I’m so sorry.” She left the room before he could see her tears.
BEFORE THEY LEFT FOR the airstrip, the colonel received another call.
“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I see. Understood. Thank you, sir.”
He hung up and leaned back in his chair.
“It seems that things have taken a new direction.”
El Loro had been arrested trying to board a private jet he kept at an airport in the southern part of the country. Eight people died in the attempt to capture them.
Which reminded Gabriella of the gunfight at El Loro’s hacienda. She asked the colonel about it.
“We lost three special forces operatives that day. We’d heard from your father-in-law that you and Agent Donovan might be prisoners of El Loro. We sent three different teams to three of El Loro’s homes to see if we could find you. That particular operation was the one that went the most south. We didn’t lose anyone in the other two raids. They weren’t heavily guarded like the hacienda. We had to high tail it out of there before we lost more men. The sheer number of men he had responding to our raid showed us two things—Sen. Corbin tipped him off, and that he was trying to hide something important at that location. In fact, if our surveillance hadn’t picked up on your escape yesterday, we had plans to enact another raid, this one with more manpower and firepower, tomorrow night.”
Gabriella listened carefully to everything the colonel said and then asked, “Can we please go home now?”
He nodded. “We leave for the airstrip in ten minutes.”
They headed down the hall. Donovan was bringing up the rear, so Gabriella held back. She stopped by Donovan. His face was blank, but she knew he was in pain.
“Donovan, I’m sorry that this happened to us.”
She reached for his hand and he jerked away. That did it. She was tired of feeling like the only one who had done something wrong. Hurrying, she caught up to him. She leaned over as she passed and said. “At least when I had sex with someone else, it’s because I thought you were dead.”
She rushed up to the boy and put her arm around him as they walked to the Jeep.
The colonel said goodbye to them in the driveway. A soldier took the wheel. Donovan sat in the passenger seat. Gabriella and the boy got into the second row. It was quiet as they drove the winding roads to the airstrip.
Rounding one corner, Gabriella saw something out of the corner of her eye. It was an old woman standing at the edge of the jungle, staring at their vehicle. The woman had long gray hair that hung loose and a beige dress. She lifted a gnarled finger and pointed at Gabriella sending a chill down Gabriella’s spine. She quickly looked beside her at the boy. He was looking out the other window, Gabriella saw and was filled with relief. When Gabriella turned back, the woman was gone, as if she’d never been there or as if Gabriella had imagined her presence.
Gabriella didn’t know exactly what she had seen, but she knew enough to realize that it was a bad omen.
CHAPTER FIFTY
It was the first time Donovan had stepped foot in a plane since his crash.
They were taking the smaller plane to Mexico City where they would board The Saint’s private jet to San Francisco.
Gabriella watched Donovan buckle in, on alert for any signs of stress, such as his neck muscles tightening or nervous clenching of his jaw. But Donovan’s whole body oozed weariness and despair.
She knew it was because of her. She regretted her harsh words earlier, but she was pissed. It wasn’t fair that he was acting like he was the only wounded one here. He was acting like he had done nothing wrong. They both had fucked up. And big time. But both of them had extenuating circumstances. And even though she was furious with him right now, she also felt overwhelming relief and joy that he was actually alive. She’d give him time to cool off and then try again. She wouldn’t let him get away that easy. Not after losing him once. She was determined to make it work. They’d get over this. They had to.
As the plane taxied down the runway Donovan had his head turned away, staring out the small rectangular plane window. Gabriella reached out to stroke his arm, but drew her hand back before she touched his sleeve.
Instead, she leaned forward to peer out Donovan’s window.
The jungle surrounding the runway was dense and shadowy, a ruthless opponent for man and a sanctuary for predators and secrets as old as the earth itself. A sky dark with clouds had made the day even more ominous than usual.
The faster the plane went, the more the trees blurred into one solid mass of darkness. Gabriella shivered as the plane’s speed accelerated, clutching her miraculous medal and closing her eyes until she felt the nose lift into the air.
Seeing the crone on the way to the airport filled Gabriella with an ancient sense of foreboding. She couldn’t help but think that the crone was the jungle in human form and that the jungle was not going to let them leave this easily. She closed her eyes and said a small prayer.
When she opened her eyes, she was startled to find Donovan staring at her with an inscrutable look.
She swallowed and looked away, out her window. As the plane made a swooping turn, suddenly the jungle canopy filled her window. It was all she could see until a few minutes later when they crept into the thick cloud cover and everything became white.
When she turned back, Donovan was staring at her again. It looked like he was about to say something when they heard a small sound from behind them.
It was the boy waking up.
When Gabriella unbuckled her seatbelt, Donovan closed his mouth and turned away toward his window.
Gabriella settled into the seat beside Alejandro. And stroked his hair. He’d had a bad nightmare. She gently murmured the few comforting words of Italian she knew. Partecipo al tuo dolore – I share in your sadness and povero bambino- Poor baby. She stroked his hair until he closed his eyes again.
