Love Takes Root
Written by Natasha Brown
www.natashasbrown.com
Amazon Author Page
Dedication
An amazing amount of research went into creating this novel. Through that research, I discovered many real issues that plague towns and villages throughout the world. This book is dedicated to the people who work tirelessly for others, improving the lives of the unfortunate, creating solutions and solving problems in developing countries. And to people who know the value of love.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank my friends, Stacy Eaton, Amy Manemann and Melissa Foster for urging me to step out of my comfort zone to write Love Takes Root. It was an enriching experience which I thoroughly enjoyed. Thanks for believing in me!
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Chapter 3.
Chapter 4.
Chapter 5.
Chapter 6.
Chapter 7.
Chapter 8.
Chapter 9.
Chapter 10.
Chapter 1.
Voices echoed off the concrete floor and vaulted metal ceilings. Kara Mason couldn’t understand anything anyone was saying—she didn’t speak Spanish, at least not much. With her travel backpack secured across her shoulders, she gripped the straps while she searched for baggage claim. It couldn’t be far, considering it was such a small airport.
This was nothing like the last time she’d flown, nearly a decade ago. Memories from a time she hadn’t been alone took her off guard. Her trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles to visit a plant biology conference had been a surprise high school graduation present from her father. He’d walked her through the airport and carried her bags. She pinched her lips together and cleared her throat. This wasn’t the time to be visited by ghosts.
Fellow passengers breezed past and Kara followed them. They arrived in an open room surrounded by windows where she spotted the baggage carousel. She searched for the familiar gray hardtop suitcase. Although her clothing and personal items were in her backpack, she couldn’t afford to lose her suitcase. She’d taken great care choosing what to bring and had researched the best items to travel with in Honduras, although she hadn’t found a lot of resources. There were, however, plenty of travel advisories regarding one of the most violent countries in the world. Those had led her to leave her jewelry and purse at home. Instead, a travel belt held her passport, ID and cash.
Strands of her wavy, shoulder-length brown hair fell forward when she grabbed the handle of her suitcase. It took all her strength to lug it over the edge of the carousel. When it hit the ground, it clattered. A few looks were cast her way, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to know just how frightened she was traveling all by herself in a foreign country.
With her heart thundering in her chest, she dragged her heavy luggage to the exit. The doors parted, and she walked into a humid wall of air. A heavy first breath filled her lungs. She attempted to ignore the activity of other travelers along the sidewalk so she could sit on the edge of her suitcase to read her instructions once more. She produced a folded piece of paper from her pocket. It was worn from the number of times she’d read and reread it.
Hi Kara,
I know this is your first time out in the field, but it’s your brainchild. You really should be the one who chooses the community we start with. I’m so glad you agreed to go.
Dave Billings with Hydration Foundation tells me that they’ve arranged a driver to pick you up at the airport. The driver will take you out to the first village, where you’ll meet up with your contact, Miles Sharp. From there, Miles will take you to a community they have a relationship with through their clean water outreach. If you think this location fits your criteria, then you’ll have to convince the ranchers and villagers to try your bamboo solution and get them to commit to it. We don’t have money available for an untested program, so I hope it works out. If in six months we get positive results, then I should be able to get our big-name donor nailed down for their $500k check so we can make this a global operation.
You may not feel like it, but you’re one of our most valued pioneers at United Rainforest Fund. I look forward to hearing about how it goes. Have a safe trip.
All the best,
Jim Alvarez
President, United Rainforest Fund
Kara folded it the same way she had many times before and slipped it into her back pocket. After sitting in the heat and humidity of the day for a few minutes, she’d already begun to sweat. The travel belt hidden underneath her organic white cotton tee was soaked.
“Señorita, usted necesita un taxi?” a man called to her from beside a car pulled up at the curb.
She swallowed the fear that had settled in her throat and shook her head. The man kept looking at her and continued to speak in Spanish. Kara stood up, grabbed the handle of her bag and scanned the cars parked in the road and the ones passing by. Where was her driver?
She spotted a man holding a piece of paper with her name on it and was flooded with relief. He wore a dirty striped button-up shirt with a pair of cargo shorts. His dark hair was spiky and mussed in a way that made her question whether it was by design or by accident. Reflective navigator glasses were perched on his nose, and his lips turned down when she took her first step toward him.
“Hola!” she said with a shaky voice and waved her free hand, the suitcase clacking its wheels on the sidewalk behind her. She noticed the lower half of the driver’s blue SUV was covered with mud when she stopped beside it. “I guess you’re my ride. I’m Kara Mason.”
She stepped, half tripped off the curb with her bag and heard it bang onto the street. Kara waited at the back of the vehicle for him to pop the trunk. A drip of sweat soaked into the waistband of her khaki shorts. She grew impatient while he just stood on the driver’s side with his door open, staring at her. What was his malfunction? She wanted to get out of there before she got mugged or worse—she’d read way too many horror stories.
