by Ava Miles
“Because your reaction to me getting my dream job hurt my pride,” he said harshly. “It didn’t feel like a good time to ask you to marry me. And maybe I was afraid you’d toss the ring in my face. You were mad enough.”
“Oh, Boyd, I don’t know what to say,” she said, her voice cracking. “Last night…I was wrong to use the trip as an excuse to do what I wanted.”
The emotion in her voice gave him the courage to lean forward. She closed the distance, and their mouths met again. Softly. Oh so sweetly. Longing rushed up in him, and he had to put a lid on the corresponding hurt.
“I’m glad you still want me, Mickey, but I meant what I said. I want you back all the way.” He kissed her again, long and lingering, not caring that they were in the middle of the camp. “Think about that as we travel to the village. I’ll await your answer.”
He pocketed her ring and left the table.
Right now, he felt like luck was on his side. Maybe Joseph was right and the gods favored them. He didn’t much care about the why of it.
He only wanted his Michaela back beside him.
Chapter 11
Michaela didn’t care that others were taking down their tents in the camp and packing up. She was in the middle of a major emotional crisis.
Boyd had wanted to marry her, exactly what she’d wanted for their future together, and he’d even bought her a ring. A beautiful ruby. How could he talk about buying her something bigger and better? She’d wanted to sock him for saying that. Money again! Her family had never wanted for it, no, but her parents had taught them all that a bigger price tag didn’t make one thing inherently better than another.
Oh, she needed to talk to her sister.
Eyeing her phone lying next to her on her bed, she broke her cardinal rule and called Caitlyn. Wasn’t it a miracle they had cell coverage anyway? Hopefully, the fact that her sister’s lavender farm in Provence was in a similar time zone would prompt another miracle: she’d answer.
When she did, Michaela closed her eyes and gave thanks to the Universe above.
“Mickey! What are you doing calling? Are you okay?”
“Oh, Caitlyn! I had to call you. I need advice. Help. I don’t know. Boyd just told me he’d planned on proposing before I broke things off.”
“Propose? No way!”
“He even asked Dad! I can’t believe Dad didn’t say anything.” Probably because he’d known she was so upset. Her mom would have cautioned him against interfering. But still…
“He asked Dad? That’s gutsy. Wow! I wouldn’t have thought Boyd would go so traditional.”
“Me either.” And yet, he did traditional things like pull her chair out for her, help her with her jacket, or carry the groceries. She’d balked at that sometimes—something that had made him angry, she remembered. “I’m going crazy here. I mean, we’re leaving for the Valley of Stars in a few minutes—”
“That’s great, Mickey. It’s been your dream.”
“And then Boyd takes out this ring—”
“He has it with him? Wowza! Keep going.”
“He wants me back the whole way. I mean, he even… Oh, crap, this is a little embarrassing. I might have been open to having sex with him again. Nothing long-term in my head. But he wouldn’t go for it. He said he didn’t want that.”
“My head is spinning. That’s a lot to take in.”
“I know, and I don’t have long to talk. We need to leave.”
“Okay, let’s dial it back. I’m going to take a page out of Ibrahim’s playbook here since he helped me sort through my own issues.”
They’d dubbed Caitlyn’s master perfume maker the Perfume Jedi, a nickname he’d earned for asking questions about a person’s truest desires and motivations. “Is he close by?”
“No, he’s with Beau talking about the men’s cologne. Mickey, here’s question number one: what do you want?”
She remembered the way Boyd had looked at her as he held the ring out, his eyes full of vulnerability and sadness. She’d crushed him, and it struck her that it must have taken a massive amount of courage for him to approach her again. Heck, he’d given her the Valley of Stars. But that wasn’t the question Caitlyn had asked her. “Oh, I don’t know. I need to think about it.”
“Good thing you’ll have plenty of time in the savannah to do just that,” Caitlyn said. “Now for question number two.”
“Okay, but then I have to go,” she said, standing and pacing in the narrow space.
