by Mills, Lisa
Manuel studied her for a moment in silence. “You didn’t do it on purpose. Accidents happen.”
His understanding attitude only increased Isabel’s guilt, and she compensated by talking too much. “I don’t know how you can be so calm. I’ve probably done irreparable damage to our trip. If we don’t have the supplies we need, how will we continue? Can we even get back to civilization? And how much is the lost equipment going to cost? We rented that stuff.”
Manuel silenced her with a finger to her lips. “We can’t change what’s done. Let’s focus on salvaging the situation. Help me tie the boats to that tree. We need to move away from the waterline before some crocodile decides we’re offering him lunch.”
Isabel gathered the mooring lines, scurried up the slight rise to the tree, and tied off the boats. When she looked back, she caught Manuel’s unguarded expression, and her heart withered. He was more disappointed than he’d let on, and she felt terrible about her blunder. In a careless moment, she had jeopardized an already crippled mission.
She slid back down the bank and laid her hand on his arm. “If it makes you feel better, yell at me or something. I’d swear this trip is cursed.”
He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You ready to give up yet?”
She thought about returning to Caracas and saying goodbye to him. Determination shot through her. “No. I’m ready to pull that boat out of the water and see if we can repair it.” She grabbed the line and pulled, making little impact on the submerged boat with her attempt.
Sighing, he grabbed the line and added his strength to hers.
After twenty minutes of tug-of-war with the river, they managed to reclaim the boat and its remaining contents. Isabel stared with dismay at the paltry leftovers of her cargo. “We’re not going to make it, are we?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
April 27, 1515
A bend in the river turned us toward the eastern horizon. We traveled east for several hours when a grand and glorious mountain filled the sky ahead of us. Unlike the jagged peaks of our last home, this mountain’s top has been sheared away, leaving a uniquely flattened summit. Fascinated, I followed a branch off the main river until we arrived at its base. There we discovered a small clearing surrounded by fruit trees, and a sparkling waterfall flows nearby. I sense that God himself has prepared this place for us. Here in the protective shadow of this great rock tower, we will make our dwelling.
Manuel knelt by the bow of Isabel’s bongo, finding it difficult to believe what he was seeing. Isabel thought her carelessness had caused the damage to her boat, but he could no longer blame her.
“Look at this.” He beckoned her to his side and pointed at the cleanly cut lines around the hole. “Someone used a knife or saw to cut almost through the boat. The damage is low enough that a person wouldn’t notice it while the boat was in the water.”
“You’re saying this is sabotage?”
“Afraid so.”
She shuddered. “Why is someone trying to kill me, Manuel?”
“I wish I knew.” He took her hand in his and tried to reassure her with his touch.
“Can you fix it?”
“Even if I could fix the boat—and I don’t think I can—the trip is hopeless. Half the equipment we need sank into the river, and we can’t retrieve it because of the crocs and piranhas. We might as well go home.”
“Please, Manuel, can’t we even try?”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “We knew the Amazon was the least likely location of the three. That’s why we put it at the end of the list.”
“But we’re so close. The waterfall we’re looking for couldn’t be more than a few hours upriver.” She stared up at him, a desperate look in her blue eyes.
He couldn’t resist her when she turned those eyes on him. He looked away.
Isabel persisted. “Whoever is orchestrating these accidents wants us to give up and go home. I don’t intend to give them the satisfaction. Let’s go on.”
He shook his head. “You’re being unreasonable. We can’t haul all this gear and two people in one bongo. We’d have to set up camp here and paddle upriver each morning, then return by nightfall. It’d make for long, exhausting days.”
Isabel moved closer to him and slid her arms around his waist. “We can do it, Manuel. We should do it. We’d never forgive ourselves if we didn’t at least try.”
He sighed, knowing she was using her feminine wiles against him and not caring in the least. He’d do almost anything to prolong their trip together. She’d become precious to him. Her sleepy morning smiles. Her enthusiasm. Her support and admiration of his work.
“All right. Tomorrow morning after breakfast we’ll make a trip upriver and see what we can find. But I’m only committing to one day at a time. We lost half our fresh water and some of our food when the bongo sank. We can only stay as long as our supplies hold out.”
She grinned, looking triumphant at her victory. Funny, he didn’t mind falling victim to her at all. Making her happy or gaining one of those brilliant smiles left him feeling slightly intoxicated. She was addictive, and he didn’t mind being under her power. Could he say goodbye to her once the trip ended?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“We’ve reached another fork in the river. Which way now?” Isabel let the paddle droop across her lap and dug her fingers into her stiff shoulder muscles. Each morning for a week, they’d risen early and paddled up river, systematically searching the waterways for a sign of the location Rodrigo had mentioned. Though they had the corro in their sights, finding Rodrigo’s former camp had proved difficult. Because of the tremendous rainfall in the region—nearly 200 inches a year—a labyrinth of streams, creeks, and rivers criss-crossed the region. Rodrigo could have followed any one of them.
Manuel lifted the map and studied the maze of blue waterways. “I don’t know. At this point I’m just glad we’re not completely lost.”
“You sound discouraged.”
