The doctor disappeared, and Jack pushed off his perch, grabbed his one bag of groceries, and continued to his apartment for another sleepless night.
****
Raylyn lay in bed, her gaze rooted to the ceiling joists. Over and over, her time with Alfonzo raced through her mind.
He had showed up on her doorstep after their shift at the clinic with a basketful of food on his arm and invited himself in. Embarrassed by her casual attire of sweatpants and a t-shirt, she had tried to discourage him, but he’d refused to listen…
“You are fine, querida. Do not concern yourself with attire. We are friends.”
“But—”
He waved away her words. “Please allow me to serve you.”
He called her darling. She gulped and drew back as he pulled a cloth from the basket and fluttered it through the air and onto the table. Dishes and plates in place, he held out her chair. When she settled, he pushed the chair to the table and piled her plate with food.
The meal was enjoyable, and she relaxed. They shared laughs and sorrows over recent patients. The meal ended, and he gathered the plates and placed them in the one-holed sink. Leftovers were returned to the basket.
Alfonzo lifted her hand to his lips. “Until we meet again.”
She nodded and kept her vision downcast as he left…
The clock ticked away the minutes, and the memory faded.
The end of the evening had stood in sharp contrast to the evening with Jack. He hadn’t left her with the cleanup, but rather had taken the opportunity to flirt with her.
Heat flooded her face as she remembered his moves in her kitchen. He’d taken over and washed dishes. And the way he moved his hips! She sighed and rolled over in bed, folding her hands under her cheek. Her heart raced. Realization hit that she wouldn’t mind seeing him again.
She punched her pillow. If she kept thinking in this vein, she would never sleep. Squeezing her lids shut, she tried to concentrate on other things.
Alfonzo had mentioned the Holy Week festival during dinner, and Raylyn found herself intrigued and wondering what it would be like to attend with Jack. Everything he did, he did with enthusiasm.
A smile covered her face as she thought about his possible reactions. He might grin, or pat her cheek, or pull her into his arms. The thought of him touching her made her antsy, and she couldn’t lie still. She stood and donned a robe.
The stairs squeaked beneath her feet, and before she knew what she was doing, she found herself outside Jack’s apartment door. Hand poised to knock, she changed her mind and started to turn around when the door opened.
Jack stood there, his shirt open mid-way, and his hair slightly ruffled. He widened his eyes as if surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”
“Were you going somewhere?” she asked. His body language appeared as if he’d been set on a purpose.
“I-I, well, I was thinkin’ on coming to see you.”
Raylyn tugged her robe tighter.
“Would you like to come in?” he asked as he stepped aside.
She nodded and walked past him. A musky aroma tickled her senses, and she hurried to put distance between them. Focus on other things, focus on other things.
His apartment was identical to hers; same tiny kitchen with a large bed looming in the middle of the room, the covers in disarray.
A chair scraped across the tiled floor, and Raylyn averted her attention to it and away from the massive bed. She took the seat he offered.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please,” she answered, holding her hands in her lap and wringing them together. What was she doing here? This was a terrible idea. She should have stayed downstairs and imagined a meeting with Jack.
She gnawed on her lip and looked at him from under her lashes. Liquid bubbled and hissed in the coffeemaker, creating the only sound in the room. Jack leaned one hip against the counter and waited for the machine.
Raylyn tried to look away. The part of his shirt revealed his muscular chest. A healing scar cut a trail from one shoulder bone to the opposite side of his neck. The tip of her fingers tingled with the urge to caress the imperfection.
This was madness! Looking away she studied grooved lines in the table. Crisscrossed markings decorated the wood. To distract her mind, she looked for a pattern.
Cups filled, Jack carried two to the table. Beside her cup, he placed flavored creamer and a spoon before taking the seat opposite hers. “Why is it so hard to sleep in this place?”
She laughed under her breath and sipped at her coffee. She covered her mouth as the liquid burned her lip. “Ow!”
“Can I get you some ice?” Jack asked as he prepared to lunge from his chair.
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”
Awkward silence filled the tiny apartment. The pain gone, Raylyn struggled to find a topic of conversation. She’d wanted to be near him, which is why she’d paid him a midnight visit, but that didn’t mean she knew what to say. And how was she to carry on a conversation with him sitting across from her, looking like a male model? Did he have any idea how she felt about him?
She blurted, “Don’t you wish sometimes we could forget the past and just start over?”
He looked at the liquid in his cup and then lifted his gaze. “No. Because if I forgot the past, then I wouldn’t remember the sweet sound of your voice as you read to me or the smooth feel of your touch as you stroked my cheek.”
Heat flushed her face, and she couldn’t sit still. She stood and strode to the broad windows that ran the length of the room. “The town is beautiful at night.”
Fortunately, he didn’t follow her. His voice floated from behind. “Yes, it holds more beauty than I thought possible.”
Was he talking about her, or was she reading things into his words that he didn’t mean? Why had she said anything? She should have kept her mouth shut. Now she felt more uncomfortable than before.
“I hear there will be a grand fireworks show this weekend in the city center. Would you like to go?”
