The Amazon Quest (House of Winslow Book #25)

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Spiritual? What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, I don’t mean about our God. They haven’t made up their mind yet about the true God. What I mean is they live in a world inhabited by spirits, so they think, some good and some evil. When someone gets sick, they say an evil spirit’s there. When good fortune comes, the good spirits are there. So they are ready to receive just about anything.”

  “Have any of them accepted Jesus yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Aren’t you discouraged, Ian?”

  “Oh, a little, I suppose.” The two had reached the edge of the village, and he stopped and looked up at a strange-looking bird, a fearsome creature called a harpy eagle. He had explained before that the eagle was, more or less, the mascot of the village. These fierce-looking birds were called “winged wolves” by the natives, due to the ferocity of their attacks on monkeys.

  Ian studied the bird, then shook his head. “No, I promised God I’d be faithful to declare the Lord Jesus to these people. I’ve tried to do that. I read of one missionary who stayed in India and preached for twelve years before he had a single convert.”

  Emily was impressed. She bit her lip and shook her head in denial. “I don’t think I’d have the patience for that.”

  “I think God has to give that to you. I don’t think any of us have it by nature.”

  “How long will you stay here?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve been asking the Pettigrews to send a real missionary here, but there are no volunteers.”

  Emily at that moment found herself feeling admiration for Ian Marlowe. For that instant she was able to put aside the past. He had come without help or financial support to a strange country, had mastered a difficult unwritten language, and despite his lack of success in making converts, he was determined to be faithful. But why do I still doubt him? she thought. Then a call came that took the attention of both of them.

  Ian squinted his eyes at the couple that had suddenly appeared, emerging from the jungle. “Why, it’s Adriano and Sarita!” He left Emily standing there and hurried to meet the Reys.

  Emily followed at a slower rate and watched Ian grasp the hand of the older man.

  “Adriano, what in the world are you doing here?” Then he turned and gave Sarita a hug and laughed. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Sarita.”

  “We brought the rest of your supplies. See, we persuaded two bearers to come with us,” Sarita said, motioning at two husky young men who were carrying tremendous loads on their backs.

  Emily saw that they seemed wary or even fearful, and Adriano said something to them in Portuguese. His words did not seem to reassure the bearers, and Adriano smiled.

  “They were afraid, but I promised them double pay. They’re anxious to be on their way. Where will they put the supplies?”

  “Over this way,” Ian said quickly. He led the way to the tents and the small hut, and the bearers put their burdens down. They waited only until Adriano gave them some coins, and then they turned and ran away quickly, as if a jaguar were after them.

  “You shouldn’t have come all the way out here to the village,” Ian said. “We could have gotten along.”

  “Perhaps you could, but I thought our two young friends here would be hungry for some real coffee.”

  “Coffee! Did you bring coffee?” Emily exclaimed.

  “Yes, and a few other good items to eat. I thought you’d be tired of living on monkey meat.”

  Emily laughed and shook her head. “Right about now I could eat anything.”

  Ian said quickly, “Emily, would it be all right if Sarita shared the hut with you?”

  “Of course,” Emily said. “I’d be glad to have the company.”

  “I can sleep outside,” Sarita said at once.

  “No, of course not,” Emily said. “Could you rig up another bed, Ian?”

  “No trouble at all.” He smiled down at Sarita and said, “I’m glad you’re here.” Then he slapped Adriano on the shoulders and said, “Come along. Noki will want to talk with you.”

  Sarita stood stiffly as the two men left. “I don’t want to get in your way,” she said cautiously.

  “Why, it’s good to have you, Sarita. Come along. We’ll get your things separated and we’ll make coffee. I’m dying for a cup,” Emily said.

  Wes came in shortly and went at once to Sarita. “Hello,” he said. “When did you get here?”

  “We came just a few moments ago,” Sarita said.

  She had a smile for him that she had not given Emily, and the two fell into a conversation. Emily watched them and somehow felt that Sarita had built a wall around herself. She had seen this earlier, back at the Rey home. Clearly Sarita had a special feeling for Ian. For some reason this troubled Emily, but she shook her head and thought, It’s none of my business, and began at once making provision for the younger woman to share the hut.

  ****

  “Sarita, I’m going down to the river to take a bath. Would you like to come with me?”

  Sarita had been arranging her gear, and now she looked up and studied Emily. “Yes,” she said. “I think I would.”

  Emily grabbed the soap that Sarita had brought and several shirts that she could use to dry off on. “I wish I had a towel,” she said.

  The two women made their way down to the river where Ian had shown them a quiet pool that was free of piranha and apparently fairly safe from prowling jaguars. For twenty minutes they stayed in, letting the water cool them off. Finally, when they got out and dried themselves as best they could, Sarita said, “How long have you known Ian?”

  “Oh, several years.”

  “Were you ever his woman?”

  Emily suddenly flushed, for the question had taken her aback. In a way she had been his woman, at least had felt attracted to him and had fancied herself in love with him, but she knew that Sarita’s question went deeper than this.

  “No, not really.”

  “Do you want to be?”

