Man with a Mission

by McKenna, Lindsay

  Jake raised his brows. “Dead Woman’s Pass? What kind of a name is that?” He felt her hand slip free of his. Instantly, he missed Ana’s soft, firm touch. If they weren’t on a mission, Jake would have been happy just to walk the Inka Trail holding her hand, as there was plenty of room for two people to walk side by side.

  “The legend goes that a woman died up there, praying for the spirit of her lover, who had died in a fall. A storm came and she was struck by lightning. The campesinos fear lightning, and so the name stuck. When it happened, no one remembers. It’s a very ancient legend. The pass is 4200 meters high. There are steps leading up to this first mountain pass, thank goodness—built in 1998 by the Peruvian Government, so they aren’t really part of the historical Inka Trail. But it does make the traverse a lot easier and faster now.”

  Ana set a quick pace, and Jake was impressed with her physical speed and endurance. As he walked at her shoulder, he saw about fifteen people coming their way, all tourists. In back of them were Que’ro Indians, small, hardy, dark brown people with huge loads wrapped in colorful blankets on their bent backs. Ana moved off the trail and Jake followed her. They murmured a greeting to the leader, a man from Germany, it seemed, and his all-German tourist group.

  Jake saw that the tourists carried hiking sticks, but very little gear. The Que’ro porters, on the other hand, were carrying heavy loads, of everything including the kitchen sink. When the lead Que’ro saw Ana, his face creased in a wide smile. He quickly spoke to her in Quechua, and she replied. The porters all nodded deferentially to them, and each in turn spoke enthusiastically to Ana. Jake guessed the packs they were carrying probably weighed close to a hundred pounds a piece, and yet these sturdy men with knotty calves who were less than five feet five inches tall, handled them amazingly well. He liked their colorful clothing, especially their beaded caps with ear flaps, woven in bright red, orange, yellow, black and pink. They wore tight-fitting red breeches to just below their knees, and open-toed sandals made out of car tires.

  After they trooped by, Jake said in a low tone, “They’re carrying a lot of weight on their backs for those tourists.”

  Ana nodded. “The porters are strong, Jake. They take pride in how much they can carry.”

  He grinned mischievously. “Why don’t the touristas carry their own weight? Isn’t this what it’s about? Hiking the Inka Trail? Not going out for a Sunday walk in the park and letting others do their dirty work.”

  She laughed with him and moved quickly back onto the trail, her stride long and rhythmic. “Yes, well, that’s the joke in Rainbow Valley, which we’re in now. Touristas are rich and can afford to have others carry their load. At least,” Ana said, losing her smile, “the money the porters earn helps their families, and that’s the important thing. There are parts of the Inka Trail that are dangerous, and sometimes a porter will slip and fall to his death. It’s a terrible thing to lose a member of a village. It’s like losing a loved one, because the ayllu, or Andean community, is like an extended family. Everyone works together. Everyone sings and dances and gets drunk together. We share everything. When an ayllu masa—a member of our community—dies, we all feel it. We all grieve as one.”

  “You have a family and community closeness that we had in North America back in the 1800s, before we started spreading out from one coast to another,” Jake observed, studying her as she walked beside him. Ana’s hair was becoming more crinkled because the humidity was increasing. The long, wavy black strands slid across her shoulders as she continued up the trail. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and yet she was breathing easily. He, on the other hand, was not breathing well at all and found himself huffing. It had to be the altitude.

  “Yes, I’ve studied American West history extensively,” Ana said, glancing up at Jake. “But now, you are community-less. Your family unit is no longer tightly knit. People within your small towns and large cities do not know or help one another.” She waved her hand in front of her. “Our way of life has endured for thousands of years. The Inkas, when they came to power, realized the beauty of our Andean system, and supported and enhanced it. When the Spanish came in 1500, they tried to destroy what we had, but no matter what they did, we survived it.” Ana grinned. “Today, our Andean ways are stronger than ever.”

  “Adversity made you strong,” Jake said. More and more he was admiring Ana and her people. He wanted to tell her that she was a wonderful ambassador. Seeing the world through her eyes was invigorating and exciting to him. Jake had never expected to have a partner like her on a mission like this. With her laughter and her open heart, she took the edge off his constant worry about Tal.

