The Captive's Return (Wingmen Warriors 10)

"I work for the military."

"What's military?"

"Soldiers," he explained, but even in the dark he could see her brow was still furrowed, so he continued, "army men, with guns."

"Oh." She scooted toward Sara again.

Guns. Of course she was afraid of them after the past two days. Good God, the kid had nearly been blown up more than once.

He slid his gun back into the harness, grateful for the cover of night that hopefully masked the dark weapon. "There are good guys with guns and bad guys. Bad ones try to hurt people, like yesterday. Good guys with guns try to protect people. I'm one of the good guys."

Still, she didn't move nearer again. Smart kid not to believe everything somebody told her.

"So why do military peoples eat bugs like little kids do?"

"For survival training."

"Huh?" Her brow crinkled again.

He needed to remember that just because a kid was smart didn't mean she had his vocabulary yet. He had a lot more to learn than could be found in a few cartoon flicks, and far more than when he'd brought Tomas to the States. "Guys like me eat them for food when we're away from home."

"Like now?"

"Exactly."

Rustle. Rustle. She inched her way back over to him. "So I can eat bugs'stead of those icky yellow nanners off the tree?"

"If it's the right kind of bug. But you know to stay away from the frogs, right?" Tree frogs in the region were almost always poisonous.

"Mama told me. Frogs make you sick. But what about the bugs? Do we gots the right kind?" She scooched closer until her tiny knee bumped against his. "Yummy kinds that crunch."

Crunch? He could imagine Sara shuddering over that. "I'll check around in the morning for a yummy bug. Although I'll still need to ask your mother first."

"If you're my padre then you could say it's okay."

He should probably do something, like pat her back. Yeah, that sounded right, so he patted, got her shoulder instead, but she didn't screech or anything so he must have done it right.

God Almighty, she was so small. The awesome responsibility of keeping her alive and safe in the middle of a damn jungle crashed down on him. He was so in over his head.

"We should still ask your mother in case you've got allergies—foods that make you sick."

"If you ask her, I'll never get to eat'em again. She thinks bugs are icky."

If he didn't watch out, he'd lose all of his objectivity around this kiddo fast. He'd better do a little maneuvering of his own before she had him rolling logs at midnight to unearth a bedtime snack. "I'll make a deal with you. If you'll try to go back to sleep, and be really quiet during our walk, I'll see about talking your mama into a bug feast."

"Gracias! That's better than a horsie ride. Buenas noches." She slid away and curled against her mama again.

Huffy sleeping breaths soon reassured him he could relax with nothing more to do than stay on guard for prowling animals. She may not have hugged him goodnight, but he could still feel the imprint of her sitting beside him. She was real. A kid he would know for the rest of his life.

What did he understand about parenting? He didn't have any example to follow of playdates in the park or bedtime stories with prayers.

"Gracias."

The repeated whisper threw him for a second...until he realized this thanks came from Sara.

Did these two ever sleep? Or were they both hell-bent and determined to chew on his emotions all night long? "For what?"

"For making her happy while I napped. For figuring out ways to keep her quiet without making her afraid."