by Rula Sinara
“Oh, gosh, no. I am so genuinely happy for you. I’m still grossed out by the details, but truly happy for you. I have no regrets. Well...maybe just one,” she said, sparing a quick glance at the clinic. “But it’s not important in the grand scheme of things.”
Lexi took a deep breath. She’d been right about Jacey having feelings for Taj, though she’d underestimated the issues between them.
It all came together. The way Jacey would blush one minute around him and fall on petty arguments to distance herself from him the next. The way she’d overreact about what a burden and pain kids were, every time Taj mentioned that he wanted a huge family someday. Yet she’d seen how wonderful and patient Jacey was whenever they were treating crowds of children. Was this part of the reason why she’d agreed to work here?
Lexi sighed and watched the light gray cloud pass beyond a canopy of acacia trees and out of sight.
“Jacey. I don’t want to butt my head in your business and I know you’ll order me to shut up if you want me to, and that’s fine. But just talk to him. Tell him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Don’t think I haven’t seen how you two look at each other. I knew something was happening between you.”
Jacey avoided eye contact.
“Taj isn’t attracted to me like that. Tough ex-army girl isn’t his style. He wants someone feminine and delicate who’ll give him a million kids.”
“First, that hyperbole just made my cervix ache. Second, he totally looks at you like he’s lovesick. Third, you’re gorgeous and the best kind of feminine—strong and caring all at once. And last, he thinks you don’t really like him, yet he still cares and worries about you. You should let him know how you feel. Tell him the truth and let him decide. You can’t make that call for him any more than you’d want someone else making it for you.”
“Lexi. I understand you’re trying to help, but I won’t do that to him. I can’t and won’t put him on the spot. Even if he said it didn’t matter that I can’t have kids, I’d know it did to him. I’m not going to start a relationship that’s bound to be filled with regrets. Don’t you dare say anything to him.”
“I won’t. It’s not my place. I just wish you would. No relationship has guarantees. I’ve experienced that firsthand. And after all I’ve been through, I have to admit that sometimes taking risks is worth it.”
She gave Jacey another hug, then climbed awkwardly into the driver’s seat.
“Be careful. Radio me when you arrive and before you head back so I know if I need to send a posse out,” Jacey said.
“It’s not that far, but okay.”
The sound of an engine nearing had them both shading their eyes and gazing toward the plume of dust billowing down the road.
“Just in the nick of time,” Jacey said, exhaling in relief. “He’s not going to be happy when he sees that you were about to drive off.”
They stood waiting as the guys approached the far edge of the clinic grounds. They parked and both men got out and began lifting a large bin out of the back of the van. The sight of Chad working like he had the strength of ten men sent Lexi’s heart into a skydiving free fall.
“Why is it that men in labor is so much more attractive than women in labor?” she half whispered.
Jacey sighed her appreciation. “So long as we’re talking about two different types of labor, I totally agree. Until they say something stupid, like we women can’t protect ourselves.”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s kind of nice to hear that someone cares enough to worry and help, even if we can take care of ourselves,” Lexi said, realizing that there was a time she’d never have admitted to that.
Chad glanced up and narrowed his eyes at her.
“Uh-oh. I think he noticed you were heading out alone. He seems ready to throw you over his shoulder like a Viking warrior and plop you down in a hut for safe keeping.”
Lexi’s face heated. “Where do you come up with that stuff?”
“Books. What do you think I do in my downtime?”
“Well, he knows he can’t tell me what to do.”
Chad tugged his belt loop up and started over.
“Uh-huh. Then I guess it’s that invisible cosmic thread between you that’s drawing him over here right now.”
“God, don’t say that. There’s nothing but friendship between us. He was Tony’s best friend. It’s an entirely different situation than what’s going on between you and Taj.”
“Right. Even a blind man could sense the energy between you two. I think Nurse Lexi should practice what she preaches and take a risk.” Jacey smiled at Chad as he approached. “Miss us?”
Lexi jabbed her with her elbow.
“Jacey, don’t you have a patient to check on?” Lexi grabbed the crutches and shoved them into Jacey’s hands.
Jacey chuckled, took them and hobbled away.
Chad scrunched his forehead.
“Where do you think you’re headed?” he asked.
“To the Mingati Homestead.”
“Alone? You’re killing me.”
“Lighten up. You guys were late. There’s a sick child and I needed to leave so I could get back before dark. Besides, I know what I’m doing. I told Jacey to ask one of you to follow me to the village as soon as you got here.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Taj and gave him a signal.
“Don’t go anywhere. Give me a minute. I’m coming with you.”
Lexi crossed her arms and leaned back against the jeep.
“Hurry it up, then,” she said, acting just slightly annoyed. But the fact of the matter was, she was glad he was coming. She wanted his company, so why not enjoy it?
