Yeah, weather phenomenon that had them trapped here together, yet her in no condition to do much about it. What rotten luck.
Christmas.
Bah humbug again.
"I know, but, when will the helicopter come back?"
"They'll be here ASAP with the first weather clearance. You can always count on the paratroopers, Captain. You know our motto-"
"That others may live,” she interrupted, because now she knew it was true. She'd been turned off by so many cocky jocks in her past that she suddenly realized she'd built up some kind of falsehood about them in her mind.
They were all not like her father. These were brave guys who thought of others first. Daddy never thought of anyone else first other than himself.
"Right, Captain. But to survive, one never can become complacent. That'd be contrary thinking to survival.” Didn't he realize he was talking to a ‘worse case scenario thinker'? If something could go wrong, Prue always thought it would. Complacency wasn't in her vocabulary-as it must not be in his.
Nice.
"Now, if you need to stretch, go ahead. But we need to stay put so we can be found. No traveling except for sustenance, which, I'm glad to say, I thought to bring. I've signaled with the fire going and my guys know where we are anyway. I'm sure you learned the basic five needs of a survivor in flight school.” He busied himself trying to communicate with the base in his assumption about her.
She merely nodded, almost ashamed to say she never applied to be a flight nurse because she wasn't all that crazy about flying.
After all, look where the helo trip had gotten her!
Chapter Seven
Sustenance he'd called it.
Prue called it cat food. That was her take on the Air Force's version of gourmet brown pouch food. Ick. Okay. Okay. It wasn't too bad. Well, it was when she thought about a Christmas ham, turkey, and her mom's gravy. The taste took a nosedive.
She heard a laugh and looked up.
Slick sat across the blanket he'd laid out for their ‘holiday feast’ as he'd called it, laughing at her. Earlier he'd assured her that they could eat their rations and not some cactus because they'd be picked up soon. He'd been a purposeful drop to a known location. All would be okay. With the cover blocking the dust and wind from their food, he'd become a silhouette against the backdrop-and a fantasy in her mind.
Calm down, girl. Calm down.
"I know it's not prime rib, Captain, but it isn't that bad."
"I didn't say it was.” She tried to lick the fork off, but couldn't stomach the taste any longer. And here she'd heard the Air Force had come a long way in their field rations. Not in her book.
He laughed again. Great laugh. Masculine, yet held the humor.
"I wish you could see yourself in a mirror. Your face is priceless when you swallow."
He continued to laugh, so she poked at him. “Stop it. It's just that we in the Medical Corps aren't accustomed to eating out of brown pouches, i.e. survival food. We dine in the cafeteria and eat off real dishes and use real meat and not something that bubbles up when you add water.” She joined him in a laugh and it felt rather good.
Then she felt a twinge of pain in her shoulder and looked around.
She could be dead by now if it wasn't for Kodyn Lang.
"Kody, did you find out anything about the mom and helicopter that… the one I was on…"
Obviously he sensed her concern and brushed away her words with his. “Fine. They made it to McNally in time. Sorry I forgot to tell you that. I should have known you'd think about them."
"The baby was-"
"Tiny but stable is how they put it. Bumpy chopper ride and the helo jock is sick that he lost you out the door, but all in all it turned out okay. And for once, no one got fired over an incident. A okay."
Okay?
Here she was on Christmas Day, wounded without action, dirty, wearing the desert floor on her entire body-except where he'd washed her face-and eating something unidentifiable although admittedly she was glad it wasn't boiled cacti. Obviously they had a different meaning for the word okay.
"I'm so glad. In all my pain, I forgot to ask."
He touched her hand. “But you did. And, hey, cut yourself some slack, Captain. It's understandable. You nurses are all alike. Always thinking of others before yourself."
She nodded and set her food container on the blanket. Just like you.
"Tired?” He looked concerned and set his pouch next to hers. “Pain?"
"Actually, no. I'm okay right now. It's just…” She had to turn away. Tears burned in her eyes, and darned if she'd admit the sudden feeling of homesickness, loss of her family unit, and the need to have him hold her.
That, being the strongest need at the moment.
Before she could take a deep breath and turn around, his arms were on her uninjured shoulder and with the gentlest of pressure, turning her to meet his gaze.
Eye to eye.
Of course, even sitting, she had to lift her head upward, but with a bit of coaxing from his finger beneath her chin, she did.
And then the fall, the pain, the dust all seemed a distant memory. Because, for right now, his lips on hers was the only thing going on in the world. At least in her world.
And that made everything all right within her entire universe.
His lips were soft. Tender. Delicious without having any after-effects from the brown pouch dining.
Tender?
What had she expected? Grit like sandpaper? Had she really lumped all “jock-type” guys into one category and now was surprised that one could be soft, be tender?
Had her past jaded her present and her future?
Slick ran his hands beneath her hair, pushing it back behind her ears, where he leaned over and nuzzled for a few minutes. A few mere minutes. Lord how she wished it were longer!
When he looked into her eyes, all she could do was smile back. And so did he. Then he eased her closer and held her. Just held her for what seemed like hours.
Too soon he eased free enough to ask, “You all right?"
"Um."
"Drat!"
"What is it?"
"When I'd heard the call about you, I forgot to grab something. I'd had it in my locker at the squadron, but, damn it all."
Boy did he know how to pique a girl's interest. “What? What on earth do you have in your locker for me?"
Suddenly they were laughing amid feathery kisses as he teased her, but wouldn't tell her. All the stocking stuffers in the world couldn't match the feeling.
Finally he looked at her. “A box of Godiva."
"Chocolate,” she whispered, as if he'd said a treasure chest full of gold.
"Yeah. Crud. Would have made a great Christmas dessert."
She nodded and reached into her pocket. Please let it be there.
His eyes glistened and the laughter filled their little world when she pulled out a mangled, very melted chocolate bar.
"Oh, crud. Seems as if my mishap has taken its toll on the chocolate bar. “
"Give me,” he said, and soon the bar had redeemed itself as Slick touched the mostly melted delicacy and placed his finger near her lips.
She licked it off, amazed at how sensual melted chocolate could be in the right place and the right time and with… the right guy.
"Yum. He smiled, repeated the gesture over and over, going from his lips to hers until an empty wrapper sat in his hand.
Prue leaned over and kissed him.
Very faintly in the distance, the whirr of chopper blades cracked the daylight air. The dust devils had retreated and she'd never even noticed.
Outside their lean-to the New Mexico sun cast golden rays across the grease bushes, mountains, and the cluster of Saguaro that stood for hundreds of years of beauty.
Her heart sank at the sound of her rescuers.
Because, right now, her only rescuer sat across from her with a look on his face that seemed to match what she felt inside.
If only they'd had a bit more time together.