Читать книгу River of Secrets - Lynette Eason - Страница 12

Where was she? Juan wondered. He’d planned to ask Amy to eat with him, but she was nowhere to be found. So he’d found a table with Jonathas and Salvador, yet couldn’t help wondering what Amy was doing.

When she didn’t return in time for lunch, he finished up and decided to lie down for a while. He hated to admit that he needed to rest, but his body had flashed neon warnings in the form of a throbbing headache and aching muscles. When he woke up two hours later, his headache was gone and Amy still hadn’t returned. He questioned Anna, who said she’d gone into town to run a few errands. He stayed busy on the wing, waiting for her to get back.

Lucas declared it was good therapy for building his stamina back up. Now, as he worked, his eyes kept straying to the plastic-covered opening, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dark blond head or slender profile. Juan shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to fall for her. He had no idea who he was. He didn’t even have a real name.

Shrugging those thoughts off, he watched Salvador and Jonathas work together, building the opposite wall. The two had hit it off pretty well despite their age difference. The wall was coming together and the wing should be finished before too long.

He slammed the hammer onto the nail. Bam.

And the memory was there. He jerked, sat with a thump on the wooden floor. The jungle smell—wet, fresh, teeming with life. He hefted the machete and chopped another vine out of his path. Men followed. The mansion sat just ahead. The other SEALs were in the water. His job was to disarm the alarm system. Someone else listened in on everything as he monitored the mission.

“You almost done with that part of the wall?”

Juan whirled to find Romero, the orphanage’s resident handyman, standing behind him. A large dark man in a sweat-drenched white tank top, the tattoo on his left upper bicep rippled on top of bulging muscles. His tool belt hung low on his lean hips, and his white teeth flashed in the blazing sun, competing with the gleam of matching gold in his nose and ear.

The memory still spun through Juan’s mind like a movie out of control. He cleared his throat and said, “Uh, yeah. Just taking a little break.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with the towel he kept stuffed in the back pocket of his green cargo shorts.

Why was he tramping through the jungle with a team of SEALs? Where was the mansion that he could now picture in detail? Had he been a SEAL?

“Miss Anna sent this out to you.” Romero handed Juan a plastic cup full of ice-cold lemonade. He downed it in one swallow, his mind still rippling from the memory. “Obrigado.”

“Welcome.”

Thunder rumbled, and Romero looked at the sky. “Storm’s coming.”

Juan peered up through a break in the canopy above him and eyed the restless sky that only moment ago had been cloudy but sunny. Now the clouds rolled and swirled, obliterating the sun. Thunder boomed and a flash of lightning encouraged him to hurry and put away his tools.

He called to the teens who were packing up, “Come on guys, we’re done here. Let’s get inside before we get soaked—or electrocuted.”

The young men wasted no time gathering their things, and the four of them headed for the plastic door that led to the newly renovated main building. Salvador walked beside him down the brightly lit hallway. “How’re you doing, Sal?”

Salvador’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “All right, I guess.”

“How’s Carlita? Has she spoken yet?”

Salvador took a deep breath. “She will be fine. She will speak when she is ready. Everyone just needs to stop trying to force her. She is my family. I will take care of her.”

The intensity of the young man’s words hit Juan. He studied Salvador and saw the fierce love for his sister reflected there. “Maybe you’re right, Sal. We just want to see her get better, that’s all.”

Salvador swallowed hard, visibly forcing himself to relax. “I know, Senhor Juan, I just want to help her and don’t know how, sometimes it makes me…” He broke off and gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

Juan’s heart ached for this brother of the young girl. So much responsibility at such a young age. He should be getting ready to graduate college, be enjoying his youth, discovering his place in the world. Instead, his family was dead and he had a little girl to raise. “I know. You’re doing a great job. Still, I wish she could see a child psychologist or some kind of counselor.”

Salvador threw his shoulders back and said, “Thank you for your concern, senhor. I think I will go see if she is ready to go to supper.”