He leaned inside the vehicle and a moment later, the hatchback raised an inch. She lifted it all the way only to find the back storage compartment entirely filled with tools, rope and bottled water. Kara lifted an eyebrow as she took in the massive amount of what she’d call junk in the back. When she glanced over at the driver, he was moving forward, ready to take her bag from her.
Violent images from her research on the Internet that she couldn’t erase flashed through her mind, and her chest tightened. She didn’t know this man, this stranger. She stepped back, feeling a rush of anxiety. “I’ll do it.”
He stopped walking toward her and his lips twisted into a frown. He lifted his hands and backed away. Without his assistance, she was able to half lift, half drag the bag sideways into the back. A grunt or two escaped her lips as she lifted what felt like a ton of barbells. Once it was in place, she could tell she wouldn’t be able to close the hatchback. There was too much stuff under her luggage, so she shoved whatever she could to the side, which allowed her bag to get pushed back far enough to latch the door. She checked her waist to make sure her valuables were still attached to her, touched the straps of her backpack and glowered at her watchful observer as she ducked around to the back passenger door and let herself in.
Before buckling up, she locked the door and slid out of her backpack, setting it beside her on the seat. The interior of the car was even hotter than the warm weather outside. She was tempted to open her window for fresh air, but was afraid to, since the travel sites had warned of people snatching belongings
out of open car windows. She took another hot lungful of air and hoped the vehicle had air conditioning.
The driver slid into his seat, shut his door and turned the key in the ignition. The vehicle shuddered and roared to life, then drove away from the San Pedro Sula Airport. She assumed her driver knew where to go, because she was ignorant when it came to her destination. Putting her life in a stranger’s hands hadn’t been an easy decision to make. Especially for her. She liked staying in the safety of her own house—she even did all of her research and work from home. Every two weeks, she drove to United Rainforest Fund’s headquarters to report to Jim, and that’s how she liked it. The only problem (if you could call it a problem) was that Kara had researched long enough she’d designed a program which solved serious issues that villages in developing countries face throughout the world. Once her article had been published in Scientific Earth magazine, all eyes were on her and her cutting-edge concept. She was expected to get the program off the ground. But the truth was, it was up to her to prove the validity of her claim. Some would have been elated by the opportunity, but Kara had been dreading this trip for months.
“Sir, do you know where you’re going? I need to meet Miles Sharp—you know what I’m talking about?” Then she muttered to herself, “God, I hope you’re not about to abandon me on the side of the road without my stuff.”
In the rearview mirror, she saw the gleam of the driver’s reflective glasses. She couldn’t tell whether he was looking at her or even listening.
“Sí.” No matter how deep and buttery his voice was, it couldn’t calm her now.
What had she gotten herself into? Quick breaths rattled away. The car pulled up to a light and stopped. They were in the middle of the busy city of San Pedro Sula. Sure, there were beautiful old buildings, but Kara wasn’t focused on them, just the people passing by on foot. Outside a fast food restaurant stood armed guards, which nearly sent her over the edge. She pinched her eyes shut. Just breathe. Calm down, you’re safe. Just breathe.
She took a slow, deep breath and focused on relaxing her body, starting with her fingers and toes, moving to her core until she could tell she was past the worst of it. The car was moving again, but she didn’t open her eyes until over twenty minutes had passed. The scenery out her window had changed. They weren’t in the middle of the noisy city, but moving past the occasional building and greenery.
“Estás bien?”
Miles Sharp observed Kara in the rearview mirror from beneath his dark sunglasses. Her green eyes were framed by her hair, which clung to her sweaty cheeks and brow. Her lips plumped into a miserable grimace. He couldn’t imagine anyone more ill-suited for travel than her. Who goes to Honduras with such a massive suitcase when they’re visiting rural villages? There’s no Marriott around here, sweetheart.
A small part of him felt guilty for not telling her who he was—that he was an English-speaking US citizen—but he was annoyed with how she’d treated him. She’d actually shooed him away from her like he was contaminated. Plus, there was the assumption that he was just some taxi driver. Sure, maybe his nicest clothing had gotten muddied on the way here. He picked at dried dirt on the cuff of his shirt. He couldn’t help that the nozzle on a village’s well had gotten clogged. The villagers’ welfare was high on his priority list—that was why she was here, after all. Looking after their water systems was more than just a job to him. His calling was helping underprivileged people from developing countries get a leg up in a fast-moving world. When he’d met Rachel and Dave at Hydration Foundation, he’d found his kind of people—the type that put up with him.
“Why am I here?” Kara muttered from the backseat to no one but herself. “I could have told Jim no—find someone else to run my program.”
She rubbed the plastered hair away from her temple and looked like she wanted to cry. Miles watched her movements in safety from behind his glasses. He’d just been wondering the same thing—why had she come if she didn’t want to be there?
“You know why,” she mumbled, seeming to answer his question. “You care about the world and the environment. Being around people is just the price you have to pay to make a difference… Oh great, now your driver thinks you’re crazy. Just shut up, Kara. Stop talking to yourself.”
