her arms tighten automatically around his neck in reaction. Time melted in the heat of the shower, the stream of water curling and flowing like lovers' hands between and around them. Gib leaned down to capture her ripe, parted lips. Like a thief knowing he would too soon be caught, he plundered her, sending his tongue deep into the confines of her sweet, liquid depths. Her moan met and vibrated against his, her fingers digging frantically

into his shoulders, telling him what she wanted. Without disengaging from her hot, hungry mouth, Gib slowly lifted her up against him, memorizing each curve, valley and sensation as her slick skin slid against his. Gently, he drew her legs around his hips, supporting her weight entirely, then allowed her to slowly descend upon his hard, heated flesh. A softened cry of pleasure echoed from her as he lowered her farther. His groan mingled with her sigh as he sheathed deeply into her welcoming heat, wrapping around him like a tight glove. With each slow thrust of his hips, he felt Dany tremble. She was boneless against him, her breathing as ragged as his. A thousand sensations raced through him, the water flowing over them like molten silver. A river of heat swallowed Gib, the steam an embracing, caressing blanket, and Dany's inner heat burned him with such fierce need that he couldn't control himself as he wanted to for her sake. It didn't matter. Gib felt Dany tense, her ragged cry matched and absorbed by his growl of satiation. Sunlight, darkness, steam, heat and water merged as he stood there with her in his arms. In that moment, Gib understood what oneness was really all about. It was more than physical union, more than emotions tangling in the golden beauty of love, it was a spiritual sensation, almost tangible in its strength and beauty. Gently Gib eased Dany upward, then allowed her feet to touch the wet tile floor. She clung to him, weak and as satiated as he was. Hell, he wasn't too steady on his feet, either. Gib leaned against the tile wall and Dany rested against him as the water continued to flow across them, prolonging the intense sensations, the joy and euphoria. Gradually, Dany began to move. Wordlessly, she reached up and caressed Gib's shadowed jaw. He needed to shave, but the delightful prickle of beard against her fingers and palm sent a wave of pleasure through her. "I never knew..." she began, and saw a smile crease his mouth. "I didn't either. Not like this," Gib agreed, his voice still filled with ebbing passion. Dany felt the warmth of his very male smile fill her like a rainbow of shimmering colors. Never had she felt more alive, more a woman, nor had she loved a man as she did him. She didn't try to deny her heart any longer. No matter what happened, Dany knew she would always have these beautiful memories. "Come on," Gib urged lazily, finding and picking up the bar of soap. "I think we need to hurry this shower along before we're late for our flight." Reality intruded. Dany swallowed her disappointment. Afterward, she left the shower to dress in the bedroom while Gib lathered his face and began the process of shaving in the bathroom. "I wish this didn't have to end," Dany said softly as she buttoned her blouse. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched Gib shave. Sunlight lanced into the room, the radiance almost blinding. Gib washed the last of the shaving cream off his face, then blotted his skin dry with a cotton towel. He heard the pain in Dany's voice and felt the same in his heart. Dressed in boxer shorts and white T-shirt, he walked over to where she sat. Sliding his hand beneath her chin, he smiled down into her

drowsy eyes. This time they'd made love had been even more beautiful, more breathtaking than before. "Honey, all we can do is go forward. Yesterday's lost to us. It's in the memory vault of our hearts. Today, this hour, is all that counts." The warm strength of Gib's hand cupping her cheek sent a spasm of anguish through Dany. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his hand. "You're right," she quavered, "but I wish-" And then she lifted her chin and shook her head. "There I go again, making silly wishes. Maman was right about me." Sliding down beside her, Gib framed her face and placed a long, slow kiss on her pouty lips. Each time he touched Dany, each time he tasted her, was like the first time, each of his senses enriched with her in every way. Gently ending the kiss, he whispered against her lips, "None of your wishes are silly. Not with me. I want to hear all your wishes, Dany. I want to know your dreams." With a sigh, she smiled and kissed him tenderly, wanting the moment to never end. "How you can be so gentle with me, and yet a man of war, I'll never understand." Holding his gaze, Dany touched his craggy features. "There's so much about men I don't understand." With a chuckle, Gib accepted her feather-light exploration of his face. "Let's not leave women out of that statement, shall we?" Laughing softly, Dany eased her arms around his broad, capable shoulders. "Women are not as complex as men make us out to be. We're actually quite simple." It was his turn to laugh. "There's nothing simple about a woman, honey. Never will be. But what I like is exploring you and finding out something new each and every time we're together." And Gib gently drew Dany down on the bed, bringing her on top of him. The silk of her blouse felt cool and sensuous against him. Drowning in his gaze, Dany whispered, "Yes, I like that, too." With a sigh, he folded her against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "Our time is going to be limited once we get back to Da Nang," he warned her. "And you can't come to the plantation." "No. But maybe you can meet me in Da Nang and have dinner at one of those expensive French restaurants." She smiled, closing her eyes. "Yes, I'd like that." "What? The expensive part of the French food?" Giggling, Dany lifted her head. "I like the idea of having dinner with you, Major. All right?" His voice came out rough with passion. "I like the way you answer the questions, lady." Dany wanted to ask, "Where are we going together, Gib? Or are we?" as she languished under the power of his wide, disarming smile and his reverent gaze. There were no easy answers for them. Not today, nor any future day. She

frowned in thought. "I'm not sure about much anymore, Gib." He saw the banked fear in her eyes. "About us?" "Yes." Rising into a sitting position, he placed Dany beside him. The serene beauty of the room, the absence of war sounds outside, made Gib want to believe they were stateside. "No promises, Dany. Neither of us can afford to give them to each other, as much as we might like to. The war's too fluid right now." God, how he wanted to give her that promise. "I know," she whispered, sadness in her voice. Gib caressed her cheek and slowly got to his feet. He walked over to his satchel and pulled out a clean flight uniform. They'd be going directly to Tan Son Nhut, so he didn't have to get into his official military gear. As he pulled on the one-piece suit and zipped the crotch-to-throat closing, Gib watched Dany's face, feeling guilty at the disconsolate look in her eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have talked her into going to bed with him. Maybe he should have had more sense and been the coherent one in this situation. One look at her lovely mouth, and Gib knew both arguments were moot. Picking up his black leather flight boots, he walked over to where she sat on the bed. "We're going to see each other as often as possible," he promised her. Dany nodded and compressed her lips. "You don't look like you believe me, Dany." "I-well, I've seen GI and Vietnamese girl affairs for the last several years. They all end up the same, Gib." "What we have, what we share, is more than that," he vowed, touching her hair. She had to believe him. "I'm not walking out of your life." "I want to trust you on that, Gib." He stood there, understanding far too well her reasons. Grimly, he rasped, "I guess I'll have to prove it to you, Dany." She bowed her head and clasped her hands tightly together. "I'm afraid, Gib. Afraid for you, the dangers of the war. I'm afraid for myself, because I don't want to lose you, and I know I will-" "Silly woman," he chided as he cupped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "Dany, sometime you're going to have to reach out and trust something-someone-other than yourself. I know that all your life you've had no one to depend on but yourself. In a relationship, that focus has to change. If it doesn't..." He scowled. "Nothing's for sure, and no one knows that better than me, honey. But please, give us a chance. Don't doom what we've had the courage to start before-" "Before you leave?" Her mouth was dry, and her heart ached. Dany winced inwardly as she saw the cruel reality of her words strike Gib. He tenderly touched her lips, noting that her lower lip trembled as she tried to hold back tears. "Honey, it's dangerous to look into the future. We're sitting on a powder keg called Vietnam. Let's live each day as it comes."

"With no plans for the future? No plans at all?" Frustrated, Gib allowed his hand to drop from her pale cheek. Right now, he hated the war. He hated the volatile circumstances in their lives. "We've got to trust each other, one day at a time," he said slowly. She stared up at him, wanting to sob, but fighting the reaction. She loved Gib. Did he love her as much? The question begged to be asked, but she was still too untrusting of their newfound intimacy. Instead she nodded silently. Gib sat down, his hands dangling between his thighs as Dany put on her skirt. A fear snagged through him. How much could he push their relationship? It was far too fragile yet, and Dany was going to have to learn to trust him all over again on a new level. Time, Gib cautioned himself. Give Dany time. But did they have it?

Chapter Ten "Gib," Colonel Parsons said, "I'm ordering you and your squadron to Hue a week from now." "Sir?" Gib's stomach knotted. He'd been back from Saigon six days. Now this. Parsons nodded. "Yes. We're starting a build-up north of Hue. The corps is putting in new firebases up in the DMZ," he said, using the abbreviated term for the demilitarized zone. "I need your squadron not only to fly for defense purposes, but to be a supply line to those bases while they're under construction." Frantically, Gib cast around for someone other than himself to go. He'd just won the tiniest slice of Dany's trust. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Marble Mountain for two months. "Sir, I've got an awful lot of irons in the fire here. Can't you send one of the newer units?" he asked, thinking of the three squadrons that had recently shipped over. With a grunt, Parsons leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Gib, that's why you're going-you've got the time in grade, the experience. Understand?" Swallowing his bitterness, Gib nodded. "Yes, sir." "Be ready to move to Hue in five days, lock, stock and barrel." Gib left headquarters in shock. What would Dany do when she found out he was leaving? It would play into her belief that every GI left the woman he'd bedded down- every last damn one of them. Ordinarily, Gib never cursed, but this time he cursed richly and out loud. When he got back to his tent, Gib tried to reach his sister Tess at Da Nang. To his relief, she answered her phone. "Tess?" "Gib! Where have you been? I've been a good girl the entire last week and have stayed in my tent in Da Nang, and you're nowhere around!"

He grimaced, his hand clenching the phone tightly. "Well, I was in Saigon for a couple a days-" "Saigon?" Tess laughed. "Does this have anything to do with the Dany Villard you told me about?" Gib was grateful Tess couldn't see him blush. "Yeah, that was part of it. Listen, I need your help." Becoming more serious, Tess said, "Sure. What's wrong?" "Well, it's what could go wrong. I'm just beginning to get Dany to really trust me, Tess. And damn it, my colonel is sending my squadron north to Hue for two rotten months. I know what Dany's going to think-she's going to think I'm like every other GI who's ever had a woman in Vietnam." "Oh," Tess murmured. "Love 'em and leave 'em, right?" "Yes." "What do you want me to do in your absence?" Gib loved Tess fiercely for her loyalty and perception. His baby sister was a rare human being. "I don't know if this will work, but I want you to meet Dany. She needs a friend anyway the way things are going for her. The U.S. government wants her property for a heliport, and she's refusing to sell. I took her down to Saigon to talk with the French embassy. They're going to intervene on her behalf to try and save her land." Rubbing his face, Gib rasped, "And on top of all of that, we made something of a commitment to each other. Damn, I don't know if Dany's going to keep her home or keep me." "You're really serious about her, aren't you?" "Very," Gib said. "How serious? Love?" Hesitating, Gib said huskily, "Yes, love." "Does Dany know this?" "Hell, no!" "Calm down, Gib. Just take it easy. So you want me to kind of baby-sit her? Convince her you're not like 99.9 percent of these GIs?" "Yes, that's part of it. Also, I'll be gone two months, and who knows when the decision on her plantation will be made? I won't be here to support her the way I want to." "What rotten luck," Tess agreed somberly. "Sure, I'll help both of you as much as I can. What do you want me to do?" "We set up a dinner date in Da Nang at La Nouvelle France for tomorrow night at 1700. If you could swing by around 1800 after I've broken the news to Dany, that would help. I want Dany to know I care, that we can get through this damned military glitch-together. You can be here for her in case she needs help of any kind."

"I've always wanted to meet Dany anyway," Tess said. "It's a date. I'll be there at 1800, Gib." "Thank you," he murmured, meaning it. "I owe you for this one." Laughing, Tess said, "Don't worry about it. I'm thrilled to death you've finally fallen in love! I was beginning to worry about you, big brother." A little of the tension Gib carried bled away beneath Tess's teasing. "I guess I had that coming. Dany's worth all this trouble, believe me.'' "Well, if it goes the way I hope it does for the two of you, I'm going to look at this meeting as getting to see my future sister-in-law for the first time!" Groaning, Gib warned, "Don't mention anything about love to her, Tess. I'm afraid to tell her." "Why?" "Because she'll think it's a line. All the GIs tell these Viet girls they love them. You know that. Hell, I'm caught in a crossfire. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't." Doubt plagued Tess's voice. "I think you should tell her, Gib." He shook his head. "Listen, I'm walking enough tightropes right now. I don't need Dany misconstruing my admittance, okay?" "Okay. I love you and I'll see you tomorrow evening." "Thanks," he whispered, and hung up the phone. More than anything, Gib hoped that Dany would like Tess and vice versa. The two women had a great deal in common. Rubbing his face tiredly, Gib dreaded the meeting tomorrow evening with Dany. And then he laughed harshly. Who was to say she would even show up at all? Had the two phone calls they'd shared over this past week been enough to keep their fragile relationship alive? *

