The Promise of Rain (8 page)

“Lions are color-blind. The stripes blend in with the tall grass the zebras hide in. The patterning can also confuse predators who are trying to target a single victim. Just a few benefits to those stripes.” She wrinkled her nose and cocked her head playfully at the shared memory.

The chopper dipped again. This time, he didn’t even flinch.
Take that, Mac.
Jack looked out and gaped.
Oka-a-ay.
So death was evident, even from up here. And from here, that cheetah had blended into the backdrop so efficiently, she’d taken more than a gazelle by surprise. Jack was amazed.

Anna pressed her fingers against Jack’s shoulder to get his attention, though she already had it, and pointed to several different herds of elephants. And then it struck him.

His Anna was in her element.

* * *

S
OMETHING
WAS
OFF
.

Anna registered every nuance of the camp in one glance, a natural ability that had been enhanced by motherhood. Still, it took a second longer to pinpoint what was odd. She blamed the lag time on the air turbulence caused by Jack walking a step too close behind her. Their proximity in the chopper had been due to the cramped quarters. No other reason. That excuse was null and void now.

Kamau sat with Haki on a couple overturned buckets, playing a game of checkers on a board drawn with black marker on a cardboard box. The pieces were pebbles versus wood chips. Kamau had never sat around playing games with the kids before. Joking around here and there, showing them the animals, or playing a few rounds of catch or tag, sure. But total immersion? She hadn’t witnessed it. Plus, this was naptime, and Kamau usually did rounds at this hour. Especially since he was covering for Anna.

Kamau looked up, his lips twisting like a little boy caught playing hooky. Haki looked serious, as usual. A boy definitely cut out for checkers...or chess. He glanced over, but after spotting Jack, quickly propped his cheek against his little fist and turned his face away, toward his game.

“He doesn’t like me, does he?” Jack asked, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his khakis, clearly oblivious to things being out of sync.

Anna ignored him and instead shot Kamau an inquisitive look. He responded by nodding toward her quarters. Okay. So for some reason, Haki and Pippa had to be separated? They’d argued, but never to that extent.

“Why don’t you go hang out with the guys?” Anna said to Jack. She went to her tent without giving him an option.

Inside, Pippa lay peacefully on her cot. Her soft, rhythmic breathing told Anna she’d been asleep awhile. Niara, however, instead of reading a novel, as she typically did when the kids slept, stood staring out the back screen, arms folded and eyes wet.

“What’s happened?”

Her friend turned abruptly, wiping her cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Anna whispered. “Didn’t you hear me come in?”

“I must have been lost in thought,” Niara said with a dismissive wave.

“What’s going on? Why isn’t Haki in here?”

“The boy is getting older.”

“But he’s still young enough to nap, or read with you. He’s playing with Kamau, Niara. That’s a little different, no?”

Niara smiled wistfully, then smoothed her shirt. “Dr. Odaba is a good male role model,” she said.

“A male role—Niara, are you saying that you
like
Kamau? You know...
like?
”

“No! Of course not,” she said. But her cheeks said otherwise. “Haki started asking questions about his father. I think this whole thing with your Jack got his mind running. We were outside near the pens and everyone could hear, and he kept going on and on....”

“It’s okay,” Anna said, pulling her into a hug. She could feel the dampness of Niara’s tears on her shoulder. She knew how embarrassed her friend must have been, being taken off guard like that by her own son. Having something so painful, something she’d kept quiet about for so long, come out in front of the keepers. All men. And Anna could see Haki persisting in spite of it all. He was just a kid with questions. Questions, she thought with a pang of guilt, that had surfaced because of her.

Niara straightened, pulling herself together. “I’m okay. It was just unexpected. But Dr. Odaba—”

“Kamau. How many times has he said to call him that? You don’t call me Dr. Bekker. It’s okay to call him Kamau, Niara,” Anna added softly, watching for her friend’s reaction.

Niara looked down, barely holding back a smile. Well, it was about time. She had a thing for Kamau! Anna’s mind raced and her heart bubbled like a freshly popped can of soda. This was so perfect and so...

Anna took a calming breath. If she pressed, Niara, with her gazellelike grace and beauty, would bolt like prey sensing danger. From what she’d shared years ago, she didn’t
know
Haki’s father, but she’d never forget his face. Anna sympathized, but there was no way she could understand what it would take for Niara to trust again. Deep down, Anna couldn’t blame her, but she wanted to see her friend happy.

“Kamau,” Niara continued. “He stepped in, acting like he was in the mood for fun, and he told Haki to save his questions for a full stomach, because they were late for a special game they needed to play, man to man. He had him at ‘man.’”

The two women laughed quietly.

“Then he told me I could go put Pippa to sleep and he’d watch Haki. That was it.”

