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She was writing as fast as she could. “Okay, I got it. Do you know Alex Kazak? The ex-Spetsnaz combat medic? Mace knows him.”
“Sure, we saved the guy’s life.”
“He lives five miles away from where I live. Alex was in Peru for years with Alexandrov’s drug team. He knows tropical medicine, Nate. Should I call him? Get his help and guidance on this? I can call Jack Driscoll, owner of Shield Security. He can pull strings and make things happen where very few other people can.”
“Get your ducks in a row up there,” Nate advised. “Alex is perfect for this. A lot of doctors who don’t know tropical medicine will screw Mace up if he survives this. Alex can be your medical advocate and can speak for you because you’re the POA. Alex can be your eyes and ears on it, and he can interface with doctors directly who may not know Fer-De-Lance venom and what it does to a human being or how to properly treat it. He can actually help educate them. It will go better for Mace, if Alex is in the breach between the docs and him and yourself.”
“Good,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I want to be there right now with him, Nate.”
“I know. I’m sorry, but you can’t. This happened so fast. No one was expecting it.”
“Has his dad been called?”
“Yes, I talked to him earlier. He’s fine with you taking care of Mace. I think, relieved, because he’s got arthritis and can’t move around much like he used to. Plus, he lives alone and doesn’t know anything about medicine.”
Nodding, her heart pounding, she said, “Then it’s good that I’ll take the responsibility for him. Give me his phone number?”
Nate gave it to her. He sounded exhausted and Sierra felt the full pressure on the 18Delta medic through the strained, emotional tone of his voice. Thank God, Nate was there. If Mace made it out of this alive, it would be due to Nate’s abilities as a medic. She said, “Listen, you need to rest, too. Call me the minute there is any change in Mace’s condition?”
“You know I will.”
Sierra hung up the phone, completely immune to the beauty of the sky turning gold and pink as the sun edged further up over the eastern horizon. She rested her hips against the kitchen counter, trying to think. Her love for Mace overwhelmed her. What had he done? What was he planning? He’d changed all his personnel records to say she was his POA? Had he been coming home in June to… What? To let her know? Wiping her face, she shook off all her wonderings over the possibilities. Right now, she had to wake up Lauren and Alex. It was six-thirty a.m. Her mind whirled with who to contact after talking with Alex. She knew Jack Driscoll had power behind-the-scenes, that he could move mountains via the CIA when necessary. He would be key in getting Mace transferred here as soon as humanly possible.
IF Mace made it. What if he didn’t? Sierra pressed her hand against her chest above the light-green tee she wore, the pain almost too much to bear. She loved him. He had never said those words to her. Think! She had to think! She felt sorry for Nate and Cale. It must have been hell for them to see Mace get bit and go down. She knew they were like brothers to one another. Tight. Inseparable.
With shaking hands, she put all the new phone numbers in her cell phone’s address book. Some relief shot through her as she picked up the wall phone to call the doctor in Cusco and stop them from wanting to amputate Mace’s foot. As she waited for the phone to be picked up at the other end, she knew Alex had training in tropical medicine and venom protocols and drugs. He would be indispensable. Wiping her face, brushing the tears out of her eyes, Sierra fought to get herself together. She wasn’t going to be able to help Mace if she broke down sobbing in terror.
CHAPTER 18
The call fromNate came in the next morning to Sierra. Mace had passed the crisis point and he was going to live. She’d cried unashamedly on the phone, blubbering out her thanks to Nate, who sounded close to tears himself. Mace was still groggy, Nate told her. He tried to keep the medicalese to a minimum so that she would understand. Basically, the venom had taken down nearly all his platelets, which left him open to his whole-body hemorrhaging and bleeding out. The Cusco hospital had quickly demanded more platelet transfusion IVs flown in from Lima, and that had been the lifesaver. Sierra slid to the kitchen floor, her back against the cabinets, clutching her phone, sobbing. If Nate had any doubt she loved Mace, it was gone now. She couldn’t talk directly to Mace because he was still in the ICU. He was sliding in and out of semi-consciousness, mumbling a lot, calling her name, Nate told her. Sierra cried harder, relief sweeping through her.
After that, things seemed to move at the speed of light. Sierra was so grateful for Alex and Lauren’s support throughout the next two days. And somehow, Jack Driscoll had gotten Mace transferred to a nearby civilian hospital in Arlington, known for its tropical medicine department. Much to her relief. Sierra didn’t ask who he’d called, what favors he’d pulled in, but Mace would be flown by C-130 into Joint Air Base Andrews and then a civilian ambulance would take him to the hospital.
Andrews was only a thirty-minute drive from her cabin. Alex rubbed his hands together, grinning like a fool, ecstatic over the developments. He had already been in touch with the doctors at the tropical unit and knew they had received Mace’s lab reports from the Cusco hospital. Everyone was waiting for Mace to arrive.
Sierra could barely think at this point, sleep deprived, anxious and worried for him. The last call from Nate had come in as Mace was being moved from the Cusco hospital to the airport where the Air Force C-130 was waiting to fly him stateside. He would be monitored by an RN and paramedic.
