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Her face fell ashen and her lips turned purple. “Oh, my God. It was him.”
“Who?”
“You call him Chad, but I know him as Rick. We met at the clinic, and we talked. That’s why I felt comfortable with him at the party. He went to get a pamphlet about naturopathic medicine his wife was taking—”
“He doesn’t have a wife. He lured you in.”
Her knees bent and she bent down to sit on the stone, shivering. “Why me?”
“His father’s dying wish was for an heir.”
“And he chose me? What the fuck? Was he gonna rape me back at Carly’s?”
I didn’t reply. She shuddered and pulled the towel tighter around her body.
“You have nothing to worry about now. He’ll never find you, and he’ll be behind bars by the time we return for the Gracie’s grand re-opening.”
“You make it all sound so easy, when I feel like my life is a complete mess.”
“It’s not a complete mess.” I took her hand and helped her off the rock. “You’re here with me, so that’s perfect. Now, tell me, Jane, how did you make coffee?”
She snickered. “I lit a fire and boiled water.”
“No, I mean, how did you light the fire? We have no matches.”
“Oh, that. With my glasses. I used them as a magnifying lens, and once the sun hit the paper and dry leaves, it was quick.”
Crafty.
“We have electricity. I just didn’t turn on the generators last night. This eco-lodge is solar powered and totally off the grid.”
“I don’t know what that means, but if it’s the new name for Tarzan’s home, then it works for me.”
“So I’m Tarzan now?”
“If I’m Jane, then you’re Tarzan.”
I shrugged a shoulder.“We’ll take the scooters down the village after you dress to pick up some matches and supplies. We can have breakfast there, because I’m starving.”
“Hunter, I’m gonna need tampons soon.”
“That may be a problem.”
“No, no, no. I must have tampons, or pads, at least.”
“Relax, Grace. I’m not gonna let you free-bleed, although that’s exactly what most women in the village do.”
“Maybe you should have chosen a different destination?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll make it work. Get dressed.”
I tidied the place and dressed as Grace changed into a pair of shorts and a tank. The black coffee she’d brewed tasted like home. We took the scooter down to the village, where I parked by the bakery.
Paula greeted us at the front of Abuela’s bakery.
“Cariño!” Her arms flew up in the air and swung around my neck. She kissed me on each cheek. “Dónde has estado? Te he echado de menos.”
“Buenos días, Abuela. I missed you as well.”
