Promise Me Forever

by Janelle Taylor

  Rachel chose her words with care. “I understand, but it won’t work. Phillip kept too many secrets, more than we’ve discovered so far.”

  Dan perceived a clue in her words, but couldn’t grasp its meaning. He wondered if it had to do with the American at Ramón’s side. It didn’t seem likely, as the two hadn’t shown any recognition of each other.

  “We must go,” Carlos told the couple.

  Rachel stood and Dan got to his feet. They exchanged one more smile before they took their places in the human column on the well-worn trail.

  It was dusk when they reached the end of their journey, but enough daylight was left to reveal it was a large camp that spread out into several nature-made clearings. To the captive couple, it looked as if around a thousand men and at least fifty women made up the band. Food was cooking over low campfires whose smoke didn’t seem sufficient to give away their location. The Cuban rebels were busy with evening chores and activities. The men cleaned weapons of various kinds, and most wore machetes and knives at their waists. Some chatted, some gambled, some smoked cigars, and others rested from scouting treks. There were a few lean-tos and tents, but most areas had only sleeping mats of banana or palm branches. Cloth sacks near those makeshift beds held the men’s possessions. Despite the number of people and work in progress, the area wasn’t noisy.

  Rachel and Dan were placed at Ramón Ortega’s campsite. The leader and “Ricardo” sat down to be served a meal by a lovely beauty with dark, flowing hair and expressive brown eyes. Her revealing looks and behavior toward the leader told Dan and Rachel that she was Ramón’s woman.

  Rosaria handed the couple metal plates with black beans, chicken, rice, and fried plantains. She passed them cups of strong café cubano.

  The prisoners were ignored as everyone ate, and the two men talked in Spanish. Rosaria sat near Ramón, but didn’t join the conversation. When they finished, she gathered the dishes and cups and left to wash them. One of the returning rebels came and spoke with el lider, who looked as if the news he received was infuriating. He sent Rachel a fierce scowl that made her tremble and conclude things weren’t going well for his cause. Tomas kept pointing northward as he spoke swiftly with excitement.

  Richard looked concerned and angered. “I’m going to talk with Ramón,” he said to his sister. “Don’t try anything foolish or you’ll be killed. You’re in greater danger from Spanish soldiers than from us, so stay put. This trouble has to be resolved fast and now.”

  Dan watched the tall and handsome man leave with the rebel leader, then disappear into the forest together. “Do you know who he is?”

  Rachel looked at him and nodded. “My brother, Richard Fleming.”

  Dan gaped at her. “But you told me you didn’t—”

  Pressed for private response time, Rachel interrupted, “I didn’t know he was here, and it came as a shock. He signaled me to silence when he woke me this morning. I don’t know if he can get us out of this mess, but he’ll try; I’m sure of it.”

  “Is that what you meant about Phillip keeping more secrets?”

  “Yes. Carlos said Ricardo suggested the arms deal. They checked all three partners. Harry met with my brother on Bimini Island, remember? Phillip and Harry had to know I’m his sister, and maybe those Cubans did, too.”

  “Then why did they threaten you, and why are you a prisoner?”

  Confused, she speculated, “Richard must not have been told I was Phillip’s wife. He looked shocked to see me. Maybe, when the investigations were done, Carlos and Joaquin didn’t make the connection or mention revealing names. Maybe they don’t know Ricardo’s real identity.”

  “You think that’s what Richard is telling Ramón now?”

  Rachel glanced in the direction they had gone. “I guess it depends on how close they are. Richard suggested the deal, and the alleged traitor turns out to be his sister! How will that look to Ramón and his band? Maybe exposing our relationship would be more damaging than helpful.

  “Any time,” she fretted, “he could be a prisoner like us. I don’t want him killed just when I find him again. I haven’t seen him since ‘69. There’s so much I want to ask him and tell him. I wish we could talk for—”

  Rosaria returned and Rachel fell silent, as she didn’t know if the sultry woman could speak or understand English. Dan comprehended her caution. Rosaria tended her evening tasks, but occasionally smiled at the couple. Rachel returned her genial overtures, but felt since she was a captive she shouldn’t offer to help with camp chores.

