Page 34 of Hot Soldier's Rescue

She’d refused at first. She had to get their bodies. Give them a proper burial. The others had pointed to the pillar of smoke and sparks rising over the ridge behind them as darkness fell. The army had seen to removing all evidence of the massacre. There would be no bodies left to bury.

“Look,” Mia whispered urgently.

Elise glanced back to where the child pointed and, through a small gap in the trees, saw black smoke billowing up into the sky. She groaned aloud. It was too much. Too close to history repeating itself. Her knees collapsed and she sank into the wet leaves.

Grandma bent down to pat her shoulder and murmured implacably, “It was just a house. Just things. We are alive because of your quick action. And that is what matters.”

Someone had said something similar to her that day, too. Lucky for them they’d gone on the hike or they’d be dead, too. It hadn’t comforted her then, and it didn’t now.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped.

Grandma frowned. “For what? You did nothing but save us.”

“I got you into this—”

“No, you didn’t. I knew exactly who those children were when I agreed to take them in. My daughter was a maid in their home and she told me they were sweet babies who’d never done anything to anyone.”

The admission startled Elise. “Why did you do it, then? Particularly if you knew who they were and that something like this could happen?”

The older woman’s voice was deep and wise. “Now, Sister, you know how it is when you listen to your heart. Mine told me it was the right thing to do. So I took them in and got on with it. God will take care of the rest.”

The woman’s indomitable faith was humbling. Elise knew without a shadow of a doubt she had no such strength within her. “Speaking of which, is there another village nearby? Do you know anyone in the area with whom we can stay?”

Grandma nodded. “There’s a village about ten kilometers west of here. We might reach it by nightfall.”

Elise was alarmed. Over six miles? Grandma was no spring chicken. Her back was hunched and her legs bowed with age. “Can you make it that far?” she asked doubtfully.

“The Lord will give me strength.” Her eyes twinkled as she added, “And I’m not quite dead, yet.”

Elise had forgotten how tough the people were in this part of the world. Life had to be wrestled from the land by sheer force of will. She struck out in the direction Grandma indicated. The going was miserable at first, but then they found a footpath heading in the general direction they wanted. It probably was made and used by drug runners or rebels, and she trod it gingerly. She really didn’t need to run into any violent insurgents with an elderly woman and two small children in tow.

True to her word, Grandma held up for the long hike. They actually had to stop more often for the children to rest than for her. Mia was silent and uncomplaining, but Elise didn’t like the haunted look in her eyes. The child was far too aware of the fate they’d just escaped and appeared to be reliving nightmares of her own.

She gathered Mia’s stiff body in her lap, hugging the child in spite of her apparent resistance to being comforted. She’d been Mia herself. She knew exactly how badly the child needed reassurance. She might not deserve love herself, but this child certainly did. “Sweetie,” she whispered, “I’ll never let anyone hurt you. I promise. And I’ll keep promising that until you believe me.”

She thought she felt the little girl relax fractionally.

“You’re the bravest little girl I’ve ever met. Not much longer, and then you won’t have to be brave anymore. You and me, we’ll have a little cry together, and then we’ll both feel better.”

Elise’s heart melted as the child’s thin arms squeezed her neck in the briefest of hugs. It was a start. By golly, she’d help Mia make the long climb back to happiness if it killed her. Although she sincerely hoped it didn’t come to that. She rather liked being alive.

It turned out Grandma’s lumpy bag was a few handy survival supplies, including a knife, a collapsible jug, and to Elise’s delicate American gut’s vast relief, a tiny brown bottle of water purification tablets. During one of their breaks by a stream, while they waited for the water she’d scooped into the jug to become safe to drink, Elise sat down beside Mia again.

“How are you doing, short stuff?”

The little girl merely shrugged. Elise winced. God, how she knew the feeling of being unable to express the horror consuming her.

“I was pretty scared at first when we left the village,” Elise commented, “but then I remembered that God looks out especially for children. And since I’m with you and your brother, I figure I’ll be safe, too.”

“You think?” Mia mumbled.

“I know. Have you ever heard stories about how fiercely a mother jaguar protects her cubs?”

Mia nodded.

“Well, jaguars are wimps compared to human mommies. And the way I see it, you and Emanuel are my cubs now. I bet if you asked Grandma, she’d say the same thing. God sent you not one but two fierce mama jaguars to look out for you. He must think you and your brother are pretty special. Grandma and I, we’ll do whatever it takes to keep the two of you safe.”

“You can’t be a mother. You’re a nun.”

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