Under Cover Of Darkness

by Elizabeth White

  “Guard it with your life, boy,” Jack said in Spanish to Tomás.

  Tomás flashed his quick smile and snapped Jack’s picture.

  “So, Jack—” Rose St. John set her tray on a table and perched on the end of the chair next to him. “Meg hasn’t told us much about you. Did you grow up in Texas?”

  Distracted by the sight of Meg climbing out of the pool with Valentina clinging monkeylike to her waist, he answered without thinking. “Yes, ma’am. Eagle Pass.”

  The curiosity in Meg’s eyes as she dropped cross-legged onto the concrete beside her father warned Jack that he’d better be careful.

  “Jack doesn’t talk about himself,” Meg said, tucking the little girl into her lap. “I don’t even know where Eagle Pass is.”

  Jack glanced at George, who pulled Meg into a hug. It was clear from his watchful expression that the man was waiting for Jack’s answer. “It’s down on the border.”

  “Is that where you met your friend who led you to Christ?” Meg smiled up at her father, as if to say See, he’s a good guy.

  “That’s right.” Out of the corner of his eye Jack saw Rose’s expression relax. Her husband, however, frowned.

  “Discipleship is critical,” George said mildly enough, but Jack heard the warning. Apparently the good doctor was more generous with his material possessions than with his daughter.

  Which, as far as Jack was concerned, was not a bad thing. “I’ve attended Meg’s church a time or two,” he said.

  Meg started to speak, but her father forestalled her. “And where do you see yourself, say, five years down the road?”

  Jack smiled at the doctor’s “Boy, this better be a good answer” tone. “It’s pretty clear God has some kind of plan for my life,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just not sure what it is right now.”

  George looked dissatisfied, but Rose said brightly, “Do you still have family down south, Jack?”

  Jack smiled. “Real far south. My mother went back to Mexico.”

  “Ah.” Rose rattled the ice in her glass. “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “You can have mine,” said little Valentina Santos unexpectedly, and all the adults laughed.

  “Your mommy might not like that,” Meg said, kissing the top of the child’s head.

  “I can do a fish-face,” Valentina announced, hanging on to the spotlight. “Athena’s too little.” She arched her brows, sucked in her cheeks and wiggled her puckered lips.

  Relieved at the shift in conversation, Jack sat back and enjoyed the sight of the three other adults and Tomás mimicking a four-year-old’s facial contortions. Dr. St. John seemed to be the only grown-up who could get it right.

  Meg dissolved in laughter as Tomás aimed the camera at her father. “You’re caught on film, Dad!”

  “Reckon they teach fish-faces in medical school?” Jack stood up and plucked Valentina out of Meg’s lap, then extended a hand. “Come on, let’s go show the kids what to do with a sparkler.”

  “Okay.” Taking Jack’s hand up, Meg smiled at Tomás. “I asked Dad to get some bottle rockets, too. Want to come?”

  “Bottle rockets?” Tomás looked puzzled.

  Jack translated, demonstrating with his hands. “Trust me, it’ll be right up your alley.”

  Tomás leaped to his feet, handing the camera reverently over to its owner. “I’ll be back,” he said.

  The four of them left the lights by the pool and crossed the lawn through the mounting darkness, Jack carrying Valentina.

  Meg looked up as a Roman candle exploded overhead in a shimmer of red and gold. “So you grew up in Eagle Pass.”

  “Yes.” Jack felt his body coil. He should have known she wouldn’t be able to leave that alone.

  “Come on, a little more information would be nice.” She bumped his elbow with hers. “What happened to your parents?”

  Jack was used to telling partial truths, but found himself stumbling with Meg. Every lie he built between them was going to matter. He measured his words. “I don’t remember much about them. I was really small when they went back to Mexico.”

  Meg took a sharp breath. “Without you? They left you on the street?”

  Jack could feel compassion radiating from Meg in almost physical waves.

  “Pretty much. Child Protective Services put me in a home, but I started running with a gang when I was about ten.” Jack paused. “Before I had a chance to get in much trouble, though, one of my elementary school teachers snatched me up and made me fly right.”