“What is it about being with Boyd that scares you most? Oh, and what is it about being with him that makes you feel something no one else can give you? I remember you telling me that’s how you felt right before you asked him to move in with you.”
She had concluded rather scientifically that she’d never exhibited the kind of feelings or responses with anyone like she had with Boyd. “I remember. We had a mushroom pizza and way too much wine at my place.”
“You thought he was the One then. What changed? And has something else changed now that you know he wants to marry you?”
Had it? Did the M-word carry that kind of power? She gulped. Yeah, it kinda did, or this wouldn’t have thrown her. “God! Spending all that time with Ibrahim has made you way too intense. So many questions, Caitlyn.”
“But you’re good with questions, Mickey. It’s why you’re a scientist. Why don’t you break this problem down with one of your charts?”
“I am logical,” she said, but then she sank back onto the narrow bed. “But loving Boyd isn’t logical. That’s always been the problem.”
“Your love for plants isn’t logical either, but somehow you’ve made it work,” Caitlyn said, and Michaela could hear the smile in her voice.
“That’s something to think on. Okay, I have to run. Have I told you how grateful I am for you?”
“I don’t know that I was much help, but I’m always here for you. I love you, Mickey. Now go have fun finding your dream. And tell Aunt Clara, Uncle Arthur, and Hargreaves we miss them.”
“I will. My love to Beau and the Perfume Jedi. Thanks, Caitlyn. You’re the best.”
“I feel like it these days. Bye, Mickey.”
“Bye!”
She stood, phone in hand, and took several deep breaths. Her respiration needed to slow to combat her anxiety; it was a medical fact. Perhaps Caitlyn had been right about the chart, only there was one issue.
She hated to think of Boyd as a problem.
Now more than ever.
“Mickey!” Boyd called. “We need to break down your tent. Are you finished doing…whatever you’re doing?”
God, she hoped he hadn’t heard her on the phone. She’d tried to talk in her inside voice, but her emotions had gotten away from her.
It struck her that Connor was the person she should have called, the person she needed to call. She wouldn’t think about the time on his end.
“Just a minute,” she called out to Boyd. “I need to call Connor.”
She heard him shuffle off as she dialed her brother’s number.
“Michaela,” he answered immediately. He sounded exhausted, and she felt a prickle of guilt.
“I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“I wasn’t asleep yet. Sleep and I haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a while now.”
She wanted to ask if he’d been struggling with the problem since their cousin Corey’s death, but Connor didn’t like to talk about that. He and Corey had been inseparable, and she knew her brother felt personally responsible for the accident that had claimed Corey’s life on a Merriam offshore oil rig. The accident hadn’t been anyone’s fault, but try telling Connor that. “I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” he said, his voice turning hard. “I don’t have any news on Iggie. Customs is being extremely disagreeable. One of their top officials asked my emissary to make an over-the-top bribe, and I’m loath to give it to the bastard.”
“Understandable. Let me update you on my end. An emissary of the village that presi
des over the Valley of Stars arrived this morning. He plans to take us there. Today. I don’t see waiting for Iggie.”
Plus, she didn’t want to do anything to change Sironka’s mind. She didn’t know if Joseph’s descriptions about the couple from the visions had been wrong or irrelevant in the end. She sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Sironka about it. Then she wondered: could Boyd have made up the story about the visions, hoping to get her back? He’d said he would do anything.
Except she knew him better than to think that. No, he wouldn’t play games when it came to the Valley of Stars.
Connor was silent on the line before saying, “Tell me about the emissary.”
Since she didn’t know much, it didn’t take long.
“Okay, I don’t see the purpose of waiting either, but I don’t like this additional person, Michaela. Boyd should have mentioned it. It makes me wonder what else he’s been withholding.”
Michaela didn’t think it was a good time to share that Boyd was traveling with her engagement ring in his wallet. His wallet! Was he insane? What if a pickpocket had lifted it in Nairobi? Oh, her mind was running away with her.
