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Ann frowned. “I’ll take the offer, but what makes you think you’re leaving this terminal without me?” For better or worse, she had made a decision to stay—because of her feelings toward Mike. She was scared to death, but she had to take the risk. Her mind screamed at her that she was a fool, but her heart was expanding with such joy over her decision that she felt breathless. Inwardly, she knew she was making the right choice, regardless of her dark, haunting past.
Scowling, Houston halted abruptly and turned to face her. There was surprise written on his features. “You made it very clear you didn’t want to be down here with me,” he began slowly, his voice low with raw feeling. Tony almost dying had left Mike more vulnerable than usual. He was afraid to believe what he’d just heard. His heart pounded briefly to underscore his need for Ann. His fear. Mike searched her calm features. Her eyes shone with hope. The fear was still there, but it had lessened. What was going on? Stunned by her words, he rasped, “Or was I hearing wrong?”
“You didn’t hear wrong, Mike. I changed my mind, that’s all. You got a problem with that?” Ann held his flaring look of surprise. She felt an avalanche of that powerful energy deluge her momentarily. She remembered how, when she was bagging Antonio, she’d seen the awe in people’s faces as Mike worked over the man. All eyes had been riveted on him as he struggled to save his friend’s life.
There was no question in her mind why Houston was not only a leader, but one that few people, including herself, could resist. Even if it was dangerous to her wounded heart. She was too afraid, still, to admit for sure why she agreed to stay on. Only time would tell, and another six weeks would hopefully yield the answer she was searching for.
Her mouth twisted wryly. “This is probably the sorriest decision I’ll ever make, Houston, but I’m sticking it out down here for six weeks. With or without you. I honor Morgan’s commitments. I go where he sends me.” She saw hope burning fiercely in Mike’s eyes, and more…much more….
Mike just stared at her for a moment. Here was the confident, gutsy woman he knew lived inside her, but who he’d rarely seen. The question why are you staying? was almost torn from him, but he forced the words back down. Whether Ann knew it or not, he had a powerful, ongoing connection with her. He sensed a lot more about her than she realized. He knew she was scared, but he also sensed her feelings for him—feelings that had existed all along but that she’d refused to share with him. Now, for whatever reason, she was doing that. Euphoria robbed Mike momentarily of words. Was it possible that she was going to allow their relationship to grow? The thought was heady. Wild. Full of promise. At the same time, he felt full of fear for an uncertain future. Those he cared for died. She would die, too. No, he had to keep his distance. He had to protect her from himself at all costs. His whole life was committed to killing Eduardo Escovar. Mike was in a death spiral dance with the drug lord and he had no room for a woman in his life. Especially a woman like Ann Parsons. Another part of him, one that surprised the hell out of him, reveled in her decision to remain with him in Peru, regardless.
Ann watched a slow grin crawl across his face. Houston had such a strong, chiseled mouth. A beautiful mouth, she admitted. One that she wanted to feel against her lips again and again. For whatever reason, she felt bolder than she had in a long time. Maybe seeing Antonio almost die had ripped away something inside her, made her realize life was precious and should be lived in the moment, not hidden in some dark closet of fear…. Chagrined, Ann cut off the thoughts and feelings that seem to grow like grass whenever she was around the charismatic army officer.
“Well,” she challenged, her voice husky, “are you going to stand there gawking or are you going to buy me that espresso you promised?”
Snapping into action, Houston slid his hand around her upper arm and guided her forward. “No, ma’am, I’ll buy you that well-deserved cup of espresso.” He felt edgy with fear. He was raw with wanting. Wanting her. Breath-stealing elation raced through him as Ann strode at his side. This time she didn’t seem to mind his hand on her arm. Indeed, it was as if she liked it there. But Houston didn’t fool himself. They’d just been through a very intense life-and-death situation. He found it normal that medicos automatically drew close to one another for emotional support after a crisis was over. It was only human, he warned himself. Still, his fingers tingled wildly as he felt the slip and slide of Ann’s light wool blazer against the white silk of her blouse, the firmness of her flesh beneath it. He reveled in the pleasurable sensation, feeling once again like a greedy beggar taking whatever crumbs she’d unknowingly thrown out to him.
