filled. “I’ve never heard that name before,” she whispered. “If that’s who I am, it’s news to me.”
LAUREN STANLEY DROPPED BACK into a fitful sleep and Armando began to organize the trip back to the clinic. It would have taken less than an hour in an ambulance, but patient transportation here had as much in common with its international counterparts as he did with Manco.
Lining the wooden floor of a cart with pillows and blankets, the men made a bed for Lauren, then attached the rig to the back of Armando’s battered motorcycle. When they finished, he stared at it and shook his head. She was going to feel every bump and rut in the path between Qunico and the clinic but he couldn’t give her anything to knock her out. Until he had a better handle on her injuries, he couldn’t risk the complications that might arise.
He went back inside and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands. Tiachita stood beside her. “Very dizzy,” the housekeeper said. “Very bad. No can walk.”
Tiachita seemed to support her boss’s bid to keep Lauren. Ignoring her try, Armando took a bottle of water from his backpack and handed it to Lauren. “You’re probably dehydrated,” he said. “It comes up on you fast out here.”
She accepted the water without comment, her dazed state and slowed movements disturbing to him. Had she hit her head while she’d been in the water? He hadn’t been able to see any signs of contusions but reactions to injuries like that could be delayed. A whole host of other possibilities raced through his mind, some of them with outcomes that could be very serious.
He capped the water bottle and dropped it into his pack. “You ready?”
Instead of answering, she tried to stand, but she swayed instead, her legs going out from beneath her. Grabbing her arms, Armando caught her just before she went down completely.
“Oh, God,” she murmured. “I think the woman is right. No can walk.”
Armando chuckled. “You don’t have to walk. I’m going to carry you. Just put your arms around my neck.”
She did as he instructed and he lifted her easily. Too easily. She’d probably carried ten pounds more before her accident. She’d lost none of her beauty, though. The luminous skin, the clear blue eyes, the heart-shaped face, they were all there now, the promise he’d seen in her features as a child now fulfilled.
When he laid her in the cart she groaned and curled on her side. Rearranging the pillows to better cushion her, Armando said a quick prayer then straddled the cycle and aimed it down the path.
THEIR RETURN WASN’T as bad as Armando had thought it would be. Maybe the Quechuan gods were impressed with Lauren Stanley’s altered state. Whatever it was, Armando didn’t care. He was grateful they got back to the clinic before nightfall. He’d been stranded before in the night in the surrounding jungle and it hadn’t been fun. The experience wouldn’t have been any better with an injured woman to care for.
The muffled hum of his motorcycle shattered the quiet as he pulled into the clinic’s compound. Zue hurried out to meet him, her tongue clicking before he could say anything. With a flick of her wrist, she had three men out to help. They gently lifted the blonde and carried her inside while Zue berated them the entire distance, cautioning them not to bump the patient while at the same time hurrying them toward the clinic’s four-bed hospital. Armando shook the dust from his clothing and went to clean himself up. Zue would bathe Lauren, then he’d examine her. They never had too many patients at one time but there was generally a steady stream. He and his nurse had their routine down.
He was stepping out of the shower when his cell phone rang. Seeing the caller ID number, he picked up the phone and, without thinking, fell into the coded speech he and Meredith used when discussing a job.
He greeted her, then said, “I have the package you were looking for—it was found late yesterday afternoon. Apparently it’d been around for a while but I hadn’t heard.”
She followed his lead, her voice relieved. “Armando, that’s great! It wasn’t…damaged, was it?”
“There’s some dents and scratches on the outside but I believe everything is okay on the inside. I haven’t had a chance to open it yet and see.”
“Where was it all this time?”
“It’s a long story,” he said. “I’ll call you later when the rates go down and explain.” This meant he’d e-mail her, but as he expected, Meredith didn’t have the patience for that.
“Tell me now,” she insisted. “The manufacturer wants to know.”
“It got wet,” he said with a sigh, “and had to be fished out of a nearby river. I’m not sure how it ended up there, but that’s basically what happened.”
“But it’s okay?” she asked again.
He hesitated and tried to think of a way to avoid the topic of Lauren’s amnesia. He needed to examine her before he could address that subject adequately, but his reluctance went beyond that. Something about the situation had begun to bother him during the trip home, but he couldn’t yet define what it was.
“Basically, it is okay. Yes.” He paused and Meredith sensed that he was holding something back.
“But?”
He licked his lips and stared out the window beside the desk where he stood. Night came swiftly in Peru and it was totally black outside now. He’d never seen a place with such an absence of light and he’d been in plenty of dark places in his life.
“I think it might be best if you could wait a bit before calling the manufacturer.”
“Why is that?” Her voice took on a puzzled but cautious note. “He’s quite anxious to hear any news we can give him.”
“I can see why,” Armando replied, “but something doesn’t feel right. You know what I mean?”
“I probably do,” she said with a weary sigh. “I’ll hold off if you think that’s best.”
“I do,” he said. “But I can’t give you a reason why right now. Maybe later I’ll understand better.” His eyes searched the void through the screen. “And then again,” he added, “maybe I won’t.”
SHE REMEMBERED LITTLE about the journey yet, when she woke up the following morning, she felt as if she’d moved across the world instead of across the valley.
She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. The clinic was spotless, the walls a white so stark they hurt her eyes, the floors so clean, she was sure they would squeak if walked on. There were three other beds in the room along with her own but they were empty.
The simple task of looking around took most of her energy and she fell back against the pillows. Her eyes didn’t open again until that evening when a tiny native woman came in with a dinner tray, the china and cutlery arranged with military precision. She insisted on feeding Lauren, then returned the next morning to do the same with breakfast. The doctor came twice, but each time she registered little more than the fact that he was examining her, his hands gliding over her bruised body with care, his voice comforting as he murmured to her.
On her third morning, she woke up with a much clearer mind. Recalling the name the doctor