“I see,” Anna said. Not once had she picked up on any interest in Niara from Kamau. But he was stoic to the nth degree. Good at masking. He had to be, given the stuff he saw on the job. He was also intolerant of cruelty because of all he’d witnessed. Probably why he’d acted so quickly to distract Haki, even if the boy’s intentions were innocent.

“Oh, and I’m sorry for keeping him from doing whatever work you had to get done,” Niara added.

“It’s no problem. I can’t believe you’re worried about that right now. None of us could function without all you do, Niara. You deserve a break. I’m glad this wedding is tomorrow. You and I are going to take some girl time to get ready for it. And you know what?” Anna said. “When Haki asks again, just say what you’re comfortable with. Remember, he’s still little and curious, that’s all. He’s worried about Jack taking Pippa. He told me so. Tell him... Tell him we’re his family and we’re not going anywhere.”

Niara nodded. Anna hugged her then slipped outside. The men were still gathered around their game.

“So, who won?” Anna asked as she approached the guys. Kamau hung his head dramatically in his hands. Jack sat rocking on his heels, rubbing his chin as if he couldn’t figure out how it had happened.

“I did! Three times!” Haki said with a laugh. “I bet I can beat you, too, Auntie Anna.”

“I bet you could, but I have a job for you. How about you go and wake up Pippa so she can sleep tonight?”

“Okay.” Haki’s bucket stool scraped the dirt as he jumped up and ran to their quarters. Anna watched to be sure he got to his mom safely, then turned to Kamau and Jack, who stood looking as if all traces of their inner child were gone.

“Beaten by a six-year-old,” Anna said, shaking her head as she headed for the clinic. “That’s just sad, Kam.”

* * *

J
ACK
WATCHED
AS
Anna walked away.

“Do you play?” Kamau asked, gesturing toward the checkers. “I have chess pieces, too.”

“I’m too rusty,” Jack said, shaking his head. He preferred money-free card games.

“Guess it’s back to work, then,” the vet said.

“What? Oh, yeah,” Jack replied, distracted by how wonderful it was to see Anna acting relaxed. The way she’d been on the helicopter, and just now with Haki, Kamau and himself. It almost felt as if they’d always been together. As if he’d always been a part of the camp and their routines.

“So. You and Anna,” Kamau ventured. Jack shoved his hair back. This place was definitely smaller than a small town.

“Me and Anna. And Pippa.”

A moment of silent understanding passed as they both stared toward the clinic, arms folded.

“Don’t hurt her,” Kamau said.

“That’s not my intention.”
Liar.

“Why did you ever let her go, then?”

“I didn’t. She let me go. Never even told me I was a father.”

Jack felt Kamau turn his eyes on him.

“Did you love her, once?”

He did
not
just ask that.

“You don’t know me that well,” Jack said.

“I know Anna like a little sister. It’s my duty to ask.”

Jack stared him down. For crying out loud, who was he to argue with that? He liked that someone was looking out for her, and would be after he left. He hadn’t expected to be cornered with an interrogation, though. This was like being a teen on a first date.

“That’s inconsequential. Anna doesn’t believe in love, or marriage,” Jack said at last.
At least not anymore.

“Now
that
I have trouble believing.”

“Believe it.”

“And I never said anything about marriage,” Kamau added.

Jack narrowed his eyes at him. He’d been checkmated.

“I asked once, and she said no.”

Kamau cocked his head in silent sympathy, then they both looked back toward the clinic. Another moment passed.

“Look around, Jack. Dust. Desiccation. It’s hard to believe that deep beneath the surface, rivers of pure water branch far and wide from Kilimanjaro’s ice cap, pulsing like arteries. In a drought that has lasted this long, even that meltwater becomes hard to reach. But it’s there.”

“Dig deep enough.”

“Ah, see. You catch on quick. You did earn that PhD.” Kamau grinned.

“I did. And I’m also smart enough to know when no means no.”

Kamau frowned and Jack sensed something more intense in his face.

“All life comes to an end,” the vet finally said. “In the Serengeti, it can happen during drought or it can happen during flood. Some have no choice, but you get to pick your path, Jack. With the heart of a woman, or without.”

“And are you with or without?”

“Without.”

“What a waste. Seriously, man. All that poetic wisdom and no woman to woo it with.” Jack shook his head and laughed. He slapped Kamau’s shoulder, then headed for the clinic.

“Wait a minute. Are you making fun of me? I don’t
woo.
Nobody
woos
anymore,” Kamau said, stalking behind him.

“Nobody I know is that poetic, either, Romeo.”

Jack chuckled as he entered the clinic. Both he and Kamau cleared their throats and switched gears at the sight of Anna hunched over her worktable. She had earphones on and was presumably studying her latest recordings. Jack pretended not to notice, and went straight to his lab equipment. He needed to make sure the newer samples were in good shape for dropping off with Dr. Alwanga in Nairobi. A staff member had driven the first ones to the Amboseli airstrip, where they’d been flown out. As for Anna, Kamau was right with his advice...except for one thing. The path to her had long since washed away.