  “Must have been a special lady. Was she a Christian?”

  “Yes, she was.” Jack smiled at her automatic assumption.

  “You need to call her,” Meg said. “I bet she’d love to know what happened to you.”

  “Maybe.” He sighed. “I still don’t know why she cared anything about me.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  Jack hesitated. If he kept handing little pieces of his life to Meg, could he trust her not to throw them back at him later in a moment of confrontation?

  “She took me home with her after school sometimes and fed me. I stole things from her. Money from her purse, mostly.” He glanced at Meg and found her eyes swimming with tears.

  “Did she know?”

  “I don’t think so. Before long, I realized anything I needed, she would make sure I got. She and her husband wanted kids but couldn’t have any.” Jack shifted Valentina in his arms. “I quit stealing things, but I still lied to her and shucked off into trouble every chance I got.” Meg grabbed his hand and squeezed, and he was suddenly grateful for the darkness. “When I’ve told you more than you want to know, just say ‘when.’”

  “It’s just that I want so bad to fix what happened to you, and I can’t.”

  “Well, that’s just it. As nice to me as Mrs. Rook was, as hard as she tried, she couldn’t make me whole. I used to look at people like you and wonder why I didn’t deserve—”

  “Jack, half the time I feel guilty for being so happy.” Jack could hear Meg’s voice wobbling. “But I do know Jesus is in control, and He’s put me where I am for a reason.”

  Jack could only breathe, throat working. “Maybe some of us are here to take out the adversary.”

  “Not by yourself! Nobody’s strong enough—”

  “If the life I’ve lived to this point is going to have any meaning at all, Meg, that’s got to be it.”

  He felt no relief in having emptied his soul at her feet, only a clearer understanding of the chasm between them. He was going to have to stop this right now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Meg had forgotten she had Jack by the hand until he let go. They had stopped walking, while Tomás went on to join the others.

  Valentina had fallen asleep; pressing her higher on his shoulder, Jack looked up as a bottle rocket streaked past and exploded against a fence post. His hard profile bore an expression Meg couldn’t interpret.

  After a moment he sighed and looked at her. Even against the chancy light of sparklers hissing in the background, Meg could see a longing in Jack’s eyes that quickened her heartbeat and made her take a step toward him.

  “I’m not going to ask you out, Meg,” he said, halting her in her tracks.

  “Wh-what?” she stammered.

  “You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met, but your father would cut my liver out if I made a move on you.” His mouth quirked.

  The double-edged effect of the compliment wrapped in such blistering candor took her breath away. She stared at him, speechless, shaking her head.

  “Oh, yeah, he would, and I have too much respect for your respect for him to step over that boundary.”

  “Daddy doesn’t know you.”

  “That’s right, and what he doesn’t know, he’d like even less than what he sees.” He paused. “I sort of hinted at this before, but…Meg, I really need you to back off. If I ever kiss you, there won’t be any going back, and I just can�
�t afford to go there, okay?”

  Feeling her cheeks flame, sucker punched, she could only be grateful for the darkness. “What did I ever do to give you the idea I like you that way?”

  “Meg, come on. You’re a perfect lady, but there’s some major tension going on between us.” He seemed to be picking his words with care. “Look, you should know I’m not going to be here much longer. You’re all wrapped up in your church and your family, and I’m moving on at the end of the summer.”

  Through a haze of pain and embarrassment, she said, “Does Sam know?”

  Jack nodded, a jerky dip of his head. “He knows. I just thought it was only fair to tell you before…well, you know.”

  He walked off, leaving Meg to gather herself as best she could. After a moment she followed, the words If I ever kiss you sending sparkles of longing through her chest. Until he’d said that, she hadn’t realized how much she wanted him to.

  Jack handed Valentina, still sound asleep, over to her father, then sat down beside Bernadette on the tailgate of the hay wagon. All the fireworks having been consumed, Ramón swayed gently with his sleeping daughter in his arms as he talked to Manny and Tomás. Something to do with baptism.