  “Exactly,” Ana said. She cocked her head and gave him a sober look. “Tell me about yourself. What were your growing up years like? You are a campesino at heart, no? Your parents have a corn farm in Iowa?” She liked the way his mouth softened when she spoke to him. Even though he was obviously a hardened warrior used to the brutal circumstances of his training and work as a U.S. Army Ranger, Ana saw a wonderfully sensitive side to Jake. And a lot of his icy gruffness from earlier was gone, too. Maybe she was showing him that she was a worthwhile member on this mission and this allowed him to open himself to her. Whatever the reason, she found her heart responding joyfully to his growing trust in her.

  “Not much to tell,” he murmured. “I come from three generations of farmers. I have two other brothers, and Tal, of course, and they all left the farm, too. My dad has had trouble meeting his debts, so the four of us left to get better paying jobs, and we send money home so he and Mom can keep our homestead. Corn prices have really sagged in the last decade, and my folks would have lost the farm if we hadn’t left to work elsewhere.”

  “I see…. Did you want to leave?” Ana pointed to his large, square hands, seeing the thick yellow calluses on his palms. “You have earth hands, Jake.” She splayed hers out before him, her fingers long and tapered. “See? Square hands. It’s a sign that you belong to Mother Earth.” And she smiled up at him.

  He returned her smile hesitantly. “I’ve never thought of it that way. Yeah…I guess if I got a chance, I’d go back to the land. I liked it. I liked plowing the fields, the planting. I like being outdoors.” Jake glanced upward. Overhead, the clouds, swollen with rain, were growing a gunmetal gray. The wind was picking up, becoming sharp sometimes and tugging at them restlessly.

  “And you love the army, too? Because it’s an outdoor job?” Ana met his assessing eyes. She felt her body respond fully to that hooded look Jake gave her. How could she be drawn so powerfully to him? A stranger who had walked into her life? A norteamericano at that? In all her life, Ana had never envisioned herself being drawn to an Anglo from the north. Yet she was.

  “Yeah, I like the challenge, the brutal physical demands. And I like the competition with the elements, and with the bad guys. I guess I have this crazy notion I’m a modern day white knight without his charger.” He gave her a teasing grin.

  “But if you could, would you go home to your farm? Your roots?”

  Nodding, Jake said, “In a heartbeat, but that’s not going to happen now, Ana. My parents are clinging to the land, paying a hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar loan to the banks and if they miss a payment, the bank will sell the farm out from under them. My other two brothers, both older than me, are in the military, too. Tal went to college to become a hydrologist. Among us, we send them enough money to keep their heads above water. It’s a tough time for farmers in the U.S.A.”

  “I see…So you do what you can to stay close to Pachamama in this way, as a ranger?”

  “Well,” Jake said sadly, “I had to resign my commission in order to get down here to find Tal. My commanding officer refused to give me leave to come to Peru. So I resigned and left the army.”

  “Oh, dear…” Ana murmured. “That was wrong. Your C.O. should have let you come. You’re an officer, a man of many talents and skills. How could he throw you away like that?” Ana admired Jake for his courage, his love for his sis
ter. He’d chosen Tal over his job and career. That took a lot of guts, Ana knew. It also left Jake without an income. He’d given up a lot to find his sister.

  Shrugging, Jake slowed to a stop. He was breathing hard and fast, his heart pounding like a freight train in his chest. Leaning over, his hands on his bent knees, he said, “It was a stupid decision on my C.O.’s part, but I wasn’t going to let anything or anyone stop me from coming down here to find my sister.”

  “You are very like us in many, many ways, Jake. You place family, parents, land and heritage before other things.”

  He snorted, bowed his head and braced against a cooling gust of wind that blasted them from behind. “That and a dollar might get you a cup of coffee,” he said in jest. Slowly straightening, his breath coming less harshly now as he rested, he held Ana’s upturned gaze. Her eyes shone with respect for him. Once again he felt strong and good beneath her warm cinnamon eyes. What Ana felt toward him, Jake was discovering, was important to him. He wanted her to admire him. To think that he was a good man. Someone she could always trust, who would always be there for her if she needed him.

