by Rula Sinara
He was also a family friend of Dr. Hope and of Dr. Anna Bekker, the vet who’d founded the famous Busara Elephant Research and Rescue camp dedicated to rescuing baby elephants orphaned by poachers.
Mac had been instrumental in helping transport supplies to the clinic and he often flew Hope out. He’d also helped Lexi transition to the area during her initial weeks here. Even Taj hitched a ride with Mac whenever he could, to cut on commute time. Mac had a way of being everywhere and helping everyone.
“What if you end up with a complication in childbirth?” Jacey continued.
“You have a knack for putting things in such a reassuring way.” Lexi laughed. She knew Jacey meant well, though.
Lexi shifted back into a normal seated position and tugged her shirt over her belly. She was going to need something bigger very soon. Or perhaps she could get one of those giant shuka shawls the Masai wore and just drape it around herself. Come to think of it, maybe she should market the idea for maternity wear. “What if you stopped worrying so much? I go into Nairobi regularly for prenatal appointments and I take my vitamins. Heaven knows my diet out here with all the fruit, vegetables and whole grains is better than what I’d probably be eating if I had a grocery store around the corner. And between Hope coming out and you and Taj here, I’ll be fine. If a complication develops, I’ll head to the hospital. Promise.”
Truth was, she felt more comfortable out here giving birth naturally than in an overcrowded, underfunded hospital. And as illogical as she knew it to be, hospitals reminded her of death...of the last way she’d seen Tony. She needed to be as far away from that as possible.
“Fine. If you say so,” Jacey said, reknotting her hair at the base of her neck.
The grinding whir of a chopper broke up the chattering symphony of wildlife outside.
“Were we expecting Mac today?” Lexi asked, easing up from the chair and heading past Jacey.
Jacey stood and trotted after her. “Maybe it’s just KWS flying by.” The Kenyan Wildlife Service did pass over often enough, but they never sounded this close.
“Nope, it’s Mac.” Lexi shielded her eyes from the stab of late-afternoon sun and watched as Taj headed over to meet Mac.
Lexi and Jacey followed suit, waving as Mac got out of his chopper.
“You can only land here if you have ice cream on board,” Lexi called out.
Mac grinned and adjusted his cap.
“No luck, Lex. You should have warned me. How are you doing?” he asked, meeting them halfway.
“Excellent,” Lexi exaggerated. She appreciated all the concern but sometimes it got to be too much. It made her feel as if the pregnancy weakened her or made her more vulnerable. She didn’t like that idea. Plus, while she knew they meant well, she’d taken care of herself for so long she wasn’t comfortable with that much attention. She was self-sufficient and determined to be just fine. Why couldn’t everyone just stop worrying?
Mac gave a nod then braced his hands on his hips. His forehead creased and he scratched his jaw as he looked at all three of them.
“There’s word from KWS that they’ve had a few poaching incidents just southwest of here. They believe one of the poachers was injured before the group escaped. He might target the clinic, looking for supplies. Ben asked me to check on you and give you guys a heads-up. He couldn’t make it out here himself because of his broken leg. Another three weeks with that cast, according to Hope. She must have the patience of a saint. Two stir-crazy marines under one roof.”
After meeting Hope in the US and falling in love with her, Ben had moved to Nairobi with his children—Maddie, Chad and Ryan. He’d married Hope and founded a group that used ex-marines to help train KWS in security and methods for combatting poachers. Ben and Hope also had a child together, Philip. Chad was the only one who’d followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the marines, though.
“Well, Hope can always come here if she needs a break. Kick Taj out and we can make it a girls’ night off the grid,” Jacey said.
“Joking aside, does Ben think we’re in danger?” Lexi asked.
“No one’s been by here.” Taj frowned at Lexi and Jacey.
Lexi shook her head in agreement. “No sign of anything unusual. I don’t think the poacher would be stupid enough to come here for medical help,” she said.