Outside the window, it grew even darker and pellets of rain started pelting the small window. The plane rocked from side to side, buffeted by the storm like a kite. The boy’s head rocked a little on the seat with the movement, but she could hear the sounds of his deep sleep. She clutched the armrests of the small plane, closing her eyes and praying for their safe trip home.
Lightning flashed and she caught a glimpse of Donovan’s face in the seat in front of her. She didn’t recognize the once familiar contours of his face, his cut jaw and cheekbones and heavy brows. He looked like a stranger. His obvious pain and fury made his face unfamiliar and seemingly distorted. Clearly, whatever he was thinking was dark and vicious and ugly. It was all over his face. A trickle of dread crept down Gabriella’s spine.
That’s when she realized. She’d gotten it all wrong. The jungle may have let them go, but it was not done with them yet. Not by a long shot.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
In Mexico City, they boarded a private jet the Saint had sent for them. Gabriella curled up in a lounge-type seat and slept for much of the flight. Alejandro sat beside her. She tried to hold his hand but he pulled it away giving her a sad look. Too soon. She was a stranger to him.
Donovan had sat toward the back of the plane. Every time Gabriella turned to meet his eye, he looked out the window. It was as if it were too painful to even look at her.
It was going to take some time. There were too many emotions in the space between them right now.
Meanwhile, Gabriella was sick with worry about her mother. The Saint had said she was too weak to meet them at the airport, but they would go directly to see her.
When the plane landed in San Francisco and Gabriella saw The Saint’s limousine waiting, she gently guided Alejandro toward it, trying not to hurry in her eagerness to see her mother.
When she reached The Saint, he gave her a smile of such sorrow she thought for a moment her mother had passed, but then he said, “Your mother is very excited to see you. Let’s not waste any time.”
“How is she?”
The Saint’s face grew dark. “She’s hanging in there.”
/> Donovan’s face crinkled. Gabriella was too exhausted to do anything but give him the cold, hard facts. “My mom is dying of breast cancer.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then clamped his lips together. Instead, he surprised her by reaching over and enveloping her in a hug. With her face pressed to his chest, she fought back tears. He kissed the top of her head and then drew away.
There was a moment of silence and then, to her surprise, the Saint launched into perfect Spanish. He said something that made the boy laugh.
It was the first time she’d seen the boy even smile. She couldn’t help but smile, too. This poor kid, all alone in the world, dropped suddenly in a foreign country. She vowed right then to do whatever she could to make him feel comfortable and welcome and wanted.
They piled in the back of the limousine. She and Donovan sat across from The Saint and Alejandro. Donovan immediately poured a tall glass of bourbon, downed it and poured another.
She nudged him aside and filled her own glass and did the same. He nodded at her wryly.
Across from them, The Saint was showing Alejandro various buttons and what they would do: opening the sunroof, lowering the dark window between the backseat and the front and turning on a small TV.
The cars and lights and sounds were overwhelming after months in the jungle. She wondered if the boy felt the same. But he arched his neck to see out. At one point, The Saint pulled out a small stool and the boy stood on it, his head and neck sticking out the top of the sunroof, taking in his first view of San Francisco.
She glanced at Donovan, staring out the limousine window at the cityscape. He was angry right now, but he wasn’t coldhearted. Somewhere in there her Donovan still lived beneath the layers of pain and betrayal. He would come around.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
When they arrived at the penthouse, Gabriella rushed inside and found Maria propped up on Gabriella’s couch with a velvety pink blanket over her lap. Grace was beside her, holding her hand as they watched ‘Cinema Paradiso.” It was near the end of the movie and they both had tears streaking their faces. The movie was too old for Grace, but Gabriella didn’t say a word.
Gabriella leaned over and gathered her mother and daughter in her arms, hugging them. Grace was crying and laughing all at once. She kissed her mother and then when she saw Donovan standing in the doorway, she shrieked and ran over to him, hugging his legs and laughing and crying.
Gabriella watched with a smile and then turned back to her mother, who felt so frail in her arms. Her mother patted Gabriella’s back and whispered in her ear, “You’re going to be just fine. I know it.”
Gabriella bit back tears. She would not cry. Her goal in life was to be strong so her mother didn’t worry about her. Her mother looked over Gabriella’s shoulder at Donovan.
“Get over here right now, Sean!”
Not letting go of Grace’s hand, he walked over with a huge grin, which startled Gabriella. She hadn’t seen him smile since they were reunited. But his smile was genuine for Maria. He loved her. He knelt down and gave her a hug and a tickle that had her laughing and protesting.
“Thank God you both are alive,” Maria said once he pulled back. “The Lord is good. He answered my prayers. It’s a miracle.”
Sneaking a glance at her husband, Gabriella thought it didn’t feel like a miracle to her right then. But she smiled back at her mother.
Then Maria noticed Alejandro, who was hanging back in the doorway. The Saint must have filled her in on the phone earlier because she greeted him with a large smile.
“You must be Alejandro,” Maria said. “It is such a pleasure to meet you. I’m sure you are exhausted, though, so we can catch up later. Grace, will you please show Alejandro to his room. We have some pajamas waiting, along with a sandwich and some milk and cookies. You must be starved from your long journey. We thought you two,” she nodded at Grace, “Could have a picnic in your room while we adults eat out here and discuss boring things.”
