Sooner or Later (20 page)

Hopelessly lost, Letty wandered
aimlessly through the streets of San Paulo. She’d gotten separated from Murphy when she’d thought she’d recognized a young woman from Luke’s mission. Letty couldn’t remember her name. Rosa. No, Rosita. Something along those lines.

Letty had met Rosita the previous summer. She remembered her specifically because the lovely young woman was so clearly infatuated with Luke. Her twin, being obtuse and completely blind to matters of the heart, seemed blithely unaware of this woman’s devotion.

Letty had caught a fleeting glimpse of her. There was every likelihood Rosita could tell Letty what had happened to Luke. In her excitement Letty had broken away from Murphy, then twisted and curled her way though the throng, calling to Rosita.

There’d been so many people. Soon Letty had become caught up in the crowd, trapped in a sea of moving humanity. The last look she’d had of Rosita, Letty had found herself steered in the opposite direction.

In that brief glance, Rosita had looked pale and drawn. The deep shadows beneath her eyes spoke of pain and fear. It looked as though the beautiful young woman hadn’t slept in a week.

Once Letty realized she’d lost sight of Luke’s friend, she’d wanted to weep with frustration. Then she’d remembered Murphy.

“Oh, shit.” She’d actually said the words aloud.

By this time he was nowhere in sight. The very least he could have done was keep up with her, she thought, exhausted and alone. She wrapped the shawl he’d purchased for her more tightly around her shoulders. Not because she was chilled, but for the security it afforded her. Which was pitifully little, she realized.

Again and again, as the evening progressed to night and the night to morning, Letty had tried to think of where he would be. Where he would think to look for her or meet her.

Every logical place had turned up empty. She’d gone back to the apparel store and waited outside the locked doors, certain Murphy would think to check for her there.

She’d even traipsed all the way back to the river where they’d docked the boat. That had been a big mistake. Not only was there no sign of Murphy or the fishing vessel Aldo had lent them, but she’d run head-long into a group of drunken soldiers.

Luckily she’d escaped their interest and slipped away. Even more fortunate was that not one of them was in any condition to chase after her.

The city square had also turned into a dead end. She’d lingered around there for hours, hoping she was inconspicuous, knowing she wasn’t.

As the sun crept over the horizon, Letty realized she had nowhere else to go. Nowhere else to look. They’d lost one another irrevocably, and it was her fault. The only thing for her to do now was look for someone else to help her locate Luke.

That little shit, Murphy mused as he stalked through the dark alleyways. One minute Letty had been within his grasp and the next thing he knew she was gone.

The frustration was worse than heartburn. He’d been up and down the streets of San Paulo without so much as a trace of her.

Of all the stupid, idiotic things for her to do, this topped everything. As best he could figure, she’d chased after someone she’d
thought
she recognized. Someone she recognized from where?

He should have known better than to get involved in this fiasco. Women like Letty Madden lay awake nights thinking up ways to ruin men’s lives.

When Letty had first approached him, he’d recently returned from a mission and was in no mood to take on another. In the few days he’d been home, he’d actually started to enjoy the role of the gentleman rancher. Not that he was tempted to make anything permanent of it.

The sedate life wasn’t for him. Then again, he’d thought the same of Cain and Mallory when they’d retired from soldiering. His two friends were as high on adventure as he was himself, and he’d been sure they wouldn’t last long in civilian life. But he’d been wrong.

Mallory perhaps he could understand. The hulk of a man had stepped on a land mine and nearly lost his leg and his life. When he’d returned to Deliverance Company, whatever element had made him a good soldier was gone. Sometime between the accident and his recovery he’d lost his thrill for adventure. Murphy suspected the injury coupled with meeting Francine were what had led to Mallory’s retirement.

Cain was an entirely different story. Cain had been their leader, the most fearless, intrepid man Murphy had ever met. It was difficult to believe that a woman was solely responsible for Cain’s unexpected retirement, but it was the truth.

A lovely San Francisco widow had turned his friend’s life upside down. Before Murphy could account for what happened, Cain had set up house in Montana and was raising cattle with the best of them. More shocking to Murphy was the fact that Cain was happy.

