Running Fire. Lindsay McKenna
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awake or sleep. No. He desperately needed some more sleep.
“Sure,” Leah said. She watched Kell open the ruck. He pulled out a penlight. And then he got up on one knee, his large hand engulfing the right side of her face as he cradled her jaw. He leaned forward, maybe six inches between them.
“Just look at my nose,” he instructed. “I’m going to pass the light from one eye to the other. If all goes well, your eyes should dilate equally.”
Her cheek prickled with heat, his fingers rough, but somehow, incredibly gentle. Hayden had never touched her like that. Not ever. All he knew how to be toward her was rough and hurtful.
Leah kept her eyes trained on Kell’s intent face. He passed the light slowly from right to left. And then back again.
“You’re good to go,” he murmured, pleased, as he switched off the light. Kell wanted to keep his hand on her jaw. God help him, but he wanted to kiss Leah senseless. That mouth of hers, full, exquisitely shaped, was wreaking hell on his sense of control. Forcing himself to break contact with her, Kell leaned over and rummaged around for a syringe and another bottle. He put just enough morphine in it to dull pain while still keeping Leah alert, not sleepy.
Rubbing her upper arm with an alcohol wipe, he gave her the shot. “There, you’re going to feel a whole lot more perky in about ten minutes.” He gave her a warm smile and sat back down, putting the medical items back where they belonged.
“Thanks,” Leah whispered. “How did you know I was in pain?”
Shrugging, Kell murmured as he closed the ruck. “I sense it, I guess. Taken care of a number of my SEAL buddies in my platoon over the past nine years. I don’t know if I’m seeing it or feeling it. SEALs usually hide their pain, so I’d have to say it’s probably my gut instinct telling me.”
“Something I’m sure all you SEALs have in spades,” Leah said, watching the grace of his long fingers. Kell was boneless, she decided. Ruggedly handsome, in top athletic shape and very kind. That wasn’t the picture of a SEAL she’d expected. But then, Leah didn’t have that much contact with them, except to pick up and drop off teams. There was no time for chit-chat when that was happening. She saw he was tired.
“Maybe we could sleep for a while longer? I don’t know what your plan is for me.”
Lifting his head, Kell said, “We’ve got a whopping amount of Taliban all around us right now. They’re starting a push through the border area. My master chief said for us to sit tight if possible. It might take us days or maybe a week to get picked up. Either that, or try walking back into Bravo, which would be very dangerous.”
Staring at him like he’d grown two heads, Leah said, “What?” No rescue coming?
“We’re sandwiched in,” Kell explained, his voice becoming serious. “Master chief knows I know these mountains and caves better than anyone. And I was on a sniper op, waiting for an HVT when your crash occurred. He wants me to stick around to try to nail the HVT, and I want too, also.”
“Okay,” she said, understanding.
“You’ll be safe here,” Kell assured her. “And you aren’t in any serious medical condition, so the plan changed a bit. I need to take care of you, which I will, but I also have to nail that HVT. I’ve been sitting out here three weeks waiting for him.” He smiled a little. “What’s one more week? Besides, with that head injury of yours, the flight surgeon will put you on medical waiver for at least two to three weeks. You won’t be able to fly, anyway. Consider this a vacation of sorts.”
All that was true. Even now the pain was easing in her head and for that Leah was grateful to Kell, for his care and continued thoughtfulness. She had a deep, scary feeling that her entire life had just changed, but she couldn’t predict the outcome of it, or understand the challenges that would come with it as a result. Yet...
“ARE YOU HUNGRY?” Kell asked her. Leah looked pensive after he’d given her a seven-day sentence of remaining in this cave with him.
Rubbing her stomach, she said, “I think so. Not sure...”
“Shock,” he murmured. He pulled out a bottle of water and opened it for her. “Keep drinking all the fluids you can. I know you’re close to dehydration.”
Her fingers touched his. Leah was starved for Kell’s touch. Since when did she ever entertain the idea of any man ever touching her again? Hayden had cured her of that. Yet, she trusted Kell. And why shouldn’t she? She’d be dead now if not for his intervention. His heroism under fire, hauling her sorry ass out of that deadly situation, deserved a medal in her book.
Leah drank deeply. How did Kell know she was near dehydration? Was the man a mind reader? Was it his large, thoughtful-looking gray eyes that gleamed with intelligence? The natural kindness that glowed in their depths?
She watched Kell get up and, with lanky strides, leave the cave, make a right turn and disappear down a tunnel.
Realizing there was more light in the cave, Leah looked up. Just above her was a huge hole in the cave wall. And it was filtering in dawn light. Leah felt a sense of relief after the overwhelming blackness. Kell returned with some items in his large hands.
“Breakfast,” he said, opening up an MRE and setting it in her lap. “You need to eat whether you feel like it or not. This cave is about as safe as it gets, but it’s never totally safe. Today, I need you to eat, drink and sleep.”
He was all business now. Leah could see he had a mental checklist of things he had to do. After all, he was a sniper. And he had other fish to fry besides babysitting her. Lamenting the loss of his warmth and attention, Leah set the half-emptied water bottle beside her. “Thanks,” she said.
Kell watched her mouth tighten. It was her left arm. “Tell you what,” he said, rising and moving to his ruck. “I’m going to fashion you a sling so you can get that arm parallel to your body. The more the arm hangs down, the more blood collects in the lower part of it, which makes for a lot more pain and swelling.” He opened the ruck and pulled out a sealed plastic bag that contained a dark green triangular cotton cloth folded up in it.
Leah watched him, mesmerized by his grace, those long fingers of his quick to fashion a triangle out of the light cotton fabric. He knelt down on one knee, gently placing the sling beneath her left forearm. His face was inches from hers as he brought the ends up and quickly tied them behind the nape of her neck. He smelled of sweat, dirt and male. It did something internally to Leah; as if some primitive part of her were responding to his nearness, her body reacting to his earthy male scent. Something she’d never noticed with another man before.
“There,” Kell murmured, looking pleased with his efforts. “How does your arm feel now, Leah?”
She felt her heart open just a crack as her name rolled softly from his lips. It sounded like a prayer. A beautiful prayer. “I-it feels good, Kell.” She looked up into his hooded eyes and gave him a grateful look. “I feel spoiled, to tell you the truth. You’ve taken such good care of me. Thank you...”
He gave her a lazy smile. “Medics are like that,” he drawled, easing to his feet, shutting up the ruck and then sitting down near her. He opened the MRE for her and warmed the food in the heating pouch.
“I’ve never been on the receiving end of a combat medic before,” Leah admitted. Now, with her arm in a sling, she only had one good hand and found herself fumbling with the other packets.
The next moment, Kell was kneeling next to her, his knee nearly touching her thigh. It happened so fast, so silently, that Leah began to realize what SEAL meant. The man moved like a shadow. She’d been focused on trying to open the packet of food, distracted, and he’d just shown up like magic at her side.
“Let me do that,” he murmured, taking the bag. He tore it open, looked at the rest of the MRE and got everything open