Ride The Tiger

Grimly, Gib walked to the sofa and gestured for her to sit. “There’s nothing neutral about war,” he said gruffly. “Now, if you’ll take a seat, I’ll try and make this as painless as possible on you.” And on me. Sweet God, but his sense of protection was overwhelming him. Dany looked absolutely distraught by his presence. An investigation would do nothing but dredge up all her grief over her mother’s passing. He felt like hell about it.

Touching her brow, Dany drew in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry...I’m forgetting my manners. Please, sit down. Ma Ling has made us tea.”

The sofa was as delicate looking as everything else in the home. Gib, always aware of his size, sat down carefully. He noticed that Dany’s hand trembled perceptibly as she filled one cup with tea and handed it to him. Again, he was struck by the shadows under her eyes and their slight puffiness. No doubt she’d been crying more than sleeping the last couple of days.

“Thanks,” he murmured, holding the cup and saucer between his hands. “How are you getting on?”

Dany shrugged and poured herself tea, not really wanting to drink it. “I survive moment to moment,” she admitted huskily as she sat back, her cup and saucer also in her hands, untouched.

Gib nodded. Her fragility was transparent in her every move, in her soft words, edged with pain. He was grateful that she didn’t try to evade him with social small talk. Dany wasn’t the actress in the family. She was too genuine to hide behind some carefully constructed facade as Amy Lou appeared to have done all her life.

He cleared his throat. “I was an eyewitness to your mother’s death, and there are some questions I need answered.” Placing the cup and saucer on the coffee table, Gib opened his folder. The official IO report stared back at him.

Dany moved uncomfortably. “I don’t understand why the American military has to be involved. The local authorities are investigating. Shouldn’t that be enough? Can’t you talk to Constable Jordan in Da Nang? He’s responsible for law enforcement in this region and has already taken my statement.” Dany feared Binh Duc’s reaction to Americans snooping around. He might already know that Gib was here, blatant in his tan, short-sleeved marine uniform.

“I’ll talk to him, too,” Gib said, writing down the name. “I have to try to determine whether the land mine was buried by VC to destroy marine convoys that travel up and down the highway, or if someone had a vendetta against your mother.”

Dany’s eyebrows dipped. “I’m sure it was a land mine put there to try to kill the American marines.” She set the cup and saucer down a little too loudly on the coffee table and got up, unable to sit still a moment longer. Her gut screamed at her that Binh Duc had been responsible for her mother’s death because of Amy Lou’s flirtation with the American general. Whether Dany would ever be able to prove it was another thing. More importantly, Dany knew she didn’t dare divulge Duc’s name to either the Vietnamese authorities or the American military. To do so would invite reprisals from Duc’s powerful force—a group that melted into the population by day and gathered after dark to wreak havoc. She didn’t want the plantation destroyed, or any more lives taken.

Gib clung to his patience. Dany was suddenly nervous. Was she afraid he’d uncover VC connections? “Has anyone threatened your mother lately?” he asked quietly.

Dany looked over her shoulder. “Of course not!”

Gib motioned to the walls of pictures. “She looks to be a famous celebrity. A Hollywood actress?”

With a grimace, Dany folded her arms against her body as she stood in the center of the room. Her voice was low and off-key. “Didn’t you know pictures lie? That’s what Hollywood really is: carefully orchestrated lies designed to make the public think some beautiful fairy-tale land exists out there, and all the people who belong to it are somehow magical and better off than the rest of us.” She halted abruptly. This marine didn’t care about her. All he wanted was information that would ultimately destroy Villard neutrality.

Her pain was very real. Gib frowned. “Tell me about your mother. Was she a famous actress in Hollywood’s heyday?”

Dany’s mouth quirked. “Let’s stick to business, shall we, Major? No one had threatened my mother.”

He wasn’t going to be deterred. “I need some background information. Tell me about the Villard plantation.”

Feeling trapped, Dany stood very stiffly. As much as she wanted to dislike Gib Ramsey, the opposite was occurring. His eyes, although hard, held something else in their depths. Every time she connected with and held his probing gaze, she felt an incredible surge of warmth and protection surrounding her. It was ridiculous! Dany shrugged it off, attributing it to her grief-stricken state. Her heart pounding, she licked her lower lip. “We’re a rubber plantation, Major. A thousand acres of rubber trees. That’s what we do for a living—produce rubber and export it. We’ve been here since 1930.”

“How did your family get through the Vietminh years?” Gib asked.

