Violets in February (13 page)

Footsteps echoed in the corridor.

“Get behind me,” he said. “They want you, they're gonna have to go through me.”

“They'll kill you.”

“Told ya I'd die for you and I meant it.”

Four gunmen burst in. “Simama.” They indicated with their hands.

Jed rose, putting himself firmly between the gunmen and Lucy.

A tall man in uniform came in, his arm in a sling. He looked at Jed, and then his gaze fell on the woman Jed was shielding.

Jed slid his hand behind his back, motioning Lucy to stay put. “You want her, you kill me first,” he said firmly. His heart pounded and knew the stupidity of what he was doing. He would die here, but to protect the woman he loved it'd be worth it.

The man's eyes widened slightly. “Dr. Boyd?”

A stifled gasp came from behind Jed. “You—” Lucy's voice, thin with shock, seemed to fill the small room. “It's you…”

11

Jed stood firm, determined to keep Lucy safe from this new threat.

The tall man carried an air of authority, despite his arm being strapped to his chest.

“You know this mongrel, Lucy?”

“Yes.” She gripped Jed tightly as she pulled herself up, a short gasp of pain escaping her. She managed to stand by his side.

“For Pete's sake, you can't stand,” he hissed. “And I can't protect you if you're in front of me.” He picked her up, holding her tightly, his ribs complaining painfully. But now what did he do? He wouldn't turn his back on this man.

The man in uniform turned to one of the guards and snapped his fingers. “Bring Dr. Boyd a chair. And one for her companion. Quickly.”

The gunman ran from the room, returning in an instant with two chairs.

Jed gently lowered Lucy into one, choosing to stand beside her, hands protectively on her shoulders. He wouldn't lower his guard for an instant.

“To answer your question, Mr. Gorman,” the man continued, “yes, Dr. Boyd and I have met.” His dark eyes didn't leave their faces as he studied them critically. “I must apologize for the way my men treated you. Had I known it was you, this would never have happened.” He turned and barked orders in Swahili and the gunmen vanished.

He indicated the spare chair. “Please, sit.”

Jed shook his head. “I'm fine standing.”

“Then I will.” The man pulled the chair opposite them and lowered himself into it.

Jed's suspicions rose. He'd done this scenario in training. First they beat you to a pulp in order to extract the information. Then they plied you with food and people being nice to you. And when that didn't work, they tried more, inventive forms of torture. He could deal with that. But Lucy couldn't.

The man continued. “Like I said, Dr. Boyd, had I known it was you in the truck, this would not have happened.”

“Come across many white folks in these parts, do you?” Jed said, using all the sarcasm he could muster.

“You'd be surprised.”

Lucy's hand touched Jed's for a moment, the gentleness of the touch unsettling him. She didn't seem scared at all, but why?

Because he sure was. He squeezed her shoulder, reassuring her that he was there.

“How's your shoulder?” Lucy asked.

The man smiled. “It is a little sore, but I have full movement in my arm.”

“OK,” Jed said. “I'm more than a little confused here. Just how do you two know each other?”

“I was shot a few days ago, by another faction, in a village not far from Lucy's mission compound. My men took me there, as she was the only doctor for miles. She removed the bullet and saved my life. The villagers were trying to protect us…protect me.”

Jed's grip on her shoulders tightened. “Lucy? These were the soldiers you told me about?”

“He needed help,” she said quietly. “I did my job. Shortly after his men took him away, I fell and hurt my knee. Then you arrived and here we are.”

The uniformed officer studied her. “Lucy, you need a doctor. My men tell me that your foot is cold and white and I can see that your knee is very swollen.”

“It doesn't hurt. Well, my foot doesn't; not anymore.”

“Why didn't you say something?” Jed asked.

She shook her head. “No point.”

Jed sighed in exasperation. “There's every point, you stupid woman. They'd have sent a chopper for you.”

“We're miles from the city,” Lucy argued. “And there's no guarantee a chopper won't get shot down, you know that. So we're in your truck, the weather isn't great, the roads are worse and the river crossing is gone.” She paused. “There was nothing you could do, so I kept quiet.”

