The Promise of Rain
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Rula Sinara
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Chapter One
“HEY!” DR. ANNA BEKKER shielded her face as she peered up into the sprawling acacia tree that shaded her observation platform, and spotted her primate stalker. One bite of leftover fruit tossed to him in sympathy and four years later the little guy was as much a part of camp as anyone.
“Ambosi, you sadistic fool, fruit pits are not the way to get a girl’s attention. Get lost. I’m not playing,” Anna said, rubbing the lingering sore spot on the top of her head. He cackled and grinned before scrambling off on his three limbs to a nearby grove of elephant pepper trees for more ammunition. Some guys could not take a hint.
A screech pierced the background symphony of the Serengeti and an elephant rumble thrummed the air as the blood-orange hues of daybreak embraced the left side of Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. Such a breathtaking balance of power and serenity. A daily affirmation that she’d made the right decision five years ago. Anna downed the last of her coffee.
Time to face her beloved chaos.
Tightening her fingers around the metal handle of her mug, she braced herself on the edge of the wooden platform she’d helped erect, and hopped down. A mushroom of dust billowed around her boots.
Anna looked up at the sky. Solid, morbid blue. They needed rain—badly—and they were still a month away from the start of the next rainy season. The Busara Research camp had tapped into an underground stream, but animals didn’t have pump wells or deep roots. Even Busara’s well was getting low. If any more riverbeds dried up, the herds would either move beyond Anna’s observation area, or die. As if the poaching numbers this year hadn’t been bad enough. She sighed and trudged toward the bustle and calls of a camp coming to life. Rounds before research had become her game plan over the past few years. Busara included a small nursery, mainly for baby elephants orphaned by poaching, but really for any animal Anna didn’t have the heart to turn away.
Even cheeky little monkeys.
She passed the wooden enclosures and metal-roofed structure that served as her clinic, and headed for the even more rustic multipurpose tent that doubled as their kitchen and mess hall. She needed her morning dose of sweet, little girl kisses before going on her rounds, another daily reassurance that she was doing what was best for everyone. She waved at two keepers leading their patients out of the pens for a morning bath, but dropped her hand at the skin-prickling shriek that came from the far side of camp.
The children.
Anna’s chest tightened and she took off at a run, dodging another keeper on his way to their well with a metal bucket. She rushed into the mess tent, the screen door slamming behind her.
“Usijali, Anna. Don’t worry. She’s fine. Just couldn’t wait for her ugali to cool down,” said Niara, Anna’s friend and nanny, as she held a cup of potable water to Pippa’s mouth. Framed between rampant curls and the rim of the cup, two green eyes widened.
“Mommy!” Burned tongue forgotten, her little girl pushed the cup away and shimmied off the wooden bench. Anna scooped her up. “I got a boo-boo,” Pippa said, pinching the tip of her tongue between two fingers and tugging it as far out of her mouth as she could. Not all the mash had washed down. Lovely.
“I see that,” Anna said, her pulse still racing from the scare. “But how many times have I said don’t scream like that unless there’s danger?”
Crying from pain, Anna could understand. After all, Pippa was only four. But the shrill death call her baby had taken to recently was getting old fast. Anna dreaded what Pippa’s next animal imitation would be. She’d already mastered baboons, hyenas, elephants and a number of birds. This piercing alarm of a guinea fowl defending its nest took crying wolf to a whole new level.
“You told me burns are dangewus,” Pippa insisted.
Yes, she had. Anna wrinkled her nose. At least her daughter hadn’t taken up biting...yet.
“Never mind. Next time, wait until Auntie Niara says the grits are cool.”
“I did.”
“No, she didn’t,” Haki said, sitting up a little straighter.
Only one year older than Pippa, Niara’s son took his responsibility as the older child to heart—insisting on fairness and the following of rules. Ever since he’d overheard the keepers talk of the tragic fate of a curious Masai child who’d wandered away from her village, he’d chosen to stick to the rules and stay close to his mother...and made sure Pippa did, too. Poor Haki had no clue that he was inadvertently challenging his headstrong playmate. Give her a few years and he wouldn’t know what hit him.
He wouldn’t know what hit him.
Anna pressed her lips together, steeling herself against the sadness that came in random spurts, like whenever Pippa’s determined expression mirrored her father’s. A constant reminder of the choice Anna had made. He’s never going to forgive you. No one will. They won’t understand. Anna scratched the back of her neck with both hands. Dwelling on it wouldn’t get her anywhere. She pulled the elastic band out of her hair, combed her hair back with her fingers and reset her ponytail.
