Love Takes Root: A contemporary romance novella

by Natasha Brown

  “Go ahead, he isn’t going to introduce you to his pet tarantula…I don’t think.” Miles chuckled at the look on her face.

  Around the entry of the home, an intricately carved piece of wood framed the length of the doorway. It depicted a village, homes and trees layering the landscape. Miles watched as she traced her fingers along its contours before she stepped inside.

  “Awesome, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Kara nodded and answered in a low voice, “The craftsmanship is amazing.”

  “It’s Pedro’s father’s work. I’m a fan of Andrés’s. In fact—” He pulled out a carved mahogany pendant of a water drop fastened to a leather cord from under his shirt. “He made this for me.”

  Pedro rushed up, interrupting them, and pulled her farther inside the home. Miles translated what the little boy said, “Meet my mother, Sebella.”

  Pedro let go of her hand to run up beside a woman standing next to a rickety table while she made tortillas. Beside her, on an adobe surface, a small fire burned beneath a square piece of iron. She placed an uncooked tortilla onto it. Pedro reached for one of the finished products, and his mother swatted his wrist. In thick accented Spanish, she scolded him. “You already ate. That’s for lunch.”

  Kara reached out to shake the woman’s hand. “Hola, Sebella.”

  Sebella offered a tentative smile to the stranger. From behind Kara, Miles said, “Hello, Sebella, I am happy to find you well. Is Andrés busy in the field?”

  “He’s somewhere outside—either with the crop or his carvings.” Sebella turned to her son and asked him, “Why are you here when you should be getting ready for school? And who is this woman you’ve brought into my home?”

  Pedro held his hands out to his mother. “Smell them. They are clean. The woman brought us soap to use. She gave a pile to teacher Armando for all of us. I wanted to give her something too.”

  Sebella wiped her hands off on a cloth and pressed her palms into her hips. She shook her head and said to Miles, “That boy is filled with kindness. I wonder if it’s too much for his own good.”

  “I think he’ll do well, Sebella. He’s got a good head on his shoulders,” he answered.

  While the conversation moved on without a contribution from Kara, he noticed she didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t know what they were discussing. Instead, she was observing the basic contents of the home and looking up at the darkened leaves above the cooking area that formed the roof.

  Pedro walked over to one side of the room and picked up something small. He placed the item in Kara’s hands, who cupped it carefully between her fingers. “Pedro, did you make this? It’s beautiful—muy hermosa!”

  Miles stepped closer to get a better view and saw that she was holding a small carved figure of a man’s head. “Is your father teaching you how to carve wood?”

  The boy’s brown eyes focused on him. His russet cheeks deepened to a dark red as he lifted his chest in pride. “Yes, Father’s been showing me how to use his tools. But I only get to practice on small pieces of wood since it’s so hard getting it here to the house.”

  “What’s he saying?” Kara asked, now quite interested in what was being said.

  Miles explained that Pedro’s father was known for his carvings and that he’d been showing his son the trade. “They need wood for cooking fires mostly, but Andrés tries making extra money doing the trade his father taught him, although it’s not worth much around here. Each family may not cut down many trees, but together, the rainforests are disappearing because of it. Some try to sell it to make a little money, and loggers come in to buy up all of their mahogany. Wood’s becoming a precious commodity here.”

  “Right,” was all Kara said. She turned to Pedro and squeezed his shoulder. “Muchas gracias.”

  Ever since he’d met her, they’d had the shortest conversations he’d ever experienced. Did she know how this worked, that you continued back and forth with comments and questions? Either she was totally inexperienced at talking like normal people do, or she didn’t care about any of it. Miles reminded himself that he only had to get through five more days.

  He hadn’t seen her approach, but Pedro’s little sister, Lily, had appeared next to them and grabbed Kara’s hand. Miles could see the surprise etched on Kara’s face, then the slow blush that touched her cheeks. At least an adorable child could reach her heart.