Had Antonio’s heart attack triggered her own need to live life more fully? To possibly reach out to him? Grinning recklessly, laughter rumbling up from his chest, he said, “This has been one wild ride so far, Dr. Parsons, and the day is young yet….”
She raised one brow and glanced up at him as they walked. “I give you that,” she replied, her pulse speeding up. The undisguised happiness in Mike’s eyes affected her, left her aching to kiss him, to feel his hands slide around her torso as he pulled her uncompromisingly against his body. She longed to experience his sweet assault upon her senses once again, and it almost overwhelmed her.
When Mike glanced down at her, he realized in that split second that Ann had dropped her guard, because she was grinning, too. There was bright color in her cheeks, and she looked damn beautiful when she blushed. Instantly, she turned away to avoid his eyes. But not even that could mar Houston’s happiness at her decision to stay in Peru.
To hell with it. Mike threw all caution aside. “Come here….” he murmured huskily as he drew Ann out of the traffic of the busy terminal. Backing her against the wall, he leaned close to her. In her eyes he read the need she felt for him, and registered in every fiber of his being. The connection between them was as palpable as the feel of his fingers as he grazed the slope of her flushed cheek.
“I need you,” he rasped, placing his hand against her cheek and guiding her face upward. The driving need to kiss her and the need he saw in her eyes made him let down his own guard for this one, exquisite moment. He saw her eyes widen momentarily, heard her breath hitch. He sensed her emotional response, and it felt damn good washing through him. Smiling tenderly down at her as he lightly brushed her parting lips with his, he saw the fear in her eyes dissolve. Yes, she wanted this as much as he did.
For one heated moment out of time, all the terminal sounds, the people’s voices, faded from Ann’s awareness. All she’d longed for moments ago was happening. Somehow, Mike had known she needed him. It was all so crazy. So mixed up. Yet as she lifted her chin and felt his strong mouth settle upon her lips, nothing had ever felt so right. So pure. So devastatingly beautiful. His strong arm moved around her back and she felt him pull her against him. There was no mistaking his gesture; it was clearly that of a man claiming his woman.
Her lashes swept downward and the ache inside her intensified as his mouth skimmed hers. How good he tasted! She inhaled his very male scent into her quivering nostrils, slid her hands upward against his barrel chest, her fingers digging convulsively against the fabric of his shirt, marveling in the strength of his muscles tightening beneath her exploration. His mouth slid surely against her lips, rocking them open even farther, his tongue thrusting boldly into her mouth. She gave a moan of sweet surrender as she lost herself in the fiery, hungry mating. All that existed in that moment was Mike, his maleness, his tender domination of her as a woman yielding to him in almost every way possible. Oh, how stupid she had been not to give herself to him sooner!
His mouth moved possessively and she responded just as hungrily and boldly to his dizzying assault. With him, she felt a primal wildness she’d never felt with any man. He brought out her earthiness, her need to be her untamed, untrammeled self. His hand slid behind her head, holding her, trapping her so he could taste her even more deeply. The sweet hotness and longing built between her thighs as she felt him grind his hips demandingly against hers. There was no mistaking his need of her. Ann felt urgency and frustration. Her fingers opened and closed spasmodically against his thickly corded neck. She couldn’t get enough of him and drowned in the splendor of his tender assault upon her.
Ann wanted the hot, branding kiss, the sweet, unspoken promise between them to last forever. As Houston began to ease his mouth from hers, she cried out internally, not wanting to cease contact with him in any way. Yet she knew they must. She was sure they were making a spectacle of themselves in the corridor. People were staring at them but for once, Ann didn’t care. Mike had somehow dissolved all her fears, her need to be proper and prudish out in public. He tore away her doctor’s facade and stripped her naked, revealing her hot, womanly core of primitive needs and desires. As she looked dazedly up into his narrowed, gleaming eyes, she had never felt so protected or desired.
