Christmas Kisses Collection. Louise Allen

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“Tranquillo.”

      Ellen remained quiet as he’d asked. She glanced out the end of the van. What was she going to do? She couldn’t give him the meds and she had to protect the others.

      The tip of the knife was pushed against her skin. The man hovered over her. He smelled of sweat and wet clothes.

      “What do you want?” she asked.

      “The drugs,” the man bit out. “Open the box.”

      The urgent demand in his voice told her he meant business. When she didn’t immediately move he pressed the knife against her and growled, “Now.”

      Panic welled in her. She couldn’t give him the drugs but the blade at her neck reminded her that she couldn’t put him off long either.

      With relief and renewed alarm she heard Chance call, “Ellen?”

      “Say no word,” the man whispered, slipping down behind the seat but still holding the knife to her neck.

      She had to warn Chance.

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      Why hadn’t Ellen returned? Chance headed toward the van.

      He had finished applying the bandage around the man’s leg. All he needed to do now was give him the antibiotics and they could get on the road. A commotion outside caught his attention. A young man who looked like he was in his twenties was being helped into the tent by another Honduran about the same age. There was a rag soaked in blood on his arm. Michael and Karen were aiding them. Marco and one of his men had started setting up the exam table they had just folded. They could handle the situation. He wanted to know what Ellen was doing.

      He instructed his patient to remain where he was. The rear of the van had been driven under the back of the tent. The area was shadowy because the portable lamps were being used around the exam tables. With the dimming light of the day, compounded by the storm, it was hard to see.

      As Chance neared the open doors he saw the small glow of what must be Ellen’s penlight. “Hey, what’s taking you so long?”

      She was on her knees on the floor, facing the medicine box. Her head turned slowly toward him. Even in the disappearing light Chance could see the fear in her eyes. She looked as if she was imploring him to leave. There was a slight movement behind her. Ellen shook her head almost imperceptibly.

      Chance kept eye contact and nodded. “Hurry up, I need those meds.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      Sir? She knew he didn’t like being called sir. Something was definitely wrong.

      He backed away from the van. The others were still busy with the injured patient. Rushing past them and outside, he started round the tent when he met Marco. In a low voice he told him that Ellen was in trouble and to give him to the count of ten then run inside the clinic, hollering for help. Marco nodded and Chance circled the outside of the tent until he could see the driver’s side van door. It stood open. He could make out the outline of a man in the seat with his back to the door and one leg on the running board. Dread seized him. The man must have a weapon on Ellen.

      Giving thanks for the storm brewing, which would cover any noise he made, Chance moved out to the edge of the clearing and followed it around until he was facing the front of the van. When the thunder rolled again Chance ran as fast as he could and slammed his body into the door. The man let out a startled yelp and twisted in the seat, reaching for his leg. Chance grabbed the door and swung it hard again. This time it hit the man in the head and he dropped to the ground, along with a knife.

      “Ellen!” Chance barked. “Ellen, are you okay?”

      “I’m fine.” She sounded shaken.

      Marco joined him. Chance left him to tie the vandal up while he climbed into the van. Looking over the seat, he saw Ellen still sitting on the floor, with her head in her hands. “Are you hurt?”

      She said nothing.

      He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Ellen, are you hurt? Did he cut you?”

      Slowly she looked up. “No.” She held up his keys. “And I didn’t let him get any drugs. Do I get atta-girl points?”

      “Hell, woman, I’d rather he’d had all the drugs than hurt you.”

      A stiff smile came to her lips. “Aw, you do care.” She looked away and a loud sniff filled the air.

      “What’s going on?” Michael called from the end of the van.

      “A guy was trying to steal drugs. Had Ellen at knifepoint,” Chance answered.

      Michael climbed in, went to Ellen and gathered her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest. For some reason Chance wished he was the one she had turned to. He left the van and spoke to Marco, who’d already tied the man up, but his thoughts were still with Ellen. The trespasser admitted that he was with the injured man Michael had been caring for. The injury had been a small self-inflicted wound and used as a diversion.

      The rest of the staff had to know what had happened in detail before they returned to packing up. Chance gave the short version on what he’d done before Ellen told her side. He was all too aware of Michael’s arm around her shoulders the entire time. Why shouldn’t she seek reassurance and comfort from him?

      Marco would see to it that the Honduran authorities picked up the man they had captured and looked for the other two. Little would be done to them because Honduras had larger drug problems than these petty thieves.

      Half an hour later it was dark and the trucks were loaded and ready to leave.

      “Ellen, come on up here,” Michael called from the cab of the truck. “I think you’re still a little shaken up.”

      “I’m okay back here.” She climbed in the rear with Karen and Peter.

      She was tough. Chance admired her for that. After those few minutes of emotion with Michael she’d joined in and helped store the supplies, acting as if nothing had happened.

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      That evening at dinner Chance watched as Michael stood and tapped his fork against a glass.

      “We have a few awards to give out tonight. First, to the great Dr. Freeman, for his heroic use of a van door to apprehend a drug dealer.” Michael grinned. “Well done, Chance.” He placed a second plate of dessert near him.

      Chance smiled and nodded. Why did Michael have to make a big deal of what happen?

      “And last but not least, to Dr. Ellen Cox, who held herself together under pressure and didn’t give up the key to the drug cabinet.” Michael held up his drink glass. The others joined him. A soft clinking of glass touching glass sounded around the room. “For you a flower.” He bowed as he presented her with a large orange Bird of Paradise.

      Ellen smiled but it didn’t quiet reach her eyes. Had she been and was she still more scared than she let on?

      “Chance

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