  “Of course not!” The answer popped out before Emily could even think. She saw a look of disbelief in Sarita’s eyes.

  “Do you have another man somewhere?” Sarita demanded.

  Emily suddenly recognized then that Sarita had come with her simply to find out how she felt about Ian. “No,” she said. “I don’t.”

  Sarita pondered Emily’s terse answer. She ran her hands down her coal black hair and then asked, “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-two.”

  Sarita shook her head in disbelief. “You’re twenty-two, and you have no man? Is something wrong with you?”

  “No, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m going back.”

  Emily was angry and upset as she headed back along the trail toward her hut. She disliked being cross-examined, and now she had no doubt in her mind about Sarita’s feelings for Ian. The young woman was in love with him and had seen Emily as a rival.

  Sarita took her time getting back to the village. She walked along the riverbank and soon came upon Wes, who was taking pictures of the young people splashing about and enjoying themselves.

  “Hello, Sarita,” he said.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking pictures as usual.”

  Sarita sat down on the bank, and eventually Wes came over and sat down beside her. He talked enthusiastically about all the pictures he had taken so far of the Guapi, but Sarita did not seem to hear.

  “Wes, why does your sister have no man?”

  Surprised, Wes turned to her. “I guess she hasn’t found anybody.”

  “She’s old.”

  “Old! She’s not old! She’s only twenty-two.”

  “All the women I know who are that old are married, and most of them already have babies.”

  “I think it’s different in our country. Some women don’t marry sometimes until they’re older than my sister.”

  “Why do they wait so long? Don’t they want a family?”

  “I don’t know, Sarita,” Wes sa
id. He shook his head and then turned to look at her. “Why are you asking?”

  She was a very direct young woman, and now she said evenly, “I thought she might be in love with Ian.”

  “Well, she was at one time.”

  Sarita’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t tell me that.”

  “It wasn’t a very happy matter.”

  Sarita studied Wes for a moment, then got up and left without another word. “What was that all about?” Wes muttered. “I’ll have to ask Emily about it.”

  ****

  Ian had taken his rifle apart and was cleaning it. Metal objects rusted quickly in the wet climate, and he hummed under his breath as he rubbed the barrel with an oily rag. He looked up to see Emily emerge from her hut, and when she came over, he said, “Hello. About ready to start supper?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “I shot some birds today. Might be a change from red meat.”

  “What kind are they?”

  “I don’t know what they are. They look like pigeons, but they’re not really. I plucked and cleaned them for you.” He stood up and went over and picked up a bag. “I think there’s enough for all of us. I had good luck. Where’s Sarita?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said sharply.

  Ian looked at Emily, for she seemed upset. “Did you two have a falling out?”

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “Something she said. She’s got a temper.”

  “So have I.”

  Ian laughed. “Yes, I know. What’s wrong between you two?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Well, as Shakespeare said, ‘Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.’ Don’t be upset with her. She’s very young. Just a child really.”

  “She’s not a child!” Emily actually had been agitated ever since her brief conversation with Sarita down at the river, and now she turned to him and said, “You know she’s in love with you.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Emily.”

  “I’m not foolish.”

  “Did she tell you this?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well, I think you’re imagining things. I’m fond of her, of course. When I stumbled into the Reys’ house, she and her grandfather just about saved my life. I was pretty sick, so I’m grateful to her.”

  Emily turned to face him squarely. “She believes it’s more than that.”

  “I think you’re wrong.” Ian studied her, and his mind went back to the time when they had been closer. He had thought of those days often, and even through the years, he had never forgotten holding her in his arms and the kisses she gave him. Even now as she stood before him, he was aware of the attraction he still had for her. He admired her physical beauty—her glossy red hair that hung all the way down to her slim waist, her smooth skin, and her gentle feminine curves. Her face was quick to express her thoughts, and now he saw that she was disturbed. He said quickly, “She’s a fine young woman, but there’s nothing to what you say.”

  “You’re a fool if you think that!” Emily snapped.

  Ian blinked. “Well, that’s speaking right out.”

  Ian fell silent, and Emily moved her shoulders in a restless motion. “I didn’t mean to be so rough. It’s just my nature.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Suddenly Emily began speaking, saying things she had not planned but which had been bottled up within her. She was not even aware of how the words poured out of her. “When I got your letter asking for forgiveness, I was so angry. I have been for a long time. Mom and Dad said they were willing to forgive you, but I never was.”

  Ian nodded. “They wrote me a letter saying they’d forgiven me. I still have it.”

  Emily had not known her parents had corresponded with him, and now she shook her head. “I think Wes has forgiven you, but I’ve never been able to. I’ve hated you for a long time, Ian. My . . . my pride was hurt. I can’t seem to get over it, and since then I’ve discovered some bad things about myself.”

  Ian waited for her to speak, but she did not. “What is it?” he said finally. “I found out a lot of bad things about myself, too. Sometimes it helps to say it out loud.”

  “All right, I’ll say it then,” Emily said, her voice husky. “I don’t want to forgive you. I . . . I didn’t know that about myself until last night.”

