One Man's War by Lindsay McKenna

me tonight at the O club?” he pressed, taking advantage of her lowered guard. Never had he wanted anything more.
    With a laugh, Tess shook her head. “I can’t go tonight. One of the women is in labor, and I promised her I’d stay with her. It’s her first baby, and I want to be here for moral support as well as for medical purposes.” Tess touched the box. “Now, with the Mercurochrome, I can disinfect the baby’s navel. Do you know how many infants get infection right after they’re born because of lack of iodine?”
    Pete shook his head. But he saw the seriousness in Tess’s vulnerable eyes. “There’s more,” he said abruptly, hurt that she wouldn’t go with him to the O club.
    â€œMore? Of what?”
    â€œSupplies. Come on, they’re in the jeep. They’re too bulky to carry all at once.” He turned on his heel, trying to salvage his hurt pride. A part of him understood Tess’s reason for staying at Le My. There was a mother having a baby—and he was sure the baby was wanted and wouldn’t be given away to some stranger as he’d been. He saw something commendable in Tess’s decision to stay, but the selfish part of him wanted her regardless of the situation, and that was the part he wrestled with as he walked back to the jeep.
    Tess quickly caught up with Pete. “I can’t believe this! What other things did you bring?”
    â€œOh, just odds and ends I found.”
    At the jeep, Tess halted, her mouth dropping open. There were ten half sheets of plywood in the back of the vehicle. In another cardboard box were six colorful comforters, in quiltlike patterns. The third box contained six marine-issue green Snoopy blankets, in camouflage jungle green-and-brown, a blend of nylon quilted with an inner layer of polyester down. Tess was speechless.
    Pete felt an incredible tidal wave of pleasure sweep through him as he saw the effects his gifts had on Tess. She was like a child at Christmas. He patted the plywood.
    â€œAfter looking at your hut, which is more like a sieve than a house, I figured plywood walls would be best.” He pointed to the box of comforters. “And all you had to lie on are those lousy grass mats. You’re sleeping on a dirt floor, for all intents and purposes. At least now you’ll be able to have some padding under you and a blanket to throw on top of you when it gets chilly in the early morning hours.”
    Pete’s thoughtfulness overwhelmed Tess, and she fought back tears of gratitude. Some of the harshness had left his features, and she saw a little boy standing in front of her, wanting so badly to please his mother, wanting so badly to be held and loved for what he’d gotten her. All of these realizations cascaded through Tess: how much Pete needed to be held and loved, to be told he was worthwhile and needed. The only way he knew to get approval was to buy someone with gifts.
    Sadness moved through Tess as she gently touched the comforters and then the blankets. “You are,” she whispered unsteadily, on the verge of tears, “an angel of mercy, Pete Mallory.” And without thinking, she put her arms around his neck, drew him close and simply held him. She buried her head next to his jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    A shattering sensation broke around Pete’s heart as Tess went slowly into his arms. This time she didn’t move away. This time, her loving body filled with a strength he craved, she remained within his tightening embrace. Closing his eyes, Pete savored her length against him, as if she were a prayer that had finally been answered. A ragged sigh tore from him and his nostrils flared to take in her very feminine scent. It was a perfume far more dizzying and beautiful than the orchids that clung to the trees in the jungles.
    Just her simple act, an act of innocence, made him savor Tess as he had no other woman. Pete felt the rapid