Once again, Gabriella watched her mother in awe. Such a gracious woman.
Grace’s cheeks pinked a little at the mention of her name, but she was over at Alejandro’s side in an instant.
“My name is Grace,” she said in perfect Italian. “Do you like to play Minecraft?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically as if someone was finally speaking his language in more ways than one. The two left the room deep in conversation.
LATER, AFTER ALL THE adults had feasted on pasta Carbonara and fresh bread and salad at the twelve-foot long black dining table. The Saint stood and waited behind Maria’s chair, saying it was time to get Maria to bed. He had hired a full-time nurse to care for Maria and she was waiting in the doorway. He’d also hired a nanny, who would remain employed until Gabriella and Donovan figured out their next steps.
When everyone had left the room and Gabriella and Donovan were alone, they didn’t speak.
Gabriella stared at her plate, pushing around the last of her lemon tart.
Donovan was studiously ignoring Gabriella. Two could play at that game.
Grace appeared in the doorway. “Are you guys going to tuck me in and say prayers?”
When they were both home at night, bedtime duties were something they did as a team. But not tonight. Gabriella stood up, holding her plate.
“Grace, why don’t you let Daddy tuck you in and I’ll be in later for prayers. I just want to get some of this cleaned up first.”
Her daughter wasn’t falling for it. Staring down at her feet, she left the room without looking at either one of them.
Donovan and Gabriella exchanged a glance, a look between parents that said more than words ever could. Then Donovan turned away and the moment was gone. That familiar moment as parents was comforting and heartbreaking at the same time.
He got up to go tuck Grace in and Gabriella did the dishes.
Later, when Gabriella fell into bed, exhausted, Donovan wasn’t there.
In the morning she found he’d fallen asleep on the couch in the family room watching TV. He made a joke of it to Grace, but when it began happening every night that week, it was clear it was no accident.
For the rest of the week, he kept her at a distance. Whenever she caught his eye, the pain on his face broke her heart. She was hurting too, though. It wasn’t all about him. But it seemed like every chance they had to speak, Grace was there, holding his hand, clinging to him so she would never lose him again.
Donovan spent most of his days waking late and then working until past dinner at the DEA office, going through “debriefings” he said. They planned to bring Gabriella in the following week for her own interview.
So far, Gabriella had avoided contacting her newspaper. She’d sent a text to Kellogg saying she’d write the story about her abduction and El Loro for the newspaper and would be in touch within the next few weeks. But she didn’t want to talk to him on the phone and ignored all calls and emails. She had lied. She wasn’t writing anything.
She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone except her immediate family. Her friends and colleagues seemed like part of a past life, a world she no longer lived in. Her brothers and sisters-in-law kept calling and she said she’d see them Sunday at Nana’s. Her grandmother now had a live-in nurse, like her mother, but still hosted the Big Sunday Dinner every week.
On nearly every Sunday of her childhood, Gabriella had joined her large extended family at her grandmother’s stone cottage out in Livermore. The house was tucked back among rolling hills covered with grapevines. On Sundays cars double and triple parked in front of the house and down the driveway for at least a quarter of a mile. Her grandmother was getting up there in years and a few years back, her grandchildren had taken over the meatball and sauce duties. Nowadays, Nana sat back and relaxed in her favorite chair on Sundays observing her legacy as people talked, laughed and ate. It was one of Gabriella’s most cherished family traditions and she was especially happy to see that it had become important to Grace, as well.
&n
bsp; She wondered what Alejandro would think about it.
He was a quiet boy.
Gabriella had received special permission to care for the boy until the international red tape had been sorted out. Nobody could find any living relatives in Italy.
The second day he was home, Alejandro had been evaluated by a therapist who said the boy was still in shock from being kidnapped and held captive for so long only to be freed and find out his father was murdered. The good news was that from what the therapist could tell, he had been treated well during his imprisonment. The therapist’s recommendation to the government officials who had hired him was that the boy should not be uprooted again. At least not for a long while.
That was just fine by Gabriella.
Every day that first week she asked Alejandro if everything was okay, if he needed anything, if there was anything she could do?
He always shook his head no. He never asked for anything. But he followed Gabriella around. If she went into the living room, he’d bring his books there to study. If she went to her bedroom, he’d pack up and retreat to his own room. It was sweet, but heartbreaking at the same time.
A tutor was hired to teach him English at the penthouse. All paid for by The Saint, who seemed to have a soft spot for the boy.
One day, after they had been back about a week, Gabriella woke early, made a few phone calls. Once Grace was off to school, Gabriella headed to the family room.
Donovan had taken to staying up late and sleeping most of the morning. The living room, which could be closed off with glass doors, smelled like beer and funk.
She slammed open the glass door so hard, it crashed into the wall with a loud bang. Donovan woke with a scowl. She stood there shaking with anger.
“We’re going to counseling. We have an appointment at ten.”
Donovan watched her with bleary eyes. “Okay.”
She turned and left without answering.
Blessed are the Peacemakers Page 18