The Guardian (A Wounded Warrior Novel)

by Anna del Mar

  My answer could have something to do with the sign next to the gate. Pacha Ziwa Children’s Home, it said, in English. I looked around and realized for the first time that a sizable group of people had gathered about us. There were quite a few villagers standing at the gate, waiting for news that would explain our mad dash through the center of town. There were also many children and a few adults clustered about the courtyard, staring at us with a measure of curiosity.

  “What’s this about?” Claudette looked down on us, brow wrinkled in confusion. “Are you two being chased by a family of cheetahs?”

  “No cheetahs,” Matthias rasped. “Just a leisurely run.”

  Leisurely run my ass. But his explanation seemed to satisfy the villagers, who moseyed on. The kids lunged at Matthias from every direction calling his name, crowding around him and hugging his legs, attempting to scale him, pleading for his attention.

  “You’re late.” Claudette perched her hands on her hips, clearly not happy with Matthias. “Couldn’t you’ve gone running later?”

  “Jade couldn’t wait.” Matthias picked up a kid with one arm and reached down to steady another kid climbing up his leg. “Apparently, she self-combusts if she doesn’t get her run.”

  Claudette’s reproving glare fell on me.

  “Who’s Jade?”

  A woman I hadn’t seen before stalked out of the building. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, with long black hair, exotic black eyes and a smooth, porcelain complexion that reminded me of a Lladro figurine. She wore a designer pair of blue jeans and a fashion scarf that cost some bucks. Perhaps in part because of her expensive designer look, she looked out of place in the small village.

  “Oh, wait.” Her eyes shifted from Matthias to me. “Is this the founder of Mission Protect, the newest Nat Geo Explorer?”

  Matthias put down the children. “How do you know about her?”

  “Everybody knows.” The woman’s stare lingered on me, a sweep of shrewd eyes that found fault with my current, sweaty state and brought a condescending smile to her lips. “Last night, at the Canyon Side Lodge, they showed some of her reports. Word is, she likes to irk grizzlies.”

  Matthias glanced at me. The look in his eyes told me he didn’t like what he’d just heard. He waded through a sea of little children like Gulliver in Lilliput. When he made it to the stairs, Zeke handed him his bush shirt.

  “Mei Cheng, this is Jade Romo.” Matthias shoved his brawny arms into the sleeves and pulled the shirt over his shoulders. “Jade, this is Mei.”

  I could’ve swore there was a warning hidden somewhere in Matthias’s tone, or at least a measure of reluctance. But when I probed his face, I found only blankness there, the bland mask of a trained operator.

  The woman gave me another look before she totally blew me off.

  “Matthias, darling,” she said in her refined accent, transforming his name into something foreign, exotic, and delicious to pronounce, Mat-eeese. “Do you need a little time to clean up?”

  The way she stressed the last two words betrayed the fact that she would’ve gladly helped with the task. Her greedy eyes caressed Matthias’s body. I had a vision of Matthias, gorgeous and naked, standing under a cascade of water in my outdoor shower. Then I saw Mei too and her soapy hands sliding over Matthias’s body. The mere idea of those two together—in my goddamn shower—had me bristling like a freaking porcupine.

  “Let me help you with that.” Mei took over, buttoning his shirt, long manicured hands crawling up his chest like crafty spiders. “What on earth happened to you?

  “Jade happened to me.” Matthias’s gaze lingered on me for a second too long before he cut me off cold turkey. “But it’s all good now.” He beamed his smile on Mei, an intimate, roguish grin that did nothing to appease my bristles. “I apologize for my tardiness.”

  “Apologies accepted.” Mei wove her manicured hands around Matthias’s arm and fluttered her long eyelashes. “I have a great appreciation for sweat as the byproduct of athletic endurance.”

  Seriously? I suppressed the urge to snort. Subtlety wasn’t Mei’s strong suit and her signals could never be confused for anything other than sexual innuendo.

  “Did you forget you promised me a personal tour?” she asked Matthias.

  “Let’s do it.” Matthias took her elbow and gestured toward one of the buildings. “Claudette will explain how it all works.” He turned to Claudette. “Will you join us, please?”