  With the carving clutched to her chest and Lily beside her, Kara took a step toward the doorway. “Adiós, Sebella. Gracias.”

  “I’ll make sure Pedro gets to school. The others should be there by now,” Miles promised Sebella as he followed Kara and the children outside. Pedro glanced at him with downcast eyes and slumped shoulders. Miles told him, “School’s more important than flirting with a pretty woman. Kara and I need to get going anyway.”

  The whole way back to Maria’s house, everyone remained quiet. Lily didn’t let go of Kara’s hand, and Pedro keep shooting Miles resentful looks. He knew the boy would get over it with time. After all, once Miles finished the outhouse, there’d be something new to get excited about, and the American woman who’d taught him how to make bubbles would be a distant memory.

  When they arrived at the largest of the adobe buildings, many villagers were milling around, including all of Armando’s students. Other kids Pedro’s age called him over, and they huddled around something on the ground.

  The schoolteacher’s face brightened and then grew serious when he asked Miles, “Will you be taking the nice American woman away now?”

  “We really need to get going if we’re going to reach El Punto before nightfall.”

  “That is what I thought. If you are sure you have to go—she should know that she is welcome back any time.” Armando motioned to the children, who scurried to make a circle around Kara. One of them stepped forward and handed her a folded piece of paper. From where Miles stood, he could read, Thank you for the soap, written in Spanish.

  Kara opened the handmade card. Signatures decorated every inch of space on the paper. Miles cleared his throat. “They are thanking you for the soap and want you to know you’re welcome back any time.”

  “I figured it out,” she said and responded to everyone in earshot, “Muchas gracias.” Then she offered Armando a hug, and his cheeks turned a deep rose.

  Maria stood by her doorway piling up their sleeping bags, their backpacks and Kara’s suitcase. In her hands, she held two corn-husk-wrapped shapes.

  “Are those your chicken tamales? You know how to spoil me, Maria,” Miles said and accepted the food.

  He carefully lifted his heavy, tool-filled backpack over his shoulder, and before Kara could get a chance, he grasped the handle of her suitcase. Miles avoided eye contact when he felt her gaze on him. She hugged their hostess and picked up her own pack and the sleeping bags, still holding the carved figure and handmade card.

  What appeared to be the entire village followed them all the way up the trail to the patchy road and his car. Miles fumbled to pull the keys from his pocket before unlocking the sedan. He returned his tools to the back, then lifted Kara’s suitcase, which he put in with care. He set their lunch on the passenger seat and started the engine.

  Kara placed her pack and the sleeping bags on the backseat, then opened the passenger door. She put the food on her lap and buckled up. Miles slipped on his aviator glasses and rolled down the windows to say goodbye to the villagers. Then he turned to her and said, “Well, Hot Lips, time to get going.”

  They hadn’t driven more than a minute down the road before Kara surprised him. “Our schedule might be tight, but we’re coming back.”

  Miles couldn’t stifle his snicker. “What do you mean? Did you forget something?”

  She brushed a lock of brown hair from her eyes and said with conviction, “Bamboo could help them in so many ways. I’ve been trying to work it out, and I think it’s possible.”

  “But I was under the impression Quebrada de Aqua was too small for your project. I thought y
ou needed at least two hundred and fifty square hectares of land for planting bamboo?”

  Kara rested her elbow on the door, then settled her fingers against her forehead. “There’s no way around that. I need a large enough footprint for study. Jim has some large retailers eager to put money into the project, like six figures, so we have to do this pragmatically. They want to see results—no one wants to sink money and PR into something that doesn’t have a good track record. The only way for me to get this off the ground is to do it right.”

  Miles gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles paling under the pressure. “Bureaucracy, isn’t it great? And you think you’re in charge. I can tell you’re new at this.”

  He felt Kara’s eyes on him, and he turned to meet her gaze. His chest tightened at the sight of her. Shocked at his body’s response, he looked away.

