River of Secrets (16 page)

Finished with her morning routine, she hung the towel on the rack. Movement caught the corner of her eye. Her reflection in the mirror. How long had it been since she’d studied herself? She leaned in, noticing that in spite of the sunscreen she slathered on three times a day, sunburn had turned her nose pink. A dusting of freckles skipped across her cheeks and when she smiled, a few more lines at the corners of her eyes crinkled in response. Those hadn’t been there last time she’d checked. Her blue eyes looked sad. She blinked, squinted for a closer look, deciding she’d aged over the past few weeks.

Dealing with Micah hadn’t helped. He was constantly in her thoughts. She remembered that he’d always been a special man. His parents’ wealth hadn’t fazed him. Yes, he’d enjoyed the benefit of it, but it hadn’t spoiled him like it had Cassidy. And while Cassidy had gotten past that, it hadn’t been easy for her. For Micah, the money was a means to an end. He’d always wanted to help people; it was one of the reasons he’d joined the SEALs. It gave him focus, a purpose. And even a lack of memory about who he was hadn’t changed those character traits.

Amy’s stomach growled, and she decided she’d had enough of soul-searching. Slipping into the dining hall, she easily spotted Micah, Lucas and the chief of police sharing a small round table. Intensity radiated from them, so she decided to forgo a greeting and just get her food. Fresh fruit, cereal and homemade biscuits beckoned. While fixing her plate, she cast glances their way. The chief finally stood, dwarfing everyone in the room, and walked toward the door, his posture stiff, anger written in his crisp movements.

Hmm. Wonder what Micah said to get that reaction? Probably refused to stay out of the investigation and let the man do his job.

Amy felt a tug on the hem of her shirt, pulling her attention down to the little girl standing next to her. “Hello, little one. How are you this morning?”

Carlita flashed her shy grin, and Amy’s heart melted all over again. What a sweet child. Salvador walked over and picked up his sister. She lay her head on his bony shoulder, content to hug her rabbit and watch the world from her perch in Salvador’s arms. He kissed the top of her silky dark head, then looked at Amy. “Good morning,
senhorita.
I hope you slept well.”

“Sort of.” She really didn’t want to explain how she tossed and turned for hours after crashing into the bed, only to fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning. “I forgot to set my alarm clock, so I’m running a little late this morning.”

Salvador shrugged, sadness flickering through his eyes as he glanced down at the child in his arms. “We are, too. Carlita had another nightmare last night. And the storms always scare her. She hates the thunder.”

Amy had noticed the shadows under his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She reached out a finger to trace it down the girl’s downy soft cheek. Carlita smiled again and clapped a little hand to cover the spot. Amy laughed. “She’s very lucky to have you take care of her.”

He turned more solemn. “Yes, I will watch over her the rest of her life. That is a promise I made while standing over my parents’ dead bodies.”

Amy winced and decided to change the subject. She grabbed a carton of orange juice. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Carlita will go on to school, and I will help on the wing. The frame is finished, the walls are up and the insulation is nearly complete. There is still some wiring to do in the ceiling, but most of that is also finished.”

“That sounds like a busy day.”

“What will you do today, Miss Amy?”

Amy eyed Micah still seated at the table with Lucas. He was sipping on a cup of coffee, frowning at the doctor across from him. She drew in a deep breath. “Pray for a miracle.”

Micah knew the minute she stepped into the room. His “Amy radar” picked up her signal whenever she came within shouting distance. He had to figure out how to turn that thing off, but it seemed to be a permanent affliction. She’d betrayed him. Well, no, he argued with himself, that had actually been her mother.

It didn’t matter. The woman had stolen two and a half years of his life. There was no way he was marrying into that family. Whoa, he pulled his thoughts to a screeching halt. Who said anything about marriage? Where had that come from?

He shook his head, focusing again on Lucas.

The doctor smiled. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t. I can’t.” Micah speared a wedge of papaya with a fork, then waved it at Lucas. “No way are she and I going to work.” He popped the fruit in his mouth and chewed absently.

“I thought your God could do anything.”

Micah stared. That was twice Lucas had brought God into a conversation. Narrowing his eyes, he studied the man. “Why is He ‘your’ God?” With his two fingers Micah wiggled invisible quotes around the word
your.
“If He’s God, He’s God, right? Besides you said you believed in Him so that makes Him your God, too.”