Unlike Mallory, who’d taken to raising llamas and children on a Washington State island, and Cain the rancher, Murphy didn’t know anything but soldiering.

Why such thoughts would come to him while he traipsed through the rebel-controlled streets of San Paulo on a wild-goose chase seeking Letty, Murphy didn’t know. Frankly, he didn’t want to know.

At this point, he promised himself, if he ever found the pest, she’d be fortunate to escape with just a good tongue-lashing.

He’d looked everywhere. The streets. The city square. The river. He’d even walked into a women’s rest room, thinking she might be there.

His patience, limited in the best of times, was gone. It’d evaporated in the time he’d spent searching for her. The only thing left now was to locate Luke Madden. Her brother was the best chance Murphy had of finding Letty.

If the little shit was still alive.

Letty surrendered all hope of ever finding Murphy. She simply couldn’t waste any more time looking. In her search, she’d kept an eye out for Rosita or anyone else she might recognize from the mission in Managna.

At nine the evening of the second day, she found herself standing in front of a Catholic church. Earlier, in Siguierres, she’d walked willy-nilly into just such a church, thinking she’d be safe. Instead she’d stumbled into a rebel command post. To say she’d learned her lesson was an understatement.

The large wooden door creaked as she gently pushed it open to peek inside. Her relief was palatable when she realized this was no military headquarters.

She stepped inside quietly. The church’s interior was lit with several candles. Rows of thin pews with bare wood kneelers formed uneven lines down both sides of the sanctuary.

The altar was an ornate wooden structure, painted
white and trimmed in gold, that stretched two floors to brush against the ceiling. As she stared at the front, at the floor level, she realized that a body lay adorned in a white robe.

Letty remembered Luke telling her that many people believed that the cathedral in San Paulo possessed the actual remains of St. Paul. Not the original St. Paul, the one popularly known as the thirteenth apostle, but another one who had followed several centuries later. The practice of displaying the decayed bodies of dearly beloved saints was common in Central America.

Holding her breath, Letty carefully moved forward and slipped into the last pew. Seeing that the kneeler was down, she knelt and bowed her head for prayer.

If ever she needed divine intervention, it was now. Everything was a mess. Even if Murphy did happen to find her, he’d be so furious that he’d never feel he could trust her again. Then there was Luke and the time she’d wasted looking for Murphy.

Letty didn’t know how long she prayed. She was exhausted, hungry, afraid. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

She heard a movement, a creak of a shoe, a
whoosh
of air, a fragmented sigh. Even if it had been a soldier, she wouldn’t have cared. Emotionally she was ready to collapse. Physically she’d gone past the point of no return.

Letty opened her eyes and raised her head. Her dark eyes met those of a white-haired priest she guessed to be about sixty. He blinked. So did she.

“My dear,” he whispered in stilted English, “these are dangerous times for a woman alone.”

“Yes, I know,” she whispered in Spanish, knowing the language was safer for them both.

“I’m Father Alfaro. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Letty hesitated. “I don’t think so.” She stood, certain he would ask her to leave, but her legs were shaky and she fell back into the pew.

“You’re ill?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, dismissing his concern. “Really.”

“Where are you staying?” He entered the pew and sat next to her, took hold of her fingers, and gently patted the back of her hand.

Her hesitation was answer enough, she suspected. Squaring her shoulders, she looked him directly in the eye. She had to trust him; there was no one else. “Have you heard of the mission in Managna?”

“Yes, of course.”

Hope sent a shot of adrenaline into Letty’s blood-stream. “Then you must know my brother, Luke Madden. He’s the missionary in charge of the Managna mission.” She leaned forward and gripped the priest’s frail arm. “Do you know what happened to him? Have you heard anything about him? I feel certain he must have been arrested, but—”

“My dear, you mean to say that you’ve come all this way hoping to find your brother?”

She nodded. “Can you tell me anything about what’s happened in Managna?”