Juan watched the young man branch off to the right to head down to the room he shared with his sister. That was one thing Juan really liked about this orphanage. They didn’t separate siblings. They kept them together as much as possible. Salvador and Carlita shared a suite with another brother and sister pair. It was a dorm-room design. Twin beds sat on opposite walls, with a bathroom in between the two rooms. There was a short wall that allowed privacy when changing clothes in the room. Each child had a chest of drawers and shared a small closet for hanging clothes. Some of the older teens even had televisions in their rooms that got certain approved channels from the satellite dish. Of course, if one wished to have living quarters separate from his or her sibling that could be arranged, too. Most orphanages had a boys’ living area and a girls’ living area.

Juan stepped inside the temporary tool storage room and set his tool belt on the shelf. The construction crew from Manaus had been hired to do most of the work with funds from donations, but Anna was very careful with the expenditures. By allowing some of the orphanage workers to help, it provided jobs for those who otherwise wouldn’t be working. And besides, construction out here in the jungle moved slowly. The intermittent storms often sent the main workers home early. But those laborers from the orphanage could wait out the storm and then go back to work.

Juan headed to his private staff room to shower and get ready for supper himself.

“Senhor?”

Juan stopped and turned. Jonathas approached him and asked, “Senhor, did you find out about the darts from the gym?”

Juan studied the young man. “No, we haven’t heard anything yet. Why?”

Jonathas shrugged. “I was just wondering.”

Was he really just wondering or was there more to it than that? After all, the darts were gone when he and Lucas arrived on the scene—and Jonathas was there. But he had a legitimate reason for being there. Juan himself had told the boy to come find him when he was ready to work on the orphanage wing. And yet…

Juan clapped Jonathas on the back and said, “I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

“Okay. See you at supper.” The boy turned back. “Oh, hey, don’t forget the picnic tomorrow.”

“What picnic?”

“The one I hear they have every year. They even have a dunking booth. Get ready to get soaked.” He disappeared around the corner.

Juan grumbled, “Oh, yeah, that picnic. Who says I’m gonna volunteer?”

The next morning, right before sunrise, Amy continued her daily tradition of her dockside quiet time. Her stomach was still in knots, and she needed some guidance. After calling the McKnight family again—and again getting no answer, she gathered her Bible and notebook and headed out, only to come across Jonathas in the jeep driving toward her. She called, “Good morning. You’re up early.”

The seventeen-year-old pulled up to a stop next to her and said, “Bom dia, senhorita. My morning routine. I am driving down to check on the cows.” The cattle meant a lot to the orphanage as they provided milk and meat. Often they were sold to raise money for other necessities that the orphanage needed in order to keep running efficiently.

Amy smiled. “You’re doing a great job, Jonathas.”

Bright white teeth flashed in the morning light. “Thank you.” He disappeared in a trail of dust, and Amy continued on to the dock. Walking to the end of the fifty-foot pier, she sat and looked out over the muddy brown water, catching glimpses of the wildlife that never ceased to amaze her. A caiman floated past. Then another. And another. Nocturnal creatures, it was still early enough for them to be out and about. They looked like alligators, their snouts skimming the top of the water.

The first time she’d had her quiet time out here, she’d had her legs hanging over the edge of the dock. Then she’d seen her early-morning companions and nearly had a coronary. Today, she didn’t even flinch. This was her favorite time of the day. The sun rose with a blend of orange, yellows and reds, first peeking above the horizon, then coming forth in its full glory to proudly display God’s handiwork. It never failed to take her breath away.

When the sun finished its climb, she pulled out her Bible and just sat without opening it. Instead, she went straight to the point. What do I do, Lord? What do I say? Should I talk to Lucas and ask him what to do? Would it do more damage to Micah—er, Juan—no, Micah, if I bring up the past and… She groaned and dropped her head in her hands.

“Problems?”

She jumped. It was Micah’s voice—but it wasn’t. It was deeper, with a rasp he didn’t used to have. Due to the damage from smoke inhalation, no doubt.

Amy turned and looked up at him, seeing the resemblance all over again. She’d noticed it in the beginning, but had never entertained the possibility that he might actually be Micah. Because Micah was dead. Only now he stood looking at her with a frown creasing his forehead.

