Stroke of Love by Melissa Foster Page B

you’re in for an eye-opening realization. The families here rise before dawn. The children gather wood for the fires and go down to the river to fetch water for cooking. Then the women prepare breakfast. The men leave for the fields before the sun rises. Sometimes the older boys go with their fathers, if their help is needed. The men return right before sunset for dinner with the family. Then they bathe in the river at night.”
    “But we have water just up the road.” Sage was beginning to feel like fate had brought him to Punta Palacia for a much bigger reason than meeting Kate. His mind was wrapping itself around an idea that at the moment seemed a little far-fetched, but as Luce continued, the pieces began to fall together.
    “You’re right. Wells are as close as the town and the cabins, but they’d need a separate well here because they’re too far to use the same one. That’s one of the issues Kate’s been working on, getting a well for the village. But funding for such a small community is hard to come by.” She nodded at two women in the cooking house, seemingly oblivious to the sweltering heat. “I could never do what they do.”
    The basic necessities that he took for granted began to take on a whole new perspective. Sage glanced at the women in the cooking house and listened to them talking. Their Creole accents were so thick that he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then he thought about Penelope and Cassidy bitching about their accommodations—which had running water and electricity—and it struck him how spoiled they were and how oblivious they were to the things in life that really mattered. People. Love. Spending time together .
    “We have so much, and at the same time, we have so little.” His mind traveled down a fast and furious path. With Sage’s connections, and the connections of his family, he was sure he’d be able to pull together enough resources for wells for the village. But he couldn’t fund every community, and surely there were thousands in need of the same resources. Sage realized that his idea of creating artwork that reflected the area to sell in the States toward donations for Punta Palacia was small potatoes. He needed to think globally. The idea seeded on their way back to the compound, and by the time the cabins came into sight, the idea had bloomed to a full-blown concept.
    Sage was relieved that the press had already left when they reached the compound and he headed into the mess hall for more water with Luce.
    “Hey, Sage,” Clayton called from the path.
    “Go on in. I’ll be right behind you,” Sage said to Luce. What the hell do you want?
    Clayton sidled up to him and put his arm around Sage. Sage cringed.
    “Dude, thanks for last night.”
    “Excuse me?” What the hell?
    “Dude, you primed Penelope. She was livid with you, so of course she went to Cassidy’s place to commiserate, and…well…let’s just say three’s definitely not a crowd.”
    Sage’s hands fisted. He shrugged out from under Clayton’s arm and stomped off toward the building. Clayton, apparently as thick-headed as he was horny, caught up to him again.
    “So, if you wanna do the same with that hot little volunteer, Kate, I’ll gladly take your throwbacks.”
    The heat of the afternoon and his annoyance at Clayton, Penelope, and the press exploded in a rush of adrenaline. In the next breath, Sage had Clayton by the collar. He lifted him off the ground and slammed his back against a tree, seething between clenched teeth. “If I ever hear you mention her name again in that way, I will tear you apart.”
    “Dude.” The veins in Clayton’s neck bulged. He held his arms up in surrender, holding Sage’s stare.
    Every muscle tense, every nerve tight and hot, Sage lowered his voice and pressed his face an inch away from Clayton’s. “Shut up. Not one word, you hear me? Stay the fuck away from me, and stay the fuck away from Kate, or I promise you this: I will ensure that not