River of Desire: A Romantic Action Adventure/Thriller (7 page)

Fury mixed with fear propelled her into action. She tried to stand, but her right leg refused to support her. Even the effort sent shock waves through her. She crumbled to the ground.

She had to find help, even if she died trying.

How could anyone be so inhumane as to desert another human being, even a complete stranger, in her present condition? A raging hatred of Hart gave her strength to push on, determined to see that his despicable cowardice didn’t go undetected.

She dragged herself across the tent’s threshold into the sunlight. Digging fingers into soil, she crawled her way toward the water’s edge. The excruciating torture in her leg mingled with the intense aching in her head disoriented her. The farther she crept toward the water, the farther away it appeared. She soon found herself in a thicket of trees. She tried to claw her way out, but the more she did, the more lost she became. Finally, she was totally surrounded, under the jungle’s canopy. The wound’s stabbing spasms ran up her leg. Nausea overcame her.

She gasped for breath.

She could go no farther.

Chapter Five

Dylan wrestled the raft ashore and darted to the tent. The flap gapped open, no one inside. Where was Leah? How could she have moved with that ankle? Could someone, anyone, an animal, have carried her off? He rushed to the clearing, hoping to spot her. The jungle’s thickness posed a daunting foe. He searched about uselessly. With nothing but ceibas and cecropias in view, dread slowly replaced anxiety.

Back at the tent, he looked for signs of struggle and spotted drag marks in the loam, a track through dead leaves. He followed the track into the trees, barely noticing the slap of fronds against his face or clutch of vines at his arms and legs, and came upon Leah slumped under a palm. Ants crawled over her body. A kind of hopeful horror caught in his throat.
Don’t be dead! Please don’t be dead
! he chanted like a mantra. Pushing lianas out of the way, he reached down to her.

She lay on her belly, arms thrust above head. He turned her over, raised her head and gently shook her. “Leah! Speak to me, Leah.”

She stirred, mumbling incoherently and his hope soared. After a moment, her eyes fluttered open. Without any warning, she thrust both fists at him like a punch-drunk boxer. “Creep! You left me,” she muttered.

Relieved, he smiled at her unexpected pluck, grabbed her hands and enclosed them in his. “I didn’t leave you. I went looking for some Jergon Sacha. I need to give it to you right away.” He tucked his arms under her and pulled her against his chest. Her face, white as river water’s wake, tightened. She let out a groan. He couldn’t allow her pain to delay his treatment.

He jogged with her toward the campsite, aware of her light-as-an-armload-of-leaves in his arms. Her head lolled from side to side. Disjointed sentences ushered from her in mumbles. Precious time slipped by.

He placed her down on his pad. Using his jungle knife, he quickly chopped up the tuber and stirred it into a cup of cold water he had boiled the evening before. He bent before her and raised her head. She moaned.

“I want you to drink this now.”  He parted her heart-shaped lips with the cup’s rim and poured the fluid into her mouth. She turned her head to the side and choked. Afraid she would spit out the solution, he held her mouth closed until she swallowed.

Her eyes opened wide. “Ugh! What’s that?”

What a feisty woman—half-conscious and still complaining. “Medicine. I have to treat the bite. You won’t enjoy this.”

He unwrapped the gauze and placed a banana leaf filled with the finely chopped plant against the bite, tying it to her leg with the gauze. Leah’s face distorted in pain and her body convulsed until she almost flipped off the mat. Still, she hardly uttered a sound. He admired her fortitude more and more. To comfort her, he collected her close and she slowly relaxed in his arms. He reluctantly laid her back on the mat, covered her with a blanket. She needed sleep to recuperate.

On his way out of the tent, he gave her one last glance. She lay on her back with her head to the side. Her innocent posture tugged at his heart in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible. His concern for her provoked long forgotten tenderness, an urge to protect her. Not typically a religious man, he said a silent prayer for her deliverance from the poison.

* * *

A gentle lift of Leah’s head disturbed her sleep. She focused with difficulty on Hart bending over her.

He wiped stray wisps of hair gently from her forehead. “Time for more medication.” He held a cup to her lips.

The liquid running down her esophagus tasted of resin. In spite of a strong desire to spit it out, she swallowed. The pungent taste made her cringe. Bad medicine administered by a man she had considered bad medicine. She couldn’t help but reconsider now. “D...Delicious.”

