After a quick look around she found a sheet of canvas folded over the supplies; at least that would keep the wet from her clothes. And she still had the mosquito netting from Liam’s bag, somewhat the worse for wear. One of those palmetto huts would provide shelter from the rain. She’d seen modern Maya use them in the jungle.
Her stomach gave a mighty protest. All right—she’d have to throw herself on Liam’s hospitality at least as far as a good meal went; she’d need her strength from now on. Damn, what she wouldn’t give for a Dr Pepper right now. It might be some time before she could indulge that minor addiction.
Tossing the canvas and netting under the nearer of the shelters, she sauntered back toward the fire, where Fernando was already dishing out tin plates of steaming beans mixed with shredded meat. Hand-shaped tortillas were stacked on a flat stone set beside the fire.
“Eat,” Liam commanded, pushing a plate into her hands. “I won’t have you swooning for lack of nourishment.”
Mac was too hungry to resent his patronizing tone. The food was wonderful; her hunger was no gourmet. Even the mystery meat was tender and delicious.
“What is this?” she asked. “The meat, I mean.”
“Tepeizcuintes,” Liam said. “Also known as agouti.”
Mac felt the lump of food stick in her throat. Agoutis were short-eared, long-legged rodents; she’d seen them in nature shows. No worse than rabbit, she thought. She smiled at Fernando and held out her plate. “Gracias. More?”
When she had finished the second helping she searched for some means of washing her plate.
“Fernando will take care of it,” Liam said. Just as he spoke, large drops of rain began to fall, sizzling in the fire. All too quickly the drops became a downpour. Fernando gathered up the cooking supplies and excess food; Liam got to his feet without haste. “If you want to sleep dry, I suggest you get to shelter.”
A little too late for that. Mac slung water from her bangs and considered the dubious haven of the open palmetto-frond huts. Maybe they’d keep most of the rain out, anyway. She trudged through a growing soup of mud and poked her head under the makeshift roof. A small tree served as one part of the support, a sturdy stripped sapling pole another. The ground was unmistakably damp.
Mac sighed and toed the canvas sheeting. Her backpack would make a hard pillow…
“Take this.”
She turned at Liam’s voice. He held a bulky bundle of fabric and netting in his arms and was already walking past her, bending low to keep from bumping his head on the roof. “One of the men who deserted left his hammock.”
She watched as he strung the hammock between the pole and the tree. It looked more like a torture device than something to sleep in, but it would get her off the ground.
“Thanks,” she said. “I… appreciate it.”
“Fernando will be in the other champas, should you need anything.” he said. “Unless, of course, you’ll join me in the tent—”
“This will be fine.”
He shrugged and strode from the champas into the tent. Fernando was nowhere in sight. Only the stolid mule kept her company, head down and inured to the rain.
Soaked to the skin and hot enough to create her own steam, Mac retreated deeper into the champas. For a while she simply stood and stared out at the torrent, struggling to blank her mind. Gradually the rain subsided and stopped, leaving in its wake a syncopated rhythm of runoff from the jungle canopy above. The dusk wildlife chorus had dwindled to the occasional screech or hoot or unidentifiable cry. The world was plunged into a humid, vibrating darkness.
Mac poked her head out of the shelter and saw Liam’s tent lit from within like a paper lantern. His silhouette was visible, a shadow-shape rising from the desk against the tent wall. Even as she watched he shrugged out of his shirt, muscular arms flexing, and tossed it aside. His body was formed like a sculpture, its clean lines sharply delineated in profile. His hands moved to his waist, fingers working at buttons.