Her Hard To Resist Husband. Tina Beckett

the guard again. “We’ll follow you out to the village once I’ve destroyed the samples. We need to use my four-wheel drive to haul some equipment.”

      The guard swept his hat onto his head before relaying the message to his superiors. When he finished the call, he said, “My commander will have someone meet you at the town square and direct you to the triage area they’ve set up. But you must hurry.”

      Ben nodded. “Tell them we’ll be there within three hours.”

      “Vai com Deus.”

      The common “Go with God” farewell had an ominous ring to it—as if the man had crossed himself in an attempt to ward off evil. And pneumonic plague was all that and more. Its cousin had killed off large swaths of the world’s population in the past.

      Despite her misgivings about working with Ben again, a couple of muscles in her stomach relaxed. At least she wouldn’t have to fight this particular battle on her own.

      Ben would be there with her.

      And if he found out the truth about the genetic testing she’d had done before their separation?

      Then she would deal with it. Just as she’d dealt with the loss of her baby and her own uncertain prognosis.

      Alone.

      As they hurried to finish loading his vehicle, a streak of lightning darted across the sky, pausing to lick the trunk of a nearby tree before sliding back into the clouds. The smell of singed wood reached Ben a few seconds later, followed by an ominous rumble that made the ground tremble.

      Tracy, who stood beside him, shuddered. “Only in Teresina.”

      He smiled. “Remember the city’s nickname? Chapada do corisco: flash-lightning flatlands. If ever lightning was going to strike twice in the same spot, it would be here.” He shut the back of the grey four-wheel-drive vehicle. “I’d rather not put that theory to the test, though, so, if you’re ready to go, hop in.”

      She climbed into the SUV and buckled in, staring in the direction the jagged flash had come from. “That poor tree looks like it’s lightning’s favorite prom date, judging from the color.”

      Scarred from multiple strikes over the years, it stubbornly clung to life, clusters of green leaves scattered along its massive branches. Ben had no idea how it had survived so many direct hits.

      Their marriage certainly hadn’t been as lucky.

      He got behind the wheel and started the car. “It’ll eventually have to come down.”

      “Through no fault of its own,” she murmured. “It’s sad.”

      Was she thinking of what had happened between them? It had taken every ounce of strength he’d had after she’d left, but he’d forced himself to keep living. In reality, though, she had been gone long before she’d actually moved out of the house. He’d accepted it and moved forward.

      Right.

      That’s why he was on his way to São João dos Rios right now, with Tracy in tow. He should have just shut her down and said no. General Gutierrez would have backed him in his decision. So why hadn’t he?

      “You sure you want to do this? The airport is on our way. We could still have you on a flight to São Paulo in a jiffy.”

      She jerked in her seat, gripping the webbing of the seat belt before shifting to look at him. “I can’t just turn my back on the town. That’s not how I operate.”

      Really? It had seemed all too easy for her to turn her back on him. But saying so wouldn’t help anyone.

      They reached the entrance to the highway, and Ben sighed when he saw metal barricades stretched across its width.

      The four-lane road—long under construction—was still not finished.

      He coasted down a steep incline to reach the so-called official detour, which consisted of a narrow dirt track running parallel to the road. It looked more like a gully from water run-off than an actual street. As far as the eye could see, where the highway should have been there was now a long stretch of hard-packed orange clay that was impassable. At the moment trucks seemed to be the only vehicles braving the washboard tract Ben and Tracy were forced to use. Then again, there was no other option. Most things, including food, were moved from city to city via semi-tractor-trailers. And with the current conditions of the highway it was no wonder things were so expensive in northeastern Brazil.

      “How long have they been working on this?” Tracy asked.

      “Do you really need to ask?”

      “No. But it was paved the last time I was here.”

      They’d spent most of their marriage in Teresina, the capital of the state of Piaui. He’d rearranged his job so he could stay in one place. Ben thought Tracy had been willing to do the same. How wrong he’d been.

      She had come off the medical boat and put someone else in her place, but that was about the only concession she’d made to their marriage. By the time he’d realized she was never going to slow down, he’d lost more than just his wife.

      “Yes, it was paved, after a fashion.” He grimaced. “I think the shoulder we’re on is in better shape than the highway was back then.”

      Ben slowed to navigate a particularly bad stretch where torrential rains had worn a deep channel into the dirt. “Well, some parts of it, anyway.”

      “My car would never survive the trip.”

      He smiled. “Are you still driving that little tin can?”

      “Rhonda gets great gas mileage.”

      His gut twisted. He could still remember the laughter they’d shared over Tracy’s insistence on keeping her ragamuffin car when they’d got married, despite the hazardous stretches of road in Teresina. To his surprise, the little vehicle had been sturdier than it had appeared, bumping along the worst of the cobblestone streets with little more than an occasional hiccup. Like the bumper she’d lost on a visit to one of the neighboring aldéias. She’d come back with the thing strapped to the roof. He smiled. When he’d suggested it was time to trade the vehicle in, she’d refused, patting the bonnet and saying the car had seen her through some tough spots.

      His smile faded. Funny how her loyalty to her car hadn’t been mirrored in her marriage.

      He cast around for a different subject, but Tracy got there first.

      “How’s Marcelo doing?”

      Ben’s brother was the new chief of neurosurgery over at Teresina’s main hospital. “He’s fine. Still as opinionated as ever.”

      She smiled. “Translated to mean he’s still single.”

      “Always will be, if he has his way.” He glanced over at her. “What about you? How’s Projeto Vida going?” The medical-aid ship that had brought them together was still Tracy’s pet project.

      “Wonderfully. Matt is back on the team and has a baby girl now.”

      Tracy’s sister had died years ago, leaving her husband, Matt, heartbroken. “He remarried?”

      “Yep. Two years ago.” She paused. “Stevie … Stephani, actually, is great. She loves the job and fits right into the team.”

      “I’m glad. Matt seemed like a nice guy.” Ben had met him on several occasions when they’d traveled to Coari to deliver supplies or check on the medical boat.

      “He is. It’s good to see him happy again.”

      Which was more than he could say about Tracy. Maybe it was the stress of what she’d been dealing with in São João dos Rios, but the dark circles under her green eyes worried him. He glanced to the side for a quick peek. The rest of her looked exactly as he remembered, though. Long, silky black hair that hung