“Look, your insistence on including Iggie made Boyd a little worried about you too,” she decided to share. “But everything is good now. Honestly, I think Iggie being away in Nairobi—”
“He’s not away, Michaela. He’s being held by Customs officials. As for—”
“All I’m saying is that Iggie isn’t the sort to inspire teamwork, Connor. He spent less than twenty-four hours with Uncle Arthur, Aunt Clara, and Hargreaves, yet he managed to rub them the wrong way.”
“I don’t care,” he said harshly. “I wanted him there as an extra set of eyes and ears, especially since you seem to wear rose-colored glasses where Boyd is concerned.”
“That’s not fair! I’m acting in Merriam Enterprises’ best interest, and I don’t appreciate you saying otherwise. Fieldwork requires a certain set of skills, Connor, and Iggie doesn’t have them.”
“We’re not going to agree on this. Call me from the village on the sat phone with an update. Do you have any idea where it is from your current location? I’ve got your camp pulled up on my screen right now.”
Had Flynn rigged that up for him? “I’m not sure. It’s in between the Loita Hills and the Sekenani Valley.”
“Like that means anything to me,” he said with a sigh. “All right, just be careful, okay? I don’t like the idea of your guide being some Maasai warrior. I imagine he’s taking you to a place with even more warriors.”
“Maasai warriors are some of the best warriors remaining in the world, Con,” she said, purposefully misunderstanding his worry. She doubted Connor would feel better hearing Aunt Clara was going to make Sironka a scarf or something, although it was completely charming.
“If that were true, they wouldn’t have lost to the British.”
He was being rude—she’d blame it on his fatigue. “I don’t want to get into a debate over history, Connor. I need to go. We’re packing up camp. Aunt Clara and Uncle Arthur are doing great, by the way. Elders are much admired by the Maasai.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. The thought of you traveling with two eighty-year-olds, an equally old butler, a Maasai warrior, and your ex-boyfriend will make me fall asleep like a baby.”
Sometimes she wanted to sock him. “Goodbye, Connor.”
“Remember to call me with an update, and take care of yourself. I mean it. This new element makes me nervous. I’ve never given any thought to the kind of danger you might be in on these trips. I’m seriously re-thinking your scope of work. Goodbye.”
He hung up on her, and she stared at the phone. Re-thinking her scope of work? What in Hades was he talking about? Then it clicked. Corey had died on the job, and now he had danger on the brain.
“I’m coming out,” she yelled, exiting her tent. Sure enough, everyone else had packed up. Aunt Clara was sitting in the back seat of one of the Rovers, showing her knitting to Sironka, who sat next to her. Uncle Arthur was in the front passenger seat with Joseph in the driver’s position.
Boyd gave Michaela a pointed look. “Have a nice call?”
“Connor says nothing’s changed on the Iggie front. He’s still detained.”
“May I pack up your tent, Dr. Michaela?” Simon asked.
Nodding, she took a step toward him, intending to help. Boyd caught her arm. “Let him. How did Connor take the news?”
She didn’t plan on filling him in on the entire conversation. Some of it would only get his back up. “He wasn’t thrilled, but he gave us the green light to move on. I’m going to call him from the village.”
“Great! Anything to make Connor feel better. Did you tell him about us?”
She made a rude sound. “And what exactly would I tell him?”
His mouth tipped up. “That I’m going to protect the woman I intend to marry. He needn’t worry.”
She socked him. “Stop saying things like that. I’m in a quandary. How could you spring something like that on me? We’re supposed to be out here working, Boyd.”
“We are. And contrary to what you thought when we broke up, I do want to work with you. All the way.”
His words unsettled her even more because she knew he meant it to his bones.
“You’re driving with me today. Hargreaves is driving with Simon and Jaali.”
“But I don’t want to drive alone with you,” she said, hating the plaintive tone in her voice. “I want to go with Sironka so I can ask him about the valley.”