Lucas blinked. “Whatever. All I’m saying is if you want to have something with the lady, shouldn’t you trust in that faith you keep talking about and just go for it?”

“Her mother set me up to die. Falling in love with Amy is out of the question.”

That set the good doctor back on his heels a bit. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Look, Lucas, I don’t want to think about Amy or relationships right now. I just want to know who’s out to kill me.”

“And I want to help.” Amy’s soft voice cut in. Micah stiffened, all defenses on high alert. He scanned her face wondering if she’d heard his comment about not falling in love with her, but didn’t see any evidence of it.

So much for his “Amy radar” as he hadn’t had a blip of a warning that she was right behind him. Instead he saw dark circles that ringed her pretty eyes. She looked worn, tired. His heart wanted to sympathize, but he refused to let it. “What do you think you can do to help, Amy?”

She slid into the empty seat between him and Lucas. “I just had a thought. Would it be possible that my mother knows you’re alive and is somehow orchestrating this from her jail cell?”

Micah gave a start. That was one angle he hadn’t thought of. “Jonathas claimed there were posters of me everywhere in town. What if someone recognized me and called her?”

“But who?” Lucas asked.

Amy ran a hand through her dark blond hair, pushing a few stray strands behind her delicate ear. Micah tore his gaze away forcing himself to concentrate on her words. “I don’t know. I can’t even begin to guess. When I realized it was my mother that was after Cassidy, having her kidnapped from here…”

“Whoa, wait, hold on,” Micah burst in. “Cassidy? My sister, Cassidy?”

Amy frowned at him. “Yes. I thought you knew all that.”

“All what?” Frustration nearly had him climbing the walls.

“Oh, dear,” Amy brought a hand to her mouth and whispered behind her fingers. “You mean, you haven’t heard that story? I guess I just assumed when you got your memory back, you’d put it all together.”

Micah paused, thinking for a moment. The only story he’d heard about was the one where a few months ago there had been a lady who’d arrived to pick up a child she’d been adopting and had been snatched from the orphanage. Later, she’d escaped her captors with the help of a friend and had shown up back at the orphanage, refusing to leave the country without the child. She’d been so grateful for the help of the relief workers that she’d promised to help rebuild what her captors had damaged. Monthly checks arrived right on schedule.

His eyes went wide. It just hit him. “You mean, my sister,
Cassidy,
is the woman that was kidnapped, and it’s because of her the orphanage suffered all this damage? She’s the wealthy benefactor? And your mother was involved in that, too?” Shaking his head, he lowered it into his palms and clutched his hair. “Unbelievable.”

“Oh, Micah, I’m so sorry.”

He shot her an accusing look.

She flinched and held out a beseeching hand. “I wasn’t holding out on you, I promise. I never thought I had to tell you that part. I just thought you’d…know.”

“No,” he mumbled without looking up, “no, I didn’t know.”

Micah gathered his thoughts, looked up and stared at the ceiling. He asked, “Does your mother have the power to have me killed from a jail cell in the U.S.?”

“Probably,” she whispered.

A sigh escaped him. “Can you call her and confront her with this?”

“No, no way.” Amy jumped up. “I haven’t talked to that woman since she’s been in jail. I’m not about to start now.”

Narrowing his eyes at the distraught Amy, he said, “Actually, I’m not asking. I’m saying you owe me and I want you to call her. Ask her what’s going on, and see if you can tell if she’s lying or not when she swears she doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lucas stood up next to Amy before she had a chance to argue. “And I’m going to see if the chief can do a little investigating into the family of the man that you shot. Manuel Cruz may be dead, but his legacy, unfortunately, lives on. Then I have to be at the hospital. Keep me updated.” He narrowed his eyes at Micah, gathered up his coffee cup and said, “I’ve got too much invested in you to let someone kill you. I want to help, so let me know what I can do. On that note, I’m going to leave the two of you to work out whatever it is you two need to work out.”

The man left, leaving Micah to look at Amy and wonder what he was going to do with her. His heart wanted to love her and push her away at the same time. The inner battle was taking a toll on his emotions.