He sighed. “We hired the guides for a reason. These waterways are impossible to navigate from a map. Who’s to say the map is even right? The land floods yearly, and the waterways may emerge from the wet season in completely different patterns than the year before.”
Isabel refused to be discouraged. “We’ve narrowed the search area to a few square miles. It’s just a matter of persistence.”
Manuel sighed. “Your optimism is admirable, but you know that’s not exactly true. We might paddle right past Rodrigo’s village and never know it. The building materials they used back then would have decomposed centuries ago, and the jungle would have reclaimed the land. Unless someone is still living there, it’s probably gone.”
Isabel turned and studied the majestic outline of the corro. Blue sky outlined the russet tower of stone. The view inspired her with confidence, and she understood why Rodrigo would want to live in its shadow. “We have a few hours of daylight left. Let’s search a while longer.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Manuel sat in a canvas chair and watched Isabel move around the camp, tidying up after their meal. Just before dinner, she’d washed her hair in a small stream nearby. Afterward, she let it hang loose around her shoulders to dry. When she knelt to return the dishes to their storage space, her hair slid across her face. Lifting a delicate hand, she smoothed the strands behind her ear in a gesture both feminine and alluring. His breath snagged in his chest. He enjoyed watching her. Her natural grace and womanly softness appealed to him.
There was a lot about her he found appealing.
He never thought to see a woman so at ease with his lifestyle, but she had remained content throughout the trip, as if born for the life he could offer her. She hadn’t uttered a single complaint at “roughing it,” foregoing creature comforts that most women deemed necessities … like a bathroom and a kitchen. In fact, she seemed to enjoy the challenges.
God, was I wrong when I abandoned hope of ever marrying?
After two relationships failed due to the unusual demands of his car
eer, Manuel assumed marriage was a lost cause. Giving up his desire for a wife and children seemed more practical than continuing his search for a woman who could accept his ambitions. Thinking back, he realized he’d never prayed about that decision. His wounded heart made the choice seem obvious at the time.
Now that he wanted to change his mind, his career wasn’t the problem. His mother’s financial situation was. He might spend years working to free her from debt. He couldn’t ask a woman like Isabel to join him in that prison sentence. They would have to live in his mother’s home, and any income earned would go to the farm. He couldn’t imagine Isabel happy in that life. The strain of dealing with his family’s problems would make her bitter toward him and destroy any hope of happiness.
No matter how much he wanted her, he wouldn’t ask her to consider it. She deserved so much better. Still, everything inside him ached to have her. He’d give up anything— anything but my promise to my mother.
His stomach knotted. Their search for the area near a waterfall Rodrigo mentioned had proved fruitless. Maybe their failure was a good thing. He needed to put some distance between himself and Isabel before he gave in to temptation. Honoring his word would have to come first.
Twenty-Two
Two nights later, Isabel collapsed into a chair, every muscle in her body limp with exhaustion from the arduous work they’d done that day. Their efforts had proved fruitless. She tried not to let disappointment weigh her down, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that they’d come to the end of their mission. Time had run out along with most of their resources, and they would have to return home in a few days.
Strong, warm hands slid onto her shoulders and began to massage away the aching tension accumulated there. She closed her eyes, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping her lips. His fingers moved up the back of her neck and down her arms, relaxing the muscles and electrifying her skin with his touch.
After several minutes, she tipped her head back and gave him a lazy smile. “That feels wonderful, Manuel. How did you know I needed it?”
He bent and brushed his lips across her forehead before taking the seat beside her. “The scrunched up way you held your shoulders half the day gave me a clue.”
His playful smile relaxed her further, and she batted her lashes in his direction. “Well, thank you for being so observant.”
He settled in his chair, crossing one foot over his knee and lacing his fingers behind his head. With heavy-lidded eyes, he stared into the growing darkness around their campsite.
Isabel sensed that something troubled him, but she hadn’t the energy to pry it out of him. She leaned her head against her chair and absorbed the tranquility of the rain forest. Howler monkeys called to one another in the high canopy of trees while tropical birds sang their final song of the evening. The fragrance of the abundant plant life tickled her nose as she drew a deep, contented breath. During their weeks in the rain forest, she’d come to wonder if Adam and Eve had enjoyed such a paradise. She couldn’t imagine a setting more beautiful or more enjoyable companionship with which to share it.
Her gaze came to rest on Manuel’s profile, and the tightness surrounding his eyes interrupted her pleasant thoughts. “What is it, Manuel?”
He met her probing gaze and offered her a gentle smile. “I was just thinking maybe it’s time we went home. I don’t think we’re going to find what we’re looking for.”
Though reluctant, she nodded her agreement. “We’ve both known for a while. I suppose it’s time we admitted defeat.”
“I’m sorry, Isabel. I really thought we had a chance.”
Isabel sat in silence, grieving the sudden death of their shared dream. But more, she ached for Manuel. Adventure and history had fueled her interest in the project, but he had much more at stake. His future hinged on their success or failure. “What will you do when we return to Caracas?”
He reached out and grasped her hand. “I suppose I’ll sell my car and most of my possessions and buy a bus ticket to my mother’s farm. I can’t put it off any longer. She needs me, and I’m not making any progress in the archaeology field. Part of me thinks this is God’s way of telling me I wasn’t meant to be an archaeologist.”
