Page 103 of Vaquero
Chapter Forty-Three
Meg held tight to Dominic. As if he’d known how weak she’d grown, Julio’s bone-crushing hug hadn’t eased since they’d settled aboard the chopper Dooley had sent to retrieve them.
Man, that Agent Coltrane was some kind of super-agent, the way she and her guys had dropped out of nowhere at the last second. Guess some Texas senator had jerked her chain the moment Domingo Zapata broke out of thatallegedlysecure federal prison. Coltrane must’ve dealt with Zapata before. Interesting.
Meg was ten kinds of exhausted and sore. After they’d rescued Dominic, Julio gave her that shot of pain-killer, and it helped. Then. All she’d needed was him and Dominic back in her hands. The Zapata brother’s death-grip on the Highlands of Minas Gerais was over. Done. Pepe and his village would now live in peace, at least for as long as it lasted. But with every jolt and bump the helo made, streaks of fire radiated through the hole in her shoulder. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could last.
Dominic was sound asleep with his thumb in his mouth, snoring into the hollow of her sweaty neck. Julio wasn’t talking much, and Meg didn’t blame him. He’d kiss the side of her head, and occasionally, her lips. She couldn’t have heard him over the noise anyway. She hadn’t been given a helmet with a commlink, not that she cared. She had nothing to say to anyone. Not yet. She needed more time to decompress and process what she’d done at Zapata’s bunkers. Trevor was right. Killing, even in self-defense, took part of a person’s soul. Yet she’d do it all again. Losing Dominic or Julio would’ve been worse.
This marathon day had to have been hard on Julio. Marching into Zapata’s stronghold had certainly scared the bejesus out of Meg. She couldn’t imagine what reliving Tomas’ rescue, only to lose that precious boy months later, did to Julio. Talk about a nightmare.
Her entire left side had gone numb hours ago, and she had a killer migraine that worried the crap out of her. She’d had a similar headache the morning of her stroke. God wouldn’t be that cruel, would He? She’d been humbled enough these last twenty-four hours, hadn’t she? Why punish her now, when she had everything she’d ever wanted in her arms and wrapped around her?
‘I’ll go to church again. I’ll be good,’she silently promised the Almighty. ‘Heck, I’ll be great, if only You’d let this small infraction slide. I shouldn’t have deceived Captain Dooley. But don’t punish me for loving this boy enough to die for him. And kill for him.’
Although none of what happened today was her fault. Well, except for dodging Dooley. That wasnotexactly smart, but Meg knew she’d do it again. Dominic had needed her when his bastard father showed up. The creep. Who could believe such a little lamb had come from the loins of that… that animal?
‘So there,’she told the Lord with a hint of attitude.‘None of what happened today was my fault. If not for me, Dominic would’ve had to face Zapata all by himself. You should thank me for being gutsy enough to do stupid stuff once in a while. Although…’She swallowed hard.‘That was probably Your idea all along, wasn’t it? You needed someone to stand with Dominic in his time of need. You didn’t want him to be alone, did You? So You… You picked me?’
God didn’t answer. Of course. Unlike Meg’s, His ways were more subtle. Yet the notion that He’d chosen her for this awesome, awful mission humbled Meg. Tears sprang to her tired, bleary eyes. She could understand why God needed Julio. The man prayed to Him. Hell, he had the entire Hail Mary tattooed on his chest in reverence to the Holy Virgin. But Meg? She wasn’t even physically strong. She was a defect and a burden and… Brazil might not let her adopt Dom. That worried her the most.
‘God,’she prayed.‘I love this little boy. Please smooth the way for me to keep him. Please. I… I can’t let him go. He needs me, and I love him. I’ll be so, so good to him.’
Which made her think of Domingo Zapata and the Spanish hexes and curses he’d inked all over his ugly body. Even his face and his skull.Ewww.He and Julio were polar opposites, the darkly stained spawn of Hell fighting a guardian angel. One who had only ever fought for good, while the other murdered innocent women and children. The eternal dichotomy. Good versus evil.
The pain in her head throbbed and Meg turned away from Julio before he saw.‘And, oh yes, thank you for sending Julio to save me again. I don’t know how he found us, but I know he believes in You. He told me so.’
Like she had to tell Him that? Meg chalked up all this chatting with God nonsense to the throbbing pain in her head. She hadn’t prayed this much in years, not since Julio showed up with hisMadre de Dios.
Currently, the chopper was on its way back over the Atlantic to theIwo Jimawhere she no doubt had a butt reaming coming. Well, bring it the hell on. She’d never apologize for risking her life to save this child—any child! But man, she was so, so tired. Dooley had better watch his step. She wouldn’t go down easy.
It’d be really nice if she could just crawl into the bed and sleep for a week. Preferably with Julio in her arms and Dominic somewhere close by with his blankie. But she’d probably end up in the brig, and that was so wrong.
Julio tapped her helmet, so she had to look at him then. He cocked his head, a question she couldn’t answer in his sharp eyes. She shouldn’t have looked. Her heart was too full; her tears betrayed her. Meg found herself pulled onto Julio’s lap and her head pressed against his shoulder, helmet and all, while she cried.
He started rocking, and her troubles faded away. Her head stopped hurting. She had what she wanted, Julio and Dominic. She only hoped she could keep them.
Once the helo landed, Julio took Dominic, then helped her climb onto the deck and steadied her until she had her balance. A wave of dizziness hit her anyway, and she latched onto Julio’s wrist before she fell. Corpsman Giacomo must’ve seen. The next thing she knew, he’d draped a thick, warm blanket over her. Another corpsman showed up with a gurney, and by then, Meg was going down. In her zeal to save Dominic, she’d put aside the fact that she’d been pinned to a freakin’ tree, and it was all catching up with her now.
And then, she was flat on her back with an oxygen mask over her face.
Julio leaned over her with a sleepy Dominic in his hands. “You’re going to sickbay,” he shouted over the noisy rotor slap of an incoming helo.
Like a spoiled brat, Meg cried, “But I want to stay with you.”
The gentlest, sweetest light washed over his ruggedly handsome face. “You will,” he promised before he leaned into her and kissed her forehead.
She gave back as good as she could, but exhaustion was calling her name. The trip to sickbay was a disjointed ride. Corpsman Giacomo wasn’t smiling. Somewhere along the way, he’d started her on an IV drip. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice hard and tight.
“Domingo Zapata. He kinda stuck a knife in me and pinned me to a tree. You believe a guy would do that?”
“I’ll kill him,” Lucas snarled.
“Julio already did,” Meg explained drowsily. “Then he saved my little boy, Dominic, and… and me.” And that did it. The day had kicked Meg’s butt. Again, she couldn’t stop the tears.
“Don’t let her kid you,” Julio murmured as he materialized at her side from somewhere else in the room and intertwined his fingers with her. “This woman could’ve taken on the entire seventh fleet today. You should’ve seen her. Word to the wise, do not mess with Meg Duncan. She’ll whup your ass.”
Meg hadn’t known he was there. She’d lost sight of him, but his words almost made her smile. Until Captain Dooley loomed over her and said, “You disobeyed a direct order, soldier.”
