They never had to hide under the tarp, but the sun beat down on them mercilessly. And when the trees provided shade, they swapped the fiery sun for humidity so thick it could be cut with a knife.
The children complained of being thirsty, but Kerry carefully rationed their water. Fresh water might not be easy to come by. Besides, the more they drank, the more often she would have to ask Linc to stop. She wanted to avoid asking him for any favors.
He kept driving even after the sun had sunk below the tree line and had pitched the jungle into premature twilight. Darkness had completely fallen by the time they drove through a deserted village. As a safety precaution, Linc had signaled for Kerry
to hide herself and the children under the tarp. He circled the village, and when he was satisfied that it was truly deserted, drove a half mile beyond it and pulled the truck into a clearing.
“We’ll stop here for the night.”
Kerry gratefully took his hand and let him lift her down. She planted both palms in the small of her back and arched it, stretching her cramped muscles.
Linc averted his eyes from her breasts, which were emphasized by her stretching exercise. They strained the sweat-damp fabric of her shirt. He couldn’t help but remember how responsive they’d been to his touch. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Will you be all right if I walk back to the village and scout around?”
“Of course. Can we build a fire?”
“Yes, but keep it small. I’ll take Joe with me. Here,” he yanked the pistol from his belt and twirled it, presenting her with the butt of it.
She took it, but looked at it fearfully. “I told you this morning that I wasn’t sure how to use it.”
He gave her a quick lesson. “If you have to shoot it, be sure your target is as close to you as I was this morning. Then you can’t miss.” He grinned crookedly. She answered his smile. Then he and the boy faded into the darkness.
She put one of the older girls in charge of the younger children and sent the boys to gather firewood. By the time Linc and Joe returned, Kerry had a low fire going. Joe was carrying blankets. The bodies of two scrawny chickens were dangling from Linc’s hand.
“Perfect fire,” he told Kerry.
“Thank you.”
“These may not go far.” Apologetically he indicated the chickens. “But they were all I could find.”
“I’ll open a can or two of vegetables and make a stew.”
He nodded and moved away from her and the children to pluck and dress the chickens. For which she was supremely grateful.
Though they had dozed while traveling, the children were almost too exhausted to eat. Kerry encouraged them, knowing that this might be their last hot meal for a few days. Eventually they had all been fed and put on pallets in the back of the pickup.
She was sitting near the dying fire sipping a precious cup of coffee when Linc joined her and refilled his cup. “See or hear anything?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“No. Everything’s quiet. Which is almost unnerving. I’d rather I know where they are.”
“They?”
“Everybody but us.” He grinned. The firelight caught his wide, white smile.
Kerry looked away from it. It was disturbingly attractive. “You surprised me.”
“How?”
“By being so wonderful to the children. Thank you.”
“Thank you for the aspirin. They helped improve my headache and my disposition.”
“I’m serious. I appreciate your kind handling of these orphans.”
“I’ve done some terrible things in my lifetime, but I’ve never abused a child,” he said tightly. He sipped his coffee and stretched his long legs out in front of him.
She hadn’t meant to intimate that he had, but thought it best to drop the subject.
“Tell me about them,” he said after a long moment. “Mary.”