“How about you finish your breakfast. I bet it’s ready now, and I need to get to work,” Anna said.
“Come, Pippa,” Niara said, extending her hand. “Let Mama eat something, too.”
“I already had coffee.”
“Coffee isn’t breakfast. You’ll start to look like Ambosi if you don’t eat more.”
The children giggled and Anna couldn’t resist smiling. Niara’s melodic emphasis on her syllables when she spoke English always added to the warmth of her innocent humor. With Niara, everything came from the heart. A resilient heart, despite the trauma the woman had suffered. After they met, Niara had wasted no time in making sure Anna didn’t pity her, or herself.
“No, really. I’ll break for lunch early. I need to check on Bakhari’s bandages.” Anna turned to Haki and Pippa. “Work hard on your books and maybe there’ll be time for a ride to see the herds.”
“Yay!” Both children clapped, spreading sticky fig nectar and ugali on their palms.
“How are we on supplies?” Anna asked, prompted by the food mess. Niara wrinkled her nose and shrugged. Great. So they were getting low. She hoped they had enough funds to cover a restocking trip. Especially for water purification.
Approaching the end of her research grant meant the area’s watering holes and creeks weren’t the only things drying out. Getting her research permit extended a second time wasn’t going to happen if funds weren’t available. As to whether funds were available, Anna still hadn’t gotten any email replies.
It didn’t help that their power had gone out. She rubbed her temples. Going back to the United States was not an option. Anna wasn’t ready to go back. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Facing the past meant explaining the present...and she couldn’t risk losing more than she already had. Her gut turned and she swallowed hard against the coffee’s acidity. She was jumping the gun again. Worrying for nothing. She took a deep breath and forced a carefree smile.
“Okay. I need to run an inventory of necessities at the clinic, too. Let me know what we need beyond that and we’ll make plans.” She rounded the table, kissed Pippa and Haki on top of their heads and left before Niara could read her face.
The funding would come through. It had to.
* * *
ANNA DROPPED THE USED syringe in a plastic container. Her head keeper, Ahron, whisked it away. All supplies had to be kept outside the pens, far from trunk reach. She ran her hands gently around Bakhari’s ankle, checking for any loose wrapping. His bandages were holding nicely. They’d once dealt with a baby elephant who had used his trunk to work off his dressings during the night. Trunks were tricky. Anna stood and scratched the soft spot behind the baby’s ear. He flapped it gratefully. Hopefully, the antibiotics would do their job. Blasted snares.
They’d been lucky in recent months, but they lost an orphan often enough, and it tore her up every time. Painful memories. Bakhari looked at Anna, then wrapped his trunk loosely around her arm, as if to say that he understood she’d been there, too. And maybe he did. There was something to be said for an animal’s sixth sense. Anna had witnessed the phenomenon and believed the stories she’d heard and read about.
“Did he drink any milk?” she asked, as she unwound herself from Bakhari’s hug and forced herself back into clinical mode.
“Demanding one, he is,” Ahron said. “Pulled my cover off several times to let me know he was hungry.”
“That’s a good sign. Thanks.” Anna left the pen and stopped outside to log notes on Bakhari’s treatment and progress, noting the feedings and outdoor exercise schedules.
She looked up at the sound of the camp’s battered mobile vet Jeep approaching. A trail of dust lingered in its wake. Kamau must have gone back out in search of Bakhari’s mother, after not finding her near the calf yesterday. Elephant cows were highly maternal, and herds stuck together to protect their young, so finding Bakhari alone raised questions. Anna shielded her eyes against the sun and watched them approach. She was so grateful for having another vet on staff. Kamau’s dedication to their work at Busara was heart-rending and had made all the difference since he joined them shortly after her research began.
“Anything?” she asked, stepping forward after the Jeep came to a stop.
Kamau jumped down. His team followed suit, unloading the gear and supply boxes that needed cleaning or replenishing. The grim lines on Kamau’s face said it all. Anna dropped her hand to her side.
“Oh.” She let out a breath and shook her head. “Where?”
“About forty-five kilometers southwest of here. Poachers. No sign of a herd. The herd might have gone back to find the calf, or taken the rest to safety. I already radioed in to the authorities.”
