Chapter One
Macapá, Brazil
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BRAZIL WAS JUST A POLITEword replacement forwelcome to Hades.
Katrina Landon dabbed a white, lace handkerchief at her moist neck for the umpteenth time, uncomfortable with the smoldering heat in this country. Why people lived in temperatures that were so blasted hot, she certainly didn’t know. She had gone from the cold winter temperatures of England and jumped into the fire.
In the two days since she arrived, she had seen women wearing lightweight clothes. At first, she thought it scandalous, but now she wished she could trade places with them just long enough to cool down. Even the shoes she wore seemed too stuffy for her feet. And why, in heaven’s name, had she worn her warmest dress? Then again, she had never been to this country and didn’t know what to expect.
She and her mother had been walking for at least ten minutes after leaving the inn where they were staying. She’d already had enough of this heat and she wanted to return home to London. If not for her frail mother who grasped Katrina’s elbow tightly as they moved down the cobblestone road, she would have insisted they return home and forget about this place, and especially the reason for coming.
Unfortunately, Katrina couldn’t do that. There were two reasons she was here. One, to meet the absentee father who had never cared about her as a child, and two... to try and stop the terrible tragedy that would happen soon. If not for the inheritance her father promised Katrina if she came, she might night had wasted her time. Now she just wanted it over with so she and Mother could return home.
“Where did the innkeeper say that building was?” she asked her mother. Katrina scanned both sides of the busy street, but she couldn’t see any building that was fancy enough to be a solicitor’s office.
Her mother paused, placed a hand on the bodice of her baby blue day dress, and took a deep breath. Fatigue from the walk was evident on her pale face and the way she struggled for her next breath. If the innkeeper would have told them the solicitor’s office was this far away, Katrina would have hailed down a hackney for them to travel in.
She gently patted her mother’s hand. “Are you going to be able to make it?”
A weary smile tugged on the corners of her mother’s mouth. “Allow me to catch my breath first.”
Katrina took another quick glance at the nearby buildings. One was a milliner’s shop. “Look.” She pointed to the store. “Let me take you there. I’m certain they will have a place for you to sit. I can look for the solicitor’s office—”
“I won’t hear of it.” Her mother’s voice was strong considering how ill she appeared. “We shall go together. All I need is another minute or so to collect my strength before we move on.”
Leaning her slender body against the nearest tree, her mother patted a shaky hand to her tight bun her hair was coiled in to. A few strands of light brown hair, lightly streaked with gray, had fallen loose from their walk. In the past ten years, their lowly situation had taken its toll on Katrina’s mother, which caused more wrinkles on the mid forty-year-old woman’s face. She had been a very handsome woman in her youth.
Katrina wished she could convince her parent to hire a hackney, but they were very low on funds. She didn’t dare argue with her mother for fear it would take too much of the woman’s energy.
Once more, Katrina took in their surroundings. The buildings were not as close together as what she was used to in London. Some were even slightly nicer in this small town.
It surprised Katrina that more of the Brazilian people didn’t gape at them as if they had accidentally entered the wrong country, especially since they wore more fashionable gowns in London than in this country.
She dabbed the handkerchief at her neck again. For certain the material of her day dress was too thick.
Laughter from children pulled Katrina’s attention to across the street. Three little girls, who she suspected were between six and eight years of age, were kicking a leather ball back and forth to each other near the main road. It appeared they were trying to keep it in their circle as they moved slowly up the street.
Katrina’s first urge was to smile, but then memories from her lonely childhood resurfaced, reminding her that she didn’t have many friends, and the acquaintances she had were adults. None of them took the time to play kick ball. Then again, they were too weary for childish games after a long day of serving ale.
In an instant, her mind opened up, taking her away for a moment, and she saw the three girls again. The older one with pigtails kicked the ball hard, making it roll into the street. The younger girl darted after it. Not far up the street, an out-of-control wagon surged toward the girl. The young girl looked up to see the vehicle, but froze...
A loud commotion shook Katrina from her premonition as a wagon raced down the street. People who’d been crossing the road scampered to get out of the man’s way. Immediately, she looked toward the girls. For now, they were safe, but her forewarning let her know that might not be the end result.
Holding her breath, she switched her gaze between the girls and the speeding horses pulling the wagon. Suddenly, the older girl kicked the ball into the road. The youngest girl scampered out, chasing the toy. With arms outstretched in front of her, the girl’s attention was only focused on the ball as her long, black locks of hair bounced around her shoulders.
“No!” Katrina shouted as her heartbeat quickened. She rushed after the girl. Katrina’s mother’s voice pierced the air, but she ignored the older woman. Although it placed Katrina in danger, she must try to save the little girl.
Not worrying about the toy ball, Katrina ran after the child. The wagon came closer, and the girl finally noticed. Just as what happened in Katrina’s forewarning, the girl’s body froze as she watched the approaching wagon. Quickly, Katrina scooped her up in her arms. Her speedy footsteps didn’t falter, and she was able to deliver the girl on the other side of the road before the wild horses could run them over.
Katrina expelled a gush of air as she set the child down. The girl’s big brown eyes were wide with fright. She looked at Katrina, and then toward the wagon moving along down the road. The girl muttered something in her native language as a smile of gratitude touched her mouth. Katrina couldn’t understand the words, but the child’s expression said it all.
“I’m glad you’re safe.” Katrina nodded to the girl. “Just stay away from the road and you won’t get hurt.” She pointed to where the girl’s friends stood, both with wide eyes and mouths agape.
Sighing again with relief, Katrina moved back across the street toward her mother. More color had evaded the frail woman’s already pale cheeks. Inwardly, Katrina groaned. She didn’t mean to worry her, but the child had to be saved.
“Thank the Lord you are all right,” her mother said in a rush, grasping Katrina’s hands.