His face was alive with feelings—for her. Ann saw it in his burning look, his mouth only inches from her own as he stood over her, his arm continuing to press her tightly against him. She tasted him on her lips. She felt the masculine hardness of him against her abdomen and her own heated response to his hunger. Never had Ann felt more alive than now. Never. Her breath was shallow and gasping. She tried to speak.
“No…” Houston rasped thickly, “don’t think for once, Ann. Just feel. Feel!” he ordered, and captured her glistening lips one more time.
Sinking against him, her knees like jelly due to his renewed assault on her senses, Ann felt the world skid to a dizzying halt. Only Mike and she existed. She no longer cared what anyone thought as she held him tightly against her, her breasts hard against his chest. Their hearts were pounding; she could feel his as if it were inside her. The sensation was shockingly beautiful and one she’d never experienced before. The sandpaper quality of his beard against her cheek, his hot, moist breath, the taste and power of him as he grazed her lips repeatedly, almost teasingly, left her aching painfully. She wanted to feel him inside her, filling her, taking her, making her his in every conceivable way. Whatever fear had held her was gone now, and in its place, a fierce desire for Mike welled up, surging through her like a tidal wave.
Gradually, ever so gradually, Houston forced himself to ease back from Ann’s lips. Lips made of the wild honey he’d found only in the jungles of Peru. Honey that was so sweet it made him dissolve beneath her searching, innocent mouth. There was no question he needed her. None. And as he opened his eyes and stared down into her dazed blue-gray ones, he knew she needed him, too. She was trembling with need of him. But so was he. He regretted kissing her here in the terminal. Anywhere else would have been better than here. The painful knot in his lower body attested to the poor choice of location. He wanted to love her thoroughly, to indelibly print his essence within her. Wanted so badly to claim her and make her his woman it was nearly his undoing. The fierceness of his desire for Ann was far more than just sexual, because he was in touch with every subtle essence within her—from her emotions to her spirit. Ann didn’t know that, but he knew she could feel his bond with her as much as he did. That much was clear in the awe he saw reflected in her eyes, the questions about what she was feeling.
“Shh,” he whispered, grazing his thumb across her wet lips, “just feel, Ann. Just feel…. It’s real…all of this is real, I promise you. You aren’t imagining anything.” He closed his eyes and rested his brow against hers, letting himself sink back into that invisible connection that he’d allowed to fully form between them. Once Ann could talk to him about her feelings and openly confide in him, he vowed to tell her all that had happened to him in the jungle. Another part of him told him he was crazy for allowing her to get close to him. Did he want to put her in that kind of danger? How could he? But Ann would have to know the truth very soon. She had to make her own decision about whether he was worth desiring or not.
Easing away, Houston cupped her shoulders and gently moved her away from him. Ann’s face was flushed, her eyes soft and filled with desire—for him. Never had he felt stronger…or more protective. His mouth curved ruefully.
“Would you like to go freshen up in the ladies’ room?”
Swaying uncertainly in his embrace, Ann nodded. Looking around, she felt embarrassment flooding her. Many people had stopped to watch them. “Oh dear…yes, yes I would….”
Mike nodded and placed his arm around her. “Don’t worry, folks around here understand lovers. They aren’t staring at us because we kissed, you know. Down here, everyone loves lovers.” He guided Ann toward the women’s restroom up ahead.
Grateful for his humor, his protective demeanor against the many prying eyes, Ann tried to contain her escaping feelings. She pushed strands of hair away from her face and forced herself to breathe more evenly. Lovers. The word flowed through her. Yes, she wanted to be Mike’s lover. Every cell in her body was aching with need of him, more than ever now. Just being close to him was feeding that brightly burning fire that had roared to life in her during his searching, hungry kisses.