  “I can’t blame you. What I did to you was terrible. No woman likes to be deceived.”

  Emily wanted to speak, but it was difficult for her. Finally she managed to say, “I don’t want to hate you. The anger and bitterness I’ve held inside has brought me nothing but misery.”

  “I can’t help you with that. I don’t think anybody can—only God. But for your sake, I wish you could forgive me.”

  Emily stared at him. “For my sake?”

  “Yes,” Ian nodded. “Forgiveness brings freedom from what has wounded us. I know you think I was nothing but a scoundrel, and I’ve told you every way I know that you were right.” He hesitated, and then suddenly he reached out and took her by the shoulders and held her firmly in his grasp. “I remember the times we had. I’ve never forgotten them, Emily. I remember the stream where we went and fished. I remember the time we slid off in the ditch and had to spend the night in that cold barn. And I remember sitting beside you while Gypsy Smith preached. His message went right to my heart, but for some reason I couldn’t give myself to God. I remember those times, Emily, and what I felt for you was real. It wasn’t part of the act.”

  His voice was soft, and his eyes contained something that Emily could not read, but she knew that he was speaking the truth. “I remember them, too,” Emily said. She lowered her head, aware of his hands holding her shoulders. His hands were strong, and she felt a weakness but forced herself to look up. “I was falling in love with you, Ian, and I blame myself for it.”

  Ian suddenly reached out with one hand and laid it on her cheek in a gentle gesture. He held it there and waited for her to push him away, but she did not. She simply stood there, and the two of them seemed to be caught in some sort of spell that they could not break.

  Finally Ian took a deep breath. He dropped his hands and locked them behind him. For a long moment he seemed unable to come up with words, or so it seemed to Emily. She did not know what he would say, but she found herself breathing rapidly, knowing that somehow she would have to resolve this matter between herself and Ian Marlowe.

  “A man sees beauty in the world, Emily,” Ian finally said, his voice soft as the summer breeze. “Sometimes he sees it in a woman.” His lips drew together into a thin line, and then he said almost harshly, “Tough on me . . . but the only woman I’ve ever seen it in . . . is you.” He turned and walked away quickly, leaving Emily to stare after him in disbelief.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Love Can Be Painful”

  The days dragged slowly by for Emily after Ian’s confession that he found beauty only in her. Time back in the States was a rushing river, and one was either caught up in it or left behind. Here in the Amazon rain forest, however, time was more like a still pond, broken only occasionally by the gentle circling of concentric rings. A soporific quality in the air brought a drowsiness to the spirit, and Emily found herself thinking more and more of the feelings she’d had for Ian years before, when she knew him as James Parker.

  In the midst of these thoughts and feelings, Emily found each day with the Guapi full of new challenges to understand their ways. She was grateful for Ian’s presence here. She knew that only God could have arranged such a miracle, and that without Ian as their guide, she and her brother would never have had this opportunity to live among the Guapi safely and learn from them.

  Several times she had awakened to hear odd sounds coming from the village, and finally one morning after breakfast she asked Ian, “What are those strange noises I hear every morning?”

  Ian looked at her and shrugged. “It’s not very nice. That’s the sound of retching you hear. The Guapi believe that a good clearing of the stoma
ch starts the day off right. They get up and drink as much as they can of wayus—that’s a tealike stimulant and a pretty effective emetic.”

  Emily was startled by his explanation but found a great compassion for these people welling up in her. “They don’t live long, do they?”

  “No, their lives are hard and they succumb to many illnesses. The death rate among their infants is pretty high, too.”

  “Do the witch doctors know anything at all about useful medicines?”

  “If they do, they’re pretty secretive about them,” Ian said.

  Emily noticed that Ian seemed to have drawn a line between them. He did not have the same openness he had shown before he had told her how he felt. She assumed he was afraid of a rebuff and was shielding himself by keeping a proper distance. He spoke evenly as he continued to talk about the medical care among the Guapi.

  “They’ve been treating malaria with quinine for years, and they use cocoa as a painkiller. I read somewhere that our own doctors have discovered that curare—that’s the poison the Guapi use on their darts and arrows—is good for controlling spasms.”

  “Before I came here I read that leprosy was pretty bad in this country,” Emily said.

  “It is bad. Only two cases of it I know of among the Guapi, though, and they’re not very far advanced.” He stood up suddenly, saying, “I’m going to go see a woman who’s been bitten by a shou.”

  “What’s that, a snake?”

  “No, it’s a spider.”

  “Will she die?”

  “No, but this spider bite is very painful. When these people are hurting or ill, they want me to pray for them. It’s one of the few things I can see where I’ve made a difference.”

  Emily stood up and asked, “May I go with you?”

  “Sure, come along.”

  As the two walked toward the woman’s hut, Ian kept carefully to neutral subjects. He told her of a man who lived downriver from the Reys who had leprosy. He had lost his fingers, and his feet were going, but he still loved to hunt. “He strapped sandals to his stumps, wired a shotgun to his shoulder, and then went out in the jungle alone. He came back with some pretty good specimens.”