And who are these gentlemen—your slaves?”
He frowned. “They’re not exactly gentlemen, and I don’t have slaves. These are warriors from the Maasai tribe. Kiriswa shared his calabash with you.”
The warrior said a few words to Adam, who translated for Emma. “They want to take us to their village for the night. It’s not far.”
As he spoke, the men doused the campfire with dirt. In the sudden blackness, Emma knew a wave of fear. But a warm arm circled her shoulders.
“I hope you’re good for a little more riding tonight.” Adam said. “I’ll protect you now.”
He mounted the black horse, then bent over to lift Emma up behind him. She said nothing as she slipped her arms around his chest and felt the horse begin its rhythmic stride.
As night closed around them, Adam found it hard to keep his attention on the ride. Emma had rested her cheek on his back and her soft hair brushed his neck. There was something about the way she molded against him, her arms wrapped tightly and her hands warm on his chest.
Any man would be interested in a woman like Emma. What he didn’t like to admit was the growing certainty that she was more than just another woman. He had begun to care what happened to her. Snapping off the thought as though it were poison, he returned his focus to the trail and the line of tall men walking in silence ahead of the horse.
“You’re wearing the same shirt and vest you had on earlier,” Emma said, her voice drowsy. “Did you look for me a full day without stopping?”
“I wanted to get you safely back to Tsavo. I knew you’d want to be there—the situation with your father. You feeling all right, Emma?”
“I feel…odd.” She was crying, he realized. Where her cheek rested on his back, his shirt was damp. “I can’t imagine my father dead. I hardly know what to think. Life has always been the same. I hoped and planned, but I doubted it could be different. I should mourn my father, yet I can only think of Cissy.”
She fell silent, and Adam covered her hands with his. “Try to believe your sister is alive,” he said.
“I do believe it and I must find her. I shall need help doing it.”
Before he could think of a response, he saw the warriors break into a lope. A fire glowed red in the distance. One man began a low chant, echoed by the others.
As they neared the light, Adam distinguished the outlines of low earthen mounds surrounded by a high fence of piled dead thorn brush. The group entered single file through a narrow opening to find the trampled area inside almost deserted.
The warriors melted into the darkness, leaving Emma and Adam alone with Kiriswa. Adam kicked a leg over his saddle horn and slid down. He lifted Emma to the ground, set her on her feet and braced her to be sure she could stand. Then he spotted a gnarled old man sauntering into the clearing.
“Entasupai,” the Maasai growled the familiar greeting and spat into his hand.
Adam grasped it without hesitation and gave the response. “Hepa.”
He took a moment to explain the situation, his effort atspeaking the Maa language stumbling over the description of the railway, the missing sister and the dead father. Then he introduced Emma.
“Sendeyo.” The man slapped his hand across his chest.
Adam smiled. “That’s his name—Sendeyo. He’s the chief elder of the tribe.”
Emma gave a polite nod. “So pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Sendeyo asked if you’d like to sleep in one of his wives’ huts,” Adam told her. “Frankly, I’d recommend—”
“No.” She caught his sleeve. “I can’t sleep now. There’s no time. I must speak to you at once.”
“You need to rest, Emma.” Frowning, he looked down at her. Starlight silvered her soft shoulders, and the breeze played with her hair.
“Adam, please.” She took his hand in hers. “I have a business proposal for you.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“I cannot delay. My sister’s life depends on it. I’ve been
He frowned. “They’re not exactly gentlemen, and I don’t have slaves. These are warriors from the Maasai tribe. Kiriswa shared his calabash with you.”
The warrior said a few words to Adam, who translated for Emma. “They want to take us to their village for the night. It’s not far.”
As he spoke, the men doused the campfire with dirt. In the sudden blackness, Emma knew a wave of fear. But a warm arm circled her shoulders.
“I hope you’re good for a little more riding tonight.” Adam said. “I’ll protect you now.”
He mounted the black horse, then bent over to lift Emma up behind him. She said nothing as she slipped her arms around his chest and felt the horse begin its rhythmic stride.
As night closed around them, Adam found it hard to keep his attention on the ride. Emma had rested her cheek on his back and her soft hair brushed his neck. There was something about the way she molded against him, her arms wrapped tightly and her hands warm on his chest.
Any man would be interested in a woman like Emma. What he didn’t like to admit was the growing certainty that she was more than just another woman. He had begun to care what happened to her. Snapping off the thought as though it were poison, he returned his focus to the trail and the line of tall men walking in silence ahead of the horse.
“You’re wearing the same shirt and vest you had on earlier,” Emma said, her voice drowsy. “Did you look for me a full day without stopping?”
“I wanted to get you safely back to Tsavo. I knew you’d want to be there—the situation with your father. You feeling all right, Emma?”
“I feel…odd.” She was crying, he realized. Where her cheek rested on his back, his shirt was damp. “I can’t imagine my father dead. I hardly know what to think. Life has always been the same. I hoped and planned, but I doubted it could be different. I should mourn my father, yet I can only think of Cissy.”
She fell silent, and Adam covered her hands with his. “Try to believe your sister is alive,” he said.
“I do believe it and I must find her. I shall need help doing it.”
Before he could think of a response, he saw the warriors break into a lope. A fire glowed red in the distance. One man began a low chant, echoed by the others.
As they neared the light, Adam distinguished the outlines of low earthen mounds surrounded by a high fence of piled dead thorn brush. The group entered single file through a narrow opening to find the trampled area inside almost deserted.
The warriors melted into the darkness, leaving Emma and Adam alone with Kiriswa. Adam kicked a leg over his saddle horn and slid down. He lifted Emma to the ground, set her on her feet and braced her to be sure she could stand. Then he spotted a gnarled old man sauntering into the clearing.
“Entasupai,” the Maasai growled the familiar greeting and spat into his hand.
Adam grasped it without hesitation and gave the response. “Hepa.”
He took a moment to explain the situation, his effort atspeaking the Maa language stumbling over the description of the railway, the missing sister and the dead father. Then he introduced Emma.
“Sendeyo.” The man slapped his hand across his chest.
Adam smiled. “That’s his name—Sendeyo. He’s the chief elder of the tribe.”
Emma gave a polite nod. “So pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Sendeyo asked if you’d like to sleep in one of his wives’ huts,” Adam told her. “Frankly, I’d recommend—”
“No.” She caught his sleeve. “I can’t sleep now. There’s no time. I must speak to you at once.”
“You need to rest, Emma.” Frowning, he looked down at her. Starlight silvered her soft shoulders, and the breeze played with her hair.
“Adam, please.” She took his hand in hers. “I have a business proposal for you.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“I cannot delay. My sister’s life depends on it. I’ve been
Similar Books
