Read Ride the Tiger for Free Online Page B

took a huge, ragged breath. “All I want to do now, Major, is live here in peace. I don’t like the VC, their methods or their political philosophy. Nor do I agree with the South Vietnamese bringing marines from America here.” Stormily, Dany held his gaze. “I want nothing to do with anyone. Is that clear? I don’t condone any political position. My home—our land—is what’s important. That, and the people of my village. I care about human beings and I care about surviving this damned war. It’s like a cancer touching all of us!”
    Her cry seared Gib. Before he realized what he was doing, he’d set aside the report papers and risen to his feet. Dany stood so alone and forlorn. He ached to put his arms around her and protect her in a purely human response to her need. Something cautioned him not to, though, and he halted a foot away from her.
    â€œIn some ways, we have a lot in common. In others, we don’t,” he said in an effort to somehow assuage all the pain he’d brought to bear on her this morning.
    Dany was wildly aware of Gib’s proximity. The urge to fall into his arms increased tenfold until it was an almost tangible, driving thing. She stepped away from him, afraid of the unexpected emotions he seemed to trigger in her. “How do you mean?” she whispered, her mouth suddenly dry.
    Gib smiled gently. Dany’s face was dotted with a sheen of perspiration. The noontime heat was turning the drawing room into a steam room in his estimation. But there was a different kind of heat rising in him—a slow building fire he needed to fight.
    â€œYou gotta understand Texans,” Gib said gruffly, scrambling to find some neutral ground between them. He couldn’t go on torturing Dany with his questions. Her grief was too fresh, and the jolting realization that her mother had been ready to become engaged obviously had been too much for her to cope with. In an effort to soothe her, he began to talk about himself—the private side—something he’d done very little of since coming to Vietnam. “Texans are a unique breed in the United States, and we’re real family oriented. My daddy died in a freak pickup accident when I was ten, so Mama raised the four of us by herself, plus ran the Ramsey ranch. We shared a love of the land. I was raised on hard, dry Texas earth. Midland’s part of the oil-boom country of Texas, but my daddy always raised herefords. His death ended up bringing us even closer together—a tight-knit team bound and determined to make ends meet.”
    Gib’s voice was like a balm to Dany’s shredded emotions. There was so much to this complex man. Dany tried to tell herself she was interested because he was American, and she wanted to know about American things because the blood ran in her veins. “So you grew up poor?”
    â€œDirt poor,” Gib said. He motioned to her bare feet. “And just like you, the four of us ran around in ragged coveralls and bare feet most of the time. The only time we saw a pair of shoes was when we had to go to school, and then we wore them grudgingly. The baby of our family, Tess, hated shoes. She used to get punished at school for taking them off in class and walking around barefoot in the halls.” Gib smiled at the thought of his stubborn baby sister—now an equally stubborn young woman who was also living in Vietnam, determined to help the peasants through her civilian-relief job.
    Dany smiled hesitantly at the light of happiness shining in his hazel eyes as he reminisced. She could hear it, too, in his low, deep voice. “Your mother is a very special woman, then,” she said. “A strong woman loyal to the land and to the four of you.” Dany wished her own mother had simply loved her, wanted her. She didn’t mind that Amy Lou wasn’t really strong in many ways.
    â€œYes,” Gib agreed, “she was very special—to