*

*

Dany quickly emerged from her white Citroen, picked up her straw purse and shut the door. She was late! Her heart pounding with anticipation at the thought of seeing Gib for the first time in a week-and with dread that he might think she wasn't coming-she hurried along the cracked concrete sidewalk lined with silk trees that made up the broad central avenue of Da Nang. She had been supposed to meet Gib at La Nouvelle France Restaurant at five, and she was half an hour late! Gib had been watching the windows for some time. His hands were sweaty as he nursed the cold beer in front of him, wondering if Dany really might not be coming. As Dany rushed through the door, her black hair swirling like an ebony cloud around her shoulders, Gib saw that she wore a lovely pale pink ao dai patterned with white flowers, the silken pants the same white as the flowers. His heart took one bound as she stopped like a startled deer, looking around-then met his gaze. Her eyes widened beautifully, and he saw a blush sweep across her cheeks. He automatically got to his feet as she neared. Without thinking, he reached out, cupped her shoulder and leaned down to kiss

her. It wasn't the long kiss he would have liked, but it would have to do under the circumstances. He was very aware that there could be VC spies anywhere, and he didn't want to give the VCs any more reasons for bombing her plantation. "I'm sorry I'm so late," Dany said breathlessly, sliding down in the dark blue leather booth. "Vinh had a last-minute shopping list of art supplies he wanted me to get for him. The store was crowded, and I had to wait too long at the checkout line." Gib smiled. "Don't worry about it." He captured her hand and squeezed it gently. "How are you?" Just the touch of his hand steadied her out-of-kilter world. Dany rolled her eyes and sat back with a sigh. "Better now that I'm with you." "Music to my ears," Gib said. The waiter came over. "All I want is ice water with a twist of lime," Dany said. "You aren't hungry?" How could she be? The ocean of feelings churning within her left her giddy one moment and fearful the next. She hadn't eaten well since her return from Saigon, afraid to trust what she had with Gib. All week Dany had wondered when her beautiful dream would come to a shattered end. She rallied and smiled. "No. But you go ahead and eat if you're hungry." "I am," Gib lied, and ordered a full-course Vietnamese meal, figuring that despite Dany's refusal to order, she would share it with him. How was she going to take the news of him going away? He'd never felt such fear as he did now. After the waiter had delivered Dany's drink, Gib devoted his full attention to her once again. "How are things at the plantation?" "Quiet, so far." She frowned. "I'm so jumpy, Gib. I don't know which is bothering me worse-waiting for word from the French embassy about my house or fear that Binh Duc will find out I'm seeing an American Marine. Or," she added more softly, "worry about you getting shot at or injured." "I'm the last person you ought to worry about," Gib soothed. He stroked her hand and noticed several small cuts on her fingers. "What have you been doing lately? Your hands look like they've taken a beating." With a laugh, Dany said, "We're clearing a ten-acre parcel in order to plant a new generation of rubber trees. I should wear my gloves all the time, but I don't." His admiration for her never ceased. Dany was one of the hardest-working people he'd ever encountered. "You getting enough sleep?" Touched by his concern, Dany nodded. "I wake up a lot, but it's not due to nightmares." He grinned. "By any chance are you sharing the same torrid dreams I'm having?" She flushed and refused to meet his dancing eyes. "Gib Ramsey, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

With a hearty laugh, he eyed Dany's disgruntled expression. "Honey, no man in his right mind could stop dreaming about you after what we shared in Saigon. It was intense." His words vibrated through her, made her yearn to be in his arms with no restaurant table between them. Always afraid that someone would overhear, Dany kept her voice down. "It was wonderful." Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, Gib changed topics. "So you went shopping for Vinh? How's his drawing coming along?" Dany brightened. She pulled her hand from Gib's and searched in her purse. "Our homeopathic doctor has been giving him several remedies that have eased his pain, to the point where he's no longer on pain-killing medication." Dany wrinkled her nose. "I hate drugs! These are all natural remedies, in very small doses. It's very safe and effective. Vinh is coming along wonderfully as a result." She smiled. "You must see these, Gib. Vinh didn't know I was coming to see you. In fact, no one knows where I am except for Ma Ling." Dany took out a thick roll captured with several rubber bands and handed it to Gib. "Great," he murmured, taking the roll. Unwrapping the drawings, Gib looked at each one carefully. Dany sat back sipping her ice water and watching the expression change on Gib's hard features. Today he was dressed in civilian clothes, a short-sleeved green shirt and jeans, with a pair of sneakers. She couldn't get enough of him, of absorbing his features, the nuances of his delight, into her heart and mind. "Well? What do you think?" Gib whistled softly as he rolled the drawings back up. "The boy is really something, isn't he?" "I think so. Ma Ling's so surprised at his progress, Gib. She was afraid Vinh would become depressed and never want to draw again, but I think that day you came to the hospital and helped him made all the difference in the world." Gib wished he had magical abilities to successfully change Dany's distrust of their future. "I'm just glad I could be there for him. He's a bright kid and deserves a crack at the world." Taking the roll from Gib, Dany placed it back in her purse. "Vinh asks about you all the time. He wants to know when he can get another helicopter ride-one that he remembers." Gib sipped his beer and tried to steady his pounding heart. It was pounding because of fear-fear of losing Dany when he revealed his news. "I'm afraid I won't be able to give him that promised ride for a while." Dany's heart plunged. She saw darkness in Gib's hazel eyes. "Oh?" Fear shattered through her, and she realized she didn't even know when Gib's tour was up. Playing absently with the beaded glass of beer, Gib shrugged. "Yesterday Colonel Parsons called me into the office. I've got to take a section of my squadron and go up to Hue for a while." He saw her face go pale. "It's only for two months, Dany." Two damn, long, lousy months without her. Sometimes Gib hated the fickle and insensitive military machine.

"Two months?" she whispered. "Yeah. I'm sorry, honey. I tried to argue my way out of it, but it was no go. We're starting to get more Marines in the Hue area, and there's more VC activity as a result. They need a helicopter squadron up there to defend them sometimes." Icy silence fell between them. Nervously, Dany touched her cheek. "I never asked you when your tour is up, Gib." Fear jabbed at him. He saw Dany's reason for asking and knew immediately that she was counting the days she had with him before he left for home-without her. Frustration ate at him, leaving a raw feeling in his chest where his heart lay. "I've got five months," he rasped. That left three months. Dany had three months with Gib. It felt as if someone had stabbed her in the heart with a knife. "I see." He reached out and captured her hand. "Dany, I-" "How dangerous will it be for you up there?" she interrupted. Dany didn't want another discussion like the one they'd had in Saigon the morning they'd left. Right now every minute was precious. She didn't want to waste time on idle philosophical arguments about the present, past and future. She knew exactly what her future was going to be, and she didn't even want to broach the topic with Gib. Disgruntled, Gib murmured, "Not very dangerous at all. Mostly, we'll be a shuttle service, taking supplies to the forward firebases planned around Hue and up at the demilitarized zone north of them. It's plain dull, if you want the truth." "But safe?" "Yeah, a lot safer than flying missions around here," he said unhappily. He tried to smile to ease the pain he saw in her eyes. "Cheer up, honey, I'll be safe and bored to death." A sliver of relief took away some of her initial fear. Dany gripped his hand, remembering heatedly how his fingers had caressed her, made her come to life and understand what living, loving, was all about. "I'm glad." "I'll try and call you from time to time. Is that okay?" "Sure." She shrugged. "I don't think Binh Duc can listen to our phone calls, so I feel relatively safe about that." "Good." He gently turned her hand over in his, studying the slender length of her fingers. "I'm a lousy letter writer," he warned, "so I came up with what I think is a good idea." Feeling abandoned once more, Dany couldn't hide her disappointment. She tried to pretend that Gib's leaving for two months didn't matter that much. But it did. "What idea is that?" Gib glanced at his watch. "My sister, Tess, the one I told you is a U.S. AID advisor, is going to join us for dinner." Desperation leaked into his voice. "I want you two to meet each other. I feel that right now you can use a woman friend. Tess has been in country for nearly two years, and she shares the same love of Vietnam as you do." He saw a glimmer of hope burning in Dany's eyes.

Maybe she didn't think he was forsaking her after all. He prayed not. "I think it would be good for you to meet another member of my family," he went on. And then he smiled sourly. "I'm sure Tess will fill your ear with stories about us growing up together." Dany smiled a little. convinced her that he else would he ask his begun to inhabit her.

More of her fear abated. The anxiety in Gib's eyes genuinely wanted to keep their relationship alive. Why sister here? Warmth flowed through the coldness that had "I'd love to meet her, Gib."

Looking up, Gib saw Tess coming through the door of the restaurant. "Great," he whispered, and got up to greet her. Dany sat nervously waiting until both Ramseys sat down across from her. "Hi," the redheaded Tess said, extending her hand across the table. Dany smiled tentatively and shook her long, thin hand. She noticed that Tess's nails were blunt cut just like hers, and that her hand felt rough and chapped-just like hers. More than anything, Dany liked the warmth in Tess's gray eyes. "I'm glad to meet you," Dany admitted. Tess grinned and glanced over at her brother. "Well, I've got to tell you, Dany, I've heard so many good things about you that I leaped at the chance to get to meet you." Gib began to relax as Tess set the tenor for them. She was dressed in a short-sleeved white blouse, jeans and sneakers, and her easy smile and demeanor worked wonders on Dany before his eyes. Within five minutes, Gib felt a wonderful kind of bonding going on between Dany and his sister. Whatever it was, he was grateful. An hour later, Tess excused herself. As she rose from the table, she grinned. "Hey, you two deserve some time alone together. Gib's going to be leaving soon. Dany, maybe you can drop by Cam Na during the day and see me? I can offer you a mean cup of tea." With a laugh, Dany nodded. "I'd love to. As a matter of fact, I was going to run some clothing over to the Catholic Orphanage not far from there next week." "Make it Wednesday and I'll have you over for tea. That's the day I'm generally at Cam Na." "Deal," Dany agreed warmly. Tess leaned down and gave her brother a peck on the cheek. "And you," she warned sternly, "be careful up there in Hue. It's new territory, and you don't know the lay of the land." With a grimace, Gib nodded. "I've got two whole lousy months to find out about the lay of the land, baby sis. And," he added, "I'll be careful." "You'd better be." Tess raised her hand. "See you two later!" Gib returned his attention to Dany after Tess had left. If he read her

expression accurately, she appeared relieved. He captured her hands. "Well? Does having Tess around make you feel a little better about me leaving?" She nodded. "She can't replace me," Gib teased. "No," Dany laughed, "she can't. But I like her, Gib. You're amazingly alike in many ways." "Yeah," he murmured, stroking her hand gently. "There's an old saying: 'You can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy.'" "The land runs strong and true in both of you," Dany agreed softly, her flesh tingling wildly where he lightly stroked her wrist. "Our loyalty to those people that are a part of us does, too," he warned her gravely. Dany dropped her gaze. "I-I'm sorry, Gib. It's just that when you said you were leaving, it started this whole process inside me.'' Softly he answered, "I know, honey." He ached to make slow, delicious love to her. He ached to take away her fear of abandonment, which was a platform and reason for all her negative reactions to him. "It's tough to trust when you've never had anyone but yourself to rely on. I understand that." Dany lifted her head and melted beneath his hazel gaze. "I feel rotten for even thinking it of you." "I expect it, Dany." He raised her hand and kissed it, and her eyes took on a look of languor. "No one said that once you're committed to a serious relationship with another person, it's easy street after that." She sighed. "Especially in wartime." How badly she wanted to believe that Gib meant forever and not just the next five months. Dany strived to set aside the pain she knew would destroy her when Gib left. She loved him too fiercely, too much for her own good, but she was helpless to fight it. She didn't want it any longer. Gib looked into her sad green eyes. "Listen," he began in a low, thick tone, "I want to say goodbye to you before I leave for Hue, Dany." His hands tightened around hers. "I want to love you, to hold you. I want a few minutes of sanity in your arms. I need you." Gib had no idea how Dany would react to his invitation. They couldn't go to her place, to her bedroom. And there was certainly no place at his base. He saw her flush scarlet and realized that what he was suggesting embarrassed her. She had been raised with very high moral standards, and he knew he was asking her to throw them away to spend an hour or two with him in some hotel in Da Nang. It was beneath Dany. She deserved better. They both did. But war had a way of skewing everyone's values. He saw the hesitancy mixed with longing in her eyes. Gib plunged on, his tone a barely audible rasp. "There's a nice hotel not far from here. Good, clean rooms, and it's quiet. There won't be any military police raids or anything." He looked away for a moment. "Damn it, Dany, I don't like it this way. I wish we were home, back in the States. I could take you to dinner, to a movie. We could go for a walk and hold hands, do the more

natural things at a slower pace." Achingly, she whispered, "It doesn't matter, Gib. None of it." He stared at her a long moment. "Sure it does." Dany shook her head. "Remember? We have only the present. No past. No future." The bleakness in her eyes scored his heart. She had given his own words back to him, and how terrible they sounded to him now-now that he'd admitted to himself-and to Tess-he loved Dany. The bitter taste in his mouth remained. "I don't have much time. I've got to be back at the base by 2200, an hour from now." "Then let's share that hour together...." The room at Hotel La Fleur was clean, but it wasn't quiet, Gib quickly discovered. The walls were paper thin, and Gib and Dany stood in the center of the room hearing echoes of laughter and talk on either side of them. Gib had his arm around Dany, but he felt the room, the sounds, cheapened what he felt for her. Turning to her, resting his hands on her small shoulders, he met and held her upturned gaze. "This stinks," he rasped, "let's get out of here." "No." Dany placed her purse on the chair next to the double bed covered with a white cotton bedspread. She moved into Gib's arms and slid her hands up across his chest. "When I'm with you," she quavered, "nothing else exists. The last time you made love with me, I heard nothing but your breathing, the beat of your heart-and I lost myself in you. It won't be any different this time, Gib." With a groan, Gib swept her hard against him. God, I love you. The words were nearly ripped from him. Gib compressed his lips and held Dany, feeling her warmth, feeling the beat of her magnificent, giving heart against him. "I'm sorry, Dany," he said thickly, threading his fingers through her thick, heavy hair. "You deserve a hell of a lot better than this. You deserve the world as far as I'm concerned." She murmured his name reverently and closed her eyes as his fingers gently kneaded her temples. "You are my world..." If only for one hour. Dany no longer had pride where Gib was concerned. She loved him too much, and like a greedy thief, would steal every second that he gave her, because there could never be a future for them.

