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  He sighed. Monday would be spent with the insurance agent.

  He attempted to get comfortable. Around two o'clock, he drifted into a restless sleep. The sounds of banging woke him.

  He stood, forgetting that his artificial leg sat on the side of the bed, and fell against a chair with a hard thud. Groaning aloud, he tried to right himself when the light flashed on.

  “Jack? Are you okay?” asked Raylyn as she rushed to his side.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m fine, but I thought I heard a noise.”

  They listened. A thumping echoed above. Jack reached for his prosthesis. Raylyn prepared to help him, but he frowned, and she backed away.

  “I’ll check and see what’s going on.”

  “I’m going with you,” she said.

  “I think you should wait here.”

  “If you think I’m going to be left in some strange place while you traipse through the hotel, then you’re wrong.”

  “Fine.” The prosthesis attached, he gained his balance. At the door, he said, “Well, come on then.”

  Robe clutched tight around her slender frame, she followed him into the hallway. Other guests stood in front of open doors. Officers descended the stairwell and dragged a rough-looking character into the hallway. Guests moved into their rooms, and Raylyn hid behind Jack.

  The spectacle ended, and the guests muttered about the inconvenience of being disturbed.

  “What do you think that was about?” asked Raylyn as his door closed behind them.

  He ran his hand over his head. “I don’t know, but we should let the professionals handle it while we get some sleep.”

  “I guess so.” She gnawed on her lip as she crossed to her side.

  Could they have found the man who stole Raylyn’s necklace? His heart raced in his chest. He’d never go back to sleep now.

  ****

  The clock alarm blared, and Raylyn rolled onto her side and slapped the snooze button. Nine minutes later, the music played again, and she groaned, lifted her hand, and aimed.

  “Might as well get up.”

  She yawned and stretched her hands over her head. “Can’t I sleep another hour?” The question came out like a childish whine.

  “Well, if you want to leave the hotel in your pajamas.”

  She looked down at herself and jerked the bedspread to her neck.

  Jack laughed. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”

  “Or?’

  “Or, I’ll come back in and help you.”

  Raylyn gasped, and he chuckled as he entered his own room. The door clicked shut, and she jumped from the bed, running. It was the quickest shower she’d taken in her life.

  The door opened as she buttoned the last button on her shirt. He leaned against the door’s facing and crossed his ankles.

  “Ready for breakfast?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  She followed him to the hotel’s ground floor. The dining area was filled with guests. One empty table sat in the corner, and Jack commandeered a seat and offered to hold their place until she retrieved her food.

  Raylyn hurriedly filled a plate from the buffet and carried it to their table. “Your turn.”

  He leaned over and planted a quick peck on her cheek. Stunned by his sudden public display of affection, she dropped her jaw. She breathed deeply and forced her mouth to close.

  Jack returned and slid into his seat. “I’ll be sorry to leave.”

  She studied her plate.

  “If we leave early enough, maybe we can stop at the waterfalls.”

  “If you want to,” she said taking a bite of tortillas and eggs and not looking at him.

  He frowned and lowered his fork. “Is something wrong?”

  She shook her head.

  A television that hung on the wall blared a warning signal. A waiter increased the volume.

  “Tropical storm Beatrice is headed toward Chiapas, Mexico, and the coastal town of Santa Cruz. It could turn into a Cat One hurricane before making landfall. This would mean sustained winds of eighty miles per hour…”

  The weatherman continued his speech, but the guests weren’t listening. Chairs scraped the floor as people fled.

  Jack consumed a couple of quick bites, clasped her hand, and drew her to her feet. “I guess we better follow the crowd.”

  Her food cooled on the table as they rushed upstairs, threw their belongings in a bag, checked out, and rushed to Manuel’s truck. Inside the cab, the radio tuned to the weather, Raylyn tensed. The report had interrupted their conversation.

  Jack drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Weather updates continued to filter over the airwaves.

  The truck protested as they ascended a hill. They crested the rise, and the truck’s motor spurted and died.

  Raylyn held onto the dashboard as Jack shifted the truck in neutral, and it rolled backward. He parked along an empty stretch of road. With a pumping motion, he attempted to set the emergency brake.

  He was out of the cab and thrusting his pack on his back before she had time to gather her wits. Her door opened. “We need to move.”

  The strap of her shoulder bag over his head, he entered the swaying tree line. She ran after him. “Wait!”

  He slowed but didn’t stop as she jogged up beside him.

  “I think I saw a cabin a ways back. We’ll have to shelter there until the storm passes.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. He stopped and wiped her tears with the back of his knuckle. Without speaking, he started moving again.

  They reached a ramshackle cabin right as the sky darkened and the first fat drops of water fell. The rain changed to hail, echoing on the tin roof.

  Underneath the shelter of the porch, Jack rattled the locked door. The padlock jarred but didn’t open. He banged a rock against the metal until it broke.

  Raylyn leaned over the porch edge and studied the darkening sky.

  Jack caught a handful of her shirt. “Come on!”