CHAPTER SIX

A
NNA
SO
WANTED
to splurge on a two-bucket shower.

She couldn’t, though. Not with how low the water pressure had gotten the past few days. The last thing they needed was the well drying up. There were plenty of underground streams, but the cost of digging another well... Wouldn’t Jack and Miller have fun with that one.

One-bucket shower it was. Just as soon as she found Niara, so they could play guard for one another. They had a curtained stall in a smaller tent adjacent to theirs reserved for them and the kids. The men had their own, but a girl couldn’t be too careful. It was something Niara had insisted on.

As run-down as Anna felt, things were on track. The orphans were doing well. All the keepers were set with instructions on what to do, since Kamau would also be attending the wedding. No vets would be on hand, so she’d decided they’d leave Ahron in charge. He’d been with them the longest and was a trusted member of the team. Jack would be able to use the time to finish up with his “inspection.” Maybe he’d even luck out and find some way to shut her down. Or maybe she’d luck out and he’d give up—on everything—and leave.

The look on his face when they were flying... She’d gotten to him. She just knew he was starting to appreciate what a wonderful place this was, and recognize the significance of her work. And besides that, he didn’t seem to be going out of his way to spend time with Pippa. Sure, Anna understood work and camp demands, but other than mealtimes, he seemed to be holding himself back. Maybe he was realizing that raising a child wasn’t a clean-cut science. That a kid wasn’t some simple organism you could inoculate a petri dish with, slip the cover on and watch grow.

She wrapped her arms around herself in spite of the heat, squeezing against the guilt that welled in her gut. Gosh. He did know. That was why he was holding back. He knew firsthand.

She closed her eyes against the memory of his first day at her middle school. The new kid. The one everyone had singled out as different. If there was anything Anna couldn’t stand, it was cruelty and snobbery, which was why she began sitting next to him at lunch. Lunch had extended into library period and pretty soon she wasn’t doing it deliberately. She’d begun enjoying his company. His kindness and humble nature. Hanging out with him felt natural and easy.

The Jack she’d cared about deserved so much more than this—he deserved to have his child in his life. But there wasn’t a way around it. If they lived in the same area—the same country—that would be one thing, but they didn’t. And Pippa was staying with her mother. No ifs, ands or buts.

Anna approached the mess tent, but could tell from the angle of light through the screens that no one was there. Where was everyone? Squeals and giggles penetrated the airy space. Anna rounded the back of the tent to a clearing normally used for hang-drying laundry on a plastic cord that ran between a corner of one wooden tent frame and a tree. She peered around a sheet that was clothespinned to the cord. Niara stood laughing in the periphery of the clearing as Jack jumped around with Pippa perched on his shoulders, her tiny hands gripping fistfuls of his hair. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Then what did the copter do, Daddy?”

“It dipped like this,” Jack said, swooping down, then up again, slow enough not to drop Pippa, but fast enough to give her a thrill. Belly giggles filled the air, followed by hiccups. “And the cheetah did this....” Keeping one hand securely on Pippa’s ankle, Jack ran to Haki and scooped him up with his free arm. The three of them swung in a circle. Even Haki laughed. Oh, and the racket Ambosi was making in a nearby elephant pepper tree made his view on the scene loud and clear.

One and a half rotations and Anna was spotted. Jack set the kids down and both ran to Niara, looking back at Jack, who snarled playfully, like a predator.

“That’s it, guys,” he said, catching his breath. He raked his disheveled hair back. “Any more and I’ll be as bald as an elephant’s—toenail.” He looked right at Anna, then winked and gave her a crooked smile.

That smile.

Heaven help her.

* * *

“Y
OU
DID
WHAT
?” Anna said, digging through her sack of toiletries.

“You heard me,” said Niara.

Anna pulled out a stick of clear lip gloss that hadn’t been used in over a year, and swiped it across her mouth. She rubbed her lips together and was treated to the taste of strawberries. “I heard you, but I can’t believe you did that to me.”

“Come on, Anna. You know you can’t just leave him here. It’s wrong. Even Kamau agrees.”

“
Kamau
agrees?” In all these years, Anna was certain she hadn’t heard Niara call Kamau by his first name. Even after Anna had encouraged her to stop calling him Dr. Odaba. She’d finally listened. Interesting. “So you discussed this with him?” Anna asked.

“Not exactly a discussion. But I did ask his opinion, and he agreed. So that’s that. Dr. Harper is coming with us to the wedding. Besides, you wanted him to see the love and beauty here, where you’re raising Pippa. What better place to experience that than a Masai wedding?”