“This is bad,” Anna said. The crackdown on poaching had made a difference in recent years, but unfortunately, hadn’t eradicated it. But this incident... Forty-five kilometers was too close. The camp location had been chosen specifically because of its slight elevation and proximity to the range of one particular herd they’d been studying. If that herd got chased away, or killed... Anna draped her hand across the back of her neck and squeezed at the growing tension. It was more than the research that worried her. The deaths were wrong, and the orphans, well, Busara couldn’t afford any more. If she had it her way, Busara would grow into a fully equipped animal rescue center. But that wasn’t possible right now.
“Things are worse than you think,” Kamau said, walking away.
“Worse? What do you mean?” Nothing was worse than illegal, merciless killing. Anna returned the clipboard to its nail on the post outside the pen and doubled her steps to catch up with Kamau as he trudged toward the mess tent. He stopped a few yards from it and waited for her.
“We finally fixed the generator last night and got the computer running, although the satellite internet connection did give me some trouble at first. We got an email from your Dr. Miller. Apparently, he’s sending someone out here to check on our status,” he said, lowering his already deep voice so it wouldn’t carry through the screens.
Okay. Much, much worse. Why would Dr. Miller do that? Especially with such short notice.
“Like an audit? That’s ridiculous. He has reports and photos, and he’s never questioned my requests. It’s not like we’re living an extravagant life here,” Anna said, bracing her hands on her hips.
Of course, this grant request involved permit extension fees, an endorsement and lots of paperwork to prove that she’d complete the study and produce a paper out of it. Anna understood that more was on the line this time, but an audit? Overkill, Miller.
Kamau splayed his palms.
“He didn’t use the word, but what else do you call sending someone from his board out here to report back on our status? According to him, it’s not a big deal. The fellow happens to be in Nairobi giving a lecture and doing some collaborative work. Miller suggested he ‘drop by,’ as if Busara was in the neighborhood.”
Right. Just like some of the locals were convinced that, coming from the States, she had to be best friends with Tom Caine of Beastly In-Laws. She had never even seen the show and Miller had clearly not seen a map of western Kenya. Anna shook her head.
“When?” she asked.
“Yesterday.”
That figured. Expected yesterday and not yet here. Africa time. Lax schedules were such an accepted part of life here that Anna wasn’t sure why she still bothered wearing her watch. She rubbed its dusty face with the pad of her thumb. Given the delay in getting Miller’s email, their visitor’s tardiness was a relief. She scanned the camp. Everything seemed to be running as smoothly as could be expected. Nothing that would jeopardize funding other than several more orphans that Miller wasn’t yet aware of, and the threat of poachers. He’d try to use that on her again, but Anna had no doubt they were safe. She’d never have Niara and the children here with her otherwise. Kamau put a lot of miles on their Jeep. None of the actual killings had occurred close enough to camp to endanger anyone. Yes, the last killing had been closer than usual, but the poachers were after tusked elephants. There was nothing of value to them at camp. Miller didn’t understand the difference—just like he didn’t comprehend that Busara wasn’t “around the block” from Nairobi. All he worried about was liability and cost control.
“He’s never sent anyone, Anna. This can’t be good,” Kamau said.
“You’re right. Having someone show up at the same time as this incident isn’t ideal, but Miller has never denied me funding before, and he’s fully aware of the orphan nursery. And as far as the Kenyan government is concerned, I’m helping the wildlife. There’s no logical reason for not getting the permits and funds needed. It’ll be fine. Like you said, this person just happens to be in Kenya for other reasons. You’re worrying for nothing. This is a bunch of red tape. Miller is dotting his i’s,” Anna said, trying to believe her own words. But she wasn’t convinced the nursery’s growing needs wouldn’t pose a problem.
After all, Miller had been her mentor in vet school. He’d supported her one-year exchange student internship to a Kenyan wildlife reservation after graduation, and had taken on her study suggestion after she told him Kenya had become home and she wasn’t ready to leave. She didn’t mention that she had a child until the specifics of the arrangements went through. As far as he was concerned, the father was in Kenya. Miller didn’t ask and she didn’t tell, knowing full well there were things an employer couldn’t legally question.