  Jack hardly listened. His focus was on Meg, who sat down, glassy-eyed, on the other side of her roommate. He knew he had hurt her badly. It was one of those situations where he had to do it now to avoid exponential pain in the future.

  He had no idea how long it would take to put the Warner outfit in jail; until then he couldn’t tell anybody—especially Meg—who he was. She would eventually find out, of course. But by then, if he did his job well, she would have developed a thorough disgust of him.

  Even if Meg were to forgive all the truths he’d kept hidden from her to this point, he could just see George St. John’s face if Jack offered to take his daughter off to some lonely border outpost. During long stretches of living undercover, maintaining a relationship was next to impossible. Jack had seen marriage after marriage crash and burn. Meg deserved better.

  Depressed, he reminded himself of the immediate goal—working his way inside this smuggling organization. Herrera hadn’t yet given him details of the next run on the border, but had promised they would meet soon.

  Angry voices exchanging Spanish insults snagged Jack’s attention, and he looked up to see Tomás ducking away from his older brother’s attempt to grab him by the arm.

  “I’m old enough to make this decision on my own.” Tomás folded his arms and stepped closer to Ramón.

  “You were baptized as a baby,” said Manny, lifting his hands. “Why do you need to do it again?”

  Tomás’s chin came up. “I gave my life to Christ in a new way, Manuelo. I read it in the Bible. It’s called being born again.”

  “The Bible is for priests to read and explain to us.” Manny glanced at Ramón. “He doesn’t know enough to understand it.”

  “That’s because we never went to church back in Mexico,” said Tomás. “But Meg gave me a Bible, and I did read it. I’m not stupid, and I’m going to stay here and go to school this fall so I can understand it all. I might even be a photographer to put myself through college like Meg’s father did.” The boy’s defiance turned to cajoling. “Please, Manny, I just want to be baptized. It’s what Jesus told me to do. Torres says he’ll do it if I will.”

  Every eye focused on Jack.

  “You’ve never been baptized?” asked Benny.

  “He’s never been baptized?” Meg echoed.

  Manny looked an accusation at Jack. “How come you are leading my little brother astray?”

  Just shoot me now, Jack thought. Among other complicated questions, Tomás had brought up the issue of baptism this morning on the way to the church, as they rode alone in the back of the truck. Jack had answered what he could and deferred the rest to Pastor Ramón.

  Now he was backed into the proverbial corner. He needed Manny’s goodwill, yet he was most inconveniently reluctant to discourage Tomás’s obedience to Scripture.

  Plus, there was Meg’s eager gaze fixed on his face.

  Jack found himself lifting his hands in an attempt to placate Manny. “All I said was, I got baptized as a baby myself, but there comes a time when a man has to make decisions of his own. Who you gonna follow, know what I’m saying? Doesn’t mean you turn your back on the church or put down your parents’ dedication ceremony. Just says you’re making a new start.” He glanced at Ramón, who nodded and gave him a quick thumbs-up. He could hear Benny quietly translating his words into English for Meg.

  Manny’s face was a study in confusion. “I’ll think about it. You and I have much to discuss.” Looking at Meg, he switched to English. “Ma’am, we thank you for the meal and fireworks. We must go home and get ready for work tomorrow.” He gestured to Tomás and Diego. “¡Vamanos!”

  Jack slid off the tailgate, avoiding Meg’s eyes. “Thanks for the party, St. John. See you in the morning.” He shook hands with Ramón. “Find a couple of hours in your schedule this week, Preacher, and I’ll stomp you in a game of racquetball.”

  “In your dreams,” Ramón said with a grin. “Appreciate the help with the yard,” he called as Jack followed the Herrera men toward the front driveway where they’d parked.

  Waving a reply, Jack forced himself not to glance over his shoulder at Meg. He was going to have enough trouble sleeping as it was.

  Warner picked up the phone on the first ring, checking the other side of the bed to make sure Jeri was still asleep. She mumbled something about plugging in her curling iron, then rolled over with the pillow covering her head.

