Morgan's Rescue (19 page)

     
With her thick, callused thumbs, Aurelia caressed Pilar's smooth cheeks. "
Mi niña,
this is your final test before you can approach the jaguar goddess and ask
her blessing to become an apprentice. This mission will be a test for you in every way." Her voice dropped to almost a growl as she said, "Whatever you do, my little one, you must walk with an open heart. Do you hear me? Do you understand? Even though this man throws arrows of anger and hurt, you must not close your heart to him or anything around you. To do so is to fail this test. Be receptive. Continue to love without anger, guilt or shame."

     
Pilar's eyes widened at those words. Looking into the wise, velvety depths of her grandmother's eyes, Pilar knew the old woman was aware of the shameful secret she'd carried eight years. Choking on sudden tears of gratitude, Pilar whispered, "I understand, Grandmother."

     
Aurelia smiled, her entire face radiating with a loving glow. "Tonight, we will hold an
ayahuasca
ceremony for you, to beseech the jaguar goddess on your behalf to protect and watch over you and this
Norte Americano.
"

     
"Thank you," Pilar whispered. "I want to pray for Morgan Trayhern, too, Grandmother. If anyone needs prayers, it is that brave man, not me."

     
Chuckling indulgently, Aurelia released Pilar and planted a swift kiss on her brow. "You make the jaguar spirit happy with such unselfish love for another,
mi niña.
That is why I pray strongly that your walk with death will not be final, that you can place your feet on the rainbow bridge, but also come back from it—back to your people.
That you can give your heart again, without the clouding of the past as before."

     
Surrounded by the comfort of her grandparents' love, Pilar felt her burden easing. They had been her nurturing support for so many years—since the deaths of her parents. She realized that she hadn't visited them often enough or long enough in the past eight years. Her stays had generally been limited to weekends, two or three times a year, and Rane always cried when they had to fly back to
Lima
. Well, didn't she want to cry at the thought of leaving, also? Looking around the simple thatched hut, and at the kind intelligence in the faces of her grandparents, Pilar felt a new stirring in her heart.

     
"If I survive this mission," she said in a tremulous tone, "I want to come home. I want to come back here and live with you. I've missed family so much—more than I've realized until now. And Rane needs the love and support you have for her. She needs to know her people, the source of her soul and blood."

     
Aurelia glowed in approval as she stood in the doorway. "We pray it will be so,
mi niña.
Nothing would give us more happiness than to have you here at the village with us. You will begin to apprentice with me and learn the ways of the
shamanka.
"

     
Sadly, Pilar whispered, "I've been so blind, Grandmother. You were here all along. Why didn't I realize that? Why did I have to spend two years in Lima alone after Fernando died, trying to raise Rane by myself? I've suffered so much by doing that. You know how our society looks down on a woman and child without a man. I have endured name-calling and accusing looks, as if I should apologize for living when my husband is dead. They insisted I should remarry, but my heart belongs to just one man…and I can never have him again. . . ."

     
"Be patient,
mi niña,
" Aurelia soothed. "Though the spirit of the jaguar is harsh upon us, she is also bountiful in rewarding those who pass the trials she sets before us. Be patient. Perhaps all your dreams can be fulfilled."

     
Pilar got up, smiling brokenly. "I have no more dreams, Grandmother. They died when Culver almost died—for me. I don't live for myself. I live because of Rane. She deserves a mother, someone who loves her fully. I don't want to be yanked out of her life as my mother and
father were
from mine."

     
Frowning, Aurelia murmured, "We must pray very hard tonight."

     
Pilar left the hut, following her grandmother down the mountain. Aurelia was in her early eighties, spry despite her weight and age. The trees became thicker as they got farther from the village. Pilar knew without being told that her grandmother was going to a special spot where the
ayahuasca
vine grew wild. The day was warm, the sun shining brightly through wisps of clouds.

     
Pilar knew that her grandparents had seen death many times. Ramirez and his men had slaughtered more than thirty people from their farming village in the past twenty years, and there wasn't a family in the region completely unaffected by his atrocities. She also knew the chances of surviving the mission were small, as Culver had so coldly pointed out. As the breeze playfully lifted and twisted strands of her hair around her face, Pilar regretted so much.

     
I
t took every vestige of Pilar's control to hide her tears when Rane stretched her slim arms up around Culver's neck. As he bent to say farewell to her, her daughter's eyes were wet with tears. Culver had crouched and taken her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. He wore a heavy pack on his back and had to balance it during Rane's unexpected embrace.

     
"Keep Mama safe," the little girl sobbed against his neck, her face pressed against him. "Don't let her get hurt. I love her. She's all I have left. Take care of her, Culver."

     
Culver patted Rane's narrow shoulder tenderly. Unexpectedly, tears dampened his own eyes as he held her small form to him. This morning when he'd gotten up from the hut where he'd slept alone, he'd been in a foul humor. He'd grimly expected Pilar to be late for their agreed-upon 0600 meeting at the edge of the village. And he hadn't expected Rane to be waiting at her side, gripping her hand as if letting go would be releasing her to her death. The look on the child's usually joyous face softened his feelings, melting away the angry defenses he'd erected in his heart earlier this morning.

     
Rane's hair was soft and smelled freshly washed, hanging loose all the way to her narrow hips. She had placed a small pink orchid in her hair, attaching it awkwardly with a bobby pin, the delicate flower accentuating her innocent loveliness. Placing his hands on her shaking shoulders, Culver eased her a few inches away from him. The child sniffled and, with trembling hands, tried bravely to scrub her eyes free of tears as she looked up at him. Such emotion showed in her light brown eyes that he managed a small smile for her benefit.

