Protecting His Own. Lindsay McKenna

his. Moving quickly away from him, she headed toward a male marine lieutenant and a woman in a deputy’s uniform beside him, who looked like the leaders of the group.

      “Dr. Andrews?”

      Sam halted in front of the marine, who was dressed similarly to Gunnison and his team. “Yes, that’s me.”

      He smiled. “I’m Lieutenant Quinn Grayson. Welcome to area 5.” He saluted her.

      Sam returned the salute. “Thanks, Lieutenant.” She turned her attention to the woman at his side. “And you must be Deputy Chelton?”

      “Yes, I am, Doctor. Call me Kerry. We don’t stand on formality around here,” she replied, as she offered her hand.

      Sam instantly liked the young woman. “Me, either. Call me Sam,” she said, shaking her hand warmly.

      “Thanks, I will. We’re here to help you all we can.” She looked up at Grayson. “The lieutenant will take you to your tents. They just came in yesterday, and have been erected near ours. We’re looking like a tent city at this point.” Rubbing her hands together, Kerry added, “I’m sure you’re just as cold as we are. Winter mornings can be chilly even in Southern California. We’ve got hot coffee, hot chocolate and a warm stove waiting for you over at our main tent, which is where we plot and plan for area 5.”

      “Great!” Sam exclaimed. “I’m freezing. The hot coffee sounds too good to be true.” She turned to her team. “Ready?”

      They chorused in agreement, their smiles eager.

      Sam saw Gunnison remaining behind with his men and the loadmaster on the flight. Frowning, she said, “Kerry, can you take my team over there? I’ve got to coordinate the off-loading of our supplies.”

      “I can help,” Lieutenant Grayson said, stepping forward. “Let me direct them, ma’am. You go get warm with your team. Kerry will show you where you’re going.”

      Sam hesitated. It would be a relief to let Grayson deal with Gunnison and his men. “Okay, Lieutenant, you’ve got a deal. Ask Captain Gunnison to join us when he’s done?”

      Quinn nodded. “Of course, ma’am. It’ll take only a few minutes to get your supplies into our storage tent, which is guarded twenty-four hours a day against theft. I’ll pass on your request to him.”

      Good. Sam turned and smiled at Kerry. She seemed warm and gentle for someone who worked in police enforcement. Noting that Kerry moved slowly and with a limp, Sam came up beside her.

      “Are you okay, Kerry? You’re limping.”

      “I’m fine. I took a bullet in the thigh a while back. Quinn—I mean, Lieutenant Grayson—saved my life. We got into a shootout with the Diablo gang about two miles from here.” She pointed in a northerly direction.

      Sam eyed the younger woman, automatically going into doctor mode. “I see…. Are you in pain?”

      Shrugging, Kerry said, “Sometimes. I take aspirin and that helps a lot.” Then she flashed her a smile. “Lieutenant Grayson just rigged up a bathtub he found and brought to our washroom facility.” She pointed to a tent to their right. “He’s a master at finding stuff and putting it together. When my leg starts aching, I get into a hot bath and sit there for ten minutes, and the pain goes away.”

      “What a creative guy!” Sam exclaimed. “But if your aches get to be too much, you let me know. I got some pain meds with me in that shipment the guys are unloading right now.”

      “I will. Thanks, Doc—I mean, Sam.”

      Sam smiled at her before turning her attention to the huge camouflage-colored tent that loomed before them. Fifteen tents had been erected in three rows. A small American flag flew atop the largest tent, and someone had hand scribbled HQ with a black marker over the top flap, which was shut. Kerry stepped forward and unzipped it, holding the flap open.

      “Come on in. Welcome to HQ for area 5.” She motioned the group inside.

      Sam was the first to duck under the opening and step on to unpainted plywood floor, where her boots thunked hollowly with each footstep. At the opposite end of the tent was a redwood picnic table with a bench on either side. Nearby, an electric heater was throwing out a lot of welcoming warmth. On one side of the tent was a makeshift coffee bar. On top of a half-destroyed buffet counter that someone must have salvaged from the wreckage and brought in was a coffeemaker and a number of ceramic cups, some of them chipped or missing handles. There was a name written in black marker on each one. The coffee smelled fresh and inviting, Sam thought as she stood near the back and watched her team trundle in.

      “Have a seat,” she told them, and gestured to the picnic table.

      Kerry zipped the tent flap shut and turned around. “Our ace hound dog, Private Orvil Perkins, has located about twelve new coffee mugs. If you each tell me your name I’ll write it on your mug and that will be yours while you’re with us.”

      Sam smiled and held her hands toward the electric heater, enjoying the warmth. Outside, she could hear the chugging sound of a generator, which supplied electricity for the heater to work.

      “This is really nice of you, Kerry,” Sam said, as the deputy made her way around the table to the coffee area.

      “Actually, it was Quinn’s—I mean, Lieutenant Grayson’s idea. He knew a couple of days ago that your teams were coming in, so he set to work on trying to make this transition as easy as possible. The one thing he said you would all need is coffee.”

      Applause rose around the table. Sam joined in. There were smiles of delight on every face as Kerry began to ask names and write them on the cups. Sam got into the act by pouring fresh coffee and passing it out to her team. Within minutes, she felt a camaraderie that made her heart swell with pride. Kerry was the epitome of compassion as far as Sam was concerned. She was kind, thoughtful and sensitive—just the sort of person Sam wanted to work with.

      As Sam stood there near the stove and watched her team eagerly drink their coffee and chat with the amiable Kerry Chelton, she felt a strong trickle of hope. She also felt pride that the people of area 5, despite all the devastation, could go to this kind of trouble to try and make her and her team feel welcome. Even in hell there was kindness, she was discovering.

      All her enthusiasm and good feelings plunged, however, when the tent flap opened and Captain Gunnison came in, standing to the side to allow his grim-faced men to enter. Grayson was the last to come in, zipping the door shut behind him.

      At once the energy of the place changed dramatically, making Sam sigh inwardly.

      Grayson did the talking, explaining how things worked to the Recon team. When Gunnison looked up, he settled his gaze briefly on Sam. Her hands tightened around her mug as their eyes met.

      “Your supplies are off-loaded, safe and sound,” he told her gruffly, heading with Grayson toward the coffee dispenser.

      “Good. Thank you, Captain.” Sam cringed inwardly. Her voice was clipped and distant, and hearing it, her entire team lifted their heads as if in unison, collective surprise written on their faces. She sounded so…hard. They never saw this side of her.

      Scowling, Sam sipped the scalding coffee, almost burning her tongue. Damn. At all costs, she had to cover up her dislike of Gunnison. But it wasn’t going to be easy…