Sooner or Later

by Debbie Macomber

  “You didn’t even tell me your name.”

  “I did,” he rushed to tell her. “But we were in a bar, remember? The music was loud, and you must have misunderstood me. I meant to tell you later.”

  “But you couldn’t very well announce that I’d gotten your name wrong when you’d just finished screwing my brains out.”

  “Wrong. I didn’t care what you called me as long as you let me stay with you,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to her neck. “I want us to start over, Marcie. This time let’s do it right.”

  “Why should we?” she whispered. “We both know that there’s only one thing we have in common, and that’s a healthy physical appetite.”

  “Agreed, but if we get along so famously in bed, can you imagine how well we could get along outside of it?”

  Her shoulders lifted in a half laugh. She smeared the moisture across her face with the back of her hand. “Okay, let’s say I agree to getting to know you better outside of bed. In other words, you want us to become friends, right?”

  Jack bit his tongue. This wasn’t exactly what he was suggesting, but close. He wanted her to move in with him, but he didn’t intend for her to take up residence in his guest bedroom. The impatience he felt to have her back in his bed was keen, but he realized if he moved too quickly, he might lose her.

  “That is what you want, isn’t it?” she asked, twisting around and confronting him.

  “Yes,” he agreed emphatically. “Friends.”

  “Then what?” she pressed.

  He hesitated, not sure what she wanted him to say. “Whatever you want, baby. We’ll let this relationship go however you say. You’re the one at the helm.”

  This appeared to shock her. Her eyes were wide and expectant, as if she weren’t sure she should believe him. Then, as if she wanted to test the waters, she said, “Let’s start with a little honesty, then. If I had your name wrong, there might well be a few other matters we should set straight.”

  “I agree.” He raised both hands, indicating that she should ask away.

  They started to walk with no real destination in mind. Because the temptation to touch her was strong and he was fairly certain she didn’t want him to, Jack clenched his hands behind his back.

  “Are you married?”

  “No,” he returned adamantly.

  “Have you ever been?”

  “No.”

  She studied him as if to gauge the truth of his response. He met her gaze boldly. “It’s the truth, I swear it.”

  “You’re away so much of the time.”

  “True.” He didn’t elaborate until he read the skeptical look in her eye and realized she was testing him and if he failed now, he could lose her. “But I’m not a salesman the way I’ve led you to believe.”

  “You’re not?”

  He dragged deep breaths through his lungs. The truth might be too much for her to accept. This was a gamble he had no choice but to take. “You probably won’t like this. There’s a danger in that, but if the truth is what you want, then I’ll give it to you.”

  “You’re an IRS agent, aren’t you?”

  He laughed, and because she was so damned cute, he leaned over and gently kissed her lips. “No. I work for Deliverance Company. We’re a group of highly trained professional soldiers who specialize in rescue operations.”

  “You’re a mercenary?” She sounded incredulous.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Sweetheart, listen, I’ve been doing this for a lot of years. I’m damn good at what I do. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

  She nodded, but he noted that some of the shine went out of her eyes. She found a park bench and sat down.

  “Say something,” he said, sitting beside her.

  She studied him for a long moment, then flattened her hand against the side of his face. “If I asked you to change jobs for me, would you?”

  The woman went straight for the kill, he noted, and at the same time he respected her for it. No need beating around the bush if they deadlocked over an important issue.

  It took him a couple of moments to compose his reply. “I don’t know.”

  “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

  “Let me put it like this. I’d be willing to give it a try, if you felt you couldn’t live with my profession. Two men in the company were married a few years back. They both left Deliverance Company, and appear to be content. If Mallory and Cain can make the adjustment back into civilian life, then I imagine I could as well.”

  “They both married?”

  “Yes. Happily, it seems.” This didn’t seem the time to announce he wasn’t considering such a drastic step himself. He wanted Marcie in his life, but the legal ramifications of marriage were more than he wanted to ponder at this point.

  Marcie’s shoulders drooped, as if the weight of her thoughts had burdened her.

  “I need to think about all this, Johnny. Jack,” she said, quickly correcting herself.

  “Do that, baby.”

  “There’s Clifford to consider.” She sounded worried.

  “I know.”

  “He’s been so good to me.”

  “I’ll be good to you, too,” Jack promised.

  “You don’t understand about Clifford.”

  “I’m sure I don’t.” Belittling the other man wouldn’t be smart at this point.

  “I’ll need time to think this over.”

  “Of course you will.” It would behoove Jack to be patient. He wanted Marcie. Without too much trouble he could see himself falling in love with her.

  26

  Luke heard the sound of the guards’ footsteps outside his cell at dawn. He was ready to die. He’d had weeks to mentally prepare himself for death. That the day would come on the feast day of St. Paul, the patron saint of Zarcero’s capital, was an irony of its own.

  After he’d first been arrested, when the torture had been at its worst, when the unrelenting pain had kept him awake day and night, Luke had prayed for death. Later, when the agony became tolerable, he realized how very much he wanted to live. Thoughts of Rosita and their future together had lent him the strength to continue. To hope. To believe. To trust.

