Lucas couldn't avoid the obvious any longer.
She'd almost drifted off to sleep walking. He'd stopped early for the night by a waterfall, and she had gone to sleep sitting up, halfway through brushing her teeth. She looked so damn cute with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.
He'd tugged the toothbrush out and gently lowered her onto her side. Luckily, two bananas later, Lucia curled up against her mother, content to rest quietly rather than talk to him.
Fair enough. He had plenty to do setting up camp— which gave him more time to think and worry about Sara.
A trek through the jungle was tiring, no question, but her exhaustion went beyond that. His job as a commander honed his instincts in watching others for signs of nearing the end of their reserves.
She'd been a dynamo of energy before. Not just in the bedroom, but she'd loved to dance at embassy functions until the band shut down. Or after working late into the evening, corral him into a midnight meal in downtown Cartina.
She'd mentioned a difficult pregnancy and slow recovery from her injuries. But it had been five years. An itchy sensation prickled along the back of his neck. Like a niggling thought?
Or the sense of eyes watching him.
Scanning the perimeter of their small camp, he reached for his gun strapped to his waist. Using the weapon would be a last resort since the sound would announce their location to Chavez—or worse yet, Padilla. But he didn't plan to wrestle a jaguar.
He inched to his feet, crouching. A pair of eyes glowed a few inches away. He blinked, his vision adjusting to the dark.
Lucia.
His exhale of relief only lasted a second before his brain keyed him into a more serious crisis. The kid was awake and Sara needed her sleep.
How was he supposed to keep a child occupied in the jungle? He could fly a military cargo plane in combat, command an entire squadron of aviators, trek through this jungle for months on end if need be.
But he was seriously deficient in the fairy-tale department.
Be logical. She was just a little person, right? Think about what anyone would need. "Do you need to use the bushes?"
"Nuh-uh."
"How about something to eat?" He scooped up a mango, pulled his knife from his boot and sliced off a wedge.
She scrunched her nose—ah crap—no tantrums, kiddo.
Maybe he would do better wrestling that jaguar after all.
Lucia popped the fruit into her mouth and chewed, swiping her wrist over a trickle of juice at the corner of her mouth. "I like bugs."
Huh? Maybe he could think up a bug fairy-tale. Wasn't there even some kid movie like that? He needed to invest in some serious DVD rental time when he got back. "Yeah, I like them, too."
"I like to eat'em most of all."
Well that sure surprised a smile out of him. He passed her another slice of mango. "I'll bet your mama doesn't like that much."
"Not much," she agreed, her mouth full. "You ever eat bugs?"
"Yep." He carved another slice for himself.
She stopped chewing. "Really? Did your madre get mad?"
"I was twenty-three years old. My mama didn't know."
"Wow!" she gasped. "You ate bugs when you was a grown-up? Wow! Mama says I'm too old to eat bugs, but wait'll I tell her."
Great. "You should listen to your mother."
Leaves rustled as she inched away from Sara, closer to him. "Why did you eat'em?"