Through The Storm
Rula Sinara
The biggest risk she'll ever take…Tessa Henning is no damsel. But she’s definitely in distress. If her husband really is involved in the ivory trade, he’ll come after her when he finds out what she’s uncovered. Unfortunately, the only person who can help is Mac Walker. Stubborn, fiercely independent, danger-loving bush pilot Mac Walker—with whom she shares custody of their orphaned nephew. Though Mac’s no knight in shining armor, he can keep her and their nephew safe in the Serengeti while they wait out this storm. But he can’t protect Tessa from the strange weather brewing inside her, stirring up feelings for Mac she wishes she could ignore.
The biggest risk she’ll ever take...
Tessa Henning is no damsel. But she’s definitely in distress. If her husband really is involved in the ivory trade, he’ll come after her when he finds out what she’s uncovered. Unfortunately, the only person who can help is Mac Walker. Stubborn, fiercely independent, danger-loving bush pilot Mac Walker—with whom she shares custody of their orphaned nephew. Though Mac’s no knight in shining armor, he can keep her and their nephew safe in the Serengeti while they wait out this storm. But he can’t protect Tessa from the strange weather brewing inside her, stirring up feelings for Mac she wishes she could ignore.
Mac pulled to a stop and pointed toward a pair of giraffes and their baby enjoying a treetop picnic in the distance.
The female seemed to give Tessa a knowing nod and then lowered her neck and nudged the baby. A family of three. At peace. Something stirred deep inside Tessa.
“Look at them, Nick,” she whispered to their nephew.
“I saw. Now can we go fast again?”
Leave it to a restless teen to spoil the moment. Tessa wanted to stay there and watch. Never before had she been so hyperaware...so in tune with her senses. The way the air softly brushed her skin, the light snap of a twig, the smell of dewy grass and freshly rutted dirt, the striking blue and red of a bird taking flight from the acacia tree ahead of them. Everything around her was awe-inspiring. It didn’t feel risky. It felt right.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and was enveloped by a warm, fresh scent that was uniquely Mac’s. She quickly opened her eyes again. The stress, drama and romantic atmosphere of the Serengeti were getting to her. Mac belonged here. There was no separating him from the land and life that surrounded them. Mac and the Serengeti had an understanding. A symbiotic relationship.
A balance.
And he’d made it clear he didn’t have room in his life for anyone else.
Dear Reader (#ulink_6b0be5e6-1398-5c82-b672-162b0a212eec),
One of my favorite poems is Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” We all know journeys through life tend to be circuitous with many difficult choices along the way. More often than not, our choice of path is complex and the driving force runs deep. I look back on my own life (hindsight is a great teacher) and can plainly see which of my choices were based on fear, insecurities or even expectations...and which were made because I followed my conscience, listened to my heart and had the courage to be true to myself.
When faced with divergent paths, are you a risk taker? Someone who takes the less-traveled road? The beautiful thing about life is that it allows for change. A journey through life, after all, is about self-discovery. It’s about learning from mistakes and righting the wrong. It’s about connecting with those who share or respect our passions, ethics and values. It’s about opening your heart to love in its many forms.
In this book, the hero and heroine are two very different people brought together by co-guardianship of their nephew. Mac is a risk taker...an adventurer who has convinced himself he’s better off alone. Tessa, on the other hand, craves security...a need that led her to a marriage and husband she’s determined to be loyal to. Yet both Mac and Tessa are facing internal and external battles between right and wrong. Both have made choices based on childhood experiences and both have now reached a crossroads where their choices will either drive them apart...or make them stronger.
I hope you enjoy this third story in my From Kenya, with Love series. My door is open at rulasinara.com (http://www.rulasinara.com), where you can sign up for my newsletter, get information on all my books and find links to my social media hangouts.
Wishing you love, peace and courage in life,
Rula Sinara
Through the Storm
Rula Sinara
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Award-winning and USA TODAY bestselling author RULA SINARA lives in rural Virginia with her family and crazy but endearing pets. She loves organic gardening, attracting wildlife to her yard, planting trees, raising backyard chickens and drinking more coffee than she’ll ever admit to. Rula’s writing has earned her a National Readers’ Choice Award and a Holt Medallion Award of Merit, among other honors. Her door is always open at rulasinara.com (http://www.rulasinara.com), where you can sign up for her newsletter, learn about her latest books and find links to her social media hangouts.
To the elephants and all living things that have endured unspeakable suffering. And to those whose hearts are filled with compassion and respect for all life...regardless of race or species. May your love heal wounds and make the world a better place.
Acknowledgments (#ulink_53857c64-4728-5120-8c8d-c73b1f2a7b8e)
To Claire Caldwell—a brilliant poet, writer and editor—for helping to bring each book in this series to life and whose patience and invaluable guidance gave me the courage to dig deeper...and reach Through the Storm.
Contents
COVER (#u2e6a3eb6-dd3d-5a4f-a0cf-62f3dfaf19a3)
BACK COVER TEXT (#u464d1285-697f-570c-9234-66c32bcdab27)
INTRODUCTION (#u96395a40-ad43-51ab-ac1e-384fba99013f)
Dear Reader (#u6f8a5190-ed68-59bd-b4b5-728fbe6c1b56)
TITLE PAGE (#ubad5eda1-d83a-5379-a414-c02fb6dd8d77)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#u72a864c4-d89b-5196-a442-97804a9c20b8)
DEDICATION (#u4a504452-bcc8-5ef0-aae1-258e0c6bf385)
Acknowledgments (#ufbfdb6ec-ebbd-51ce-ae46-29e40aa01d33)
CHAPTER ONE (#u31091581-c21a-5fe7-94bd-4cbdb97ac9d2)
CHAPTER TWO (#ud50c3ba1-5fd6-5280-9dfb-f64a146f83c0)
CHAPTER THREE (#u5bdca6e8-efd7-5380-bc6f-3d8b75e572d0)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub88aad24-4247-5d11-b1b7-4c655fc5e420)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)
COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_e84b9592-92f1-556b-bfab-13f95e79e9ab)
HE WOULD COME after her.
Without him, Tessa Henning wasn’t worth the dust left by a mercilessly harvested and exquisitely carved elephant’s tusk, but once he discovered she knew too much, Brice would hunt her down just the same. He’d come after her because she was a traitor. He’d find her because she was his wife and he believed in gratitude and loyalty. He expected it. Brice had put her on a pedestal...made her feel beautiful and wanted at a time when everyone else saw her as awkward. He’d given her a life of luxury and security. He’d been generous.
He loved her.
She closed her eyes. She hoped it had been love all this time. Maybe it still was. Maybe she was wrong about everything. Brice had always been a decent man. A decent husband. Marriage involved trust. But didn’t love and trust take two in a marriage? Love and trust were funny words. Tessa swallowed hard, but the lingering, bitter taste of uncertainty dried her throat even more. She needed to stop rationalizing.
Listen to your gut. Don’t ignore your instincts this time. This isn’t just about you anymore. There’s a kid involved.
She took a deep breath, the kind she did in yoga class, then opened her eyes and took one last look around. The designer “organic eggshell”-colored paint she’d once thought made their bedroom appear clean and classy now seemed cold and painfully neutral. She ran her hand across the brown silk sheets that lay rumpled next to her duffel bag, making sure nothing she needed had been lost in them. Their silky touch was anything but soothing. It reminded her of how easily comfort and security could slip away. The pit of her stomach quivered.
“Just get Nick out of here first, then figure out what to do next,” she muttered, trying to keep her nerve up. The sound of Nick’s name grounded her and she rammed the last few bare essentials she’d piled on her bed into her bag, including her journal and the iPad she’d saved some work, research and personal files on. Nothing was only about her anymore. Not since her sister and brother-in-law were killed in an accident six months ago and her thirteen-year-old nephew became her responsibility. Well, hers and his uncle Mac’s, but she’d pretty much assumed primary guardianship. It had been Mac’s choice at first—a choice that preserved his rugged, bachelor bush-pilot lifestyle up in Kenya’s Serengeti. Not that he was entirely delinquent as a guardian, but Mac had managed to convince her early on that there was no way he could raise Nick. He sent money instead.
But she wasn’t complaining, exactly. She loved Nick and was glad he was a part of her life. Six months ago, she’d thought that having him around would be like having a part of her sister to hang on to. Things didn’t turn out that way. For someone with no child-rearing experience, suddenly having a grieving teenage boy dropped into your life was like expecting a deer to raise a baby wolf. Still, a part of her hated that she was going to lose Nick if her suspicions about Brice proved to be true.
She slung her mini backpack purse onto her shoulder, grabbed the duffel then hurried down the curved marble staircase to the main level of their modern South African villa. The floor-to-ceiling window that framed a spectacular view of the Southern Ocean’s crested waters never failed to take her breath away, but today the clawing waves seemed like they were desperate to capture her...to keep her from escaping. That same view made anyone who attended one of Brice’s upscale cocktail parties jealous of what they had. Those guests didn’t have a clue that his fortune had come at a price. Even Tessa didn’t have solid proof, and hadn’t even suspected Brice’s illegal activity until recently, but she was not going to stand by and be a victim. Or watch others suffer at his hands.
The journalist in her had been screaming that something was off for a while now, but given all she was going through after her sister’s death, her mind kept telling her to stay out of it, play it safe and take care of Nick. The problem was, there was no safe anymore. Home would never feel safe again. Tides changed and the undertow was deadly for the unprepared. She needed to be prepared.