  Tucking the cordless phone between his shoulder and ear, Warner dragged his pants on and padded barefoot downstairs.

  “Don’t call this number again,” he said as he sank into his recliner in the family room. “You’ll wake up my family.”

  The Wolf laughed. “Like I care.”

  “You’ll care if we get caught,” Warner growled. “What do you want?”

  “I want money,” said the Wolf. “I got guys down at the border sitting on ready, but they’ll go elsewhere if we don’t start the show soon. What’s the holdup?”

  “Hiring transportation,” said Warner. “We’ve just found a guy—new man in our company. Bilingual, been in prison for trafficking. He got out when he turned in somebody bigger.”

  “Really.” To Warner’s relief, the Wolf sounded a bit less contemptuous than usual, maybe even satisfied.

  “Yeah. We’ve got the run set up for the nineteenth. Tell your men to hold on for two weeks and we’ll make it worth their while.”

  Silence crackled over the phone for a moment. “They’ll hold on,” said the Wolf, “but I need cash now. Five hundred dollars by Thursday or I’ll turn you in. You can leave it in our safety deposit box.”

  Warner’s patience snapped. “I don’t have money to give away. And if you turn me in, your little cash cow dries up.”

  “Warner, I happen to know you just joined the country club last week. You’re rolling in it. So pay up—or you don’t pass ‘Go’ and you don’t collect two hundred dollars.”

  Warner was in too deep now to back out. He had bills that couldn’t be put off. His biggest mistake had been working through El Lobo without knowing the man’s identity. Maybe there was a way to track him down.

  Fear coiled in Warner’s belly as he clicked off the phone. Prison was not on his list of vacation spots this year.

  On Thursday afternoon, Jack stayed after work to help Meg pull plant material for the next day. It was a backbreaking and monotonous job. After clearing the end of the largest greenhouse and cordoning it off with fluorescent tape, they moved the three-gallon plants closer together, then began shifting flats of color. Having everything together would speed up loading in the morning.

  Meg would have done it by herself, but she was relieved when Jack offered. Surprised, too. He’d kept his distance since the Fourth of July party, and she hadn’t pushed him. What else was there to do
when a guy told you in no uncertain terms to back off?

  Better to take a leaf out of Benny’s book and avoid men altogether.

  Still, as she crouched between two rows of impatiens to check for consistent color and leaf density, Meg was very aware of being alone with Jack in the moist, warm interior of the greenhouse.

  “I called Miss Dottie last night,” he said suddenly, as if continuing a conversation.

  Startled, Meg glanced over her shoulder. “Who?”

  Jack looked at her through the feathery foliage of a Japanese maple. “My teacher. The one who helped me when I was a kid.”

  Meg’s defenses dropped. “What did she say?”

  Jack set the tree in the corner with the others and arched his back. “She asked me how I was doing, why I hadn’t been to see her in such a long time.”

  “I told you she’d be glad to hear from you.” Meg crab-walked along the row, examining plants. “These are fine. Let’s take the first ten out of both rows.” She glanced at Jack again and found him bent over, hands on his knees. “What’s the matter?”

  Jack spoke downward, voice harsh. “Meg, she’s dying.”

  Meg sat down and stared at him. “Oh, Jack.”

  “She needs a kidney transplant.” Jack turned his head to look at Meg, and her stomach clenched at the sorrow in his eyes. “I wish I could give her one of mine.”

  “I know you do. I don’t know what to say.”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you.” Jack squatted beside Meg, close enough that his knee brushed hers. “But I figured you could pray for her.”

  “Of course I will.” She wanted to touch him, but didn’t dare.

  “What bothers me most,” he continued, “is I don’t know what her husband’s gonna do when she dies. Vernon’s kind of a jerk, but he loves Miss Dottie.” Jack looked away, absently fingering the petals of a lipstick-colored impatiens. “On top of everything else, he’s apparently made some real dumb investments, and they could lose their property. No family to bail them out, and I can’t help. I don’t have any money, and even if I did, they wouldn’t let me give it to them.”