* * *
CHAD STOOD OUTSIDE the inkajijik as Lexi treated the little boy. His crying and whimpering were getting to Chad, not because of irritation, but because it hit him. Raising a child was petrifying...and he’d faced some darned scary situations before. What if this kid didn’t make it? How would his parents cope? What if something happened to Tony’s kid, too? How would Lexi handle that on her own?
He scrubbed the back of his neck. He needed to stop thinking like that. He was getting too involved. All he’d ever intended was to make sure she was okay. That was it. But somehow that had turned into a daily ritual. It was dragging him into the future. He needed to let it go. This was her life, not his. Coming here had helped him heal, but leaving was the only way he’d reach his potential again.
He scanned the circular boundaries of the enkang. Anxious children were being ushered out of the individual inkajijiks, clinging to the vibrant wraps their mothers wore. One toddler grabbed the beads that adorned his mother’s neck and tried gnawing at them. Those kids seemed to know they were getting shots. Amazing how kids everywhere were the same.
There weren’t many men around, only the elderly laibon sitting beneath a copse of trees just outside the homestead’s protective fence. The old medicine man was handing a woman a cluster of herbs and presumably telling her how to use them.
Traditional versus modern medicine. He believed in both. He had grown up around enough family members who knew both the old traditional ways and the new ones. They each had their benefits. Maybe that’s what he’d been missing in his care. Balance. Maybe that’s why he’d been feeling better and recovering faster ever since he’d agreed to guard the clinic...because out here he was one with the sunshine, wind and earth.
There was a distant rumble and a cloud passed over the sun. He squinted toward the west and noticed the laibon had, as well. Thunder. He knew most of the men were either in warrior training or off in the fields grazing their herds of goats and cattle. They would be thrilled that the rains would finally turn the golden grasses into shades of bold malachite and jade. He, however, needed to get Lexi back home before the sky broke loose. Droughts had a way o
f ending with a bang.
Another rumble shook the air. Lexi hadn’t even started the vaccinations yet.
He headed for their jeep and started laying out what she needed for the vaccinations, then grabbed the water container she used for washing when gloves weren’t enough. He needed to do whatever he could to help speed things up. He started to walk back to the entrance of the enkang and almost stopped. Almost. He knew enough not to draw attention. He slowed just enough to get a good look.
Every cell in him went on alert.
A single footprint.
Not the stamp of bare feet or the flat soles of the sandals many Masai wore, which were made from tire rubber. This was the partially eroded print of a sneaker. It wasn’t fresh. But not that old, either. A day or two at most. Hiking or military ration, but all that mattered was that it wasn’t Masai, and there weren’t enough prints for it have been left by a KWS team member. And as far as he knew, the KWS hadn’t been out this way in the past week. The flyby he’d requested had been for the clinic area. Besides, boot and sneaker prints weren’t the same. He picked up his pace and reached the hut Lexi and the sick boy were in just as more thunder rumbled.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes,” she called out from inside the mud and thatched hut. “Almost under control here. We still need to get the vaccines done, though.”
That footprint isn’t right. You have to warn her.
He didn’t want to say anything within earshot of anyone. He didn’t want to raise an alarm or to clue whoever was hiding out here that he was on to them.
A ribbon of dark clouds lined the horizon.
“We don’t have a lot of time, Lexi.”
“I put patients before time. That poor child. He’ll be okay, but he’s lost a lot of weight,” she said, stepping out of the hut. She took off her sterile gloves, disposed of them in a biohazard safety bin she’d brought and held her hands out. Chad grabbed their jug of water and poured a gentle stream as she washed up and then used alcohol to further clean her hands.
A girl who looked to be in her teens hovered next to her. Too close for Chad to say anything.
“I want to be a nurse, too, someday,” she said.
“That’s a wonderful goal. If you ever want to talk about it, let me know. Why don’t you come watch us give the shots, since you already had yours?” Lexi smiled warmly and dried her hands.
“Thank you. I will. I am going to go to a different school soon to study science. I have been going to Miss Pippa’s school since I was younger, and she always told me I can be anything I want to be.”
Pippa was passionate about teaching children from the rural homesteads to read—kids who typically didn’t have access to education. She used to travel long distances to teach, and had been particularly concerned with young girls in the Masai tribes having the opportunity to pursue careers rather than get married at a young age.
Pippa’d made a name for herself and now had a small, rural school built in an area where children from multiple tribes could gather to learn. She still drove out to some villages, though, and, from what the girls themselves had relayed at the party, her step daughters often helped her.
His mom had told him that Pippa’s husband was a wonderful man, and that he’d helped stop a fracking project and illegal dumping that had contaminated well water in the region and caused many children to get sick. Chad bit at his cheek. He’d missed a lot while in service and during his recovery. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be home again. To just be.
He kept his eyes peeled at every shadow and movement around and between the domed huts. The feel of his gun pressing against his left calf was only slightly reassuring. It wasn’t the most efficient place to keep it, considering reaction time, but it was the only place he could carry it without anyone noticing. He didn’t want to use it—not with all the children around—but if there was a poacher hiding out here—
“Chad, are you not listening?” Lexi asked.
“Sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked if you could pass me those alcohol wipes.” She settled onto a stool and began sweet-talking the first child, a toddler that squirmed so effectively he nearly fell out of his mother’s arms.
Chad set the box of wipes within reach, along with disposable syringes and vaccine vials. He did a quick count. Only ten kids this time. Okay. Maybe that wouldn’t take too long.
“We’ll want to load things in the jeep before it rains.”
“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Lexi said. She finished poking a needle in the third child and disposed of it in a red, sharps container. A single drop of rain hit his arm. At least he was pretty sure it was rain. Chad shifted his weight and cleared his throat.
“I felt a drop. Just sayin’.”
“Don’t worry. A light drizzle won’t be a problem.”
Kid number six. She was efficient. He had to give her that. She had this down to an art form.
“Those clouds mean business. I assure you, this won’t be a drizzle. A major storm is about to hit.”
And possibly one that wasn’t about the weather. But he’d seen no other signs of the poacher since he’d spotted the print.
“All done.” Lexi, holding the edge of the small folding table they’d brought, tried to stand but immediately plopped back onto the stool.
Chad took her hand and helped her the second time. He didn’t let go until he was sure she had her balance. “You okay?”
“I’m totally fine. Just a pinch in my lower back when I tried to get up. I was sitting funny, I guess. Being front-loaded kind of puts a strain on your spine.”
“Take it easy. I’ll get this stuff.”
She ignored him and began closing the containers and putting them in a lidded box. Chad braced the table on his hip so he could fold the legs, but Lexi’s teen observer was at his side helping in a flash.
“When will the baby come?” she asked Lexi.
“Oh, not for at least another week or two. I’m almost thirty-eight weeks,” Lexi said.
“Children are a gift. I’m happy for you. Thank you again for letting me watch.”
“Of course. Thank you. Keep studying. Maybe someday we’ll work side by side.” That earned Lexi a huge grin.
Chad lifted the table under his left arm. He wanted to carry the box, too but couldn’t. If he took two trips to the jeep, which was outside the fenced area, he’d have to leave Lexi here. He didn’t want her to be alone out at the jeep, either. God, he hated asking for help. Lexi started to pick the box up.
“Don’t lift that.”
“It’s not heavy at all.”
“You just said your back hurt. Would you mind helping us take this to our vehicle?” he asked the girl.
“Of course not.”
Another drop of rain hit him, this time on the cheek. They loaded up and he secured the jeep’s top. He thanked the girl and waved goodbye.
He needed to get Lexi back home ASAP. Home. Since when was the clinic home? He brushed away the thought. Her home maybe. Not his. He’d meant her home.
The marine in him wanted to stay and investigate the print, but a deep rumble of thunder had him stepping on the gas.
The usual symphony of wildlife quieted as a shadow fell across the relentless Serengeti sun. Even the animals knew to take cover. He sped up, conscious of every rut in the road because of Lexi.
She hadn’t argued about him driving. Usually she insisted on being behind the wheel on account of getting more nauseous if she wasn’t. He glanced over. She was gripping the edge of her seat.
“Sorry. I just want to make good time. Lex, I saw something back there. A footprint. Something isn’t right.”
“Is that why you were acting so strange?” she asked, raising her voice over the engine noise. She winced.
Was his driving that scary? Driving an automat
ic with one hand wasn’t a big deal, at least not to him...anymore.
“If you call keeping an eye out for danger strange, then yes. I didn’t want to say anything in front of everyone. Someone there could be working with a group of poachers. I’ll report what I noticed as soon as we get to the clinic.” What if there really was a criminal back there? What if he’d been hiding in one of the huts, waiting for Lexi and Chad to leave?
He stepped on the gas.
For a moment he was back in Afghanistan. The attack. The blood. The deafening sound of explosives.
With a loud snap, a lightning bolt cracked the sky. He jolted to the present and swerved around a granite rock lying in the middle of the dirt road. Rain began pelting the windshield, picking up tempo by the second. He had no choice but to slow his speed. He couldn’t see five feet in front of him.
“Chad!”
“Don’t worry. I’ve driven through worse.”
“I’m wet!”
“Shut your window!” He looked over. It was already shut.
“No. I’m wet. I think my water just broke. Ohhh...oh, oh, oooooh.” Her face contorted and she panted then released her breath. “Are you freaking kidding me? If that was a contraction and that’s just the beginning of the pain, I’m not doing this!”
Chad felt all his blood get sucked down to his feet like a riptide in action. This wasn’t happening. Danger he could do. Pulling a gun on the enemy? All in a day’s work. Lexi going into labor in the middle of nowhere in torrential rains? At least six curse words poured out of him.
“Have you been in labor this whole time? Why didn’t you speak up?” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Just...just don’t let yourself have another contraction yet. Hold it in or something. We’re at least thirty minutes from the clinic.” The tire hit a rut in the road filled with water and mud splattered the windshield. He ran the wipers and slowed even more.