huge mountain to the south. His neck prickled with warning. Khogani was up there. He was sure. Watching them? Probably. Turning, he asked, “What are you doing out here?”
“Working with Hamid and the elders. They wanted to know if they could improve their irrigation techniques.” She pointed to the fields. “You see how hard they work to get that water down into each of those rows?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his chin and studying the problem. Morgan was a civil engineer, which had been her major at Annapolis. It was evident how good she was at it. “Do you have a plan?”
“I think so,” she said, enjoying the moment with him. She pointed along the parallel edge of the long field that was at least a football field in length. “I was telling Hamid if we could get some guys out here to dig another ditch, create a second channel for this river water, that they would have water coming in both ends of every row. That way, when they pulled up the wooden gates to allow water into the fields, it would irrigate twice as fast with a lot less work for the men.”
“I’m impressed,” Jake said, catching her gaze. Her eyes grew warm over his compliment. This morning, Morgan wore the boonie hat that all SEALs wore on an op. She had her SIG riding low on her right thigh, her H-gear on and a shovel in her left hand. The M-4 wasn’t far away from her reach.
“You like the idea?”
“Yeah. It should work.”
Hamid tapped Jake on the shoulder. Jake turned to the elder.
“You need to consider her for a wife, Sahib Ramsey.”
Morgan’s mouth dropped open, and she stared disbelievingly at Hamid, who usually said little. And then she shifted her glance toward Jake. His mouth was still open, too. Laughing, she said, “Hamid, we do things a little different in America. Women aren’t assigned a husband to marry. We choose who we want to marry.”
Hamid smiled a little, stroking his long, well-kept beard. “If you lived here, I would order you to marry this fine man. He would be a good husband for you, Wajiha. He’s strong.” Hamid pointed to Jake’s upper arms beneath his cammie sleeves. “And he has a good heart. What else could you want?”
Hiding her smile, Morgan knew Hamid was giving them high praise. “My Lord Hamid, you are too generous and kind with your praise.”
“Then you will consider my words?”
She gave Hamid a teasing look. “You’re a wily wolf, my lord. I will give it thought.” But nothing more. Jake appeared like a deer frozen in oncoming headlights. Despite his growing beard darkening his face, he was still ruggedly handsome, virile, and appealed to her on every level. Wily Hamid had sensed or seen their connection and camaraderie. Or maybe he saw something neither of them did? That last thought scared the hell out of Morgan.
Hamid grinned beneath his beard and bowed toward her. “You are a fine, fine woman, Wajiha. Any man would be proud to have you as his wife.”
Jake swallowed and struggled to hide his unease. “My lord,” he said, trying to remain serious, “Wajiha is her own woman. She chooses who touches her heart. I’m not that man.” He wanted to be, but he’d screwed his chances up a long time ago.
Hamid nodded. “That is a pity, Sahib Ramsey. You are a fine leader.”
Jake thanked him. He was desperate to get Hamid off the topic. Even worse, Morgan seemed to enjoy his discomfort. So he picked up a shovel. “Morgan, why don’t you go measure the length of the ditch so we can start digging it?”
“Easy enough to do,” she answered. Pushing her shovel into the ground, she picked up a coil of nearby rope.
One of the younger sons of the elders came up and asked if he could help. Morgan said yes and sent him down the field with her holding the other end of the thick rope. In no time, they had a perfect line to build the new ditch. Once the line was created with a bunch of rocks, Morgan came back and picked up the shovel. Wearing Kevlar always made one sweat
“Working with Hamid and the elders. They wanted to know if they could improve their irrigation techniques.” She pointed to the fields. “You see how hard they work to get that water down into each of those rows?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his chin and studying the problem. Morgan was a civil engineer, which had been her major at Annapolis. It was evident how good she was at it. “Do you have a plan?”
“I think so,” she said, enjoying the moment with him. She pointed along the parallel edge of the long field that was at least a football field in length. “I was telling Hamid if we could get some guys out here to dig another ditch, create a second channel for this river water, that they would have water coming in both ends of every row. That way, when they pulled up the wooden gates to allow water into the fields, it would irrigate twice as fast with a lot less work for the men.”
“I’m impressed,” Jake said, catching her gaze. Her eyes grew warm over his compliment. This morning, Morgan wore the boonie hat that all SEALs wore on an op. She had her SIG riding low on her right thigh, her H-gear on and a shovel in her left hand. The M-4 wasn’t far away from her reach.
“You like the idea?”
“Yeah. It should work.”
Hamid tapped Jake on the shoulder. Jake turned to the elder.
“You need to consider her for a wife, Sahib Ramsey.”
Morgan’s mouth dropped open, and she stared disbelievingly at Hamid, who usually said little. And then she shifted her glance toward Jake. His mouth was still open, too. Laughing, she said, “Hamid, we do things a little different in America. Women aren’t assigned a husband to marry. We choose who we want to marry.”
Hamid smiled a little, stroking his long, well-kept beard. “If you lived here, I would order you to marry this fine man. He would be a good husband for you, Wajiha. He’s strong.” Hamid pointed to Jake’s upper arms beneath his cammie sleeves. “And he has a good heart. What else could you want?”
Hiding her smile, Morgan knew Hamid was giving them high praise. “My Lord Hamid, you are too generous and kind with your praise.”
“Then you will consider my words?”
She gave Hamid a teasing look. “You’re a wily wolf, my lord. I will give it thought.” But nothing more. Jake appeared like a deer frozen in oncoming headlights. Despite his growing beard darkening his face, he was still ruggedly handsome, virile, and appealed to her on every level. Wily Hamid had sensed or seen their connection and camaraderie. Or maybe he saw something neither of them did? That last thought scared the hell out of Morgan.
Hamid grinned beneath his beard and bowed toward her. “You are a fine, fine woman, Wajiha. Any man would be proud to have you as his wife.”
Jake swallowed and struggled to hide his unease. “My lord,” he said, trying to remain serious, “Wajiha is her own woman. She chooses who touches her heart. I’m not that man.” He wanted to be, but he’d screwed his chances up a long time ago.
Hamid nodded. “That is a pity, Sahib Ramsey. You are a fine leader.”
Jake thanked him. He was desperate to get Hamid off the topic. Even worse, Morgan seemed to enjoy his discomfort. So he picked up a shovel. “Morgan, why don’t you go measure the length of the ditch so we can start digging it?”
“Easy enough to do,” she answered. Pushing her shovel into the ground, she picked up a coil of nearby rope.
One of the younger sons of the elders came up and asked if he could help. Morgan said yes and sent him down the field with her holding the other end of the thick rope. In no time, they had a perfect line to build the new ditch. Once the line was created with a bunch of rocks, Morgan came back and picked up the shovel. Wearing Kevlar always made one sweat
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