by Connie Mann
“I thought we were going to Erexim?”
“Too obvious. Time to lay low for a bit.”
Regina watched him and had to admire his ability to deal with this kind of situation as if it were no more stressful than a casual vacation. How would it be to have such confidence, such faith in one’s ability? She supposed she’d probably never know, but right now, even though her own neediness galled her, his calm competence provided a safe harbor in a world gone mad.
He drove several kilometers, then turned onto an even narrower road, and finally a dirt track that wound its way deeper and deeper into the woods. When he finally stopped the car and cut the ignition, the sudden stillness was deafening. After a minute though, she could make out birdcalls and the rush of water close by.
Brooks swung his door open and came around to open hers. His unconscious acts of courtesy never ceased to surprise her. “We’ll camp here tonight,” he said, offering her a hand up.
Her glasses slipped down her nose and she pushed them up again, wondering at the direct way he seemed to be studying them. Because his perusal made her uncomfortable, she raised her chin a notch. “Is there a problem, Senhor?”
He studied her a moment longer, then turned away and began unloading the trunk. “If you want a bath, I suggest you take one now. It’ll be too cold to do it later.”
The thought of washing, not just her hands, but all of her, sounded delicious. But in the river, in broad daylight, with him nearby?
As if sensing her hesitation, he said, “I’ll stay here with the kid. I won’t peek.” He paused, then added, “Unless you ask nice.”
If there’d been even a hint of a smile when he’d said that, she would have shrugged it off as a joke. But he didn’t smile, never really had that she could tell. Certainly not around her. She rummaged in her bag for clean clothes, but then realized she had no soap. Only her ever-present supply of moist towelettes.
To her astonishment, he dropped a tiny bar of soap, a mini bottle of shampoo, and a sweatshirt into her hands. “That’ll have to do as a towel.”
“Obrigada.”
He had already turned to lift Eduardo from the car. With a deftness that surprised her, he spread out the sleeping bag one-handed and diapered the boy like he’d done it all his life. When he looked up and saw her watching him, she could have sworn she saw a flicker of embarrassment cross his face. But it disappeared so fast she was sure she’d imagined it. “You going, or not? Otherwise, take the kid and I’ll go.”
She didn’t need any more prompting. She marched in the direction of the rushing water and set her clothes on a nearby rock. The spot took her breath away. The river ran wide here, crystal clear as it tumbled down from the mountain. She scanned both sides as far as she could see and breathed easier when she spotted no one.
A quick glance over her shoulder in the direction of their camp and she tugged her sweater off, then her blouse. Quickly, she slipped off her shoes and skirt, and then debated briefly over removing her underwear. She paused to listen. The quiet reassured her, so she stripped off the rest of her clothes and waded in.
The cold water robbed her of breath and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Goose bumps formed on top of goose bumps and her teeth began an annoying chatter. Clamping them firmly shut, she ducked her head under, and came up gasping. With a speed that would have been comical to watch, she lathered her hair, soaped her body, and ducked under for a quick rinse.
The rock where she’d put her things sat in a patch of sunlight, and his sweatshirt felt gloriously warm. She scrubbed until her skin tingled, then gave in to temptation and inhaled the clean, masculine scent trapped in the cloth. It smelled like Brooks, strong and without pretense. Alarmed at her own reaction, she pulled on clean clothes and then tossed the soggy sweatshirt toward the rock.
As though she was watching in slow motion, the sweatshirt hit the rock, dislodging her glasses. They sailed through the air in a graceful arc and disappeared in the river. “Noooo!” Without thinking, she lunged for them. She had to get them. She needed them.
In her haste, she lost her footing. Windmilling her arms to regain her balance, her right foot had just slid into the water when a strong arm circled her waist, swung her back up onto the river bank and set her on her feet.
The need to cling when he set her down sent sparks flying. “What did you do that for? I needed those!” She advanced on him, poking him in his hard chest with every step.
He stopped and planted both hands on his hips. “Sorry. Could have sworn you yelled for help.” He whirled around and headed back to camp.
“I need my glasses.” She trotted to keep up with him. “I’ve got to have them.”
“Well, I guess you’re going to have to live without them.”
He was an odious man. Totally without feeling. Everything was matter-of-fact to him. Glasses got lost? No problem. Do without them. Well, it wasn’t that simple.
She was still in high temper when she marched into camp, and judging from how tightly he had his jaw clamped, he wasn’t much happier. Fine. He wanted a fight; she’d give him one. It would certainly relieve all this tension.
She checked on Eduardo, who sprawled in the middle of the sleeping bag sucking on his toes; and she then turned to start dinner. Nothing like banging pots together and rattling a few pans to work off some energy.
She was making him crazy. Or maybe she had always been crazy and it was rubbing off on him. Either way, she riled him like no female he’d ever known. He tried to snatch her out of the water, and she left nail imprints in his chest to thank him for his trouble. He crumpled his clean clothes in one fist and headed for the river.
On the way, his eyes passed over her and his temper snapped. She was scrubbing again. She’d just taken a bath and now she raked those blasted towelettes over her hands like they were pots with crud stuck on the bottom. Without considering the consequences, he marched over and snatched the towelettes out of her hands. “Stop it. You’re obsessed.”