She dropped her chin to her chest with a groan. Miles frowned, then returned his gaze to the road. He hated dealing with people who couldn’t or wouldn’t help his cause. It had only been a few minutes ago that she’d looked like she was going to lose her mind after he’d pulled up beside the guards holding rifles. The first time he’d seen what the people here lived with day in, day out was the moment he’d known he couldn’t turn his back on them. That was why he needed her here. If her article was true, she could be the key to the villagers’ survival.
Miles was so absorbed with his internal conversation, he almost drove past their turnoff. They’d traveled far beyond the city and were now in a rural area. Green fronds hung around the muddy one-car road. It wasn’t marked, he simply knew it by heart. The sun hung low in the sky, so he was glad to get off the main thoroughfare to avoid the banditos that trolled the larger roads and cities when it grew dark.
There were no hotels where they were going, but there were generous people, willing to share the floor of their home with visitors. Miles wasn’t unprepared; he’d arranged for them to stay at the village, Quebrada de Aqua. However, at the time he’d expected a more experienced traveler. She didn’t look prepared to sleep on a dirt floor.
After another hour of driving, he entertained himself by studying the contours of her face in the rearview mirror. Kara sat in silence, rocking around in the backseat, staring out her window, apparently absorbed in her own thoughts and oblivious to him. Distracted himself, he nearly missed a sharp turn and heard the sound of his backpack tumbling onto the floor space behind his seat. Papers shuffled around behind him, and through the rearview mirror, he saw Kara reading one. Her eyes scanned over it, and she gasped. “Miles Sharp with Hydration Foundation…what?”
He slowed way down on the narrow, bumpy road and couldn’t help but wince in response. The mountainside blocked the sun. He knew it was time to come out from behind his shades. His fingers pinched the bridge of the frames to slide them off.
“At your service,” he answered and looked over his shoulder.
Chapter 2.
“What? I don’t understand—I thought you were just the driver.”
Every swear word she could think of echoed through her brain as she stared at the innocent expression on his face. She didn’t care if he was the visual embodiment of her perfect man. His sun kissed skin, dark hair and hazel eyes were all the flavors she liked. But only from afar. She’d adjusted to being alone, and she didn’t want to go through the pain of loss ever again.
She was beginning to wish she’d never come. It had been beyond hard to walk out of her house and take a plane to a foreign country. It was agonizing swallowing her fears, going to one of the most violent cities and countries in the world. She’d placed herself in the hands of her boss, Jim, to make sure he’d make the proper plans for the trip. He, in turn, had placed trust in Miles with HTC. She’d nearly had a panic attack in the backseat of the car and had babbled to herself like a lunatic to calm down. All of it in front of someone who knew perfect English. The cherry on top of an all-around rough day. She had a feeling it was about to get even worse.
Miles’s eyes crinkled as he talked. “I’m sorry. You were the one who assumed I was just a driver. I simply didn’t correct you.”
“You only spoke Spanish, though—I didn’t think you knew English,” Kara said, frowning out the window.
He answered back with a little too much enjoyment, “Again, another assumption.”
“One you didn’t correct.”
They hit a particularly large pothole and Kara lurched forward, her seatbelt holding her in place. The car groaned, then revved out of the dip. She clung to the seat in front of her while her heart pounded in her ears.
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered.
A snicker came from the front seat. “I’m your guide, not your babysitter. I’m having a hard time believing you’re the person who wrote Bamboo: The Solution for All. You sure you didn’t hire a ghostwriter?”
That was it. Her lid had been officially flipped. If only she could find the words to speak, she’d figure out a witty comeback. Before that could happen, they hit another pothole, and this time they came to a full stop.
“Damn!” Miles dropped his head to the steering wheel and swore. “If I hadn’t been distracted, I wouldn’t have hit it dead on.”
Stunned at his reaction, Kara laughed under her breath. “You’re kidding, right?”
Silence answered her question. She waited for him to show some sign that he knew how to handle the situation. When he got out, she expected him to go to the back of the vehicle in search of a spare, but instead, he reached around his seat to unlock the door behind the driver’s side.
He leaned inside to pick up his own backpack and emptied out clothes, tossing them onto the backseat beside her. He met her eyes in the twilight. “Time to get out. Unless you want to stay and wait for the people who comb the roads at night for treasures.”
She couldn’t tell if he was teasing or serious. “Wait, what? You don’t have a spare?”
He shrugged and answered, “No—I took it out to make room for the tools I needed for the job. That was more important at the time. It’s at the village we’re headed to, though. We should be back on track tomorrow.”
She couldn’t believe they were stranded in the wilderness. If she were home right now, she’d be curled up on her couch reading a good resource book. Nice and safe. For the umpteenth time that day, her throat tightened and her stomach turned. “They should really fill in the potholes around here.”
Miles closed the car door and said with attitude, “It’s those potholes that are keeping out the logging trucks, so I’ll take the inconvenience of getting a flat.”
Love Takes Root: A contemporary romance novella Page 1