Marquez ignored him, gesturing impatiently for everyone to vacate his headquarters. “Out, everyone. Time to eat and then sleep.”
Finally, they would get some food! Maggie’s head spun with hunger.
“Comandante”—Boris stuck his neck out again—“could we possibly get our packs back? We’re not strong like you. Without ourmedicamentos, we could sicken and die.”
Despite the German’s tact, the commander scoffed at the request. “You think you deserve more than what we have because you’re rich?”
Boris firmed his lips and cut the others an apologetic grimace.
Marquez pointed firmly at the tree stumps. “Sit. Eat.”
The promise of food made Maggie eager to comply.Please let there be a ton of it.
Bellini came out of the bungalow without Esme. “She’s too sick to join us. But you’ll like our accommodations. There’s room for all of us and relative privacy.”
When they were finally served, Maggie eyed with disappointment the contents of the wooden bowl she was given, filled with nothing but rice and no silverware with which to eat it. Her drink was a sweet beverage she had tasted in her youth. “What’s this called?” she asked the same girl who’d given her the clothes she wore.
“Agua panela, señora. Boiled sugar cane and water.” With a shy smile, she darted away.
Forcing herself not to wolf down her dinner, Maggie savored each little bite of rice.
Boris, who finished first, said that he would check on Esme, and Bellini followed him, taking an extra cup ofagua panelafor her.
Marquez had retreated into his quarters, and Gallo had gone to rant at a young rebel for some unknown trespass. Left alone, Charles asked them in French, “So where do you think we are?”
Jake glanced up at the darkening sky. “Given where the sun went down, I’d say the west side of El Castillo, at an altitude of maybe ten or eleven thousand feet.”
Charles nodded. “I agree.”
Maggie noted while the female rebels were hard at work cleaning up after their meal, the boys were subjected to Gallo’s long-winded lecture.
“Well”—Charles pushed to his feet, handing his cup and bowl to the elder girl—“let’s get some sleep.Gracias,señoritas.”
Following his lead, with Jake right behind her, Maggie crossed toward the bungalow, pleased they would be sleepingoff the ground. Made of sturdy bamboo, all lashed together and topped by palm fronds, she prayed the bungalow was waterproof. Mats and blankets had been left out for them on the small veranda. Stepping into the cool interior, it took Maggie’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dark. When they did, she could see a long, protected walkway leading to five or six cubicles, each divided from the other by the same bamboo blinds that served as exterior walls, keeping out the bugs.
Coursing the walkway on one side, they passed the cubicles occupied by Arias and the other team members. After peeking into the last two available spaces, Charles waved her and Jake toward the last one while he took the one beside them.
When Maggie peeked out the back flap, Charles’s reason for placing them here became apparent. From this cubicle, she and Jake could slip out the rear of the building and into the wilderness without being observed by anyone.
As she tossed down the mat she’d picked up at the entrance, Jake joined her, laying his mat right alongside hers. Maggie eyed their sleeping arrangement with mixed anticipation and concern. Could she sleep next to Jake for two weeks and not make a fool of herself?
As she stood there brooding, he shook out a blanket, then fluffed out the mosquito netting hanging from a hook on the bamboo crossbeam until it surrounded their bed like a tent. How cozy.
As the others settled down with groans of relief, Jake gestured for Maggie to remove her boots and socks. “Take off anything that’s wet.” Thankfully, her water-resistant pants had dried by the fire, requiring her to strip only to her jog bra, as she had earlier that day.
Darting self-consciously under the mosquito net, she reclined on the far side of the mat, draping half of the blanket over her. On the other side of the diaphanous netting, Jakewas checking his chest and armpits—looking for parasites, she realized.Gross. Surreptitiously, she did the same, searching by feel as she regarded his immensely broad back. The effort it must have taken him to pack on so much muscle impressed her.
When he dropped his trousers unexpectedly, she rolled away to keep from becoming mesmerized. Grown-up Jake looked nothing like he had when they’d gone swimming in the university pool back in Paris. If skinny Jake could light her fire, imagine what grown-up Jake could do.
Chill out, Maggie. Act professional.
As he lowered himself onto the mat and joined her under the blanket, she scooted way over, sending him nonverbal cues that she didn’t need him to hold her as he had the previous night in La Esmeralda. She wasn’t afraid anymore. But her arm would go numb in this position.
Maggie spared a thought for her pillow back home. Then, as her hip began to ache, she longed for her mattress. She’d be a lot more comfortable rolling to her other side and using Jake’s chest for a pillow.
Don’t do it. You’ll only get used to it.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she heaved a long sigh.Just go to sleep. Between the endless climb and the deficit of calories, she felt like a wet towel, wrung out and left to dry. That was her last thought as she tumbled toward oblivion.