Chapter Eleven "Gib, just what the hell were you trying to pull, taking Miss Villard over to the French embassy two months ago?" Colonel Parsons demanded testily. Gib had just returned from Hue with his squadron. The two-month assignment was finally over, and no sooner had Gib arrived on base than Parsons sent a runner over to tell him to get to HQ pronto. He'd known something was up, and that it probably didn't bode well for him. He'd been right. Gib stood at ease in front of his superior's desk. "Sir, she's trying to save her plantation." "With your help," Parsons ground out. "Well, it won't work!" He threw a set of orders across the desk and they tottered dangerously on the edge. "The French

are out of the picture-finally! They threw up all kinds of delays and objections, and it's done nothing but put us behind on our construction schedule, damn it. Miss Villard has to move in two weeks. The Seabee bulldozers need to start leveling trees. Now, you convince her to move, Gib. Do I make myself clear?" Anguish seared Gib as he took the file folder and looked at the orders. All the proper authorizations were there and signed. Just as Dany had suspected, the deed to her land had been seized by the local ARVN authorities under the pretense of the escalating war. "Everything's in order." Parsons jabbed at the folder. "There's even a U.S. government bank voucher for eight hundred thousand dollars that Miss Villard can deposit at any bank in the world." He glared at Gib. "She's damned lucky the U.S. government is willing to pay her anything, after what you tried to pull." Anger moved through Gib. "Sir, with all due respect, Miss Villard will not move off her land." "She will or else. The bulldozers will not be delayed, Major. Now you'd best convince her and fast!" Parsons pressed his lips into a tight line. "You've caused me a lot of trouble, and if I were you, Major, I wouldn't be pushing my luck right now. Fitness reports are due out in another month, and frankly, it won't go well for you if you continue to protect and defend the Villard transaction. Get your personal feelings out of it and do as you're ordered!" Gib didn't give a damn about his career or the fitness report. Gripping the file, he said, "She won't move." With a hiss, Parsons rasped, "Major, do you want to be removed from this project?" "Yes, I do, sir," Gib shot back. "Well, you're not going to be. I've had enough delay without having to explain to headquarters why I've had to assign a new liaison officer." Parsons stood to signal the end of the discussion. "Now, get it done. You're off duty for the rest of the day. I'll schedule you for missions beginning tomorrow morning." "Yes, sir." Gib came to attention and did an about-face. Anger warred with pain in him as he made his way back over to Operations. The morning sun was bright and hot, the humidity high, as always. Gib ignored the base activity, blotting out all sounds as he hurried to the squadron tent. Once inside, he went to his desk. "Sergeant Masters, make a call over to Da Nang and see if you can track down my sister, Tess, will you?" Masters looked up from the paperwork piled around him. "Major, she was just in here lookin' for you. She was expecting you to arrive from Hue and wanted to welcome you home. She was heading over to the O club to get some iced tea while she waited." Gib nodded. "Great...thanks." He grabbed his dark green utility cap and threw it on his head. Maybe, with Tess's help, Dany might be persuaded to move. Maybe... Gib found his sister sitting in the air-conditioned comfort of the Officers'

club dining room drinking a glass of iced tea. When Tess looked up and saw him, she broke into a welcoming smile and stood up. "There you are! Brother, are you hard to track down when you don't want to be found!" She threw her arms around Gib. "Welcome back!" He gave her a bear hug and released her. "Thanks." Tess ran her fingers through her short red hair and sat back down. "You look upset, Gib. What's wrong?" Gib sat opposite her. "I've got a real problem." He folded his hands. "And I'm going to need your input, Tess." "Don't tell me," Tess began, motioning to the file. "Dany's plantation?" she guessed. It hurt to say it. "Yes. She has to move within two weeks. The military is going in with Seabee bulldozers to level the place, regardless." "Damn," Tess murmured. "Both Dany and I felt that the French embassy had effectively intervened, and that was why we hadn't heard anything more on the plan." She reached over and gripped Gib's hand. "What can I do to help?" How like his sister to volunteer. Her gray eyes were fraught with concern, mirroring the pain he felt for Dany. He patted her hand. "I can use your help in finding a resettlement place for all of Dany's peasants. Now that you know her, you realize they're like family to her, Tess. The Marines have just started up a pacification program and have certain hamlets earmarked for security against VC. The villages you work with are in that program. Do you think there's room in them to absorb, say, two hundred men, women and children from Dany's plantation? The regular resettlement camps are too much like prison camps. Dany would never go for that." Tess shrugged. "I wouldn't send my best enemy to one of those resettlement camps, Gib, so I don't blame Dany. Let me get on this right away. I'll talk to the village chieftains and see what I can finagle." "If you can swing this," Gib told her grimly, "I think it might ease a lot of Dany's reasons for holding onto the plantation, before they have to literally drag her off the property." "It's a crying shame," Tess protested. "They've got land all around her!" "Money talks, and so does power. That's how this country operates," Gib muttered unhappily. "When you know for sure about her people being transferred, would you drop by and see Dany?" Gib asked. "You bet, big brother. Are you going over to tell her about this?" He nodded call her, flowers I added, "I

glumly. "Yeah. Hell of a welcome home, isn't it? I had planned to set up a dinner date tonight, give her the biggest bouquet of could find in Da Nang. Now it's all down the drain." Frustrated, Gib don't know how she'll react to this."

"She's caught between a rock and a hard place," Tess agreed. She rose. "Look, I'm going to get going. I'll drive back to Da Nang and get the paperwork started on helping Dany's people relocate."

Gib stood and walked out with his sister. "Thanks, Tess." Outside, she waved goodbye to him. Depressed as never before, Gib moved back toward his squadron area. The heat was stifling, and so was the humidity. Gib's mind and heart swung forward to the meeting with Dany. How was she going to take this? Would she go to France? Stay here? And what would happen to their fragile, budding relationship? Suddenly, the world was crashing around Gib as never before. But for Dany, he knew, it was literally the end of her life here in Vietnam.

Gib met Ma Ling at the door to the plantation. The old woman didn't glare at him in spite of his uniform-a vast improvement. As he stepped in, he took off his utility cap. "I need to see Dany right away," he told her. "She is out back. I will get her." Gib waited impatiently in the drawing room, surrounded by the hundreds of pictures of Dany' s parents. He turned when he heard her bare feet brushing against the wooden floor. "Gib!" Dany cried, and she raced forward, her arms opened to him. He tried to smile, but failed. Dany was in her normal work attire, black cotton pajamas and a tan overblouse. Her bare feet were stained with dried red mud. Whispering her name, he took her full weight as she entered the circle of his arms. He crushed her hard against him. Just the warm feeling of Dany pressed to his body eased his anguish, the loneliness of the last two months. He felt her lift her head, and blindly sought and found her ripe, warm mouth. With a groan, he captured it, tasted her. The fragrance of the sun, the jungle, her own feminine scent entered his flared nostrils as he hungrily possessed her mouth. Finally, both of them breaking unsteadily, Dany pulled back slightly from Gib, remaining within his embrace. Dazed by the power of his kiss-and her overwhelming need of him-she moved her hands up his bare arms. "Why are you here in uniform?" she asked unsteadily. "I thought we agreed to meet in Da Nang?" How badly she wanted to tell him of her love. The last two months had been pure hell-and adding to her loneliness, she'd had the flu for a week, throwing up every day. Grimly, Gib led Dany over to the sofa and sat down with her. "I'm sorry, honey." He gripped her hands, absorbing her beauty. He looked at her with concern. Dany had obviously lost some weight. It showed in the stretch of skin across her high cheekbones. "I'm here on official business, Dany." He took a deep breath and told her, "Colonel Parsons ordered me to tell you that you've got two weeks to move out before they claim your property. I'm sorry." "No! They can't do this to me!" Dany cried hoarsely. She leaped to her feet and went to the center of the drawing room, tense and trembling. Gib stood helplessly. "Honey, we've lost the fight on this. The French embassy tried their best, but failed. It's all over, Dany." Clenching her fists, she stood rigid, staring at Gib. He was suffering no less

than she. "I won't move." "They'll come in here and raze your home, Dany," he pleaded. "Don't let them destroy the things you want saved. Take this two weeks and pack. I'll help you. I'll do anything I can to make it easier for you. Tess is checking on ways to get your families new and secure homes in one of the hamlets she works with." Tears stung Dany's eyes. She didn't know whether to scream, cry or pound her fists against the walls. Gib's return was truly bittersweet. How badly she'd wanted to see him, love him, be in his arms and know the beauty of his feelings for her. "I won't leave, Gib. I have rifles. I'll shoot the first Marine that thinks he can take my land, my home, from me!" "Listen to me," Gib whispered tautly, moving over to her and gripping her gently by the shoulders. "The least you can do is get your people out of here then. If you want to make a stand, I can't stop you, Dany. But for God's sakes, don't put those families at risk when you do it. Let Tess help you get them moved." He was right, Dany realized with a terrible, sinking feeling. Turning away from him, she gripped the back of the chair, her fingers digging into the silk fabric. "I won't endanger them," she rattled. "Send Tess over, then." A lump wedged in her throat, her voice turning hoarse. "I swear, Gib, I'll make a stand. No one is going to drive me off this land. My blood is in the soil. My whole life is here." Gib started across the room and halted when he saw a middle-aged Vietnamese man slip away from the doorway. Torn between going after him to find out why he was eavesdropping, and taking care of Dany, Gib remained where he was. Perhaps it was Dany's foreman. Or was it a VC spy disguised as one of her laborers? Dany swore that her people were loyal to her, but too often Gib had found traitors in the closest of families. People would sell information either for money or for political beliefs. Or worse, because the VC held members of their family as hostages and threatened to kill them if information wasn't delivered. He dropped his hands gently onto Dany's slumped shoulders. Taking her full weight against him, Gib pressed a kiss to her hair. "God, I'm sorry this is happening, Dany. You don't deserve this, none of it." She turned slowly around in his arms and looked up into his pained features. "My father remained neutral with the French and the Vietminh when they were at war. We, of all the plantations, did not treat our people as the other colonists did." She threaded her fingers through his hair. "The bond we have with the Vietnamese is unique, Gib. We respect their ways. We've never tried to change them. That's why we've been able to keep our neutrality." "But that doesn't matter to the politicians in Saigon," he reminded her. The urge to kiss her again, to drown in the sweet delicacy of her mouth, nearly unstrung him. But it wasn't the right time or place to pursue his selfish needs with Dany, no matter how much he'd missed her. Now she needed his support, his ideas and any help he could give her. "I know," she whispered. "If I make a stand, perhaps that will help change your government's decision." Gib knew in his gut that it wouldn't. "Listen, I'll send Tess over here just as soon as she's got a plan worked out for the families."

With a nod, Dany leaned upward and pressed a warm kiss to the tight line of Gib's mouth. The words I love you nearly escaped her. Despite their closeness, Gib had never said he loved her, and it hurt not to be able to share how she really felt. But she'd been kicked around enough by life already to know that it doled out only partial gifts to a person, never a whole gift. All she could do was savor what she shared with Gib right now. "I've got to get going," Gib rasped. Dany eased out of his arms. "I understand." Helplessly, he looked down at her, taking in the stubborn set of her chin and mouth. Her eyes were narrowed with intensity and a look of resolve he'd never seen before. Unequivocally, she would make a stand here at the plantation and defy, if necessary, even God himself. "Tess will be dropping by soon," Gib said softly.

Dany tried to curb her impatience while Tess laid out the plan to take the plantation families to the three villages she worked with. It had been two days since Gib's visit, and she knew the clock was ticking on her two weeks. Dany sat tensely on the silk couch in the drawing room, legs crossed, hands folded in her lap as Gib's sister painstakingly outlined the details. On any other occasion, Dany would love to spend time with Tess. But not now. "So that's it in a nutshell, Dany," Tess concluded. "Your families will be safe, because there are at least twenty Marines in those villages at all times. A navy corpsman at the village makes sure everyone receives proper medical attention. Each of the village chieftains I spoke with will welcome them. They're already building new huts to accommodate your people. A friend of mine is scrounging up enough plywood and nails to make a nice place for them to live." Tess forced a slight smile. "I know how hard this must be on you, but it's the only way." Dany nodded. "I have so much to thank you for, Tess. Without you, I'm afraid the Vietnam government would have sent them to a resettlement camp where they'd be little more than prisoners in their own country." Almost as soon as Gib had left, word had spread like wildfire across the plantation that she was selling out to the Americans. Where that erroneous piece of information had come from, Dany didn't know. Worried that Binh Duc might get his hands on the gossip, she'd tried to rectify the situation by telling her people the truth. When her families had found out they were moving, it had been as if a bomb had struck them. Since then the atmosphere had been gloomy. Tess shrugged. "How about I drop by in a couple of days? Gib is arranging to have trucks come and transport your people to these various villages. I'll help coordinate the moving." Rising, Dany reached out and touched Tess's shoulder. "You're just like your brother, kind and caring." "Well," Tess growled, "not all Americans are into destroying this country part and parcel." Ma Ling appeared at the doorway. "There is a phone call for you from the doctor, daughter." Dany said goodbye to Tess and took the call. In two days, her people would be

