Pearls (24 page)

Still, she’d sleep lightly for the remainder of the trip.

“It’s completely ruined, Isabel.” Manuel stared at the pile of twisted metal and broken glass. While Isabel had managed to escape the ravages of the avalanche, the disaster pulverized the equipment they’d left on the terraces.

She stared at the pieces of shredded metal, wondering how she would have looked if that wall of rocks had slid over her. Swallowing hard, she tried to focus on the task at hand. “What do you suggest we do?”

“Leave. There’s no point in staying here now. The terraces are destroyed.” He glanced around the area, angry at the devastation the historical site had suffered. Most of the turf was shredded, and giant gouges marred the once-pristine terraces. Some of the retaining walls had collapsed under the pummeling, and Manuel knew a few heavy rains would wash out much of the terrain. The ancient terraces would slowly erode and disappear. A shame. “We spent three weeks working at this location. If we didn’t find it in that amount of time, it’s probably not here.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Isabel studying him. Despite the fact that they had found his Bible exactly where he said it would be, she still didn’t trust him completely. Her lack of confidence disappointed him, but he didn’t intend to give up. He would simply work harder to earn her faith.

Standing, he turned to face her. “Even if we could keep working, I’d insist on leaving. Since we arrived, it’s been one incident after the other. I don’t like feeling that you’re in danger.” He grazed her cheek with his fingertips.

She didn’t shy away from his touch. A good sign.

“Come on. Let’s put some distance between this place and us. Maybe we’ll outrun trouble.”

She nodded and slipped her hand into his. “Let’s go tell Raúl.”

While Manuel arranged for Isabel to see a doctor, Isabel leaned against the outer wall of the medical facility and glanced around the streets of Santo Domingo, thinking it strange to be with so many people again after weeks of isolation.

“I need to return to Caracas and see to my business interests. A problem has arisen that I cannot handle over the phone.” Raúl’s gaze darted over Isabel’s features then dropped to the ground. “You don’t need me here anyway.”

Isabel felt a surge of compassion. Raúl’s pride had taken some severe blows in the last few weeks. Though she recognized God’s handiwork in progress, she couldn’t help but pity the man. When God stripped a person of defenses, the process hurt, even if it was for the best.

“We appreciate all the help you’ve offered. We couldn’t have done this without your financial support.”

Raúl shrugged. “You may as well know, the money was irrelevant. I agreed to partner with you so I could continue to see you.”

“I know.”

His eyes met hers. “I still care. I always will.”

She nodded. “I know that too.”

He sucked in a deep breath, as if pulling courage into his body. “Is there any chance for us?”

She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Right now friendship and business are all that are possible.”

He sighed. “I wish your answer was different, but I’m not surprised. I don’t blame you either. If the situation were reversed, my stance would likely be the same.”

She held out her hand, and he wrapped his fingers around it. “Take care of yourself, Raúl. And promise me you’ll think about our conversation.”

“The one about God?”

She tilted her head and looked at him with all the sincerity she could muster. “You might find what you’re searching for in Him.”

The door of the medical clinic opened, and Manuel stepped out. “They have an exam room waiting. The doctor can see you in just a few minutes.”

Isabel drew a deep breath. “Really, I’m fine. I don’t need to see a doctor.”

Manuel crossed his arms over his chest. “You will see the doctor or I will drive you back home to your grandmother.”

“Please, Isabel. See the doctor.” Raúl gave her a look of determination similar to Manuel’s, and Isabel knew she had no choice but to concede.

“Fine. I’ll go, but it’s a waste of money.”

“Not in my opinion. I’ll see you later. Maybe not until you return to Caracas, but I’d like to hear about the Amazon.” Raúl leaned toward her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

Isabel nodded.

Raúl turned and offered a hand to Manuel. “Take care of her.”

Manuel looked surprised at Raúl’s uncharacteristic gesture but accepted the offered hand. “I will. Have a safe trip back.”

The two men stared at one another, and Isabel sensed a message passing through the undercurrents of their gazes. For the first time, Raúl seemed to acknowledge some grudging acceptance of Manuel and his new role in her life.

“I’m leaving then.” Raúl turned and climbed into the jeep he would drive back to Caracas. With the loss of equipment in the rockslide, they no longer needed two vehicles to transport gear. With a look of regret in his eyes, he started the vehicle and guided it out onto the road.

Isabel waved until he disappeared around a bend. Turning to Manuel, she smiled. “Guess I can’t avoid this medical exam any longer.”

He opened the door and held it for her. “After you.”

Glad to finish the long drive, Manuel steered the car down the busy streets of Puerto Ayacucho, gateway to the Amazon. The people bustling in the streets wore looks of anticipation as they added colorful decorations to storefronts and windows. The plaza in the center of town was barricaded to traffic, and the area churned with people setting up for an event. Tables and chairs clustered around food vendor stands, and a group of men assembled a stage at one end of the plaza. Bright flags and streamers fluttered in the breeze, adding to the festive picture. Manuel guessed there would be music and dancing in addition to the delicious food and drink.

“I wonder what’s going on here.” Isabel eyed the activity with the look of one who has spent weeks in isolation.

Her face showed a hunger for some social time, and her interest gave him an idea. “Looks like a festival. I’ll ask someone about it.”

Manuel found a decent hotel a few blocks from the center of town and paid for two rooms. He walked Isabel to hers and made sure the facilities were adequate. It offered a single bed with a faded blanket, a battered dresser, and a bathroom no larger than a closet. Not the most deluxe accommodations, but they were clean and functional—the best one could hope for in this part of the world.

