Gib’s smile deepened as his gaze moved downward. Dany was barefoot. She worked unceasingly with her peasants, intent on what she was doing. A small rickety wheelbarrow sat nearby, filled with the twigs, branches and leaves they’d collected, leaving the ground swept clean.
“Dany?” Her name slipped from his lips, more like a reverent prayer than a call intended to catch her attention. Gib was surprised to hear himself use her first name—and by how softly he’d spoken it. Her link with the land made him feel unexpectedly good about her. Thus far, everything she’d said had proven true, Gib thought. If only he could prove for certain that she wasn’t a VC sympathizer.
Dany jerked her head up. Her heart banged violently in her breast. Gib Ramsey stood smiling at her, dressed in civilian clothes—and looking devastatingly handsome, she thought unwillingly. The peasants hadn’t even heard him call her name. But she had. Confused, she stopped raking and walked toward him. Part of her was thrilled at seeing him, another part filled with dread and fear. In spite of his civilian clothes, word might get back to Binh Duc that he was here, on her property, once again.
Feelings of joy warred with embarrassment as Dany approached him. Glancing down at herself, she realized how unkempt she was. Heat nettled her cheeks, but there was nothing she could do about her appearance at this point. Still, she saw the warm look of greeting in Gib’s hazel eyes, the line of his mouth stretching into a lazy smile that sent her heart skittering.
“I’m back,” Gib greeted. Dany’s face was flushed, tendrils of black hair sticking to her temples and down the sides of her neck. Her skin had a golden glow.
Dany halted a few feet from him. Caught off guard by his unexpected presence and unsettled by her own response to him, she heard anger tinge her voice as she asked, “Couldn’t you have at least called?”
Gib saw the look of dread laced with anger replace the sparkle of life that had shone in her green eyes when she first saw him. Was it because of his official capacity? Or aimed at him personally? He didn’t want her to dislike him, he discovered. “I’ll try to remember to do that next time,” he said coolly. “I need to discuss some other things with you—”
Dany gripped his arm and turned him toward the house, looking around and pursing her lips. “Then let’s go inside where we can’t be seen.”
Sensing her worry, Gib fell in step with her as they moved toward the house. “Is anything wrong?”
Taking the wooden steps quickly, Dany placed the rake against the wall and opened the rear screen door. “As always, your being here jeopardizes my neutrality, Major.”
Gib stepped inside. He watched as she took off her bamboo hat and set it on the floor. “I won’t stay long,” he told her.
Dany gestured for him to follow her. She didn’t have the heart to chide him further. Her pulse wouldn’t settle down, and she poked nervously at her damp hair. She was sure she looked utterly disheveled, and she wished mightily that Gib had called first. For some reason, she didn’t want him to see her like this.
Leading him into the main part of the house, Dany called for Ma Ling to bring iced tea. Then she took Gib on to the enclosed veranda at the front of the house. “Let me have a quick shower and change into some clean, dry clothes,” she said quickly. “I’ll join you shortly.”
“Sure,” Gib said. “But you look beautiful just the way you are,” he couldn’t resist adding. He saw her cheeks flame scarlet.
“Oh—” Dany’s heart tripled its beat. Licking her lips nervously, she backed off the veranda and hesitated at the entrance. “I’d better change. I’ll be just a moment.”
Sitting down on one of the bamboo chairs, which had huge, soft pink cushions, Gib wondered at her reaction. Wasn’t Dany used to being complimented? Apparently not—she’d blushed like a schoolgirl.
Ma Ling appeared with two chilled glasses of iced tea. She set the accompanying pitcher on a small bamboo table covered with thick etched glass. A plate of sliced lemons and a sterling silver sugar bowl completed the ensemble.
Gib thanked her and got up to squeeze lemon juice into his glass and add two heaping spoons of sugar. This time, Ma Ling didn’t give him the accusing stare. He grinned, taking the glass back to his chair to sit down. Maybe it was the maid’s way of praising him for showing up in civilian clothes.
Dany quickly slipped into a long, pale pink cotton skirt that brushed her ankles and a sleeveless white blouse. Her hair hung in damp sheets about her shoulders. She quickly ran a brush through the strands to smooth them into place, then captured the mass into one long braid that hung between her shoulder blades. Her ever-present grief lifted slightly at the thought of Gib downstairs. Dany glanced at herself in the bedroom mirror. Wispy strands swept across her forehead, barely touching her brows. Tendrils curled against her temples, softening the natural angularity of her features. Smoothing the cotton blouse, she hurriedly left her spacious bedroom, furnished entirely in bamboo pieces, and skipped down the stairs.
Gib stood when Dany entered the veranda. She looked fetching in the simple skirt and blouse, incredibly beautiful and fresh. His smile deepened when he realized she was still barefoot.
“You’re a country girl at heart,” he teased, stepping over to the table and offering her a glass of iced tea.
Smiling shyly, Dany sat down. “Thank you.” She drank half the glass of tea thirstily—or had she done it out of nerves? Somehow Gib made her wildly aware of herself as a woman.
Gib took a seat opposite her at the table and opened his briefcase, taking out a number of papers and a pen. “How are you doing since the funeral?” he asked.
Sitting back in the bamboo chair, Dany drew up one leg beneath the voluminous skirt. “I have good days and bad days,” she answered simply.
“It’ll cycle like that for about three months.”
Her mouth twitched. “Don’t say that.” Pointing to her eyes, Dany added, “Look at my dark circles. I’ve had nothing but broken sleep and nightmares since it happened.” With a frustrated sound, she said, “There’s too much work here that demands my attention. I can’t keep going on like this.”
“You wake up tired and go to sleep tired,” Gib guessed softly. The urge to reach out and fold Dany into his arms was tangible. She looked so young, seemingly untouched by the war that escalated daily around her.
“Yes,” Dany said. She managed a small smile. “The work keeps me from thinking...feeling, I guess.”
Hearing the raw pain in her voice, he lifted his head and held her sincere gaze. “Grief does funny things to us,” he agreed.
Dany set the glass on the table. She tried to remind herself that he was a marine, someone who posed a threat to the plantation and her people. Just as she was going to speak, she heard a young boy calling her name as he ran around the corner of the house. It was Hanh Vinh, Ma Ling’s twelve-year-old grandson.
Gib heard the high, excited call and turned in his seat. A skinny young boy dressed in a pair of faded cutoffs and a white T-shirt, his straight black hair cut in a bowl fashion, came galloping up the stairs.
“Missy Dany, Missy Dany! Look what I found!” Vinh called excitedly. His brown eyes widened at the sight of Gib, and he jerked to a halt.
“It’s all right, Vinh,” Dany said kindly. “This is Major Ramsey. He’s here to investigate my mother’s death.” She spoke slowly to him in English, as she often did. Dany wanted her workers to be fluent not only in their own language, but—English and French as well.
Vinh flushed, dodged around Gib and proudly marched over to Dany. “Look what I found!”
With a cry of delight, Dany reached out toward Vinh. “A kitten?”
“Yes, I found it crying along our fence line where I was clearing some brush. Look at it! Look at the color. I’ve decided to call him Milky, because he is the color