“Looking for money. They ask us to pay a crossing fee, like five hundred dollars. Our coyote didn’t have enough.”
“So they took you.”
“Yes.”
She looked away, watching the blur of trees pass in front of a low-hanging moon. “There was another girl in our group. A little girl, ten or eleven. She was with her family. They said one of us had to go with them. Her or me.”
He swore under his breath.
The next part was hard to talk about. Hard to think about. “I went, of course. I told myself, It will be over soon. They will rape me and be done, and I can keep walking. I can make it to the U.S. But that wasn’t what happened. The group left me behind.”
“Cowards.”
She shivered at the bad memory. That moment stood out in her mind as especially awful. She’d been frozen with terror. “They were ordered to go at gunpoint. I knew then that I wouldn’t catch up to them. It was too dark. I’d never find the path alone.”
He waited for her to continue, listening intently.
“I started screaming. I wanted to stay calm and cooperate, but I was too scared. I screamed for help. One of the men hit me and I fell down.” She touched her cheek, frowning. “I kept screaming until someone came back for me.”
“Who?”
“The uncle of the little girl. Ricardo was his name. He was young, and he liked me, I think. He rushed in with a tree branch.” She held her hands like a bat, ready to swing. Then she dropped them, grasping the metal grate underneath her. “They shot him.”
“Jesus Christ.”
She felt sick about that detail. She felt sick about all of it, from start to finish. “They hit me again. After that, I remember very little. It’s like a movie with missing scenes. I see one man above me, then another. Then I passed out completely.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Many hours. I woke up alone, naked, and dirty. Ants all over me. I put on my clothes and started walking. I didn’t know where to go. I was too close to the border to turn back, but very weak and thirsty. I found a trail, so I followed it.”
“Where did it lead?”
“To Ricardo. He was dead.” Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them away. “I was sad about this for a long time, but later I realized, it was not a wasted life. He did a brave thing. He tried to help. He also had water in his backpack. So he saved me, after all. I drank it, and then I felt strong enough to go on. I walked until I fainted again.”
“Do you know why I stopped at those sand dunes?”
“Because you saw me?”
“No. You were hard to see, lying down like that. I wouldn’t have spotted you on a routine patrol. I only went that direction because vultures were circling.”
“Vultures?”
“Birds,” he said. “Scavengers. They were in the sky about a mile south of where I found you. They must have been above the dead body.”
She nodded her understanding. “So Ricardo brought you to me, por la gracia de Dios.”
“I don’t think God had anything to do with it.”
“I do.”
“Did God bring that train robber to you too?”
“The devil brought him.”
He made a sound of disbelief. “You think God has protected you, but it’s just men. Hot-blooded men with ulterior motives. Someday you’ll realize that we’re all the same.”
His harsh words stung. She knew there were good people in the world. He was one of them, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “I’ve learned that some men are trustworthy. I’m sad that you learned the opposite. You don’t even trust yourself.”
He looked away, scowling.
“Have you never trusted a man?” she asked.
“If you were smart, you wouldn’t trust them either.”
“What about your friend, Adam?”
“He’s no saint, believe me. He’s terrible with women.”
Maria pondered that claim. Adam was currently dating Kari, the woman who’d brought Maria to the United States. “He’s good to Kari. I think he is in love with her.”
Ian shrugged. “He’ll probably fuck it up.”
“I know you believe in love, if nothing else.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted. “I remember what you said about your mother, and Adam’s mother. Maybe the men in your life taught you not to trust, but these women taught you how to love. They loved you, and gave you the ability to love in return.”
He shook his head in denial. “You know what I learned? That love’s not enough. It doesn’t put food on the table or money in the bank. Love didn’t stop my mother from being a junkie. It didn’t protect me from her abusive boyfriends.”
“Did they hurt you?”
His eyes hardened at the question. “Whatever you’re imagining between us has to stop. I can’t feel anything for you. I don’t feel anything.”
She fell silent, hurt by his rejection. He wouldn’t have asked her to marry him if he didn’t care for her, but she couldn’t make him admit his feelings. And maybe he was right. Maybe love wasn’t enough. He had his career to protect. She had her family to take care of. Love didn’t change the fact that they were from two different worlds.
They’d both been through a lot today. He’d fought a man to the death an hour ago. She’d shared the details of a deeply traumatic experience. Although she felt better for having told him, she knew her story was hard to listen to.
Men were foolish, vengeful creatures. He was disturbed by her past, rattled by the close call.
So was she. She couldn’t help loving him, even if he didn’t love her. The feeling bloomed within her, warming her from the inside out. She wanted to hold on to the glow for as long as possible. Once he went away, it would fade.
The night was long, far longer than the previous one, with danger around every corner. There were dark tunnels and low-lying tree branches at regular intervals. They had to stay alert the entire time. By dawn, she felt like a zombie. Her eyes were grainy and her bottom was numb. Every muscle in her body ached from sitting in the same position.