  The hour grew late. Most of the men and women turned in for the night, but a few stood guard around the slumbering camp. The couple didn’t know if an enlightening talk had taken place or if the men had gone on a mission. A sweet-smelling gentle breeze filled the air and cooled them. They heard frogs croaking, crickets chirping, and rebels snoring. Fires had burned to low and smokeless coals. The setting was deceptively peaceful. But somewhere in the dark and steamy jungle dangers abounded.

  Rosaria placed a wide sleeping mat nearby and motioned for them to share it, having perceived their closeness to each other. The couple thanked her and • lay down. Rachel cuddled close to Dan, drawing from his strength and courage. Soon, exhausted in mind and body, both went to sleep.

  At dawn, they were awakened by Richard and brought food by Rosaria: When they finished, her brother and the rebel leader moved closer to talk.

  “Can you get the rest of the arms if we free you?” Richard asked.

  Rachel nodded. She didn’t know how much or if anything her brother had told Ramón about them.

  “How long will it take? Our position is fragile.”

  “A few weeks,” Dan responded, “Three at the most. I’ll pay for them.”

  Rachel glanced at her lover in confusion. “How?” she fretted.

  “I’ll find a way to get the money,” he reassured her.

  “We’ll force Harry to hand them over without more money.”

  “Let’s get this matter settled first, then work on him,” Dan suggested.

  Rachel looked at her brother and asked, “You’ll release us?”

  Richard smiled and said, “Today. You must leave before trouble comes. Do not let us down, Rachel; we need those arms and ammunition.”

  “You convinced Ramón to trust us?”

  “Si, I gave my word to a good friend.”

  “I won’t fail you, Rich—Ricardo.”

  “Ramón wanted to keep you here as a hostage while Capitán Slade fetched the weapons,” he disclosed. “He was going to murder you in a month if he didn’t return with them. I persuaded him you spoke the truth and to let you leave. It isn’t wise to keep such a beautiful woman in camp so long.”

  “I promise you the rest of the weapons will be in your hands soon, no matter what I have to do to get them and to protect her.”

  “We will trust you, Capitán Slade. But do not betray us again.”

  “Can we talk alone?” Rachel asked almost hesitantly.

  Richard shook his head and whispered, “It is dangerous to share the truth with anyone except close friends.”

  Rachel grasped his meaning. “When do we leave?” she asked.

  “Soon. The longer you stay, the greater the danger of your ship being confiscated and your crew captured. Our men are fetching the hidden weapons as we speak. They will arm many bands to battle our cause.”

  “I hope you win it. If there’s any way possible, we’ll send extra arms.”

  “Gracias, Rachel. Our cause is just, and we will win it; but it will require much time and bloodshed.”

  “Protect yourselves always. If—”

  Tomas and Eduardo raced into the clearing and shouted warnings of an imminent attack by Spanish soldiers. Orders were given and passed along with swiftness and efficiency. The people hurried, but did not panic. The noise of preparations and excited voices were kept at a minimum. Well-trained and experienced rebels grabbed their weapons and possessions to scatter into the encompassing landsc
ape. Only things too heavy or cumbersome to carry were abandoned along with the exposed campsite.

  “Capitán Rafael de Cardova approaches. Take these,” Richard said as he passed a pistol and machete to Dan. “Keep up and don’t lose sight of me,” he warned his sister, who appeared alarmed by the approaching peril.

  Rachel and Dan followed Richard Fleming and a small band into the jungle. The couple ran as fast as they could, but felt vulnerable in the strange surrounding. Exotic vegetation slapped them in the face and nipped at their arms. Their breathing became labored and swift; their hearts pounded; their lips and throats dried. They didn’t know if they would come out of this alive, especially if they became separated from the others.

  “Come on!” Richard shouted when Rachel lagged behind with a stitch in her side and Dan slowed to grab her hand and pull her along.

  It seemed as if they ran at top speed for two hours, with enemies blazing guns to their rear and with the cruel jungle trying to slow their pace with verdant and tangly obstacles. When shouts of “Alto!” were heard beyond and behind them, they left the dirt path to prevent being trapped between two forces of the government. Several skilled men took turns clearing a passable trail through dense vegetation with slashing machetes.