The priest’s eyes saddened. “Unfortunately, no. I’ve heard of your brother, yes, and the work he’s done among the people. He’s spoken of with great love.”

“He’s been arrested?”

The priest studied her for a long moment before answering. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Then he’s alive.” Her spirits soared. Luke was alive. Alive. The music of relief made for a lovely song.

“My dear, I’m sorry, I can’t say. I simply don’t know.”

Her shoulders slouched with the weight of her dashed hopes.

“It was for your brother that you were praying just now?” he asked gently.

Luke, yes, but her heart had been filled with Murphy as well. He’d come to Zarcero because she’d needed him. Despite knowing she’d tricked him, he’d continued with the mission. She wouldn’t have blamed him had he dumped her then and there. Although he struggled to depict himself as a scoundrel, Murphy was an honorable man. In this instance he’d behaved more ethically than she. She’d tricked him. Duped him. All for her own purposes.

“My dear,” Father Alfaro whispered, “are you alone?”

“Alone?” She glanced over her shoulder, uncertain what he was asking. That no one else was with her was obvious.

“Is there another traveling with you, perhaps a man?” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper.

“We were separated,” she answered, making sure her own voice contained only a hint of sound. “How did you know?”

The faintest hint of a smile touched the corners of the elderly priest’s eyes. “It is better that I don’t answer.”

“A friend helped me cross from Hojancha into Zarcero.”

“And your friend? You say you were separated? How long ago?”

“Two days. I thought I saw someone who knew Luke, and when I turned around…my friend wasn’t there. I’ve spent every minute since searching for him.”

The priest frowned.

“Have you heard anything about…my friend?” Letty felt as though a vital part of herself were missing. Without Murphy she was lost and confused. Uncertain where to go or what to do next. All the while, Luke’s life hung in the balance.

“No, nothing,” Father Alfaro whispered.

“And nothing about Luke?”

“I cannot help you with your brother.”

“Please,” Letty pleaded, squeezing his hand. “I must find my brother.”

“I’m sorry, my child.”

“But surely there’s someone who can help me.” She had nowhere else to turn. Nowhere else to go. If Father Alfaro refused her, she might as well surrender herself to the authorities. If ever she’d been aware of her own powerlessness, it had been in the last two days without Murphy. He’d become more than her guide and protector. Much more. He’d lent her the confidence she’d needed. The courage to face the future.

Father Alfaro stared at her with unflinching regard, as if seeing her for the first time. It was the look of a man who was being asked to risk his life for a stranger
on the strength of his intuition. The strength of his ability to gauge her character.

“I know a man who can get us information about your brother.” Again the words were whispered so low that there was almost no sound. His breath brushed past her ear.

“Please, oh, please,” she said eagerly, doing her best to constrain herself. “I’ll do anything. Pay anything. Can you take me to meet him? But we must hurry. I fear Luke’s in grave danger.”

“No. You must not see this man, or talk to him.”

“But—”

“You heard of the four boys who were executed?”

She nodded. The streets had been filled with news of the horror.

“They were all from Managna.”

“No,” Letty gasped.

Father Alfaro nodded sadly. “So it is said.”

“Could it be that my brother was shot with them?” Letty asked, barely able to think past the anxiety she felt for her twin.

“I can’t answer your questions,” the priest answered gently. “But I will do what I can to help you find the information you need. In my heart, I feel God will answer your prayers and you’ll find both these men you love so much.”

Letty sucked in her breath. Both men she loved so much….

The old priest was right, she realized with a shock. She had fallen in love with Murphy. It wasn’t anything she’d expected to happen. Certainly nothing she’d planned. She wasn’t even sure she was pleased about
it. In the two days they’d been apart, she’d felt as if a giant hole had opened up in the area of her heart.

“Oh no,” she said aloud.

“No?” The priest regarded her quizzically.

“Not Murphy,” she whined, barely realizing what she was saying. Life would be so much more predictable with Slim. Safe, kind-hearted Slim. Even if she did love Murphy, that didn’t mean he wanted anything to do with her.

The door behind them creaked. Letty tensed, as did Father Alfaro.