Her heart thumped wildly at his offer, and she faced him. In a low voice, she replied, “I would love to go.”
The corner of his lip twitched. “Great. I’ll pick you up early on Saturday, and we can make a day of it.”
“Okay.” She leaned against the window frame, her hands tightly clasping the wood.
“Your coffee’s getting cold.”
She nodded and returned to the table.
****
Jack covertly observed Raylyn. Internally, he thrilled at the prospect of taking her to the festival. He hoped to open a dialogue about their past and perhaps discover the reason for her unexpected disappearance. But now he needed to change the subject. She was as tight as a coiled snake, and she expected him to pounce.
He swallowed his excitement at being in her presence. The bathrobe she wore closed at the neck and concealed all of her, save her calves and dainty feet. She crossed her legs and swung her foot back and forth with nervousness. What would she do if he took her foot and massaged her instep? Or maybe if he stood behind her and released her ponytail and ran his fingers through her hair?
His heart hammered in his chest. Now he really needed to change the subject.
“How are you enjoying your work at the clinic?” The question came out gruffly, but she didn’t seem to notice.
She leaned her elbows on the table, still cradling her mug. “It’s getting easier. The patients are repeat offenders, so finding their charts isn’t quite as challenging, and because they live similar lives, the root of their illnesses follow a pattern.”
“Examples?”
The question had her changing position again. She resettled in the chair with her legs crossed. The length of one calf peeked through the opening in her robe, and he forced himself to study her face and listen to her words. She gnawed on her lip, and he felt like fanning his flushed face.
“An example, let me think.” She held up a finger like sh
e'd had an epiphany. “There is a middle-aged woman who comes in every couple of days with a different symptom. First she had a bug bite that was itching. Then she had dandruff. I told Alfonzo the woman wanted company. He understood, but he didn’t know what to do other than to see her as a patient and give her the human interaction she desired.”
“I take it you thought of another solution.” Pride swelled in his breast at her acumen for caring.
She nodded and a grin tilted her lips. “I did. She is about Manuel’s age, so I introduced them. Now Manuel visits her house for dinner, and they’re getting along famously.”
He lifted his cup to her, and they toasted. “To your success as a nurse in San Cristóbal, may it always continue to be this rewarding.”
She sipped and then played with the mug’s handle. “And you? How is the carpentry work?”
He allowed his accent to thicken. If Hannah had liked it, maybe Raylyn would as well. “Much better now that we aren’t repairing roofs. I suddenly realized how little I know about Spanish architecture. I reckon I should have taken a class to bone up on the subject before I came, but you think when you’re in the States that it can’t be that different.”
“So what are you working on now?”
“We’re buildin’ a bathroom for an elderly lady. She’d been going outside to the outhouse for some time, but she’s getting older, and it would just be a sight easier if everything was more accessible to her.”
“And you enjoy this?”
“I do.” He smiled. “I love the look on the customer’s face when a project is finished, and they get to use it.”
“What do you have planned next?”
“I think Manuel has us out in the woods somewhere, working on framing a new room. Some family had another baby, and they need to expand, so we’re going to help ’em out.”
“And they don’t live in the ghetto?”
He shook his head. “Several of the Christians still live on their own property. Of course, with all the deforestation going on, they may not have property much longer, but while they do, they’re fightin’ to hang onto it.”
She nodded. “Have you talked to anyone back home?”
“Yeah. I’ve called Rory. How about you?”
“My aunt and uncle. They live in Sapphire Shoals. It’s this great little country town where everything is named after gems.”
The mug slipped from his fingers and plucked onto the table, spilling hot liquid over his hands. He grunted. Raylyn clutched his hand, rushed him to the sink, and shoved his fist under the cool water.
“Just hold it here for a few minutes.”
He obeyed, enjoying the feel of her touch. The water off, she dried his hands.
“I don’t think you burnt them too bad, but you should be more careful.”
All thoughts of Sapphire Shoals drifted away. They stood inches apart. If he bent forward, their lips would touch. Raylyn waited expectantly, and his head began a natural descent.
Chapter Fifteen
It felt like the world stopped moving as Jack lowered his head. His moist lips touched her forehead, and Raylyn closed her eyes and sighed. The warmth of his nearness dissipated, and she opened her eyes to find him across the room, cleaning the table.
She swallowed. He appeared hard at work ignoring her and the moment that had just passed between them.
“It’s getting late. If I don’t go to bed soon, I won’t be fit for work in the morning.”
Raylyn nodded but didn’t move. He left the table and opened his door. Still she waited, but she didn’t know what for.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered.
She tightened her robe, straightened her shoulders, and moved past him. The door clicked closed behind her. Tears sprang to her eyes as she grasped the railing and prayed for guidance.
What was she going to do? She’d come to Chiapas to be a nurse for those in need. She’d never expected to meet Jack here. Why, when she was just getting comfortable being alone, did he have to show up again?
Her forehead felt warm, and she massaged it. The feel of his soft lips rushed back to her. Why hadn’t he gone a little lower and kissed her cheek or her mouth? Heat flushed her face at the thought.
