“Good Lord, Heather.” Suddenly he went as stiff as she was. He propped himself up and took a handful of stretchy nylon material and pulled it away from her skin, looking incredulously at it. “You’re still wearing these things. What are you so afraid of?”
She tried to twist away, but he took a firmer hold on the nylon. He looked down into her face, his eyes stormy with the conflicting emotions of anger and amusement. Slowly he began to laugh. “Only you would live with this misery just to prove a point,” he muttered, shaking his head. “What will it take to make you give them up?”
She stared up at him, unable to speak. For a long moment she was sure he was going to rip them from her. But finally he let go, laughing softly. “All right, Heather, you win.” He drew back away from her, watching her with a lazy gaze. “I won’t force myself on you. I won’t force anything on you. You’ll have to decide for yourself what you really want.”
He rose, straightening his disheveled clothes and walking toward the door. Just before going out, he turned back. “I only hope you decide soon, Heather,” he said quietly. “Very soon.”
He slammed the door shut behind him, leaving her to stare into the dark corners of her lonely room, wondering why she was such a fool.
Chapter Eight
Danny Cabrillo arrived at ten o’clock sharp, just as he’d promised. He wore his best white shirt and black slacks and had an old, beat-up guitar slung over his shoulder.
Heather felt anxious when she first saw him, but when he smiled, lighting the day with his snapping black eyes just the way his little sister did, she felt a sense of relief. “How’s your mother?” she asked first. When he said she was doing pretty well, she asked about Lizzie.
“Lizzie’s okay,” he replied. “She’s mad that I wouldn’t bring her with me. The kids were teasing her again about her foot, and she wanted to run away and live with me here.”
Heather ran a tongue across her dry lips. Poor Lizzie. She knew how cruel children could be, often without really meaning any harm. But what worried her right now was that Danny assumed he would be living here in Ragonai village, just as Mele had predicted.
She took him into the empty dining room and told him to play something nice. For the next half hour, he played song after song. She sat listening, enchanted. His taste ran from rock and roll to classical melodies, and he performed each with practiced style.
“Where did you learn to play so well?” she asked after he finished a number with a Spanish flavor.
He smiled shyly. “I just copy from records or the radio,” he said. “I just play what I like.”
Heather shook her head. Imagine what this boy might do with formal musical training and a decent instrument. “Mele,” she called into the kitchen. “Come on out here. You’ve got to hear this.”
“I’ve been listening.” Mele emerged reluctantly, her beads clacking, but she couldn’t resist the boy’s smile any more than Heather could. “The kid’s good. I know that.”
“Well, what do you think? Can you hire him?”
Mele assumed a ferocious scowl. “You know I can’t use him in the bar. He’s too young for that anyway.”
Danny’s happy smile disappeared, and his face took on the tragic look of a boy watching his dream evaporate.
“But I tell you what,” she added gruffly. “You can play at Jake’s party tomorrow night. I’ll pay you for that, and all your friends and relatives will have a chance to hear you. How’s that?”
The smile returned, reminding Heather once again of Lizzie. “That would be great,” he said enthusiastically. “Maybe if I play real good, you’ll hire me to play in the bar, too.”
Mele threw Heather a scathing look that clearly said, “See what you’re getting me into?” But she obviously liked the boy. “Okay.” She grunted. “I’ll get you set up with a place to stay. Come on with me.”
Heather watched as they left. Danny was so good it was a crime he would have no chance to develop his talent here on Ragonai. To think a boy who had taught himself to play on a cheap used guitar could reach such a level of expertise. If only... She narrowed her eyes. If only there was some way to help him, some way to get him to where he could take real lessons from a master.
Then she remembered his little sister. Even more than Danny, Lizzie needed help. She was only five, and already the cruelty of the world was closing in on her.
Heather considered her interesting face. She ought to go out to Titano village and make some drawings of Lizzie. But how would that benefit the girl? The only thing that would really help her would be the operations that would correct the defect to her foot.
The tiny germ of an idea took root in Heather’s mind. Why not? Lizzie had only to go to the surgeon. All it would take was money.
Once again the urge to share her idea with Mitch sent her running across the road. Naturally, he was busy. “Is it important?” he asked, finding her at the door of his clinic. “I’m in the middle of an examination.”
“No.” She swallowed her disappointment and smiled. “It’ll keep.”
He leaned against the doorjamb as she started to turn away. “I’m going out to Titano village in about half an hour,” he said. “Want to ride along? I’ll take you to a beach that will fulfill your wildest fantasies.”
Suddenly she felt as light as a rainbow. “I’d love to,” she said happily.
“Wear a bathing suit,” he advised as he started to turn away. He looked back with a grin. “On second thought, don’t bother.”
It was silly that such a small thing could make her feel so good. She seemed to be dancing back across the road. She ran up to her room and rummaged in her suitcase for her bathing suit. While she was at it, she cast a quick glance at the litter basket in the corner of the room. On top of crumpled papers and discarded tissues were her last pair of panty hose.