  Now his life was about to be snatched away from him, along with the lives of four loyal youths. Innocents, whose only crime was their desire to save him from the hands of these butchers. There would be no last-minute reprieves. No dramatic rescues. This was the end.

  The cell door opened, and despite the pain in his leg, Luke stood proud and tall. Soon he would be robbed of his life, but he refused to go kicking and screaming before his executioners. With his head held high and with as much dignity as he could muster, he placed two letters on top of the cot and boldly met his escorts. With one last glimpse of his cell, he prayed silently that his letters reached Rosita and Letty.

  The smaller of the two guards roughly bound his hands behind his back and then shoved him forward with the butt of his rifle. Luke walked through the dark stone passageway into the light. Perhaps he was becoming fanciful in his final moments, but he felt that within minutes he would leave the ugliness of hate and vengeance and walk into the light of God’s love and forgiveness.

  The sun blinded him as he was led out of doors. He squinted until he saw that Hector, Emilio, Juan, and Roberto were already in place. They stood against the wall, their hands tied behind their backs. Apparently they weren’t to be afforded the luxury of a blindfold.

  Despite his determination to be strong, Luke experienced a painful tightening in his chest. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave all the things life might have held for him. He thought about Rosita and the love he felt for her and their unborn children. For the mission work he’d hoped to complete in Zarcero. For Letty, who would be completely alone now. He hoped that his death would be the catalyst that would convince her to marry Slim. The rancher had been more than patient with her.

  Shoved forcefully by his captors toward the others, Luke stumbled
and his head bounced against the concrete wall. Pain shot through him, and for a moment he saw double.

  When his vision cleared he noted that Juan and Roberto were both sobbing with fear. They were little more than boys. Neither one was yet sixteen. Hector looked as if he were in a state of shock and stared blindly into the distance. Sixteen-year-old Emilio had slumped to the ground, his legs no longer able to support him.

  Background noise filtered toward Luke. The sound of women sobbing and pleading for mercy rose from outside the compound. The boys’ families, he guessed sadly. Luke knew that Rosita would be there, and his last thought before the firing squad raised their rifles was of her. He closed his eyes and prayed that God would take the love he felt for Rosita and place it in the heart of another man. One who would cherish her the way Luke would have had he been allowed to live.

  He closed his eyes, prepared to meet the God he served.

  “Wait.”

  Luke’s eyes flew open as an officer marched across the compound with wide, purpose-filled steps. His gaze centered on Luke as he spoke to the soldier in charge of the execution. Luke didn’t know what was happening, but he noticed the way hope lit up his friends’ eyes. They stopped and looked to Luke as if he might be able to explain these strange happenings.

  “Faith, my friends,” he whispered, wanting to encourage them.

  During his captivity, Luke had met many of the army’s leaders, but he didn’t recognize this latest addition.

  The two officers held a short conference. Soon a soldier marched forward and grabbed Luke by the upper arm and dragged him away from the others.

  “Proceed.” The order was issued by the officer in charge of the firing squad.

  “No,” Luke shouted, struggling. “No!”

  His scream was obliterated by the sound of firing rifles. The shots echoed into the early morning, mingling with screams of terror. Luke twisted around to see the bloody, lifeless bodies of the four youths slumped against the wall. The scent of sulfur and death hung in the air.

  His grief and horror, his sense of loss, were so keen that his knees gave out on him and he fell to the dirt. His stomach rioted and the contents surged up his throat. He gagged and vomited. He was no longer in Zarcero, he was in hell, in the very hands of Satan himself.

  When he’d finished heaving, Luke was lugged into the commander’s headquarters and slammed onto a chair. He looked at the faces of the two men and felt nothing. No fear. No pain. Nothing.

  The compound commander and the second man spoke quietly, but Luke paid them no mind. He felt as if his mind had isolated itself from the inhumanity of what he’d just witnessed, from the travesty committed against his friends. He dared not think about the lives of these innocents or he would go mad, so he sat completely numb.

  “I’ve come to ask you about your family,” announced the officer who’d stopped the execution.

  Luke glanced briefly in the rebel’s direction.

  “Answer Captain Norte,” Captain Faqueza, the camp commander, shouted when Luke wasn’t immediately forthcoming.

  “My family,” Luke repeated, still numb, still dazed.

  “Tell me about your family,” the captain pressed.

  “I belong to the family of God.”

  His response warranted him a slap across the face.

  “You have a wife?”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “A sister, then?”

  Luke said nothing.

  “These were found on his cot,” Commander Faqueza said, and placed the two letters Luke had left inside his cell on top of the desk. The other man reached for the first note.

  “Letty.”

  Luke’s head snapped up and he narrowed his gaze. “What’s my sister got to do with this?”

  “Letty Madden,” Captain Norte repeated, having trouble pronouncing the English name. “I believe that was what the woman said her name was.”

  “Letty’s here?” Adrenaline shot through Luke’s bloodstream, and he bolted upright and out of the chair.

