Sooner or Later

by Debbie Macomber

  Letty focused her attention on Murphy and Ramirez while they haggled with the wiry, dark-skinned man and an older gentleman. Their raised, excited voices stirred the hot afternoon air. Letty could make out only an intermittent word, just enough to catch the gist of the disagreement, which had to do with money. Her Spanish was excellent, but the men all seemed to be talking at once, heatedly disagreeing with one another.

  Murphy objected loudest. From what she could make out, the two men claimed that the danger had greatly increased and the price for guiding him and Letty across the Hojancha border into Zarcero had doubled.

  Once, briefly, Ramirez glanced across the dirt road toward Letty, as if to let her know she was the real reason for their trouble. She stiffened her spine and glared right back, unwilling to let him intimidate her. Since she was the one financing this venture, he had no reason to complain.

  From Murphy’s stance, Letty could see he wasn’t the least bit pleased with this turn of events. Not once did he look her way. She could have keeled over in a dead faint before he’d take the trouble to recognize her. If then.

  Since they’d boarded the plane in Texas he’d gone out of his way to make it abundantly clear that he didn’t want her with him. It went without saying that he considered her presence on this trip nothing but a damn nuisance.

  Letty removed her hat and wiped the perspiration from her brow with the back of her forearm. The backpack cut into her shoulder blades and she shifted the thick straps, hoping to relieve the pressure. Her khaki shirt was drenched with sweat, but she’d die before she’d complain about the heat or anything else.

  The previous night and a good portion of the morning had been spent being tossed about like a sack of potatoes in the back of Ramirez’s jeep. She couldn’t be sure what Murphy had told the other man, but she strongly suspected he’d offered him a bonus if he could find a way to be rid of her. The jeep’s journey across Hojancha was worse than any carnival ride she’d taken.

  When they’d arrived in this village, Murphy had ordered her out of the jeep like a drill sergeant talking to a raw recruit. Her legs had felt weak, but she’d managed to climb down.

  When the wiry man and his friend arrived, Murphy had insisted she wait for him across the dirt roadway. It seemed to Letty that he could have used her help with the negotiations. But in an effort to keep the peace, she’d done as he asked without arguing. She did note, however, that Murphy was forced to rely on Ramirez more than once to translate for him. She could have done just as well.

  Irritated and frustrated, Letty paced the shaded area and waited for the men to resolve the money issue. As far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter what it cost. They had to get into Zarcero without being discovered.

  A weak, pitiful cry cut into her thoughts. Letty turned to find the clean-scrubbed young mother attempting to comfort the infant in her arms by feeding her a bottle. A second frail sob racked the sick baby, and the woman’s eyes filled with tears that she struggled to hold back.

  Letty had been so caught up in her own troubles that she hadn’t given the mother and child more than an indifferent glance.

  “Is the baby ill?” Letty asked gently in Spanish.

  The woman glanced up, her eyes riddled with worry and tears, but she didn’t respond.

  Letty pressed the back of her hand against the infant’s forehead. The baby burned with fever.

  The woman closed her arms more securely around her child and nodded.

  Letty asked a number of questions and learned the other woman’s name was Anna and the baby’s Margherita.

  Letty slipped the backpack off her shoulder and knelt on the dirt floor. Not knowing in what condition they’d find Luke, she’d brought along a variety of herb creams, tinctures, and ointments. Surely she could find something that would help reduce the baby’s fever.

  “I’m not a doctor,” Letty explained as she drew out a small plastic bottle. She explained that the liquid had been made from Chinese honeysuckle, often called jin yin. “I know about herbs, and two small drops of this added to juice or sweetened water will help the baby’s fever.”

  Anna’s eyes widened as if she weren’t sure she should trust Letty.

  “You must reduce her fever,” Letty implored, realizing she could offer Anna no reassurances. This woman knew nothing of her.

  Weighing the decision carefully, Anna handed Letty her baby’s bottle. Using an eye dropper, Letty added two tiny drops of the tincture to the water.