Dr. Miller had included Busara in a university trust he’d formed to support animal rescue work and research. But he had, over the past year, expressed his concern for her. He’d offered to keep the initiative going with a replacement vet so that she could raise her daughter in “civilization.” Anna had refused. She hoped this wasn’t another attempt of his to replace her. That this person “dropping by” wasn’t a prospective vet scoping out his or her future lodgings. Anna couldn’t let Miller lose faith in her. This was more than her project. It was her home.
Kamau opened the mess tent’s screen door, but turned back to Anna before entering.
“I’m not sure I share your optimism, but let me know when our visitor arrives so that I can smile for them.” He gave an exaggerated grin, sarcastic yet beautiful and white against his dark skin. He was quite handsome when he managed to relax. And completely silly-looking with the uncharacteristic expression. Anna laughed.
“Now, how could they refuse that smile anything,” she said.
He disappeared into the tent and she watched through the screen as he teased the children, who were doing some activity at a table with Niara. Anna’s heart swelled at the sound of Pippa’s giggles when Kamau pretended not to know who was hiding under the mop of curls. There was plenty of love here. Plenty of spirit and noble intentions. The truest examples of right and wrong and selflessness.
Nothing like the past.
Anna couldn’t think of a more civilized place to raise a child.
* * *
JACKSON HARPER HAD always assumed four-wheel drives had shock absorbers—and four wheels. After the last pothole, he wasn’t so sure this vehicle had either left. He grabbed the frame of the windshield to keep from getting ejected, and tried to swallow despite all the dust in his mouth. He didn’t dare let go long enough to dig for the water bottle in his backpack. As exhausting as his trip had been so far, at least the flight from Nairobi to the small airstrip in the central part of the Amboseli Reserve had been uneventful. But once his driver left the paved road for a more...rustic path toward Busara, things went downhill. And Jack considered himself an outdoorsman. Somehow, camping out by a lake stocked with fish near his parents’ home in Pennsylvania didn’t come close to getting chased by a female rhino whose calf had ventured too far from the cover of brush. It had been only a matter of yards, but Jack’s adrenaline was still pumping strong.
As if knowing that in minutes he’d come face-to-face with Anna Bekker wasn’t enough to cause arrhythmia. Dr. Bekker. Five years, three days since she’d rejected his proposal. Since she’d refused to even consider his reasoning behind asking his best friend to marry him. A frisson of panic caused Jack to look back through a cloud of dust. What if mama rhino hadn’t given up?
“Usijali. Don’t worry.” The driver laughed. Jack turned toward him, annoyed by the implication.
“I wanted to make sure she wasn’t following us into Busara,” Jack said. To Anna.
“Ahh. We are the invaders. Not her. Don’t worry. She was just showing who is boss.”
“Very reassuring,” Jack said, wiping his upper lip with the back of his hand.
No doubt Anna would feel he’d invaded her territory, too. As for losing her and destroying their friendship, he knew that had already happened years ago. The roar of her silence had carried clear across ocean and land to the corner of his lab. His research on immunology and genetic resistance in wildlife populations had earned him a lot of respect since then, but apparently not hers. And that was fine with him. If it weren’t for his collaborative work with a researcher in Nairobi and his department head, Dr. Miller, he wouldn’t be here. But Miller had appointed him to oversee trust and grant fund distribution. He’d baited him, too, saying flat out that Dr. Bekker ran Busara and that he needed Jackson to check on Busara’s increasing expenses. That the department’s projects and expenses needed pruning if they were to adequately fund Jack’s latest research initiative.
Jack had been too stupid to resist. Too curious.
The early afternoon sun seemed to crackle against his forearm. The dry heat would have been nice but for the intense equatorial rays. He pulled the brim of his re-purposed fisherman’s hat down to shield his eyes. His Oakley sunglasses had disappeared back at the airport in Nairobi, when he’d set them down on top of his luggage while looking through his travel paperwork. Lesson learned, as was the fact that there was no overnight delivery for internet shoppers where he was headed.
They rounded a short hill covered in tall, dry grasses and shrubs, and came to a flat clearing. The driver slowed down considerably, pointing ahead for Jack’s benefit.
Busara.
Nothing but wooden, tentlike structures, two with metal roofs, and a number of enclosures to the west side of camp. More like a cross between a tiny village and a campsite. The juxtaposition of cinnamon-colored land dappled with acacia trees against the cool, snowcapped mountain backdrop was a photographer’s dream. He hoped his camera was still intact...and not missing. Maybe he’d capture one last picture of Anna to torture himself with.