At first, she’d thought Brice’s increasing emotional distance, preoccupation with work and irritability were due to the change their daily lives had undergone when Nick came to live with them. She had thought her husband was avoiding the stages of mourning she and Nick had been suffering through, and she had decided not to confront him about it. She figured it would all pass and they’d find a new equilibrium; plus, it wasn’t fair to make Nick suffer through their marital stresses. Not after what he’d already been through and not when his uncle Mac couldn’t get over his bachelor-ness and take his nephew in. But since her initial suspicions, things had been getting worse. Maybe Tessa’s imagination was working overtime and she was reading into the bits and pieces of a phone conversation she’d overheard when Brice didn’t know she’d returned home early from taking Nick to one of his posttraumatic therapy sessions, but she needed to know for sure. If Brice was involved in criminal activity, no way was she going to let Nick live around him.
A door on the far side of the living room led to Brice’s office. He kept it locked whenever he took trips, but Tessa had been planning today for over a month now. Trust. Traitor. She reached into her pocket for the key she’d made, then entered. His office had always made her nervous. Like a mother walking into a crystal display shop with a hyperactive child. Just about everything was made of glass or covered in it. The shelves. His desktop, resting on a sleek, sawhorse-style base with wooden drawers and files under either side. The decorative items between books. It had never hit her before, but now it looked as if he were being daring...seeing just how much load his life could take before everything shattered.
She went to his desk and wondered how he kept the glass fingerprint-free. She avoided touching the surface and opened the drawers. A credenza along the wall behind the desk carried his main computer. No doubt he’d taken his laptop with him.
She wished like crazy that she knew his computer passwords. One backup of his hard drive would be all she needed, but she had no time to guess and no clue how to hack. She’d take anything, though—the last bank statement, receipts...anything that would put her suspicions to rest and prove Brice wasn’t involved in dark business dealings. Prove that the man who’d swept her off her feet was still the same Brice she’d married. A charismatic and shrewd but moral and ethical businessman. Her husband. Yet the last words she’d overheard from that phone call still echoed in her ears: No one can find out. I’ll deny involvement with my last breath.
The nape of her neck prickled as she rifled through his drawers, careful to leave everything looking untouched. She hated this: the sneaking behind his back, the spying...the adrenaline. Boy, did she hate adrenaline. The longer it took for Brice to notice something was wrong when he returned from his business trip in two days, the more of a head start she’d have. She cursed e-bills and cloud storage, then tried one last drawer. A small clear plastic container lay in the back, covered by a stack of manila envelopes. She lifted it out and stacked the envelopes in place. The container had at least six flash drives piled inside. Maybe some things are too sensitive to store in cyberspace. Huh, Brice?
Her cell phone ring tone sent her pulse scattering. She fumbled for it in her back pocket and checked the screen. Katia. Her editor must have already seen the article she’d sent her just an hour ago. Tessa took a second to steady her voice, then answered.
“Hey, Kat.”
“Tessa, are you crazy? I can’t publish this in tomorrow’s paper. Have you forgotten who your husband is?”
Tessa pressed a hand over her eyes. Why had she bothered? Had she really thought the friendship that had grown between her and Kat would make a difference this time? How often had she been told “no” and to stick to her assigned fashion column?
“No, of course not. It has nothing to do with him,” Tessa said, as she quietly closed the desk drawer.
The article had everything to do with him, but she wasn’t stupid enough to mention his name directly. They wanted her to stick to her fashion column and she had. Only, instead of recapping the season’s trends and giving her generalized opinion on them, she’d written about how outdated and deplorable the use of ivory in jewelry and home decor was, especially in an era of animal-rights awareness.
“How can it not?” Katia huffed into the phone. “Tessa, why do you think I offered you this column to begin with?”
Nice. Rub it in. Nepotism. She didn’t write for the paper because of any talent. She wrote for it because Brice got her in.
“Not only is he on the executive board of this newspaper,” Katia insisted, “he’s the lead investor in half the companies you mentioned here. You have no proof. We’d get sued for defamation. I’m not losing my job over this.”
“You won’t lose your job. You’ll be doing it. Isn’t uncovering truths and raising awareness what journalism is supposed to be about?”
“Maybe for some journalists, but that’s not the purpose of your column. That’s not what your readers are looking for. If they want to read about crime, they’ll turn to the front page. Your column is in the Arts and Home section. Remember that. Tessa, what’s going on? This isn’t how you write. Have you been sleeping? Watching too many crime shows?”
Only for ideas on how to rob her husband.
“Kat. Listen to me a minute. As my friend, not my editor. I know something is going on that involves some well-known businessmen and politicians around here, and I have a really strong feeling it involves the illegal ivory trade. We can wave a red flag over the issue.” She looked down at the thumb drives. If there was anyone she could trust, it was Katia. “I’m working on getting more solid proof. If you have to leave company names off for now, fine, but at least print the rest. Get the ball rolling. Attract attention to the cause.”
“Tessa...”
“Look, I have to catch a flight. I’m taking my nephew to his uncle’s so that I can focus on this. Just post it. Making waves could be good for both our careers.”
“Forget your career. Stop and listen to me.” Katia lowered her voice. “Nothing is private here. I’m betting every email is monitored. You’re playing with fire, and that’s not like you. Be careful. It hasn’t been that long since your sister and brother-in-law were killed. I think the stress is getting to you. Take a break. I can get someone to cover the column for a while.”
“I don’t need a break.”
There was a pause and she could hear someone talking in the background and papers shuffling.
“Tessa, I have to go.”
She started to object, but the line disconnected. Tessa cursed and jammed the phone back into her pocket. You have no proof. Why couldn’t her instincts count for something? Apparently personal agendas trumped both friendship and truth. She took a deep breath. Katia was afraid to ruffle a few feathers. Well, Tessa was about to do a lot more than that. She grasped the USBs and stuffed them into her backpack, knowing full well they could end up being empty or useless, but she was running out of time. She wiped her damp palms against her beige khakis and tucked Brice’s chair under the desk, but then pulled it back out and used the hem of her blue V-neck T-shirt to polish the drawer handle and the glass edge, just in case.
She locked the office behind her, then climbed the stairs two at a time, slowing down only as she approached Nick’s bedroom down the hall. She paused, slowing her erratic pulse with deep breaths before tapping on his door and cracking it open.
“Nick, you have thirty seconds or we’ll miss our flight.”
“I’m ready,” he said, slinging his bag over one shoulder, swinging the door wide open and shoving past her. He was definitely taking after his dad in above-average height and already matched Tessa inch for inch. His jeans and dragon T-shirt were getting too short again. If only he’d let her take him to cut his hair a few inches to match. His blond side-swept bangs made it impossible to look him in the eye. His room looked like the latest hurricane had made landfall. Good thing Brice never bothered going past Nick’s bedroom. If he had any idea there was a room in the house in a state like this, he’d die.
“Uh, are you sure you didn’t forget anything you need? Toothbrush, perhaps?” And here she was afraid something had fallen between her bedsheets.
“No,” he snapped, reaching around her and pulling the door shut.
“Okay.” Keep out. That won’t be a problem.
She followed him downstairs, letting him out first so she could set the house alarm. The taxi she’d arranged for earlier was idling in their circular driveway. Nick waited for her before getting in.
“You should be happy about taking a holiday.”
The private school he attended—one of South Africa’s popular and prestigious ones and the same one he’d attended before his parents were killed—gave its students ten days off in August. He’d complained plenty of times that one of his American classmates had told him kids back home got something like two and a half months off in the summer. How did parents over there survive that? How did parents survive, period?
Nick shrugged and gazed out the window at the passing shoreline as they headed for the airport.
“Whatever.”
Tessa caught the driver glancing at her. Sympathy for Nick’s attitude? Or recognition of whose wife she was and curiosity as to where she was going? She wouldn’t doubt that half the drivers in their area answered to Brice. He tipped well, but he also had a great rapport with everyone. Which was why getting him to approve this trip had been so important. His approval meant less suspicion on his part and that alone would buy her time.
Brice had seemed relieved when she mentioned taking Nick out of town for a week. If Tessa had noticed anything since Nick came to live with them, it was that Brice had less patience for kids than she did. He hadn’t been kidding when they’d had the infamous discussion about no kids right before they got married. But she loved Nick. He was her nephew...her blood. And Brice wasn’t solely to blame on the no-patience front. Nick was a handful. A slurry of teen moodiness thickened with posttraumatic stress. Yet Brice had welcomed him into their home. That’s why she was feeling morbidly guilty right now.
She smiled at the driver and tried to act as relaxed as possible, fighting back tears as they passed the neighborhood of midsize homes where her sister had lived. She noticed Nick looking over and her heart broke for not being able to tell him that his “visit” to his uncle might end up being a lot more than a visit...and that he’d likely not see his old neighborhood again for a long time. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he shoved it off. His constant rejections hurt. So she wasn’t ideal substitute-mom material, but she was trying to do her best.
It’s all going to be okay.
All that mattered was getting Nick to Kenya and then getting as far from the boy as she could. Because sooner or later Brice would realize this wasn’t a vacation, and when he did, he’d be after her for answers...and there was no way she’d let Nick get caught in the cross fire.
* * *
MAC WALKER HATED being played almost as much as he hated owing anyone anything. But everyone—including Mac—had a price, and saving Air Walker Safaris from the red was a big one. He’d always gotten by okay. Up until now, the balance between booking enough paid charters to keep the cash flowing and still having plenty of spare time to volunteer free flights for herd observation or tracking for wildlife reservations or research and rescue camps in the area had been perfect. His safari charters hopefully raised awareness of endangered species while letting tourists take in or photograph the phenomenal world below. But his volunteer work? That’s what he lived for. That’s what he didn’t want to sacrifice if AWS suffered. He liked the way his life was—he was on his own and in control. And no matter how many psychological games bigger, better companies tried to play with him, he wasn’t going to give in.
He hated the fact that once anyone got wind of the good life or a diamond in the rough, they wanted a piece of it. Now every other flying junkie was trying to set up shop and cash in on the draw of Kenya’s Serengeti and his books were beginning to show it. It made him sick that they didn’t really care for the land, so much as the opportunity. He sat back, propping his dirt-crusted hiking boots onto the undersized wooden table that served as his desk, and studied his email reply to the latest franchise trying to buy him out. He deleted the colorful insult he’d added to the draft.
