She glanced over at Sanders. She wanted to check him out, but Rick slept next to him, and some instinct told her if she approached, he’d wake up. The captain looked incredibly relaxed, peaceful. Interestingly, he looked younger too. It made her realize how intense and focused he looked every waking moment. She wondered how much more the burden of not one but two wounded men weighed on him. It also made her wonder about the kind of man he was outside of a combat environment. Did he relax? What did he consider a fun, leisure activity?

Swanson approached and held out a canteen. “Water, Doc?”

“Yes, thank you.”

As she handed the canteen back to him, the first raindrop hit her hand. Moving quickly, she spread the poncho she’d set aside over Ozzy and then started to help Sanders, but he’d already covered himself and Rick. Just as the rain let loose, Swanson knelt next to her and covered them both with his poncho.

“Thanks,” she said, glad she didn’t have to ride out the deluge without protection. “It won’t last long.”

He looked up. “We’ve been in country for about a month. I don’t think a day has gone by that it hasn’t rained.”

“Kinda helps make sense of the term ‘rain forest,’ doesn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Better than Fort Benning any day. And anything’s better than the desert.”

She looked around at the lush leaves of the jungle, the bright pink-and-white-striped flower blooming from a bush, the banana tree bulging with fruit. She could hear the river roaring not far away and thought about the images she’d seen of places like Iraq and Afghanistan. “I imagine it’s much different from the desert,” she said. “I think I’d like this better too.”

His eyes moved around, shining from his dark face. “Except those monkeys. Those critters wig me out, man.”

With a chuckle she said, “I used to be afraid they’d climb into my hut at night. It took me weeks to sleep. But it was so hot in my hut with the windows shut. Finally, I just couldn’t take it anymore and opened them.”

“They ever get in?”

“Nah. They just yell at us for invading their space. They have no desire to invade ours.”

He shook his head. “One threw a banana at me.”

She laughed. “You must have been in his spot.”

“Right. So, what if I’m sleeping in his spot?”

“I guess you’d want to move. You never know what they’re going to throw.” She’d noticed his accent before, but their time had been spent with more important things. Now she asked, “Where are you from, Sergeant Swanson?”

“Northern Virginia. Alexandria.”

“That right? I’m from McLean.”

“Ah, a Virginia girl. We played McLean teams in basketball. Went head-to-head with one of the schools for state my sophomore year.”