  The softness of her voice surprised him. “You’re right, I’m new at all of this. I’ve never left the country—I don’t even like leaving my house. I am scared out of my mind going out of my comfort zone and the safety of my living room. But I see a solution to a growing problem, and I’m not going to give up until I see things change. I wasn’t even sure if Honduras would work as a flagship location because of the issue I ran into getting my hands on a large enough supply of bamboo and getting it delivered. I spent four weeks just communicating with everyone and their mother, and no one seemed to be able to help. Your village nearly didn’t have a chance, but somehow a week ago I found a source in country, avoiding the customs fiasco. I can see just how much these people need, and it’s frustrating. Some fresh water and bamboo won’t solve all of their problems, but it’s a place to start, don’t you think?”

  Miles wanted to be able to shoot her down, to come back with a snarky answer. But he couldn’t. She’d effectively silenced and stunned him.

  She readjusted herself in her seat to face forward. “I may not be able to officially help the village we just visited, but there may be another way. I mean, when I looked at the well, which is amazing by the way, and I saw the graywater produced—a screen of clumping bamboo downhill from the drain-off could treat contaminants, preventing anything unhygienic from spreading in such a moist environment. Not to mention if it was planted on the slope around the school, it could help purify the water and improve the smell. Without electricity, the women are using wood fires to cook. Did you see the amount of carbon on their walls and ceilings? They’re breathing that in!”

  In all of the rural towns and villages he’d visited throughout the world, that had been something he’d observed. They needed purified water to survive, and without an infrastructure that could reach them, they needed fuel to cook and stay warm, which was often wood. Women and children fell ill from the fumes, without having a solution to the problem. Miles cleared his throat. “One of the projects on my list is showing them how to put in chimneys—it has nothing to do with water systems, but while I’m here I figure what the hell—”

  “That’s a good idea, but if they grew their own bamboo, they’d have something that isn’t as bad for them to breathe when burned. Plus, they could even make their own bamboo charcoal—a great fuel source to sell. It’s renewable, reaching its prime in five years of growth versus a mahogany at seventy-five.” Kara rubbed her cheek and blushed. “Sorry, I probably sound like a wiki article.”

  Against his will, all of the negative feelings Miles had toward her began to disappear. Not only had he been wrong about what she’d been lugging around in her bag, he’d underestimated her knowledge and preparedness. Although she’d openly admitted being out of her element, she was obviously passionate about her cause. Maybe Dave had been right—they really were after the same thing.

  He took a deep breath and pushed his glasses to the top of his head. He was about to do something he didn’t have much experience with. It left him exposed, but if she’d been courageous enough to be honest with him, he could do it too. “I’m sorry. I know I’m hard to be around. I’ve been underestimating you since we met, and you didn’t deserve it. I’m just—”

  “You care about them. You’re not an ass to everyone,” Kara said it in earnestness, but when she heard what she’d said, she blushed.

  Miles laughed out loud, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. I can’t deny it. I don’t have much patience for people who’re in my way. And I’ve been called worse—I’ll take it.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He dropped his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “I like your excitement, but I have no idea how you’re going to get bamboo to Quebrada de Aqua. You’re leaving in five days. I don’t want to kill your idea, but the people of El Punto won’t be as easy to warm up with some soap. The ranchers can be resistant to change—even if their way isn’t working.”

  “But you’re going to help me, right?” The breeze coming in from the window blew strands of hair across her face as she turned to look at him. He fought the urge to brush his fingers across her cheek, curious to see how soft her skin would feel.

  Miles smirked. “They won’t know what hit them.”

  Chapter 4.

  Kara didn’t know how they’d gone from being at odds to being awkward friends, but she’d take it. She’d been worried she’d have to endure his bad attitude and sour looks the entire week. At the end of her rope, she’d decided to lay it on the line, and Miles had actually surprised her.

  She brushed off a smudge of dirt from her shorts and tried not to think about the fact that she hadn’t changed her clothes since yesterday. After falling in the mud last night, sleeping on the floor and not having access to a shower, grimy wasn’t the word for it. Kara hoped making a special request of Miles wouldn’t sour his mood.