She tried to grab them back, and he shoved them into his jeans pocket.
“Give those back. You have no right.”
She reached for the pocket of his jeans and he clamped a hand over hers.
“You don’t want to do that,” he warned.
Her cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes snapped like a fire ready to explode. “Stop telling me what I do and don’t want to do!” she shouted. “You don’t know me, and I’ve had all I can take of you ordering me around.”
He spread his arms out at his sides. “Fine. Go ahead and get them. I won’t stop you.”
Her eyes narrowed as she considered the dare. Head high, she whirled and grabbed several more towelettes. She tore them open with jerky movements, and something about her desperation tugged at his heart in ways he didn’t like at all. What was she so desperate to wash away?
Deliberately, he advanced on her. “Are we going to have to do this all over again?” he asked quietly.
“Just. Leave. Me. Alone.” Each word punctuated by more scrubbing.
“Can’t,” he drawled. “Last time I did I got bashed in the head.”
That stubborn chin shot up just as he’d known it would, and the flames in her eyes were truly a sight to behold. With her hair shorter and curling around her shoulders, and without those atrocious glasses, Regina da Silva was gorgeous. The thought stopped him in his tracks. Seeing her this way was like looking at a stranger.
She was also madder than a wet hen and ready to peck a strip off his hide. For some absurd reason, he could deal with her temper easier than her earlier desperation. He kept walking toward her, proud of the way she held her ground, even though uncertainty flashed through those delightful eyes. He reached out, stripped the sodden bits of paper from her fingers, and tossed them on the ground. Then, without quite knowing why it mattered to him, he lowered his mouth to hers and offered comfort in the only way he knew how.
15
FOR AN INSTANT, SHE WAS TOO STUNNED
TO RESPOND. HIS SCENT ENVELoped her just like the warmth of his worn sweatshirt had earlier. His lips were soft, like the cotton fabric. They brushed over hers with exquisite care, the merest brush of skin on skin. He tasted like he smelled, strong and completely, utterly masculine.
The knowledge of what he was doing, of what she was letting him do, shocked her and she gasped.
He instantly deepened the kiss, but he didn’t assault, or try to conquer; he sipped and savored as though she were a fine wine. There was that odd tenderness again, the part of him she glimpsed only rarely, but that always left her shaking and uncertain. She drifted in the haze of sensations, even as a part of her told her she should turn tail and run.
Suddenly, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer. In an instant, everything changed. Where the kiss had seemed innocent only seconds ago, now it turned threatening, a harbinger of things to come. Instead of making her feel safe, now those arms felt like cords of steel, keeping her in place.
Her lethargy gone in a flash of panic, she fought him, shoving, twisting. She was ready to take a chunk out of him when he set her away and cupped her face in his hands.
“Easy. You want me to stop, say so. Don’t you bite me again,” he warned.
She struggled to slow her racing heart and looked into his eyes. She saw temper in their stormy depths, to be sure, but something else she couldn’t name, wouldn’t even try.
Without warning, he scooped up his clothes and headed for the river.
Regina stared after him for a long time, her emotions roiling. Twice now he’d kissed her. And she’d liked it. At least until he got too intense. Not once had he tried to force her into anything.
She scooped up the towelettes, amazed. For the first time in her life, a man’s touch hadn’t made her feel dirty and ashamed. Maybe it was because Brooks wasn’t like other men. And maybe there was more to this man-woman thing than she thought. A strange anticipation filled her as she opened a can of black beans for their supper.
His dip in the icy cold water cooled his frustration, but not his body. The woman tied him in knots. Coming back into camp and hearing her humming didn’t help.
To take his mind off her, he crouched down and built a small fire. She inched over and peered over his shoulder. “What is that?”
“C4.” He glanced up and sighed. So much for staying away from her. “It’s an explosive.”
Her eyes widened in alarm as he struck a match. “And you’re going to light it?”
“Yeah, I thought we’d blow up the beans. Heats them quicker.”
Gauging his expression, she grinned. “Sure, I’ll get the pot so we can catch whatever comes back down.”
He couldn’t suppress a half smile of his own. “Might make for an interesting meal.”
She watched the flame take hold and he saw her worried expression. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
The look she pierced him with went straight to his heart. “It seems Eduardo and I have no choice but to trust you, Senhor. You, and God.”
She turned back to get the beans, but he stayed where he was, tending the fire with hands that weren’t quite steady.
“Don’t trust me,” he wanted to say. “I’m not worth it.” His eyes went to the kid, gurgling and flailing his arms, and then to the woman preparing their meal, and he knew he would protect them both with his dying breath.
He only hoped that would be enough. If not, their only hope was God, and Brooks had lost faith in Him eighteen years ago.
How had they vanished again? He had combed the streets of Erexim for hours, and found no sign of them. They hadn’t stopped for gas or groceries either, because as far as he could tell, he’d been to every single gas station and mercado. Since the gas tanks on both their cars were about the same size, they couldn’t have gone on without filling up.
Which meant one of two things: Either he hadn’t found the right gas station yet, or they had gotten off on one of the side roads and were lying low.
