“Shoot,” William muttered. “I didn’t bring one.”
There it was.
“I can’t go without a hat.”
“You’re welcome to stay here. I’ll pay.” Andrew got into the driver’s seat and slid the key into the ignition.
“Tempting, but you know I can’t do that.” With pleading eyes, William glanced between me and the hotel. “The resort store opens at ten. We can get a hat there.”
I turned to Andrew. “We’re already late. What’s another thirty minutes? He needs a hat.”
Andrew’s eyes bored into mine, and his jaw ticked. He groaned, got out of the car, and marched towards a group of workers trimming flowering bushes. After a short exchange, he pulled his wallet out and handed them cash.
“Oh no,” William whispered. “He is not doing what I think he’s doing.”
“It looks like it.” I smiled.
Andrew returned to the car with a gardener’s straw hat in hand.
“Here you go. A hat.” He held it to William.
William shook his head. “I’m not wearing it. Are you mad? It’s dirty and has someone else’s sweat and oils on it.”
Andrew pulled a cotton handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to William. “It’s clean. Wear it underneath the hat. Please work with me. Once we get to the town. You can buy a new one.”
“Freaking Mr. Darcy,” William groused. “Who in this century carries a hanky?”
With an exaggerated sigh, my brother unfolded the handkerchief and placed it on his head. I swallowed the laugh that wanted to burst out of me. If I laughed, we weren’t leaving until the store opened. Cringing, William turned the hat a few times and then set it on his head.
“I should get a cut of your money for doing this.” He pointed at me and climbed into the back seat.
The car came alive with a loud roar, and Andrew wheeled it out of the hotel parking lot onto a busy road.
“How long is the drive?” I placed my sunglasses on, grateful I’d applied SPF 50 all over my body.
“If everything goes well, we should be there by three,” Andrew said, paying attention to cars zooming by. He changed gears, and the Jeep made a choking noise.
“Aren’t you worried this car… um… won’t make it far? Did you hear that struggling sound?” I asked and pulled a chunk of my hair out of my mouth. One of the things I didn’t like about cars like this was the constant whipping of my hair around my face and then arriving at the destination with a bird’s nest of frizzy hair. I pulled my purse onto my lap and rummaged inside for a hair tie.
“Not at all.” Andrew pulled the Jeep onto the highway, and the wind worsened as the car accelerated.
I made a messy bun on my head, certain that my presentation wasn’t the prettiest, but I wasn’t here to impress anybody. I was here to help to find a priceless treasure… or whatever.
It was hard to carry on a conversation with constant noise around us, so for four hours we drove without exchanging a single word. At a small gas station, we used the dirty bathroom, where I had to drop paper towels on the floor to protect my shoes as I edged to a questionable hole in the ground with flies buzzing above it.
Before we continued, Andrew bought us lunch wrapped in banana leaves from a food cart next to a thatched house. Colombian tamales were out of this world delicious. Flavors of braised salty pork, potatoes, and carrots swaddled in sweet masa danced on my tongue. I wished I’d asked for two.
At three thirty in the afternoon, Andrew made the last turn, and we entered the center of a town with cobblestoned streets lined with buildings painted with vibrant murals, bright flowers on windows and by front doors, a few outdoor cafés, and a couple of bars—judging by neon beer logos. Andrew parked in a quiet, sleepy alley and turned off the engine.
“I’ll go to the museum alone.” Andrew pushed his sunglasses off his face to the top of his head. “If I need you, I’ll call you. Please keep your phone on.”
“Can you just text me?” I said. “I don’t get charged for incoming texts.”
“If I message you, I won’t know if you got it or not. I’d like to call you. I’ll reimburse you for any expense.” Andrew grabbed a small notebook and flashlight out of the center console and jumped out of the car, before veering around the corner.
“I need a stiff drink,” William said, wafting the hat in front of his face. “That drive was so not good for my skin.” He gently touched his cheek and then glanced at his finger. “So much dirt. My pores are crying right now.”
“And a drink will help you how?” I unfastened the buckle and twisted in my seat to face him. I needed to stretch my legs too, but we couldn’t leave our stuff unattended in the car.