His smile lit up the shelter. “Well, well, my patient is regaining her sense of humor. Must be a good sign. Now, just eat a bit more of this tasty tuber.” 

She indicated a desire to sit so he placed his arms behind her to help. Her weak arms aided his effort. “Th...thirsty.”

He reached for the canteen and brought it to her lips. She greedily downed the liquid.

He abruptly pulled the canteen away. “Whoa. Enough. Overdoing it may make you sick.” He placed the canteen aside and helped her lie back again. “Rest now. I’ll look in on you later.”

She dozed off and on, febrile and miserable. Frightening dreams haunted her sleep. At one point, she woke soaked in sweat. Dylan came by often to treat the bite and replace cold compresses on her brow. By late afternoon, she was aroused by hunger gnawing at her gut. She reached over and clumsily rifled her pack.

Dylan slid open the tent flap. “What are you doing?”

She weakly raised her head. “I packed a Snickers bar, just in case. I’m starved.”

His expression turned from concern to relief. “You’re recovering quickly. Be right back.” He dropped the flap and returned with dried fruit. After she washed the food down with water, she laid back unaided. “Is it too late to travel today?”

Dylan unraveled the gauze. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere. Rest today. We’ll see how you are tomorrow.” His fingers smearing sap on the wound sent a bolt of electricity up her leg and she jerked it away.”

When he reached toward her leg, vicious, raised scarlet bumps she hadn’t noticed before stood in clusters on his hand and arm. She traced a string of fiery eruptions on the prominent muscle in his forearm with fingertips. “What are all those marks?”

He glanced down. “Just ant bites. I’ll be fine.”

The scabs looked like ones in a medical manual she had consulted before the trip, crusted over and blackened at the tips. She gingerly touched them, sensing the heat that emanated to her fingertips. She couldn’t believe he would completely ignore his wounds while treating her. “They look horrible. Maybe I should cover them with the chacruna I picked.”

He smiled. “Thanks, but you have a bigger problem to tend to.”

“You’re sure you don’t want me to do something?”

“
Just rest.”

His devoted attention touched her, but also made her uneasy. “But we have to move on.”

“Not until you’re ready.”

Surprised, she said, “I thought you were the one with the time pressure.”

A trace of concern flickered in his eyes. “Your well-being comes first. We’ll move on when you’re better.”

Tears of gratitude touched the corner of her eyes. While Dylan tried so hard to appear removed, unaffected, she sensed a hidden well of tender emotion beginning to leak through the crack in his armor. Her throat swelled with reciprocal feelings for him. He had saved her life and she would always appreciate him for it. She reached out to him, but he stopped her fingers with his hand. She held his gaze, aware of the warmth that passed through her. He looked away.

* * *

With determination, Leah munched on Hart’s powdered egg concoction. Okay, so it wasn’t Eggs Benedict, but protein was what she needed right now. “I’m almost ready to hit the road— I mean the river.”

In the midst of placing sleeping bag in pouch, Dylan glanced over. “You’re sure you’re up to traveling today?”

Her leg throbbed incessantly, but she couldn’t allow it to cut into their limited timetable. “Of course.”

He frowned. “Why don’t I believe you? Let me see that bite.”  

When he removed the gauze, she successfully fought the desire to cry out. The less she revealed her true condition, the more likely they were to move on.

The bite was still flame-colored, but the swelling had receded a bit. He probed the spot and she silently winced. “That does look better, but I think you could use another day.”

Sure, maybe I can use another day, but I can’t use one up.
She appreciated Dylan’s kindness, but she had to convince him of her readiness. “I’m raring to go. Really. Just help me to my feet.”

He shook his head in a gesture of disbelief, then pulled her to standing. Her right leg wobbled under her, but she willed it still. She had to ignore the impossible pain.

She leaned on the arm he extended and staggered down to the raft, grateful for Hart’s help. She had never been the maiden-in-distress type, but the trip was more important than her vanity. 

When he helped her into the canoe, her leg twisted. She let out a gasp from the spasm that rode up her calf and his hand tightened on her arm.

“Are you sure you want to do this? It seems unreasonable under the circumstances.”