“Hopefully not, but desperate people do desperate things,” Mac said.
Was she desperate? Was that why she’d chosen a life out here, as off the grid as possible? Desperate to cling to the future she’d planned with Tony or desperate to escape reminders of their life together back in the States? She pushed away those thoughts. Mac wasn’t talking about her.
“We’ll be careful, as usual,” Lexi said. “If anything suspicious is noted, you’ll hear about it. But I assure you, in the five months I’ve been here, life has been pretty routine. Not even a lion has checked out the place. Too much activity is my guess.”
“And doesn’t being near the Masai Mara ward the poachers off? I thought the area was protected.” Jacey folded her arms as if she’d put an end to the discussion.
“Technically the area is protected, but plenty of poachers find routes through the Mara. It’s true this particular group wasn’t close to the clinic, but it’s close enough to give you guys a heads-up. More eyes never hurt. And like I said, one of the poachers is injured and desperate. Combine that with access to a clinic... You do the math.”
“I’m sure he’d be more likely to head for the Tanzanian border than here,” Taj said.
Mac squinted at the sun and adjusted his cap.
“Maybe. But we can’t assume. The KWS have teams scouting the area approaching the border. No sign yet. But Hope and Ben are worried. This area has always been relatively safe and well monitored by Ben, but his crew is smaller than it used to be. Plus, he’s grounded with his broken leg and KWS is having to concentrate its efforts farther south. You understand he and Hope are preoccupied now with Chad, too, so Hope is considering shutting down the clinic, at least until they know it’s safe enough.”
Lexi’s chest tightened and she felt the baby kick. Shutting down the clinic? Leaving here would mean failing Tony, his relatives and the tribes they’d both sworn to help. She didn’t have the means to start a clinic on her own from scratch.
And for the first time in her life she finally felt like she was where she was meant to be. This was her life.
If she thought for a second they were truly in danger, especially her baby, she’d leave, but there was nothing in Mac’s report that warranted uprooting her life again or robbing the locals of needed medical care. She braced her hands on her disappearing waist.
“Wait a minute. They can’t shut this place down. We’re a necessity to the people of this area. The children need medical access. There have been no reports of poaching or dangerous people around here. A shutdown of the clinic is not warranted. Besides, Ben trained us in using the tranquilizer gun. Sure, it’s meant for dangerous animals bold enough to wander into our midst, but it would work just the same on a human. We’re fine,” Lexi said.
“I’m just letting you know it’s a possibility. And, for the record, poachers are bold and dangerous predators. If you weren’t pregnant when you first moved out here, I would have taken you to see evidence of just how ruthless they are. Your stomach wouldn’t have been able to handle the stench of the rotting elephant carcasses or the sight of their faces gone in the name of ivory and their orphaned calves standing near them. These men are pure evil.”
Lexi’s stomach twisted at the thought of a calf witnessing its mother’s murder. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She’d heard that elephants grieved deeply, too.
“Is this a ploy to scare me and get me to go back to the city because I’m pregnant?”
“This isn’t a joke, Lex. The truth is we’ve all lived with the realities of poaching. That�
�s why we have KWS and other groups constantly hunting them down and tracking evidence of their activities. We’ve all got homes in remote areas. I’m not saying you can’t stay here. The Mara and the area just south of it is full of tourists and campers. It’s usually safe enough, if you know how to handle the wildlife. But, like I said, the reason you specifically are at a higher level of risk is that this is a clinic and one of the poachers is injured. You have medicine that a wounded criminal might need badly enough to take the risk of attacking you.”
“Honestly,” Jacey said, “I can look out for things when Taj isn’t here. It doesn’t take a man, you know.”
Jacey was ex-army. She was pretty fearless and could kick butt if she had to. Lexi didn’t doubt she could protect them and the clinic. She’d seen the surprising amount of weight Jacey’s petite body could lift.
Mac held up his hands.