The early June morning was crisp and clear as Sierra walked with Lauren and Alex into the red brick hospital rising eight stories high above them. Alex knew the medical system and had already found out where Mace would be taken. He would be assigned to the sixth floor where the tropical unit was located. He was getting a private room. Jack Driscoll had paid out some ungodly sum, Sierra knew, to make this all happen. All of Mace’s medical bills would be covered by Shield Security. Not by the military, who would never authorize a civilian hospital for their own personnel. Sierra had never felt as grateful in her life as she was to the men and women of Shield. Mace wasn’t one of them, but she was. And it was well known that Jack took care of his own. As he’d told Sierra many times before, they were a family. And family sticks together. Now, she was seeing the truth behind his words.
How badly Sierra wanted to meet Mace at the ER entrance as the ambulance drove in, but Alex cautioned her to remain in the waiting room on the sixth floor. He told her Mace would be exhausted from the flight. Maybe semi-conscious. The doctors would want time with him once he arrived. There would be examinations, lab tests, blood pulled to assess his updated condition. And until his medical team felt he was stable, no one would be allowed in to see him. The waiting was excruciating for Sierra. She sat tensely in the 6thfloor lounge, her hands gripped together in her lap, her heart running wild. How badly she wanted to see Mace. Touch him. Kiss him. Hold him. He’d nearly died. She’d nearly lost him before they’d even had a chance at any kind of relationship. Even now, she wasn’t sure there even WAS a relationship. Just because Mace had put her down as his POA, didn’t mean anything. It was always wait-and-see with him.
Mace was barely able to think or speak. The last nurse and doctor had left his private room. Late-afternoon sunlight shone in slats through the venetian blinds over the room’s window. They had transferred him to this pale-blue room, gotten him into a clean gown, checked out his snake bite puncture, and created a tent over his feet to keep the sheets off it.
For Mace, it was good to hear English instead of Spanish. Given his condition, his mind still swimming in venom, he had a tough time translating Spanish to English. Nate had been there, standing guard dog duty for him. No one was going to cut off his foot. And after the team of U.S. doctors examined it, they agreed that the swollen appendage could be saved. But it was going to be a long road back, they warned him. Mace was fine with that. He would go through anything to keep his foot. They hooked him up to an IV, giving him the medications to continue to thwart the venom still inside his system.
His mind was still fogged, and he wasn’t at all sure why he was at a civilian facility instead of a military hospital. Nate had talked urgently to him, but Mace had been groggy, unable to retain or remember much of anything. The only person he wanted to see was Sierra. Nate had promised when he arrived stateside, she would be there to see him. The doctor had told him that she and Alex and Lauren Kazak were in the visitors’ lounge, anxious to see him. He was sitting up, his foot aching, but the pain was tolerable thanks to the morphine they could give him just enough of. Nate had told him how close he’d come to dying.
The door slowly opened. He looked up, seeing Sierra move quietly into his room. His heart thudded once to underscore his need for her. She had her hair down loose, a black, shining cloak over the cap sleeves of her light-green t-shirt. She looked anxious, her cypress-colored eyes wide with anxiety. Mace could see the exhaustion and strain in her face and understood the stress she too had been under. Sierra shut the door behind her. She looked good to him in a set of forest-green slacks that shouted of her long, long legs. If Mace had any doubts about whether he loved this woman, they were erased the moment she gave him that soft, tentative smile as she walked over to his bedside.
He was weak and had to force himself to lift his hand to hers. “Helluva way to meet up again,” he rumbled, his voice still rough from the aftermath of the intubation tube they’d stuck down his throat back in Peru to keep him breathing. Sierra’s fingers felt warm, woman-strong, as they curved gently around his, as if to protect him from the world he lived within.
Sierra nodded, her throat aching with the tears she didn’t dare allow fall. She touched his shoulder, holding his gaze. “You’re home, Mace…,” and she leaned over him, placing her lips against the hard-set line of his mouth.
Every cell that was still alive in his ruptured body, every cell that hadn’t been torn apart by the viper’s venom, responded to her warm lips suddenly covering his. Mace groaned, weakly lifted his free hand, and settled it on her shoulder, his fingers tangling through her thick, clean hair. She smelled so good to him, a hint of fresh pine from her skin mixed with the orange scent lingering in her hair. The way her lush mouth covered his, the sweetness of her hello kiss, totaled Mace. He felt himself suddenly responding, coming to life once again. Sierra fed him a powerful sense of wanting to live, to believe in hope. Her hand sliding against his shoulder, his skin tightening, welcoming him home to her.
Home.How long had he not had one? Mace kissed her with all the strength he could muster, which was damn little. His body wasn’t coordinated yet, nor was his shorting-out mind, both still in the throes of healing from the venom that had nearly killed him. Mace slid his fingers across the nape of Sierra’s neck, angling her, wanting more of her mouth against his, wanting to love her with his body. It was nowhere near that point of recovery right now. But his heart was, and Mace felt such incredible gratitude toward Sierra for never giving up on him. Always there. Always someone he could count on, no matter what. As she gently drew away, her palm remaining pressed to his stubbled jaw, he saw the tears and the grief and worry for him in her eyes. And that once again punctuated why he felt so conflicted, so torn asunder over his want for Sierra. His want for what he knew could be so good between them. If they were together, she would look like this every time he left, never sure he would return. His fingers sliding through her clean hair as he did so, Mace released her. “You look beautiful,” he rasped thickly, smiling weakly. “I’m glad you’re here… thank you…”
Sierra sat on the edge of the bed, her hip against his, facing him, absorbing his roughened voice. “How are you doing?” She reached for his large hand, enclosing it with her smaller ones.