gone, and she'd be here alone, defending her home-her life. *

*

*

"Major Ramsey, we've got a real build-up of VC to the south of us," Sergeant Masters said, placing a "top secret" report on Gib's desk. Scowling, Gib studied the report as the sergeant remained nearby. Intelligence had issued a warning of VC gathering just south of Highway 14, near the Villard plantation. His gaze moved to the projection by Intelligence: attack eminent. His heart starting a slow pound, Gib glanced up at his sergeant. "Thanks, Smitty." The sergeant nodded. "That little lady better read the handwriting on the wall. If she don't vacate now, she's liable to get blown out of there by VC rocket launchers, mortars and bullets-or get caught in the middle of a good old-fashioned shoot-out between us and the bad guys." Fear struck deeply through Gib as he rose to his feet. "I'm going over to the Villard plantation right now. I'll be back in about two hours." "Yes, sir. Good luck on persuadin' that lady to get the hell out while she's got the chance!" Pulling his utility cap onto his head with a jerk and tugging the bill down to shade his eyes from the blinding sunlight, Gib left Operations. Dany's workers were safe. They'd been trucked to their new homes yesterday under Tess's supervision. As he requisitioned a jeep from the motor pool and climbed in, Gib wondered if this new and dangerous information would change Dany's mind. It had to. Gib found Dany among the rubber trees, working hard, her dark blue work clothes damp with sweat. Ma Ling followed him at a wary distance, scowling heavily. She hadn't liked him showing up in a military vehicle, much less in his Marine utilities suit. Dany was on her hands and knees, repairing a dike around one of the rubber trees to keep the irrigation water from leaking out. She looked up suddenly, and her heart skipped a beat. Gib. As she stood, she tried to dust off her hands. Gib looked every inch the warrior, the bill of his cap shading his face and darkening his tense features. There was a nervous energy around him that Dany had never seen before. He walked as if he were tightly wound, like a grenade ready to explode. His countenance frightened her, and the fact he'd showed up in uniform again worried her even more. Taking several steps toward him, she said, "Gib, what's wrong?" Gib halted inches from Dany, taking advantage of the tree branches overhead to get out of the blistering rays of the sun. All around them the fragrance of orchids filled the air, birds sang and the sky was a clear, turquoise blue. Everything looked peaceful and stunningly beautiful, but Gib knew otherwise. He pushed the bill of his cap up and turned to include Ma Ling, who was coming up behind him as rapidly as her short legs would carry her. "I've just received an Intelligence report." He pointed toward the south. "There's a VC build-up five miles away on the border of your land. Intelligence says there's going to be an attack, Dany." His gaze shifted down to her. "The VC will be crossing your border to attack Marble Mountain. Do you understand what that means?"

Shocked, Dany tried to assimilate the information. Her mind spun. Binh Duc. She glanced over at Ma Ling's set, inscrutable features. In Vietnamese, she asked, "Do you think this is Binh Duc's doing?" "I do, my daughter," Ma Ling replied. "He had spies even among our people. Word surely would have gotten back to him." "He may believe I've sold out to the Americans," Dany said. Ma Ling nodded. "There is no doubt." Gib saw the worry on Dany's perspiring features. She took off the bamboo hat and set it against the trunk of a tree, wiping her brow with the back of her sleeve. "Dany-" "I know, Gib. You're telling me the VC will go through my land to attack you." "Yes, and they're massing on your property line right now." He gripped her arm. "Dany, they aren't going to go around your farm this time. They'll come straight through it." "I can't believe it." She pulled from his grip. Pushing strands of damp hair away from her temples, Dany added, "The Marines have to do what they must to protect themselves at the base, Gib, but the VC will honor our neutrality. They'll go around our property." Damn it, what was the matter with her? Gib almost said it aloud, but bit the sentence back, swallowing hard. "Look," he rasped, "the games are over, Dany. Intelligence has been watching this VC build-up for the last week! Do you realize that the day we stood talking in your drawing room there was a man listening by the other entrance? He ran down the hall after he heard you had to sell your property.'' "What are you talking about? Why didn't you tell me this before?" Dany's voice rose a notch and she trembled inwardly. One of Duc's spies? Had this man, whoever he was, gone directly to Duc and told him what he'd heard? Frustration curdled within her as she glared up at Gib. "Because I didn't think it was important," Gib said tightly. "I was more worried about you at the time. I thought he was one of your workers who had come to talk to you about something, that's all." Rubbing her temples, which were beginning to pound with pain, Dany glanced over at Ma Ling. "Who could it have been?" she asked in Vietnamese. "Any one of our people, daughter." Ma Ling shrugged. "It matters not. What will you do?" "I could go to Binh Duc and talk to him." Ma Ling's eyes widened. "No! You dare not go! I believe the major. I believe Duc is going to attack not the base, but you." Dany stared at her nanny for long seconds, stunned. Ma Ling had always supported her, always been there whenever she needed her. Now she was siding with Gib.

"Dany, you've got to leave and that's all there is to it," Gib pleaded. "No more waiting. No more talk about defending your property. When the VC attack, they'll kill you, whether you're French, American or anything else." His throat ached with tension. Would she listen to reason? Dany whirled angrily on Gib. "I don't believe the VC will attack me. They may be massing to attack Marble Mountain or the Marines, but not me! We have a thirty-year truce. Word has gone out that I have to sell, even though I don't want to. That's the difference, don't you see? The Marines have to do what they must to stop them, but not on my property. I won't allow the war to take place on this land, do you understand?" Gib could barely control his own temper. There was such desperation in Dany's eyes and in her voice. It was as if she truly couldn't believe that either side in this damned war would involve her or her property. Ma Ling came forward and looked up at him with her dark eyes. "Major, you will bring a truck tomorrow?" "For you?" he asked, not quite understanding Ma Ling's sudden leadership role. Dany was staring at the nanny with an open mouth. "Yes, you bring truck tomorrow, Major. I will help my daughter pack. You take her to a safe place. I join my family at Cam Na." Relief shattered through Gib. At least Ma Ling saw the danger, even if Dany didn't. "I'll have a truck here at 0800 tomorrow morning. That's a promise." "But-"Dany began. Ma Ling drew her tiny five-foot frame together, looking not only taller, but actually threatening. She wagged her finger in Dany's distraught face. "Listen to me, daughter of my heart, you have become blind due to love of house and land. Binh Duc will attack you. He no longer believe you to be neutral." "How can you know that?" Dany cried. "My senses tell me the truth! And you will come with me. As soon as we pack, we leave." Gib saw the tragic look of betrayal written all over Dany's face. His heart bled for her. Silently, he cheered the stern Ma Ling, who had suddenly assumed command and seemed to be the only one able to make Dany come to her senses. "I can bring in a Marine detachment tomorrow morning," he told them, "to protect you while you pack." "No!" Dany cried. Ma Ling agreed. "No military men. If the VC see too many soldiers, they attack sooner. I want my daughter safe." Grudgingly, Gib agreed. "Okay, but let me get a hold of my sister, Tess. She'll help Dany pack." Tess would be a big help, speeding up the process to get them off the plantation. Ma Ling nodded. "I will welcome your sister." Dany glared at both of them, her emotions at war within her. How could Ma Ling suddenly betray the plantation? And yet a small part of her was truly

frightened that her foster mother felt it was time to leave. Ma Ling didn't scare easily, but the look on the old woman's lined features told her she was frightened. Dany rubbed her temples, silent for a good minute before she spoke. "All right," she whispered finally, looking over at Gib's troubled features, "we'll leave." Gib felt his remaining tension ease. "Good, I'll arrange some quarters for you in Da Nang until you decide what you want to do," he told Dany. He wanted to embrace Ma Ling, but the stern look on her face was forbidding. "You think we safe until tomorrow, Major?" Ma Ling demanded testily. "According to the report, I think so. But look," he pleaded, "why don't both of you come with me this evening? Spend the night at the base and come back here to pack tomorrow. That would be a hell of a lot safer." "No," Dany whispered rawly. "If we do that, the VC will know we're on your side." And to Ma Ling, she added, "Nothing will change. I'll work out here and you pack inside. If Binh Duc sees me suddenly disappear inside when he knows I work outside from dawn to dusk, he may get suspicious and attack much sooner." Ma Ling agreed. "You plan wisely, daughter. I'm proud of you. Yes, I will pack. Things must go as if we know nothing." Gib ached to kiss Dany, to hold her and protect her, but he could do none of those things. He looked at both women and said, "The truck will be here at 0800. Dany, if you get into any trouble or suspect a problem, call me immediately. Promise?" He drilled her with a hard look. Licking her suddenly dry lower lip, Dany nodded. "I promise." "I'll send Tess over to help you as soon as possible." "Yes... thanks...." As soon as Gib had left, Dany ran into the house and got violently ill. She came out of the bathroom to see Ma Ling standing in the hall waiting for her. Ma Ling came forward and put her arm around Dany's waist. "Daughter, your illness is more than just flu," she said in Vietnamese as she guided Dany to her bedroom. "I'm calling Dr. Perot. He will examine you." Dany wearily sat down on the double bed; "What are you talking about?" she asked. Ma Ling's stern features melted. "Have you noticed any changes in your body, my daughter?" Dany's eyes widened. "Changes?" "Yes. I see your breasts have become fuller. You are sick every day. There are changes." Dany pressed her hand to her breasts. Her heart started to pound. "What are you saying?" Ma Ling stroked her hair gently. "I believe you are pregnant, daughter."

Thunderstruck, Dany opened her mouth, then shut it. Moving a hand to her belly, she stared up at Ma Ling. She had told no one, not even Ma Ling, that she'd made love with Gib almost three months ago. "But-" "The signs are there," Ma Ling said in a quiet tone. "Dr. Perot will confirm it, but I already know. You are with child. Major Ramsey's child?" Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Dany bowed her head. "My God, Ma Ling..." No longer did she deny what her nanny saw. She didn't have the flu, she had morning sickness. Flu didn't cycle every morning with such regularity, she realized in a daze. And every morning, like clockwork, she had thrown up. Her hand still pressed hard against her belly, she realized there was life in there, a symbol of the love she'd shared with Gib. Dany whispered, "Yes, get Dr. Perot over here right away."

Dr. Perot, a rotund man in his early sixties sporting a thin mustache and goatee, smiled at Dany as she entered the drawing room. Ma Ling was waiting beside the doctor. "No doubt about it, Dany. You're pregnant. I would say two months, perhaps a bit longer." Miserably, Dany looked over at Ma Ling. She tried to smile, but failed terribly. "I... thank you, Doctor." "Now, I'm going to leave you a homeopathic remedy for that morning sickness." He took a dark, amber-colored vial from his black leather bag and placed it on the coffee table. "Four pellets under the tongue once a day, and you'll scoot through this trimester without any discomfort." In shock, Dany asked Ma Ling to see the doctor out. She went up to her room, and, standing at the open window overlooking the rows of rubber trees, felt hot tears trickle down her cheeks. She had behaved exactly like every other Vietnamese woman who had ever fallen for a GI-she was pregnant. A part of her, the woman who loved Gib fiercely, was overjoyed. But her head shrilled at her that she was going to be abandoned once more. Rubbing her aching brow with her trembling hand, Dany had no idea how Gib would take the news, or indeed, if she should tell him at all. Would it make a difference? It didn't seem to with other GIs. A soft sob broke from Dany, her entire body shaking in the wake of it. Deep within her, she knew Gib would make a wonderful father. He had been a wonderful lover to her. Dashing the tears from her eyes, Dany fought to control her unraveling feelings. She was in the process of losing her home, the land that had never betrayed her. Dany turned, her hand protectively moving to her belly, to her baby. Their baby. That was the only solace Dany felt in a world that was suddenly coming apart before her very eyes. In two days she'd be moving. She had to force herself to pack. Overwhelmed, Dany decided not to tell Gib about her pregnancy until she was situated in Da Nang. Then, she'd have the time to feel her way through what decisions had to be made.

Chapter Twelve "Ma Ling and the Marine truck just drove away," Tess said as she walked into Dany's spacious bedroom, dusting off her hands. "After the sergeant takes her

to the village, he'll take your furniture to Da Nang for storage. We have to finish packing the second truck out front. Where do you want me to start?" Dany was sitting on the gleaming teak floor beside one of her bamboo dressers, several boxes open around her. Pointing toward the closet, she said, "I've got some large boxes in there. You can begin packing my clothes." Tess smiled and nodded. "I love looking at other women's clothes. Not that I've got a job or place to wear nice things, but it's always nice to look." Dany managed a strained smile. "You're just like me, Tess-a farmer first. I don't really have that many good clothes, as you'll discover. Most of my life has been spent here, working." Tess grinned. "Yeah, but when we clean up, we look pretty good, don't we?" "I guess so," Dany agreed with a small laugh. Just having Tess here was helping to lighten her heart. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the open doors that led to the balcony. Wiping her brow, Dany continued to pack with a sense of urgency. She'd slept poorly last night, tossing and turning, dreaming of her baby, of Gib's reaction and of Binh Duc attacking her plantation. Shaken, Dany had dressed this morning in a pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse instead of her usual farming clothes. Still barefoot, she had begun to help Ma Ling pack her valuables. There was so much still left in the house. Was Gib right? Was attack so eminent that she couldn't take the time to move all the furniture? What about the pictures of her parents-the memorabilia that sometimes made the house feel more like a museum than a home? Gib. His name flowed through Dany, easing the anxiety that threatened to turn to panic. More than anything, she needed to see him, needed simply to be held and feel safe for just a moment. Tess had informed her that Gib was out on a mission and would return late this afternoon, and then he'd drop by and see her. Dany sighed. She had no idea where she would go after the hotel in Da Nang. Saigon? Somewhere around Da Nang? Perhaps move to southern France and live near where her father's relatives farmed? Closing one box and taping it shut, Dany sighed again. She didn't want to leave Gib. But his tour was up in three months, and he'd be heading back to America. Rubbing a trickle of sweat from her temple, Dany got to her feet and retrieved another box. At no time had Gib suggested that she come stateside with him. Trying desperately to stop the burgeoning ache within her, Dany listlessly opened another drawer and began to pack her lingerie. Bitterness coated her mouth as she wrestled with the reality of her situation. She was worth bedding down here in "Vietnam, but not worth marrying. Worse, she was carrying his child. Shame blotted out her hope for some kind of future with Gib. If her father were alive, he'd be outraged at her behavior-sleeping with a man without even a promise of marriage. That kind of behavior just wasn't tolerated. How badly Dany wanted to find a few quiet minutes alone with Gib to tell him that she loved him. That was the first and most important step. If he accepted her love, perhaps then she could tell him of her pregnancy. This evening, once she was in Da Nang and Gib was off flight duty, those minutes would become