“No comment,” he said. “I wouldn’t dare challenge you two. But I will say that you also have a baby to consider. Ben and Hope just want to ensure that anyone working here is safe. Not just because it’s a liability issue, but because they care. Ben figured you’d want to stay, so he’s looking into finding security personnel to be stationed here full-time until KWS locates the escaped poacher.”
Lexi frowned. Full time security? Was she underestimating how dangerous things were?
“Is the situation that serious, Mac?”
“As I said, we’re just being careful. One of the KWS patrols used a thermal imager to sweep the area. They didn’t pick up any suspicious heat signatures in a three-kilometer radius of the clinic, so for now, you can stay put. All we’re saying is keep your radar up.”
Lexi was able to breathe again.
“Okay, then. He’ll find someone to help keep the place secure, for everyone’s peace of mind, and everything will be fine,” she said, looking at both Jacey and Taj, but she really needed to hear the words to reassure herself.
“You’ll know soon if they find someone. Hope told me she’s planning to fly out Friday. I’ll be dropping her off.”
“Then I can get a ride back with you on Friday instead of driving the jeep?” Taj asked. “This news about the poacher makes me want to stay here, but the hospital will be expecting me. Maybe things will have settled by then.”
“Sure, I can fly you out. The rest remains to be seen,” Mac said. “I’m out of here for now. I’d like to make it to Jamba-Walker before dusk. Be on alert.”
Taj folded his arms and Lexi almost missed the subtle nod and silent exchange between him and Mac.
She had to admit, she admired their sense of honor and appreciated their desire to protect. She really did. But she’d looked out for herself her entire life. She didn’t need rescuing now. Her maternal instincts only made her tougher—after all, her baby came first. But there were other children here whose lives and well-being depended on her and this clinic. She couldn’t abandon them. She owed them the same care she’d want for her child. Taj glanced at her and pressed his lips together. He understood. She knew he did.
“Lexi’s right,” he said. “We may be in the middle of nowhere, but we have Masai enkangs in all directions and other tribal villages. There are eyes everywhere. The poacher won’t risk it.”
“Let’s hope that’s the case. I didn’t mean to come down hard on you guys. I’ve just lived here a long time and I’ve seen things I’ll never be able to unsee,” Mac said, looking pointedly at Lexi.
“I get it. Thanks, Mac. For the heads-up on everything. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that this clinic is important,” Lexi said.
“No worries. I’ll let Ben know things are okay here for now. I’ll be in touch.” He waved and turned for his chopper.
Taj put his arm out to usher Lexi and Jacey back to the camp and a safe distance from the helicopter. They watched as Mac’s chopper lifted and disappeared over a copse of fig and mango trees.
“Time to cook,” Taj said, scrubbing at his jaw and scowling at the ground as he headed toward the bungalow.
But Lexi put a hand on his arm. “You can’t fool me. I know that look. Do. Not. Worry. Like he said, poachers have plagued the region forever and have never bothered the clinic. These spottings are no different from ones we’ve heard before. Like you said, we’re surrounded by Masai enkangs and farmland. We essentially have an army of warriors with spears around us. What more protection could you want?” Lexi said.
“You haven’t been here long enough,” Taj replied.
“I’m an army veteran, Taj. I can shoot better than you, I’m sure, and I’ve been known to take down men twice my size,” Jacey reminded him. With her gorgeous features and long hair, it was easy to forget that Jacey was a highly trained fighter.
Lexi looped her arm in Jacey’s.
“See, Taj? We women have ourselves covered. Think Amazon warriors,” Lexi said.
Taj raised a brow at her and glanced at her very pregnant belly.
“This isn’t the Amazon.”
No, it wasn’t. This was Africa. Kenya’s Serengeti region. And even if fighting poachers was a war unto itself, at least it wasn’t a military war zone in the traditional sense. This wasn’t the front lines of Afghanistan or Iraq or any other war-torn country. Her child would grow up—at least during his or her younger years—without being bombarded by depressing, heart-wrenching news from television and every form of social media, including phones.
