Page 66 of Hunter's Mission

“Yes. Absolutely yes.” He stiffened beside me and whispered, “We have company, to your right.”

I snapped my gaze to the edge of the clearing and gasped. “Yamania.”

Letting go of Hunter’s hand, I stood and took a tentative step toward her.

I wished I could talk to her and tell her how sorry I was.

When she didn’t flee, I took another step.

“I’m so sorry,” I said even though I knew she didn’t understand me. I shook my head, hoping the emotions twisting up my insides conveyed my sincerity.

She gave me a slight nod, then offered a purple orchid flower toward me.

Tears pooled in my eyes as I closed the distance to her. My throat was so swollen with sorrow that I could barely breathe as I accepted the flower from her. “Thank you.”

As she nodded, her gaze lowered to my arms.

“I’m sorry for what happened to Na-lynied and your jungle. I’m so, so sorry.”

She pointed at one of my many cuts along my forearm.

I brushed my fingers over an inch-long cut that was still bright red. “Yes. I’ve been through a bit of trouble.”

I showed her my right leg which was patterned with cuts and bruises.

Yamania’s eyes darkened.

“It’s a long story,” I said, barely able to comprehend what I’d been through since I last saw her.

Yamania walked away, vanishing within the bushes.

Releasing a sigh, I sniffed the orchid flower she’d given me, but like many orchids, while this one was beautiful, it didn’t have a pleasant scent. I turned toward Hunter and offered a lopsided smile. “She’s gone.”

“That didn’t go so bad though.” He opened his hands like he was giving a peace offering.

“At least she didn’t try to spear me again.”

Hunter nodded over my shoulder, and I turned around. Yamania was back. In her hand was a plant with small, pale green leaves that she’d pulled from the ground, roots and all. She pointed at the grass, and it took me a couple of seconds to understand that she wanted me to sit.

When I sat down, Yamania broke a few leaves off the plant, and as she rubbed them in her palms, she bit off a chunk of the dirt-covered root and chewed it. She spat the chewed-up root into her hands and mixed it with the leaves, then squatting at my side, she used her finger to paint the olive-colored paste over the cuts on my legs.

Tears pooled in my eyes at her tenderness. After everything I’d done to her and her village and her jungle home, this beautiful soul still wanted to help me.

I glanced at Hunter, and he gave me a knowing nod.

Yamania brushed more of her herbal remedy over the cuts on my arms.

I had no idea what the name of the plant was that she was using on my wounds, and for the first time since I’d arrived in this jungle environment, I didn’t want to know. These beautiful people deserved to have their pristine home remain unspoiled and sacred.

Some secrets were better left untouched.

My ointment would help so many people, but at what cost?

The people in the Manouthiciara tribe did not need nor want my ointment, or any Western products, ruining their lives. I’d achieved what I’d come here to do: make an ointment that would heal burned skin. But the formula for that ointment was a secret I would never reveal.

A thumping beat shattered our reverie. I glanced at the sky.

Jumping back, Yamania gasped.

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