  Rachel and Dan obediently followed her brother and Ramón. Their hearts throbbed in panic and from their exertions in the humid heat. They didn’t notice their route or the lovely terrain as they mindlessly moved onward.

  They skirted a sugar plantation with cane fields that stretched for miles. The thick blades could provide concealment there if necessary. Workers paid no attention to them, as they knew what was taking place with their liberators. They moved until darkness halted them and they stopped to hide and sleep for a few hours. Exhaustion and a lack of privacy prevented questions from being asked or answers given between brother and sister. But Ramón smiled and spoke to her in Spanish.

  “He said not to be afraid,” Richard translated. “He will protect you and get you out of here safely. He knows the jungle better than the soldiers.”

  “Gracias, Ramón,” she said and smiled, seeing another side of the rebel leader, a kind and genial one she found pleasing. “After we leave here, we won’t let you down; I promise.”

  Her brother told el lider her response. Ramón Ortega smiled and nodded. He handed Rachel his canteen, told her to drink, then sleep.

  Dan was tense. He didn’t know if his ship would be waiting when—or if—they reached the coast, as he had ordered Luke to sail if trouble arose.

  At dawn, Richard awakened them. “The others are going to lead our enemies away from us so I can get you to the coast and the ship. Stay quiet, not a word; sounds carry far. Comprende?”

  Rachel and Dan nodded. Ramón and his men headed to the right, cutting a slightly obvious path to entice pursuit and deception.

  “We have to struggle through and try not to make our passing and direction noticeable.” Richard instructed. He told Dan to take the lead, that he would cover their tracks. “No broken limbs or crushed ferns,” he cautioned. “Wriggle around any obstacle without damaging it. Be ready to flee if I give the word. Get to the ship and sail. I’ll hang behind to cover your retreat and lead them on a merry chase away from you.”

  “No,” Rachel protested. “You’ll be captured and killed.”

  “Do as I say, my sister, or we will all be killed for nothing.”

  “Why are you doing this? What are you doing here?”

  “There’s no time to explain, and the less you know the better for everyone involved. Tell Mama I’m fine and I’ll be home in six to twelve months. I’ll explain everything then. A friend of mine will contact you to help you with the rest of the arms. I told Ramón you’re my sister and to trust you. Don’t let me down, Rachel. I love you, my beautiful and brave sister. Hasta luego. Now, go, before it’s too late to save any of us,” he commanded in a stern tone.

  With caution and skill, Dan urged her toward the coast, and Richard brought up the rear. Every time they stole a short breather, Rachel tried to question Richard in whispers, but her brother halted her, advising her to rest and save her energy and to wait for answers until later.

  The desperate trek was arduous and frightening, but they succeeded.

  When they reached the edge of the forest, Richard glanced at the ship beside Dan’s but it didn’t worry him. “Don’t wait for a boat,” he ordered. “Swim for the ship. I can hear the soldiers closing in.” He rushed the couple across the beach where deep sand grabbed at their feet. “Go!” he demanded when his sister hesitated. “Take her now, Slade, or she’s dead.”

  “Come with us, Richard,” she urged in panic, reaching for his arm.

  He eluded her grasp. “No, I’m safe here. Go!” he shouted again. He took a position on one knee a few feet away and began firing at his foes.

  Rachel took in the danger. From one direction, Ramón’s small group of rebels poured onto the beach to provide cover for the daring escape. From the other, a larger group of Spanish soldiers were in sight. She realized they were in the middle of what appeared to be a fierce battle in the making; the odds were against the rebel side.

  “Get her out of here!” Richard demanded, looking worried.

  As Dan yanked on Rachel’s arm and dragged her into the aquamarine sea, she resisted and yelled, “I love you! Please come with us!”

  “My place is here. Keep your promise. Damn it, Rachel, go!”

  In that moment of distraction, Richard’s vulnerable body was thrown backward as he was shot by government soldiers. Ramón and others reached him first. The rebel leader cradled the American in his arms like an injured child as the Cuban fired shot after shot at the advancing soldiers who dropped to their stomachs to make more difficult targets.