“He’s the one who suggested going with your aunt and uncle and Joseph,” Boyd said. “Seems he’s very taken with your family. Arthur is hoping to pepper him with questions, I imagine. Did you tell your aunt to bring red yarn or was that another incredible sign from the gods that everything was going to go well?”
A shadow fell over them, and she looked up to see an eagle fly overhead.
“Dr. Boyd! Dr. Michaela.” Joseph pointed to the sky. “That’s a black-chested snake eagle. A very rare sighting. He lives in my cousin’s forest. It’s another sign.”
“Boyd!” Aunt Clara called. “Sironka says that eagle eats lizards. Be sure Marvin is stored in his carrier. We’d hate to have him snatched up for lunch. You’ll have to show Sironka your gecko later. I’ve been telling him all about the snakes you had when you were a kid.”
Boyd seemed remarkably untroubled by that, given he was usually so reticent to share the story. He merely waved a hand at the Rover. “She’s a natural ambassador. I won’t have to tell Sironka anything by the time we make camp tonight. Now, I think we’ve had enough signs for one morning. Let’s go before the sky darkens or the sun eclipses.”
He was mostly kidding, she knew. She watched as Simon finished packing up her tent. She wouldn’t feel bad for not helping. “You’ve gotta respect the signs.”
“Oh, I respect them. Joseph,” he called out, “if you see an animal that means there’s to be a wedding, let me know.” He gave her a cheeky wink.
A wedding! She opened her mouth to give him a pithy response, but her mind went blank. Oh, no. Was it a bad sign if her brain was failing her?
“Let’s go, Mickey.” He pointed her in the direction of their Rover. “The Valley of Stars awaits.”
* * *
It was official. Clara Merriam Hale was living her best life.
The golden savannah was fading behind her as they drove into the greener hills of a valley whose name she couldn’t quite pronounce, and here she was sitting next to a well-muscled warrior who’d asked her to knit something for him. Thank goodness she’d brought the red yarn. Selecting which yarn to bring had been the most impossible part of packing for this trip, but something had guided her to choose the red. Now, her work was going to adorn a bona fide warrior. Pinch her.
She patted Arthur on the shoulder so he’d know she was feeling a bit smug.
He turned slowly in the seat, alerting her to his discomfort. She patted him again in sympa
thy. Who’d known the hills would be even bumpier than the savannah?
“How long until we reach your village?” she asked Sironka, who was looking out across the land. The regal line of his jaw was compelling, as was the strong bridge of his nose. Would it be rude to ask if he’d ever killed a lion? She knew from her reading it was a rite of passage for a Maasai warrior. When she thought about it, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She’d feel bad for the lion, even though she understood their tribe felt they were honoring the lion with the hunt.
“As long as it takes,” Sironka replied.
She heard Arthur bark out a laugh.
“Arthur always says that,” she explained. “Apparently, he must have some Maasai blood I didn’t know about.”
“We would be honored to have Mr. Hale in our tribe,” Sironka said. Although she’d made numerous requests for him to use their first names, he continued to refer to them formally. “He is rather like an old lion. Still hungry even after roaming the land all these years.”
This time she laughed. “It’s like you know him, Sironka. Now, what else can you tell us about your village?”
“Everyone is looking forward to your visit,” Sironka said. “We have been waiting a long time, but now the time is right. There will be a great celebration when you arrive.”
She wondered what constituted a long time. “That sounds wonderful, Sironka. Tell me about your mother and father. They are both medicine people?”
“Healers, you say in English. Laibon.”
She repeated the word, and he nodded.
“My father is also the oloiboni,” he said, folding his hands in his lap. “The spiritual leader, although this sometimes amuses my mother. She’s as much oloiboni as my father, but the Maasai are patriarchal. My tribe less so than most.”
Arthur turned around in his seat, his journalistic keenness evident in his blue eyes. “In what way, Sironka?”