She’d thrown them away that morning, determined to loosen up and be whatever Mitch wanted her to be. No more panty hose. No more missionary lady. She was going to bend with the trade winds. And so far Mitch hadn’t even noticed.
No matter. He would see evidence of her new leaf soon enough. She grinned to herself as she put on her electric blue two-piece swimsuit and pulled her yellow shift over it. After all, she only had the rest of the week with the man she loved. Why not make the most of it?
She’d come to that decision during a mostly sleepless night. Thinking things over, she’d realized what a fool she was being. She loved Mitch. She’d lost him. But now she had a chance to capture some of that joy again. So what if it cost her a bit of renewed heartache? He was worth it.
She thought of his gentle touch, his maddening kisses, his dark eyes, his soft laugh. She loved him more than life itself. She would pay the price, and gladly.
She wouldn’t stay with him. No, that would be asking too much of herself. She knew her love would deteriorate under the tenuous conditions of that sort of relationship. But for now, for this week, she would give him everything she could.
She slipped her feet into low sandals and ran back down to meet him at the Jeep. In a few minutes they were roaring out over the countryside, just as they had two days before.
It was hot again, but for some reason the heat didn’t bother her. It seemed a soft cushioning pillow rather than a harsh assault. It was almost as though it had become more benign once she’d stopped fighting it. Now she could relax and enjoy what the island had to offer.
“Look.” Mitch pointed out a marshy field through which lumbered a huge water buffalo carrying three children. Three little hands were waving wildly, and Heather leaned out of the Jeep to wave back.
“Don’t they ever get off?” she asked Mitch, laughing.
“I don’t know,” he answered over the engine’s roar. “I’m not sure I’d recognize them on foot.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “This is nice,” he said casually. “I like having you along.”
She wanted to reach out and touch him, to feather the back of his head with a soft massage, to kiss
his neck. But she was still a little shy for that. She just smiled back. “I like being along,” she replied.
The village spread across the side of the mountain like a multicolored lace shawl. As they drove slowly down the main street, past a dusty grocery with teenagers sitting in front and a shiny gas station, waiting to service the cars that accumulated more wax on their hoods than miles on their odometer, she turned to look at him again. “Are you stopping at Lizzie’s?” she asked. “I’d like to see her.”
He nodded. “My first stop, in fact.”
She wanted to tell him her idea, but she hesitated. Would he think it was just another fanciful whim?
“Mitch, if Lizzie saw a competent orthopedic surgeon, could her foot be corrected?”
He shrugged, looking at her curiously. “I couldn’t say for sure, but there would be a good chance. Why? Planning to invite one to visit?”
“No,” she answered slowly, “but what if I took Lizzie back with me?”
His face clouded. “What makes you so sure you’re going back?” he asked quietly.
She waved his question away. “Do you think someone in Flagstaff could help her?”
He nodded, pulling the Jeep to a stop beside the road. “Certainly. But how are you planning to get her there?”
She licked her lips. “I brought along enough cash to pay for a plane ticket for her. What if we collected more money at Jake’s party?”
She searched his face, trying to read his reaction. At the same time, she was so excited by her idea that she could hardly sit still.
“We could have cans around with her picture on them, just like they do for the March of Dimes kids, and place them strategically—one right in front of where Danny is playing his guitar. We could make an appeal to everyone to pitch in to help a little girl, one of their own.”
He frowned, moving restlessly. “That’s all very well, Heather. You might collect a tidy little sum.”
He wasn’t taking this as she’d hoped. Why wasn’t he a little more enthusiastic? After all, he was the one who always wanted to help others.
He was still talking, but she knew before he said the words that he was trying to discourage her. “You’ve got to understand, Heather, that operations of the kind you’re contemplating cost a lot more than you’ll ever collect on this island.”
“You think so?” She’d thought of that, too. “Then I’ll start a special charity drive for Lizzie once we get back to Flagstaff. I know a lot of wealthy people. Once they’ve met her...”
He looked annoyed. “How do you know it would be what she wants? You can’t just come in and take over this way, Heather. Just because you’re new doesn’t make you the expert on solving everyone’s problems.”
She sat back, stung. Why couldn’t he see that she only wanted to help?
He climbed down from the Jeep. “I’m going to check on her mother. Want to come with me?”
She shook her head, avoiding his eyes. She needed time to think. After he’d left, she sat staring at the tops of the swaying trees, wanting to get up and follow him but still too stubborn.
Why was she staying behind when she really wanted to be with him? This sort of behavior was going to ruin everything if she wasn’t careful.
She had a sudden memory of herself sitting just like this in the pine-paneled living room of their Flagstaff house, listening to his car driving away, holding back the tears as he left for the airport. Why hadn’t she stopped him? Why hadn’t she run after the car, driven out to the airport herself, and pulled him from the plane? Was half their problem her own stubbornness?
Filled with a new sense of purpose, she jumped down from the Jeep, but before she could rush up the walkway and burst into the house after the man she loved, she saw a small familiar figure coming toward her.
“Hi.” Lizzie was walking quickly and waving merrily.
“Hi, yourself,” Heather called back, smiling as the girl approached.
