“Your what?” He picked up where they’d left off. Please, anything, but a child. Not a child. The ambassador knew. Gabe had had a feeling he’d been hiding something.
Gabe steamed as frustration boiled through him. This was not in the game plan. Get in, get the girl, get out. That was the plan. Nothing about a child. Especially her child. The twinge of jealousy took him by surprise, but he quickly forgot about it as he watched her disappear through the mess of twisting vines and leaves.
He quickly caught up and caught her arm. “Slow down,” he hissed. Then he focused on the fact that his fingers wrapped around her upper arm almost effortlessly. Gabe frowned, appalled at her fragile state. Once the adrenaline wore off, she wouldn’t last long without some rest and nutrition.
She yanked away from him; blinked back tears. “You don’t understand. I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. I have to.” Desperation flashed.
Gabe groaned, “Cassidy, those men aren’t going to give up. They’re closing in on us even as we stand here arguing.”
“Then I suggest we argue while we move. And if you’re supposed to keep me alive, could you do a better job of it with me than you did with Micah?” With that flat question, she headed north when Gabe desperately wanted to head west. These last few days had been his nightmare come true. And it wasn’t over yet.
And Cassidy scored a bull’s-eye every time she opened her mouth.
He squeezed his eyes tight to tamp down the memories of the explosion, the gun in his ear. The click. He swallowed hard, blew out a frustrated sigh and stomped after her, catching up quickly. Just in time to reach out and pull her weaving, swaying form into his arms.
“Gabe? I don’t feel so good.” She slurred her words and moaned. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out.
“Sit down for a minute.” Holding her close scrambled his thought processes, but somehow he managed to ease her onto the jungle floor. She rested against a fallen log, leaned her head back and shut her eyes.
Gabe asked, “When was the last time you ate?”
Her brow crinkled as she thought. “Um…I’m not sure. Yesterday, lunch, I think.”
Gabe growled, “Not smart. Here. Your blood sugar’s probably getting ready to bottom out.” He swung the backpack down beside her and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. “It’s not exactly the seven-course meal that you’re used to, but it’s all I’ve got and it’ll get some nourishment in you.”
With what little strength she had, she yanked the jerky out of his hand and muttered, “You have absolutely no idea what I’m used to.”
After two pieces of jerky and half a canteen of water, Cassidy looked slightly better. Gabe pulled a cell phone out of the backpack and turned it on. The battery was good, but no signal. He dropped it back in his pocket. His satellite phone had disappeared within an hour after his arrival in the camp.
“What daughter?” he probed.
Cassidy stared at him for a moment then sighed. Her eyes misted, closed again, but she spoke. “Her name’s Alexis.”
Gabe thought about all the pictures of Cassidy he used to see in the society pages of the newspaper. She was with a different man every week. “So who’s her father?”
“Jacob Foster.” Her eyes shot open and he found himself ensnared in her wild green gaze. Tears slid a silent pattern down cheeks flushed from the run. “He loved God with a passion I envied, he was one of the most wonderful men I’ve ever known.”
Jealousy snagged him again. “Was?” He didn’t want to know, but had to.
She nodded. “He was killed almost two months ago in a raid on his village. He was a missionary.”
Gabe flinched. “Ah, Cass, I’m sorry.”
She shuddered. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be hateful. I’m still working on the forgiveness issue when it comes to you and your silence about what happened to Micah.”
A twig snapped.
Gabe bolted. He grabbed his machete and cut a shallow path through the dense underbrush, pulling Cassidy behind him. Sweat beaded and slipped down his face. There was no time to try to cover the path completely.
Hide us, Lord. The prayer slipped through his mind unintentionally. He reminded himself he wasn’t speaking to God because God didn’t listen. Why talk to someone who didn’t care about listening to you? Gabe was working this mission alone. He trusted and depended on no one but himself. Somehow that thought didn’t offer the comfort he’d hoped it would.
A hollow tree trunk lay horizontal just off the path. About six feet in diameter and rotted on the inside, Gabe was willing to bet all kinds of creatures probably called it home. Right now, he would call it an answer to his prayer—if he thought God heard his prayers anymore.
He ignored the smell of must and decay and pulled Cassidy into the trunk, her small hand clutched in his. As he made his way in, he moved aside debris, hoping he didn’t dislodge anything poisonous. Scorpions, spiders and various other insects scuttled from under the rotted bark, but when nothing jumped out at him, he leaned against the tree-trunk wall and drew Cassidy in behind him.
A shaft of light through a small crack in the top subtly illuminated the inside. A finger to his lips communicated the need for silence and her nod let him know she understood.
They were going to have to stay hidden and hope the men weren’t looking very carefully, because if they were, their snug little hiding place would most likely become their grave.
Cassidy shivered and moved deeper into the trunk. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to control her panicked breathing. Thank You, God, for sending Gabe—I’m grateful for his help even if he won’t tell me how Micah died. Her brother had been reported dead on a secret mission that Gabe led. His body was never recovered. Cassidy had written Gabe begging him to tell her what happened so that she could have closure, but he’d refused. She was grateful for his help, but she still resented his silence.
He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a slight squeeze before moving toward the opening to keep watch. Her heart still raced from their dash through the jungle and she shifted, trying to put a little more distance between them.
“Be still,” Gabe turned his head and whispered into her ear.
She froze. He still had that effect on her stomach. She’d worked hard to get over her teenage crush on him, but apparently she hadn’t worked hard enough.
“Don’t even breathe,” he whispered.
Prayers trembled silently on her lips. Footsteps crunched closer. She bit her lip and his right hand brought up the gun to point it toward the sound.
Someone grunted a question in Portuguese, but Cassidy, who spoke the language fluently, couldn’t quite make out the words. However, the answer left her shaking even harder than before. “Kill them immediately. The ransom is not important. I do not want to have to report this failure.”
The footsteps faded. They hadn’t noticed the trampled underbrush and the cut vines. Yet.
Oh, thank You, Lord. Thank You for the protection. Sweet relief flowed through her, leaving her feeling weak and a little nauseated. When I am afraid, I will trust in You.
Gabe’s arms slowly relaxed; the rest of his body soon followed. He stuck the gun into the back of his jeans and leaned his head against the wooden trunk.
Cassidy didn’t bother to move. “Are they gone?” She whispered the words as quietly as possible.
He whispered back, “I think so. Hopefully they’re closing their circle. But soon they’ll realize we managed to slip through and will start looking outside that circle. We have to be gone and on a