  With a damp cloth, she moistened the infant’s face and chest. Sitting side by side, the two women cooled the baby. Temporarily comfortable, the infant sucked her bottle dry.

  “Ramón is Margherita’s father,” she said, glaring at the wiry fellow standing next to Murphy.

  “Your husband?”

  Quickly Anna lowered her eyes. “No.” Her shoulders stiffened as she raised her head, her look strong and proud. “I came because I hoped Ramón would help me find a doctor for Margherita. When I told him I was pregnant, he said a baby was my responsibility, not his. I loved him. I gave my heart to a man with no soul.” Leaning slightly closer, Anna gently pressed her hand over Letty’s arm. “He is a man who makes many promises and delivers few. Learn from my mistake. Do not trust him.”

  Across the road, Murphy looked all the more disgruntled. Ramirez’s face was red from arguing, and he shook his head repeatedly.

  “I must get into Zarcero,” Letty whispered, confiding in Anna.

  Her face and eyes revealed her dismay. “No, señorita, Zarcero is a dangerous place for you and your man.”

  “My brother is there.”

  Anna’s expressive face revealed her apprehension. “It isn’t possible. The soldiers won’t let you cross the border,” she insisted.

  “I know. Ramón was supposed to help us.”

  “Ramón?” Her dark eyes widened all the more, contrasting with the white peasant blouse and flowing skirt. “No,” she said with conviction, and shook her head. “Do not put your faith in him, señorita.”

  “My brother is a good man,” Letty returned. “He needs my help.”

  “A good person like you?” she asked, her hand gripping the tincture bottle.

  Letty smiled. She wasn’t as good as Luke, not nearly as generous or forgiving. He’d always been there for her, and she refused to abandon him now.

  “Like my brother,” she agreed meekly.

  “I will help you,” Anna promised.

  “But how?”

  Anna glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Wait here and I will bring my uncle.”

  “Your uncle?” In Zarcero, Letty had found, every citizen of the country seemed related in one way or another.

  Anna smiled for the first time. “He is a man who knows many things.”

  She slipped away. Discouraged, Letty sat down in the dirt. No more than a minute had passed when Murphy, in a display of anger, stalked across the roadway. Slapping his hat against his thigh, Ramirez stormed to the jeep and drove off.

  Joining Letty in the shade, Murphy slumped down next to her and draped his wrists over his knees. “I don’t trust that son of a bitch. He’d sell his grandmother’s liver without giving the matter a second thought.”

  “Ramón?” she asked casually.

  He pinned her with his glare. “How’d you know his name?”

  “How could I have missed it? You were arguing loud enough to alert the Canadian Mounties.”

  Murphy ran his hand along the back of his neck. “Getting into Zarcero isn’t going to be any picnic.”

  “I didn’t expect it would.”

  “Ramirez suggests we wait a couple of days….”

  “No,” she responded emphatically, “we don’t have that kind of time.”

  “Listen, I don’t like this any better than you do. It’s a pain in the ass, but we don’t have a choice.”

  “I might have found someone who can help,” she said.

  If she hadn’t garnered his full attention ear
lier, Letty had it now.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The young woman who was here earlier told me about her uncle. Apparently he has connections.”

  “An uncle? We’re supposed to trust some girl’s uncle?”

  “I’d rather put my life in his hands than rely on your man. I’d like to remind you, I’m paying top dollar for your expertise. The next time we need someone, I suggest you check out their credentials.”

  To her surprise, Murphy tossed back his head and laughed out loud. “You want me to check their credentials? Now I know why I let you come along. For comic relief.”

  She ignored his humor, especially since it was at her expense.

  Fifteen minutes later Anna returned with her uncle. The old man looked to be in his seventies. He was barely able to walk, his gait was slow and measured. A large straw hat shaded his face from the sun.

  “I’m Carlos,” he whispered in a voice that sounded surprisingly young. “I understand you are on an important mission?”

  “Yes,” Letty responded eagerly.

  Murphy said nothing, but his eyes rounded with surprise when he realized she was fluent in Spanish.