“My men and I hold the main road from here to the city.” The man spoke again. “I have ordered your truck be fitted with my flag. You will be under my protection as long as you are in my territory.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said.

Jed stood still, waiting for the whole situation to go pear shaped. There must be a trick to this somewhere. If only he could figure out where, he'd know what to look for. “What are you saying?” he asked quietly.

“I'm saying, you may leave. Lucy saved my life. It is only fair that I save hers in return, and as you are her companion, Mr. Gorman, your life is also spared.”

One of the gunmen came in carrying towels and clothing.

Jed raised an eyebrow. “Towels?”

“And fresh clothing for you both. This is Afla. He will show you where there is hot water. You should freshen up before you eat and leave.”

“Eat?” Jed said, not believing what he was hearing. This had to be a trick; he was more convinced than ever now.

The man nodded. “Please, follow Afla. You are my guests now.” He left the room.

Jed moved in front of Lucy and picked her up. His heart beat faster at the way she fitted perfectly against him, his body stirred and filled with an emotion he wasn't familiar with, but one he wanted more and more of. “I don't trust him,” he whispered. “But not going to argue.”

Lucy nodded, but didn't say anything.

He turned and followed Afla down a hallway. He counted the doors, but didn't imagine they'd be left alone. Afla pushed open a door.

Jed walked through into a spacious tiled bathroom. He glanced around. Bath, shower, toilet and a plastic chair, presumably to put your clothes on to keep them dry. “Well, you wanted plumbing, Lucy.”

“Yeah. Shame I can't enjoy it,” she whispered.

“Can you manage?”

“Think so.”

He set her down, watching in concern as she clung to the sink. “Here.” He put the plastic chair under the shower and turned it on. “I'll be right outside the door. Yell if you need me.”

She nodded.

Jed left the room, standing guard against the door. He didn't like her color, or rather the lack of it. And she'd felt unnaturally warm to his touch. Nor did he like the soft cries of pain that came over the sound of the running water. Finally, she called his name and he opened the door.

Lucy stood, leaning against the wall, dressed in a white pant suit which suited her slender figure.

He smiled. “Lovely.”

“I'll wait outside…”

He shook his head. “I don't think so.” Quickly, he dried off the chair and set it facing away from the shower. “Sit here and count the wall tiles. I'll be two minutes.”

“Jed…” she protested weakly.

“Lucy, I'm not leaving you out there alone. What if he or one of his men were the mongrels that assaulted that kid and left her to die?” He lifted her and carried her across the room to the chair. “Now, sit down and promise me you won't look.”

“Promise,” she whispered.

Jed nodded and headed to the shower. He stripped and showered quickly; constantly aware of the woman sitting behind him. He checked himself over as he showered. He had sore ribs, but didn't think anything was broken. Painkillers would deal with that and the headache. He dressed and went back over to her. “Hey, you OK?”

She struggled to open her eyes. “Fine.”

“Goodo.” He picked her up and headed out into the corridor.

Afla nodded. “This way.”

Jed followed him back to the room. A table stood between the chairs with a tray of food on it. Two bowls of rice and meat. It smelled like chicken and the sauce was pale yellow. Two glasses of water stood beside the bowls.

“Eat,” Afla said. “While you are doing that, we will retrieve your truck for you.”

“If it'll start,” Jed muttered. “It needs a jolly good service.”

Afla narrowed his eyes for a moment, then left, shutting the door.

Jed waited for the key to turn in the lock. It didn't. He gently put Lucy down on one of the chairs. “I don't believe this.”

“Just sit,” she whispered. “Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Hah.” He pushed the chair next to her and sat. “And what if it's a Trojan horse?”

“Then we're stuffed,” she said. “Tim said if we helped them when they turned up with an injured man, they might help us one day. I never for one moment imagined this scenario, though. But helping him was the right thing to do, no matter what he might have done, and no matter what my feelings at the time. It was what God wanted.”