Dany frowned. “Just as we’re doing right now—by remaining neutral. My father refused to take sides in the Vietminh situation when Vietnam was a French colony.”

“Did that create enemies?”

Exasperated, Dany shrugged. “I don’t know!” She wheeled around and started to pace the long, rectangular room. “I wasn’t even born then. And my parents never spoke about it to me.”

Gib dutifully recorded the information for his report. It hurt him to see her like this, especially knowing he was the reason she was becoming unraveled. He tried to take the gruffness out of his tone. “Who handles the operation of the plantation?”

“I do,” Dany said flatly. She turned and walked back to him. “I’ve run this place since my father died.”

“Didn’t your mother help?” Gib found it phenomenal that Dany could handle the reins of such a large operation. His ranch back in Texas was as big, and he knew the problems involved in managing such a concern.

“My mother—” Dany stopped, then sighed. “My mother lived to be a part of the social scene, Major. I stayed here and ran the plantation.” Her voice dropped and grew hoarse. “The land is what I love. This land and its people. Out back of this house is a Vietnamese village. Three generations of families have helped us till this soil and keep the plantation whole and alive.”

Moved by her admission, Gib tore his gaze from her. As a rancher, he understood love of the land only too well. There was something honorable about Dany that struck him hard. He forced himself back to the report.

“What is your affiliation with the Vietcong?” He didn’t look up, fearing the answer.

Dany made an exasperated sound. “Affiliation? Major, I’m neutral! I don’t deal with them at all! I have the local leader’s word that he will not cross or use my plantation in any warlike activity or purpose.”

“Would that be Binh Duc?”

Inwardly, Dany winced. “Yes.”

Gib looked up measuring the expression in her eyes and the tone of her voice. “You know him?”

“Of course I do!” Frustrated, Dany cried, “I’ve lived here all my life, Major! Just because I know Binh Duc doesn’t mean I consort with him! Is that what you’re implying? That I’m a VC sympathizer?”

Grimly, Gib held her angry, hurt gaze. “You tell me. Are you?”

“No!”

“Then who do you think planted that mine?”

Rubbing her forehead, tears jamming into her eyes, Dany whispered, “I don’t know!”

Gib had no defense against her. His heart jagged with the pain he was causing her by asking such brutal questions. The tears in her eyes made him feel like hell. “On the other hand,” he began hoarsely, “if the VC felt you weren’t being neutral in some way, they could have planted it.”

Dany stood very still, fighting an overwhelming—and ridiculous—need to be held by Gib Ramsey. She couldn’t forget the feel of his arms around her after the explosion, or the husky tone of his voice as he’d tried to soothe her panic and grief. Stiffening her spine, she rattled, “That’s entirely possible, I suppose, but we’ve done nothing to make the VC think we’re anything but neutral.” She agonized over the possibility. Binh Duc was fully capable of doing such a thing.

Grimly, he said, “It’s known that your mother and a certain marine general were pretty serious about each other.”

Dany’s heart thudded once, hard, in her breast. She felt the iciness of fear stab through her gut. “What?” she whispered.

Gib saw the disbelief and shock in her eyes. Was Dany putting on an act, or was this real? His heart told him she was genuinely stunned by his statement. “I’m privy to certain information that confirms your mother was very serious about this general. What do you know about it?”

“N-nothing.” Dany stood there, feeling suddenly dizzy with dread. Had Duc found this out? Was that the reason for the mine? She touched her brow and stared down at the teak floor. “My mother’s life was private. She always shared silly gossip with me when she came back from luncheons and charity benefits, but I never knew...really knew about her...” She grasped for the right words. Amy Lou had always been a tease to men and, like a butterfly, had never stayed with one man very long since Dany’s father’s death. Why hadn’t her mother told her how serious she was about this general? Tears drove into Dany’s eyes, and she forced herself to look at Gib.

“How much do you know about her relationship with the general?” she demanded in a choked voice.

“That he was going to ask her to marry him the day she died in that mine explosion.”

“Oh, God....” Dany wavered, then caught herself.

“Didn’t you know?”

Covering her eyes with her hand, Dany dragged in a deep breath. It all made sense now. Amy Lou had known the general for six months, gone out with him with a regularity that hadn’t marked her other relationships. Why hadn’t Dany realized it? Lamely, she admitted, “I didn’t know. She never told me.”

“But if Binh Duc had known, wouldn’t he have had reason to plant a mine, feeling you were no longer neutral?”

“I—I don’t know.” And she didn’t. Trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall, Dany squeezed her eyes shut and 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!”