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"If I live that long."
Molly chuckled. "You will."
Alejandro Sosa awakened slowly, an inch of his body at a time. Unfortunately, the painful parts awakened first the pulled muscles across his chest, the sc.r.a.pe on his face and the roaring in his leg. He struggled to the surface, and found himself making an unmanly noise of pain.
"Easy," said a woman's voice. A hand fell on his shoulder.
He opened his eyes. The woman was the same one who had appeared in the garden. A gentle face with a firm mouth and high cheekbones that gave her an exotic look. Gray eyes. An impression of long hair with brown and yellow stripes weaving through the braid.
She knelt beside him, eyes concerned but not suspicious."Comoestausted?" she asked.
Abruptly he remembered where he was and why. He bolted upright, sending waves of agony from his thigh to his gut, and he put a hand to the bolt of pain in his head.
Cursing softly, he willed himself to sit there without showing his pain or the waves of nausea was.h.i.+ng over him. To his disgust, his hand trembled. He lowered it and forced himself to speak evenly. "I have to find Josefina," he said in English, so there would be no question of her understanding. "Please. I have to go."
Her hand pushed him all too easily back against the soft couch. "You can't even sit up yet." She rocked back on her heels and Alejandro liked the strength in her features, the no-nonsense way she met his eyes. "I might be able to help if you tell me who she is, how I might recognize her."
Could he trust her? He looked at the room behind her, darkened by twilight. It was clean and simply furnished, with plants in groups around the windows and a painting of the mountains over the fireplace. Even that small survey, moving only his eyes, brought fresh waves of dizziness, and he let his head fall into his waiting hands, breathing slow and deep to stall the nausea."Madre," he whispered.
Her cool hand lit on his forehead, and she swore softly. "Look, I want to move you to a more comfortable bed. Do you think you can walk a little way?"
"No, no." It was dark. He could not bear to think of Josefina out there, alone and afraid, hiding until he could find her. "I must go."
A tightnessmarked her mouth, and she stepped back. "Go ahead. Give it your best."
Alejandro worked his way to a full sitting position and halted, waiting for the dizziness to subside. He was a strong man. Healthy. He did not drink spirits or weaken himself with tobacco. In all his life, he had never been ill, not even with a cold. In a moment, his head would clear and he would stand up, and though it would hurt, he would leave here and find Josefina.
But he waited, and the dizziness did not abate. He felt his head drifting above his body somewhere, above the dull, steady throb of his leg. Suddenly, nausea flared in his belly and he swayed, feeling cold sweat break on his forehead and down his back. He closed his eyes, fighting it, but found himself resting his face in his hands.
"Senor," she said quietly. "Have a little water."
She pressed a gla.s.s into his hand, and to his shame, had to help him lift it to his lips. The taste was cool and sweet against his parched lips, however, and he drank greedily. His stomach settled and he nodded.
The woman put the gla.s.s aside and put a strong hand on his elbow. "You have been shot.
Was it in the raid last night at Wiley Farms?"
He met her gaze. If she knew that, and still listened to his plea to keep the officials out of it, she was not likely to care if he told the truth now."Si."
"There's infection in the wound, which is what is making you so ill. I can get some antibiotics and you'll be better in a couple of days, but in the meantime, you aren't going to be able to walk more than a few feet without falling on your face. Not on an infected, gunshot leg." She paused. "Let me help you."
Even in his present state, he was bewildered by her kindness. "Why?"
Her eyebrows lifted. "I don't really know." Gripping his elbow, she said, "Let's get you settled. Then you can tell me what I need to know to help locate Josefina."
He had no choice. He nodded.
"Can you stand up? There is a more comfortable bed in the back room."
He hoped so. Bracing himself, Alejandro gritted his teeth as he leaned on her. Even with her help, it took every shred of his will to move the short distance to a bedroom off the kitchen. He noted windows all around, and a swept wooden floor and a lamp burning warmly in one corner before he eased into the comfort of the clean, fresh- smelling linens. Blackness edged his vision, and he took her hand urgently, to speak before unconsciousness claimed him again.
"Senora," he said urgently, and paused to gather the English words.