It wouldn’t be selling out, really—except from his perspective. The companies trying to buy AWS positioned their offers as more of a partnership and a chance to increase business. No doubt the move would fund the kind of tender loving care his one true love—his chopper—needed, and he’d finally be able to add a second helicopter and pilot to his payroll. But the mere idea of giving up an ounce of control made him cringe. Sure, he was just a small charter business, but he’d never needed much to keep himself afloat before. He’d had a few extra expenses this past year. That was all. He just needed a small business boost and time to recover. He still had adequate savings to keep sending his share of support for his nephew, Nick. That was one of his priorities and the least he could do, but boy, did he need to start adding to the bank account. The numbers in the partnership offers were tempting.
Just not tempting enough. AWS wasn’t on its deathbed yet.
But his gut told him it would happen sooner or later. The question was when. How many bridges could he burn before he lost all his chances at a deal that would keep AWS from going completely under? For now, though, it was a risk worth taking to maintain his independence.
He took his feet off the battered wood desk and hit Send. Done.
He needed a drink.
And more customers.
He scrubbed his face with his palms and took one swig from a bottle of Scotch he kept in the short filing cabinet that helped support the end of his desk. Then he turned off his lamp and computer. His long-term lease at Hodari Lodge, one of the upscale tourist lodges near Amboseli National Park, afforded him a windowed office where tourists could browse brochures and sign up for tours. He also had adjoining private living quarters that were barely big enough for a man half his size. He’d divided his humble “single bed and bath” space with a curtain consisting of long orange and red cloths gifted to him by Masai friends after he’d located a young child who’d wandered too far from their village. The handiwork, woven with care, was a reminder of what was important in life.
He made short use of the basin and urinal that occupied the left side of the room, turned off the lights, sat on the edge of the single bed he dwarfed and pulled off his boots.
The chitter-chatter of insects and mellow cries of nocturnal beasts carried through the mosquito netting on the window he’d opened earlier. Potent sounds that fueled his blood and kept him company.
He leaned back against his pillow and started to tuck his hands behind his head but froze at the barely perceptible click of the door to his quarters. Shuffling steps were followed by the metal grind of his rusty file cabinet opening and the rustle of papers. Not a very quiet thief, but then again, few people knew he lived at the back of his office, and Sue, his assistant, never went past the front desk. She’d left much earlier and had promised to lock the door that opened to the lodge’s foyer so he could deal with emails uninterrupted. He should have double-checked.
He slipped his switchblade out of his back pocket and rose. This had happened to him once before. The guy had been after his alcohol. Handing over his Scotch would be the least of Mac’s worries. Losing his computer or the day’s cash that he hadn’t had the chance to bank would bite a lot harder.
He peered past a break in the Masai drapes and quickly noted that the dark figure was no match for his six feet. It looked more like the size of an older kid. Moonlight reflected off his bottle of Scotch at the back of the file drawer. Untouched. Not after the booze, huh?
One long stride and he had his hand over the intruder’s mouth and their body braced hard against his. A faint trace of perfume or scented shampoo and the thief’s curved shape gave her gender away and, admittedly, shocked the heck out of him. She gasped and dug her nails frantically into his forearm while trying, unsuccessfully, to kick her heels up at his knees. The little witch even tried sinking her teeth in him, but he twisted his hold and saved his skin. He held his blade just far enough from her neck so she could see it.
“Stop struggling and this won’t get any worse.”
Her chest heaved, but she obeyed. He flicked his blade shut with one hand, shoved it in his pocket and reached to turn on the light, then he flipped her around and pinned her against the closest wall.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Mac said.
Tessa stared up at him with the same doe-like eyes he remembered, only now faint lines creased her forehead and a couple of early grays streaked through her long brown hair. She was still as beautiful as she’d ever been, but the past six months had clearly left their mark. She looked older than her thirty years...even more so than when he’d seen her at the funeral. Too many lazy beach days with fancy drinks did that to a person, didn’t it? Okay, he was being a jerk, stereotyping her. He wasn’t that judgmental. Not any more than she’d always been of his lifestyle. Maybe it really was the stress of her loss showing. That was something he did understand.
His brother, Allan, had been a pilot, too. He’d married his high school sweetheart, Tessa’s sister, Maria, and when their Cessna had crashed just miles from their home in Cape Town six months ago, custody of their then twelve-and-a-half-year-old son, Nick, had been given to both Mac and Tessa. An arrangement that made no sense at all, given that she lived in South Africa with the millionaire husband she’d landed and he lived in Kenya’s outback with no time or place to add a kid. The only explanation Tessa or Mac had been able to come up with had been that Maria and Allan wanted their child to retain ties to both sides of his family. Having the comforts of a mansion, great schools and both a father and mother figure on hand made more sense than uprooting him. Besides, as far as Mac knew, Tessa had plenty of time to spare, what with playing the butterfly wife and not doing much more than writing a fashion column once a week. Mac didn’t have anything close to that kind of luxury.
“Can you please ease up on the man hold?” she panted.
Her face was pale and clammy. He’d scared her to death, all right, but she deserved it. Tessa Henning. In Kenya. In his cave. Unbelievable. He glanced down to where something glimmered against her skin with the rise and fall of her chest. A simple silver M...for Maria. He recognized the necklace as the one he’d helped his brother pick out for Maria’s birthday senior year. Back when he couldn’t afford a whole lot.
Mac released his hold and motioned her to sit on his desk chair while he stood akimbo between her and her only escape.
“What were you looking for, Tessa?”
* * *
TESSA SUCKED IN the corner of her lip the way she always did when she needed to think. This was Mac. She had to be on her toes. She waved away the entire situation with her hand.
“Looking for? Come on, Mac. Suspicious much? I was trying to find a plain sheet of paper to leave you a note to let you know that Nick and I arrived a few hours ago. He’s in a room sleeping right now. We were hoping you could meet us early for breakfast and then take us up for a tour.”
Mac folded his arms and raised a brow. Why had his confidence always irritated her? Standing there like that in his jeans and white T-shirt...like he was a model posing for a rugged photo shoot for one of her fashion posts. It just... She didn’t like it. That was all.
“You broke in here and planned to write me a note,” he said.
“Yes.” Tessa nodded for emphasis.
“In the dark.”
She kept nodding. She used to be so good at smart comebacks, but her nerves had clearly wiped out her memory banks. You’re such a dork, Tessa. Pull it together. She cleared her throat.
“There’s plenty of moonlight out and I thought lights out here were on some sort of generator timer. Aren’t they? I was telling Nick on the flight that we might have to get some LED torches or brush our teeth in the dark.”
“Cute. Really cute.”
She smiled.
“Tessa.” Mac ran his fingers through his short blond hair. Nick looked a lot like his uncle. “Seeing Nick will be great. But why in the world would you pay for a charter from Nairobi instead of calling ahead so I could pick you up? Couldn’t you at least have left a message?”
“And ruin the surprise?”
He raised a brow at her. Okay, so even she knew Mac wasn’t keen on surprises. She hadn’t initially planned on sneaking into his office, but it was the one place she figured she could access a computer privately. She needed to do some research, but she also wanted to check if Katia had sent her an email. Maybe she’d changed her mind about the article. Tessa had forgotten her tablet charger. She should have searched her sheets better. As for getting here from the main airport in Nairobi...yes, counting on Mac would have been easier. And stupid.
“Look. I’m still not used to scheduling around school holidays, so this one crept up on us.”
“I realize you’ve grown accustomed to the silver spoon and spa type of life and people falling at your feet, but I don’t bow to anyone. Don’t you think it’s a bit presumptuous to assume I’m not already booked tomorrow morning?”
She hated—really hated—when people made her sound petty and self-centered just because she’d married a wealthy man. They had no clue about her marriage or what her life was like below the surface. As for Mac...he’d judged her and made fun of her since their school days. He used to call her a hermit, chicken and nerd. She hated him for that and had always resented the fact that Mac, Allan and Maria were part of the cool crowd she’d never fit into. They’d been the kids who got invited to parties, always looked trendy and weren’t afraid to break rules or play hooky when she didn’t dare.
But right now, Mac’s ego wasn’t her problem. His cooperation was. She noticed the top of a brochure sticking out from underneath a few envelopes by his computer. AWS: Air Walker Safaris. He had his logo embroidered on half his shirts and had given a shirt and matching cap to Nick when he’d come down to South Africa to settle things after the funeral. Narcissistic company name, if you asked her. Bet he’d had an easy time coming up with that one.
Nick was a Walker, though, and she needed to press the fact that he was the last “Air Walker.” No way could she bring up having him stay with Mac permanently until she could negate all of Mac’s logistical arguments against it. She needed Mac to succumb to his emotions regarding his nephew. It wouldn’t be easy. She needed to slip under his radar and rob him of his bachelorhood.
When they’d gained custody, Mac had made it quite clear that raising a boy while being both a bush pilot and tour guide wouldn’t work in any way, shape or form. His refusal to take Nick was just one more reason why she resented him. Mac—who lived for spontaneity, change and challenge—had backed off when it came to raising a kid. And he’d assumed that just because Tessa was married, had money and a house and was female, she was mother material. He’d implied that she had more time on her hands—between manicures—than he did.
There were no words for how much she loved and cared about Nick...and no regrets for the time she’d gotten to spend with him. She truly wanted to do right by Maria, but taking on a traumatized child had terrified her, and months of dealing with his depressed moods had left her drained. Mac did care about his nephew. She knew that, just like she knew that if something happened to her, he’d figure out a way to blend Nick into his life, whether he wanted to or not. She just wished he’d taken on some of the load from the beginning. And in his eyes, he had no more reason to take on raising Nick now than he had six months ago when he’d left him in Tessa’s hands.
“Are you booked tomorrow?” she asked.