available during their agreed-upon dinner date. And after she told him her real feelings, what would he do? Drop her, as so many other GIs did when their Vietnamese women spoke their hearts' truths? By three o'clock, Dany and Tess sat in the small but bright kitchen having an iced tea break. Dany liked Gib's tall, confident sister. Tess was a hard and uncomplaining worker. She'd accomplished just as much as Dany had during the day of packing. Just as Dany opened her mouth to speak, a huge, jarring explosion sounded behind the house. Tess leaped to her feet. "Mortars!" she cried. "What?" Dany jumped up from the stool, looking toward the billowing black cloud roiling upward as one tall rubber tree cracked, groaned and fell toward the churned-up earth. "Come on," Tess muttered, gripping her arm. "We've got to get out of here-now!'' Her heart slamming into her throat, Dany turned. Four more mortar explosions shattered the stillness. More rubber trees fell. The closest shell exploded with deafening impact near the perimeter of the backyard, and the concussion shattered the kitchen windows. Dirt, clods of grass, and shrubbery peppered the kitchen like projectiles. Dany was thrown off her feet. She heard Tess groan. Rolling onto her stomach and hugging the tile floor for safety, Dany looked around. The blast had knocked Tess against the wall. Semiconscious on the floor, she was weakly trying to move. Blood was flowing from her nose. Just then, Marine Lance Corporal John Heath, who'd been loading the truck out front came running into the kitchen. His eighteen-year-old face was flushed, his eyes wide with fear. "The VC are attacking! They have the road blocked," Heath gasped, looking around. "We'll need help. I'm gonna radio Marble Mountain from my truck for gunship protection, and then I'll come back and help defend you. Just hang on." Tess crawled shakily to her hands and knees. "Hurry!" she said. The lance corporal nodded jerkily and ran out of the room, his heavy combat boots clunking loudly down the hall. Tess jerked her head toward Dany. "Stay down!" she ordered. Voices! Dany heard angry, high voices. Binh Duc! Gripping Tess, she hauled her beneath the huge butcher-block table in the middle of the kitchen. Crawling over to the back door on her hands and knees, Dany quickly locked it. Would the young Marine be able to call the base for help? Binh Duc was attacking her plantation! "We need weapons," Tess rasped from beneath the safety of the table. "Those guys out there mean business, Dany. We've got to hold them off until the gunships and Marines get here. You got any rifles? Pistols?" "Yes. I know where they are," Dany gasped. "Stay here. I'll get them." Crouching low, she ran out of the kitchen and toward her father's little-used

den. More mortar shells rocked the area. Dirt, rocks and trees vomited upward outside the window as Dany entered the dimly lit room deep in the center of the house. With trembling hands she pulled open a small drawer in the teak desk and drew out a key. Her father had been an avid hunter. On the wall in a glass case were ten rifles and small arms. Her hands shook so badly that she had trouble unlocking the gun cabinet. Finally she got it open. Grabbing two rifles, she heard the front door slam shut. It was the Marine. "I'm in the den," Dany called out, her voice high, off-key. Heath appeared at the doorway, his M-14 rifle clutched in his hands. He was breathing raggedly, sweat dotting his strained features. "I got through, Miss Villard. The gunships and Marines are on their way. They're gonna send helicopters in to soften up the area, and once we've got an LZ, a landing zone secured, they'll land and off-load the grunts right here on the grounds of your plantation. It'll be at least twenty minutes before they get here. We gotta keep down and defend this place till then." "A-all right. Tess and I have the back door covered." "Yes, ma'am. I'll take the front door. Those are the only entrances?" "Yes." Dany balanced the two rifles with several boxes of ammunition in her arms. "Good," the lance corporal whispered unsteadily. "Man, I've only been over here a week. This is hairy." Dany tried to smile. "Just do the best you can." "Will you ladies be okay back there?" Touched by Heath's concern, Dany nodded. "We'll be fine. Just guard that front door and stay safe." "Yes, ma'am." Dany ran back toward the kitchen. Tess was sitting up beneath the table holding her head with her hands. The floor was showered with dirt and shards of glass. Dany crouched down at the doorway and made her way over to Tess. "Are you hurt?" "Naw, just shook up. A lot of glass in my hair is all." "Thank God. Here," Dany quavered. "Rifles and ammunition. Do you know how to work one of these things?" Tess glanced ruefully at Dany. "Texas born-and-bred- I was raised with a rifle in one hand and a knife in the other." "You're better off than I am, then," Dany said, loading the rifle, "because I hate guns. My father tried to teach me to use one of these things a long time ago. Now I wish I'd paid more attention. We're going to have to defend ourselves until the Marines get here." Getting to her knees, Tess expertly slid the cartridges into the rifle she

held. "Did Heath call the base?" Trying to control her shaking, Dany nodded. "Yes. They're sending Marines by helicopter. They should be herein twenty minutes." Stumbling to her feet, Tess crouched by the splintered door, which barely hung on its hinges. She lodged her back against the refrigerator so she had a clear view of anyone trying to attack the back of the house. "Good, because if we don't get help, we're dead. Take a look." Her heart pounding wildly in her breast, Dany quickly made her way to Tess's side. "Oh, no," she whispered. There, no more than five hundred yards away, coming in a long, broken line, were at least forty Vietcong. "It's Binh Duc and his men," Dany hissed angrily. "The bastard!" "You'd better find yourself a window to defend," Tess warned her grimly. "I can handle the door, but some of those VC are liable to try and get in through the windows." "I'll take the north side of the house. It's the easiest route if they want to slip in a window." "Okay." "If you need help, just yell." Tess patted the two boxes of ammunition next to her on the floor. "You've called the Marines. That's all we'll need. Just hang on. Things are going to get messy in a few minutes." "I know." Tess eyed her. "You know how to shoot a rifle?" "Not really..." With a shrug, Tess returned her attention to the rear door and positioned her own rifle. "Just point it and pull the trigger. Try to squeeze, not jerk, the trigger." "Okay." Dany left Tess, feeling completely inadequate for the job in front of her. She remembered Gib telling her that everyone in the Ramsey family could shoot a rifle and hunt. Now, as she ran from room to room, rifle and ammunition boxes in hand, Dany wished she'd at least fired her father's rifle when he tried to teach her so long ago. More mortar shells exploded. Glancing out a window that had yet to be broken by the blasts, Dany saw five more rubber trees slowly arcing and falling groundward. All the hard work she and her father had put into the plantation, the care and love, were being systematically destroyed by Binh Duc. Crouching by a window, Dany broke the glass pane and lifted the muzzle of the rifle to the sill. In the distance, between the dust and smoke of the exploding mortars, she could see the advancing line of VC. Dany didn't want to shoot at them. She'd never killed anyone, and she didn't want to start now. Blinking back the sweat that stung her eyes, she crouched tensely by the windows. If only the Marines would land in time! The line of VC was moving closer. Where was Binh Duc? Dany couldn't see him. To her horror, she recognized her foreman among the advancing line. Swallowing hard, she pressed her hand against her mouth. She couldn't kill him! The man had six children

and a wonderful wife. Why had he switched sides and joined Duc? Sudden gunfire erupted from the front of the house and Dany jumped. It had to be Heath firing his weapon. Then she heard the huge boom of a rifle in the rear. Tess was firing hers, too. Anxious, Dany waited and watched for someone to appear on the north side of the house. Could she actually pull the trigger? A war of emotions plunged through her as she knelt near the window, torn by indecision. With a crash, the window to her right shattered. A Molotov cocktail flew through the opening, the bottle filled with fuel smashing against the carpet, spilling and exploding into a ball of fire. Crying out, Dany dropped the rifle and threw her hands up to protect her face. She fell backwards, off-balance. Heat singed her skin. She could smell the acrid odor of her hair, also singed by the ball of fire. Choking and coughing in the smoke roiling through the room, Dany picked up the rifle. Blinded by the smoke, she stumbled into the hall. Rifle fire erupted from the kitchen again. Tess! Dany ran jerkily down the hall, her knees dangerously weak. Suddenly bullets pinged and ripped through the walls. With a cry, Dany dropped to the floor on her belly, the rifle clattering away from her outstretched hand. Dany heard another window shatter on the south side of the house. Someone had broken it and was climbing in. She could hear VC voices drifting down the hall! Her heart pounding hard in her throat, she recaptured the rifle and crept closer to the room. She could see four VC climbing through the broken window. Gripping the rifle, Dany stood there, torn. From above, she could hear the distinct whap, whap, whap of approaching helicopters. Her breath jammed in her throat as she wondered if Gib was one of the pilots. Biting down hard on her lower lip, Dany backed away from the room into another one and took a quick look out the window. At least ten dark green Sirkorsky gunships were speeding toward the plantation at less than a thousand feet. It would be moments before they arrived. Several VC voices rose with furious authority, and terror snaked up Dany's spine. She stood at the entrance to the room. Fear seized her. What if the VC fired at Gib and his men? The punctuating beat of the helicopters shattered the air and mixed with the explosion of mortar shells that danced around the house. The Marine aircraft were like angry hornets. Their rockets fired, and the violent, hammering explosions reverberated through the house, pounding at her eardrums. More ground fire swelled, and Dany scrambled to the end of the hall, next to the kitchen. She sat down, her back against the wall, the rifle pointed toward the doorway of the room the VC had entered. They'd have to appear there when they left the room. How many of them were in the house? Dany gasped for breath as smoke rolled ominously down the hall and flames licked out of the room where the Molotov cocktail had landed. Dany waited, her heart in her throat. Then, her focus narrowing, she saw several men clad in black, wearing bamboo hats, swing into the hall, their weapons pointed in her direction. Dany screamed out a warning for them to leave, but the three VC stared at her, gray shadows in the murky smoke. Just as the first one raised his rifle to kill her, Dany fired. The shots went wild, but it was enough to force them back into the room. Seconds later, a hand grenade was tossed down the hall toward her.

With a cry, Dany scrambled to her feet and dove into the kitchen. Everything slowed to single frames for her as she landed hard on her belly. Tess was at the rear door, firing deliberately at wildly running VC who were being trapped by the furious helicopter assault from above. "Tess!" she shrieked, "grenade!" Dany lunged to the farthest end of the room, away from the grenade she knew would explode any second now. The entire house shook with the explosion, fire and shrapnel bursting into the room. Dany threw her hands over her head. Tess screamed. Scorching heat rolled over them. Hundreds of wood projectiles acted like bullets, flying into the walls and out the shattered windows. Dazed, blood dribbling from her nose and mouth, Dany got to her feet. She made her wobbly way through the dust, smoke and debris in the kitchen. Tess had been thrown to the floor, with many lacerations on her hands and arms. Dany grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. Any moment now the VC would come down the hall and finish them off. "Come on!" Dany pleaded as Tess groaned and leaned heavily against her. "We've got to get out!" The house was on fire, the flames spreading rapidly. Blindly, choking on the smoke, Dany shoved open what was left of the back door with her foot and they tumbled out onto the lawn, so freshly churned that it looked like a furrowed field. Overhead, more gunships were arriving. Only now they were landing and troops were off-loading. The Marines had arrived! Dany swayed and steadied the semiconscious Tess. Men, gunfire, flames and cries surrounded them. The last aircraft to land unloaded seventeen more well armed Marines. One of the men, a sergeant, headed directly toward them, gesturing sharply for them to hurry up and come to him. Dany got a better grip around Tess's waist. It was a two-hundred-yard run to the nearest helicopter, and Dany knew they could be killed by either friendly or enemy fire. Bullets were singing back and forth like angry bees. Dany knew if they were to have a chance of surviving, they had to make a run for the helicopter. Tess was recovering enough to understand the danger of their precarious situation. Crouching, they both ran on wobbly legs toward the Marine gunships. Halfway across the rutted earth, Dany heard a tremendous explosion just to the left of her. Jerking her head up, she saw a huge ball of fire engulf one of the helicopters, until the entire front of it was consumed in flames. The aircraft staggered midair, then slowly nosed over toward the stand of rubber trees. "Gib!" Dany shrieked, frozen to the spot. In horror, she realized that it was his helicopter that had been hit by ground fire. She had seen that eagle painted on the fuselage the day she'd visited Vinh at the base in Da Nang. She pressed her hands against her mouth as she watched the olive green aircraft slowly bank and sink downward, the screech of the turbine engines high and off-pitch. The helicopter struck the rubber trees, hung suspended for a moment, then slowly fell to the ground, burning furiously. "Hey!" the sergeant yelled, grabbing Dany by the hand. "Come on! You crazy or somethin'? We gotta get outta here!" Nearly yanked off her feet, Dany sobbed. The sergeant literally threw her and Tess into the rear compartment of the helicopter. "Lift off!" the sergeant screamed at the pilots. "Lift off!"

