Men of Intrgue A Trilogy (25 page)

Afterwards Matteo held her as she dozed, unable to sleep himself. Finally he got up and pulled on his pants, covering Helen with his shirt and then leaving the tent.

The night was gorgeous, cooler than it had been for a long time, with a hint of the
zinflora,
the fresh wind that swept through the Puerta Lindan mountains in the spring. He could hear guitar and harmonica music coming from many of the tents as he walked through the camp. His people were having a good time, enjoying a few hours’ respite, aware that they would be moving again at dawn to avoid the patrols.

The sky was spangled with stars, and he looked up at them, wishing for a cigarette. He had quit smoking over a year ago, but now he remembered how good it had been to sit under the moon and let the smoke fill his lungs, helping him to plan and to think.

One of his friends passed and he called out,
“¿Ricardo, tienes un cigarrillo?”

Ricardo tossed him half a pack and told him to keep the rest. Matteo walked to the charred stump of a tree destroyed by the previous night’s attack and sat on it. He lit a cigarette and inhaled, grimacing at the harshness of the blend. Nothing could beat American cigarettes. This was like smoking cactus leaves, but he continued, watching the tip glow as he dragged and then exhaled.

He had to get Helen out of Puerta Linda. He’d broken every promise he’d made to himself. He’d made love to her when he vowed he wouldn’t, and tonight he’d forgotten to protect her again, so eager to have her that all precautions fled his mind. But he could still save her life and that he intended to do.

It was not going to be easy to arrange her departure, or to live with her absence once she was gone. He didn’t know how he was going to get along without her now. The worst had happened; she had become necessary to him. He thought about her constantly, dreamed of her when he slept, and every time he saw her he wanted to get so deep inside of her that neither could tell where one left off and the other began.

In short, he was in love.

He was too old for this, Matteo reflected, blowing a stream of smoke into the night air. This should have happened to him when he was seventeen, when boys are often hit by the “thunderbolt,” as the Sicilians put it, the wild desire for a woman that would not quit until it was satisfied. But this was worse than such an infatuation, which dissipated with familiarity. No amount of contact satiated him; he needed Helen all the time.

He bent forward and looked at the ground, tapping ashes onto the grass. It was no good telling himself that he had lost perspective; he knew it and didn’t care. Always before, even as a young man, he’d been able to put his goals before everything else and keep women in what he’d thought of as their proper place: at the end of the list. Maybe this relationship was different because at the beginning of it their positions had been reversed. He’d never been dependent on anyone in his adult life, and Helen had taken care of him. But he couldn’t dismiss what he felt that easily; it was much more than gratitude, far more intense than the closeness one feels for a friend who has been good to him. She was a part of him, and all the old songs, which he’d once thought of as corny and exaggerated, made sense to him now.

Matteo looked up and nodded as a couple passed, intent on each other. He was thinking selfishly, he knew, worrying about how much he would miss her after she left, instead of concentrating on the need for her safety. But he had no idea how he would get along without her sweetness to neutralize the difficulty of his days, her passion to fill the emptiness of his nights. He didn’t know why her generous nature hadn’t been blunted by the selfishness of her family, the isolation of her upbringing, but it had endured to transform his life. While nine roses die in the cold, an old native saying went, one will survive; and Helen was the survivor, the flower in the crannied wall surmounting all odds to seek the sun.

He finished the cigarette and stood, lighting another one. He reached his decision and went to Alma’s tent, ducking inside the flap as he spotted her inside, alone.

Alma saw him in the doorway and her stomach lurched. He still affected her that way, like a punch in the diaphragm, and she composed her features deliberately as he came to stand beside her.

He was wearing only his fatigue pants, and she noted, as always, the spare beauty of his torso, the patrician cast of his face. She looked away, afraid that her expression would betray her.

When she glanced back, he was still waiting, his cigarette smoldering untouched between his fingers. His hair was mussed, and he looked tired, but relaxed. Well used and well loved.

“So, your American lady is treating you well, is she?” Alma asked, to fill the silence. If he had not been so preoccupied, so intent on his reason for coming to her, he might have noticed that her smile was not quite steady.

When he made no reply she went on. “Maybe she wasn’t your mistress when she arrived, but she is now.
¿No es verdad, Matteo?”

He sighed and said, “I didn’t come here to fence with you. I want you to contact your brother to get Helen across the border into Playa del Sol.”

“Oh, is that the reason for the cigarettes? This was a difficult decision, to let the gringa go.”

“Can you help me or not?”

“I can help you. If you can get her to Tres Luces by dawn on Wednesday, I’ll tell him to meet you there and pick her up. If I leave first thing in the morning, I can get to San Jacinta in time to give him the message.”

“You’re sure you know where he is?”

She nodded. “He’s hiding out in the Cabeza hills with some distant relatives, untraceable by the police. He has the chopper there and they have a phone. My mother is afraid her house is being watched since he deserted, but I can go to another friend in town, a doctor who will let me call from his office.”

Tres Luces was a tabletop mesa about five miles distant, with a flat, open area suitable for a landing. “Are you certain you can set this up?” he asked Alma. “I don’t want to bring her all the way there for nothing. We’d have to go on foot through the jungle and the
cabos
could be anywhere.”

“I’m certain. I discussed the possibility of it with my brother before I left.”

“And can he be trusted?”

“As I can be trusted,” she replied, lifting her chin.

“All right,” Matteo said. “You leave at dawn.” He paused and looked at her closely, his gaze intent, measuring.

“Don’t fail me in this, Alma. I’m counting on you.”

