“What will we do without a doctor at the clinic?”
“Others fear treating us.”
“The new nurse can only do so much.”
“We are doomed.”
Raylyn’s back touched his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her middle. Breath rushed from her trembling frame.
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Will you let me take you home?” He feared her reply would be no, and he was surprised when she nodded.
He clutched her hand and led her to the curb where he hailed a cab. Moments later, they pulled into the apartment’s courtyard. Jack paid the necessary pesos and escorted Raylyn to her apartment. She entered, and all hope of talking about how he felt was lost.
Chapter Eighteen
Alfonzo’s recovery was slower than expected, and the people clamored for a replacement physician. Alfonzo gave in and asked an old friend, Juan Guerrero, to take over his duties until his return.
Raylyn arrived early, and stepped into the lonely quiet clinic. Windows open, a hot breeze floated through and removed the musty odor from days of being closed. She sat in the swivel chair behind the counter and impatiently waited to meet the new doctor.
The door opened. Raylyn moved around the counter, her breath caught. Juan Guerrero stood slightly taller than she at around five-eight, with long straight black hair that fell to his shoulders and dark cocoa colored eyes. The door slammed shut behind him. He shifted his gaze to the floor. Starting at her feet, he slowly perused every inch of her frame until heat flushed her cheeks.
He cocked a brow as he approached with his hand held forward. She allowed him to clasp her trembling appendage, and he drew it to his lips. The kiss caused tingles to race up her arm.
He seemed to know he’d affected her, because he lifted his eyes and a hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “If you are the welcome committee, then I know I’ve landed in heaven.”
Raylyn swallowed and clasped her hands before her. Clearing her throat, she said, “The patients will arrive soon. I need to show you where everything is, so if you will just follow me.”
“There is no need to be so formal, mi bella dama.”
Raylyn situated a stray hair behind her ear and tried to ignore his comment of beautiful lady. The hallway suddenly became too narrow, the air thick. Rushing, she said, “The patient rooms are here, and this room is your office. I’ll be up front, checking in patients.”
She turned to leave, but he reached out and squeezed her forearm. “There is no need to rush.”
“I’m not in a rush. I just want to be ready.”
“But of course, you do. Alfonzo told me what a hard worker you are.” He released her, leaned against the office’s doorframe, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“How do you know Alfonzo?” she asked, hoping to change the subject off herself.
“Oh, Alfonzo and I go way back. We graduated from college together.”
“Have you worked at the clinic before?” Please let him say yes, then she would be free from showing him more. She needed to get clear of him and review her weird feelings.
He shook his head and stood straighter; a frown creased his brow. “No. I’m afraid Alfonzo and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on certain things, and I’ve never practiced with him or for him.”
The tone in his voice worried her. She opened her mouth to ask for a further explanation but was distracted by the squeaky door. A family with three small children entered the lobby. Wadded tissues tumbled from the children’s hands, and the mother continuously wiped their runny noses.
Glad for the interruption, Raylyn excused herself and took her place behind the counter. The day flew by as patient after patient entered the clinic. Information about the new doctor had traveled fast and drawn in the curious.
By day’s end, Raylyn was exhausted. Before Juan could offer to escort her home, she slipped out the front door.
Jack waited casually, ankles crossed. He leaned against the trunk of a Panama rubbertree. She waved, and he rose and joined her.
“How was work?” he asked.
“Busy. And you?”
He shrugged. “The church rebuilding is going well. Lots of people have come out to help.” He paused before adding, “I heard there is a new doctor.”
“Yesssss.” She drew out the word and cast a furtive glance back at the stucco building.
He followed her gaze. “You don’t sound too thrilled.”
Ignoring the statement, she faced him. “I’m starving, what about you?”
“I’m always starving. Did you have something in mind?”
“What about the Chinese restaurant in the city center?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
She gnawed on her lip. Since the shooting, Alfonzo had warned them they should stay closer to home; venturing into the city center could pose a danger. Yet others had left the ghetto and journeyed to the market for supplies.
Raylyn secured her arm in his. “I’m sure if we stay together, everything will be all right.”
“So you trust me to protect you?” he asked, a smile tilting his lips.
“Most definitely.” She leaned against his side, glad to feel comfortable and not on edge, at least for the time being.
****
Jack suggested they stop at the apartment and change before traveling into the city. Dressed in clean navy trousers and a pale blue button-up shirt, he felt a hundred times better.
Raylyn exited her door, and his heart flipped in his chest. She had changed into a pair of black dress slacks and a deep purple turtle neck. Adjusting her glasses, she faced him.
“Ready?” she asked.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
“Good, because I’m starved.” She hooked their arms again and they strolled toward the restaurant. Raylyn said, “Politics in this region baffle me.”
Jack kept watch for trouble. “I read a lot about the situation before I arrived. In my opinion, it stems from suspicion and misunderstanding.”
“I think you’re right. I read it has something to do with all the different factions trying to preserve their way of life. It is sad so many innocents get caught in the middle.”