  “Come, my niece has been remiss in not offering you refreshments.”

  Encouraged, Letty stood and brushed the dirt from her backside.

  The older gentleman’s eyes bored into her. “Margherita is sleeping comfortably for the first time in two days.”

  Murphy scowled and glanced at Letty, not understanding. Letty didn’t bother to enlighten him. If Murphy learned of her knowledge with herbs, he might put two and two together. It wouldn’t take much for him to figure out the cause of his memory lapse.

  Once inside the old man’s dilapidated house, Carlos offered them canned juice. Before the old man could serve the refreshment, Murphy pulled him aside and started asking questions. Once again he ignored Letty as if she had no interest in the discussion.

  The two men spoke in a low murmur. She noticed that Murphy did most of the talking. His body language told her that he found the terms to be more to his liking, and he nodded a couple of times.

  Only once did he glance her way. He frowned before responding to Carlos’s inquiry.

  Letty was tired of being left out of the conversation, particularly one that pertained to her and rescuing Luke. She was strongly tempted to speak her mind, but soon the two men appeared to come to some agreement.

  Carlos nodded and left, leaving Letty and Murphy alone in the tiny house.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “Carlos has a boat by the river. He’s agreed to smuggle us into Zarcero himself. He’s known and trusted, and even if he is stopped and questioned, the rebels aren’t likely to search the boat.” He hesitated and studied her as if seeing her with fresh eyes. “But if we are stopped, we need to be prepared. Do you know anything about guns?”

  She swallowed uncomfortably. “Some.” Damn little if the truth be known, but she was afraid to admit it.

  “Well, you’re about to get a crash course. If you’re going into Zarcero, then you’d better damn well know how to take care of yourself.”

  “That’s why I have you,” she argued.

  Apparently her answer didn’t please him because he reached behind him and produced a deadly-looking handgun and laid it across his palm. “Either you learn how to fire this or you stay here and wait for me.”

  He walked out of the house, leaving her the option to follow him or sulk alone inside. Given no choice, she scurried after him. Murphy would like nothing better than to leave her behind.

  Letty didn’t know how long they walked; it seemed like forever. In reality, they’d probably gone a mile. The Hojancha countryside, like that of Zarcero, was unsurpassingly beautiful and variable. The air, cooler now, was soft and sweet as they traipsed across the parched grass.

  By the time Murphy stopped, her legs ached and her breath stung her lungs, but she managed to keep up with his murderous pace.

  Tucking a white piece of paper in the low-lying arms of a Cenizero tree, Murphy stated matter-of-factly, “We don’t leave for Zarcero until you can fire a bullet into this.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  One cold glance told her he wasn’t.

  “This isn’t what I’m paying you for.” She hated guns and couldn’t imagine actually having to fire one, let alone kill another human being. She’d rather die herself.

  Unfortunately Murphy gave her no option. It was either learn to handle the pistol or wait while he went into Zarcero for Luke.

  “Give me the pistol,” she demanded, determined to learn how to use it, just to spite Murphy.

  8

  The moon cast a reflective glow across the smooth waters of the Colon River, which separated Hojancha from Zarcero. Carlos s small engine echoed in the night like a rusty buzz saw. Letty wondered how it was that no one could hear their approach.

  Hidden under the tarp, she lay tense and stiff after holding still for so many hours. Murphy, disguised in clothes borrowed from a native fisherman, sat next to Carlos in a boat little bigger than a dinghy. It amazed her that the vessel had been able to keep from sinking with the three of them, plus their supplies.

  Letty would have liked to point out the unfairness of such an arrangement—her under the tarp, Murphy not—but she knew before she protested that it would do no good. When Murphy set his mind to something, it took an act of God to convince him otherwise.

  In an effort to ward off the stench of rotting fish, she alternately held her breath and closed her eyes, neither of which helped. She would have given just about anything to escape in the luxury of sleep. The night before she’d spent in the back of a jeep, being jostled around like a popcorn seed in hot grease. She could no more have slept during their road trip than leapt over the moon.