"I'm here." Her hand was strong. Reliable, somehow.
She bent over him in that way of caretakers, moving into his view so he did not have to even turn his head. As he gathered his words, he saw that she had a face like a saint, that smooth white skin, and heaven-soft eyes, and a long rope of brown and yellow hair that shone in the light.
"Tell me about Josefina," she said in Spanish, as if realizing what effort it took for him to concentrate.
"I lost her in the raid, and she is ill." He tried to remember what else. "She's ...
little.Ochoanos. "
"Suhija ?"
"No, no."Blackness crept over him. "My niece ...porfavor ."
"I'll find her," she promised, and squeezed his hand.
Believing her, he let go and blackness swarmed over him, velvety and deep and free of pain.
Molly felt his grip loosen as he slipped into the fever. She settled his lean dark hand on his belly, then efficiently removed his boots an act that would have been agonizing for him while he was conscious then found her scissors and cut away his jeans completely so that he could rest more comfortably. She'd made the bed before she moved him, and now braced the wounded leg between two pillows to help keep it immobile.
Though the evening was not cold, she covered him with a light quilt, antic.i.p.ating the chill a fever sometimes brought with it.
Fever. She needed antibiotics. There were some painkillers in a bottle in the medicine cabinet, left over from dental surgery a few months ago, and when he could eat a little, she'd give him those. But the need for antibiotics was urgent. His temperature was up, and the leg was burning. The last thing in the world she wanted was to end up with a dead man in her house.
She pulled another light blanket over him, tucking it around him loosely so he'd stay warm but would not feel constrained. Again, the impossible beauty of his face struck her. Wounded and ill as he was, his face was still so astonis.h.i.+ng Molly couldn't help staring. Such artful lines.
And not only his face. The body was lean, hard-muscled, tan. She had a weakness for men who worked the land, who spent their days in the sun, touching what grew or roamed on the earth. In her experience, it didn't matter whether it was a lowly field hand or a
rancher with hundreds ofacres, men of the land were a breed apart. They looked to the sky and tasted the wind and knew they were at the mercy of nature. It lent them humility and dignity.
Her husband had been such a man. For a moment, she thought of the fan of sun lines that had marked Tim's face by the time he was thirty, and waited for a hollow ache such memories usually brought. This time, it did not come. She felt only fondness.
Although her patient would not likely stir for many hours, she left a small pitcher of water on the nightstand, along with a cup. There was a small bathroom across the hall, probably reachable if he held on to walls, and she left the light on to lead the way if he awakened.
Then she set out to see if she could make good on her promise to find Josefina, trying in vain to ignore the pleasure she felt over discovering it was not his wife, but a child, that her patient called for with such devotion.
Chapter 2.
Josefina knew two things about the world that people usually liked little girls as long as they were polite, and that she got better results from grandmothers. She had been hiding all day, waiting for her uncle to come find her, but as the sun set, she got hungrier and hungrier, and finally decided to take a chance.
It was good for her that she did not look so different from many of the girls in this town. They were dark, like her, and skinny, and some of them even spoke their English in the same way she did. The teachers liked itcrisper a teacher in camp last summer had said that, crisper, and Josefina had loved the sound of it. Like lettuce, she had said with a laugh, and the teacher had laughed with her. So now she tried to remember to break the words like lettuce, but sometimes she forgot.
Tonight, she had on her good blue sweater, because it had been chilly last night, and a pair of jeans with the s.h.i.+rt that had a big sunflower on it thatTio had bought her for her birthday.
There weren't so many people out, but Josefina halted outside the pool of light near the dairy bar, looking for more bad men. She didn't see any. Mostly there were teenagers, who scared her a little with their loud laughing and flat eyes. Sometimes
they were nice, but mostly they looked through her.
In her pocket, she had ten dollars. She always had it, just in case,Tio said, and he'd made her think about how to buy things and get the right change so many times she felt confident walking up to the window now to get herself some supper. Soberly, she thought of her choices. They had hot dogs and ice-cream cones on special for $1.75, and she ordered that, then carefully counted the change and tucked it back in her pocket, coughing a little.