She gave him her warmest smile. “I’m fine. Now let’s shove off,
Capítan
.”

He shrugged before prying the raft from its dock on the beach and hopping in. The raft slipped into the water and shot unsteadily downriver. Tropical sun beat down on Leah’s head, making her woozy. Even reclining, she was exhausted. Intermittent chills shook her. Her stomach churned and begged her to release its contents. She lay back with her head on the seat, fighting the feeling in her gut. She would not give in and fuel another of Dylan’s arguments about waiting another day.

Within an hour, clouds moved in to cover the sun. For once she looked forward to the daily jungle rain, which fell even during the dry season, although with less ferocity. It would soon cool the air and bring a much-desired breeze to blow away her nausea. 

Dylan watched her out of the corner of his eye. Nothing like a little snakebite would deter her. He’d see. She was stronger than he thought.

The throb in her ankle had subsided a little by the time Dylan pulled the canoe ashore to give her another dose of the sap solution. He again removed the makeshift cloth bandage from her ankle and treated the wound. Every time he exposed the bite, it looked better. The red thread up her leg had turned hot pink. He acted pleased with his part in her progress, and she was secretly pleased with him, too. Although she had no intention of telling him, she had begun to trust his judgment and ability. She glanced up at him and noted how ruggedly handsome he was with his dark ruffled hair and sun-burnt skin. Given all those good looks and that cocky attitude, she didn’t want to deal with a bigger ego than he already displayed. “So, how’s it look?”

“
It’s healing just fine. You’ll soon be running in the New York Marathon.”

She laughed. “And you’ll soon be chief of the Machiguenga.” She touched one of the welts that had formed on his lower arm. “That really looks nasty. Does it hurt?”

He glanced down at it. “Not as much as before.”

“
I know I asked already, but I’m going to try again. Can I please cover those welts with my version of a magic potion?”

He shrugged. “You’d do that for me?”

His unassuming, even self-conscious response perplexed her. She wondered if his cocksure attitude was just a front to launder deeper feelings, feelings he wasn’t ready to share with anyone else. It made him even more attractive. “Remove your shirt and let me take a look at them.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “You know they’re not just on my upper torso.”

She pulled down the corner of her mouth in what she hoped was a world-weary expression. “Drop your pants, too.”

While he tugged his top overhead and slipped from his jeans, she prepared a cup of crushed chacruna leaf and water. When she looked up, he stood before her, naked except for a pair of skimpy jockeys. He looked like a man should, with broad shoulders and chest, narrow hips. And what a chest— pure dark down-covered muscle. She had the urge to run her fingers through the fur, but controlled herself. He was too hot to handle.

“Turn around.” With fingertips, she spread the concoction over the angry red raised bumps peppering his back and legs. “Other side.” When he turned, the look of raw passion in his eyes unnerved her. Her hand began to shake and she had to control herself so he wouldn’t notice how he effected her. 

Next it was her turn. After he treated her bite, they divided a snack between them and again pushed off downstream. The spinning in her head had subsided a little; her gut had quieted a bit. “Where are we going now?”

Dylan pushed an oar through water. “We’re nearly at a Jivaro settlement.”

A jolt in the raft sent a stabbing pain through her ankle. She clenched her teeth. Took a deep breath. A minute passed before she could speak. “Who are the Jivaro?”

“They’re what the locals call
isolados,
an isolated tribe. They’re the fiercest tribe in the Amazon. Head hunters, actually.” He smiled as though to convince her they were merely harmless pranksters.

That did little to reassure her. “Why visit them?”          

“They may have information you want. I’ve been the K
akaram
’s friend for years. He’s their chief. He’s a good source of knowledge about what’s going on in the jungle.”

She questioned his choice of friends, not being included in that category. “How does he come by his information?”

Dylan pushed past a large rock jutting from the water. “These people are hunters and gatherers. They get around. Talk to other tribes— “

“
When they aren’t shrinking their heads?”

He gave her a look of exasperation. “You must be feeling better, you’re timing is as wicked as ever.” An overhanging branch slapped his arm and he pushed it out of her way. “They have a finger on the jungle’s pulse, so to speak. We’ll see if we can learn anything from them. At the same time, you might rest that leg awhile.”