An elephant blared and a chorus of raucous calls followed. The Jeep veered around the remains of a tree that looked as if it had been beaten down and crushed, then made a straight line for Busara.
The driver came to a stop near the center of camp and climbed out, but Jackson didn’t move.
She had stepped out from one of the pens and stood there, beautiful as ever, except for the look of shock—or, more likely, horror—on her face.
She’d changed, though. Still slender, yet more curved. How many times had he imagined seeing her again? How many hours of sleep had he lost to anticipation? He knew they had access to food and supplies as needed, but during his flight he’d dreamed up a ridiculous picture of her as emaciated, waiting for him to rescue her from the wilds of Africa, desperate to return home. Fat chance. She looked about as happy to see him as that mother rhino had been.
Anna shifted her feet and glanced toward one of the screened-in tents, then back at him.
Too late to run and hide, Anna, but don’t worry—two days and I’m gone for good.
* * *
THE CLOUD OF volcanic dust that had churned up around the Jeep was still settling like smoke in a disappearing act, but he wasn’t disappearing.
Jack? No way. Impossible.
Anna stared, unable to move her legs for the life of her. Her thoughts scattered like a startled flock of jacanas. The email from Dr. Miller... She knew he was sending someone to check up on them, but Jack? It couldn’t be. He didn’t work for Miller, at least not that she was aware of, and Miller would have said something. The university’s vet school and associated research departments were a relatively small community. Wouldn’t her boss have at least mentioned his name? Unless it was in the email and Kamau hadn’t thought his name made a difference.
Pippa’s laughter carried from the mess tent. Had Dr. Miller suspected all along and sent Jack on purpose? Why now? The lunch Anna had managed to break for less than an hour ago churned in her stomach. She needed to think straight. Control the situation. Prioritize. She needed to get to the mess tent. She needed to tell Niara to keep the kids inside, but she had no way to do that. Not with Jack staring her down.
“This our man?” Kamau asked in a low voice, as he stepped up behind her and waved at Jack. Anna nodded, unable to find her voice.
This wasn’t supposed to happen now. She wasn’t ready for this. Even though her dream of seeing him again still managed to creep out of hiding every sunrise, Jack standing there in person changed everything. He wasn’t here for her. Miller had sent him. That ruined everything.
The driver was busy unloading some cardboard boxes marked “supplies.” Apparently Miller had taken some initiative with the last summary she’d sent him regarding what they needed money for this month. Jack grabbed his backpack and what looked like a large metal case, and began closing in on her. Anna braced herself. Treat this like any other emergency situation. In a calm, cool manner.
Calm? With Jack, and everything his presence ever did to her heart, here in her world? Right. Calm as a wildebeest with its butt in the jaws of a croc.
“Anna,” Jack said with a curt nod. He hiked his backpack higher onto his left shoulder, then took off his hat, tucked it under one arm.
“Jack. Um...” She turned to Kamau. Get it together. She cleared her throat. “Kamau. This is Jackson Harper. Jack, meet Dr. Kamau Odaba, the other vet here.”
Jack shook Kamau’s hand.
“Jambo. Call me Kamau. I hope your trip was...comfortable,” he said. Anna did a double take at Kamau’s grin. He’d actually done it! As if a grin could get her out of Hades.
“Absolutely. The scenery is incredible,” Jack said. He raked his hair back and his tight, warm brown waves, tamed by his hat, sprang back to life. He’d always hated the curl in his hair and kept it cropped short and neat, almost military style, for as long as Anna could remember. Several days’ worth of stubble shaded his jawline, too. So unlike him. And he looked really good in these surroundings, in an Indiana Jones sort of way. Reality, Anna. Stick to reality.
“Would you prefer a hug?”
Anna realized belatedly he’d extended his hand and was waiting. She shot her hand out and shook his. No way was he getting a hug, especially not with that daring, smug look on his face.
Get it together, Anna. This is your turf.
She straightened her stiff shoulders and released a steady breath. “Welcome to Busara. It was great of you to bring along some supplies. How long are you staying?” she added, regretting how rude she sounded.
“As long as he likes, of course. Come, I’ll show you where you can stay and settle in,” Kamau said, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder and guiding him toward the tent adjacent to their mess hall. He looked back, giving Anna a “make nice” frown. She jogged after them. Niara. She had to warn Niara. She needed time to figure out how to handle this.
“Wait,” she said. “I think you should show him the clinic first. I’m sure you can’t wait to see the setup. Right, Jack?”