Bullets slammed into the aircraft. Dany and Tess hugged the metal deck, frozen in fear. The crew chief manning the machine gun at the entrance fired back, the deep-throated staccato growl of gunfire enveloping the area, the aircraft shaking from the power of the weapon. The helicopter moved slowly upward, its huge thin blades reaching for altitude as the engine shrieked and labored. Dany lay there, her eyes narrowed, clutching at the metal deck as the pilot brought the straining bird up and then pitched it over into a steep bank to avoid more VC ground fire. Still, bullets stitched through the thin skin just behind the door. With a cry, Dany curled up in a fetal position next to Tess as more bullets tore through the main cabin. How long Dany remained huddled against Tess, she didn't know. Finally, the noise from the firefight dissolved and all that was left was the shaking, shuddering flight of the noisy Sirkorsky itself. Opening her eyes, Dany looked around. Humid air whipped through the open doors, slapping her bodily. Shakily, she looked over at Tess. Except for a large number of bloody scratches and minor lacerations, they both appeared to be uninjured. Gib. What about Gib? Dany tried to communicate with the two pilots in the cockpit, but they couldn't hear her. The flight back to Da Nang was the longest in Dany's life. She wondered grimly if Tess was even aware that it had been Gib's aircraft shot from the sky. Landing at Da Nang, Dany and Tess were hurriedly taken from the helicopter. As they stood on the landing pad, the aircraft took on another load of Marines and lifted off to fly back into the fray. Wind whipped around them, sending up huge dust clouds. Dany turned and ran toward the tent that had Ops written on the door, and Tess followed at her heels. Inside, both women stood staring at the men behind the desks. "Miss Ramsey," Sergeant Masters whispered in a shocked tone, coming around his desk. "My God, you're hurt. Don't tell me-" He stopped and stared at them with an open mouth. "You were both at the plantation when the VC attacked?" Gulping, Tess nodded and tried to push her grimy hair off her brow. "Yeah, we were there, Smitty. Listen, can you get us some medical aid? Dany has an awful cut on her arm." Dany blinked, belatedly noticing the injury Tess was talking about. Her left arm was covered with blood. Her mouth dry, she let out a little croak. The sergeant grabbed her and aimed her at the nearest chair. "Better sit down, Miss Villard." Smitty looked over at another gawking Marine. "Johnny, get someone from the nearest MASH unit over here. Pronto!" In shock, Dany shook her head. "No, sergeant. Gib-Gib was shot down." "What?" Tess whispered, crouching down, her hand resting on Dany's knee. "What did you say?" Tears stung Dany's eyes. "Oh, God, I hope I was wrong, Tess, but as we were running for the helicopter, Gib's aircraft was shot down. I-I saw it fall into the rubber grove." She pressed her hands against her face, an awful feeling working its way through her. Dany felt the sergeant's hand on her shoulder, and it was the only thing that gave her any sense of reality.

"No," Tess whispered, straightening. She looked at the sergeant. "Find out, Smitty. Find out right now. Have them raise Gib on the radio!" "Yes, ma'am!" He turned to Private Harner at the rear of the tent. "Harner, raise Major Ramsey." "Yes, sir." Dany had begun to shake in earnest, the adrenaline beginning to leave her bloodstream. She watched dazedly as the radio operator made the call. Over and over, they tried to raise Gib. The radio crackled to life. The noise, the voices, the curses and screams filled the tent. It was hard for Dany to make sense of any of it. Yet Tess gave a little cry. Dany looked up at her in shock as Tess's face drained of color. "What?" Dany demanded. "Tess, what is it? What did he say?" Tears glittered in Tess's eyes. "You were right," she said hoarsely. "Gib's down. They're medevacing the survivor of the crash to Da Nang right now. Only one person's alive. They don't know who it is."

Chapter Thirteen "Gib's alive." Tess spoke the words hoarsely. Dany was sitting on a gurney in the Da Nang MASH unit. Dany reached out with her right hand. Her left arm was bandaged and in a sling. The last hour had been filled only with the utter hell of waiting. "Thank God," she whispered. Tess took a deep, shaky breath and gripped Dany's hand hard. "Dany, the doctor-the doctor just told me that Gib lost his lower left leg. He's critical." Gulping, she rasped, "They're flying him to Saigon right now. He needs specialists to do the surgery." Dany saw the horror in Tess's anguished gray eyes and a numbing sensation ran through her. "No," she cried softly, then slipped her arm around Tess's slumped shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, so sorry, "she wept. Dany felt Tess's arms move around her waist, and they stood and cried together, finally releasing the hours of trauma-the death they'd narrowly escaped earlier at the plantation. "I have to see Gib," Dany choked. "I don't want him there alone. Does he know he's lost his leg?" Tess shrugged brokenly, sniffing. "I don't think so. The doctor said he was unconscious from loss of blood when they brought him in off the medevac." She managed a slight, pained smile. "I can get us a lift to Saigon. I know how the Military Air Transport System works. We'll hop the next C-130 bound for Saigon and take a taxi over to the navy hospital." Dany glanced down at herself. Her clothes were dirty, torn and smelled of smoke. She looked and felt like hell, but it didn't matter. "Let's go," she urged Tess. Gamely, Tess nodded. "We can get a hotel room at the Caravelle and get cleaned up before we go to the hospital. I'll throw some clothes together for us." "I just want to be there for Gib," Dany whispered unsteadily. "He'll need

someone..." Tess pushed open the door that led out of the emergency-room facility. "I just pray he's going to make it." He had to make it, Dany thought blindly as she hurried to keep up with Tess's long-legged strides toward the BOQ tent area. The sun was just setting, red-orange rays gleaming against the glassy ocean in the distance. Her whole world had changed within two hours, Dany thought. Gib was in critical condition and might die. He was without a leg. Her home was nothing more than a gutted shell, utterly destroyed. As she trotted beside Tess, Dany clung to one thought: she loved Gib and she carried his child. No matter what happened, she would be there for him. He had stood by her. Well, now she was going to stand by him. The C-130 was a huge aircraft, and this one was loaded with supplies in its deep cargo hold. Dany huddled next to Tess on the nylon net seats near the cockpit. Everything was darkened in the hold, the only light a red one that glowed from the cockpit-barely a glimmer from where they sat. The Hercules shook, rattled and roared, its four huge turboprop engines at a high shriek as it flew through the night toward Saigon. Dany knew the four cargo handlers sat opposite them on the other side of the fuselage, but she couldn't see them because nets containing huge boxes of goods were stacked to the ceiling between them. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself, unable to sleep. She glanced over at Tess, who was sleeping lightly. Envying Gib's sister for her ability to rest in the middle of a crisis, Dany shook her head. Gently touching her left arm, now stitched, dressed and bound in a white sling, Dany tipped her head back against the nylon matting that acted as a chair behind her. A sigh broke from her lips. All she could think about, all she could feel, was Gib. Prayer after prayer ran through her head as she sat there in the hold. It had taken Tess only an hour to get them a flight out of Da Nang. They couldn't land soon enough, as far as Dany was concerned. The waiting, the not knowing, was terrible. Tess was pale as she slowly left the intensive care unit and walked toward Dany, who stood tensely at the entrance to the waiting room. Her eyes were shadowed, her full mouth pursed as she approached. Dany's heart froze, and automatically she clasped her hands to her breast. "Gib? Is he-is he going to make it?" Tess nodded and reached out to pat Dany's shoulder. "Yes. He's still unconscious from the surgery. Dr. Gail Froelich, his surgeon, said he's critical, but stable." She glanced at her watch. It was four in the morning. "I lied and told the nurses you're his fiancée," Tess said in a low voice. "Otherwise, they'd never let you see him. You can have five minutes in there with him next hour. We'll wait in the lounge, then we'll go to the hotel together afterward and get some sleep. I'm bushed." Exhaustion was lapping at Dany, too. After the C-130 flight from Da Nang to Saigon, they'd gotten a hotel room, showered and changed into clean clothes. Her left arm was throbbing without let up. Adjusting the cumbersome sling, Dany nodded wearily. "Do you want another cup of coffee?" With a groan, Tess staggered into the lounge. "God, no. I'm coffeed out." She sat down on a plastic couch and stretched out, using her arm as a pillow for

her head. "Wake me up after you've seen Gib, huh?" Dany nodded. She stood near the couch in the silence of the room watching Tess drop quickly off to sleep. It had been a terrible, traumatic day for all of them. Loneliness sliced through Dany, and she slowly turned and left the lounge. Down at the end of the white hall was a small window where she could look at the lights of Saigon. The ICU station was monitored by navy nurses and corps-waves. They barely glanced up from their numerous duties as Dany walked slowly by their busy desk. Lifting a hand to steady herself against the long, rectangular window, Dany stood with her brow pressed against the cool glass. Tiredness surged through her in waves, and she felt her knees weakening. Locking them, Dany took a deep breath and tried to sort through the morass of decisions she had to make. Everything seemed at an end. The last piece of information she'd been able to gather about her plantation had come from Smitty. He'd talked to a Marine company commander who was setting up a perimeter on what was left of her property. Opening her eyes, Dany remembered every word Smitty had said: The captain says your house is burned to the ground, Miss Villard. I'm really sorry. No, nothing was saved. The rubber trees-well, there ain't a whole lot of those left after the mortar attacks by the VC and the rockets launched by the gunships. Yes, the VC were pushed back. They just faded back into the jungle. You know how they are. It appears they were ready with fifty-calibers for the first wave of assault helicopters. Smitty's voice cracked and then hardened. But we pounded the hell out of the area. Yes, come tomorrow the Marines are going to check the land for any mines the VC left behind, then they 're bringing in the bulldozers to level your property. We'll have men comb the ashes of your home to see if they can find anything worth saving. Gone. Almost everything she'd ever owned was gone. Tears welled in her eyes, but Dany forced them back. Gone were all the photos of her mother and father. Gone was the Hollywood memorabilia that had meant so much to them. Dany had thought she wouldn't miss those painful reminders of her parents' but she missed them now. Her hand clenched at her side as she stood there feeling more alone than she ever had in her entire life. Dany had thought she knew what being alone was like, but this was a new and terrifying feeling. At least her Vietnamese families were safe from the VC. Thanks to Tess and her hard work, her people's lives would move forward with minimal disruption. At least they'd been spared watching the plantation and trees being destroyed. Dany sniffed and rubbed her nose. The only clothes she had were the ones Tess had loaned her for the flight to Saigon. Her scrapbooks, a world where she'd loved to take her own flights of fantasy as a child, had been burned up in the fire. Ma Ling had made her a doll when she was seven because her mother had never given her one. That doll, its painted face worn off from hugs, kisses and washings, had also been destroyed in the flames. More tears jammed into Dany's tightly shut eyes. It was a doll she had planned on giving their child when she was old enough. "Miss Villard?" Dany sniffed and turned toward the woman's voice. It was a tall, red-haired woman in pale green surgical outfits. "Y-yes?" "I'm Dr. Gail Froelich." She smiled gently. "It's 0500. You may see your fiancée, Major Ramsey, for five minutes only. He's in room four."

"Th-thank you." Dany quickly scrubbed her eyes free of the tears. She hurriedly caught up with the surgeon. "Is Gib awake yet?" "Mmm, he's semiconscious, not really too coherent yet." The doctor grimaced. "And he's in a lot of pain." "Does he know he's lost his leg?" "Yes. I was just in to see him before Tess's visit." Dany's own heart burst with pain. Gib's pain. She slowed as the surgeon opened the glass-enclosed unit with a number four on the door. She looked in, appalled at all the instruments and apparatus surrounding Gib. He looked whiter than the sheets that covered him. "Miss Villard?" the doctor prompted gently. Embarrassed, Dany stepped into the room. The door closed quietly behind her. The air smelled of antiseptic and other disinfectant odors that made her wince. Slowly, Dany approached, her gaze moving to the end of the bed. Gib's left leg was heavily bandaged and resting in a special device on top of the covers. Where once he'd had a foot and ankle, there was nothing. Her heart lurched, and automatically Dany reached out, sliding her fingers around Gib's hand. Both his arms held IVs, and his skin felt chilled and damp to her telling fingers. Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, swollen around a long cut along his jaw. Stitches held it shut. How much he must have suffered. Easing her fingers through his dark hair, Dany watched as Gib's lashes fluttered open. She held her breath as Gib slowly turned his head in her direction. His lids lifted, revealing dazed eyes, dark with pain. His lips moved soundlessly, then he groaned as if reliving the crash. "Shh, darling, it's all right. You're safe," Dany crooned, stroking his sweat-beaded brow. The beep of the heart monitor was tearing at her shredded composure. There were so many unfeeling machines in the room. What Gib needed was warmth, care and touch. Dany smiled down into his barely opened eyes. "Ma...?" He wasn't coherent, Dany thought. "No, it's me, Dany.'' And then she took the greatest risk in her life. Her voice hoarse, she whispered, "Gib, I love you so much. Do you hear me? No matter what happens, I'll be here for you. I don't care if you lost your leg." She touched his sweaty brow, her voice filled with tears. "I love you, Gib." He began to thrash his head from side to side, the movement slow, as if he were trying to shake off the effects of the anesthesia. "No...no! Get away...get away." Dany froze. "Gib?" "Get away!" he cried hoarsely, and weakly raised his hand. Stunned, Dany backed away from the bed. "Gib, it's me, Dany. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. Oh, God, don't you know who I am?" Her heart crumpled with pain-his and her own. The wildness in Gib's slitted eyes grew more intense as he stared at her.