“How did Danny do?” Lizzie asked, almost shouting since she was still too far away for easy conversation. “Did he do okay?”
Heather grinned. “He did just great. Mele hired him to play at Jake’s party Thursday night.”
Lizzie reached the Jeep and came to a stop. “Not in the bar at the Coconut Club?” Disappointment swept across her face.
“Honey, Danny’s really too young to be playing in a bar.”
“Oh, well.” She shrugged her thin shoulders. “When they hear him play, they’ll all want him.”
Heather laughed, suppressing an urge to hug her. “You know, I think you may be right.”
“Dr. Carrington sent me to the store to check the mail,” she said, her black eyes shining. “Want to come with me?”
“Oh...” Heather glanced down at Lizzie’s foot. “Would you like me to give you a ride?”
Something hard came into Lizzie’s eyes. “No,” she said shortly. “I want to walk.”
“Then we’ll walk,” Heather answered with assumed gaiety.
They strode along silently for a moment, then Lizzie looked up. “Did you say that because of my foot?” she asked openly.
Heather hesitated, but looking into those clear eyes, she had to tell the truth. “Yes. I thought it might be easier for you.”
To her surprise, Lizzie grinned. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt or anything. I’m used to it.” She hopped over a rut in the road and Heather felt her heart twist. Why shouldn’t she try to help this child?
Lizzie was very brave, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could have her one defect corrected?
“You know what I would wish if a fairy godmother came and told me I had three wishes?” Lizzie asked as they stopped to pet a skinny dog that had wandered out to sniff at them. “First,” she went on, “I wish my mother was never sick again. Then I wish Danny was the biggest rock star in the world.”
Heather nodded, scratching the dog behind the ears and straightening to continue with Lizzie. “And your third wish?” she asked, though she thought she knew.
“I wish my foot was fixed,” she said firmly. “But there’s no such thing as a fairy godmother, is there?”
Heather swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in her throat, but before she could answer the child, a shout hailed them. “It’s Hector Gonzales,” Lizzie said, shading her eyes and staring at the boy who was running toward them on the road.
“Is the doctor at your house, Lizzie?” he called. “Get him quick. My mother’s having the baby.”
“Quick!” Lizzie grabbed Heather’s hand and they began to run. “The Gonzalez baby!” they both called as they rounded the corner and encountered Mitch heading for the Jeep.
He was with them in no time. “You go on home and stay with your mother, young lady,” he told Lizzie, giving her an affectionate swat on her bottom. “Heather, you come with me.”
“With you?” She had no intention of going anywhere else, but still she looked at him in surprise.
“Come on, we’ve got no time for chitchat.” He took her arm and hurried her along. “Delores Gonzalez has had four children already, and this one is bound to come fast.”
He maneuvered her across the road and led her toward a house painted flamingo pink. “Delores doesn’t believe in doctors much,” he explained. “She usually has mid-wives. But last time the placenta didn’t entirely evacuate, and she ended up hemorrhaging a week after the birth. We nearly lost her.”
He opened the screen door of the house. “This time we’re going to make sure everything gets done right.”
“We?” Suddenly Heather’s knees were wobbly. “You want me to help?”
“Sure.” He went in and she trailed behind him into the empty living room. “It’s only childbirth. Unless there are complications, the mother does all the work.”
“But... I don’t know the first thing about childbirth!” she wailed, truly frightened.
He turned toward her, put one hand on each side of her head, and kissed her hard on the mout
h. “Then it’s high time you learned,” he said crisply.
She wobbled, trying to recover, as he turned away and called out to the inhabitants. She watched him, noting the excitement that was coursing through him. He loved what he was doing.
The boy who had called to them on the street burst from a side room. “She’s in here,” he cried, jumping up and down with anticipation. “She says to hurry.”
Mitch disappeared into the room, and Heather followed reluctantly. She felt completely out of place, almost an eavesdropper at a very private moment.
She might have saved her sense of decorum for a more appropriate time. It was hardly needed here. Birth might seem like a private process in her mind, but these people obviously thought otherwise.
The bedroom was plain. The woman lay on a double bed set beneath a huge crucifix. But the scene had none of the stark terror Heather had imagined. There were no hands clenching the bedpost, no wails of pain and anguish. Instead, the atmosphere was almost merry.
At least eight women and assorted children sat on chairs along the wall or played on the floor. There were calls of happy greeting all around, everyone seeming to have his own version of how labor had begun.
“Hello, Delores,” Heather heard Mitch say from somewhere behind the crowd. “How close are we?”
There was a low murmur and everyone strained to make out the words’, then a buzz filled the room as everyone asked one another what she’d said.
“Okay.” Mitch’s voice had the steel of unquestioned authority. “Everybody out.”
An underlying mutter swelled for a moment, but they did as they were told, everyone calling to Delores in the native language on their way out. Heather flattened herself against the wall and waited for the room to clear. Then panic swept over her.
“Come here, Heather,” Mitch ordered unceremoniously, throwing her a sterile smock and handing her a stopwatch. “Time her contractions while I take a look at that cervix.”
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