  “Gladly,” Claudette gave a genteel nod and sauntered along with Mei and Matthias.

  I was flabbergasted. Before my very eyes, Matthias had turned into a pot of charm. His sudden conversion threw me for a loop. Gone was the rugged game warden, the competitive SEAL I’d raced just moments ago. In was this other person I’d never met before. I couldn’t figure out why, but my mind was alerting like a bloodhound on a scent trail.

  As an afterthought, when Mei wasn’t looking, Matthias caught Zeke’s eye and motioned his head in my direction. Great. Just great. I knew when I was being passed around like a hot potato. Or a can of toxic waste.

  “Cool off,” Zeke counseled wisely. “To run is not necessarily to arrive. Drink your water.”

  Good idea. I wafted down a long draft and dried my mouth with the back of my arm. I’d raced Matthias but Zeke was right. My mind had arrived nowhere helpful. “Who is that woman?”

  “Mei Cheng?” Zeke said. “She’s the Chinese cultural attaché in Tanzania.”

  She was as powerful as she was beautiful, ageless in that overly perfect way that gave away a preoccupation with aging. A very well- preserved forty-something, my true mom would say. And a freaking cougar, chasing so overtly after Matthias.

  “Are they an item?” I asked.

  “You’d have to ask Matthias.” Zeke forgot to look me in the eye as he fiddled with the Land Rover’s keys. “She’s a frequent visitor to the Serengeti and an occasional patron to some of the local causes. A donation must be at stake, because Matthias arranged for this tour of the orphanage.”

  An orphanage. Right. That’s what this place was. It made sense, given the abundance of kids and the swing sets in the play yard. I took in my surroundings. I’d been to many orphanages and refugee camps during my travels. By all measures, this was one of the nicest ones I’d seen, clean, safe, and organized. The buildings were solid block, with poured concrete floors, a luxury out here. There was obviously running water, modern plumbing, and a soccer field. There was even a little whitewashed schoolhouse in the corner, although judging by the kids playing outside, it wasn’t being used at the moment. I knew the kind of effort and resources it would take to build and maintain a place like this. Impressive.

  Zeke opened the Rover’s trunk. “Want to help me unload?”

  “Sure,” I said. “What are we unloading?”

  “Supplies.” Zeke handed me a giant box of powdered milk, stacked yet another box on top of the first, loaded himself up, and motioned me to follow him into the building that housed the dining hall and the indoor kitchen.

  “Who sponsors this place?” I asked as we went back for the huge boxes of diapers.

  “Officially, the station does,” Zeke said, leading me through the dormitories, where a neat row of cots and cribs covered with mosquito nets lined up against the wall. “Claudette is the orphanage’s director, but this is really Matthias’s project. He started it two years ago when he first came to the reserve. He spends his free time here and makes sure these kids have everything they need.”

  Matthias had started an orphanage? The warmth spread from my belly and tingled all over my body. I was blown out of the water. Looking around, the place looked spotless and the children happy. Holy cow. My admiration for him ratcheted up. My curiosity spiked too.

  “Zeke?” I said while we stacked the diaper boxes in the supply closet. “Have you ever wondered why an ex-SEAL from Montana takes a supremely dangerous game warden job at a research station and starts an orphanage?”

  “Me? No, I do
n’t wonder,” Zeke said. “Wherever a man goes to dwell, his character goes with him. I know Matthias cares.”

  “You seem so sure of that.” I narrowed my eyes on Zeke. “Care to tell me why?”

  He met my stare and held it. “If you want to know, ask the right person. Me, I don’t tell other people’s tales.”

  Other people’s tales. Was there a backstory here I wasn’t aware of? Was there a reason why Matthias cared more than pretty much anyone else I knew? Zeke wasn’t going to tell me. I was back to square one.

  I helped Zeke unplug a stuffed toilet in the bathhouse and rewire a ceiling fan in the dining hall. A few girls huddled around a table, working on some sort of a craft project, stealing glances and giggling every time I smiled in their direction. Through the large, open windows, I caught glimpses of Matthias and Mei, walking the grounds. My stomach churned. She looked completely engrossed in him and he? He wasn’t looking away from her very often.