  “What will you do after we find Tal? You have no job. No money.”

  Shrugging, Jake slid his fingers beneath the thick shoulder straps and adjusted his load he carried. “I don’t really know. I have a little nest egg saved up. First things first, though. I need to find Tal. A lot depends upon her and how she is. If she’s hurt…or worse…I want to be there for her however I can be….”

  Ana heard the worry in his voice and saw the fear in his eyes. Reaching out, she curled her fingers around his upper arm and felt his thick, hardened muscles flex beneath her fingertips. “We’ll find her,” she promised him huskily. “I said a special prayer for Tal to our apus. They will help us find her quickly. I prayed for her safety. They will keep her safe, Jake. I know you probably think what I’m saying is crazy—” she looked up at the hills surrounding them “—but the spirits of nature down here are very much alive, very responsive to anyone who asks help from them.”

  “Then I’m going to start asking, too.” Her hand felt steadying on his arm. Jake stopped himself from stepping inches closer and sweeping Ana into his arms. Her hair was in disarray, tossed by the inconstant breezes. Her cheeks were a deeper pink now, and her wide, innocent eyes were lovely enough to make a man drown in them, heart and soul. Right now, Ana looked like a wild, primal part of nature, not a pilot, and certainly not a woman in the military. And that bothered him. He couldn’t reconcile the two images of her. His traditional ideas, his old-fashioned expectations of her as a woman were strongly ingrained in him.

  Ana released him. “Then do it with coca leaves.” She gave him three perfect leaves from her bag. “Coca leaves are sacred to the apus and nust’as, the gods and goddesses of nature. If you use coca leaves and pray to them, they will listen. Just hold the leaves in your hand, close your eyes, think of Tal and ask for their help to keep her safe.”

  Jake smiled a little as he carefully held the three small leaves in his large fingers. “I’m not much for praying, Ana.” And he wasn’t. Jake wasn’t sure about this mystical world she believed in, but he felt a peace here he’d never felt anywhere else he’d ever been in the world. He was a globe-trotter of sorts, because he was a ranger. Still, a little trust in her spiritual world wouldn’t hurt anything, and he was willing to try anything to save Tal’s life.

  Ana watched as he awkwardly held the leaves in his massive hand, closed his eyes and bowed his head a little. Touched by his attempt to pray for his sister in the ways of the Andean people, she felt her heart sing. The touristas who came to Peru rarely wanted to know anything of her people or their ways. And too frequently, tourists laughed at her beliefs. Not Jake Travers.

  As he opened his eyes, he glanced at her, a rueful look on his face. “Now what? Do I dig a hole and bury them like you did?”

  Smiling gently, Ana nodded. “Yes. Just hold Tal in your thoughts. See her face. See her happy and smiling.”

  Moving off the trail to dig a small hole, Jake squatted down. “That won’t be hard to do.”

  Once the leaves were buried, Jake rejoined Ana on the trail and they took off once again. Splatters of rain began to fall. Ana pointed up ahead, to a grove of stately eucalyptus trees.

  “Let’s stop there and set up our tents for the night. The rain gods are going to probably deluge us shortly.”

  When they got to the thick stand of trees, it was raining erratically. The afternoon light had faded quickly into evening, with low-hanging, angry-looking clouds now surrounding them. After Jake laid his pack down on the grass beneath the trees, he searched inside for a small tent. Ana, who knelt nearby, pulled her own tent from the bottom of her pack.

  “I don’t think I have a tent,” he told her. The wind rose and howled in fury. The rain began in earnest.

  “Oh dear…” Ana frowned. “Quick, come and help me get this tent up. We’ll share it. I don’t want us wet and cold at this altitude.”

  Jake hurriedly worked with her to erect the small nylon tent and pound stakes into place to hold it. Both quickly crawled inside it, hauling their packs in with them. There was barely room to sit up, especially for Jake because of his height. Ana squirmed around, accidentally kicking him with her boots in the tight space.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, quickly zipping up the entrance. Wind beat erratically against the nylon shell of the tent. Sitting up, she pushed her tangled hair off her face and smiled at him. Their quarters were really cramped. With their huge packs inside, they couldn’t even turn around without bumping into one another. Her heart beat wildly. It wasn’t from the altitude. No, it was from being this close to Jake. Swallowing, Ana managed another small smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of my boots. We can open our sleeping bags and get inside them to dry off and keep warm.”