She squeezed his hand. “You are an archaeologist, Manuel. I’ve been so impressed with your knowledge and professionalism.”
“Does that mean you’ll write me a letter of recommendation?”
His wry smile pierced her heart. She could tell he was trying to hide his feelings. To address the subject of their relationship now would seem selfish in light of all he was losing. Reluctantly, she smothered the questions she wanted to ask him.
Yawning, Manuel stood and pulled her to her feet. “I’m going to turn in now. How about you?”
“I might stay up a while and read over the journal. Maybe I’ll see something we missed.”
“Don’t waste your time.”
Even in the dim light she could see his grim expression. “The journal entries are fascinating and romantic. I’ll enjoy reading them regardless of whether or not they yield a clue.”
“Don’t stay up too late. The journey home won’t be easy.”
They gazed at one another, Isabel feeling loathe to end the pleasant day together. Her eyes traveled over his face, taking in the features she had come to know so well. His mustache needed trimming, and he’d not shaved since half their supplies sank into the Orinoco River. His hair was unkempt after a day of hard labor, his clothes mussed and wrinkled, yet Isabel thought he looked more handsome than ever.
As if noticing her scrutiny, he ran a hand over his face and hair. “I know I need to visit the barber.”
She lifted a hand to touch his dark, silky hair, now long from weeks without a haircut. “I think you’re very handsome.”
He shivered at her touch, and his expression changed to one of need. Pulling her close, he claimed her lips with a gentle hunger that made her stomach flutter wildly. When the kiss ended, he held her tight in his embrace for long moments, his chin resting atop her head. “You’ve become very precious to me, Isabel. When I have more to offer you—”
He released her, swallowed convulsively, and with a tortured look, retreated to the seclusion of his tent.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Isabel closed the flap on the larger work tent and lit the kerosene lamp they sometimes used at night. Taking the journal from its case, she held it in her lap and studied its rustic beauty. She hadn’t looked at the book for over a month. The working copy was easier to understand and saved wear and tear on the original, but Isabel preferred the journal to their fancy translation. The worn leather cover and yellowed pages penned in elegant script best portrayed the beauty of the love between Rodrigo and Karwa. She heaved a deep sigh. Their love had been a rare and priceless treasure, worth more than any pearls. Rodrigo had realized that and walked away from a promising career, wealth, and a comfortable life in order to be with the woman he loved.
Isabel wondered if Manuel had ever considered making such a sacrifice for her. But their circumstances were different. He seemed to feel he had nothing to offer a woman, so he denied himself the opportunity to love Isabel in order to protect her from his financial struggles. In their situation, Manuel was slave to his finances and Isabel was the one who would have to give up position and security to be with him. Perhaps, Manuel had too much machismo to ask it of her. Or maybe he didn’t love her the way Rodrigo had loved Karwa.
No. She’d seen the love in Manuel’s eyes and heard it in his voice. He’d even slipped and blurted his feelings for her during the heated argument with Raúl. She suspected he cared more than he would allow himself to admit. Rodrigo and Karwa’s romantic tale offered her hope. They had overcome seemingly impossible odds, so maybe she and Manuel would find a way.
Returning her focus to the journal, she opened the cover. The leather seemed stiff and refused to open fully. She heard a soft popping sound and stared with dismay at the break in the stitching.
Manuel will be upset with
me.
She lifted the journal and studied the damage. The journal’s cover consisted of two pieces of leather sewn together with a sinewy cord, probably catgut or other natural material. Apparently, the cord had weakened over time and her carelessness had snapped it. The release of tension caused the torn ends of the cord to pull away from one another, slipping out of several holes of stitching and leaving a gap of nearly an inch.
I can probably find someone who specializes in restoration to repair the damage. As she turned the book this way and that studying the break, she noticed the tiniest speck of white protruding from the gap.
What’s that?
Grasping the edge with her fingernails, she gave a soft tug and the corner of a slip of paper emerged from the break. There’s a piece of paper in here!
Her heart beat a heavy rhythm as she pulled out several inches of the stitching that held the pieces of leather together. After she widened the gap, she freed the hidden note. Laying it on the table next to the lamp, she studied the words written in Rodrigo’s familiar handwriting. Excitement stole the breath from her lungs.
This is it!
She let herself out of the main tent and hurried to where Manuel had staked his smaller pup tent. Crouching beside the opening, she called to him in a hushed voice. “Manuel. Manuel!” The soft, steady drone of his snoring answered her.
Remembering her own exhaustion, she decided to save the exciting news for the morning. Besides, in the light of day, she could get a better look at his face when she told him she knew where to find the pearls. Returning to the journal, she pulled out a notepad and pen and began translating the words that would lead them to the treasure.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Isabel stepped outside the tent and kneaded the horrible kink in her back. She had fallen asleep in the main tent, slumped over the makeshift worktable. Thankfully, the lamp had guttered out while she slept and didn’t cause a fire. She wouldn’t mention her carelessness to Manuel. She glanced at his tent and heard his steady snoring.