  The wind whistled and howled as they entered and shut the door.

  ****

  The one-room cabin sported sagging cabinets and the framework of rotting furniture. No closet or interior room appeared for them to hide in.

  Jack’s promise to protect her weighed heavily on his mind. He picked the sturdiest wall and slid to the floor, patting an area next to him.

  “It’s not exactly the Taj Mahal, but it should do.” He hoped.

  “How did you even see this place?” said Raylyn as she joined him.

  “Used to looking for escape routes, I guess.”

  The wind picked up, and the windowpanes rattled. Tree limbs scraped and rubbed the outer hull of the cabin, and she snuggled to his side.

  He smoothed her hair. “When I was little we lived out west, and a tornado blew through. My father had never witnessed anything like it, and he huddled in the cellar. My mom, however, strolled into the cellar, closed the door, and whistled. He kept asking how she stayed calm during the storm, and she said because she couldn’t change the outcome.

  “That’s kind of how I made it through my military career, and that’s how we’ll make it through this.”

  She nodded.

  The wall rattled behind them, and the floor shook until they scooted out of their spot toward the middle of the room. Raylyn squeezed him, and he tried to think of a way to distract her. Maybe he could tell her a silly joke or sing some ridiculous song.

  He was saved from the task when she asked, “Why did you kiss me at breakfast?” He didn’t answer quickly enough, and she continued, “Sure I thought you were going to kiss me at the pool, before we were interrupted, but I still didn’t expect the kiss at breakfast and—“

  Gathering his wits, he interrupted, “Didn’t you like it?”

  “What?”

  “The kiss. Didn’t you like it?”

  She moved a stray hair behind her ear, and a rosy hue flushed her cheeks.
“Of course, I liked it.”

  “So you just didn’t like that I kissed you in front of other people?”

  “I-I didn’t say that.” She fiddled with the edges of her shirt.

  Jack enjoyed her discomfort over the issue and delighted in the distraction. “That means you don’t mind if I kiss you in public?”

  “I, well, I, don’t, hmm,” she stuttered then stopped talking.

  “Because as much as I like kissing you, it might be hard to contain my affections to only our private time. With you working at the clinic and me helping Manuel with the carpentry work, we might not have as much alone time. But if—“

  “Now you’re pulling my leg,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Why would you think that?”

  A flash of lightning rent the air, and thunder boomed close by. Traumatic events assaulted the earth. Trees doubled over and snapped, objects flew through the air, and landed against the house, yet she continued her conversation as if all was normal, and Jack encouraged it.

  She faced him. “Because if you felt that way, you would have acted on it before now.”

  “How?”

  “How?”

  “Yes, how would I have enacted my great plan of kissing you in public places before now?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe you would have—”

  “Kissed you at the hospital?”

  She gnawed on her lip.

  “Maybe I could have leaned over and kissed you when Alfonzo introduced us to one another.”

  She sighed and turned away.

  He shouldn’t goad her. The idea that he could have chased her down and kissed her at the gem festival in Sapphire Shoals had almost left his lips. They hadn’t ventured into that territory yet, and he wasn’t ready to do so now. Mentioning the hospital might turn out to be a major faux pa.

  He clasped her chin and made her face him. With his thumb, he outlined her lips. “Honestly, I did want to kiss you all those times, but I held back.”

  “Why?” she whispered when he released her.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know if you felt the same. Besides, a southern gentleman doesn’t force himself on a lady. The lady does the pickin’.”

  Her hand on the back of his neck, she drew him forward. Her hot breath struck his face, and his heart hammered against his chest.

  “I choose you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The storm raged. Jack relaxed his grip. Raylyn moved from his grasp and crawled to the window. Trees bent under the violent wind. Horrified, Raylyn watched as a limb lifted from the ground. Like a pointed spear being thrown, the object hurled toward the window.

  Frozen with fear, Raylyn remained rooted to the cabin floor. Warmth spread over her middle. Hauled against Jack’s chest, they collapsed to the floor. The pointed limb pierced the pane. The glass shattered. Jack rolled on top of her as shards sailed through the air and coated their prone forms.

  “Close your eyes and don’t move,” he yelled close to her ear.

  Sounds like him standing and shaking, glass clicking against the wooden planks, grunting, and other strange noises reached her hearing, but she complied.

  Touched by the warmth of his hand, Raylyn trembled violently. He helped her rise to a sitting position. She felt wind strike her flesh as he lifted her shirt and attempted to shake it.

  “You can open your eyes, now.”

  Jack’s jacket covered a gaping hole in the window. The tree limb that had invaded their sanctuary was nowhere to be seen.

  “I think you should stay away from the window from now on.”

  She lowered her head to agree and gasped. Dollops of blood dropped to the floor in a rhythmic pattern.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s just a scratch.”

  The blood soaked his shirt sleeve. She lifted it. The depth of the gash was concealed by blood. Muttering under her breath about the idiocy of men acting like they were always fine, she dug through her purse and found a first aid kit.

