- Home
- Margaret Watson
To Save His Child Page 3
To Save His Child Read online
Page 3
“That’s damn generous of you.”
She felt his gaze on her, but refused to look up.
Finally he spoke again. “I never intended to leave you that way, you know. I thought I would be back by the time you woke up.”
The unexpected tenderness in his voice made her eyes burn and her throat constrict. “That’s ancient history now,” she muttered. “I got over it a long time ago.”
“Maybe I didn’t.” His voice was as quiet as hers.
She looked at him sharply then, but he’d moved away to stare out the window. “This complicates things,” he said, almost as if he was speaking to himself. “It’s going to be harder to slip out of the country with a baby.”
“It doesn’t change anything.” Ana jerked in her arms, startled, as Lexie’s voice rose, and she soothed her daughter with one hand as she spoke. “Nothing has changed. I’m not going with you.”
“Yes, you are, Lexie.” He didn’t even bother to turn around. His gaze fixed on something outside, he continued, “It was idiocy to imagine you could stay when it was just you. Now that you have a baby to consider, how can you even begin to think you can stay in San Rafael?”
“I’ll be safe here. No one in the village would let anything happen to me.”
He turned around to look at her, and his eyes were as closed off and unreadable as a dead man’s. “What makes you think they could keep you safe?”
“What makes you think you could?” she retorted. “Are you telling me it’s safer to be on the roads, where the rebels are probably patrolling, than here in an isolated village?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And as far as whether or not I could keep you safe, that’s what I do for a living.” He smiled at her, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen anything colder in her life. “Or have you forgotten that?”
She hadn’t forgotten anything about him, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “I thought your specialty was the same as my father’s—stirring up trouble,” she said coolly. “Not rescuing people from that trouble.”
“Dammit, Lexie!” he exploded. “We don’t have time to play word games. Once we’re back in the States we can trade insults all day long, if that’s what you want. Right now, I just want you to make sure you and your baby are ready to leave in the morning. I’m not going to argue with you about this.”
He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, and stared at her. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t. Your baby. She couldn’t believe his choice of words was deliberate—that somehow made it even worse. The scorn and disdain in his eyes stabbed into her soul, but she lifted her chin as she watched him. This was reality, and she would deal with it. She’d had a lot of practice at that lately. Never would she let him see how much his words had hurt.
The bundle in her arms started wriggling, and she realized she was holding Ana much too tightly. Making sure the blanket covered her exposed breasts, she bent her head and kissed her daughter, nuzzling her soft cheek and whispering reassurances to her.
Standing, she turned her back to Caine and refastened her bra. Then, holding Ana carefully, she rebuttoned her blouse. Laying the child over her shoulder, she gently patted her back until she heard a soft burp.
There was a sound from over by the window, and when she looked at Caine she found he’d turned away again. His back was ramrod straight, and the hot, heavy air seemed suddenly thicker in the small room.
Giving Ana another kiss, Lexie carefully placed the baby in the carved wooden infant seat that had been lined with soft, woven blankets. Then she faced Caine again, her hands clasped behind her back to hide their trembling.
“Intimidation isn’t going to make me change my mind, Caine.”
He turned around slowly to face her. “I’m not trying to intimidate you.” His eyes were still devoid of expression. “I don’t have to. You’re an intelligent woman, Lexie. I don’t have to spell out to you what could happen if this El Cuchillo gets hold of you and that baby.”
She began to shake even more. “That’s not going to happen. He’d have no reason to look for an American in this village.” Who was she trying to convince? She pushed the traitorous thought out of her mind.
“You don’t think so?” His gaze hardened. “Don’t be such an idealistic little fool. I told you how easy it was for me to find you. How much reward money do you think it would take for one of the people in this village to turn you in? A few hundred dollars? A thousand? That’s a drop in the bucket for this guy. Whatever else he is, he’s apparently well-financed.”
“I’ve lived here for ten months. I take care of their children. These people wouldn’t turn me in for money.”
A flicker of expression crossed his face. It might have been pain, but it was gone too quickly to tell. “Get real, Lexie. A thousand dollars would make anyone in this village rich. Do you really think that if it was a choice between you and making sure their family was taken care of that there would be any choice at all? However much you think you’re their friend, in the end you’re a stranger here.”
“You always were such an idealist. I see that hasn’t changed,” she said, hoping the sarcasm hid her pain at his words.
He shrugged. “I’m just telling you the way it is. But if you don’t care about what happens to you, maybe you should think about the kid.”
Involuntarily she looked over at Ana. The baby sat watching the two adults, her face solemn. It was almost as if she understood what they were talking about, Lexie thought. As much to comfort herself as her child, she picked Ana up and held her close.
“The most I can promise you is that I’ll think about it. You can’t expect me to abandon my life here without a backward glance.”
He watched her and Ana for a moment, and that strange flicker passed over his face again. She was almost sure it was pain.
“You do all the thinking you want, as long as you’re ready to leave in the morning.”
