The interior wall featured a huge cage, forty feet long, six feet wide and sixteen feet high. The floor was made of pea gravel with a large drain in the center. Four fifteen-foot trees with large dark green, waxy leaves were planted in a row.
Inside the cage were a dozen brightly colored parakeets. Their chirps echoed throughout the room, infusing the space with life and cheer so that it was almost impossible not to smile.
The pool was large, perhaps a third of Olympic size, and clear as bathtub water. In short, the room was breathtaking.
“Jesus,” said Cann.
Bud grinned at him, pulled off her ‘cover up’, letting it fall where it landed, and ran for the pool like a little kid. Cann waited until she surfaced. She popped up from the water like a cork.
“Whoa,” she yelled. “It’s amazing! Stop standing there like an old man. Come in.”
He walked over to the white cast iron table. It was surrounded by six chairs with cushions covered in red with thin gold stripes. After pulling the tee over his head and draping it over the back of a chair, he turned and aimed a cannonball close enough to where Bud was treading water to create a wave.
When he came up above water, Bud was laughing. They swam and splashed for a while, both forgetting their troubles as if they’d been washed away by luxurious pool water.
Cann noticed the door opening. One of the staff held it while the butler wheeled a cart in.
“Chow’s up,” Cann said to Bud.
“We’re havin’ breakfast? In here?”
“That’s the plan.”
“You know, Johns, this might be the best day of my life.”
“That’s not sayin’ much, sugar. You’re still a kid.”
“For fifteen more hours. If you call me a kid again after that, you will be bopped.”
He laughed. “Bopped?”
“You know what I mean.”
He shook his head. “I don’t.”
“Well, call me a kid tomorrow and you’ll find out.”
He knew she wasn’t a kid on the inside whether it was that day or the next, but he took a perverse pleasure in seeing the fire light behind her eyes.
When they climbed the steps to exit the pool, two staff members rushed forward with thick white terry robes. One small. One extra large.
“Gracias,” Bud said, smiling at Cann like she’d become bilingual.
They sat down in front of a breakfast fit for European monarchy.
“Steak!” Bud said. “I’ve got steak!”
“I know,” Cann said.
“I love steak,” she continued. “Maybe not quite so done, but still…”
“The extra grilling’s a precaution. Just to make sure you don’t pick up anything that would make you sick.”
“Right.” She peeled an orange and found that the flesh inside was bright red. After popping a section in her mouth, she hummed then said, “This is beautiful and good. So good.” She looked at the pool, the thick white robe, and at Cann who had lifted a glass with red juice and leafy celery sticks, “Is that what I think it is?”
“Bloody Mary.”
“Oh. My. God.”
Cann chuckled and nodded. “I know. Life is strange.”
“It’s like that book, you know, The Secret?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t know.”
“Well, it says if you say what you want in the right way at the right time, it’ll happen.”
Cann put down his glass and stared at her for a few beats before saying, “I don’t want to spend more than three nights in jail for this.”
“I want to find a way to go back to school after the baby is born.”
“I want to find the guy who killed my family.”
“I want my baby to always be safe.”
“I want your baby to always be safe.”
She looked around. “Did you ever dream about a life like this? I mean, you know, seriously?”
He followed suit and looked around before answering. “Honestly, no. I guess I’m kind of a simple guy.” He looked over at her. “You?”
She shook her head. “This was fun. Today. But I don’t see myself livin’ like this.”
“I guess city planners travel a lot.”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “I don’t know about that. What I do know is that I’m not makin’ plans for just me anymore. Got somebody else to think about.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Kids need to stay in the same place.”
“They do.” She nodded. “School and all. Maybe I’ll make enough money to have a nanny. So I could be gone for a couple of days now and then.”
After more swimming and lunch, Bud and Cann explored the house and found the media room, which was complete with an enormous library of DVDs in both Spanish and English. He chose No Mercy. She chose A Walk in the Clouds. As they were leaving, the butler intercepted them.
In Spanish he told Cann that dinner would be at eight then disappeared.
“Dinner’s at eight,” he told Bud. “We should work on your Spanish.”
She yawned. “I was thinking naps. I’ve got time, right?”
He looked at his watch. “Yes. You’ve got time.”
She napped for almost two hours while Cann sat on one of the Chesterfields and read.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” she’d said, when she lay down.
“I’m not leavin’ you alone here.”
He said it matter-of-factly as if the thought was out of the question. And she reminded herself again not to get too used to that. It mimicked devotion, but wasn’t. He was just a nice guy doing a good deed. That was all.
Bud stood in front of the gigantic bathroom mirror blowing her hair dry, wearing the sapphire panties and bra that felt like they were made in heaven. When she pulled the skinny jeans on, she thought, “Damn. These look good. And I’ll probably only be able to wear them for another month.”
She sighed, stepped into the high-heeled sandals, and pulled the tunic over her head. It fell to mid-thigh, but draped her body in the most luscious way. She was pretty sure she’d never looked so good. Ever.