  Jack cringed but didn’t speak as she cleaned and dressed the wound. Thankfully, the cut was small and she was able to seal it with a bandage.

  “Will I live?” he asked, laughter tinged his voice.

  “Hmm, for now,” she said, responding in a joking tone.

  “I’m pleased to know I’ll live long enough to do this.”

  He cradled her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers with such passion her legs weakened. Her arms wound around his neck, she drew him closer, deepening the kiss.

  The world faded away. Seconds, minutes, hours could have passed while she stood in his arms.

  Jack drew back and planted tiny kisses on her closed eyelids then hugged her.

  “I won’t lose you again. I won’t. Even if I have to die to protect you.”

  Raylyn returned the embrace, afraid to speak and break the spell.

  ****

  Jack settled Raylyn next to him and wedged them in a corner of the cabin. The sky lightened, and the black clouds dispersed. They left the cabin with one goal in mind: return to the truck.

  The distant roar of ocean waves punctuated the otherwise-silent atmosphere. Tropical Storm Beatrice had devastated the land, leaving a path of downed trees and debris in her wake.

  Jack mentally kicked himself for leaving the hotel. The rash decision to hurry back to San Cristóbal and hopefully weather the storm there had placed Raylyn in harm’s way.

  Plagued with nagging worries about the truck’s condition, Jack plodded along in silence. Raylyn walked alongside him, maintaining the silence.

  They crested the next rise and exited the mangled tree line. The road was littered with broken limbs, downed trees, wooden planks, and car parts.

  Jack wished he could shelter Raylyn from possible loss of life, but he couldn’t. Besides, she had been privy to loss before.

  He squeezed her hand. “Stay close to me.”

  Up ahead, Manuel’s pale blue rusty truck sat. He’d parked it in the grass beside the road, but the storm had moved it to the other side. Pinned, the bed had a tree lying over the back. Jack tried to lift the obstacle, but it was too heavy.

  Raylyn climbed into the bed beside him, and they lifted together, but it was no use.

  “Are we stuck?” she asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “Ah, a truthful answer,” she said.

  “Hmm.” It would have been more truthful to say, Yes, we are most definitely stuck, but why dash all her hope.

  She jumped down and studied the littering debris. “This looks like part of a roof. Probably means someone lives close by. And they might have a radio or a way to call for help.”

  Picking a route, they set out. The first place they found had been abandoned by humans years ago and was now inhabited by tiny critters and large spiders. The next one was little more than a shell.

  Weary, Jack’s concern mounted. He would need to rest soon. His prosthetic sock needed to be changed for a dry one before he rubbed a blister that wouldn’t go away.

  The sun rode high in the sky, but the air cooled, the storm having lowered the temperature drastically.

  He fought the urge to shiver. He’d left his coat at their original cabin as the broken glass panes had shredded the exterior.

  Rounding a tree, Raylyn gasped. A group of people stepped from behind a row of bushes. They spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, and Jack struggled to translate. He held up his hand, and they slowed.

  “They were headed to an emergency shelter and want to know if we need help.”

  Raylyn shouted, “Si!”

  Escorted by the natives, Jack finally relaxed. Raylyn plodded beside him, speaking in disjointed Spanish and English to one of the women. The native pointed at him. He missed her words but not Raylyn’s response.

  “No. He is mi amigo.”

  Ah, just a friend. What would he have done if she’d called him her novio?

  “El es muy guapo.”

  Raylyn blushed as she nodd
ed in agreement that he was handsome. He puffed out his chest, and the woman laughed.

  The group of survivors broke through the trees into a clearing where several empty trucks waited.

  A man stood before the group. In accented English, he said, “These trucks will deliver us to Boca del Cielo. Please board.”

  Jack and Raylyn hung back. The leader approached. “Do you not wish to come?”

  “We need to reach San Cristóbal,” said Jack.

  The man shook his head. “No way. Too much destruction for many days. You come to Boca del Cielo.”

  “Señor, there are people dependent upon us in San Cristóbal. Is there no way?”

  “You come to Boca del Cielo and find driver. Si?”

  Reluctantly, they agreed and climbed aboard. Hay bales lined the sides of the truck bed. In front of the cab, crates rose as tall as Raylyn. Chickens squawked, and feathers flew into the air and coated them.

  Raylyn snickered as Jack plucked feathers from his mouth.

  “I must say I sense this is a turning point in our relationship,” she said, slapping feathers from her pant legs and picking them out of her hair.

  “You think so?”

  “If we can share this, we can share anything!”

  Jack was glad to hear it.

  ****

  “So, what do you think of our grand escape from peril?” asked Jack.

  “Humph, some escape. Leave a town where people are shooting at each other only to suffer through a hurricane. I would say your skills at picking a location need improvement.”

  “Yep, the relationship has hit its climax and started down the other side.”

  She laughed. “Now you’ll meet the real me, and you might not like what you find.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love everything I discover.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks, and Raylyn prayed for a new topic. The truck bounced along, swerving around obstacles. The hay bales shifted and sent Raylyn slamming into Jack. He steadied her.