Reaching the ladies’ room, Ann forced herself to walk into it. She felt drunk. Drunk with pleasure and desire. Somehow, she had to pull herself back together again. At the washbasin, she sloshed cold water repeatedly into her face until she felt some semblance of order returning to her. She spent a great deal more time in there than was necessary; it took a good ten minutes to gather herself. Blotting her face, she quickly ran a brush through her mussed hair and put lipstick back on her soft, well-kissed mouth.
All of her carefully orchestrated life had just exploded. Completely. Ann was no longer thinking with her head, only her heart. The switch was shocking to her. All her life, she’d allowed her head to rule her, not her emotions. In Mike’s presence, all she wanted to do was feel—and then feel some more. What was going to happen? Could she control herself where he was concerned? She felt like a teenager with her hormones running away from her, like she had no control over anything. All she had to do was think of Mike, allow his hard features to gel before her, and she grew hot and shaky all over again. Ann thought it was because she’d denied her real feelings for him throughout the last two months. This time his kiss had ripped the lid off Pandora’s box.
Groaning, she took a deep breath, talked sternly to herself and left the restroom. She found Houston standing across the corridor, his back to the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. How calm and centered he seemed! Ann stood there for a moment, envying his obvious control. He looked fine. He looked like nothing had happened. But it had. Something life-shattering had occurred within her when he’d held her minutes ago. Something so profound, so deep had occurred that Ann needed time to try and understand what had taken place.
As if sensing she was there, he turned his gaze to her. In that instant, her heart responded violently, and again that sense of warmth and protection he gave her overwhelmed her. Suddenly dizzy, Ann leaned against the wall, unsure of what was happening. Instantly, she saw Mike straighten and walk directly to her.
Before he could say anything, she held out her hand. “I’m okay. I really am.”
He smiled a little and placed his hand on her left arm, just in case. “You look beautiful,” he whispered huskily. And she did. Her lips were soft from his kisses, her eyes velvet with desire. The flush across her cheeks was still there, and as he drew her back into the traffic, he thought she looked like a teenage girl who had just experienced her very first kiss from the boy she had a crush on.
Ann leaned against him as he placed his arm around her shoulders and led her along. Grateful for his understanding, she managed to murmur, “I’ve never felt like this, Mike. Ever.”
Chuckling indulgently, he pressed a kiss to her hair. “I told you Peru would cast her spell on you. Down here, magic happens all the time.”
“Magic? Humph. More like a sledgehammer to my head, if you ask me.” Ann heard him laugh deeply over her remark. She felt his steadying care and she acquiesced to his superior strength.
“Well,” he drawled, giving her a teasing look, “maybe our kiss had a little something to do with that?”
Refusing to be baited, Ann tried to give him a dour look. “You don’t have to look like a satisfied cat about it, Houston.”
Preening a little, Mike broadened his grin into one of boyish delight. “That kiss has been a long time in coming. And there’s no way I’m apologizing for it. Ah, here we are.” He halted. “This is just what you need—espresso to settle your nerves.”
Ann laughed a little as they stood in front of the restaurant. “Oh, sure, coffee to soothe my jangled nerves. Right.” They stood looking at the small café with its red-and-green-striped awning.
“I always stop here, at Federico’s Place, to get my espresso when I’m coming in off a long flight.” Mike gestured to the brass-and-glass doors. “Come on. He’s got the best espresso in Lima. I swear it.”
Once they were seated at a small round table covered in expensive white linen and decorated with colorful flowers in a cut-glass vase, Ann smiled gratefully at the waiter. When he delivered their coffee a moment later, she cautiously sipped the tiny, fragile cup of espresso, and studied the man before her. Mike Houston was simply too large for the white wrought-iron chair, the table or even this small café. But it was there that he frequented because the owner, Federico, had recognized him instantly. There had been a lot of backslapping, smiles and greetings. And it seemed the two young waiters knew him, too. She was beginning to wonder who Houston didn’t know, but then, he’d been down here more than ten years, and in his line of business, it was good to know a lot of people.