  A cry came from the kitchen. In unison, the girls jumped from the benches to the top of the table.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Snake.” Zeke hopped down from the ladder, pulled out the machete from his belt, and headed toward the kitchen. “Want to help me catch it?”

  In one leap, I joined the girls on top of the table. I’d volunteered to fight the Taliban, ISIS and Al-Qaida. But a snake? “No, thank you.”

  “Stay here then,” Zeke said, chuckling. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time,” I called after him as he disappeared through the door.

  I turned around and faced the girls, who stared at me with huge grins on their faces. A young girl of maybe six or seven tugged on my tank top. Speaking at brain-rattling speed, she pointed at my head. She was like a miniature doll chiseled of precious ebony. I could already see the gorgeous woman she would one day become in the symmetry of her striking features. But right now she was still a kid, and with the exception of Hannah’s children—my godchildren—I was as terrified of kids as I was of snakes.

  “Sorry, kiddo.” I shrugged. “I have no clue of what you’re saying.”

  “Kanoni wants to see your earrings,” the older girl of the lot said, another beauty of maybe thirteen or fourteen years old.

  “Oh. Well.” I cleared my throat and called on my courage. “I suppose I could do that.”

  I knelt down on the table and let little Kanoni examine my jade elephants. The other girls settled around me, sitting with their legs crossed, Indian style. They went back to working on their craft project, chatting and giggling, but they kept eyeing me expectantly.

  Children were such a mystery to me, small and delicate, stuck in a total state of dependence. Every time I saw a kid, I was reminded of the neglected, defenseless little girl I’d been, of the power everyone else had had over me. Sometimes, when I was around kids, I worried I was going to say the wrong thing or hug them too tightly and snap a bone or something. Worse, I feared I could break the little ones, kind of like my bio-mother had broken me. But Kanoni, she wasn’t afraid of me. Her little fingers tugged at my earrings, pretending the elephant was walking on the side of my face, grinning and talking in her high-pitch voice.

  “Kanoni thinks your earrings are beautiful,” the older girl translated.

  “They certainly make for a conversational piece.” I made an effort to be friendly. “Your English is awesome. What’s your name?”

  “Adisa.” She pointed at the third girl. “Tari.”

  “Me, Kanoni.” The little girl curled her wrist and tapped her bunched forefingers over her thumb, chirping like a bird.

  “Her name means little bird,” Adisa explained.

  “How pretty,” I said. “I’m Jade. How did you learn to speak English?”

  “I keep up.”

  It was such a strange thing to say. “Keep up with what?”

  “Kim.” She grinned, an explosion of white. “You know, Kim? From Keeping Up with the Kardashians?”

  I’d never been hot on reality TV and I’d only watched that show in passing. All that drama for no reason bored me to death. Little did I know that one day a silly reality show would bridge continents. Go figure. We lived in strange times.

  My gaze fell on the little piles of colored beads on the table. “What are you girls doing?”

  “We make pretty bracelets.” Adisa picked out a red glass bead from her carefully sorted pile and threaded it onto her needle. “Then we sell. On the website. We make money.”

  I did remember seeing bracelets like these on the reserve’s website. Five bucks would feed a kid over here for a month. I grabbed my camera. “Do you mind if I take pictures?”

  The girls nodded and smiled. I started to take pictures, both stills and video, as Adisa deftly fitted the beads between the warps and ran the needle through them once more to set a new colorful row in place. Hannah was going to love these. She’d do something wonderful with the pictures to help out the kids.

  After a while, I spotted Mei in the courtyard, getting into a black, chauffeur-driven Suburban. Matthias closed the door of the car and watched her leave. Finally. This tour of his had lasted long enough. As soon as the Suburban drove through the gates, he made for the little schoolhouse. For a guy who always moved with purpose, his steps looked stiff.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said to the girls.

  I jumped down from the table and made my way out of the dining hall, mindful of sneaky snakes. I stole around the little schoolhouse and watched from the threshold as, once inside, Matthias limped across the deserted building. His actions felt furtive to me, so it was only after he stepped through the back door that I followed inside, stealing around the benches and the tables that furnished the cheerfully decorated classroom. This is silly, Jade. True, I wanted to learn more about him, but why was I suddenly intent on spying on Matthias Hawking?