  “Good idea,” he murmured. But as he began removing his boots, Jake kept running into Ana’s arm, her elbow or shoulder. A clap of thunder sounded overhead. The wind blasted through the stand of trees. Rain began pelting down in earnest.

  “Do storms like this pop up often?” he asked, setting his boots aside.

  Nodding, Ana tucked her own boots into a corner and then opened her pack to drag out her sleeping bag. Jake was so close. So pulverizingly masculine. She wanted to touch him the way a woman would touch her man in sensual exploration. Fighting her desires, Ana said as she laid out her bag, “Yes. We’re in the mountains now, halfway between the humid, moist heat of the jungle and the cold air coming off the apus surrounding this valley. The hot and cold air mix, and storms pop up all the time. Especially in the late afternoon and evening hours.”

  By the time they had their sleeping bags laid out and were snugly wrapped in them, the storm was raging. In the dim light Jake could barely make out Ana’s facial expressions. She lay on her side, her arm propping up her head, her hand resting against her jaw as she faced him. He lay in a similar position. Their voices were muted by the storm growling and snarling around them. The lightning would dance across the sky and illuminate the inside of the tent briefly. And every time, Jake would look at Ana’s peaceful, serene features. Her eyes were half-closed, her soft lips parted, the corners turned upward as they talked in hushed tones. The inside of the tent was warm from their body heat.

  “There’s one thing I really need to know,” Jake told her in a teasing manner.

  “What’s that?” Ana liked his low, deep voice. It moved through her like a haunting Andean flute melody, touching her core as a woman.

  “I’m having one helluva time equating you, here, with the image of you as an Apache gunship pilot. How did you get mixed up with the U.S. Army? That has to be a story in itself.”

  Laughing softly, Ana turned onto her back and placed her hands behind her head. “Oh, yes, that is a story, Jake.”

  “Well, we’ve got all the time in the world,” he observed dryly. “We aren’t going anywhere until dawn tomorrow. I’m al
l-ears.” He was hungry to know all about her. To try and understand why Morgan would allow a woman, especially Ana, to be on this dangerous mission.

  Laughing softly, Ana said, “You’re a glutton for punishment, then. I don’t think I’m that interesting.”

  Jake checked the urge to reach out and touch her hair, which lay in an ebony coverlet about her head and shoulders. They were so close…so agonizingly close. What would it be like to hold Ana in his arms tonight? Make sweet, passionate love to her? Feel her earthy, sensual form, her arms wrapped around his shoulders? Chiding himself, Jake knew he didn’t dare do such a thing. Tal’s life was at stake. They could be in danger themselves on this trail. He didn’t know the territory at all. No, he had to remain alert, not give his aching heart away to this incredible woman who seemed made of earth and of air, nature a vital part of her.

  Sighing, Ana said, “Okay…just remember, you asked for it.”

  “You’ll never bore me.”

  Giggling, Ana said, “I love your sense of humor, Jake.” She reached out spontaneously and patted his hand. Ana wanted to do more, but fiercely told herself that she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to share herself with Jake, this wasn’t the time nor the place.

  Removing her hand, Ana said, “My father was in the Peruvian Air Force before he settled down in his family’s business of art dealership. His father had been a pilot, too, so he was following family tradition. Family is very important here in South America. When the condors landed in front of me as a three-year-old, my parents decided that I was meant to fly, too. My father, who was very influential in government politics, helped to create openings for women to join the Peruvian military. I was one of the first two women to be allowed to learn to fly helicopters in the Peruvian army. Because we were at the top of our class, we were sent to the U.S. Army’s training center in Fort Rucker, Alabama, to learn how to fly Apache helicopters. This was a very big thing, you know…for the Peruvian military to send two women up there. Usually, male pilots were sent there for multi-national or what we call cross-training.”