“Me?” I wanted to sob, but I couldn’t allow myself to break down. “Your grandmother blew a man’s balls off today.”
His laugh was rich and undiluted. It was the most marvelous, catching sound to me.
“My grandmother was fingerprinted, photographed, and let off,” he said. “They found K.K.’s body in a ditch. She deserves an award for putting that monster to rest.”
“I’m glad he’s gone. I think we can all get a good night’s sleep.”
“They’re all down for the night—Goma, Scholastica, Bahati. You should pretend you’re sleeping too.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To get me to carry you up the stairs, like the last time.”
“I knew it! I knew you knew.” I covered my face with my hands. “Was I that obvious?” I peeked at him through my fingers.
“Completely.” He scooped me up and paused at the door so I could turn off the porch light. “You practically threw yourself at me. Drove me crazy the night the hyenas came, standing before the light in that muumuu so I could see your every curve. You made googly eyes at me over the clothesline. Cornered me in the barn.” With each stair, he added to his list. “Kissed me senseless. Fell at my feet—”
“I slipped! I nose-dived into the mud.”
“Like I said. You fell at my feet, tossed off your top in the tent, flashed your boobs—”
I smothered him with a kiss. Oh, I knew exactly how to shut him up. And then I proceeded to make him completely lose his train of thought.
TIME. THE LESSyou have of it, the more precious it becomes. I was stringing every moment I had with Jack like a pearl on a necklace. Goma caught me, propped up against the door, the steam from my coffee drifting into the morning air, as I watched Jack work in the fields. She knew we held hands under the table, that our eyes spoke words no one else could hear, that we disappeared for hours and came back with our faces flushed and bits of hay sticking out of our hair. She stripped my bed, washed the sheets, and put them away in the linen closet. There was no need to sneak back into my room in the mornings.
Scholastica’s new glasses arrived, but she clung to Mo’s, until Goma caved and called Dr. Nasmo for another appointment—this time to get new lenses fitted into Mo’s frames.
“I’m keeping her,” said Goma, after she got off the phone.
“Keeping who?” Jack dried his hands and sat down to eat.
It was lunchtime—too hot to be working outside. It meant a long break, and Jack knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. He gave me a devilish grin that set my pulse racing.
“Scholastica. I’m keeping her.” Goma poured herself some water and challenged Jack over the rim of the glass.
“Keeping her?” Jack put his fork down. “She’s not like Aristurtle, that you can build a box and keep her in there. She needs school, kids to play with, a stimulating environment. Rodel promised Anna she’d get Scholastica to Wanza.”
“You really want to take her to Wanza? You saw the place for yourself. Her father doesn’t want her living there, either. He’s building a house in Wanza so she can go to school there but come home at night. So until he shows up, I’m keeping her. There’s no better place for her right now. She’s learning the alphabet, she runs around with horses and calves, gets plenty of exercise, good food, and a good night’s rest. I’ve already talked to Anna. She’s still trying to find a way to support herself and her kids, so until she’s more settled she has no objections to Scholastica living with us.”
“Look.” Jack leaned across the table and took Goma’s hands in his. “I get it. You’ve grown attached to her. God knows, I have too. Every time I see her, I’m reminded what this place felt like when Lily was around. I don’t see why she can’t stay here until we hear from her father, but we don’t know when that will be. What if he never shows? What if something’s happened to him? K.K. wasn’t the only guy trading albino kids. What if Gabriel became a problem and someone decided to eliminate him? He could be buried in the middle of nowhere. What happens to Scholastica then? This isn’t just a short-term commitment. We’ve got to cover all the bases and do what’s best for her. Even if that means putting our own feelings aside.”
The door opened, and Scholastica walked in with Bahati. They were laughing, trying to keep things from rolling out of their hands: potatoes, carrots, and bright red tomatoes, freshly picked from the veggie patch.
“Let’s discuss this later,” Jack said to Goma, as Scholastica washed her hands and plopped down next to Jack. She unwrapped a paper towel and handed him the biggest, ripest tomato.
“You saved that one for me?” asked Jack. It was plain to see how much they adored each other.
“What’s this?” asked Bahati, picking up an envelope from the table. It had his name on it.
“It came for you this morning,” replied Goma. “A very pretty Maasai girl delivered it.”
“A love letter, Bahati? You’ve been holding out on us.” Jack slapped him on the back.
Bahati didn’t take any notice. He sat down, his eyes scanning the paper. When he was done, he looked up with a blank expression.
“Everything all right?” I asked.
“My father . . .” He looked from me to Jack to Goma, still clutching the letter.
