filled with people coming the other direction. Daniel immediately stopped his truck and eased it back to a dip in the mountain wall. “First rule of passing: hug the mountain.”
“Let them take the outside? Got it.” They both watched as the truck eased around them with shouts and waves from the passengers, and then Daniel pulled out of the dip and hit the gas.
Stephanie picked up the bag of chips, forced herself to let go of the handle and calmly shoved a handful in her mouth. By the power of carbs, she’d make it through this. When they rolled to a stop in the small main square of the next town, she’d managed to work her way through the bag, her Inca Kola and the Coke. And she felt better.
“Proposition, to propose something, like a date. I am good with words, Dr. Lincoln. In fact, I’d say we’ve already had our dinner date. We just shared a bag of chips and a drink. That’s almost a meal—a really cheap date with spectacular scenery.” She waved a careless hand to demonstrate how un-terrified and well-adjusted she was at this point in the trip and her life.
The fact that she’d actively plotted a way to prove her lack of injury, years after the incident, might not support her claims.
“Stay here. Don’t move. I’ll take you to the hospital for the restroom as soon as I get the tire patched.” Before she could salute smartly, Daniel was out of the truck. She glanced back in time to watch him lift the tire out of the back. He was tall and strong and didn’t seem much like the hotshot doctor she remembered. Dirty jeans and tan skin were a good look for him. The dark frown on his face was a lot more familiar. After he walked down the middle of the street and turned the corner, she checked on her suitcase, gasped in dismay over the solid coating of dust, and settled back in her seat.
“Stay here. Don’t move,” she grumbled. His voice wasn’t easy to copy but the frown was. “Big brother or dictator? It’s a fine line.”
That was when she noticed a line of schoolgirls forming on the sidewalk behind the truck. Dressed in adorable navy and gray uniforms, they watched the truck closely and giggled.
Small town Texas or mountain village in Peru, giggling eight-year-olds must have been universal.
Digging around in her bag from the convenience store, she grabbed the candy she’d picked up and then took her camera out of her backpack. One more glance showed impatient mothers joining the kids. Even better. She could ask permission to give candy and take photos.
If she could remember that much Spanish.
Maybe they knew English.
Stay here. Don’t move. Those had been his orders and she couldn’t claim she’d forgotten his second rule with a straight face. So this was going to make him mad.
Would he be shocked to learn that his disapproval wouldn’t keep her from doing what she wanted? Maybe. She was sort of surprised herself. Living in Holly Heights meant spending a lot of time pleasing the people in her life.
They loved her and wanted the best for her, but the “best” was always safe, predictable and matched what they wanted, too.
The freedom felt so good.
The straggling line of kids dressed in school uniforms was right outside her window, practically begging to be her first adventure in bad Spanish.
She grabbed the candy and eased out of the truck, not quite convinced her plan was solid but more certain staring out the window because she was afraid to take a chance was a serious fail.
No one on the sidewalk moved.
“Would it be okay if I—” She held up the camera and mimed taking shots. The women in charge of the group turned and spoke in rapid-fire Spanish. Stephanie had no hope of keeping up and cursed this trip and its lack of planning. If only she’d had time to cram. Visiting Peru would have been a lot less intimidating if she could do more than ask where the bathroom and library were.
Finally the women agreed and gathered the children into a neat group. The backdrop of the dusty street and the church across the square filled the frame with a real slice of daily life. Stephanie snapped the photo and then turned the camera around to show the women. “Very pretty. Bonita.”
They nodded and answered her. Waving her hands, Stephanie said, “Lo siento. No hablo espanol. Malo.” She was sorry. The questions she wanted to ask burned on her tongue. This once-in-a-lifetime chance to make friends and her inability to do it would bother her for a long time. More than anything she wanted to ask about school, what they were studying and how they liked it. She could ask the mothers about their days and what it was like living with all this beautiful sunshine.
Meeting people and being unable to connect was torture. She didn’t want to let the opportunity slip away.
You won the lottery. There’s no reason this has to be your last chance, Stephanie.
Reassured that her dismal language ability wouldn’t hold her back forever, she grabbed a handful of candy and offered it to the women. In a heartbeat, the kids had cleared all the inventory and lined up for seconds. Their beautiful grins made it impossible to say no.
While she was rummaging in the truck, the commotion behind her turned from quiet giggles to happy squeals and cries of “Doctor! Doctor!”
She was busted.
Not that she’d had any intention of trying to pretend she’d followed his orders.
Still, it might have been nice to have the choice.
Determined to show him that she was different, even if she had to learn how to be different on this trip, Stephanie straightened her shoulders and tossed a bag of candy to him. “Found it.” Then she smiled brightly in response to his complete lack of expression and picked up her shield, the camera.
With the lens between them and a circle of kids surrounding him, his features softened. Instead of impatient, Daniel was happy. Kind. Following the excited conversation was beyond her, but it was clear that he knew these kids, remembered their names and could tease them into more laughter.
She’d seen him striding down the halls of Holly Heights Hospital. In a white coat and a dark tie, he’d been intimidating, even awe-inspiring. The kind of man it was impossible to argue with or doubt.
In his dirty jeans, ragged shirt and messy curls, Daniel looked more like an adventure guide than a man who’d performed complicated surgery in sterile operating rooms.
He also smiled like a man who enjoyed every single minute of his life.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d come to Peru to make a change.
She should take a page from his book.
With her luck it would be written in Spanish, but that didn’t make reading it impossible.
All she needed was a translator.
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