  “Is there any way you’d be willing to pull off for just a minute so I can change my clothes? The way my morning went, I never got the chance.”

  Without actually answering, Miles slowed the car down and stopped. The road wasn’t wide enough to offer a shoulder to pull onto, so he threw it in neutral and pulled the parking brake. “Nothing to be shy about out here, Hot Lips. No one’s going to pass us on the road, and I don’t think the monkeys will stare. Much.”

  “Be sure that you don’t,” Kara said as she let herself out of the vehicle.

  Miles’s laughter followed her out. When she opened the back door to unzip her backpack, he tipped his head forward so she could see his eyes behind his glasses. “I’ll do my best, but I’m only a primate, after all.”

  She pinched her lips together, convinced she should be bothered by his attention, but no matter how hard she tried, every time she caught sight of his hazel eyes on her, it made every second pass by slowly. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper and the sound of her heartbeat swished in her ears as she leaned forward to pull out fresh undergarments, a green tank top and another pair of khaki shorts.

  With everything in hand, she stepped away from the vehicle and looked around her. There weren’t any trees close enough to the car for her to change behind, and there was no way she would resort to squatting behind the SUV. She wasn’t thirteen, after all.

  Another thing she wasn’t was confident. She admired women who took charge of their bodies, knowing their power, but she was nothing like that. Kara knew she wasn’t ugly, but the difference between walking proud and standing awkwardly in the corner was a chasm too large for her to cross.

  Nevertheless, Kara turned her back to the vehicle and didn’t waste any time getting changed. As soon as she was done, she tucked her dirty clothes in one of the front zipper pouches of her backpack. She glanced up and caught Miles watching her. His eyes were serious, almost gentle, as they traced from her arms up to her neck and face. The humor they’d shared minutes ago had all but evaporated. Caught looking, he turned his head to stare out the windshield. Kara didn’t feel like acknowledging the moment even to herself, so she quickly jumped into the passenger seat.

  Once she was buckled, they started bumping down the road again. She didn’t presume radio
was available out here, and there was no way she had cell reception to stream music. That meant the silence would have to be broken the hard way.

  “So, how long should it take to get to El Punto?”

  Miles glanced at his watch before answering, “Another three hours if there aren’t any landslides, cattle or flat tires.”

  “We’ve already done one thing on that list—too bad stopping at a hot spring isn’t one of the options.”

  “Well, you did enjoy a mud bath last night. Right after your tour through the majestic jungles of Honduras…during a warm tropical rain.”

  She rubbed her shoulder against the side of her head to hide her smile. “What do you have planned next?”

  He paused before he spoke. “An authentic Honduran dinner in the best estate of the valley and a serenade from local wildlife while you admire the sunset over the mountains.”

  Kara knew he was trying to make it sound like a travel brochure, but despite what she presumed was the reality of the situation, she found herself looking forward to it.

  They drove in silence for some time, just looking at the scenery as they drove through the countryside. The evergreen rainforest turned more deciduous while they drove alongside a muddy river that followed the rippling mountainside and valleys.

  When the lunch hour came and passed, Kara knew it. Her stomach demanded food, and with the smell of Maria’s tamales in the car, she couldn’t wait any longer. “I’m ready to eat—do you mind stopping?”

  Miles sighed, then said, “I guess—we’re making decent time. I’ll pull over so we can stretch our legs. I may have a square of canvas in the back we can sit on.”

  Along a widened stretch of road, he pulled over. Kara grabbed the tamales off the dash and got out. Miles found two water bottles and a drop cloth like he’d promised, and they located a section of grass that wasn’t too muddy.

  They sat on opposite halves of the canvas with their food and began eating. It didn’t take Kara long to finish her last bite. A sleepy, satisfied daze came over her, so she lay back and watched puffy clouds slide at a snail’s pace across the sky.