  He was forcefully shoved back down as Captain Norte paced in front of him. “I’ve met your sister and her friend.”

  Her friend? Luke hadn’t a clue who that would be. Not Slim. Luke couldn’t imagine the rancher in Zarcero. Not now. Letty’s man friend would be completely out of his element in Central America at the best of times.

  “What have you done with her?” Luke demanded.

  “Nothing,” Norte said, and then added with a soft, demented laugh, “Yet, that is. Your sister has proven to be something of a nuisance. With the help of her troublesome friend, she’s managed to destroy a fuel dump, kill two of my men, and steal a jeep.”

  “Letty?” Luke was incredulous. “You must be mistaken. My sister works for the United States Postal Service.”

  Norte snickered.

  “It’s true.”

  “We had word of her friend’s capture recently, but unfortunately before we were able to question the man, he escaped. We believe your sister was behind that as well.”

  “Letty?”

  “Apparently she managed to drug the guard.”

  “You have the wrong woman,” Luke said without emotion. He didn’t know what Letty was doing in Zarcero, but he prayed she’d leave while she could.

  “I have a score to settle with your sister.”

  Luke said nothing.

  “And it seems to me that the way to get to her is through you.”

  “He was sentenced to death,” Commander Faqueza complained, apparently upset that Luke hadn’t been shot with the others.

  “He will die,” Norte replied confidently, “you have my word on that. But first I will use him as bait to trap two enemies of our people.”

  27

  Letty woke with a start and bolted upright. She exhaled slowly and glanced around, finding her bearings. Yellow-cheeked parrots, egrets, and frigate-birds chirped a cheery greeting. She saw the boat and realized they were still on the river, but Murphy had secured it so they could both catch a few hours of badly needed sleep.

  She wasn’t entirely sure what had woken her. For several moments her groggy mind refused to function. Then all at once a terrible sadness, a deep, soul-wrenching grief, pressed heavily against her chest. Alarmed, she flattened her hand over her heart, wondering at the strong, powerful sensation. It was Luke, she realized with a start. He was feeling this pain, and it was almost more than he could take.

  “What’s wrong?” Apparently she’d inadvertently woken Murphy. He propped himself up on one elbow and studied her.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, battling back the waves of mind-bending sorrow. “All I know is that it has something to do with Luke. Something’s happened, something terrible. I feel his agony, his grief.” She didn’t look at Murphy, knowing he was skeptical of the emotional link she shared with her twin brother. “Murphy, we have to find him soon. Something really awful has happened…. Whatever it is has broken his heart.”

  “We’ll be in San Paulo by afternoon,” Murphy said.

  “We have to hurry,” she whispered, and buried her face in her hands until the sensation dwindled and faded.

  “Take it easy, sweetheart, we’ll get there all in good time.”

  “I’m worried.” She straightened and looked down the river, eager to be on the way.

  He sat upright, yawned, and rubbed a hand over the side of his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, she noted, resisting the temptation to reach out and stroke his face. The desire surprised her. They’d shared a number of small intimacies since beginning this trip. Letty felt comfortable with him in ways she hadn’t with any other man, save her father and brother. Even Slim, the man she’d once felt she would marry.

  “You’ve got that look,” Murphy muttered, and frowned at her as if he weren’t sure what to expect next.

  “What look?” she asked, reaching for her backpack and running a brush through her tangled hair.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.�
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  Letty pinched her lips together. “You don’t need to worry. We’ll find Luke and be out of here soon enough, so you say. Then I won’t harass you with unpleasant looks.”

  “I didn’t say it was unpleasant,” he snapped, reaching for his weapon. He leaped from the bow of the boat to the shoreline. “All I said was that I didn’t like it.” With that he disappeared into the bush.

  Letty continued brushing her hair, convinced Murphy was by far the most disagreeable human being she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting.

  She didn’t understand him. One minute he was snapping at her like a cantankerous turtle and another time he was holding her, comforting her, reassuring her that she wasn’t responsible for the sins of her mother.

  At one point she’d offered him her friendship, which he’d soundly rejected, yet he was quite possibly the best friend she’d ever had. In the past week Letty had shared more confidences with this soldier of fortune than she had with her closest, dearest childhood friends.

  Letty realized Murphy wasn’t interested in listening to her worries. He probably would rather she’d left them unspoken. Her concerns must have embarrassed him. She knew they did her and vowed that whatever was to follow, she would no longer burden him with her past.

  Within half an hour they were chugging down the river once again. Letty sat at the far end of the boat, her back straight, fervently avoiding him. If Murphy had any complaints about her attitude, he left them unsaid.

  They must have traveled two hours or more without speaking. Letty swore she’d swallow her tongue before she’d be the first one to speak. This too appeared to suit Murphy’s purposes. He had never seemed more content. He leaned back and whistled merrily, as if they were on a Caribbean cruise rather than a rescue mission to save her brother’s life.

  “That’s the look I detest the most,” he said, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He leaned against the side of the craft with one hand on the engine.

  “What look?” she flared, immediately angry with herself for reacting.