It had seemed impossible to escape from it all when she was back in the States. She didn’t want her kid influenced by combat video games or pressure to serve. She needed to protect her child...to keep him or her from ending up like Tony.
He’d been counting the days until his service ended so that they could get on with their plans in Kenya. She believed in her gut that he wouldn’t have wanted his child enlisting, as he had. He’d mentioned once that if they ever had kids, he’d want to make sure they were connected to both sides of their heritage. That they would understand and respect their heritage.
Lexi wanted to stay at the clinic for him...for their child. And she didn’t need to draw strength from anyone else to get it done. She’d spent her entire life proving she was capable. A survivor. She laid a hand on her belly, squared her shoulders and looked pointedly at Taj.
“I’m tougher than you think I am,” she said. The baby fisted her side, as if in protest. She cupped the tiny fist in her hand as if silencing any argument.
I am more than fine. You will be, too. You’ll see.
But the image of the orphaned elephant standing beside its mother’s remains had struck a nerve. And, for the first time in a long time, a tiny, buried part of her felt almost vulnerable...and made her wonder just how strong she really was.
CHAPTER TWO
VIOLENT PAIN SEARED Chad’s right arm like a branding iron burning its way clear to the bone. Instinct had him grasping for his arm, desperate to stop the agony, but his left hand rammed against his right rib cage. He reached again, squeezing his eyes against the pain and swatting air before hitting his shoulder.
“No!” He fisted his hair and cursed a stream of words he only ever used around fellow marines on the battlefield—never in his parents’ home.
He forced himself to look at his side...to remind him that a wrapped stump was all that was left of his right arm. This time, the visual didn’t help to bring him under control.
He covered his face with his one hand and took deep breaths until the phantom pain subsided enough for him to stand. He walked across his old bedroom to where a half-empty glass of water sat on his wooden dresser. He took a long drink, a ritual he’d adopted to train his mind to stay grounded in the here and now. Pain like that had a way of weakening even the toughest warrior. It coaxed his mind into dark places. Sometimes it took him back to that day.
He walked over to the window, pressed his forehead against the cool glass, and looked out
at the yard below. The flowering vines climbing the garden walls were more lush and dense than he remembered. Even the fig tree that flanked that far side of the grassy area had grown since he’d last been in Nairobi. A beautiful, serene and deceptively safe haven. That’s what “home” was now. An illusion. A false sense of security. There was nothing safe or beautiful about the world. War and evil were insidious.
They’d left a permanent mark on him—and taken him out of the fight.
They’d neutralized him and the realization that there was nothing he could do about it drove him mad. He would never fight again and that made him feel like a man trapped behind bars, unable to do anything but watch and scream while criminals tortured helpless people. He wasn’t supposed to be the helpless one.
He’d heard of injured vets, even minor amputees, getting permission to reenlist, though they were often reassigned to more “appropriate” jobs. But first they had to be cleared by a psych test to be sound of mind, free of post-traumatic stress and not suffering from debilitating phantom pain.
He failed all three of those qualifications. Six-and-a-half months since the blast and still suffering.
He turned and stood in front of the intricately carved wood mirror that hung over his dresser. Twisted, dark-pink burn scars wrapped around half of his back and up the right side of his neck. Quarter-inch scars mottled his right cheek where surgeons had removed embedded debris. It was a miracle he still had his eyes. Though sometimes he wondered if that was its own form of torture.
Here he was at twenty-four, supposedly the prime of his life, and he was this. He was—had been—right-handed. He’d lost his dominance in more ways than one. But he still had his sight, just so that he could wake up every morning and be met with the monster that was left of him. Just so that he could see the looks of pity on the faces of others. Sometimes he wished he’d never woken up from the medically induced coma he’d been kept in for weeks. Everyone kept saying he was lucky that he’d recovered, for the most part, from the traumatic brain injury he’d also suffered in the blast.