His lips hardened and he clenched his jaw. “No.”
“I guess it’s all good, then. I promised Nick a holiday and I’d hate for him to be disappointed or, God forbid, bored. He’s been a bit depressed, and I figured a last-minute surprise trip would be fun and good for him,” she said, getting up from the chair and brushing past Mac. He wrapped his fingers around her arm. They were calloused and worn...and warm against her skin.
“Just how long do you plan to stay?” he asked.
Did he mean her and Nick? Or just her? Bringing up the Nick situation right now with the mood she’d already put Mac in wouldn’t be smart. No, Nick and Mac needed some bonding time...if that was possible with their personalities. And with Mac’s history of volunteering with wildlife organizations, he was the only person who might be able to help her figure out what was going on with her husband. She knew without a doubt that Mac was on the right side of the law when it came to poaching, but then again, Katia had refused to help her. Mac might have his own agenda, too. Ultimately, she could only count on herself. So much for skipping out on computer science classes in college and not learning something useful...like navigating computers beyond the basics. Where did one learn how to hack?
She looked at his hand—he let go—then she let out a breath and tucked hers into her pockets to calm herself. She glanced around his cramped quarters. He wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t have room for Nick. But he’d have to make room or find a new place because the way Tessa’s life was unfolding, Nick living with her was no longer an option. Not with her life crumbling around her. She angled her head at Mac.
“A week tops. Then I promise I’ll be out of your hair.”
For good.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_6ce16480-b83c-509b-aaa8-62adcba02286)
MAC HAD AVOIDED touching his Scotch again last night. With Tessa around, he needed to keep his head on straight. But finding her in his office, bracing her—not embracing, he reminded himself—against his chest... The memories the evening had stirred up were worthy of a full-bottle hangover. The way she’d fallen into his arms at Maria and Allan’s funeral. How she’d sobbed against his chest and he’d buried his own tears in the crook of her neck. She’d never liked him much back in their school days, and he’d never cared for her lifestyle after marriage, but at that moment, no one else in the room—other than perhaps Nick...and Tessa’s parents—had understood what she and Mac were going through. In that moment, he’d imagined a connection...an understanding between them that had never been there before.
Then she’d begun pounding his chest and screaming about how much she hated him for encouraging Allan to propose to her sister. That her sister would still be alive if they weren’t related. She’d buckled to her knees after that.
Half of him had wanted to take off and the other half had wanted to wrap his arms around her and pick her up. But Brice had beaten him to it. He was the one she needed to lean on, anyway. He was her husband. Her safety net. Mac... Mac apparently wasn’t even a friend. He was nothing but a coguardian. A brother-in-law she didn’t like. He still remembered the crushing pressure in his chest when he’d watched Brice rush over and take her in his arms. Mac had lost his brother. Opening up and sharing his pain with Tessa hadn’t been easy. He’d let himself be vulnerable. Then she’d turned on him. He’d never forget that.
Mac’s trip back home to South Africa had been rife with raw emotions. There’d been a lot to take care of and the need to focus on Nick had helped him ignore the punch to his gut every time Tessa’s eyes met his as the lawyers sorted their siblings’ wills out. He wasn’t sure why she’d always hated him so much. At the time, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over losing Allan, but thinking of Nick put his pain in perspective. The poor boy was orphaned. Allan and Maria’s funeral had been hell for all of them on so many levels.
This visit was different, though. They were on Mac’s turf this time.
Nonetheless, this week was going to be hell, too.
Mac washed down a couple of aspirin to dull the throbbing in his temples and turned his computer on for a quick email check. Prior to the arrival of his surprise visitors, he’d planned to lie low and work on some marketing niche ideas or a new design for the brochures he’d last updated six years ago. He needed an edge before the lodge owners let some big shot come in and take his customers. He didn’t normally care what others thought of him, but Tessa was the last person he wanted knowing that he was just getting by. She’d always acted standoffish and better than him in school. After marrying Brice, she really was better off—socially and financially.
But what was bothering him more was that he’d bought into her holiday excuses for being here. It wasn’t until she’d gone back to her room, leaving her scent behind to taunt him, that he realized she must have ulterior motives. She was up to something...or that husband of hers had put her up to something. Like trying to convince him to take over raising Nick. Or perhaps Big Business Brice had sent his trophy wife to convince him to sell out to his latest investment idea. He’d never liked Brice Henning. The guy was too polished. Too perfect and careful. As far as Mac was concerned, shiny surfaces hid things...like polished diamonds hid defects and rough pasts, or like a calm sea glistening in the moonlight hid sharks. He simply wasn’t the kind of guy Mac cared to share a beer with, not that Brice would stoop to drinking beer and socializing with a small-beans pilot.
Still, Mac sincerely felt Brice and Tessa had the better setup for raising a kid: being close to Nick’s school, material comforts and all. Plus, Nick had needed access to good counseling after his parents’ deaths. He’d needed to stay close to the friends he had for peer support. No one wanted the tragedy to send Nick veering along a downhill path. Mac had been doing his share, sending as much money as possible to support his nephew because Walkers took care of Walkers. Regardless of wills.
The money Nick had inherited had been put in a trust for him, but after paying off the debts his parents had, he and Tessa had agreed that the majority of the amount left needed to be saved for his college education. It had been the only thing he and Tessa had ever agreed on.
He hovered his finger over his mouse, then gave into his lack of focus and logged out.
Mac locked his window, grabbed his AWS cap and headed out the door, this time making sure to lock his quarters behind him.
“Morning,” Mac said, taking the mug of hot coffee Sue Bekker held out. He leaned an elbow against the low counter that divided the front desk from the rest of the office. “Sweetheart, you’re spoiling me.”
Sue blushed and patted his arm.
She was the mother of his old friend, Dr. Anna Bekker, who ran the Busara research and rescue camp for orphaned baby elephants. Sue was a skilled, albeit sometimes forgetful, woman who’d battled depression. But ever since she’d reconnected with her daughter and moved from America to live in the Serengeti and work for him, she seemed to embrace life. Something about the region did that to a person. Life here was simple, raw and beautiful. He loved it.
“Well, I figured you’d need it this morning,” she said. “They came in asking for you. The brunette said they were family,” she said, nodding through their glass office doors toward the pretty woman and lanky kid who stood facing one of the lodge’s attractions: a floor-to-ceiling wooden wall carved with images of wildlife, including a herd of elephants the park was so famous for.
Man. Nick had shot up in six months. He had definitely inherited the Walker gene for height. Couldn’t tell much about his face from where he stood. Not with all that hair hanging over it. The boy made a final crease on a flyer-turned-paper-airplane and shot it at the wall. His aunt mouthed something, but he ignored her, walked over to a stand of safari brochures and reversed the stacks in their holders. Mac couldn’t claim fame as having been the world’s easiest teenager. He’d been hell with wings. His gut told him karma had just caught up with him.
Tessa looked ready for action with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and a mini backpack slung stylishly over one shoulder. She was fidgeting impatiently with the pocket of her carpenter-style—and no doubt designer—khakis and what looked to him like the same stormy-blue shirt she’d had on last night. She picked up the plane herself, then scanned the lodge, as if worried they’d get kicked out. The kid was pushing her buttons like a pro. She glanced impatiently at her watch.
Well, a man has a right to coffee first, Princess Tess.
He took a long swig. Tessa turned and spotted him. And the day begins.
“That’s my nephew out there,” he said, breaking eye contact with Tessa. He didn’t share a lot of family information with anyone, but Sue did know he’d lost his brother in a crash.
“Oh! Well, go spend time with him. I have things covered here. Go. Go.” Sue waved him off.
Mac gulped the rest of the coffee down, then set his cap on his head and his hand on the glass door, but Tessa beat him to it. She slipped inside with Nick. An unwelcome fresh scent and all-encompassing energy filled the room. The same energy he’d felt when he’d set eyes on her at Maria and Allan’s wedding. The same energy that had filled his quarters last night.
He’d been stunned by her transformation when he saw her arrive at their siblings’ wedding. If that wasn’t enough, Maria and Allan had called out for them to join them on the floor after their first dance. The way she’d felt in his arms then was the way she’d felt in his arms at the funeral...and again last night. He didn’t like reacting to her. Didn’t want it. Didn’t understand it. They’d never gotten along. It was probably nothing but “hard to get” vibes challenging him. Well, she wasn’t single anymore. Vibes or not, she was off-limits.
“Hello again!” Sue greeted Nick and Tessa a bit too enthusiastically.
Mac held out his hand to shake Nick’s and pulled him into a one-arm hug, slapping his back.
“Hey, man, good to see you.”
“Yeah.”
Guess the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“Sue, this is Nick, my nephew, and Tessa, my, um...his aunt. My sister-in-law.” He scratched the back of his neck as brisk handshakes were exchanged. He needed air. He held the door wide open.
“It’s nice to meet you. Would you like some coffee? It’s freshly brewed,” Sue said, returning behind the front desk. He was not having them linger for coffee.
“We already had breakfast. Thanks, though.”
“If anyone comes asking for me specifically, catch me on the radio,” Mac said. He hesitated, then added, “And don’t forget to reschedule that group tour package for later this afternoon.”
“Group tour?” Sue looked understandably perplexed. Mac set his hands on the counter and leaned close, winking for good measure. The guilt for putting the glow in her cheeks was justified by desperately needing to signal her to play along without Tessa or Nick cluing in.
“Yes, you remember...the magazine photographers...and confirm tomorrow’s customers while you’re at it. Please.”
It took a second for her to catch on.
“Oh, yes, I remember,” she lied.
“Great. What would I do without you? Oh, and Sue, if you need to leave the office for whatever reason, don’t forget to lock up,” he added, ushering Tessa and Nick out the door.
“Of course. I always do,” she said, appearing even more perplexed.
Right.