Without a backward glance he strode out of the hut, closing the door carefully behind him. She couldn’t resist going to the window and watching him leave. Not once did be look back at them.
Caine walked down the main street of Santa Ysabel, his head spinning. He was a father. He had a daughter named Ana. Remembering the tiny bundle with the fuzzy, bright red hair, he realized his hands were trembling and shoved them into his pockets.
He and Lexie were parents. His mind was still numb with shock, but not so numb that he didn’t feel the pain. He had a daughter who was two months old, and Lexie hadn’t even bothered to tell him. If James hadn’t asked him to come down here and bring her home, he might never have known.
James. His step faltered as he walked down the narrow dirt street. James hadn’t said a word to him about Lexie having a baby. Remembering their conversation, he wondered if he even knew.
It didn’t matter, he told himself. He was the one who’d had a right to know. Remembering the seven long months when he’d done nothing but dream of Lexie—when memories of the two nights they’d shared were all that kept him going—a red mist of anger rose in front of his eyes. Obviously, what had happened between them hadn’t been nearly as important to her. She hadn’t even bothered to tell him she was pregnant with his child.
The pain of her betrayal burned hotter, searing into his soul. It ripped open the place, deep in his heart, where he’d buried the remains of another betrayal. Once exposed to the light, the ancient memories spilled over him like a corrosive, eating away at his heart and soul.
Trying to obliterate the pain, he let his anger flame higher. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t have been able to be there even if she had written to him. It didn’t matter that the thought of being a father filled him with a bottomless terror. It didn’t even matter that he’d always sworn he would never subject a child to his legacy of pain and anger; would never repeat the mistakes his father had made.
None of that mattered anymore. It was his child, and his responsibility. Lexie should have told
him.
But Lexie hadn’t wanted him to know, hadn’t thought it would be important to him that he had a child. He’d had the right idea all along, he told himself savagely. Relationships caused nothing but anguish. The faint wisp of hope he’d been clinging to—the one that had whispered so seductively to him eleven months ago and had beckoned like a siren again at her father’s request a week ago—shriveled up and died. She couldn’t have made her feelings about him any clearer.
And she would never find out about those absurd dreams, he vowed. His first instinct, stubbornly clung to for most of his thirty-two years, was right, after all. If you relied only on yourself, no one could ever let you down. If no one got close, it didn’t matter what they did, because it couldn’t touch you.
He and Lexie together was the most absurd idea of all. In spite of his dreams, they were from two different worlds, worlds that could never intersect. He’d come here to do a job, he thought grimly, and he would finish it. It was a job he was damned good at, and part of his job had always been hiding his true feelings. He would get her and the baby back to Washington, then he would fade out of her life as quickly and silently as he could fade into the jungle that surrounded them now.
The trees of the forest crowded close to the houses as he reached the slightly larger building that served as the only inn for Santa Ysabel, and he forced himself to put Lexie out of his mind. Something about this town had made the hair on the back of his neck stand up from the moment he’d arrived in his rented Jeep earlier in the day. He needed to pay attention to what was going on. His life—all of their lives—might depend on it.
He approached the inn warily. In reality it was nothing more than a larger house with a few extra rooms for rent. Pausing to knock on the door, he waited until a voice invited him inside before he entered.
The woman who had taken his money for the room earlier was gone. Instead there was an older man in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. He turned to Caine.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Phillip East. I rented a room earlier,” Caine answered easily.
The man nodded and smiled. “Of course.” He waved his hand in the direction of the rooms. “Make yourself at home.”
Caine’s instincts went on alert. The smile didn’t reach the man’s eyes, and he was studying Caine much too carefully. Turning his face away as if looking around the room, Caine nodded. “I thought I’d rest in my room for a while. It was a long trip.”
“But of course, Senor East. Everyone rests during the afternoon in Santa Ysabel.” The man took another hard look at him, then turned back to the stove. Caine watched him for a moment, then walked to the room he’d been given and closed the door quietly.
Nothing looked out of place, but the hair on his neck rose again. Checking the tiny traps he’d left behind, he found them all disturbed. Someone had been in his room and searched his belongings.
Grimly he looked around a second time. Whoever had been in here had done a damn professional job. If Caine hadn’t been a professional himself, he never would have known.
He gathered his belongings quickly and efficiently. Then he mussed the bed and punched in the pillow, making it look as if he’d been lying on it. If anyone glanced into the room, they would think that he’d put his things away and rested, then gone out again.
Luckily the window in his room looked out on the dense green forest behind him. Dropping his two bags onto the ground, he angled himself through the window and climbed down. Looking both ways to make sure no one had seen him leave, he stepped into the jungle and let the green sea swallow him.
Lexie listened to Ana fussing in the other room and smiled wearily at the woman sitting on her small exam table. “Your arm is healing well, Angelita. I’ll rebandage it, and you can come back in a week for me to take out the stitches.”
“Why don’t you get the little one first? My arm can wait that long.”