  Dan pulled Rachel farther into the crashing waves, refusing to release her hand as she jerked to free it to return to her fallen brother’s side. “No, love; we must leave. He risked his life to save yours. There’s nothing we can do against such odds and unarmed.” He had tossed his borrowed weapons back to Richard to have his hands free for swimming.

  “Let me go,” she pleaded, but Dan refused.

  An excellent and strong swimmer, Daniel headed for the boat rowing toward them. He kept his attention on Luke and on the three men with him who were covering the distance between them with speed and urgency. He heard shooting behind him and the pleas of the woman he was dragging by one arm, but he didn’t halt in his intention. He saw another ship anchored near the Merry Wind, but didn’t want to imagine who was aboard and why they were there, as neither was flying an American or other country’s flag. His crew’s behavior and a lack of response to the battle ashore told him it couldn’t be a Spanish ship.

  The boat met them and hauled them inside, then immediately headed back to the clipper. Rachel struggled to see the lethal action on the beach. Dan watched with her as Richard was thrown across Ramón’s shoulder and taken away. Neither could guess if he was alive or dead, but he clearly wasn’t being left behind to face the persistent Spanish attack. The rebels vanished into the jungle under heavy fire with the soldiers in swift pursuit.

  Rachel collapsed into Dan’s arms and wept in fear.

  No one spoke after Dan shook his head to order them to silence. The boat reached the Merry Wind and they were taken aboard.

  A man with white-blond hair and ice-blue eyes met the fatigued couple, along with armed American sailors. “I’m Peter Garrett,” he introduced himself. “A United States special agent. I was ordered to come after you, Captain Slade and Mrs. McCandless.”

  “Are we under arrest?” Dan asked as he sized up the stranger.

  Rachel prevented Peter’s reply when she shouted, “You have to go ashore and rescue my brother. He was shot. We must get him home to a doctor. Please, Dan, you can’t let them leave Richard here at the mercy of those Spanish soldiers.”

  “Your brother is fighting here?”

  “Yes. Richard Fleming, an American. He h
elped us escape. We can’t leave him; he’s wounded and I doubt they have skilled doctors here to treat him.”

  “Let’s talk in your cabin, Captain Slade; this is a serious matter.”

  “No, go rescue Richard!”

  “We can’t, Mrs. McCandless; that’s Spanish soil and we’re American officers. I’m sure his friends will take care of him. I was watching with my fieldglasses; he took a bullet in the shoulder and they got him away. Look for yourself; the soldiers are back on the beach, watching us. They’re not in pursuit.” He saw her hug the railing as her gaze studied the shore where only Spanish soldiers were watching them. “We have to sail before they alert their government to our presence; they’ll send its ships to destroy ours. We can’t be taken prisoner. I’ll stay aboard to question you two.” Peter Garrett ordered the armed sailors to return to his ship and to follow the Merry Wind close, with cannons aimed at her to halt a rash flight.

  Dan knew he couldn’t battle his country’s forces. He put Luke in charge, then guided Rachel and the agent to his quarters. The two ships got undersail within minutes.

  Rachel—dirty, sopping, her hair tangled—rushed to the mullioned windows and stared at the receding island where her only remaining brother lay wounded and in peril. She prayed for Richard’s survival and safety as tears eased down her flushed and scratched cheeks. She didn’t care if the salty liquid stung or how disheveled she looked. Her heart was filled with sadness, fearing his loss was final this time.

  “If you have brandy or the like, Captain Slade, she can use some to calm her down,” the blond-haired agent suggested. “So can you. I’m sure what you’ve experienced has been difficult.”

  Dan prepared two glasses. He walked to Rachel and pressed one into her hand. “Drink it, love, you need it.”

  Rachel tossed down the contents in almost one swallow to relieve her tension. As the fiery drink hit her throat, she coughed and struggled to breathe. Her soulful eyes watered even more and sent tears racing down her face.

  Dan wiped them away with gentleness and soothed, “That’ll make you feel better.”