  Matthias

  I made my way to the schoolhouse, trying not to limp. Suck it up, Hawking. I kept my steps even and my pace steady, greeting the kids playing in the courtyard, forcing a smile to my face. Pain was par for the course, the price of living.

  Why the hell had I decided to race Jade? I’d been unprepared, wearing the wrong prosthesis and exhausted after three days without sleep. I’d wanted to make the jog a teaching opportunity, to break through to her in a way she might understand the dangers that lurked beyond the obvious.

  But Jade, she had a way of defying me, of teasing and provoking my most primal instincts, of making me wanna be more, better, stronger. She gave each second her all and her passion filled the hollow in me with joy and thrill I hadn’t felt since…that day. Chasing after Jade, busting out my lungs and demanding every ounce of power from my body, I’d felt free again, unfettered and full with purpose. Christ, just being with her made me feel like my old self.

  I made it up the steps and into the schoolhouse, ignoring the warmth oozing down my leg. I’d had to deal with the misery for the entire tour of the orphanage, as we walked from one building to the other, up and down stairs and across the soccer field. There had been moments when I’d seriously wanted to sit down. But I’d trudged on, ’cause that’s what you did when you trained for mental toughness and you lived in a cage of secrets. You played the game and you didn’t let on. You kept your cards under your sleeves and never showed weakness.

  Mei seemed impressed with the facilities and promised to deliver on a hefty donation from her government, money that could build us a new dormitory and pay for more teachers. She’d asked a lot of questions about the kids, but also about the reserve, and more casually, about the herds. I’d told her exactly what I wanted her to know. Now I just had to watch and wait to see where the info would turn up.

  Mei was a beautiful woman, sophisticated and refined, highly educated and intelligent. She was also shrewd as hell, not to mention a consummate flirt. We’d had our moments, and there was no denying there was some pleasure in going through the motions with Mei. Even though her interest in me was flattering—n
ot to mention highly convenient—I’d arranged Claudette’s presence to serve as a buffer. For the moment, I needed to slow things down, figure Mei out, flesh out the trust thing. Christ, the things I did for the mission.

  I went into the small utility patio tucked inside the palisade at the back of the schoolhouse. I swallowed a grunt of pain as I bent my sore knee and took a seat on the stool that the kids called the “boo-boo chair.” Wedged between the clean water barrel and the first aid cabinet mounted on the wall, the seat was a busy workstation during school hours. How many scraped elbows, scuffed knees, paper cuts, and crocodile tears had I taken care of on this stool?

  As soon as I took my weight off my leg, my body relaxed in gratitude. Scooping clean water from the barrel, I washed the blood off my pants. Then I folded up the hem and examined my calf, where the prosthesis attached below the knee. No way around it. I’d had my fun and now I had to pay.

  I dug my teeth in my lip, pressed the release button, and slid off the prosthesis, the sock, and the liner to reveal my blunted stump. It throbbed in all of its ugly glory, bloodied and swollen. Jesus Christ. This is what I got from being an arrogant dick and thinking I could beat Jade at her sport.

  The smirk curving my lips surprised me. Cripple and all, I’d given her a run for her money. Yeah, I was an ass, but hell, I’d kept up with her, with the wonder of her gorgeous, formidable, and exquisitely shaped legs, with the might of her lungs and the power of her strong will. The smile widened on my face.

  Hawking, you fool, cool it. A line of blisters had formed on my stump, where the prosthesis had dug in my flesh. The constant hammering had broken the skin and tore into the muscle, carving an angry-looking sore on my calf. I dipped a cup into the barrel and, pouring water over the sore, cleansed it thoroughly. No need to add infection to my problems. The water dissolved the crusty blood and dripped to the ground with a quiet patter.

  With the wound clean, I opened the first aid cabinet, picked out some gauze, and doused the sore with antibiotic ointment before I packed and bandaged the wound. It wasn’t the first time this happened, so I was well-practiced. I’d just finished cleaning the liner and was about to put it on when my senses prickled. I was being watched.