Mac didn’t have the heart to tell her about last night, considering he had things under control. He had much bigger issues to deal with right now. He let the office door swing shut behind him.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, ruffling Nick’s hair in the hopes of reading his face. Nick ducked away from his touch.
Don’t touch the hair. Got it.
“I’m fine. Not here by choice, but whatever,” Nick said, hanging his head as he spoke and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Tessa watched intently with her lips pressed together. She closed her eyes briefly, in an apparent apology for Nick’s rudeness, then wrinkled her face at Mac in a “would you like to deal with this every day?” expression.
“Whatever works for me,” Mac said. “Seeing as you two beat me out here, how about you help me run a check on my chopper and then we can head up? I’ll give you a taste of piloting if you want.”
Guy stuff. Right? Didn’t every kid like planes, trains and the whole array? Tessa gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Mac caught on right away. He pinched the bridge of his nose. This was why he wasn’t good parent material. Guy stuff...except, maybe, when the kid’s parents had been killed in a plane crash. Hadn’t the flight over bothered him? Or maybe it had and that’s why Tessa was cautioning Mac. Then why’d she mention a tour last night? Unless Nick hadn’t said anything about not wanting to do an air tour until this morning.
Mac rubbed the cramp in his jaw. It didn’t matter. Accidents happened. The kid couldn’t stay grounded for life. Flying was in his blood. But Nick needed to feel in control again and Mac, more than anyone, understood that.
“What about a quick tour of the lodge and the gardens? Maybe a short hike,” Tessa suggested.
“Sure. We don’t have to go up if flying bothers you, Nick,” Mac said. “I assure you, my girl is safer than driving a car, but I can understand fear and...”
“I’m not afraid,” Nick said, raising his voice. “You think I’m some stupid wimp or something? I hate it when everyone treats me like a baby. I didn’t say I was afraid, Aunt Tessa. I said I just didn’t feel like it. I made it here on a plane, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” Mac said. Touchy one. “I’m just giving you options. I can get a jeep, take you on foot or take you up...anything you want, depending on what you’d like to see.”
“Then just do whatever Aunt Tessa wants and get us back home,” he said, storming away. Mac and Tessa watched as he cleared the building and made his way onto a lush terrace of grass and trees, then stopped cold when two vervet monkeys approached him, begging for food. He took several steps back. And then a few more, flattening his palms against the wall he’d backed into. Yeah, the kid was clearly not a wimp.
* * *
GET US BACK HOME. Tessa’s stomach twisted at Nick’s words. The poor kid was about to hurdle another life change—because of her. If she’d simply turned a blind eye and kept her suspicions to herself, they’d both be back at home in South Africa, safe and sound. Well, maybe safe. That was questionable. Now she had no idea when or if she’d ever have a home again. And Nick...his home was going to be here and he didn’t even know it.
“Do we rescue him?” Mac asked. The corner of his mouth twisted into a wry smile as the monkeys tried cornering the poor kid. Mac was enjoying this?
“Of course we do,” Tessa said, swatting his arm. Preying on Nick’s pride was mean, although she had to admit that perhaps he understood teen boys better than she did. She certainly wasn’t a model guardian. No doubt Mac would do better. “Just don’t tell him we are,” she said, heading for the terrace.
Mac followed her out, tossed the pair of squealing beggars a couple of peanuts from his pocket and told Tessa and Nick to head around the corner of the building. The scent of honeyed flowers from a nearby vine wafted on the breeze as they cleared the courtyard area. The rustling shade from a cluster of fig trees welcomed them down a path that gave way to a large clearing and a chopper that had to be his. They still had to walk out to it, since it was parked a safe distance from the lodge itself. She caught Nick actually giving his head a jerk to flick his hair out of the way for a better view. The helicopter was mostly white with a dark green strip down the side and big green lettering that said AWS.
It looked way too small for comfort. Tessa’s pulse quickened and her stomach clenched. The situation, desperation and the need to set an encouraging example for Nick were all that had gotten her through the trip here. Still, she’d left imprints on the arms of her seat during the flight over from Nairobi. But a helicopter wasn’t a commercial plane. A person didn’t feel air turbulence in a big plane the way they did in a little one. She knew that firsthand. She’d never forget the one time her sister and Allan had convinced her to go for a ride in their Cessna. It had been the first and last time. And now, knowing how their lives had ended, the idea of touring in Mac’s helicopter was hitting home. What had she been thinking?
You can do this. Don’t think about Maria. Trust Mac. He won’t let anything bad happen. He’s been flying forever. Allan had been, too.
“Not your kind of chariot?” Mac whispered over her shoulder. Tessa jumped and slapped her hand to her chest. Then she took a deep breath and studied the chopper.
“It’s perfect actually,” she said, forcing a smile. “Show us why Mac Walker decided to call this place home.”
This was it. She was in all the way. Now all she had to do was get him to agree to keep Nick. Doing so would mean swallowing her pride and sharing her worries about Brice. That also meant confessing that her life wasn’t turning out to be as stable and perfect as she’d hoped or let on. And to reckless Mac of all people. That was akin to begging for “I told you so.” As if Mac Walker weren’t cocky enough. She might as well hand him an extra serving of ego on a silver platter.
* * *
CONSIDERING THAT THIS trip had been her idea to begin with, Mac never thought Tessa would be the one scared to go up. Five minutes in the air and Tessa was still gripping the sides of her seat and she hadn’t opened her eyes once. Nick, on the other hand—sitting up front with Mac—had raked his hair out of his face repeatedly to take everything in. Mac resisted suggesting that Tessa loan his nephew her hair elastic.
Maybe being up here was good for the kid. Exposure therapy. A way to remember taking flights with his parents. Kids were more resilient than grown-ups gave them credit for. Tessa, however, had turned into a more cautious person, rather than a stronger one.
Mac spoke into his headset, giving them his usual tour spiel and pointing out the lay of the land and the view of Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. He identified the wildlife herds they spotted, but was pretty sure Tessa didn’t hear a word. Too bad. Her loss. She was missing out on some spectacular scenery. She leaned to one side and rested her forehead in her hand.
Please don’t barf in my bird.
“You need an air sickness bag back there?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t make a mess. She scrunched her face but shook her head. He told her where they were kept in the back, anyway.
“Can we land for a few minutes?” Her mouth clamped shut as fast as the squeaky words left her lips. Boy. She really wasn’t doing so well. Mac altered course.
“Camp Jamba isn’t far. Hang in there.”
Camp Jamba was not a luxury tourist attraction—especially not for a Tessa caliber of tourist—but it was his favorite place to get away. A small camp, nice and remote with minimal offerings. The owners, Mugi and Kesi Lagat, were an older couple who’d become good friends to Mac over the years. More like family. And if this whole trip of Tessa’s was about trying to snap a teen boy out of his funk, then a taste of the rustic life might just do the trick. Come to think of it, taking him to Busara for a day to help out with baby elephant rescues wouldn’t be a bad idea, either. Nothing like helping others to make a person appreciate their own life. The good and the bad.
“What are those?” Nick asked, pointing at a grazing herd, several members of which sported formidable black horns that rose high off their heads in a graceful curve.
“Grant’s gazelle.”
“Cool. Can you see them, Aunt Tessa?” Nick asked, louder than necessary, into his mic. He turned to his aunt, who sat huddled in the back with her eyes still shut. “Oh. Never mind. You okay?”
“I’m fine, Nick. You have fun. I’m fine.”
“We’re almost there, Tess,” Mac added, noting the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. The camp came into view as they cleared a mass of trees. He really wanted her on the ground and out of his baby before she got sick.
He landed in his usual spot and gave them the clear when it was safe to hop out. Tessa ran straight for the bushes.
Getting her back to the Hodari Lodge was going to be very interesting.
* * *
TESSA’S LEGS WOULDN’T stop shaking and they’d been on solid ground for a good fifteen minutes now. She sat on an overturned log that served as a bench near the entrance to Camp Jamba—the kind of camp that catered to granola-loving tree-huggers, from what she could see. She sure hoped they had a jeep and driver here. The thought of going back up in the air made her hands hot and head cold. We landed in one piece. We landed in one piece.
Nick had followed Mac inside, clearly more comfortable with watching wildlife from the air than from the ground. She glanced back at the small, earthy-looking, thatched-roof cottage that Mac told her was both the main office for the camp and the owners’ home. Guests, she assumed, rented one of the framed tents, fashioned from sticks and tarps, that dotted an area about ten yards from the main house. A stone-lined dirt path led to each one and a grove of elephant pepper trees kept the area cool. The entire camp was situated on a low rise overlooking a branch of what Mac had said was the Mara River and a formidable expanse of the Masai Mara grasslands beyond.
She closed her eyes and the fluttering shadows that danced against her lids soothed her nerves. The sounds that surrounded her kind of reminded her of the music they played in her yoga meditation class at home. A person didn’t need earbuds or music here. The air was filled with song so complex, so mesmerizing, it could never be man-made. It was magical. It soothed her motion sickness. She’d never been more out of place, yet she’d never felt so unexpectedly at peace. She was surprised that anything related to Mac’s life could make her feel that way.
She was simply overcome with relief from having successfully fled her house in the Cape with the flash drives. She was projecting that emotion onto Mac’s wilderness. That was all.
Wow. She’d actually taken a risk and made it this far. She had to admit the feeling was a little thrilling. A bit empowering. Mac was the last person on earth she’d ever confess that to. But it wasn’t over and risks came at a price. She knew that better than anyone.
“Drink this,” Mac said, walking up and handing her a soda. “They’re getting more bottled water later today and I didn’t want to risk the well tap on you, even with a filter in place. The bubble in this will make you feel better in any case.” She reluctantly opened her eyes.
“Thanks,” Tessa said, taking the cold bottle from him. Her fingers touched his. She ignored the ripple in her chest and rubbed her fingertips up and down the icy dew that had formed on her bottle. She drank and immediately felt her stomach settle. “Is Nick okay?”