"Get away, Dany," he mumbled. "Can't...no use...get away, Dany. No good... it's no good..." A cry tore from her. Gib knew who she was! Wavering, she stood with her hand pressed against her mouth to stop another sob. Tears blinded her. Gib had heard her tell him that she loved him. Still, he lay there rolling his head back and forth, muttering over and over again the word "no." Stifling the urge to weep openly, Dany stumbled out of the room, ran down the hall past the nurses' station and into the restroom. It was the only private place she could find to sob wildly. Staggering to a stop, she fell against the cool, tiled wall of the restroom, her face buried in her hands. The sobs started, softly at first, and then wrenching upward, as if some giant, invisible hand were trying to tear her heart out of her body. Exhausted, Dany slid downward until she sat on the floor, legs drawn up toward her body, her head buried in the crook of her arm, crying. Crying for herself, for her loss of Gib and for the loss of his leg. Today she'd lost everything-including the only man she'd ever loved. She was a Vietnamese woman carrying an American's baby. They would both be left behind, alone and abandoned, when he was sent stateside.

Chapter Fourteen Two days later, Gib was coherent for the first time. When he awoke, Tess was at his bedside gripping his hand, her face drawn with worry, dark shadows beneath her eyes. She was blotting his sweaty forehead. Gradually his eyes focused on her. He opened his mouth to speak, but found it dry and his voice nonexistent. When Tess gently slid her arm beneath his shoulders and held a glass of water to his lips, he drank thirstily. Then, letting his head sink back into the pillows, he thanked her by weakly squeezing her hand. "Tess," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Where's Dany?" Gib remembered that somewhere in his dreams and nightmares of the past days, mixed with his fear of crashing and dying, Dany had been there. Or had she? With a grimace, Tess gripped his hand, as if to prepare him. "She was at your side two days ago, Gib. And when you sent her away...well, she left." Her hand tightened around his at the puzzlement and then agony in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I tried to tell her that you were just coming out of anesthesia, but she wouldn't believe me. She said you were shouting at her to leave." His mind barely functioning, Gib assimilated Tess's strained explanation. His gaze moved to his leg. Desperately, he tried to piece together what had happened. Dr. Froelich had come in and told him he'd lost his left foot and ankle. Then Dany had appeared. Weakly raising his arm, he rubbed his aching eyes with his fingers. "She must have thought I was yelling at her," Gib rasped unsteadily. "I wasn't. Dr. Froelich had just told me I'd lost part of my leg. I remember not believing her until I tried to move my left foot, and then I realized nothing moved." Gib closed his eyes and his voice cracked. "Right after that, the helo crash blipped in front of me-us getting hit. I remember trying to tear out of my harness when I saw Dany come running toward me. I was screaming at her to get away, go back, because I knew the helo was going to blow. She kept coming closer and closer. I remember her calling my name, and I was frantic to protect her. I was trying to save myself and her at the same time. I remember

screaming at the top of my lungs at her to get back-" "Oh, no," Tess breathed. "That's what Dany was sobbing about. She told me you had told her to go away. Now I understand everything." Looking up at his sister, Gib asked, "Where's Dany now?" "Back in Da Nang. I-I found her weeping in the woman's restroom after a nurse woke me in the lounge and told me what had happened. Dany was sitting on the floor crying her heart out. When I leaned down and asked why, she said you didn't want her around anymore." Groaning, Gib lay back, helpless anger snaking through him. "That's not true! I was out of my head with the crash sequence. Dany must have thought I was denying her." "She loves you," Tess whispered unsteadily, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Oh, Gib, she loves you so much." His own eyes narrowed. "Dany told you that?" "Yes, just before she left." His fist knotted. Brokenly, Tess continued. "Gib, the VC attack on her home left it totally destroyed. Dany had no place to go after she left the hospital. She was in shock from losing her home-her whole life has been ripped away from her. She said her mother had been an orphan, so she had no relatives in the States to go to. Dany's in Da Nang, but I think she's planning on leaving for France to live with her father's kin." "What kind of shape was she in?" Gib's mind refused to function as he wanted. He'd lost part of his leg. The career he'd thought he'd have for twenty years was suddenly over. He would never fly again. The woman he loved with a desperation that more than paralleled what he felt at the loss of his extremity, was gone, too, and it tore at his raw heart. "Not good. Dany couldn't stop crying." Softly, Tess added, "I don't blame her, Gib. Everything in her life was gone: first her mother, then her home, and then you." "I love her, Tess." "I know that. I tried to convince her, Gib, but Dany wouldn't believe me. She said she was like any other Viet woman falling in love with an American GI. I guess you were pretty adamant about her leaving when she went in to see you." His eyes flashed with anger. "Losing my foot was a shock, Tess. It still is. I was denying what the doctor said, for God sakes! That and reliving the crash." "I know, I know." "When is she leaving for France?" "I don't know for sure. She insisted I stay here with you, and she took a taxi to the hotel. She left a note telling me she was returning to Da Nang." Tess shook her head. "She left with only the clothes on her back-the clothes I'd loaned her once we got to Da Nang, Gib. And she'd been injured during the fighting."

His gaze snapped back to Tess. "Hurt?'' "Her left arm required thirty stitches when we got to Da Nang. Flying glass hit her arm and slashed it open. The doctor at the MASH unit wanted to give her a pint of blood, but she refused, saying she was all right." Slowly, Gib was putting the pieces together. Fear warred with anger within him. "Dany was in shock from everything," he rasped, "including loss of blood." He glanced up at the features of his suffering sister. "When you've lost a lot of blood, you don't put two and two together very well." "I'm sorry, Gib. I tried to make Dany stay here. But you have to understand, we'd lived through that VC attack. Dany saw your helicopter shot out of the sky. And then, after we got patched up in Da Nang, I wrangled a C-130 flight down here to be with you." Tess held his hand tightly in hers. "Dany and I had gone without sleep for eighteen hours, Gib. Once we got to the hotel room, cleaned up and changed clothes, we came straight over here. I didn't get to see you until 4:00 A.M. that first morning. Both of us were reeling from exhaustion and shock.'' "It's no wonder Dany took my mutterings the wrong way," Gib whispered, closing his eyes. "And I never told her I loved her, Tess. I never said those words. God, if only I had before this all happened, Dany wouldn't have left. She'd have known I loved her. What the hell was I waiting on? What the hell did I think I was doing by hiding from her how I felt?" Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, Gib reopened his eyes and looked up. "Damn it, I can lose part of my leg, but I can't lose her!" Tears trickled down Tess's cheeks. "Gib, you aren't going anywhere but stateside. Dr. Froelich said you're going to be flown out of here soon to Oaknoll Naval Hospital near San Francisco.'' Panic struck Gib. "Like hell I will! I've got to get in touch with Dany. She's got to know I love her. Will you call her, Tess?" "Yes, I will. I'll try and reach her right now. Listen," Tess begged, "you're looking terrible, Gib. You've got to rest. You can't let this upset you any more than it already has. This is going to take time. I'll do everything I can from my end. Unfortunately, I've got to leave this evening for Da Nang. I want to stay, but I can't. I'm sorry." Breathing hard, with sweat beading on his taut skin, Gib rasped, "If you can't connect with Dany before you leave, then call Ma Ling when you get back to Da Nang. She was Dany's real mother. If anyone can persuade Dany to come and see me, it will be her." "Okay, okay, I will." Nervously, Tess touched her brother's dampened gown. "Gib, calm down, please. You're working yourself into a lather." "Damn it, Tess, I love Dany!" He jabbed his finger toward his bandaged extremity. "My whole life's been ripped away just like hers has! I can manage anything-everything-but I can't manage without her. Do you understand?" Sadly, Tess nodded. "I do." She leaned over and hugged him gently, placing a kiss on his perspiring brow. "I'll do what I can for you and Dany. I promise." Gib lay there, eyes closed, after Tess had left. His mind spun with options, choices and harsh reality, while pain deluged him, far sharper than the agony he endured from his wounded leg. Dany needed him, needed to know that

somewhere in this damn world, someone cared about and wanted her. She'd been unwanted all her life. But another fear, even deeper and more pervasive, chilled him. Maybe Dany had been horrified at seeing he'd lost part of his leg. Maybe that was why she'd left. Licking his cracked lips, he felt the terrible weight of the present crushing down on him. The Marine Corps would give him an immediate discharge as soon as he recovered. And he'd go home to the family ranch. Home. Gib inhaled brokenly. Home had always been the Ramsey homestead, left to him in his parents' will. At least he had a place to go and heal, something familiar. Dany had nothing and no one. He recalled poignantly that she'd said her relatives regarded her strangely because she was half-American. Dany had no place to go where she'd be welcomed with open, loving arms as he would be. He knew that Miguel and Vivi would be thrilled to hear he was coming home to run the Ramsey ranch. And their two beautiful young daughters, Marina and Jessica, would be happy because they always considered Gib their "uncle." Yes, he had a family to go home to. People who loved him, who cared for him. Bitterly, Gib wiped the sweat off his forehead, feeling nausea from the overwhelming pain floating up his leg. Still, the pain he felt in his heart was ten times worse. His love for Dany had never wavered, never changed throughout the months he'd known her. It had only grown in volume and depth, something so beautiful that Gib had feared it was too fragile, too good to last. Only he hadn't counted on how it would end. Or why. Now he could only guess why Dany had run away from him. Was it really because she believed he didn't want her? Or was it because he was no longer a whole man? Tears squeezed from beneath his spiky lashes as he lay on the bed. He cried for himself and for his loss, but more than anything, he cried for the loss of Dany.

Ma Ling hung up the phone. She stood in the spacious hotel suite in Da Nang for a good minute before moving. Dany was in the living room going through a box of items that had survived the fire at the plantation. Taking a deep breath, Ma Ling moved quietly into the room. "Who was on the phone?" Dany asked, looking up from where she sat on the carpeted floor. In her hands was a partially burned address book. "Tess Ramsey." Dany held her breath. It had been two and a half days since she'd returned from Saigon, from being with Gib. Ma Ling's face softened a she approached and sat down next to her on the pale pink sofa. "Wh-what did she say?" How was Gib? My God, she couldn't think straight since returning to Da Nang. Her mind and heart were still mired in worry for him. Gently, Ma Ling picked up Dany's hand and pressed it between her own. "Tess asked me to tell you that Gib wants to see you. She wants you to fly to Saigon immediately." Gasping, Dany rose to her knees, her heart pounding with fear. "Is he worse?" Patting her hand, Ma Ling said, "He's improving." Dany closed her eyes momentarily, her hand pressed against her heart. "Thank God."

"Daughter of my heart, you must go see Gib Ramsey." Ma Ling gestured to her belly. "You carry his child, and he doesn't even know it." Pulling her hand away, Dany stood up. Dizziness assailed her, and she caught herself. "He doesn't love me!" she cried. "Why should I go see him or tell him about his baby?" Patiently, Ma Ling stood and went over to her. Her black eyes grew determined. "Tess says differently. She says that Gib loves you." Bitterly, she stated, "That's what she told me before I left." "Then why didn't you believe her?" "Because it was coming from Tess, not from Gib! He screamed at me to leave, Ma Ling!" Choking, Dany rasped, "What choice did I have? It was obvious Gib didn't want me. I told him I loved him! And he started shouting at me to leave." Ma Ling wagged her finger in Dany's distraught face. "No! You must hear it from him. He's no longer in a cloud of drugs. You owe it to him, yourself and your child to see him one last time. To tell the truth-about everything." Dany pressed her hands against her face and fought the tears. "I-I don't want my baby to grow up without a family," she whispered. "I want her to have a family, a mother and a father who love her. I-I just don't know." Ma Ling led Dany over to the sofa and made her sit down. "There are times in each of our lives when we must ride the tiger that can kill us, daughter. That is a very old Vietnamese saying and a wise one. This is your time.'' Dany looked up at her nanny. As fierce as Ma Ling looked, her eyes shone with love. "I'm afraid," she whispered. Tenderly, Ma Ling hugged Dany. "And Gib is probably just as afraid or even more so." "Why should he be?" Dany's voice was muffled in Ma Ling's shoulder. The other woman released her and smiled down at her. "If he indeed does love you, how must he feel about losing his leg and wondering what you will think of that? Surely, he must wonder if you love him enough to stay with him!" The feelings that flowed through her at that thought were as excruciatingly beautiful as they were terrifying. Still, the fear of rejection stabbed at Dany. She'd been rejected so many times that it was almost impossible to say yes to Ma Ling's request and put herself on the firing line one last time. If ever Dany had felt as if a rifle were being aimed at her at close range, it was now. Only this time the risk involved Gib-the only man she'd ever truly loved. Bowing her head, completely gutted of strength, Dany whispered, "Yes, I'll go see him."