  Murphy hadn’t gotten any more rest than she, and she wondered how he fared. He gave no indication that it had affected him in any way, but for all she knew he might routinely go without sleep just to prove how tough he was.

  “It isn’t wise to take the woman with you,” Letty heard Carlos say. She had to strain to hear Murphy’s response.

  “It isn’t my choice.”

  “What is so important in Zarcero that you would risk your lives?”

  “The less you know, old man, the better,” Murphy returned without emotion.

  The boat engine slowed to a crawl. “She is a good woman.”

  Murphy snorted.

  In other circumstances Letty might have felt guilty for having duped Murphy into accompanying her to Zarcero, but not after his insulting proposition. As far as she was concerned, he got what he deserved.

  It troubled her the way her mind continued to return, like a homing pigeon, to their lone night together. It had been a momentary lapse in judgment. She wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t like her mother either, selling herself and her family for the pleasure she found in the arms of another man.

  The episode wouldn’t be repeated, of that she was confident.

  The boat engine died completely, and Letty stirred beneath the tarp. Turning her face toward the narrow opening, she angled upward to catch a whiff of cool, fresh air.

  “Are we there?” she whispered.

  “I told you to keep quiet,” Murphy answered impatiently.

  “I want out from under here.”

  “All in good time.” He pressed his booted foot against her rump. “Don’t move a muscle, understand?”

  “The area is said to be crawling with rebel troops,” Carlos warned. “Stay off the main roads.”

  Not waiting another moment, fearing Murphy wasn’t to be trusted not to leave her behind, Letty peeled back the tarp and sat upright. Even in the thick night, she felt Murphy’s displeasure.

  The rowboat butted gently against the bank.

  Murphy grabbed Letty’s upper arm and helped her to her feet. “Be as quiet as you can, understand?” he demanded.

  “I wasn’t planning to brea
k into song.”

  Murphy leaped onto the riverbank and left Letty to make her own way out of the boat while he dealt with the equipment.

  Carlos handed him the necessities collected from Ramirez earlier.

  “Be very careful, my friends,” Carlos warned before he made his way back to the helm and artfully steered the dinghy away from the bank. “I will search each night for the signal for your return.”

  “Thank you,” Letty whispered back, and waved.

  “Come on,” Murphy urged, “remember what Carlos said.”

  The old man had said plenty, most of it in an effort to dissuade Letty from going into Zarcero. After a while she had paid little attention.

  “Come on, we’ve got a long walk.”

  “I won’t hold you up,” she said, determined she’d keel over before she gave him the satisfaction. Carlos had given them the name of a friend, someone they could trust, who would put them up for the night.

  After strapping the supplies onto his back, Murphy started walking. Letty hurriedly slung her backpack over her shoulder and followed. Neither spoke.

  In other circumstances Letty would have paused to admire the heavens. A smattering of stars littered the night with tiny beacons of light. After the crushing heat of the day, the cool breeze came as a welcome relief.

  Murphy didn’t give her time to stargaze. She quickened her pace in order to keep up with him and was soon winded, but she didn’t complain. Regulating her breathing, she kept her steps in line with his.

  They rested once, and only then because Murphy thought he might have heard something. He held out his hand, pressed his finger to his lips, and stopped dead in his tracks. The moments seemed interminable. The night spoke to them in snippets of sounds. A bird’s call echoed like crickets, or perhaps monkeys, and the breeze whispered through the thick foliage. Letty smelled orchids. The texture of this country her brother loved so dearly wrapped itself around her.

  After what seemed a lifetime, they continued walking. It came to her that this was the first time she was truly alone with Murphy. Her survival and that of her brother rested squarely on his shoulders. The realization brought home the fact that she knew very little about this man. Not much more than his name and post office box. True, she’d sorted his mail for a number of years, such as it was. A few bills now and again, magazines, most with a military orientation. What she knew about him wouldn’t fill an envelope, and yet she’d trusted him with her life.