“Yes. He’s browsing some wood carvings and a few things they have for sale, souvenir-wise. They don’t really have a gift shop. When real guests are here, they put out things like T-shirt samples on the porch, but keep the inventory inside their home.”
“I didn’t give him any of the rand I converted to shillings yet.”
“Not a problem. He’s just looking.”
They both sat quietly, taking in the exquisite view of acacia trees and a herd of elephants passing them in the distance. The leaves of the pepper trees rustled overhead and the chatter of a million animal languages vibrated through the air in a lulling rhythm.
“So this is why you live here,” she said. A hint of admission was easier to take than awkward silence.
He nodded.
“It does make for nice meditating,” she allowed.
“And it’s free. Always amazes me that people will dish money out for things to help them relax, yet they never bother to try going for a walk or sitting somewhere like this.”
“Not everyone has access to a place like this. Or even a backyard. You really like prejudging and making assumptions, don’t you? For your information, group meditation classes do have their benefits. They’re motivating and supportive and they really help with anxiety. I even took Nick to one.”
“Bet he loved that.”
She pressed her lips together and turned away. No, Nick had hated it, but Mac didn’t need to know.
“I’m sorry about cutting our flight short. Obviously I’ve flown before—not in a helicopter and I avoid small planes, but big ones I can handle—and I didn’t expect to react the way I did. I was never good at going out on boats with my parents, either. Not even when I was little. At first, it was the motion sickness. Later on it was the nightmares I’d have about them out there on their own. I should have never, ever watched movies like Jaws or The Perfect Storm.” She took another sip. “This mental image of Maria and Allan crashing flashed before me after we took off and I couldn’t get rid of it.”
Mac etched the dry ground with the end of a stick.
“Don’t worry about it. It happened to me a couple of times after the funeral. I had to work a little harder at putting it out of my head and getting in my pilot’s seat. When someone calls you and needs help, it makes putting your fears aside easier. The nerves and memories do hit you in random spurts, don’t they?”
Tessa dug the heel of her sneaker into the ground and ran it back and forth forming a coffin-like trench. Any bigger and she’d be saving Mac the trouble of figuring out where to hide her body once she spilled the truth. She pulled her ponytail loose and scratched her scalp.
“I’m leaving him with you, Mac,” she said, keeping her eyes on a herd wandering so far off in the distance that she couldn’t identify them. “I’m so sorry, but I need to leave him with you. He doesn’t know yet.”
She finally braved a glance at Mac. His jaw was popping like there was no tomorrow as he stared at the dirt just beyond his boots.
“And I had just started to think you were actually coming out of your glass cocoon to enjoy the world around you. That your maternal instincts had kicked in full throttle. Yet you’ve planned all this—this trip—and failed to discuss your decision with either of us. Nice one, Tess.”
“Trust me on this,” she said.
Mac stood abruptly and turned on her.
“I do trust on a case-by-case basis.”
“Brice isn’t father material. He doesn’t have the patience and he’s so busy he’s never around. Nick deserves better than that. He needs a male role model. He’s miserable with me, Mac. And I... I have work I need some time to focus on.”
Mac narrowed his eyes.
“Are you trying to tell me Brice is mistreating him or something? And that you have more important things to do than care for Nick?”
“No! Brice is simply not present and I can’t do this alone.” It was true that Brice hadn’t exactly been an attentive husband or guardian lately, but that was a separate issue. “Nick simply doesn’t mix in well with our life. Our lifestyle is too...”
“Sterile?” Mac offered. She glared.
“If you care at all about Nick, you’ll take him in. At least for a while,” she said, trying to soften the blow but knowing full well that “a while” would turn into “until he’s a legal adult.”
Mac sat back down and scrubbed at his face.
“I’m about to take on a lot more work, Tessa. Largely, so I can continue to provide for his expenses. There’s no way I can keep an eye on him and make sure he’s not freaking out at every turn when an animal shows up. They kind of tend to around here. Plus, you saw where I live. And school. He may be on holiday right now, but you can’t rip him out of his school at this age. We agreed he needed to have his peers around him.”
“Yes, we agreed, but things have changed, okay? I tried...”
“No!” Nick appeared at the door to the cottage looking like an irate bull. Tessa and Mac both leaped off the log. “You liars! You selfish, little...” The trail of cussing that ensued had Tessa covering her face while Mac tried to get a calming word in edgewise. With the kid’s anger-fueled lungs, half the Serengeti had probably just gotten a ripe lesson in original insults.
“Nick, calm down. Let’s talk. Nothing has happened yet,” Mac said with his palms held up. “And you owe your aunt exactly nineteen apologies by this evening or I might rent you a permanent tent right here at this camp.”
“Nick, I was going to talk to you, but...” Tessa tried adding.
“Both of you need to just shut up,” Nick persisted, pacing and gripping his head as he yelled. “You make me sick! I hate you!”
“That’s it. Tessa, come with me,” Mac said, leading the way to the cottage. “You, Nick, park it on that log until you get in control. No control, no inside. No flight back. Got it?”
Tessa hurried after Mac, shocked at how he’d handled their nephew. For one thing, Brice had never ordered Nick to apologize to her. He didn’t feel comfortable reprimanding him. Nick had had plenty of outbursts before and not once had Brice intervened as Mac had. Not for her sake or Nick’s. He dealt with Nick’s outbursts by telling her to take him to see a different therapist.
She briefly greeted the owners—Mugi and Kesi, if she’d caught their names correctly. Her mind was on Nick so she wasn’t paying attention. She apologized for anything they might have overheard, then glanced out the window. Nick had actually listened to Mac and was sitting on the log, rubbing his hands along his jeans.
“Will he be okay out there alone? What if he runs off?” she asked.
“He’s surrounded by wildlife. Trust me, Tessa. He won’t move more than two feet from that log unless it’s to run toward this door.”
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_8b3be837-fad1-5512-8881-df4fda9fbcf9)
NICK LASTED NO more than ten minutes and the look on his face made Mac feel like scum, but the kid had gone over the top. No wonder Tessa was begging Mac to take over. Had Brice not been supporting her in raising him? Mac understood what Nick had to be going through. Around the same age, Mac’s mother had abandoned the family, and his father, left to raise his sons on his own, had always favored Allan as the son with potential. His parents may have been alive when he was a teenager, but his world had been turned upside down just the same. Mac had left the Cape long before his father, a South African air force veteran, passed away, and their last encounter had not been on the best of terms. He and Allan had become close brothers because they really could only count on each other. But as much as Mac had hated his father’s overly strict and emotionally removed parenting style at the time, he knew firsthand that what Nick needed were boundaries. Without them, the kid was going to be as lost as Mac had been.
Mac exchanged looks with Tessa as they listened to Nick’s fifty-percent-sincere apology—a percentage Mac figured was pretty good for a teenager.
“Apology accepted,” Tessa said...maybe a little too quickly. “Nick, you know I loved your mom. She was my sister and she trusted me to do what’s best for you. I had to make this call.”
Nick simply chewed the inside of his cheek and turned away, his nostrils still flaring.
“Well, clearly these aren’t the makings of a real holiday, so why don’t we abort the rest of today and head back to discuss this,” Mac suggested. A family discussion. The phrase hit him from out of the blue, and he almost laughed out loud at the notion. The three of them were like three stray puzzle pieces from different boxes that would never fit together, let alone form a picture of a family.
“Yeah. I want to go back,” Nick said. “First, tell me where a guy is supposed to pee around here without a lion biting his...”
“Hey!” Mac held up a warning finger and Nick chose not to finish his sentence. Something about Nick’s attitude made Mac want to keep the fact that the cottage actually had a flushable toilet to himself, but he resisted blurting the few ideas he had on where else to go pee. There were always bushes with lurking predators.
“If you ask politely, Mr. or Mrs. Lagat will show you a bathroom you can use,” Mac said.
Nick left a dust cloud in his wake. Tessa rubbed her arms.
“Can I get a ride back on wheels? I’ll pay for the service,” she said.
“I’m usually the service people use to get out here. The camp does have a jeep, but it’s typically used to take guests out on safari.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what. You go on. We’ll stay the night. But I really need to see if someone here has a charger I can borrow or a computer I can use. I have to check my emails and take care of a few things, and there’s no way I’m getting back in your helicopter. Someone can fetch me tomorrow in a jeep.”
“Hate to break it to you, darling, but there’s no internet out here, and do you have any idea how much longer it would take to get back by jeep?” Mac asked.
The Tessa he’d known hadn’t been quite so clueless. If anything, writing for their school paper had given her a smart—albeit nerdy—image. Living with money had spoiled her. She’d had a soft heart for animals in shelters back then and always posted articles about school fund-raisers and food drives to help support them. She’d even taken home one too many herself. She told him they kept her company. Maria had been more of a social, outgoing type than Tessa and spent much of her time at school events, and their parents were often away at sea. Maria had been a lot like them. Much like Mac’s brother had followed in his father’s footsteps. Tessa, not so much. He’d kind of felt sorry for her.
Mac had tried reaching out to Tessa since his brother hung around her sister all the time. He’d even attempted to draw Tessa into their crowd, but she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. He made her nervous for some reason, so he’d backed off. He still was around a lot, though, because of Maria and Allan dating. He’d once overheard Tessa having an argument with her sister in her bedroom; she’d cried about wanting to be more than the latch-key daughter of adrenaline-driven parents. She was fed up with them prioritizing work over spending time at home with their daughters, and risking their lives at sea. She’d been royally ticked off at him when she opened her room door and found him lingering in the hall. Allan’s plans for hanging out in their backyard were cut short when Mac told him they’d better leave before Tessa killed him.
