Through The Storm. Rula Sinara
course. I always do,” she said, appearing even more perplexed.
Right.
Mac didn’t have the heart to tell her about last night, considering he had things under control. He had much bigger issues to deal with right now. He let the office door swing shut behind him.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, ruffling Nick’s hair in the hopes of reading his face. Nick ducked away from his touch.
Don’t touch the hair. Got it.
“I’m fine. Not here by choice, but whatever,” Nick said, hanging his head as he spoke and stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Tessa watched intently with her lips pressed together. She closed her eyes briefly, in an apparent apology for Nick’s rudeness, then wrinkled her face at Mac in a “would you like to deal with this every day?” expression.
“Whatever works for me,” Mac said. “Seeing as you two beat me out here, how about you help me run a check on my chopper and then we can head up? I’ll give you a taste of piloting if you want.”
Guy stuff. Right? Didn’t every kid like planes, trains and the whole array? Tessa gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Mac caught on right away. He pinched the bridge of his nose. This was why he wasn’t good parent material. Guy stuff...except, maybe, when the kid’s parents had been killed in a plane crash. Hadn’t the flight over bothered him? Or maybe it had and that’s why Tessa was cautioning Mac. Then why’d she mention a tour last night? Unless Nick hadn’t said anything about not wanting to do an air tour until this morning.
Mac rubbed the cramp in his jaw. It didn’t matter. Accidents happened. The kid couldn’t stay grounded for life. Flying was in his blood. But Nick needed to feel in control again and Mac, more than anyone, understood that.
“What about a quick tour of the lodge and the gardens? Maybe a short hike,” Tessa suggested.
“Sure. We don’t have to go up if flying bothers you, Nick,” Mac said. “I assure you, my girl is safer than driving a car, but I can understand fear and...”
“I’m not afraid,” Nick said, raising his voice. “You think I’m some stupid wimp or something? I hate it when everyone treats me like a baby. I didn’t say I was afraid, Aunt Tessa. I said I just didn’t feel like it. I made it here on a plane, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” Mac said. Touchy one. “I’m just giving you options. I can get a jeep, take you on foot or take you up...anything you want, depending on what you’d like to see.”
“Then just do whatever Aunt Tessa wants and get us back home,” he said, storming away. Mac and Tessa watched as he cleared the building and made his way onto a lush terrace of grass and trees, then stopped cold when two vervet monkeys approached him, begging for food. He took several steps back. And then a few more, flattening his palms against the wall he’d backed into. Yeah, the kid was clearly not a wimp.
* * *
GET US BACK HOME. Tessa’s stomach twisted at Nick’s words. The poor kid was about to hurdle another life change—because of her. If she’d simply turned a blind eye and kept her suspicions to herself, they’d both be back at home in South Africa, safe and sound. Well, maybe safe. That was questionable. Now she had no idea when or if she’d ever have a home again. And Nick...his home was going to be here and he didn’t even know it.
“Do we rescue him?” Mac asked. The corner of his mouth twisted into a wry smile as the monkeys tried cornering the poor kid. Mac was enjoying this?
“Of course we do,” Tessa said, swatting his arm. Preying on Nick’s pride was mean, although she had to admit that perhaps he understood teen boys better than she did. She certainly wasn’t a model guardian. No doubt Mac would do better. “Just don’t tell him we are,” she said, heading for the terrace.
Mac followed her out, tossed the pair of squealing beggars a couple of peanuts from his pocket and told Tessa and Nick to head around the corner of the building. The scent of honeyed flowers from a nearby vine wafted on the breeze as they cleared the courtyard area. The rustling shade from a cluster of fig trees welcomed them down a path that gave way to a large clearing and a chopper that had to be his. They still had to walk out to it, since it was parked a safe distance from the lodge itself. She caught Nick actually giving his head a jerk to flick his hair out of the way for a better view. The helicopter was mostly white with a dark green strip down the side and big green lettering that said AWS.
It looked way too small for comfort. Tessa’s pulse quickened and her stomach clenched. The situation, desperation and the need to set an encouraging example for Nick were all that had gotten her through the trip here. Still, she’d left imprints on the arms of her seat during the flight over from Nairobi. But a helicopter wasn’t a commercial plane. A person didn’t feel air turbulence in a big plane the way they did in a little one. She knew that firsthand. She’d never forget the one time her sister and Allan had convinced her to go for a ride in their Cessna. It had been the first and last time. And now, knowing how their lives had ended, the idea of touring in Mac’s helicopter was hitting home. What had she been thinking?
You can do this. Don’t think about Maria. Trust Mac. He won’t let anything bad happen. He’s been flying forever. Allan had been, too.
“Not your kind of chariot?” Mac whispered over her shoulder. Tessa jumped and slapped her hand to her chest. Then she took a deep breath and studied the chopper.
“It’s perfect actually,” she said, forcing a smile. “Show us why Mac Walker decided to call this place home.”
This was it. She was in all the way. Now all she had to do was get him to agree to keep Nick. Doing so would mean swallowing her pride and sharing her worries about Brice. That also meant confessing that her life wasn’t turning out to be as stable and perfect as she’d hoped or let on. And to reckless Mac of all people. That was akin to begging for “I told you so.” As if Mac Walker weren’t cocky enough. She might as well hand him an extra serving of ego on a silver platter.
* * *
CONSIDERING THAT THIS trip had been her idea to begin with, Mac never thought Tessa would be the one scared to go up. Five minutes in the air and Tessa was still gripping the sides of her seat and she hadn’t opened her eyes once. Nick, on the other hand—sitting up front with Mac—had raked his hair out of his face repeatedly to take everything in. Mac resisted suggesting that Tessa loan his nephew her hair elastic.
Maybe being up here was good for the kid. Exposure therapy. A way to remember taking flights with his parents. Kids were more resilient than grown-ups gave them credit for. Tessa, however, had turned into a more cautious person, rather than a stronger one.
Mac spoke into his headset, giving them his usual tour spiel and pointing out the lay of the land and the view of Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance. He identified the wildlife herds they spotted, but was pretty sure Tessa didn’t hear a word. Too bad. Her loss. She was missing out on some spectacular scenery. She leaned to one side and rested her forehead in her hand.
Please don’t barf in my bird.
“You need an air sickness bag back there?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t make a mess. She scrunched her face but shook her head. He told her where they were kept in the back, anyway.
“Can we land for a few minutes?” Her mouth clamped shut as fast as the squeaky words left her lips. Boy. She really wasn’t doing so well. Mac altered course.
“Camp Jamba isn’t far. Hang in there.”
Camp Jamba was not a luxury tourist attraction—especially not for a Tessa caliber of tourist—but it was his favorite place to get away. A small camp, nice and remote with minimal offerings. The owners, Mugi and Kesi Lagat, were an older couple who’d become good friends to Mac over the years. More like family. And if this whole trip of Tessa’s was about trying to snap a teen boy out of his funk, then a taste of the rustic life might just do the trick. Come to think of it, taking him to Busara