When she stepped out, Cann scanned her down and up, then shook his head. “Jesus.”
She took that as confirmation that she’d never looked so good. Ever.
As he opened the door to the hallway, he said, “What do you want for your birthday? I hear it’s a special one.”
“It is. Age of majority. I’m getting what I want.”
“What’s that?”
“Freedom.”
Cann had to admire the commitment she’d brought to finding her own way at any cost. Looking into her face was like meeting hope. She was the essence of optimism, believing that the future held good and marvelous things, adventures for the taking. She was the very opposite of him; a soul withered by sorrow and loss with nothing to look forward to except death, embittered by hatred of the faceless someone who’d brought complete devastation and destruction to his world.
Dinner conversation was mostly about the drug war zone since their hosts lived within a few miles of the Texas border. It was awkward in the sense that, for the second night in a row, Gael ignored his wife while she behaved as if there was nothing at all unusual about that.
A couple of times Bud had caught her hostess eyeing the rose tunic. “I will leave this behind when I leave tomorrow,” she said.
Señora Gutierrez took a sip of wine from her goblet then said, “Of course not. It will be my honor for you to keep it. I can always get another.”
Perhaps there was a dig in that last thought, but Bud was finding it harder to hate the señora, seeing that she had a lavish lifestyle, but without her husband’s love or even respect.
After dessert, Gael Gutierrez turned to Cann and said, “I’ve heard from Brant. He would like to discuss the plans for tomorrow. In my study there is a worry-free landline. You are welcome to make the call there and chat while the ladies and I enjoy coffee.”
“Thank you.” Cann nodded to Bud b
efore following Gael out of the room.
After a few minutes of awkward silence during which Bud found the pouring of coffee fascinating, Gael returned and entertained her with stories of his adventures in the wilds of Argentina when he was her age.
“When you come back across they’re going to grab you, but the guy who’ll take you into custody is a friend of mine. Likewise, the federale who will walk you across is a friend of Gael’s. You’re in good hands.”
“Bud…” Cann began. His first thought was to be scared for what would happen to her. Where would she sleep? Would she eat right?
“That’s the last thing you’ve got to worry about. Garland and I will be there to get her and bring her home. We’ll take care of her until you’re back.” He chuckled. “Garland’s already made her an appointment with the best obstetrician in Austin.” Brant paused. “You won’t be gone long. We’re lawyered up in ways you can’t imagine. If necessary we’ll tap Brand’s resources and you can’t begin to imagine how deep and wide that goes. Plus, this is a sympathetic situation to a hell of a lot of people. You’ll be a hero to them.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. Exactly. News people will be there so have that girl dress like a Madonna. Modest. Girl next door.”
“That is who she is.”
“Then that’ll come across and people’ll be on your side. Havin’ the public on your side, well, it’s powerful. Don’t worry. You did a good thing. It was a stupid thing, but it was also good and you’re not gonna suffer for it if we can help it.”
“Thanks, boss.”
They sat on the sides of their respective beds, facing each other.
“When?” Bud said.
“Noon. Brant says for you to wear somethin’ nice. There’ll be TV cameras and he thinks the impression is important. Modest young mother-to-be.”
“What’s gonna happen?”
“They’re gonna take me into custody at the border.”
All of a sudden the full-blown reality hit Bud. She wondered where her head had been. Hadn’t she known that was what was going to happen? Cann had told her often enough.
“No.” She shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. She practically threw herself across the few feet that separated them and, before Cann knew what had happened, she was straddling him with her face buried in his neck, sobbing. Instinctively he put his arms around her.
“Shhh. It’s gonna be okay. Brant is gonna get me out.”
“When?”
“I don’t know when.”
She drew back and looked at him with puffy eyes that broke his heart and he realized that, sometime between the Mountain Dew vending machine and that moment, she’d started caring about what happened to him. “No more than three nights.”
He smiled, reaching up to wipe tears away with his thumb. “Yeah. No more than three nights.” He stood up and set her on her feet. “You need to get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow’s gonna bring a lot of havoc.”
He realized that he’d started caring about what happened to her as well. The last thing he’d intended was for the girl to get attached to a walking dead man.
She’d already had some rough breaks. Her mama died when she was too young to remember. Her old man had abdicated his role as parent. Her boyfriend had knocked her up and abandoned her. And, Christ, she was stuck with the name ‘Bud’.
It really wouldn’t be fair for her to grieve for him when he was gone. That was not what he wanted. The whole point was leaving nobody behind who cared one way or the other. Seemed like he’d fucked that up without intending to.
The next morning, when she came out of the bathroom, Cann was sitting there with a huge chocolate cupcake featuring a lit pink candle. Bud’s eyes lit with delight and darted between Cann and the cupcake and back again.
“Please don’t make me sing. ‘Cause I can’t. But Happy birthday.”
Bud’s eyes were still a little swollen from all the crying the night before, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t more tears.