     
"It's going to be all right," he said, defying his own hard-and-fast rule about not underplaying the danger of any given mission. Gently taming errant strands of hair back from Rane's damp
cheek,
he placed them behind her tiny ear. At seven-and-a-half, she wore petite diamond earrings that made her look even more feminine.

     
"M-Mama says you're a w-warrior from long ago," Rane stammered between sobs. "She s-says you saved her life once before."

     
Culver's gaze flicked to Pilar, standing a few feet away.
Another lie.
"Well…" he hedged, "our lives were saved because we worked together like a good team." Actually, Pilar had saved his miserable hide. That was the truth of the matter. Still, deep within himself, Culver could understand why Pilar had turned that particular fact around to offer her fearful daughter solace. He saw tears glittering in Pilar's own eyes, her hand pressed to her mouth as if to stop a sob struggling to break free.

     
Culver leaned over and kissed Rane's damp, pale cheek. Throwing caution and his conservative training to the wind, he said, "Listen, your mama underwent a sacred ceremony last night and it will give her protection. She's going to be all right, Rane." He hoped to God his words would prove true.

     
Hiccuping through her tears, Rane reached out and touched his recently shaven cheek. "Y-you promise?"

     
Culver hung his head, avoiding the child's innocent eyes. How the hell could he promise such a thing? Her small hand, so delicate and soft, rested against his cheek, holding the same kind of warmth he'd always noted in Pilar's. Pilar came from a family of healers, and he'd guessed that was behind the heat radiating from her hands, so he wasn't surprised Rane possessed the same warm touch.
Oh, what the hell.
"
Yeah, Rane, I promise I'll bring your mama home alive.
How's that?"

     
Instantly, Culver saw Rane's expression change. She was like a chameleon, in a sense—just as Pilar was. Culver knew Peruvian
shamankas
were known as "shape-shifters," able to turn themselves not only into animals, but into other human forms as well. Rane obviously possessed the rudiments of that ability, he thought, as he watched her small face lighten, her eyes glow brightly with relief and hope.

     
"Oh," she cried, flinging herself back into his arms and wrapping her own as tightly as she could around his neck, "thank you, Culver. Thank you!" Excitedly, she tore from his grasp, touched the orchid resting in her hair, then worked for several moments to free it. "Here, I want you to take this with you. Grandmother says I have orchid medicine. She says that if I give a person an orchid, he will be healed and protected. I want you to be safe, too. . . ." Rane became somber as she leaned over and eased the small bloom into Culver's left shirt pocket, which she studiously buttoned so the flower couldn't be lost on their trek.

     
"There," she said seriously. "I will go to my altar that Grandmother helped me set up in our
casa,
and I will pray for you, too."

     
Reaching out, Culver caressed Rane's hair. "Now I do feel safe," he said to her in a husky tone. The love shining in the child's eyes rocked him. Rane tilted her head, watching as he straightened and rearranged the heavy pack straps pulling at his shoulders.

     
"It's time to go," Pilar called gently. She caressed Rane's hair, leaning down one last time to hug her daughter tightly, before releasing her. Out of nowhere, her grandparents appeared. Though they were both old, their features worn by life, Pilar saw the gentleness glowing in their weathered faces. A fog hung just above the jungle, and the humidity was high. She fought tears again as Rane ran to stand between the aged couple. A ragged breath escaped her as she gazed at her family. Chances were good that she would never see any of them again.

     
Her heart nearly broke with grief. What would happen to Rane? As Pilar looked over at Culver, she saw that his expression remained tender from the child's unexpected attention. Rane had magic in her touch, but then, her heart was pure and she was innocent, and Pilar knew how easily Culver responded to that combination. Once, she had been like that.

     
"Come on," he rasped gruffly as he passed her on the well-beaten trail leading down the slope toward the jungle.

     
Raising her hand, Pilar tried to smile at Rane, but didn't succeed. Turning quickly, she fought back tears and blindly followed Culver's huge, striding form down the trail. Some of her anguish eased as they left the upper world of sunlight, clouds and villagers and entered the darkened labyrinth of the jungle. The heavy humidity enveloped Pilar, and instantly she began to perspire as she struggled to maintain her balance with the heavy pack jostling against palms, vines and other encroaching plant life. It almost seemed as if the plants were wishing them well, patting them,
reaching
out in their own way as the two humans trod ever deeper into the jungle. A blessing of sorts for a successful journey, Pilar hoped.

     
Hurrying to keep up with Culver, Pilar sensed how upset he was.
Because of Rane's unexpected request?
Probably.
She certainly knew that he didn't want to be here with her. The trail continued to descend along the slope of the hill, and here and there, Pilar could hear droplets tapping from one leaf to another as the thick fog condensed. Above her, the opaque white mist floated like a billowy canopy over the entire region. But it was usual for fog to embrace the jungle until about ten each morning.

     
About a mile into the jungle, the trail widened enough to allow two people to walk easily side by side. Culver turned and looked expectantly at Pilar. Her skin had
a sheen
of moisture on it, and her eyes were dark and focused. He saw the stubborn set to her mouth and instantly wanted to kiss her—kiss her until she melted against him. The errant thought was an unwelcome interruption to his own focused attention, and he scowled as she drew to a halt a few feet from him.