Jed looked at the food. “Smells good.”

“Looks good.” She glanced at him. “Mind if I say grace first?”

He smiled. For now, he'd keep his new found faith between him and God. “Sure.”

“Is that sure you do mind or sure you don't mind?”

He chuckled. “Just say it before they change their minds and we starve to death.”

She winked at him. “It before they change their minds and we starve to death.”

He groaned and took her hand. “Just say it properly…no, actually don't say it properly.”

Lucy gripped his hand and said grace.

He ate, hungrier than he realized. Dismay filled him as Lucy only picked at her food.

She'd barely taken five mouthfuls before she put the spoon down and pushed the bowl away.

“You want that?” he asked.

She shook her head, pushing it to him. “You have it.”

“Luce…”

“Not hungry.”

His eyes held hers, and then he nodded. He made short work of the stew, finishing just as the door opened. He glanced up.

Their uniformed host stood there. “You are free to go. Your weapons are in your truck. I have ensured you have enough fuel to reach the city.” He held out Lucy's crutches.

“I'll carry her,” Jed said, knowing walking anywhere was beyond her now. He stood and swung her gently into his arms. “I got you.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, sliding an arm around his neck. “Good.”

Jed followed the uniformed men out to his Ute. He put Lucy in the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt. He turned to the man. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “We topped up your petrol tank. Once you reach the city, go to the main hospital. They will look after her. Any problems, mention my name.”

Jed nodded and ran around the driver's side. He jumped in and tried to start the engine. As usual, it just turned over and over and over.

Lucy looked at him, then at the man in uniform. “You never did give me your name.”

He smiled, white teeth beaming against his dark skin. “A little hard for you then to give it to anyone else. It's Kwame. Basi Kwame.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Jed asked, turning the engine again. The name was familiar, but where did he know it from?

“You do not. You have to go out in faith, Mr. Gorman.”

The Ute finally started. “Really must get this fixed,” he muttered. He raised a hand in farewell, accelerating out of the compound and back onto the main road.

Lucy took a deep breath. “Jed?”

“Don't say it.”

“No, I…I may not know much about the politics in this country, but the name Basi Kwame rings a bell.”

The truth hit Jed and he looked at her. “It should do. He's the President.”

Lucy's jaw dropped. “What?”

“My feelings exactly. It wasn't his men who hurt that kid, I know that much.” He turned his attention back to the road. “I'm gonna pull over in a few. You need travel meds and pain meds and if you've got something for a headache in there that would be good. Then it's best speed to the city. I want to make it by nightfall.”

He drove half a mile then pulled over to the side of the road, leaving the engine running. “If I get you the box, can you find the right meds?”

She fought to open her eyes. “Yeah.”

He frowned. “You all right?”

“Just really tired, that's all.”

Jed unfastened his seatbelt and knelt on the seat. He wouldn't get out in the rain if he could avoid it. Stretching as far as he could, he grabbed the box. “Here.”

Lucy pulled out the two shots and closed her eyes again.

Jed gave her the meds. He took the headache pills, swallowing them with a mouthful of water. Closing the box, he slotted it into the driver's door in case he needed it again. “Ready to go?” He didn't get an answer. “Lucy?”

She sat, eyes closed, chest barely moving. For a heart stopping moment, he thought she was dead, then she sighed and looked at him.

“Just wanna sleep,” she whispered.

“Then sleep, darl',” he said. He pulled a blanket from behind him and tucked it around her. Reaching down he checked her left foot. Cold didn't begin to cover what he could feel. He sat up. He needed to set a record for driving and pray they made it in time.

~*~

Lucy opened her eyes. The constant rain still drummed on the fabric roof of the truck and thudded on the windows. Despite the meds, she felt sick and lightheaded. “Where are we?”

“About fifty miles out,” Jed said. His hand touched her arm. “How you doing?”

She shrugged. “Not great. Knee looks like a football, but it doesn't hurt. Head's gone skip though.”