Perhaps she knew what had happened at Tio Amato’s. She had stayed behind because of some sense of duty or obligation to the man.
That was ridiculous. Natal might not have wanted to see the whole truth regarding Tio Amato, but she knew. She knew that he was bad—that he hurt people. She’d opened her eyes and she wouldn’t stay with or feel sorry for such a man.
No. She wouldn’t stay out of a sense of pity or obligation. But she might not come now because she knew what had happened, and she no longer wanted to be with River. She had asked him not to take revenge. Maybe she thought that he had done so.
Maybe what was going on was even worse. Amato had more goons than the two River had tackled at the house. Maybe Amato hadn’t meant to let her go under any circumstances. He had beaten her to within an inch of her life before River had gotten there and Natal was under a bridge.
Dead, her body broken and bruised.
No. God, no—he’d never believe that.
No.
The train arrived; River knew that at such a small station it would pause for only a few seconds.
An announcement came over a screeching loudspeaker—first in Portuguese, then in Spanish, then in English and in German—that the northbound train was arriving, and leaving.
He looked anxiously up and down the platform. No, there were no police.
No men in blue.
And no Natal.
The train ground to a noisy stop.
He couldn’t stay there; he knew that. He had to get on the train.
His heart sank. The world was black. The world was …
Darkness—and blood.
A conductor came walking briskly by him. He called out—his words clearer than the announcement over the speakers.
But the announcement had changed. Now, the train was leaving.
Somehow, River managed to board the last car.
And then, miraculously, he heard her voice.
I’m dreaming, he told himself. He wanted her so badly that he was dreaming.
But, no.
He turned. Natal was racing toward the train, a brilliant smile on her face, a small bag in her hand. She’d gotten her work, her precious writing. She had gone to Amato’s house, gotten what she needed, and gotten out. And then she must have stopped to say goodbye to a friend or to run some other last-minute errand before coming to the station. She looked well, and beautiful and excited.
He reached out a hand to her; the train was starting to move.
She leapt aboard and into his arms. His eyes met hers and he knew that even if he had told her what had happened, what he had done, they were together.
The adventure between them was just beginning.
“I’m late,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry; it’s me. I tend to be late.”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter at all. You’re here.”
“Truly a free spirit now!”
As the train left the station, he kissed her and held her.
He’d never felt as if his own spirit was quite so free.
CHAPTER 17
The train was moving and they hadn’t found a seat. River noted Natal’s hand. The knuckles were scraped and raw—bloodied.
“Natal,” he said, looking at her anxiously.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something,” he persisted.
She shrugged. “I went in to get my belongings and of course, Tio Amato was there and he accosted me. He said I was a fool—well, he called me much worse, but he also said that I’d burned all my bridges and that he’d never support me again so that I could write. That was it, you know. When I made myself believe that he was a good man who built fountains for poor children and meant to help the world. I pretended, even to myself, that I did not see so much that made me uneasy. You see, I wanted to write. I believed that I needed to be able to write. And I’m good—they took my articles. But my articles were really all lies. I said I was free—but I wasn’t. I just dreamed of being free.”
“Your knuckles, Natal, what happened?”
She grinned. “He tried to stop me. I clocked him one.”
“And he?” River asked, feeling his muscles tighten. He wasn’t sure why his anger rose so swiftly. Tio Amato had to be at a police station by now. Unless, of course, the fire had spread so quickly that the massive amounts of what he had suspected was cocaine had burned to the ground with the house.
No, the man had to be in a prison or a hospital.
“He just looked at me. He was astounded that I had the nerve to strike him. I hurried then. I picked up my computer and other belongings and walked right out of the house,” she recounted gleefully. “Such a victory—but he seemed preoccupied and said only ‘good riddance.’”
She was so happy, so proud of herself.
“Where did you go when you left? You almost missed the train,” he reminded her.
“Oh, well, I said goodbye to my friend Jacinto at the coffee shop and I stopped by to do the same with Anna, at the newsstand. I never meant to take so long.” She frowned, looking at him. “How did you know that I left the house so quickly?”
He froze, looking down at her.
“You went to the house,” she accused him.
“I had to—I had to see that he didn’t hurt you,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed. “You went in? You accosted him? But … you’re here.”
“I didn’t exactly accost him,” River said.
“What did you do? You were not to avenge me,” she reminded him. “You promised.”
“Well, now, wait, I promised not to get myself killed by trying to get revenge for what he had done to you,” he told her. “And I did not go there to take vengeance on Tio Amato. I went to observe—just to make sure that he didn’t hit you again.”
“I told you I could take care of myself,” she said. “And I did. River, my darling River, you must look at the bigger picture of our lives. He might have hurt you—killed you. And then where would we be?”
He shook his head. “I had no intention of letting myself get killed—trust me. And we both have lessons to learn, Natal. No one can really just take care of himself. Look at Reed Amato—surrounded by thugs, goons, or henchmen, whatever one would call his men. The strongest man needs others at his back.”
“You had no one at your back!” she reminded him.
“That’s true, but, honestly, I was keeping my promise to you. I didn’t expect to see what I saw. They had a man in the house—they were beating him to death.”
“And you thought to stop them?” she asked incredulously.
“What else could I do and still live with myself?”
“So many reasons that I love you,” she murmured, but then she added with distress, “Oh, River, what did you do?”
“I killed no one, I swear it. I simply drew them all out to the front—Amato’s men first—and then, while Amato went out to see what was going on, I slipped around to the back and told the man they were beating up to get out. And then … well, I lit the house on fire,” he said.
She stared at him, slowly arching her exquisite brows.
In that moment, he prayed desperately that he hadn’t ruined everything with her.