Page 85 of Keeping a Warrior

She gave him a rueful smile. “I get it. It’s okay.”

No, it wasn’t okay. Rhys was reaching out to take her in his arms when the thump on the door came again.

“Doc? Got some people out here to see you.”

“What the hell...?” With an annoyed grunt, Rhys raised his voice and called, “Just a second,” before pulling on his uniform and a T-shirt. He closed the curtain dividing the clinic from his sleeping area to shield Devon from prying eyes, and then he yanked open the door.

His irritable “What?” died in his throat when he saw the group of people milling about the courtyard. The young Marine who’d summoned him grinned. “They were all waiting at the checkpoint this morning, saying they wanted to see the doc. They’ve been searched and cleared, so I guess they’re all yours.”

With a cocky wave, the Marine jogged back toward his post.

Sayed stepped forward. “These villagers heard about you helping the boy with the land mine injury, and now they’re here for treatment.”

Rhys gaped at the crowd, mostly men, who looked eagerly back at him.

Shit.

“Tell ’em I’ll be right with them, will ya?” Hurrying back inside, he called to Devon to get dressed. As she did, Rhys told her what was happening outside.

“Can you help me?”

She shook her head. “They won’t speak about private, personal matters in front of a woman. Sayed will have to help, but if any women and children come in, call me.” Devon tucked her T-shirt into her pants and then stretched up to give him a kiss.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For the comfort, and the amazing sex, and the good night’s sleep.”

He hugged her tight, the weight of his blunder sitting heavily in his gut. “Come see me later?”

“Maybe.” She winked, then pulled open the door. “Salaam aleikum, Sayed.”

“Salaam aleikum,” Sayed mumbled back, his eyes wide as she strolled past him.

Rhys resisted the urge to stare after her like a lovesick puppy—they already had one of those in the platoon—and he cleared his throat. “Okay, please have everyone line up, Sayed.”

For the next several hours, Rhys cleaned and stitched up various wounds, splinted a couple of broken bones and diagnosed a few cases of the common cold. The men were grateful, and Rhys received more than one invitation to dine with them at their home.

After he finally sent the last guy on his way, Rhys went outside, blinking in the bright afternoon sunlight, to stretch and guzzle a bottle of water.

“How’d it go?”

Rhys turned to face Bradley. “Pretty well. I’ve been invited over for goat stew about five times so far.”

“Good work.” Bradley clapped him on the shoulder, then waved his hand at a small group sitting on the ground not far away. With a start of surprise, Rhys could see Devon, a soft scarf about her head, holding a toddler on her lap as she chatted with the women.

“Has she been talking to them all day?”

“All day.” Bradley smiled. “Winning hearts and minds. Counterinsurgency at its finest. Plus healing some old wounds.”

Rhys didn’t think Bradley would tell him anything, but he asked anyway. “You mentioned trouble with a previous platoon. What happened?”

“Bah.” Bradley spat on the ground. “Couple bad apples. Liked to rough up the locals, take potshots at goats and kittens for sport, that type of thing.”

“Holy hell.” Rhys was appalled.

“Yeah. They managed to destabilize this area pretty well with their bullshit. Unit finally got transferred out and an Army Special Forces team was brought in to try and repair relations. This outpost is of strategic importance, so...”

Bradley’s face softened as he looked at Devon and her group. “Maybe if they’d had someone like Lowe with them, someone to engage with the local women, it wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand.” He snorted. “But then again, maybe not. Guys like that don’t listen to anything but their own egos.”

With that, Bradley excused himself, saying he was going to grab some chow and a few hours’ sleep since he’d been up all the night before.