“So, shall we go find a phone?” He quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

She flinched again. Her sad eyes caught his as she beseeched him, “Don’t ask me to do this, please.”

Steeling himself, he pointed toward Anna’s office. “Ladies first.”

ELEVEN

A
my prayed as she led the way down the hall.
Lord, I can’t do this. I haven’t spoken to her since she went to jail. I avoided her during the trial, refusing to meet her eyes, to acknowledge her presence. How am I supposed to pick up the phone and call her?

Cassidy’s words returned to haunt her. “You’ll have to forgive her one day.”

God, how do I forgive her? I can’t do it.
Tears clogged her throat. She swallowed hard. She would have to lean on God.

Amy jerked to a stop. Anna’s office door was shut, but a simple knock would bring the woman to open it. Her racing heart slowed; she took a deep breath. A calm settled over her. No, she didn’t want to phone her mother. Not yet. She needed to prepare herself, her heart. She looked into Micah’s eyes, her breath catching at the look of desolation there. And she was going to add to it. “Micah, I can’t do it right now. I need time.”

Placing a hand on her arm, he urged, “Time is one thing I may not have, Amy. I need to find out who’s after me and why. Calling your mother is a step in the right direction.”

Amy backed away from the office, licking her lips and shaking her head. Fear overtook her as she stepped aside. “No, I can’t do it. I haven’t talked to her since her arrest. She may refuse to talk to me anyway.”

The hand gripping her arm squeezed tighter. “Amy…”

She jerked from his grip. She wanted to help him, but this was asking too much.

“I thought you wanted to help.”

She closed her eyes against the pain in his voice. “I do, Micah, I truly do, but this is…it’s simply beyond me and…I can’t.”

His eyes went cold. “Fine. I’ll call her myself. But a word of advice. If you don’t want to help, don’t make the offer.”

He left without another word. Amy wanted to chase him down and make him understand.
God, I just can’t. I know you’re my strength, and I truly believe that, given time, I’ll be able to make the effort, but right now it’s just too soon, too much.
She leaned against the wall, praying, debating. While she was still thinking, Anna popped her head out. “Oh, Amy. I was just coming to find you. You have a phone call.”

Forcing her turbulent emotions under control, she asked, “Who is it?”

Shrugging, Anna waved her into the office. “I don’t know. The person just asked to speak to you. Make yourself at home while I run down to the kitchen real quick. I’ll be back soon.”

Puzzled, Amy stepped into the office and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Meet me in three nights.” No mistaking that voice. Maria.

Amy sucked in a deep breath, her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs. “Where?”

“At the clearing past Lake Tomalis. I have arranged to get away from the camp once more.”

“I don’t know where that is.”

“The quickest way is to hike through the jungle to the market area. Then you must take the canoe up the river. When you see the red pole with the green flag, get out of the canoe and walk the path. You will find it. It will take you about an hour to get there from the orphanage.”

“But how do I contact you if I need to?”

“You won’t need to. Lucia is ready. She has agreed to go with you, but there are many in this camp that would kill us both if they find out. Three days.”

“Three days. What time?”

“Right before the sun goes down.”

“All right. I’ll do my best to be there.”

“We will only get one chance. If you fail, we all fail.”

The phone clicked in her ear. Dizziness assailed her, and for a moment she thought she might pass out. Then common sense knocked her on the head. She was in way too deep. Going alone into the jungle to meet with Maria wasn’t an option. She had to have help.

Micah.

God, he’s not going to help me. I just refused to help
him.
He’s really mad at me right now, remember? If I ask him, I’m only setting myself up for rejection, right? Seriously, You think I should ask him? Will he do it?

Most likely, he’ll shake his head in disbelief that I actually had the nerve to ask him.

Setting the phone into the cradle, she decided there was only one way to find out. Determination lifted her chin. Energy quickened her steps as she headed down the hall to the wing under renovation. Jonathas and Salvador painted the new walls a pretty shade of blue. She waved to them, but stayed focused on her objective. She found Micah working on the wires in the ceiling. For a moment she simply stared. He was a beautiful man, scars and all. His movements flowed as he connected wires, clipped the excess and rechecked his work. Amy swallowed hard. She could love him. Easily. If he could only return the sentiment.