The Redemption Of Jefferson Cade. Bj James

      Her long brown hair had been cut shorter. No scarf held the sleek, sophisticated mane in check as it brushed the line of her shoulders. Beneath the low-tipped brim of a hat similar to that of her companion’s, her face was angular and too thin, revealing bone structure that promised lasting beauty in happiness or grief, old or young. Her eyes were shadowed and veiled as she held his gaze.

      On a glance he had seen that she was too slender, too worn by her ordeal. Trousers of dark leather clung to her long legs and brushed the toes of her boots, making a tall woman seem taller, a slender woman, more slender. A lighter vest hung open over a soft shirt and brushed the belt buckled at her waist.

      Marissa, dressed as he’d seen her hundreds of times. As strong as he knew she would be. Resting an unsteady hand on the pommel of his saddle, vaguely aware that Marta, Juan, and even Alejandro watched him, and waited, he asked, “Are you all right?”

      Her eyelids swept down, shielding her eyes from his. Her lashes brushed the line of her cheekbone. But neither they nor the shadow of her hat could hide the toll of tragedy.

      Then, as a strong woman rediscovered her faltering stamina, her lashes swept up. As her dark gaze met his again, her somber lips tilted in a wavering smile. “I will be,” she said in barely more than a whisper. “Now that you’re here.”

      Now that you’re here. The words he didn’t know he’d waited for, spoken in the voice of the cultured woman. But with the wistfulness of the girl he’d first loved.

      In a fluid dismount, Jefferson was out of the saddle and on the ground and Marissa was in his arms. “You’re safe now, sweetheart,” he promised against her hair as her hat went spinning in the wind and the dust.

      Burrowing deeper into his embrace, her forehead against his shoulder, Marissa breathed in the familiar scent of him and reveled in his gentle touch. The scent she’d never forgotten. The touch that filled her dreams. “I was afraid you might not care. That you wouldn’t come.”

      Moving her away only a little, a knuckle beneath her chin lifted her face and her gaze to his. “I promised, Marissa. Remember? If ever you need me…”

      “I’ll come for you,” she finished for him as he intended she should. “And now you have. I should never have doubted a promise made by such a special friend. No matter how long ago.” Her laugh was low, a trembling sound, and there were tears on her cheeks. “First Juan and Marta, and now you, Jefferson. Friends risking your lives for mine. It’s more than I deserve. You’re all so much more than I deserve.”

      “No.” Jefferson gathered her back to him, to hide the tears he couldn’t bear to see. “Never more than that.”

      As he held Marissa, Jefferson was aware that Juan and Marta had moved away. Stealing rare moments for themselves even as they were giving reunited friends time alone. But only a little time, for in the distance he heard the rhythmic throb of a helicopter. The percussions of the blades grew closer and louder each passing minute. Though he didn’t want to let her go, there were duties to attend. Decisions to be made.

      Releasing Marissa, but taking her hand, he went with her to Juan and Marta as they stood by the mass of stones. It was then Jefferson realized that rather than random rubble, they were part of the ruins of a structure. A home once, perhaps. One, he suspected, that served again as shelter.

      Shelter for Marissa in the weeks since the crash of Paulo Rei’s plane. But what shelter would there be for this small family? Who would be their allies? If danger threatened, how could those who would repay their kindness help? Jefferson knew the collective answer to his question. Simon and the men and women of The Black Watch would offer and insure sanctuary for the Elias as the Elias offered sanctuary to Marissa. So would Jefferson Cade.

      Addressing Juan and Marta, he spoke into the escalating cacophony. “The men for whom we wait are coming. There will be room in the helicopter for both of you and your son. It won’t be safe here if it’s discovered Marissa wasn’t on the plane and that you helped her.

      “If you come with us, Simon assures safe passage into our country. With that, I promise a home and work for Juan with my brothers in the southeast. Or, if he chooses, with me in the west. Above all, we pledge you will be safe.”

      Juan had turned to face Jefferson and Marissa. With Alejandro in his arms, his eyes dwelt on the face of the young woman he had known all her life. “Marta and I understand the danger. We have from the first.”

      “Then you know it’s impossible for you to stay.” Jefferson met a dark gaze that took his measure.

      “Do you understand the danger if we go, Señor Cade?” Juan countered, as he put his son down to play.

      “You’re afraid that if you and Marta and Alejandro disappear there will be an investigation. Possibly raising suspicions that could lead to speculations about me.” Marissa’s hand grew taut in Jefferson’s as she saw beyond grief and guilt to the magnitude of what her friends had risked to help her.

      “Any investigation will bring outsiders to the estancia, querida. People who will question, perhaps too skillfully. And someone will remember you were here, helping Marta with Alejandro’s illness when it was thought you were on the plane. The time and place and circumstances will be investigated, and someone will realize the value of what he or she knows.” Leaving the rest of his warning unsaid, Juan drew a harsh breath.

      “Menendez has already proven his influence and his power. Someone will talk. For money, or in pain. Then he will search for you.” The gaucho’s darkly weathered face was grim. “The rotten threads of his ugly empire reach far and wide. His thugs know how to make the most unwilling speak. Wherever you are he will find you. And if he cannot take you, he will kill you, Rissa.”

      “That’s the chance I prefer. The chance I would gladly take. Looking over my shoulder, waiting for Menendez would be easier than living in fear of what could happen to you and Marta, and to Alejandro.” Marissa looked from Juan to Marta, to Alejandro who played quietly in the dust. “He’s the child I couldn’t have, I won’t risk losing him.”

      “This is our country.” Juan was adamant. “The estancia has been my home. If we stay, no suspicions will be aroused. The only newcomers will be those who inherit what your father left. We will be as safe here as anywhere, once you’re gone.”

      “You don’t think someone might remember, as you say, and talk to the new owners?” Jefferson drew Marissa back to him. With his arm resting across her shoulder, he discovered the brush of the tips of her hair against his wrist had the power to tantalize, even in times of crisis.

      “We are an isolated people, caring little for what happens in the world beyond the plain. The news of the crash and the suspicion of a bomb came first to me. Marissa was already in hiding before I spoke of the deaths to anyone. For all those of the estancia know, she had gone to join her family on the plane.

      “Later, on the occasion of my visits here, Marta made sensible, believable explanations.” Juan’s look met Jefferson’s, daring him to doubt Marta. “As she convinced the curious you were an American journalist seeking a story, Señor Cade.”

      “It’s too flimsy, Juan. You can’t trust that no one will question the timing.” It was naive of the gaucho to believe he could protect Marissa so easily. But Jefferson realized he couldn’t convince this most stubborn man of it. A man who didn’t want to uproot his family and turn his back on the only way of life he’d ever known any less than he wanted to see Marissa hurt.