like Butterfingers, remember?” Most SEALs had a stash of junk food in their gear that they would bring over with them. She was sure Jake had packages of his favorite candy, Kit Kat, stored away in his third-line gear, his rucksack.
Shrugging, Jake placed his thumbs in the waist belt of his H-gear. The M-4 was slung in a loop across his left shoulder. They went nowhere without weapons. “I know…but it’s the thought that counts,” he teased, seeing the smile in her eyes. Eyes he could get lost in and never return from. Despite the sweat, the dust, her hair coated with it across her shoulders, Morgan was beautiful.
A deep ache began once more in his heart and lower body, like it always did when he was around her. Jake could never logically figure out what his response was all about. And when Morgan’s lips drew into a soft smile, it made him feel powerful and special. Being with her once again was bittersweet. If only he could have a third chance with her. This time, he wouldn’t screw it up because of lack of maturity, misunderstandings and terrible mistakes he’d made.
Halting at Hamid’s house, they would sleep at different levels within Hamid’s home. Women slept with women. Men slept with men. That was Islamic law. Jake would be on the third floor, Morgan on the second.
Tiredness washed over Morgan. “I’m going to see if I can scare up some water and take a spit bath.” She wrinkled her nose and touched her cheek. It felt gritty beneath her fingertips. “See you tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah. This is an upgrade from the goat barn last night.”
Morgan nodded. “Indeed it is, Ramsey. But I didn’t smell any of it….”
“Classic gotcha,” Jake agreed, grinning. And then he sobered. “You keep the radio on, though?” She and Jake had a headset communications with one another. If something happened, he wanted them to be able to talk to her, as well as react immediately as a team.
Hamid had confirmed things had been quiet at the village for the past month. Jake felt they would be very safe within the walls. As a SEAL, he was fully aware that if Khogani’s men wanted to attack, a five-foot wall wasn’t going to stop them. The wall was a psychological state of mind for the villagers as far as he was concerned, not true protection against the bad guys.
“Yes,” Morgan agreed, patting the radio snapped to her H-gear harness on her left shoulder. “See you tomorrow morning.” She lifted her hand and took the steps into the house.
Much to his chagrin, Jake woke up very late the next morning. It was 0800! Sunlight was pouring into the window of the men’s sleeping room. Hurrying through breakfast, he got his gear, rifle and headed outdoors. The morning was coolish as he loped easily down the road.
Hamid was out and about, and Jake stopped a man with a donkey and cart hauling wood to ask if he’d seen Morgan. The farmer told him she was out in the fields with the elders. Hurrying out the gate, Jake saw the village was up and moving. Women were doing washing outside their homes, children were playing, dogs were yapping and most of the men were already in the fields for the day.
Morgan was standing with Hamid and several other elders at a ditch when she spotted Jake coming around the wall of the village. She gestured for him to come join them. After giving the Pashto greetings to the elders, he came to Morgan’s side.
“Good morning,” she murmured. “You overslept, Ramsey. I didn’t have the heart to wake you at 0530 like you wanted.”
Scowling, he said, “You should have.” When he looked around, Jake saw at least fifty men in the fields, hoeing, picking out weeds or guiding the water from the river down a ditch into the narrow rows to water the corn, beans and other vegetables.
“It’s one of the few times you can sleep in. No harm, no foul. I contacted Captain Shaheen and they’ll be here in about an hour with two medical teams.”
“Good,” Jake said, staring up at the
Shrugging, Jake placed his thumbs in the waist belt of his H-gear. The M-4 was slung in a loop across his left shoulder. They went nowhere without weapons. “I know…but it’s the thought that counts,” he teased, seeing the smile in her eyes. Eyes he could get lost in and never return from. Despite the sweat, the dust, her hair coated with it across her shoulders, Morgan was beautiful.
A deep ache began once more in his heart and lower body, like it always did when he was around her. Jake could never logically figure out what his response was all about. And when Morgan’s lips drew into a soft smile, it made him feel powerful and special. Being with her once again was bittersweet. If only he could have a third chance with her. This time, he wouldn’t screw it up because of lack of maturity, misunderstandings and terrible mistakes he’d made.
Halting at Hamid’s house, they would sleep at different levels within Hamid’s home. Women slept with women. Men slept with men. That was Islamic law. Jake would be on the third floor, Morgan on the second.
Tiredness washed over Morgan. “I’m going to see if I can scare up some water and take a spit bath.” She wrinkled her nose and touched her cheek. It felt gritty beneath her fingertips. “See you tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah. This is an upgrade from the goat barn last night.”
Morgan nodded. “Indeed it is, Ramsey. But I didn’t smell any of it….”
“Classic gotcha,” Jake agreed, grinning. And then he sobered. “You keep the radio on, though?” She and Jake had a headset communications with one another. If something happened, he wanted them to be able to talk to her, as well as react immediately as a team.
Hamid had confirmed things had been quiet at the village for the past month. Jake felt they would be very safe within the walls. As a SEAL, he was fully aware that if Khogani’s men wanted to attack, a five-foot wall wasn’t going to stop them. The wall was a psychological state of mind for the villagers as far as he was concerned, not true protection against the bad guys.
“Yes,” Morgan agreed, patting the radio snapped to her H-gear harness on her left shoulder. “See you tomorrow morning.” She lifted her hand and took the steps into the house.
Much to his chagrin, Jake woke up very late the next morning. It was 0800! Sunlight was pouring into the window of the men’s sleeping room. Hurrying through breakfast, he got his gear, rifle and headed outdoors. The morning was coolish as he loped easily down the road.
Hamid was out and about, and Jake stopped a man with a donkey and cart hauling wood to ask if he’d seen Morgan. The farmer told him she was out in the fields with the elders. Hurrying out the gate, Jake saw the village was up and moving. Women were doing washing outside their homes, children were playing, dogs were yapping and most of the men were already in the fields for the day.
Morgan was standing with Hamid and several other elders at a ditch when she spotted Jake coming around the wall of the village. She gestured for him to come join them. After giving the Pashto greetings to the elders, he came to Morgan’s side.
“Good morning,” she murmured. “You overslept, Ramsey. I didn’t have the heart to wake you at 0530 like you wanted.”
Scowling, he said, “You should have.” When he looked around, Jake saw at least fifty men in the fields, hoeing, picking out weeds or guiding the water from the river down a ditch into the narrow rows to water the corn, beans and other vegetables.
“It’s one of the few times you can sleep in. No harm, no foul. I contacted Captain Shaheen and they’ll be here in about an hour with two medical teams.”
“Good,” Jake said, staring up at the
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