“Well?” Mike demanded. “What do you think?” He’d already drunk half of his espresso, while Ann had only hesitantly tasted hers. He supposed she was like that with everything in her life: cautious and slow. Why? She had that shadowed look back in her eyes as she lifted the English china cup to her lips and looked at him over the rim.
“It’s sweet…and tastes surprisingly mild.” Ann set the cup down. “I thought it would taste bitter because it’s so concentrated.”
Chuckling, Mike finished off his first cup. A second magically showed up seconds later, Federico himself brought it over with a flourish. Mike nodded and thanked the restaurant owner. “What you poor folks up in Norteamérica get for coffee beans, is a sin,” he said to Ann with a laugh. “Sudamericanos aren’t stupid.” He raised the cup in toast to her. “We keep the best beans down here, and that’s what you’re drinking—Andean coffee raised on slopes so high that the condors fly over them daily. Coffee growing in some of the finest, richest lava soil in the world. It has to taste good.”
Ann couldn’t help but smile. “You are so passionate about everything. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” It was Mike’s passion that was somehow encouraging her to tap into her own desires on such a primal, wonderful level of herself as a woman.
His reckless grin broadened. “My mother often told me when I was a young kid growing up that if I didn’t love whatever I was doing, I’d eventually curl up and die. She told me to do things that made my heart sing, that made my heart soar like the condors that hang above the Andes.” He sobered a little and sighed. “She was a woman of immense intelligence, I realized as I got old enough and experienced enough to really understand what she was telling me.”
“To live life with passion,” Ann murmured. “That’s not one I’ve heard of late.”
“So,” Mike said, “do you live your life with passion? Do you love what you do as a medical doctor?”
“I like what I do. It feels good to be able to stop a person’s pain, to stop death from cheating a life…but passion? I don’t know about that.” She frowned and picked up her cup once again. “I certainly don’t live with the gusto you do.”
“A little while ago,” Mike murmured in a low intimate tone, as he turned the tiny cup around and around between his massive, scarred hands, “I saw a different Ann Parsons out there. Not the one I knew for eight weeks in Arizona. This woman, the one I kissed today, was—different. Provocative…passionate…committed…”
“Translated, that means what?”
“Just that I felt a much different woman,” Mike said in a whisper, so that no one could eavesdrop.
Avoiding his heated look, Ann tinkered nervously with the cup in her hands. “Mike…give me time. I—I’m just not prepared to say much right now.”
Holding up his palm in a gesture of peace, he added huskily, “You’re a woman of immense feelings. I understand. You’re like a deep, deep well of water. Not many are privy to the real feelings you hide so well.”
Ann couldn’t deny any of it. Stealing a glance at him, she whispered, “I don’t know what happened to me today, Mike. Maybe something changed in me when I saw Antonio almost die. I usually protect myself from personal feelings in these situations….” Her words trailed away as she became pensive. Mike deserved her honesty here. Setting the cup down, she forced herself to add, “I guess your passion for living life with emotion has rubbed off onto me a lot more than I realized. Watching your friend almost die probably shook that loose in me. It was time, I guess….”
Mike nodded, feeling the gravity of her statement. She was being honest on a level he’d never experienced with her before—due to that magical connection forged between them earlier, in that beautiful moment when he’d kissed her. He decided to return some of her honesty. “When I was trying to save Tony, I was afraid,” he admitted. “I was afraid he was dead. I wanted him to live so damn bad I could taste it. I could feel myself willing my heartbeat, my energy or whatever it was, into his body. And when I looked up at you in that moment, I felt hope. It spurred me on.” With a shrug, he added a little shamefacedly, “I can’t tell you what went on between us in that split second, I only know that something did. And somehow, it gave me hope when I didn’t really have any left.”
“All that in one look,” Ann murmured as she sipped the espresso. “I’m amazed, frankly.” Still, she felt good at Mike’s sincere praise, at the admiration in his eyes. She liked the feeling.
“You have a very healing effect on people, whether you know it or not,” Houston said sincerely.