“Like Alfonzo?” he asked, fearing her answer. What if she said she had feelings for Alfonzo beside brotherly Christian love? What would he do? Would he run and hide? Would he give up on his missionary journey in Chiapas? Could he stay and watch her love another man? He knew the answer to the last question. No.
“Yes. His only crime was caring for people. That could have been any of us.” He felt increased pressure on his arm as she added, “Maybe it’s not fair for me to say this, but I’m glad you’re here.”
He gulped, and the pain in his chest decreased. “Me, too.”
They continued to the restaurant. The inside tables were taken, and they were forced to sit on the sidewalk. The small round table lit by moonlight was romantic, and Jack found himself staring past her rounded frames and into her green eyes.
Musicians walked the streets and offered to play. Jack reached for his wallet. If he could coerce them to play a slow tune, then perhaps they could dance again. His arms ached to hold her.
Raylyn sipped at her drink then placed her hands under her legs and rocked in her seat. “Wonder when the food will get here?”
Distracted by her childish pose, he forgot the musicians and laid his hand palm up on the table. She placed her hand in his, and he squeezed. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
Jack studied their clasped hands, imagining a ring on her fourth finger. Shiny white gold, with a marquis diamond, and perhaps a few emeralds surrounding it. The waiter came and dispelled his visions, and he released her.
They prayed. When the meal ended, Jack reluctantly escorted her back to her apartment, grateful for the uneventful evening.
“Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked, looking at her shuffling feet as if she feared his answer.
H
e stood at the threshold and debated. Of course he wanted to come in, but should he?
Through the dimness of the room, the tip of a cigarette glowed. Jack placed Raylyn behind him and stepped back. A shadow moved.
“You are home. I thought you would never arrive.” The man stubbed the cigarette out on Raylyn’s table.
Angrily, Raylyn moved from behind him, reached inside the room, and flipped on a light switch. “Juan? What are you doing here?”
Juan smirked, and Jack looked between the two. “You know him?” he asked, fighting the urge to kick out the stranger.
Raylyn crossed her arms over her chest. “Juan is the new doctor.”
“The new doctor,” Jack repeated with a breathy sigh. What was the guy doing inside Raylyn’s apartment?
“Yes. I am replacing Alfonzo.” Juan ignored their presence and paced the length of Raylyn’s apartment. “I had wished for better accommodations, but beggars can’t be choosers, eh? Just direct me to my bed, and I’ll see myself down for the night.”
Jack worked to control his rising blood pressure.
“What?” asked Raylyn, blinking rapidly.
“Did Alfonzo not tell you? I’m to reside in this apartment complex. And it seems, after speaking to the landlord, there are no extra rooms. Since you are the only one I know in the building, I assumed I would bunk with you.” An evil glint entered Juan’s eyes, and he rubbed his hands over Raylyn’s bed covers.
Jack settled his hands on top of Raylyn’s shoulders; she trembled beneath his touch. He opened his mouth to explain a few things to Juan, but Raylyn interrupted.
“Well you assumed wrong.”
Juan chuckled under his breath. “I see you are touchy on the subject. But there is no need for concern. I have stayed with many women.”
“I bet,” whispered Jack, fisting one hand at his side and leaving one on Raylyn’s shoulder for support.
“Excuse me, who might you be? Does mi bella dama belong to you?”
Jack released Raylyn and stepped forward. Raylyn moved in front of him.
She said, “I’m sure there has been some kind of misunderstanding. Alfonzo would never have suggested you stay here with me.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” asked Juan, blinking rapidly and pointing to his chest.
“No, no. I’m just saying perhaps he meant for you to stay with Manuel and—“
“He meant for me to stay here in the apartments, but I can see I’ve made a mistake about the exact room assignment.” Juan plucked a long trench coat thrown possessively over the couch back and exited the apartment.
Raylyn stared after his retreating form. Jack slammed the door and stalked to the kitchen area to brew a pot of coffee.
Chapter Nineteen
The next day, several injuries occurred at the church’s construction site. Jack thought about faking an injury on more than one occasion. It would be a good way to visit the clinic and check how Raylyn faired.
“How are you today, señor?” asked Manuel.
Jack replied, “I’m well. How is your brother?”
“He is improving.”
“Good.” Jack paused briefly, before adding, “Forgive me for saying so, but I find it hard to believe he is friends with Juan.”
“Ah, Juan. Then you have met the new doctor.” Jack nodded, and Manuel continued, “He is quite the ladies' man, yes?”
“I guess so.” Jack studied his lunch and tried not to tell what he thought Juan was.
Manuel laughed and slapped him on the back. “You should not worry. The nurse only has eyes for you.”
Jack’s heart soared. “If you say so.”
“Ah, I do. Trust me. Even my brother has tried his hand in her direction, but she has not bitten. It must be because she loves another, eh?”
Jack didn’t reply. Thoughts of being with Raylyn drove him to distraction. He needed to tell her how he felt. They needed to talk about their past and their future.
The workday ended, and he returned to the ghetto with Manuel, asking questions about romantic spots in the area.
“I presume you mean to take Raylyn on a trip?”