She frowned back. “Problems? A few. God and I were just having a conversation about them. Well, actually, I was talking and He was listening.” Then she smiled. “What are you doing here so early?”

Micah sighed and dropped his head. “Looking for you. I was wondering if I could join you.”

“Sure.” Amy could see he had something on his mind. “What’s up?” She did her best to sound cheery and carefree. No need to let him see her turmoil until she could talk to Lucas and get in touch with his family. Surely one of them would see she’d tried to call and call her back. She’d gotten a satellite phone, and both Cassidy and the ambassador had the number. Hopefully, he’d check in with his office and they’d give him the message that she wanted to talk to him.

Micah sat down beside her, crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped loosely in front of him. Silent, he stared down in the muddy water.

Amy waited and inhaled his freshly showered scent. He looked good this morning, muscles gleaming in the morning sun. He had on short sleeves and didn’t seem to mind the scars prominently displayed on his left arm. Silent, she remained patient, allowing him to find the words he seemed to be searching for.

Finally, he blew out a breath and said, “I’m sorry if my scars offended you.”

Was that what he thought?

“Oh, no,” she reached out impulsively and laid a hand on his scarred left hand. “Why would you think that?”

He looked her in the eye, “Because of the way you reacted in the woods after the dart incident. You were…repulsed. And I’ve noticed you’ve been avoiding me these last few days.”

Amy caught her breath and stemmed the tears that threatened to fall. Although she had been avoiding him, it wasn’t because of his scars. She protested, “I wasn’t offended or repulsed, I…hurt for you. I can’t believe what you’ve been through. You…you’re…I wish…” She stopped, sucked in air and said, “I can’t even explain the feelings that went through me yesterday. I wish I could, but, please believe me, your scars don’t bother me. No, they’re not pretty, but they represent your strength, your courage. The fact that you can even walk shows what a fighter you are.”

A thought occurred to her, and she grabbed her Bible, flipping the pages, “Here, I want to read you something. It’s in I Samuel 16:7. The last part of the verse says, ‘The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.’”

Micah reached out and ran a finger down the page in her Bible. Softly, he asked, “And you think He’s looking at my heart?”

Amy nodded. “I know He is…and I promise, I am, too.”

Light flared in his eyes, hope, tenderness…fear. Micah stared back out over the water, clearing his throat. “Thank you. Amy, I know we haven’t known each other that long, and I’m not sure what the future holds for me, but…” He caught her eye, and Amy sucked in a breath at the look. No, no, she couldn’t let him say anything. Not yet. Not until she told him everything.

“Here,” she blurted, “this will help. Start with John.” She handed her Bible over to him. He took it reluctantly, obviously wanting to finish what he’d started to say. She stood. “I’ll just leave you and God to have a talk.”

He hefted the Bible and smiled up at her. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I need to go in and help get the little ones ready for breakfast anyway. You can give me the Bible later.”

“All right. I think maybe I will just sit here for a while—see what God has to say.”

Amy walked up the dock and turned up the path, passing the gymnasium. She looked back to see Micah sitting with the Bible in his lap. At least it was open. She whispered a prayer. “Reveal Yourself to him, Lord. Show him Your love and goodness.”

Only a few steps later, she heard a rumble in the distance and saw the jeep heading back her way, occasionally catching a glimpse of it between the trees. Jonathas must have finished with the cows early. She picked up her pace, stopped and looked back. The trees were in the way, but it looked as if the jeep had stopped on the dock. The front faced the end where Micah still sat. How strange. It just sat there, idling…no, wait, it was moving. Why would some one drive the jeep on the dock? She moved to get a better look.

Then the vehicle was rolling on the downward sloping dock, down toward the end where Micah sat. Picking up speed quickly, soon it would be right on him!

“Juan!” she screamed.

Surely, Micah would feel the vibration of the dock and look up, hear it as it got closer. Who was driving? A quick glance showed an empty driver’s seat. Horror swept over her. Sure enough, the jeep was bearing down on Micah and he had no where to go except into the river where the caimans still swam.