Free Ride the Tiger by Lindsay McKenna

ventured, “you’ll find healing with the land if you go back to ranching.” She stared out the screen toward the avenue of silk trees lining the drive. “If I’m upset or worried, I can always sink my hands into the earth and feel so much better. If I work with the earth for an hour or so, I feel whatever is bothering me go away.” She smiled gently. “You understand what I mean, don’t you?”
    â€œBetter than most,” Gib agreed. “The land has been good to six generations of Ramseys. Me and my siblings were the only generation to leave the land in favor of something else—although Tess is an agricultural specialist in rice development. She’s the only one of the four of us who stayed in touch with the land.”
    The tenuous, invisible bond that joined them was there, alive and wonderfully joyous. Dany absorbed Gib’s presence like land starved for sunlight. “I feel women have always had a closer tie with the earth,” she said wistfully. “The earth is like a mother to all of us. She clothes us, feeds us, keeps us alive with her air and gives us her water to drink. I look at the soil as if it were alive and breathing in my hands.”
    â€œYou’d like Vivi Ferrari, our foreman’s wife. She has very strong feelings about the earth being alive, too.”
    â€œStill,” Dany said firmly, “the soil is in your blood. Why you traded the solidity of earth beneath your feet for wings to fly in the sky is beyond me.” She smiled.
    Her smile, blinding sunlight, went straight through Gib’s heart. “Who knows? I might get out someday, go back and become a Texas rancher, carrying on the family tradition.”
    Dany shifted in her chair. She didn’t want their time together to end, but she felt the invisible pressure of Binh Duc. She knew Gib had stayed too long already.
    Gib saw her discomfort and realized he was overstaying his welcome. “Look, I’d like to talk to some of your villagers, if you don’t mind.”
    â€œAbout the mine? They won’t know anything.”
    With a shrug, Gib said, “I’ve got to do this for the investigation, Dany.”
    In spite of her concern, Dany was very much aware that Gib had used her first name instead of maintaining formality. “I—oh, all right. It won’t do any good, but if you must, go ahead.”
    Gib heard the hurt in her voice, and again the fear in her lovely green eyes was banked. “I’ll make this information gathering as quick and painless as possible,” he promised, getting to his feet.
    â€œI just wish the investigation would end.”
    Gib didn’t want to lose contact with her, he discovered. “Look, maybe we can wrap this up somewhere else after today,” he suggested.
    Hope shone in her eyes. “Tell me how.”
    â€œHave lunch with me next week. I know a nice little French restaurant in Da Nang. We can handle any last questions I have there.”
    Dany stood. She wanted to explore Gib on a more personal level. Yet she knew she didn’t dare get involved with an American marine. Her mother had most likely been killed for just such an act. “I—”
    â€œI’ll meet you in civilian clothes,” Gib teased. “If anyone sees us, you can tell them I’m a missionary or something.”
    She laughed. “You? A missionary?”
    Gib tried to look innocent. “Why not?”
    Dany’s heart lightened, if but for a moment. “Your eyes are a dead giveaway, Major. You’d never make it.”
    â€œCall me Gib. Please.”
    Sobering, Dany avoided the sudden narrowing of those eyes, and the smoldering quality they aimed solely at her. She shrugged nervously, trying to ignore the sudden, euphoric warmth cascading through her. “All right, lunch. But it must be all business, Maj—I mean, Gib.”
    â€œPurely business,” he promised huskily. Dany’s