“I’m afraid she can’t,” Lexie answered wryly, reaching for the gauze and tape. “If I go pick her up and don’t feed her right away, they’ll hear her screaming two villages away.”
“She is a willful one.” Angelita, her best friend in the village, smiled at her. “Does she get that from you or her father?”
Lexie’s smile faltered. “I don’t know. I think both of us are pretty bullheaded.” She bent her head and tried to concentrate on Angelita’s wound.
“This is the first time you’ve even admitted that Ana has a father.” Angelita’s voice was very gentle. “This is eating at your soul, Lexie. You must do something about it. You must tell him that he has a daughter.”
Lexie pressed the last strip of tape over her friend’s wound and looked up at her, knowing the bleakness in her soul was reflected in her face. “He knows.”
Angelita looked at her for a moment, then realization sprang into her eyes. She took Lexie’s hand. “The stranger who came to the village this morning, looking for you? He is Ana’s father?”
Lexie turned away and nodded. She couldn’t bear for the other woman to see her pain. “He came looking for me to take me back to the United States. He claims that I’m in danger here from El Cuchillo.” Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face Angelita again. “I told him that I was as safe here as I would be at home.”
Angelita didn’t answer immediately, and Lexie felt a tiny lick of fear. “Why aren’t you agreeing with me, Angelita?”
“Because he may be right,” the other woman answered slowly. “El Cuchillo doesn’t want anyone from the United States in this country. There is talk of much money being offered for information about Americans.”
Fear rippled up Lexie’s spine as her friend’s words echoed Caine’s. She had assumed that Caine was just trying to scare her into listening to him. While she stared at Angelita, another cry came from the other room, more insistent this time.
“You’d better get her,” her friend said with a smile. “She’s not a very patient baby.”
Lexie nodded. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave. I want to hear more about this.”
She hurried into the other room. Just as she reached for Ana, lying in her basket, she saw a man’s shape standing in the corner of the room. He blended into the shadows, but not enough. She could just pick out his large, dark form pressed up against the wall.
As she opened her mouth to scream, he stepped away from the wall and clamped his hand over her mouth. The moment she felt his hands on her she realized it was Caine.
Bending closer to her, he breathed in her ear, “Quiet. Don’t let whoever’s out there with you know I’m here. Get rid of her so we can talk. All right?”
He kept her mouth covered until she nodded. When he let go of her, he faded into the shadows until she had to strain to see him. It was getting darker outside, and in another few minutes she wouldn’t be able to see him at all.
Trying to ignore the way her skin prickled as she felt his gaze on her, she picked up Ana and turned away from him. How had she known it was Caine the moment he’d touched her? The obvious answers all disturbed her, and she decided she must have gotten a glimpse of him as he’d moved toward her. It was a much more comfortable idea than the dangerous notion that she had recognized his touch and his scent, even after almost a year.
She carried Ana to the other room, where Angelita stood smoothing the sleeve of her dress over the bandage on her arm. The other woman watched with anxious eyes as Lexie settled herself in the chair and put Ana to her breast.
“Tell me more,” Lexie said.
“There isn’t much to tell.” Angelita shrugged. “You know how rumors are. There has been talk among some of the people of large amounts of money being offered for information about Americans in the country.”
Even in the heat, Lexie felt cold. “Are you saying that someone in the village might turn me in?” she asked carefully.
Angelita’s pause was just a hair too long. “We are all very grateful for what you’ve done, Lexie. Never before has anyone bothe
red to make sure that our children were vaccinated, or cared when one of us got sick. Even when Dr. Juan was alive, he was more concerned about pleasing his superiors at the coffee plantations than about the health of the people here. You have been good for our village.”
Lexie heard a small sound in the other room. Caine was moving closer to hear what they said. She could almost imagine his vitality seeping through the thin wall that separated them, surrounding her and chasing away the chill that had settled in her chest at Angelita’s words. Thankful for his presence in the other room, she turned to her friend again.
“Are you saying the answer is yes, that someone would turn me in?”
“I would like to say no, my friend, but I can’t. I don’t think it would come to that, but who knows what people will do for money? I think you should be careful. If this man wants to take you back home, you should consider it. You have more than yourself to think of, now.”
Lexie looked down at her daughter, snuggled drowsily in her arms, her hunger satisfied. Angelita was right. She had to think of Ana first. “All right,” she said slowly. “I’ll tell Caine I’ll leave with him. But I can’t go just yet. I have a shipment of vaccine ordered that should come any day now. Once I get it in and use it up, then I’ll leave.”
A look of sorrow passed over her friend’s face as she stood to leave. “We will all miss you, Lexie. You have brought much to this village.”
“No more than you’ve given me.” Lexie rocked her daughter and looked up at Angelita. “I’ll never forget you, Angelita. Or anyone else in Santa Ysabel. You gave me my life back.”
Angelita walked to the door, then paused before she left. “The stranger who came looking for you? He is a man who will take care of you, my friend. Listen to him.”