“Something else happened back there, Mike,” Ann began hesitantly. “I think what I saw may have been a result of sleep deprivation.” She saw him frown. With a wave of her thin hand, she said, “Not that it was bad. It was just…shocking.”
“What happened?”
“Promise you won’t tell me I had a brief, acute psychotic episode?”
“No problem. You’re sane and well grounded.” Interested in hearing her experience, Houston asked, “This happened while we were bagging Tony?”
“Yes. At one point,” Ann continued, setting the espresso aside and folding her hands on the table, “something changed. You got far more intense than before. You’d hit him twice in the chest and he hadn’t started breathing again. I know you were desperate. You wanted your friend to live. That was normal behavior, but…” she folded her hands “…then something happened, and I can’t explain it or even begin to get a handle on it.”
“What?” Mike’s scowl deepened. He saw a flush stain Ann’s cheeks. “Something that upset you?”
“It didn’t upset me exactly, Mike. I just felt these incredible waves of energy striking me, like waves from the ocean, only…they were coming from you. I actually felt buffeted by them as you leaned over Tony, working so intently with him, willing him to live. And then, the silliest thing of all, I saw this shadow or something…. It descended over you. Well, part of you. And it was only for a split second. I’m sure it was a sleep-deprivation hallucination….”
“What did you see?” he demanded darkly.
Taking a deep breath, Ann dived into her experience. “I saw this dark shadow appear above your head. It just seemed to form out of nowhere. I’m not sure anyone else saw it.” Moistening her lips and avoiding his sharp, glittering gaze, she added, “I saw it come over you like a transparency of some sort, fitting over your head and shoulders.” Embarrassed, she gave an awkward laugh, and said, “For a moment, it looked like a jaguar or leopard over your head. I no longer saw your face, your profile. Instead I saw this huge cat’s head and massive shoulders. Well,” Ann murmured wryly, risking a look up at him, “I’m sure by now you think I experienced a psychotic episode.”
Mike shrugged. “Down here,” he muttered uncomfortably, “I carry a name.”
“Excuse me?”
His brows knitted and he stared down at his espresso cup. “I have a nickname….” He heaved a sigh. Lifting his head, he met her frank blue-gray gaze. “I’m sure you’ll hear it sooner rather than later, so I might as well tell you myself. I’m called the jaguar god. It’s a reputation I’ve garnered over the years. The cocaine lords started calling me that a long time ago. The name stuck.” He grimaced.
“It’s not a bad name,” Ann murmured. “Why are you so uncomfortable with it?”
Mike sat up and flexed his shoulders. “Someday, Ann, I’ll tell you more about it. More than likely my friends at the clinic will fill your ears about me, about the legend surrounding me, until you’re sick and tired of hearing that name.”
Ann frowned. “You mean there’s more to this? I wasn’t seeing things?”
Mike rose and pulled some sols from his pocket. “You’re a trained therapist. You know how sleep deprivation and emotional stress can make you hallucinate during intense moments of crisis,” he said, deciding that the truth would have to wait. He couldn’t risk her rejection of him. Not after that nourishing kiss. “Come on, that van should be ready by now and those medical supplies loaded in it.”
Chapter 4
Despite her extreme fatigue, Ann was wide awake as Mike drove the heavily loaded van from the airport to one of the poorest sections of Lima. She tried to minimize in her mind the power and influence of his hot, melting caresses, but it was impossible. It was almost as if her lips were still tingling from his branding, unexpected kiss. She tried concentrating on the road ahead of them, noticing that Mike avoided most of the major freeways and took smaller streets. He probably knew this city like the back of his hand. Even more, Ann was aware of his heightened state of alertness. He was behaving like a soldier out in the bush rather than a man driving in the relative safety of a city. It didn’t make sense and she wondered what dangers lay ahead of them.
One thing for sure, Mike was right about Lima. The city was set like a crown jewel on verdant green slopes and surrounded by the raw beauty of the Andes, which towered like a backdrop in the distance. The day was sunny, the sky a soft blue, and Ann found herself enjoying her first views of the city.