And then there was the time during Allan’s senior year when Mac had tagged along to visit Maria and fire up the grill. He’d gone inside to grab a drink and ran into Tessa freaking out. Her computer crashed before she had the chance to save her English paper that was due the next morning. He insisted she use his essay, which would have no doubt been worse than hers but was better than nothing. He ended up writing a second one and turning it in after the deadline. His father gave him a lot of flak for the late penalty, but Mac figured he’d have picked on something about his grade regardless. Seeing the relief and gratitude on Tessa’s face had been so worth it. And he’d obviously mistaken it for a truce. A friendship. Right now, Tessa was looking at him with the same wrenching expression as she had that night.
“No internet. For real? Not even for an hour a day or dial-up or something?”
She was obviously desperate, but Nick, who’d just returned from using the facilities and overheard her...he seemed absolutely horrified.
“We could knock you out for the flight,” Mac said, scooping up a fist-size rock and bouncing it in his hand.
Tessa glared at him.
“You’re not even funny,” she said. “Why is it you think you’re so funny?”
He grinned and winked at her.
“Because I am.” He tossed the rock into a nearby bush and cranked his neck. “Come on, the Tessa I knew was a survivor. I’m betting you can suck it up and manage the trip. With puke bags in hand.”
“It’s not happening,” she said. “My head is still spinning.”
Mac whipped his cap off and put his hands on his hips. He needed to get back to work. This was ridiculous.
“Be reasonable.”
“I am being reasonable.”
“I’m not staying here all night, Aunt Tessa,” Nick warned. “I could get bitten by a venomous snake or something. Or get eaten alive. What happened to doing what was best for me?”
Mac had to hand it to the kid. He knew how to manipulate and guilt-trip like a pro.
“Yep, what he said,” Mac added.
“You two are ganging up on me?” Tessa asked. “I’m telling you, I’m not going back. I mean, not in that flying tin can. Nick is free to return to the lodge with you.”
“On second thought, nothing like a night out under the stars to make a man out of a boy. Camping here would be good for you, Nick. A new experience.” Mac smiled at his nephew.
Nick stormed back to the cottage. Mac was grateful that Mugi and Kesi were staying inside to give them some privacy. He’d given them a signal earlier when Nick had lost his composure. Not that Mac cared what anyone thought of him—sort of—but his friends meeting his nephew and Tessa for the first time was turning out to be a little embarrassing. Mac lifted his cap, scratched his head, then set it back in place.
“I tell you what,” he said, sitting back down next to Tessa. “Why don’t you go inside, chat with the Lagats and check on Nick. You have some explaining to do. At least out here he won’t run away. Maybe after a longer rest, you’ll be ready for the flight.”
She dropped her head into her hands.
“You don’t understand, Mac.”
“I could see if Kesi can brew up one of her concoctions to help with your stomach. She’s very skilled with herbs.”
“I need to get back,” she said, her hands muffling her voice.
Oh man. Was she crying? He hoped not. This was why he lived alone. He silently swore, then rubbed her back. It was instinct. An act of comfort. Brother-in-law to sister-in-law. But she shivered when he made contact and he quickly pulled back.
“That would be the point,” he agreed. “Get back and clear up the Nick situation. Clearly you can see this whole idea spells disaster.” If she wanted to go back, then why was she arguing about it? Why couldn’t women make sense?
“I’m messing up your scheduled flights. I’m so sorry,” she said, raising her head.
“My...oh, yes...my customers. The photographers. Right. Um, no worries. I’ll radio Sue and tell her to take care of things. They won’t mind rescheduling.”
“Mac, can I trust you?”
“I got you here in one piece, didn’t I?”
She turned and, this time, she wrapped one of her hands around his. The sight of her slender fingers braided with his wiped out his train of thought.
“What’s going on here, Tess? This isn’t just about Nick, is it?”
She shook her head and licked her lips. Too close for comfort. Was Tessa Henning coming on to him?
“I may be in trouble. Possibly even in danger. Not one word to anyone, Mac, until I have a chance to figure this out. Promise me.”
He nodded because how could he not. She wasn’t flirting. She was desperate again. It must be some pretty deep trouble for her to have brought Nick here. Tessa looked over her shoulder, then back at him.
“Mac, I think Brice may be involved in an ivory smuggling ring.”
Crap.
Mac pulled his hand out of hers. Ivory smuggling? He got up and she leaped after him.
“Not a word to anyone, Mac. Not yet at least.”
He turned on her, bringing his face within an inch of hers and lowering his voice. He hadn’t noticed any campers, but one never knew and voices carried around here.
“Do you have any idea what you’re saying, Tess? The implication? This better not be about some marital spat or a ploy to justify uprooting Nick.”
“Is that how little you think of me? Why would you assume the worst? I came to you because I want Nick in a safe place if this turns into a legal fiasco and the media comes down on us. Or worse. And because I thought I could trust you with this. Allan used to brag about the work you’ve done with the Kenyan Wildlife Service, helping to catch poachers, and about how you’ve volunteered for animal rescues in the area. I thought maybe you’d know something. Or know who I can trust among the authorities, because don’t believe for a second that Brice can’t pay for silence.”
Mac pulled back a few inches. His pulse pounded in his temples. His brother had bragged about him? They were close, but Allan had always been so much like their father, critical to a fault. He played the role of big brother, but bragging about Mac was pushing it. The fact that he’d told anyone he was proud of Mac was an unexpected punch in the gut.
“You can trust me, Tessa. That’s not the point. You’re talking about murder here. Brutal poaching. Tessa, ivory smuggling is an illegal and deadly trade—and deaths aren’t always limited to elephants. I won’t lie. Brice isn’t my favorite person. He’s just not my type, but he’s a smart businessman. Too smart to get involved in shady dealings.”
Tessa closed her eyes and shook her head.
“I know. It all sounds surreal, and I assure you I didn’t come up with this overnight. I know it’s dangerous. Why do you think I’m here with Nick and not still back at our home?” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail like she meant business. “I stole some drives from his desk before leaving. I have no idea what’s on them, but I couldn’t take a chance. If he’s involved in something like this, I need to know.”
Yep, she meant business.
“You took his files?”
Damn it. Tessa’s suspicions could turn into a full-blown disaster. If she was right.
“He thinks I’m here visiting with Nick.”
“Until he discovers what else you brought with you.”
“He’s out of town for a few days. Which is why I need to find out if there’s anything important on the drives as soon as possible. I can always put them back if they’re clear and he’s not home yet. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I misunderstood what I overheard. It’s a lot of maybes, I know. I need to find out the truth. He’s my husband, Mac. I could ruin his life. If I’m wrong, I don’t want him knowing that I doubted him.”
“If you find proof that backs up what you’re saying, then what’ll your next move be? Have you thought that far? What are you planning? To disappear? Turn him in and ask for official protection?”
She didn’t answer.
“Okay, then. We’re staying here tonight,” Mac said.
“What?”
“We’re staying. I need to hear details, whatever you can tell me, and we’re a lot less likely to be overheard by the wrong ears—and I don’t mean Nick—out here than back at my office. I’ll call Sue and tell her we’re...somewhere else...camping out.” He didn’t want Sue blurting anything to the wrong people. She was too trusting.
Mac pinched the bridge of his nose. Come to think of it, if things went south, he couldn’t leave Sue at the mercy of anyone searching for them. She’d be safer visiting Anna and Jack at Busara for a while. Spending time with her grandkids. He was going to need to call Anna and Jack and make arrangements for getting her there, since he was not ready to leave Tessa and Nick alone. Not until he had a better grasp of the situation. Unfortunately, staying here also meant Air Walker Safaris would be losing business. Business he couldn’t afford to lose.
“I’ll ask Mugi and Kesi to keep quiet, too. If you need anything, you can trust them.”
“Mac. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Just hope Brice doesn’t come home early.”
* * *
TESSA HAD TO admit Mac was right. Lying low at Camp Jamba was a smart idea. Brice knew they were traveling to see Nick’s uncle, but she had told him they were meeting Mac in Nairobi. The rest of the trip to Hodari Lodge she’d paid for in cash. Mac’s office would be the first place he’d come looking for her if there was incriminating information on those drives. Still, it bought her a little time. Camp Jamba was another step removed, which meant even more of a buffer between them and Brice. But she wouldn’t get any closer to confirming her suspicions out here.
Maybe she should have told Mac what was going on last night in his office...where a computer was available. She drank the last sip of her soda. No. Her instincts had kept her from doing so. She needed to trust her gut. He wouldn’t have listened then. She wouldn’t have been able to dish the note-writing excuse to him. Just as he’d pointed out that more modern conveniences would have made running away easier for Nick, the same could have applied to Mac. He could have acted in defense before listening to anything she had to say about Nick or Brice. Maybe she needed to trust her gut more often.
The aroma of spices and the warm char of open-flamed cooking drifted past her, a solid reminder that she’d been too nervous to eat breakfast this morning—a saving grace considering how she reacted to not being on solid ground. She went inside to thank the Lagats for letting them stay, but soon realized she needed more fresh air.
The flaming Serengeti sun burned directly overhead and a chicken, of all things, ran past her, squawking like it was being chased by an invisible predator until it found the safety of its flock under a fig tree. Maybe her mind was also making up things to fear about Brice. Did she subconsciously want out of her marriage? Was she looking for reasons to leave?
There was no point in procrastinating any longer. She couldn’t let Nick hate her. She couldn’t let him think she didn’t want him around or that she had priorities greater than him. True, she had to make a decision to leave him with Mac, but not for the same reasons her parents had left her alone so often. They were so busy with their aquatic research that they couldn’t focus on their children, too. She finally understood how important their work was, but back then she’d been like Nick. Just needing someone to be around...a safety net to catch her as she muddled through her teens...a home and family like all the other kids had. As a child, she’d wanted to feel secure and not have to worry every night—especially during storms—that one or both of her parents might not come home.
She wanted to be that safety net for Nick, but right now, the only way to keep him safe was to pull that net out from under him. And hope Mac was there to catch his fall.
