“You’re incredibly lucky this wasn’t any worse,” she said.
“I’d say all three of us were pretty damn lucky.”
He made a sound that was more annoyance than pain when she laid the gauze over the wound and pressed the tape over it.
“Sorry,” she said. “I know it hurts. I’m just about finished.”
“Take your time,” he said between clenched teeth, then glanced at her handiwork. “You ever consider taking up medicine?”
Smoothing the last strip of tape, she sat back on her heels. “I’m much too good at journalism.”
Working his shoulder, Robert rose and walked to his backpack.
“I’m hoping you have a couple of filets mignons and a bottle of Merlot in there,” she said.
“Close.” He grinned. “Almonds and dried apricots.”
“That’ll do in a pinch.” She watched as he withdrew a tiny computer and headset.
“I need to check in with Dr. Orloff at the hospital,” he said.
“That’s pretty high-tech gear for a doctor on a humanitarian mission,” she said.
Instead of acknowledging the statement he carried the tiny computer several feet away, slipped on the headset and tapped several keys.
Because she needed an outlet for the nerves snapping through her, she rose and walked to where he’d set out a bag of almonds, a smaller bag of dried apricots and a bottle of water. As she opened the bags and twisted off the bottle cap he spoke in very low tones to whomever was on the other end of the line. Not for the first time she wondered about the air of secrecy that had surrounded him since he’d arrived in Rebelia. If he were here on a humanitarian mission, why all the secrecy? Where on earth had the high-tech communication gear come from? What about those eraser-size explosives he’d used to escape the soldiers? Or was there more going on with Dr. Robert Davidson than he was letting on?
Several minutes passed before he snapped the computer closed and returned to where she sat near the fire. He didn’t look at her as he stowed the computer in its case.
“Is everything all right with Dr. Orloff?” she asked, passing him the water and a handful of almonds and dried fruit on a napkin.
She knew something was wrong the instant he looked at her. As hard as he might try to hide his emotions, there were some things a man couldn’t hide. Some things a woman sensed instinctively. Lily wasn’t sure what was going on, but she knew it wasn’t good.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is there a problem at the hospital?”
Sitting on the tarp with his elbows on his knees, Robert looked down, then his eyes met hers. “Do you want the truth? Or do you want me to pretty it up for you?”
“You know me well enough to know I want the truth.” A terrible thought struck her. “It’s not about Jack, is it? Robert, please, if it’s—”
“DeBruzkya raised the bounty to five hundred thousand dollars,” he said.
The words struck her with the force of a speeding tank, shocking her with fear and a cold, hard reality she hadn’t ever wanted to face. “That’s outrageous! And how did he know—”
“The soldiers told him we were together,” he cut in. “They told him we have a child.” He shot her a canny look. “The bounty is for the three of us.”
“Oh, God.” Rising, Lily turned away from him and pressed her hand to her stomach. She felt physically ill. “He knows about Jack.”
“He doesn’t know where we are, but I’m sure he’s got a vague idea.”
“I’ve put you in danger.”
“No. DeBruzkya put us in danger,” he growled.
“My God, I’ve put Jack in danger.” The realization tore through her like sharp claws. She’d done this. It was her fault. She’d put not only a man she cared deeply for in danger, but her precious son, as well.
She jumped when strong hands closed over her shoulders. Lily hadn’t heard him rise, hadn’t noticed his approach. “Don’t do this to yourself, Lily.”
“This is all my fault,” she said.
“This is DeBruzkya’s fault.”
“I’ve been blind.” She looked at him. “I’ve been lying to myself. I’ve been in this country not to free her people, not to give the orphans food and medicine and hope, but because I’m afraid to leave.”
“Any sane person would be afraid of DeBruzkya.”
“That makes me a coward.”
“Stop it, damn it. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”
For the first time, the reality that she’d failed stared her in the face. She’d failed the Rebelian people. She’d failed herself. But worst of all, she’d failed Jack. Sweet, precious Jack. The taste of that failure was bitter.
Determined not to cry, she blinked back tears. “I wanted to make a difference.”
“You did.”
“I wanted to bring him down. That monster DeBruzkya. I wanted that so badly it blinded me to the harm I was doing to my own child.”
“Honey, you didn’t harm Jack. He’s fine. You’ve been a good mother. But you can’t do it all by yourself.”