“Lima reminds me of Buenos Aires,” she said to Mike, as he turned down a dirt road that led into a poor section, what he called a barrio.
Nodding, Mike divided his attention between driving and watching for enemies. He was on his own turf now, and the drug lords had hundreds of spies throughout the city looking for him, trying to pin him down so that a hit squad could corner and murder him.
“Lima and Buenos Aires are a lot alike,” he said, distracted. “Plenty of trees, bushes and flowers all over the place.”
“Nothing like New York City?”
He grinned tightly. “That place…”
“For once we agree on something,” she teased. Moments later, the scenery changed as they crept down the dirt road, which was rutted with deep furrows where tires had chewed into the soil. The winter rains had left the area in a quagmire as usual, and the city certainly wasn’t going to waste money on asphalt paving in a barrio. Houston’s gaze was restless, his awareness acute. His eyes were scanning their surroundings like radar. Ann felt uncomfortable. Or more to the point, endangered. By what? Whom?
When Mike saw her brows dip, he tried to lighten the feeling of tension in the truck. “Hang around and you might decide I’m not the bad hombre you think I am.” He winked at her and delivered a boyish smile in her direction to ease the concern he saw in her eyes. “I’ve got six weeks to change your mind.” He scowled inwardly. What was he saying? He was loco, he decided. There was no way to have a relationship with Ann. Though he’d always known that, the truth of it hit home as he drove through the city. He couldn’t place her in that kind of danger. He simply couldn’t. The price was too high for her—and for himself.
Ann slanted a lingering glance in his direction. Houston had taken off his sport coat and rolled up the sleeves of the white cotton shirt he wore revealing his strong, massive forearms which were covered with dark hair. The window was open, allowing the spring air to circulate in the van, mixed with the scents of fires and food cooking in pots in the nearby village. “Where are we now?” she asked, sitting up and rearranging the seat belt across her shoulder.
“This is the barrio our clinic serves,” Houston said with a scowl. “My home away from home.”
“Where do you live the rest of the time?”
“Anywhere in Peru where I can find the drug lords first before they find me and my men,” he answered grimly. “Usually I stay at the BOQ—barracks officers’ quarters—up near the capital when I come in off a mission.” He took a beeper from his belt and looked at it. “Matter of fact, they know I’m here. I’ve already got five phone calls to make as soon as we get this stuff to the clinic.” He snapped the beeper back onto his belt.
Ann shook her head as she surveyed the neighborhood. Most of the ramshackle houses were little more than corrugated tin held up with bits of wood, with cardboard as siding. Huge families crowded the doorways as Ann and Mike slowly drove by. “No one should live in these conditions,” she murmured. “The city at least ought to put sanitary sewage systems into a place like this. So many children will die of infections from drinking water from open cesspools.”
“You’ve got the general idea.”
She heard the tightness in Houston’s voice and studied the hard set of his mouth. As they drove deeper into the barrio, living conditions deteriorated accordingly. People were thin and hungry looking, their dark brown faces pinched. They were wrapped in rags and threadbare clothing to try and keep warm. As Mike drove, more and more people greeted him, calling out and lifting their hands in welcome. He called back, often by name, and waved in return.
“It seems like everyone here knows you.”
“Just about.”
“Because of the clinic?”
“Yeah, mostly. Sister Dominique goes around once a week and makes house calls. She carries her homeopathic kit from house to house, family to family, doing what she can.” He shook his head. “Oftentimes it’s not enough.”
“Hopeless?”
“No,” Mike said, making a slow turn to the left, down another very narrow street lined with cardboard shacks and crowded with people. “Never hopeless.” He grinned suddenly. “I hold out hope for the hopeless, Ann, or I wouldn’t be down here doing this stuff. No, the clinic makes a difference.”
Ann admired his commitment to improving the sad conditions. “Can’t governmental agencies help you?”