The air vibrated with the trumpeting of elephants in the distance, as if they’d heard her thoughts and were trying to share their wisdom about motherhood and the delicate cycle of life.
If only she spoke elephant.
As a child, she spoke to her adopted cats and sometimes believed they understood her. They’d give her a sign: a lazy blink or a sedating purr that rumbled deep against her chest.
She needed a sign now.
The roar of a lion had her turning quickly toward the path to the cottage. Mac stood on the front porch, leaning against the wooden log that supported the thatched overhang, watching her, the piercing blue of his eyes intense and knowing. Maybe it was the way the Kenyan sun had left its warmth on his skin or how stubble shadowed the hard lines of his jaw, but the way he looked at her sparked a smoldering ache in her chest. She swallowed hard to extinguish it. If only Mac hadn’t wanted to get away from home so badly. Maybe they would have eventually become friends. But he’d wanted to escape and explore and she’d wanted—needed—stability.
And now she didn’t even have that.
Was this her sign? That the one thing—the one person—who would make her and Nick’s life whole and balanced was the one man she’d turned away from years ago? The one man who knew how small, insecure and insignificant she used to be? She stared down at her feet as she walked up the path toward him.
Life could be so cruel.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_e08af8b7-42c9-584e-8020-ab97b1bd2b54)
“HEY. DON’T TOUCH that yet.”
Mac gave Nick a warning look and didn’t break eye contact until his nephew pulled his hand away from the basket of fresh, warm chapati.
“What? It’s there to eat, isn’t it?” Nick said, eyeing the traditional flatbread like a hyena with its tongue lolling out. The boy was acting spoiled, like these were free-for-all breadsticks at an Italian restaurant, but this wasn’t a restaurant. They weren’t campers paying for a safari stay. Those meals were served outdoors. Come to think of it, Mac didn’t think he’d ever been just a guest here. They were dining in the Lagats’ home. Very dear friends who deserved respect.
“It’s there to eat after Mugi and Kesi join us and you thank them for the meal. It’s called manners,” Mac said, glancing at Tessa to read her reaction.
“We don’t always have sit-down meals,” she explained. “Brice isn’t usually home for dinner because of work, and Nick is so hungry after school that he stuffs himself then. And then again about every hour after that,” she added, smiling at Nick. Her attempt to soften him up with good-natured teasing went right over his head.
Mac looked pointedly at both of them. He remembered well the consuming hunger that would hit him as a teenager during bouts of raging hormones or growth spurts. It had to be the closest a guy could get to understanding pregnancy cravings. It hadn’t been unusual for him to eat an entire roast down to the bone—by himself—and then get hungry again soon after. So he got it, but that didn’t excuse bad manners or lack of respect.
Nor, as far as he was concerned, did living on riches. He’d seen one too many kids come through Hodari Lodge with families who could afford the place and then some, acting careless and entitled. No nephew of his was going to act that way. Losing one’s parents wasn’t an excuse, either. Life wasn’t always fair, but a kid had to grow up understanding how to handle punches like a man—with morals, honor and dignity.
Wow. He was sounding like his own father.
There had to be some give and take, though. Mac leaned back in his chair and rested his palms on his khakis. Who was he to judge Nick’s behavior and attitude when he’d willingly left him with Tessa and Brice? In a convoluted way, he was just as guilty as Brice when it came to putting a lot of value on money. As a millionaire investor, Brice wasn’t around to be the quintessential family man because making money was his priority. And Mac wasn’t around because he needed to make money to live and help support his nephew. And given Air Walker Safaris’ financial state, Mac knew full well that money was important. However, some people didn’t have their priorities straight. Need and want were very different things.
But Mac’s ideals and values were essentially meaningless if he wasn’t around to instill them...to set an example. Even if staying in South Africa was best for Nick on so many levels, in the end, all Mac was doing was sending his nephew money. He wasn’t really in a position to judge Brice, or his own father, for that matter. Or Tessa.
He rubbed his jaw against his shoulder and stretched his neck.
“Yes, well, consider this a lesson in manners. The Lagats are like family to me. It doesn’t matter that they just met you. You’ve been invited into their home because anyone I care about they care about, too. That’s the kind of people they are.”
Nick slumped back and looked away from both of them, arms folded and face flushed. The rims of his eyes turned pink. Poor guy was fighting for control. He’d never asked for any of this. Not losing his parents. Not being here in the middle of nowhere. And certainly not being juggled between the only two people in the world he had left.
The last time Mac had been in the same room with him, Nick had not quite hit thirteen yet and he’d retreated into himself. He’d changed a lot since the days after the funeral. It was like he was ready to discover himself...but he didn’t know how. And his safety net was full of holes. Apparently, so was Tessa’s. Good thing Mac didn’t need safety nets. Not having to rely on anyone had been his most liberating discovery as a young man. Maybe that’s what Nick had to learn.
Tessa was nibbling on the corner of her lip. She shook her head ever so slightly as she studied the back of Nick’s head. Everyone was feeling disappointed and frustrated. No one felt in control.
“Hey, man,” Mac offered. “Wait until you try Kesi’s cooking. Trust me. It’ll be worth the wait.”
“No more waiting,” Mugi said, coming in the back door with a large bowl of what appeared to be a vegetable curry. Mouthwatering aromas permeated the room and lingered, despite the soft breezes floating through the screened windows and doors. He set the plate on the old wooden table and smoothed the simple black-and-brown patterned dashiki shirt that Mac recognized as the one Kesi had recently made. She’d made him one, too, only she’d chosen a brighter yellow-and-orange pattern for Mac, saying it was because he liked to be in the sky with the sun. Kesi was right behind Mugi with several more dishes.
“Kesi makes the best chapati. She cooks it in an iron pan over an open flame out back. Please, help yourself,” Mugi said. “And this is vegetable and potato curry and this other dish is sukuma wiki. Fried onion, tomato and spinach.”
“My gosh, this looks like it was so much work. I wasn’t expecting a vegetarian meal. I’ll admit, I was prepared to just eat bread and claim to not be hungry, out of politeness, but boy, am I relieved. I’m starving. We didn’t mean to bother you,” Tessa said.
“It’s no bother when it comes from the heart.” Kesi smiled and laid her worn hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Any family of Mac’s is family of ours.”
“Thank you,” Tessa said, dipping her chin. The corner of her mouth tipped into a grateful but slightly sad smile.
Mac felt her kick his boot lightly and raised his brows. Her eyes opened wide and pink spread to her cheeks. She glanced sideways at Nick, and from his abrupt thanks to Kesi and Mugi, Mac figured she’d kicked the wrong foot the first time. He couldn’t resist messing with her. He tapped hers back, anyway.
* * *
TESSA DID HER best to ignore the way the corner of Mac’s mouth lifted lazily after he kicked her foot under the table. If he added that flirty wink he was famous for in school, she’d scream. Don’t...don’t... He did it. She took a deep breath and turned her attention to the Lagats. She knew Mac wasn’t really flirting. She was a married woman. He’d never even gone out with ex-girlfriends of his buddies back in school. But he had always enjoyed giving her a hard time. If it was at all possible for a sexy wink to be aggravating, he’d just pulled it off. Why did that not surprise her?
“You look a lot like Mac did when I first met him, Nick,” Mugi said with a deep chuckle. His accent was highlighted with a different quality than Kesi’s musical voice. Tessa couldn’t place it. He sat down at the end of the table and eyed Mac to his left and Nick to his right, then scratched his graying sideburns. Tessa had no idea why, but the scene struck her oddly as one of grandfather, father and son.
“I look like my dad,” Nick said, raising his chin as if to uncover his face and prove his point. He totally had his mother’s chin.
“I’m not surprised, given your uncle carries the same blood,” Mugi pointed out. “I never met your father, but I can already see pride runs deep in your family. It makes a man strong, if not stubborn.”
“Stop giving our Mac a hard time.” Kesi laughed at the opposite end of the table, closer to Tessa. She wore pants and a white cotton top embroidered around the neck. A printed scarf was wrapped around her head and beaded earrings added beautiful traditional touches to her outfit. Her style would have made a great subject for one of Tessa’s fashion columns. Kesi couldn’t have been much younger than Mugi, yet her warm skin had such a youthful glow.
“Are you two calling me stubborn? Me?” Mac asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a piece of chapati, tore it and offered half to Nick. Nick took one bite and immediately reached for another piece.
“Oh, should I tell embarrassing stories of the first time you landed here?” Kesi smiled as she waved her hand across the table. “Please, everyone, fill your plates and don’t be shy. There’s enough for seconds and thirds.”
“I think I need to hear this story,” Tessa said.
“Yeah. Embarrass Uncle Mac. Please.” The way Nick’s lopsided smile mirrored Mac’s was uncanny. She wished she had a camera.
“Did he run out of gas and get stranded?” Tessa ventured.
“Worse. He ran out of gas on the wrong side of the river,” Kesi said. “You tell them, Mugi. I love hearing this story.”
“They don’t want to hear it,” Mac insisted.
“Yes, we do,” Tessa and Nick said simultaneously.
Mugi laughed and put his elbows up on the table. He leaned a few conspiratorial inches toward Nick and jerked his head at Mac.
“Your uncle here was out on his first flight in the area. No passengers. Just him...a fledgling.” Mugi chuckled. “So he had lost his bearings and realized he was too low on gas to make it back safely. According to him, he had been told over the radio that there was a camp nearby, but the trees had just greened up, lush enough to make spotting this place from the air difficult. So he went for a clearing...but not the one where you landed today. No, this one was across the river. Kesi and I were sitting at the edge of the camp watching the various herds make their way upstream for water when we saw him land. Now, mind you, where there’s prey, predator is not far behind.”
“So you called out to him?” Nick asked, chewing more slowly.
“Of course not. We just watched to see what he’d do. After all, even lions have babies to feed. He was just part of the food chain we were observing in action. There’s no television out here. A guy needs entertainment.”
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