Gib was angry and unhappy. He hated the light green room, the medical equipment, the boredom. Absently he gathered the bedspread in his fingers, clenched it, then released it. Tess had called him this morning to tell him she'd spoken to Ma Ling, who had promised to give the message to Dany. Would Dany come? It was only a three-hour flight to Saigon, and now it was 2000, the end of visiting hours. He'd so desperately wanted to see the door open and Dany appear. In another half hour the nurse would come in and give him a

sleeping pill, and he'd be out for twelve hours straight. What if Dany came during that time? Would she stay? Leave? What if he didn't have a chanceThe door to his room slowly opened. Gib's eyes slitted. No... it couldn't be. Dany? He gripped the bed sheet convulsively. Dany! As she silently slipped through the door, Gib's heart somersaulted with unparalleled joy, then shrank in abject terror. He broke out in a heavy sweat, unable to accurately read Dany's features. She wore a pale lavender ao dai with white silk pants, white sandals on her small feet. Her black hair was loose and fell across her shoulders. It was the darkness and hesitancy Gib saw in her huge green eyes that sent alarm through him. She stood nervously by the closed door, her hands gripping a small white purse in front of her, held like a shield to protect her-from him? His voice cracked. "You came." Dany forced herself to look into Gib's pale, sweaty features. His eyes were dark with suffering that had to be constant. Her gaze swept from his harshly lined face to the swath of bandages that encased his leg. Tears stung her eyes-tears of compassion for him as well as of joy at seeing him. Dany quickly fought them back. Gib would interpret her tears as pity. "I..." Her voice faltered. "Tess called this morning and-and Ma Ling said I should come and see you." Stumbling on, afraid he was going to yell at her again, she whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't call first. If this is an inconvenient time, I can-" "No! Please don't go." Dany closed her mouth and stared at him, the force of his words carrying so much emotional weight that she reeled internally from their effect. She saw Gib wrestling with inner demons. Did he hate her? Was she making his life complicated by coming? Gib felt the sweet, raw torture of wanting to open his arms to Dany, to crush her in a hard embrace so she'd never want to leave him again. His mouth dry, he glanced down at his injured leg. "What I mean is, I'm glad you came." His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he thought he might die. Forcing himself to meet her lustrous gaze, he said, "Please... sit down." Dany forced herself to move, feeling light-headed, her legs like wooden extensions, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. It wasn't until she sat down that faintness rimmed her vision. Was it relief that Gib hadn't sent her away yet? She placed her trembling hands on the purse on her lap. Just one look into his shadowed eyes, and her heart automatically reached out to Gib. "You must be in constant pain," she offered hesitantly, not sure he wanted to discuss the loss of the limb. With a shrug, Gib rasped, "Some things you live with." He motioned to his leg. "This is a pain I can tolerate." What he could never live without was Dany. "Do you have to take pain pills?" Gib nodded. "I don't like drugs, but right now I have to take them whether I want them or not." Desperately he wanted Dany to relax. If he could catch a glimpse of her old self... Her face had a pallor to it, and her left arm was still encased in a bandage. "How are you doing, honey?" he asked gently.

Honey. Relief fractured through Dany, and suddenly she felt light-headed again. The way the endearment rolled off his lips and embraced her was like sun striking a cold, frozen land. "I'm surviving." "Your home? The last I remember, it was on fire." "It's gone." "Everything?" "Yes." Gib ached to hold her. The loss, the depth of her abandonment, was in her eyes. Gib closed his own eyes. "I'm sorry, Dany. So damned sorry it happened this way. You didn't deserve to lose everything." Unconsciously, her hand rested against her belly. Gathering what little strength she'd found on the flight down to Saigon, Dany whispered, "Gib, why did you want to see me?" He saw the terror in her face and heard it in her voice. She sat tensely in the chair, as if waiting for him to strike out at her, dealing some kind of emotional blow. "I wanted you to know I didn't send you away." Her eyes rounded. "Dany, as much as I can piece this together, I was out of my head with drugs when you visited me that first time in ICU. Dr. Froelich had come in and told me I'd lost part of my leg, and I was in shock and denial over it." He released a ragged sigh. "And then, you came in. I was semiconscious, but I don't think you knew that. I was re-experiencing the helicopter crash when you appeared in the middle of the flashback. I saw you superimposed on it. All I could think of was for you to get away before my gun-ship crashed and exploded. I was yelling at you to get away so you wouldn't get hurt in the crash." Dany felt the blood drain from her face. "Then... you weren't really telling me to go away?" "No. My God, no, Dany. Not you, of all people." Gib wondered if Dany was going to faint, she looked so waxen. All Dany could do was cling to Gib's words, his admission that he hadn't wanted her to leave. Hope rekindled in her heart for the first time. The silence deepened, and she saw how nervous Gib had become, his fingers gripping and releasing the blankets that covered him. "Dany," he rasped, holding her gaze, "you mean more to me than anyone I've ever known." Suffering deeply, Gib hesitated, so afraid she would spurn him if he spoke the words that wanted to rip from his mouth. As a cripple, what could he offer her? Dany didn't move, terrified to ask what his statement meant. Gib hadn't said he loved her. She lowered her lashes. Gib tried to read her features. Her hand was held protectively against her belly, and it struck Gib that she was holding herself in a protective position. Against what? Him? The unknown future? More than likely. He

stretched his hand toward her. "Come here," he whispered thickly. "Come and stand by me." The words unstrung Dany, released her from the prison of her own fear of ultimate rejection. Stand by me. Jerkily, she got to her feet, leaving her purse on the chair. She walked forward in a daze of fear. Slowly, she lifted her hand. The instant Gib's fingers captured hers, she released an inaudible gasp. Almost hesitantly, she moved closer. His fingers were hot, almost feverish, and she could see the anxiety deep in his eyes. His mouth dry, Gib rasped, "When I regained full consciousness after you'd left, all I wanted to do was hold you and love you, Dany." His mouth pulled into a sad grimace. "And my next thought was that I wasn't whole. I'm not a complete man anymore. I thought you might have run away from me because you were disgusted by my stump-by me." A little cry escaped Dany, and she laid her hand on his chest. She could feel the heavy, hard beat of his heart beneath her palm. "How could I ever be disgusted by you?" she whispered unsteadily. Gib absorbed her words and reached up with his hand to the two tears trailing down her cheeks. "I'm crippled for life, Dany." With a little shrug, she closed her eyes as his fingers trembled against her flesh. His touch alone was so stabilizing, so healing to her bleeding heart. "As far as I'm concerned, we're all walking wounded of one sort or another. It doesn't matter to me. Don't you understand?" Gib was beginning to. "I was afraid..." She sniffed. "Don't you remember what I told you?" Slowly, Gib shook his head, drowning in the dark forest color of her eyes. Tears beaded on her thick black lashes, and he ached to kiss them away. "No. What did you say, honey?" His slight pressure on her hand gave her the courage to speak. "I-I said that it didn't matter whether you lost your leg or not. That-that I loved you, regardless." Gib froze, his eyes holding her tearful gaze captive. "You what?" Had he heard right? Dany loved him? He was afraid to believe his ears, the words fragments of whispers escaping from her trembling lips. Time halted, and Dany tried to prepare herself for his reaction. Hadn't Gib heard her admission? Why was he looking at her with that sudden intensity? "I said...I loved you." There, the words were out. Breath jammed in Dany's throat. What would Gib do with her love now that he knew it existed? With a groan, Gib reached up and swept her into his arms. "Sweet, beautiful woman," he whispered raggedly, drawing her down across him and holding her so tightly he was afraid he might crush her. When he felt Dany's arm slip behind his neck and hold him just as tightly, he sighed. "I love you. I've loved you from the first time I saw you, Dany. And God help me, through these months, what we share has kept me going." Gib opened his eyes, tears leaking from the corners of them as he gently stroked her unbound hair. He felt her sob, her face buried against him. "I

felt as if my heart had been ripped from my soul when I found out you'd left the hospital." Easing away, Dany quavered, "I'm sorry, Gib." "Never be sorry, honey. Come here, let me kiss you." He slid his hand beneath her chin and guided her wet, tear-bathed lips to his. The instant his mouth glided along her own, all the suffering, all the agony he'd carried for those hellish days and nights dissolved beneath the sweet, moist mouth hungrily returning his kiss. All the love he'd never spoken about went into his tender exploration of her lips as they parted and allowed him entrance. Gib inhaled her wonderful, fragrant scent amid the terrible hospital odors. Dany was alive, warm and like melting honey in his arms, her mouth searching, her breath a ragged symphony with his own. Finally, he eased back and looked into her emerald eyes-eyes filled with love for him alone. "I love you," he rasped. "Don't ever forget that, Dany. Not for one second, one minute, hour or day." Sniffing, Dany eased away just enough to see his face and drown in the brilliant green, gold and brown of his eyes. She'd never seen a man cry before, but she did now, and it tore her heart wide open. "There's so much to tell you, Gib, to share with you. And I'm scared, scared to death where to begin." Cupping her cheek, Gib whispered, "My love for you will never change, Dany. No matter what you tell me, or what's happened, we can handle it-together." Drawing in a painful breath, Dany absorbed his warmth and love. It gave her the necessary courage. Her voice came out low and broken. "When I ran away-and I did, Gib- I was hysterical. Part of it was because of losing my home, losing everything I've ever known. I could have stood that if I'd had you, but at the time, I didn't." She touched his hand and he instantly gripped her fingers. "I loved you. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you running down the driveway toward me after my mother was killed. You were so strong, so sure and capable when I felt like I was none of those things. At first I was wary of you because you were an American. And later, as I realized how I felt, I was afraid you were like the other GIs." Gib nodded. "That's been our largest hurdle-the GI image." "I was such a coward about it, Gib. Look how I've hurt you...myself..." "You're many things, Dany, but not a coward," he told her roughly. "A coward wouldn't have carved out a neutrality between so many enemy forces. A coward wouldn't have fought for her land when it was going to be stolen from beneath her. A coward wouldn't have taken her people out of harm's way and then stood her ground when the attack came." He inhaled brokenly, aching for Dany, for her warped perception of herself. She didn't realize how much she'd accomplished alone and unaided in her lifetime. Gib promised her silently that if she would stay, if she wouldn't run from him again, he'd show her just how unique and wonderful she really was. "Well-" Dany sniffed, wiping her eyes "-I felt like a coward. I loved you and left. I didn't trust you enough to stay." "You left because you thought I didn't want you anymore," he told her huskily, threading his fingers through her hair. "If you'd known differently, Dany, they'd have had to fight you to keep you away."

She managed a small smile. "That's true." "You did what you had to do to survive, honey." He pressed a kiss to her temple. Taking in a ragged breath, Dany held his narrowed gaze, burning with love for her alone. "There's one more thing, Gib. One more..." Her voice trailed off. Worriedly, he framed her face with his hands. "What's wrong?" he demanded, fear starting to pound through him. She managed a slight grimace. "Not what's wrong- what's right." Puzzled, he reached upward and kissed her compressed lips. There was such anxiety in Dany's eyes. "Just tell me, honey. I told you before, I love you. We'll handle whatever it is together. Are you sick or something?" She shook her head. "No, not sick." When she saw Gib's eyes turn a dark golden color, as they had when he'd loved her that night and the morning after, Dany found the courage she'd been seeking. The words slipped reverently from her lips. "I'm pregnant, Gib. I'm nearly three months along. It happened when we made love at the hotel in Saigon." Gib lay stunned. Dany's face was translucent, almost Madonna-like. Her eyes were huge and luminous, her lips parted, as if silently pleading with him not to reject her because of the baby she carried. How could he? His fingers tightened on her face and then he released her. For an instant he saw terror enter her eyes. "Come here," he quavered, and swept her into his arms, crushing her against him. Burying his face in the thick black silk of her hair, he held her for a long, long time, just savoring her nearness and absorbing her admission. "You're going to have our baby. Oh, God, Dany, I love you. I love both of you so much." He kissed her hair, temple, cheek and, finally, her mouth. A moan of surrender, of love, welled up through Dany as she felt his strong mouth capture hers. He kissed her with such touching hunger that she responded effortlessly, drinking deeply from his proffered love. Breathing raggedly, she couldn't get enough of him, of his mouth, the taste of him, the smell of him. His hands, trembling, explored her as if she were some fragile, exquisite vessel that could break at any moment. The joy that swept through her, the realization that he was euphoric over the idea of the baby, made Dany feel faint with relief. Gradually, they eased apart. Dany saw the happiness in Gib's hooded eyes. "Boy or girl?" he wanted to know, kissing her lush, wet lips. "I feel like it's a girl," Dany whispered, smiling into his eyes. "Sure?" "I just have this feeling." "Women are good with intuition." He smiled unsteadily, tears in his eyes. "I love little girls." "Oh, I'm so glad! I thought...maybe you'd want a son first...."

Gib sighed and gently stroked her flushed cheek. "I don't care if it's a boy or girl, honey." He shook his head in stunned amazement. "Wait until my family hears about this. Tess will go crazy. She's been ragging on at me to get married, settle down and have a brood of kids. She's kid crazy, you know." Dany gently touched Gib's cheek. "I want lots of children, too. I'm just like Tess." His smile grew. "Marry me, Dany." "When?" "Now. We'll get Dr. Froelich to hunt up a preacher for us. We'll be married right here." He caressed her hair. "I don't want another minute to go by without you knowing that I'm never going to abandon you, Dany. You or our baby. Understand?" Joy shimmered through Dany as she absorbed his words. "Yes... I understand." "Never again will you be alone, honey. Pretty soon, they'll transfer me stateside, and you're coming with me. We'll both heal together at the Ramsey ranch. You can learn to love the harsh Texas land as much as you loved the land here in Vietnam." She smiled gently and leaned down, kissing him. "Now that I have your love, the land isn't that hard to leave behind, Gib. Isn't that odd?" He shook his head, contentment overwhelming him, taking away his pain. "Not odd at all. The love you had wasn't ever returned by your parents, Dany. Ma Ling loved you, thank God. She was your only lifeline in that sense. All that love in you, you turned into a positive-loving the land, because it gave back to you. The land was the only constant that never played games with your heart. It was the only thing that was as loyal as you were. That's why you couldn't sell the plantation." "And if I'd realized you loved me, that you weren't going to abandon me, I'd probably have sold it," Dany whispered, understanding as never before how she had, in an unconscious way, connected with the land like it was a pseudomother. "That's right." Tiredness swept through Gib after the months of strain and tension. "At least there's one happy ending in all of this-we had the courage to admit our love for one another through some hellish odds." "There aren't many moments of true glory in a wartime situation," Dany agreed softly. Pulling Dany against him, he closed his eyes and sighed. "This is all I need, you beside me." Gib knew his life was going to be rocky because of his lost limb. But then, he reminded himself as Dany stroked his cheek, they had stood by each other through the terrible storm of war, carnage and destruction, and had emerged wounded, but victorious. Their reward for facing such personal and overwhelming odds was each other. Forever.