“I do want to see it, but I’d like to unpack my lab supplies first. I’m only planning to be here a couple of days, and I have some samples to collect.” He started walking away, acting as if she was nothing more than a forgotten acquaintance. Of all the—
“Dr. Bekker.” Ahron stuck his head out of the clinic to their left. “I caught a snake in one of the pens. I put it in a jar for you.”
Jack stopped in his tracks and turned, looking at Anna with raised brows. Ahron noticed the newcomer and looked at Anna apologetically.
“Don’t worry. It’s not like it’s a black mamba,” he added, for Jack’s benefit.
Anna smiled and shrugged. Not a mamba, maybe, but the area’s pythons were deadly, too. Snakes were fairly shy about venturing through their camp, but anything could happen, which was why Niara never left the children alone. Ever. If she wasn’t with them, then Anna or another responsible person was. Plus, the kids were kept, for the most part, in screened-in areas. Jack wouldn’t be able to use that against her. She knew how to run a safe operation.
Jack cranked his neck to the side and ran a finger along the collar of the short-sleeved button-down he wore untucked, then wiped his palm on his jeans. He adjusted his backpack again. He didn’t look too comfortable and she was pretty sure it wasn’t the heat.
Perfect. A distraction.
Anna mimicked Kamau’s earlier grin. “Would you like to go see it? It’s in a jar,” she said.
“Mama! Niara said we could see the babies!”
Anna looked past Jack and her heart sank into the hot dirt. Niara came out of the mess tent with Pippa perched on her hip and Haki holding her hand. Jack turned his head to follow her gaze and almost turned back. Almost. He did a double take, zeroed in on Pippa and froze. His shoulders tensed visibly. Anna closed her eyes, but didn’t dare imagine what was going through his head.
“It’s okay with you, Anna? We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Niara said, glancing shyly at Jack.
“It’s...it’s fine.” Her voice came out weak, even to her own ears. She opened her eyes slowly. “Just stay to the outside of the enclosures, on this side.”
Niara passed with the kids, giving Anna a subtle frown. Jack’s gaze stayed trained on them. Kamau looked at Anna and cocked his head. He couldn’t know, but clearly no one had missed the uncanny resemblance—auburn curls, green eyes—between Pippa and Jack. Anna could see suspicion shading their glances. Only suspicion, she reminded herself. She hadn’t said or explained or admitted to anything. She still had some control over the situation and she needed to use it to keep Jack from closing himself off to reason. She knew firsthand how single-minded he could be.
Look where it had gotten them.
Jack stared right at Anna and she fought to hold his gaze with equal frost. She couldn’t let him win this. He narrowed his eyes and brushed the corner of his mouth against his sleeve. She tucked back a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail and forced a smile as she set her hands on her hips, challenging him, though she felt as if she’d crawled under the bones in an elephant graveyard and died. She’d never felt so hopeless or as alienated from him as she did right now.
Poached by a single look.
* * *
JACK GLANCED AT the kids peering into the wooden pens before turning back to face Anna. Gone was the innocent, trusting smile he remembered from their college days. Instead, her skin glowed with the same kiss of sun that had lightened her tawny hair, and the expression in her burned-sugar eyes was knowing and determined.
She reached up and scratched her high cheekbone, then pushed the hair back at her temple, a habit she apparently hadn’t broken. Nervous? Maybe it was his imagination. But one thing wasn’t. The little girl who’d just called her “Mama” didn’t look a thing like her.
Jack’s head pounded and his throat felt dry. The sun. The heat. Man, he wished he was hallucinating, but no way were the indecipherable emotions ratcheting through him fake. And Anna stood before him as real as he’d ever hoped, and as disappointed as when he’d last seen her.
Disappointment. Apparently that was the one thing they had in common.
Jack shook his head and adjusted his grip on his bags. Anna scratched her elbow, then her neck, and shrugged, as if his standing there was a daily routine and she had no secrets. Nothing to hide. She’d forgotten what an open book her face was to him. She never could put on an act. Not with him.
She gestured toward his load. “I guess it makes sense to put your stuff away first. I could give you a tour after that. Not afraid of snakes, are you?” she asked.
Her attempt at a lighthearted tone was pathetic. He shook his head.
“I’m not the person who looks like they stepped on one,” he said, then walked off.
Anna Bekker had it coming.
