Pulling on his boots, he wondered if she’d slept well. No looking, he reminded himself as he glanced at the curtain. He quietly let himself out the kitchen door.
He walked down the hill toward the barn, intending to inspect the plane before Benny got up and around. A thorough examination revealed that, besides the holes in the fuel tanks, which he could have patched, the right wing had a long crack near the fuselage. Without the tools or materials to fix it, he felt like a surgeon diagnosing an inoperable tumor.
Getting Benny safely home in a reasonable amount of time was going to be a challenge. He didn’t have much cash, and the border was a long way off. Laying a hand on the cool steel belly of the aircraft, he spent a few minutes praying for wisdom.
Feeling immeasurably stronger, he went searching for old Gustavo and found him inside the barn, feeding the goat. The little billy gave Owen a disdainful bleat, then went back to his hay.
“Good morning, Gustavo.” Owen leaned over the top of the stall. “Thanks for your hospitality.”
“It’s nothing.” Gustavo propped his hands atop his pitchfork. “We don’t see many Americans out here, so you must excuse my rudeness yesterday. I thought you might be drug traffickers running from the law.”
Owen smiled at the irony of that remark. “Not a chance. Do you have any idea where we might get hold of a car?”
“Now that,” Gustavo said, “is a large problem. As I told the señorita last night, all I have is my truck, and my closest neighbor is twenty kilometers away. Unless—” he scratched his whiskery chin “—unless you want to ride my mule up to Poza Rica. My cousin Jorge runs a used-car lot and I’m sure he’d give you a good deal.”
Owen thought of several objections to that plan, not least of which was Benny’s desire to stay away from cities. Still, their choices were limited. “Couldn’t you drive Benny and me to Poza Rica? We’d be glad to pay you—”
But Gustavo was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t leave right now. Lajuana is due to drop her calf. She had trouble last time.”
Having grown up around horses, Owen understood the concept of protecting one’s livestock. Still, the prospect of riding a mule twenty miles struck him as a bit over the top. “But won’t you need your mule?”
“It is only mid-March.” Gustavo shrugged. “I won’t plow for another two weeks, at least. You could leave Sunflower with Jorge. I will drive up to get him later.”
“Okay, then, how about letting us borrow your truck? I’ll pay someone to drive it back to you. The plane’s good collateral, don’t you think?”
“I need my truck.” Gustavo picked up the pitchfork and went back to work, the subject obviously closed. “If you don’t want to take Sunflower, you can walk.”
Owen glanced over his shoulder at the busted-up plane, then at the swaybacked mule, contentedly munching oats in its stall a few feet away.
Oh, how the mighty are fallen.
Benny was scrambling eggs on Mariela’s ancient stove when Owen came in the back door, carrying a bucket of milk. He plunked it on the table and walked up behind her. “I was hoping somebody would have breakfast going. That smells good.”
She glanced over her shoulder. With golden-brown bristle covering his jaw and a sleepy droop at the corners of his eyes, he looked a little worse for wear. “Where have you been?”
“Negotiating a deal with Gustavo.” He reached over her shoulder and snitched a strip of bacon.
“What kind of deal?”
He leaned on the counter and licked grease off his fingers. “Let’s just say I didn’t get the better end of it. More specifically, my end may wind up whooped.”
Benny had to giggle. “That sounds ominous.”
“I’ll say. Old Gustavo wouldn’t part with his truck, so it looks like Sunflower and I will be taking a little field trip.”
“Sunflower? Who’s that?”
“Not who—it. Sunflower’s a mule, my transportation to Poza Rica. I’ll ride up there, buy a car from Gustavo’s cousin Jorge and come back to get you.”
Benny stared at him. He looked perfectly serious. “You’re not leaving me here.”
He cocked his head. “Benny, I shouldn’t be gone more than a day—two at the most. Mariela will take good care of—”
“No, I’ll go with you. That will save time.”
Owen’s blue-green eyes lost their sleepy look. “What are you afraid of? You know we lost the guy in the Land Rover. There’s no way he could catch up to us.”
“They’ll know we never made it to Laredo. Anybody can look up a flight plan.” Shivering, Benny turned off the stove and shoved the pan full of eggs off the burner.
“I didn’t have time to file a flight plan.” Owen took her by the shoulders when she would have turned away. “Bernadette, who’s after you? Is it more than just this one man?”
She stood stiff under his hands and looked at the strong brown column of his throat. “I’m not sure.”
“This is insane.” Frustration laced his voice. “How can I protect you—and myself, for that matter—if I don’t know what we’re running from?”
He was right. It wasn’t fair to keep Owen in the dark, but if she told him about Paul Grenville, Grenville would do his best to kill Owen, too. On the other hand, she refused to lie.
She made herself relax. “Okay, you’re right. It’s silly to worry like this. Go ahead and take the mule to Poza Rica.”
Several seconds ticked by. Benny felt Owen’s big, gentle hands tighten, the thumbs on her collarbones and palms cupping her shoulders. When she looked up at him his expression speared her to the heart.
“You’ll be gone when I get back, won’t you?” His lips pressed together as he let her go. “I can’t believe you have so little regard for me.”
Benny caught her balance against the table. “Owen, you don’t understand who these people are. I care for you too much to let you—”
“You care for me?” Owen uttered a harsh laugh, the kind she’d never imagined him capable of. “Then trust me with the truth.”
She put her hands to her face and closed her eyes. “Okay, listen. Here’s all I can tell you now. When I was very young, I had some bad experiences and they’ve come back to haunt me. I have to get to Memphis to see an old friend, find out what she knows.”
After another moment’s silence, Owen sighed. “Why not call her?”
“We’ve just been in touch by e-mail because I’m afraid my calls can be traced. I have to see her in person.”
“Memphis,” Owen muttered. “I thought we were going to Laredo.”
Benny lowered her hands. “Will you help me get back to the States? Without asking questions?”
He shook his head. “You are a crazy woman, you know that?”
“I know. Please, Owen?”
“Like I could ever say no to you.” It wasn’t a question.
After breakfast, Owen saddled Sunflower with Gustavo’s old-fashioned tack, then mounted the mule with the confidence of long practice. Getting Benny situated was a bit trickier.
At least he’d talked her into trading in her full, flowery skirt for his extra pair of jeans.
“Come on, Ben,” he’d teased, “you’ll have saddle sores on your saddle sores if you try to ride