He got back into his car and continued up and down the streets. He’d give it several more hours, then he’d head back south and start looking off the beaten path.
Darkness had settled in by the time the phone rang. Brooks slipped it out of his shirt pocket and flipped it open. “Oi.”
Moving over to sit beside her by the fire, he handed it to her and mouthed, “The Colonel.”
“Good evening.” Regina held the phone so Brooks could listen, too, but his nearness did all sorts of things to her concentration.
“Ah, Regina, is that you?”
“It is. How are you, Colonel?”
“I’m well, but I’m concerned about you. I’ve been trying to contact you for days, but no one’s answering at House of Angels.”
Yet she’d left a message at his office only hours ago. “Colonel, the other night, someone shot at the orphanage.”
“What? Are you all right?”
She thought his concern sounded genuine. “Yes, we’re fine. Did you hear about the fire?”
“Yes, I read about it in the newspaper. I’ve been frantic, wanting to make sure all was well. Was anyone hurt?”
She looked at Brooks, who gave a negative shake of his head. She prayed God would forgive the small lie. “No, no one. But I’ve taken the children somewhere else for a few days.”
“Excellent. Where are you, so I can drop by and see you?”
Again, the negative shake of his head.
“That won’t be possible for a bit, Colonel, but I thank you for your interest in myself and the children.”
“I’m not sure I like the secretive sound of this, Regina. What’s going on?” His voice had lost its fatherly tone.
“As I said, someone shot at us the other night.” She paused to draw a deep breath. “I need to know what you know about it.”
“Me? What could I possibly know?”
“You were the one who suggested a guard just before this happened, Colonel,” she said quietly. “If I’m to keep the children safe, I need to know what’s going on.”
“I wish I could help you, Regina, but there’s really nothing I can tell you. I’ll see what I can find out and get back to you. Will you be at this number?”
“Yes. Thank you, Colonel.”
After she hung up, they just looked at each other, and for once Regina welcomed his nearness. “You were right. He knows a lot more than he’s saying.” She turned to gaze into the fire. “It’s so hard to think he could be involved in this.”
Brooks turned her face to his with one finger under her chin. It wasn’t a grasp, just guidance, without restriction. She could pull away if she chose. “We don’t know anything for sure. Yet.”
16
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, REGINA JIGGLED EDUARDO ON HER HIP AND watched Brooks with unabashed interest. He must have taken another bath earlier, for his dark hair glistened in the predawn light. But her curiosity about what he was doing had her inching closer. He’d taken their small fire and banked it to a mere smolder and then had taken a map and burned just one edge. Now he’d set it casually near the coals.
“What are you doing?”
He shot her one of those almost-grins over his shoulder. “Setting up a bit of insurance.”
At her blank expression, he beckoned her over.
“C4 burns very hot. It will also explode if stomped on.” He repositioned the map just so and rose. “We leave it like this, with just the ends smoldering slowly. If our friend happens by and sees the partially burned map . . .”
“He’ll stomp on it,” she finished.
“Bingo. Let’s get a move on.”
They wound their way back to the main road via a very circuitous route, and when they reached Erexim, he filled the gas tank with astonishing speed. The elevation continued to climb the farther north they went, and as the day progressed, so did the traffic. Driving the two-lane highways in Brazil would terrify the faint of heart, but Brooks handled them like a pro. More than once, they had to pull over when a tru
ck heading down the hill moved into their lane to pass. The general rules of the road said that the bigger vehicle had the right of way. Never mind in whose lane it actually traveled.
About mid-afternoon, he flipped open the cell phone. “Carol Anderson, please.” After the barest of pauses, he said, “Mom. How’re things going?” Regina watched his jaw tighten and all expression vanish from his face. “Uh-huh. Well, I wanted to let you know I may be a few days later getting home than I thought.” Another pause, longer this time. “Why would Francisco Lopez be calling you?”
Beside him, Regina’s eyes widened.
“Uh-huh. Yes, Eduardo is fine. What do you know about this, Mom? It’s important.”
Regina thought she heard him grinding his teeth.
“Can’t or won’t?” he demanded, swerving as a car passed him so closely it almost took the side mirror off. “When will you stop defending him?”
He tossed the phone into the back seat and shot around three trucks, almost forcing a lumber truck off the road. The driver’s shouting could have raised the dead.
Regina waited for the steam to quit billowing from his ears before she asked, “Is your mother okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“Noah.”
If possible, his expression grew even harder. “He may die.”
Regina had to take several deep breaths before she whispered, “What?”
He spared her one quick glance. “Sorry, I thought everyone in the organization knew. Heart attack. Bad one. Lots of damage.”
He sounded like they were discussing a stranger, she realized, while her entire world shifted for the second time in less than a week. Noah Anderson had been like a father to her since she was fifteen years old. He had rescued her and Irene from the streets, had taken her to America, had led her to Christ. How could he be ill and nobody have told her?
“How long have you known?” she managed.
He shrugged. “Few days.”
Regina looked carefully past his sheen of indifference and wasn’t fooled. It was amazing how well she’d learned to read him the few days they’d been together. He was more affected than he was letting on.