She inclined her head.
“Si, mi jefe,”
she answered, her tone tinged with irony. “For old times’ sake.”

He turned to go, tossing his cigarette on the earthen floor.

“And Matteo,” she called after him.

He glanced at her over his shoulder.

“If you get lonely when she’s gone, you know where to find me.”

He crushed the cigarette out with his foot and left the tent without replying.

Once outside he took a deep breath and felt better. The plan was in motion now, and he wouldn’t stop it. All he had to do was tell Helen.

She was sleeping on her side when he entered, and he sat next to her, taking her hand. Her eyes opened and she smiled at him.

“Helen, wake up. I have something to say to you.” She blinked and struggled upward onto her elbows, staring at him.

“What is it?” she asked. She could tell from his voice that it wasn’t the weather report.

“It’s time for you to go home,” he said.

Chapter 9

Home?” Helen repeated, searching his face.

“To America,” Matteo clarified.

“You’re sending me away?” she said softly. She couldn’t believe it.

He released her hand and stood up, pacing away from her.

“Don’t say it as though I’m driving you into exile. I just want to get you back where you belong.”

“I belong with you.”

“Didn’t the last couple of days prove how dangerous it is for you to be here?” he demanded, frustrated by her look of bewildered incomprehension. Why wouldn’t she understand that he was only trying to protect her?

Helen swung her legs over the edge of the cot, struggling to wake up and deal with this new development at the same time. She slipped into Matteo’s shirt and buttoned it, saying, “I thought that after we, well, with everything that’s happened, you would want to have me with you.”

She sounded so forlorn that he almost relented, but he steeled himself to go through with it. “This is not about what I want,” he said gently. “Surely you didn’t think that after we became lovers I’d no longer be concerned with your safety.”

“But you said yourself that I’m fitting in here and everyone is accepting me,” she protested.

“You are confusing the issue!” he replied heatedly. “I’m not talking about that and you know it. The only reason I brought you here in the first place was because you were seen with me at the airport. I had no choice. I couldn’t get you back to the States on a plane; you would have been picked up before you got out of the San Jacinta terminal.”

“And that’s still true, isn’t it? Not that much time has gone by, and they’re probably still looking for me.”

“There’s another way,” he said quietly.

“For me to get out?”

“Yes. With Alma’s help.”

“Alma,” Helen whispered, nodding her head. So that’s why the woman was looking at her with such an expression of triumph. She must have known this was coming. “What does she have to do with this?”

“Her brother has a helicopter. He’ll take you to Playa del Sol and you can fly home from there.”

“He’s coming here?”

“No, he can’t land a chopper here, and besides, the
cabos
are all over the mountain. We have to meet him at Tres Luces, about a day’s trek from this camp.”

“Oh, so it’s all arranged. You’re bringing me to Tres... whatever?”

“Yes.”

“And Alma’s brother has agreed to this plan?”

Matteo nodded. “She was away recently to get supplies and apparently she saw him then and discussed it.”

“Anxious to send me packing, isn’t she?” Helen said bitterly.

Matteo didn’t answer.

“Matt, don’t you see what this is? She’s conveniently devised a plan for my departure because she thinks that once I’m gone you’ll take up with her again.”

“If she thinks that, she’s mistaken.”

“Is she?” Helen asked, unable to stem the tide of jealousy that washed over her as she thought of Matteo with Alma.

“Don’t insult me, Helen,” he said flatly, looking away from her.

“Easy for you to say,” she flung at him. “I know what will happen when you’re alone, and she comes sashaying around, batting those big brown eyes at you. I’ll bet she’s better in bed than I am, too, isn’t she? I guess you didn’t have to teach her anything. She knew it all already, right, Matt? How to please you, how to make you groan like you would die if you couldn’t have her.”

Matteo covered the distance between them in a second, grabbing Helen and forcing her to look at him. “Be quiet!” he said in a frightening, lifeless tone. Helen fell silent, closing her eyes, unwilling to meet his pitiless gaze. Tears seeped from under her lashes, and he relented, pulling her into his arms.

“Do you think I could touch her after being with you?” he whispered, holding her so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe. “I can’t bear the thought of your going, it tears up my guts to have to send you away like this.”

“Then let me stay,” she pleaded, hammering on his weakening resolve.

“No,” he said hoarsely, and released her.

“What about your people, everyone here in the camp? They stay and take the risk.”

“This is their country; this is the life they chose.”

“What if I choose it now?” she countered, putting her hands on his shoulders and peering into his face.

“Helen, this is not a high school debate!” he replied, shrugging her off. “The decision has been made.”

“Oh, the
jefe
has spoken!” she said sarcastically, saluting. “I forgot that your orders must always be obeyed.
Perdoname, lo siento mucho.”

“Your Spanish is improving,” he observed, his lips twitching.

Helen thought of something else. “Matteo, what if it’s a trap?”

“What is?”

“This thing with Alma’s brother. What if it’s a setup?”

He shook his head firmly. “Alma wouldn’t do that.”

“But she was with Olmos, lining up against you.”

“She was just playing the angles, keeping in with him in case he came out on top. But she would never do what you’re suggesting, Helen. She knows how important you are to me.”

“That’s just why she might do it. She resents me—you know that—and Theresa says she’s dangerous.”

“She has been, to some. But not to me.”

“Because she’s still in love with you?”

“Because, despite what you’re saying, she’s loyal. She’s on the level with this, believe me.”

Helen considered a moment and then said, “I have no passport, no papers. I left everything in the car we abandoned.”