Wind whipped around her legs and tugged at the hem of her robe. She should take a hint from Jack and go to bed.
The metal stairs at the end of the balcony creaked under her weight, and she shifted her position so as not to disturb anyone else in the building. In the courtyard, Raylyn stopped and peered into the sparkling fountain. The peaceful sound of water flowing from the stone statue flooded her soul, and she focused her attention on the feeling.
She skimmed her hand across the rippling surface and initiated another wave. The unsettledness felt like her life, tumult and bubbly with a new ripple. She sighed and left the stone perch.
The cold quietness of the apartment had tears springing to her eyes. Swiping them away, she padded to her bed and lay down to sleep.
****
The alarm blared. Raylyn slapped the clock radio and rolled over with a groan. Red numbers glared the hour. She was going to be late.
She jumped from the bed, ran to the closet, pulled out her clothes, and stumbled across the cold tile floor to the bathroom. The five-minute shower woke her up. Quickly, she toweled-dry and dressed. In the tiny kitchen, she brewed coffee and waited for Alfonzo.
She was just filling her cup when he knocked on the door. “Come in.”
He entered. “Good morning, chiquita. I hope you slept well.”
“Yes,” she said, forcing the half-truth from her lips.
“Are you ready for the day?”
She nodded and swallowed a swig of the hot liquid. The lining of her throat burned. Grimacing, she placed the mug in the sink and followed him out the door. They strolled in companionable silence to the clinic. Already, people lined the sidewalk in front of the building.
“It looks to be a busy day. I hope you did not have plans.”
Raylyn shook her head.
Indeed the day was busy. Patient upon patient entered the established clinic. Several came with colds, while others came with injuries. Raylyn replaced a cast on a child before prescribing antibiotics for another patient with a sinus infection. Alfonzo busily worked to keep up with the more severe cases. When the day ended, they collapsed in Alfonzo’s office.
“I do hope the festival ends soon. It always brings more sickness.”
“Why?” Raylyn pulled her legs underneath her and worked to get comfortable on the cracked-leather upholstered couch.
“Since more people visit during the festival, there are more diseases being spread.”
“Ah.”
“That reminds me, would you like to go to the city center this Saturday? They will have the final event, and I’m sure you would enjoy it.”
She studied her hands. “I’m already going.”
“I see.” He tilted his head and tapped a finger to his chin.
“But I’m sure that—“
“That Jack wouldn’t mind the company?”
She nodded.
“I think you are incorrect. But do not worry about me. I will attend the festivities, and perhaps we will see each other there.”
Raylyn refused to give credence to Alfonzo’s growing feelings. If she pretended they weren’t real, then maybe they would go away. But as his gaze lingered, her discomfort grew. She unfolded her legs and sat straighter.
Alfonzo stood. “Perhaps it is time we head for home, yes?”
She nodded and followed Alfonzo into the lobby. The clinic locked up, they walked to the corner before separating. Stopping, she scrutinized his retreating form. He slumped his shoulders, looking more tired than usual. Raylyn gnawed her lip. Normally, he would never have let her walk home alone.
She’d hurt him. Opening her mouth, she almost called him back. She could offer to cook him dinner, or ask if he wanted to come over for the afternoon. She rolled her eyes heavenward. Apparently pret
ending they had no feelings for one another wasn’t going to work.
Her mind raced. What was she going to do? Did she want to encourage Alfonzo? Couldn’t she invite him over to eat as a friend?
Sure. They were fellow Christians. He’d fed her many times. She smiled. Even if she only cared for him as a friend, they should be able to share a meal, right?
She gnawed on her lip. But how was she to feed Alfonzo when she didn’t have an inkling of food in her pantry? The busy lifestyle she’d led since her arrival hadn’t afforded time for her to visit the marketplace.
Perhaps if she hurried home, she could make a trip to the city center. Then the next time she wanted to invite Alfonzo over, she would be able to.
She rushed to her apartment and changed into a fresh pair of blue jeans and a bright red shirt. Feet encased in a pair of comfortable sandals, Raylyn set out.
****
Near the local church was an open building that housed the market. The city center left Raylyn in awe. It wasn’t like the stores in America with items in cans, boxes, and dehydrated. No, everything here was fresh.
There was the traditional butcher shop with meat hanging beneath the booth’s canvas covering. Stalls where people ordered fish, wrapped in paper and flung through the air. Fresh garden vegetables arranged in neat rows of color. Homemade bread loaves lay side-by-side on a crowded table, the aroma wafting through the air. Bolts of cloth and dresses hung off the arms of merchants as they stood in the aisle and attempted to hawk their wares.
Today, few tourists walked the streets, and Raylyn felt wary. Always in proximity to the vendors, she perused the goods. After loading a bag with fresh vegetables, she continued on toward a row of restaurants.
The smell of Italian food tantalized her senses. The bell rang overhead as she opened the door. A hostess escorted her to an empty table fit for two and hidden in a darkened corner. A waiter dressed in the garb of a matador took her order. Italian spring music filled the air.
Emerald Street Page 9