Jack shrugged, lost his footing, and stumbled on uneven pavers. A pain arced along his leg, and he wished for a bench to sit and massage the prosthesis site. Manuel kept moving, however, and Jack struggled to keep up.
“You should take her to Boca del Cielo in Santa Cruz. It is not far away, and you can borrow my truck.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Naw, for love, it is nothing to let you borrow my truck.”
Grateful for the offer, Jack smiled. A fresh wave of pain assaulted his leg and he gritted his teeth. Manuel cut through the hedges toward his home, and Jack forced a goodbye. He slowed his pace. Only a few blocks more and he would be home. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Don’t focus on the pain, Jack.
He hobbled into the apartment complex courtyard. No light showed through Raylyn’s curtains, meaning she’d yet to arrive home from work.
Taking a seat in the courtyard, he massaged his amputated leg. Should he go to the clinic? Since the incident with Juan being in her apartment, Raylyn hadn’t reported any abuse. Juan seemed to be keeping his distance. Hobbling upstairs, he made a decision. He showered and changed. The heat from the shower soothed his tired muscles and relieved his pain. He decided to rest later. Jacket over his shoulder, he headed to an Internet café in the city center to research a trip.
Taking Manuel’s suggestion, he plugged in the town of Santa Cruz. It boasted about pristine beaches and a lagoon, perfect for lovers and nature enthusiasts. The Boca del Cielo Inn and Seaside Resort looked like a nice place to stay, and he booked two rooms before shutting off the computer and heading back home.
Now came the hard part, convincing Raylyn to join him.
He found her standing before the fountain with her chin lifted to the sky. Tears rolled along her cheeks and dropped off the edge of her face.
He increased his speed, ignoring the returning pain in his leg. He reached her side and placed a gentle hand on her forearm. “What’s wrong?”
She opened her eyes and stared at him, swiping away the tears. “Nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Well, it is. I was just going inside to warm up some tamales Manuel brought over. Would you like some?”
“Yes.” His stomach growled and punctuated the word.
She smiled, and her sadness seemed to dissipate. She warmed their meal and presented it to him. He held her hand and guided her to a seat.
“Tell me.”
“There is so much suffering.” Again the tears welled in her eyes and dribbled along her face.
“Surely you didn’t think coming to Chiapas would ease the pain.”
She shook her head.
“There will always be suffering as long as we live in a sinful world.”
“I know,” she said with choked emotion.
“But we have to look past that to what the Lord has in store for us.”
“Yes.” She studied her hands, and her hair fell in front of her face like a veil.
“I think I have something that might take your mind off your troubles.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” Be brave and just say it. “A trip.”
“A trip, but—“
“Just hear me out. Manuel suggested Boca del Cielo, and he even said we could borrow his truck.”
“But I don’t have money to—“
“Leave that to me. Will you come?”
She sniffed and wiped her tears; the corner of her mouth lifted. “Yes.”
****
Raylyn woke early, consumed a breakfast of fried tortillas and eggs, and packed. Jack had already left to garner Manuel’s truck.
A horrendous sound of backfiring ensued in the courtyard, and Raylyn rushed outside to find a rusty truck, smoke billowing from the exhaust as it sputtered in the circular drive.
The door wobbled on its hinges,
and Jack grimaced and held the window frame.
Raylyn covered her mouth to hide her bubbling laughter.
Carefully, he pushed the door shut then slapped his hands against his pant legs. “Your carriage awaits.” He bowed, and Raylyn fought a burst of giggling.
She cleared her throat. “I think a carriage would be in better shape.”
“Hmm,” he murmured as he hauled her bag into the bed of the truck.
She clasped her hands and waited for Jack to open the rickety passenger door. Inside the cab, the door closed behind her, and Raylyn shivered. Jack climbed behind the wheel and fiddled with the wobbly knobs.
“I don’t think it has heat,” he commented, a frown drawing his brows together in a thin line.
“Figures,” she whispered.
He sighed. “I’m sure the weather will improve.”
“Did you check the report?”
“No, but we’re headed to the beach, so it has to be warm. Right?”
She didn’t argue with his failed logic as he drove onto the narrow street and proceeded to the highway. The average weather for Chiapas in June hovered around seventy, but it had been known to escalate into the nineties. Right now, it felt more like fifty.
Parts on the truck vibrated, and Raylyn prayed they weren’t leaving hunks of the beast behind.
On the outskirts of the city, Raylyn attempted to study the landscape only to be distracted by Jack’s fumbling attempts to drive the contraption. He shifted, and the gears ground, making an ominous sound that had the hairs on her arm saluting. Red hue filled his face as he swore under his breath. The truck screamed as he lowered the gear, and they climbed a steep hill. They topped the rise, and the road leveled.
“Sorry,” he said, sending a furtive glance in her direction.
Wishing to offer privacy during his time of struggle, Raylyn turned away. As the scenery flashed by, she had the sudden urge to cry. The events in her life seemed overwhelming. The past felt like it was catching up with her. She shifted in her seat.
“Have you ever felt like you lost your touch? Like you used to be good at something but not anymore?”
Emerald Street Page 12