Cann was baffled. “Hey. Hey. What’s the matter?”
“I never had a birthday cake before,” she sniffled.
And his heart hurt for her even more. He wanted to punch her old man in the face and rearrange his nose.
“Well, here’s what you do. You make a wish.” She opened her mouth. “No. Wait. You don’t tell. Anybody. You keep it to yourself. And then you blow out the candle. Better hurry ‘cause it’s almost gone.”
She closed her eyes briefly then opened them and blew out the candle. Without warning she grabbed his face and pulled him down so she could plant a big kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Johns. You’re the best.”
“You’re welcome, sugar. But don’t be making me bigger than life.”
“I can’t make you bigger than life, Johns. You made yourself bigger than life.”
“Jesus.” He scrubbed a big hand over his face. “You need to get some breakfast and go pick out some clothes.”
“I’m havin’ cupcake for breakfast.”
“No. You are not. The cupcake isn’t to eat. It’s not safe. It was just like a… a prop.”
She went for it, but he was faster. He held it above his head while he walked backwards toward the window with her jumping for it the whole way and him laughing at her.
When he turned the window crank with one hand, she said, “You will not throw my cupcake out!”
“No?” he said, grinning.
“No!”
He threw the cupcake out.
She looked out. There it was. Her beautiful cupcake on the grass below. One of the guards holding an automatic weapon was looking up with open curiosity.
She turned on Cann. “I hate you.”
As she stomped off to go find clothes to wear, he laughed, “Is it the pregnancy hormones? I thought I was bigger than life.”
“You are. You’re the biggest asshole I know. I wanted that cupcake.”
“Darlin’. When you get across the border, Brant’ll get you all the cupcakes you can eat.”
She narrowed her eyes. “So we’re at darlin’ again?”
Cann’s smile gradually disappeared. “We should have been at darlin’ all along.”
Bud’s face fell because she understood what he was trying to say. He was sorry that she cared about him.
CHAPTER Ten
Bud was standing in the middle of her hostess’s closet trying to decide what to wear to the epic walk across the border. She pulled out a few things, but nothing seemed just right. She wanted sedate, but it was her eighteenth birthday and she didn’t want to dress like she was forty-five.
Perhaps the late October day was cool somewhere, but it was hot in Del Rio. She was lost in indecision and running out of time to decide. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the maids pass by the closet door.
Bud stepped to the entrance and said, “Can you come help me please?” The maid, who was straightening pillows, looked around as if Bud might be addressing someone else. “Yes. You. Come.” Bud made a gesture with her hand.
It took some doing to coax the young woman to sit down on the bench Bud was pointing to, but she finally relented and did so. Bud quickly acted out what she wanted, by holding outfits up and saying, “Si o no?”
The maid said no to the first three outfits, but smiled and nodded yes to the plain tan linen dress that fell just above the knee. It had a modest scoop neck, three-quarter sleeves, and looked great with the high-heeled sandals. The maid rose, opened one of the cupboards and pulled out a big brown Brahmin bag.
When Bud saw it, she nodded and giggled. It was big enough to carry everything she was taking with her and would look stylish, too.
“Gracias,” Bud said.
The maid smiled and seemed as pleased as Bud was.
Cann was waiting when she finished getting ready and emerged from the bathroom.
His eyes swept her figure appreciatively. “Jesus. You look good.”
Unused to compliments like that, she flu
shed slightly. “Thank you.”
“Ready?”
“I guess.”
Gael was waiting at the front door. “You look lovely,” he said. “The car is waiting.”
It took only twenty minutes to drive to the border crossing. Gael was on the phone with Brant.
“Here,” Cann said to Bud as she sat next to him in the backseat. “You take the money.” He handed her all the cash that was left. “Brant and Garland, that’s his wife, are gonna take care of you. So don’t worry.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they’re gonna make sure you have a place to stay, doctor appointments, maybe help you find a job. Stuff like that. The details aren’t important. What is important is that you and that baby are not gonna be on the street again. You understand?”
Her eyes were large and liquid. She nodded as a single tear spilled onto her cheek.
“No. No. No. No. Not this again,” Cann said. “It shouldn’t make you sad that you’re gonna be okay.”
“That doesn’t make me sad, Johns. It’s that I don’t know what’s gonna happen to you next.”
“I’ll be fine. You need to show those TV fucks that you’re no little girl.”
She nodded and smiled as she turned her attention to pulling herself together.
They parked a short distance from the bridge and got out of the car.
Bud turned to Gael. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”
He showed Bud his beautifully white straight teeth when he smiled. “It was delightful. You’re welcome anytime.”
A uniformed officer approached, shook hands with Gael and said something to Cann in Spanish. As they walked away, Bud heard Gael telling someone on the phone, in English, that the transfer had begun.
They could hear the noise of a large crowd and see that people were lining the roads on the other side.
“What is that about?” she said to Cann.
NOMAD (Sons of Sanctuary Book 3) Page 10