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“Is she crazy, traveling outside the city?” Jordan wished Molly was there so he could strangle her himself. He was on his feet again, but didn’t remember standing. “She needs her head examined.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. Something’s got to be done.” He grinned. “And as far as I’m concerned, you’re the man to do it.”
“Me? What canIdo?” Jordan asked, although he was fairly sure he already knew the answer.
For the first time Jordan read a genuine smile in the older man’s eyes. “What can you do?” Ian repeated meaningfully. “Why, Jordan, you can go and get her yourself.”
* * *
It was the evenings Molly loved best, when the compound slept and the night slipped in. She sat outside on the veranda and absorbed the peaceful sounds, allowing them to soothe her exhausted body and spirit. The news from headquarters in the capital had arrived earlier that evening and it hadn’t been good. It never was. Each report, no matter where she was in the backcountry, seemed filled with dire warnings and threats. That evening’s communication had been no different, with a lengthy account of political unrest and the threatof a rebel attack. Headquarters asked that she and Dr. Morton be prepared to evacuate at a moment’s notice. The identical message came through on a regular basis and had long since lost its urgency. At the end of the week they’d return to Makua City, the same way they did every month.
The black stillness of night was filled with animal noises from the water hole outside the compound walls. The savanna was a refuge for the dwindling animal population. The drought had taken a dramatic toll on wildlife, just as it had on the people.
A week earlier Molly had seen a small herd of elephants tramping across the dry plain, stirring up a haze of red dust. They were moving, looking for a more abundant water supply, Molly guessed.
A hyena yipped in the night, and she smiled to herself. Additional sounds drifted toward her as the antelope and other beasts made their way to the water’s waning edge. Over time and with patience, Molly had become adept at identifying each species.
Leaning back in the white wicker chair, she stretched her arms and stared up into the heavens. The sky was illuminated with an incredible display of stars, but she would have traded her inheritance for the sight of a rain cloud.
Unfortunately the sky was clear. Molly couldn’t look into the night without experiencing a twinge of sadness. Somewhere, in a world far removed from her current life, were the husband she’d abandoned and the son she’d buried.
She tried not to think about either, because the memories produced a dull, throbbing pain. And pain wassomething she’d spent the past three years running away from. The gold wedding band on her finger felt like an accusation. She wasn’t even sure why she continued to wear it. Habit, she supposed, and to ward off anyone who might think she was interested in romance.
She heard familiar footsteps behind her.
“Good evening.” Molly greeted her associate. Dr. Richard Morton was well past the age of retirement, short, bald and lovable, but he didn’t know how to stop working, not when the need remained so great. Molly, who was too thin, stood nearly a head taller. With her short blond hair and deep blue eyes, she’d caused a minor sensation with the local children.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” Molly asked her friend. They both should have fallen into bed exhausted.
“I haven’t figured that out myself,” he said, settling into the chair next to her. “Something’s in the air.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve got a feeling about this last message from Makua City.”
“You think we should leave?” Richard couldn’t have surprised her more. Her companion had never revealed any sign of being anxious about their safety in the past, even when the radio messages had sounded far more urgent.
Richard shrugged and wiped his face. “I don’t know, but something tells me this time is different.”
This past week had been hectic with an outbreak of influenza, and they’d both worked grueling hours, often as many as eighteen a day.
“You’re just tired,” Molly suggested, searching for a plausible reason for his qualms.
“We both are,” Richard murmured and gently patted her hand. “Go to bed and we’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Molly followed his advice, taking a few extra moments to stroll through the pediatric ward. The nurse on duty smiled when she saw her. Molly’s walk through the children’s ward had become a ritual for her.
Moving silently between cribs, Molly stopped to check that each child was breathing. This was the legacy SIDS had given her. It was as though she was afraid that terrible scene would replay itself with another child in another time and place. That fear never left her.
Once she was assured all was well, Molly made her way into her own tiny room, not bothering to turn on the light. She undressed and climbed into bed, between the cool sheets. Closing her eyes, she dreamed of what her life would’ve been like if Jeffrey had lived.
* * *
“Sorry I’m late,” Jordan said, kissing Lesley’s cheek before pulling out the chair and sitting down at the restaurant table across from her. Each time Jordan was with Lesley, he was struck by her charm and beauty. “How long did I keep you waiting this time?” he asked as he unfolded the pink linen napkin and placed it on his lap.
“Only a few minutes.”
He was half an hour late, and knowing Lesley she’d arrived five minutes early, yet she didn’t complain. This was one of the things he liked about her. She understood his preoccupation with work, because as an architect she was often deeply involved in a project herself.
