The thought triggered a long-forgotten memory. Laughter, soft and contagious, the two of them whispering together in the rain. Rio swinging her into his arms and spinning in a circle while drops fell on her upturned face. Her breath caught in her throat. It never happened. She would know if she had been with him. Rio was not a man a woman would ever forget or want to give up.
“Come on, I’m going to take you outside. It’s raining, but the roof over the verandah has no leaks so you can sit in the open for a while. I know what it’s like to feel caged. Let me do the work,” he said. He slipped his arms under her legs. “Put your arms around my neck.”
“I weigh a lot,” she cautioned, obediently linking her fingers behind his neck. Joy was blossoming inside her, a deep glowing warmth bubbling over at the prospect of getting out of the bed, and of looking at open sky.
“I think I can manage,” he said dryly. “Be prepared when I lift you, it’s going to hurt.”
It did, so much so that she buried her face against the warmth of his neck, choking off a startled cry. Pain radiated up her leg, hit the pit of her stomach and exploded
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throughout her body. Her fingernails dug into his skin and she bit down hard on her thumb.
“I’m sorry, Rachael, I know it hurts,” he said softly.
He moved smoothly, almost gliding so there was no jarring to her swollen leg. As he stepped through the door, the natural hum of the forest greeted her. Insects and frogs, the chatter of animals, the flutter of wings and the constant sound of the rain all blended together.
Rio had pulled a soft, overstuffed chair outside, his one prized possession. He placed her carefully in it, propping her leg on a pillow on a kitchen chair. Rachael leaned her head back and took in the high feathery canopy through the fine mosquito netting. The entire verandah was enclosed. The railings were made from tree branches, gnarled and polished, blending in with the surrounding trees so that she couldn’t tell where the forest began and the railings left off.
Rio sank onto the chair beside her, holding out the glass of cool liquid. “Drink this, Rachael, it might help to cool you down. In another hour or so, I can give you more meds to help bring down your fever.”
She was sweating from the pain more than the fever, but she didn’t want to tell him that, not after he’d gone to such trouble. The wind was cooler on her face, tugging at the wild curls in her hopeless mass of hair. She ran her fingers through it before taking the glass from him. Her hand was trembling enough that some of the cool liquid splashed over the rim of the glass. “Rio, tell me the truth.” She stared carefully out into the tree trunks and limbs heavily laden with wild orchids of every color. “Am I going to lose my leg?” Everything in her was still, waiting for his answer, telling herself she could handle the truth. “I’d much rather know now.”
Rio shook his head. “I can’t make promises, Rachael, but the swelling is less. Your fever comes and goes instead of raging all the time. There aren’t any more streaks going up your leg so I think we’ve avoided blood poisoning. As soon as we can, I’ll get you to a medic and have them
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take a look at it. The river goes down fairly quickly.”
“I can’t go to a doctor,” she admitted reluctantly. “No one can know I’m still alive. If they find out, I’m dead anyway.”
He watched her lips touch the glass, the contents of the glass tilt, her throat work as she swallowed. He stretched his legs out in front of him, sprawling out as if totally relaxed when he was anything but. “Who wants you dead, Rachael?”
“It isn’t really pertinent, is it? I had the presence of mind to shed my shoes in the water. They might be found when they look for me. And believe me, they’ll look. They’ll hire the best trackers they can find.”