stop shaking and they’d been on solid ground for a good fifteen minutes now. She sat on an overturned log that served as a bench near the entrance to Camp Jamba—the kind of camp that catered to granola-loving tree-huggers, from what she could see. She sure hoped they had a jeep and driver here. The thought of going back up in the air made her hands hot and head cold. We landed in one piece. We landed in one piece.
Nick had followed Mac inside, clearly more comfortable with watching wildlife from the air than from the ground. She glanced back at the small, earthy-looking, thatched-roof cottage that Mac told her was both the main office for the camp and the owners’ home. Guests, she assumed, rented one of the framed tents, fashioned from sticks and tarps, that dotted an area about ten yards from the main house. A stone-lined dirt path led to each one and a grove of elephant pepper trees kept the area cool. The entire camp was situated on a low rise overlooking a branch of what Mac had said was the Mara River and a formidable expanse of the Masai Mara grasslands beyond.
She closed her eyes and the fluttering shadows that danced against her lids soothed her nerves. The sounds that surrounded her kind of reminded her of the music they played in her yoga meditation class at home. A person didn’t need earbuds or music here. The air was filled with song so complex, so mesmerizing, it could never be man-made. It was magical. It soothed her motion sickness. She’d never been more out of place, yet she’d never felt so unexpectedly at peace. She was surprised that anything related to Mac’s life could make her feel that way.
She was simply overcome with relief from having successfully fled her house in the Cape with the flash drives. She was projecting that emotion onto Mac’s wilderness. That was all.
Wow. She’d actually taken a risk and made it this far. She had to admit the feeling was a little thrilling. A bit empowering. Mac was the last person on earth she’d ever confess that to. But it wasn’t over and risks came at a price. She knew that better than anyone.
“Drink this,” Mac said, walking up and handing her a soda. “They’re getting more bottled water later today and I didn’t want to risk the well tap on you, even with a filter in place. The bubble in this will make you feel better in any case.” She reluctantly opened her eyes.
“Thanks,” Tessa said, taking the cold bottle from him. Her fingers touched his. She ignored the ripple in her chest and rubbed her fingertips up and down the icy dew that had formed on her bottle. She drank and immediately felt her stomach settle. “Is Nick okay?”
“Yes. He’s browsing some wood carvings and a few things they have for sale, souvenir-wise. They don’t really have a gift shop. When real guests are here, they put out things like T-shirt samples on the porch, but keep the inventory inside their home.”
“I didn’t give him any of the rand I converted to shillings yet.”
“Not a problem. He’s just looking.”
They both sat quietly, taking in the exquisite view of acacia trees and a herd of elephants passing them in the distance. The leaves of the pepper trees rustled overhead and the chatter of a million animal languages vibrated through the air in a lulling rhythm.
“So this is why you live here,” she said. A hint of admission was easier to take than awkward silence.
He nodded.
“It does make for nice meditating,” she allowed.
“And it’s free. Always amazes me that people will dish money out for things to help them relax, yet they never bother to try going for a walk or sitting somewhere like this.”
“Not everyone has access to a place like this. Or even a backyard. You really like prejudging and making assumptions, don’t you? For your information, group meditation classes do have their benefits. They’re motivating and supportive and they really help with anxiety. I even took Nick to one.”
“Bet he loved that.”
She pressed her lips together and turned away. No, Nick had hated it, but Mac didn’t need to know.
“I’m sorry about cutting our flight short. Obviously I’ve flown before—not in a helicopter and I avoid small planes, but big ones I can handle—and I didn’t expect to react the way I did. I was never good at going out on boats with my parents, either. Not even when I was little. At first, it was the motion sickness. Later on it was the nightmares I’d have about them out there on their own. I should have never, ever watched movies like Jaws or The Perfect Storm.” She took another sip. “This mental image of Maria and Allan crashing flashed before me after we took off and I couldn’t get rid of it.”
Mac etched the dry ground with the end of a stick.
“Don’t worry about it. It happened to me a couple of times after the funeral. I had to work a little harder at putting it out of my head and getting in my pilot’s seat. When someone calls you and needs help, it makes putting your fears aside easier. The nerves and memories do hit you in random spurts, don’t they?”
Tessa dug the heel of her sneaker into the ground and ran it back and forth forming a coffin-like trench. Any bigger and she’d be saving Mac the trouble of figuring out where to hide her body once she spilled the truth. She pulled her ponytail loose and scratched her scalp.
“I’m leaving him with you, Mac,” she said, keeping her eyes on a herd wandering so far off in the distance that she couldn’t identify them. “I’m so sorry, but I need to leave him with you. He doesn’t know yet.”
She finally braved a glance at Mac. His jaw was popping like there was no tomorrow as he stared at the dirt just beyond his boots.
“And I had just started to think you were actually coming out of your glass cocoon to enjoy the world around you. That your maternal instincts had kicked in full throttle. Yet you’ve planned all this—this trip—and failed to discuss your decision with either of us. Nice one, Tess.”
“Trust me on this,” she said.
Mac stood abruptly and turned on her.
“I do trust on a case-by-case basis.”
“Brice isn’t father material. He doesn’t have the patience and he’s so busy he’s never around. Nick deserves better than that. He needs a male role model. He’s miserable with me, Mac. And I... I have work I need some time to focus on.”
Mac narrowed his eyes.
“Are you trying to tell me Brice is mistreating him or something? And that you have more important things to do than care for Nick?”
“No! Brice is simply not present and I can’t do this alone.” It was true that Brice hadn’t exactly been an attentive husband or guardian lately, but that was a separate issue. “Nick simply doesn’t mix in well with our life. Our lifestyle is too...”
“Sterile?” Mac offered. She glared.
“If you care at all about Nick, you’ll take him in. At least for a while,” she said, trying to soften the blow but knowing full well that “a while” would turn into “until he’s a legal adult.”
Mac sat back down and scrubbed at his face.
“I’m about to take on a lot more work, Tessa. Largely, so I can continue to provide for his expenses. There’s no way I can keep an eye on him and make sure he’s not freaking out at every turn when an animal shows up. They kind of tend to around here. Plus, you saw where I live. And school. He may be on holiday right now, but you can’t rip him out of his school at this age. We agreed he needed to have his peers around him.”
“Yes, we agreed, but things have changed, okay? I tried...”
“No!” Nick appeared at the door to the cottage looking like an irate bull. Tessa and Mac both leaped off the log. “You liars! You selfish, little...” The trail of cussing that ensued had Tessa covering her face while Mac tried to get a calming word in edgewise. With the kid’s anger-fueled lungs, half the Serengeti had probably just gotten a ripe lesson in original insults.
“Nick,