 
He left her sitting on the bed and returned a few minutes later with her bags. After placing her belongings inside the door, he leaned against the frame. “I asked the hotel manager about the activity in the center of town. He said it’s Carnival Week. They have a big celebration just before Lent, and the festival starts tonight.”

She nodded. “I figured it must be something like that.”

He met her gaze and summoned his nerve. “I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of attending the festival with me this evening.”

She smiled. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“I thought it was time we got around to our first date, since we decided to start dating about three weeks ago.”

She glanced down at her clothes and her smile faded. “It sounds like fun, Manuel, but I don’t have anything to wear. Every outfit I brought is filthy. I was considering doing something about my dirty laundry when you knocked.”

He noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. They’d worked hard for the last two weeks, and she needed a few days of rest and fun. He tweaked her earlobe, unwilling to accept no for an answer. “We can do laundry tomorrow. You clean up and take a nap. I’ll see you later.”

She nodded, yawning as she shut the door.

“Wait.” He put his hand on the door and stopped her. “I forgot to tell you. Don’t go anywhere without me. We’re only a few miles from the Columbian border. Sometimes guerillas cross over and when they do, Americans aren’t safe.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise I’m going to wash up and take a nap. No excursions outside the room.”

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

Manuel listened for the sound of her lock then began to put his plan into action. He would have liked to crawl into bed, as well. Despite hours of inactivity while they traveled, his body felt more fatigued than if he’d labored all day. But he could rest later. For now, he had a mission to accomplish.

Stopping by his room, he dug in his bag for the nicer outfit he’d brought along. Archaeology generally entailed long, hard hours in the field, sweating and working with dirt in one form or another. His wardrobe reflected his practical nature. He opted for functional, durable clothes without concern for fashion. But occasionally, situations arose that required more professional looking apparel. For this reason he always carried one nicer outfit.

He pulled the black pants and shirt from his bag and winced. They were wrinkled and carried a faint odor from having been packed with dirty clothes. Gathering them up along with his supply of cash, he left in search of a laundromat. He found one a few doors down from the hotel and gave the proprietress something extra to have them ready in a few hours.

His next errand forced him onto unfamiliar territory. Even growing up with three sisters had not prepared him for this mission, but if he wanted to make this night a success, he would have to brave it.

As he passed through the open door of a shop with a promising window display, his shoulder brushed against a set of wind chimes, drawing unwanted attention to his arrival. Two saleswomen exchanged knowing glances, and the older lady stepped forward, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Can I help you?” she asked in melodic Spanish.

“I hope so, because I’m certain I won’t be of any help to myself.” He flashed her a smile and hoped a little charm would buy him extra assistance and cooperation. He needed a female accomplice if he intended to pull this off. “I want to buy an outfit—a dress for a woman.”

“This woman, she is special, no?”

He nodded with relief. The sparkle in her eye told him she was a matchmaker at heart. “Very. And I want our evening to be special, so the dress has to be just right.”

“Did you have something particular in mind?”

“A dress with a traditional flavor. Colorful, full skirts, a peasant blouse.”

She turned and headed for the back of the store, waving at him to follow. “The tourists, they like these so we always keep some in stock. They are perfect to wear to a festival,
sí
?”

She pulled one of the dresses from the rack and held it against her, grasping a handful of the flared skirt and lifting it to show him the fullness. It was feminine without being frilly, possessed a cultural flavor without overdoing it. And she was right—it looked perfect for a festival.

“I’ll take it, or at least I’ll take one of them.” He stared at the rack perplexed. “I don’t know what size or color.” He realized he hadn’t done enough research before he set out on this little expedition.

The saleswoman smiled and patted his arm, obviously accustomed to dealing with addled customers. “Maria!” she called.

The other saleswoman appeared with a look of expectancy on her face.

“Your señorita, she is like Maria, or smaller, or larger…?”

Manuel grasped her plan and decided it could work. Maria looked flustered in her modeling role, evidenced by the blush creeping over her face. Truthfully, he was uncomfortable, too, so he tried to make his perusal brief. His gaze traveled over Maria’s frame, his mind making quick comparisons.

“The women are nearly the same size, but Isabel is taller.” He held his hand up near his chin, indicating her height. “And she has beautiful blue eyes. Do you have a color that will set them off?”

Maria slipped away while the saleswoman thumbed through the rack of dresses. “This one, I think.” She separated a dress from the others and held it out to him.

A vibrant indigo. Manuel could imagine how the hues would play with Isabel’s rich coloring. “If that’s her size, I’ll take it.”

The saleswoman carried it to the front counter and proceeded to wrap the purchase in tissue. He paid for the dress, handing over nearly half of his personal spending money on the gift and not regretting a penny. The deal with Raúl had provided Manuel with a modest salary in exchange for his expertise. He sent a portion of the income to his mother, buying a few months’ time before her financial struggles demanded he abandon his archaeological pursuits to salvage the family farm. The rest he pocketed for an emergency or occasional splurge.

There was no one he would rather splurge on than Isabel.

On his way back to the hotel, Manuel saw an old man peddling flowers on the corner and veered toward him. The vendor offered a nice selection of fresh-cut blooms, but the only one fitting for Isabel was the orchid. Beautiful, elegant—like her. Manuel laid the flower across the tissue-wrapped package and bounded to Isabel’s door, a giddy sensation in his chest adding spring to his step.

He heard her humming as he knocked. When she opened the door, she wore a robe and a towel wrapped around her hair turban style, her face washed clean of makeup.