Anna had never seen Niara’s face glow or her eyes spark with such excitement. Did this constitute a double date? Oh, for crying out loud. Where had that thought come from? Anna put her gloss back in the sack and gave the drawstring a hard tug.

“Fine,” she said, then smirked at Niara. “At least we know he can jump.”

* * *

J
ACK
HAD
BEEN
an outsider many, many times, but apart from the day he was adopted, he’d never felt so warmly welcomed. He stood next to Kamau, Niara, Haki and Anna, who carried Pippa on her hip, and watched the wedding, mesmerized by the rhythmic singing—more like calling out in chanting chorus—the colorful orange and red wraps, the long wooden staffs held by the Masai men, the beads woven together like the wide brim of a hat bouncing around the necks of the Masai women as they jumped in place. Everyone jumped. A lot. The sight was nothing short of amazing. So phenomenally different from any church wedding Jack had ever attended. He noticed Niara and Anna bending their knees in rhythm.

“Have you been to one of these before?” he asked Anna.

“A few. Here at this homestead. Most of the Masai here are related to Ahron, so we know them. They’ve been good friends of the camp and the animals,” she said, shifting Pippa to her other hip.

“The jumping?”

“Everyone dances differently,” she said. “You should try it. For the men, it’s a competition.”

“I don’t have a staff.”

Anna grinned. “The staff is supposed to be a sign of...manliness,” she said, shifting Pippa again. Jack reached out and put a hand over their daughter’s eyes. Anna laughed. “Virility, Jack. She’s young enough to be clueless.”

“Here, let me carry her.”

Anna hesitated before letting Jack relieve her of Pippa’s weight. “Make sure you at least hold her hand if you put her down,” she said. “She, um, disappeared in the crowd at the last one we attended. I mean, she was safe and all—one of the girls brought her to me—but I’d rather she didn’t disrupt things.”

“Got it.”

“What’s diswupt?” Pippa asked.

“It means I don’t want anyone tripping on you. Besides, you get a better view from up here,” Anna said, reaching out and wiggling Pippa’s button nose in a gentle pinch. In turn, Pippa pinch-wiggled Jack’s nose.

“I did that once,” Anna added with a frown. “I ran off in a department store. My mom freaked and called Security. Now I know how she felt.”

“Got it, Anna. I won’t let her go. You can...mingle or whatever, if you want.”

Anna nodded and whispered something to Niara. Jack put his hand on Anna’s arm and she turned before walking off.

“Let me guess. They found you in the toy aisle. Right?”

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then she looked down at Pippa’s dangling foot and fingered the strap on her tiny sandal.

“No,” she said, and left without elaborating.

Jack watched her and Niara, both beaming, approach the women, who warmly encouraged them to join their celebration. Anna looked vibrant. Her hair, worn down today instead of pulled back, bounced around her face. Her skin glowed with pure, natural beauty, framed by a peasant-style lavender shirt, a shock of color compared to the mute khaki button-downs she wore daily.

“Stare at her any longer and you might miss the entire wedding,” said Kamau.

“I’m not staring,” Jack insisted, jumping up and down with Pippa a few times as proof. Kamau grinned.

“You’re good with her,” Kamau said, nodding toward them. Jack didn’t know how to respond. Holding his little girl was starting to feel...normal. He didn’t want to be good with her. He wanted to be great with her. “What are you planning to do? About the situation, I mean.”

Jack glanced at Kamau, then back at the group of men chanting and jumping with their staffs around one particularly tall fellow, whom he assumed to be the groom. Beyond the group, under the shade of a cluster of trees, an older man stirred a giant pot in what appeared to be an outdoor kitchen of sorts.

The women in the group echoed their chanted responses to the men. Their giant earrings glistened in the sunlight as they moved, but Anna’s face stole the show for Jack. She looked carefree. She looked as if she’d let her guard down, even with him present. But he knew that wouldn’t last.

“I’m planning to do the right thing,” he said to Kamau. “I have responsibilities now.”

“You miss the point,” the vet said. “You’re thinking with your head.”

Jack raised a brow at him. “I hear words of wisdom coming. Let me give you some first. Thinking with anything else gets a man in trouble.”

Kamau shook his head and laughed. “Man, I’m talking about this.” He pointed to his own chest. “Doing what’s in here is the only way to ensure you’re doing what is right. You’re a scientist. Scientists would be failures if they did not listen to their hearts. Their gut instincts. Communication, Jack, is a powerful thing, and it’s even more accurate when it happens between the mind and heart. Without it, where would our species be? Any species, for that matter? The heart and mind should not be exclusive of one another.”

“So what are
they
saying?” Jack asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Giving thanks, wishing a fruitful life full of energy and keeping enemies away,” Kamau said, scoping the crowd. “I wonder where the groom’s brother is? I was going to introduce you, because he told me not long ago that he wanted to try and save up to go to college. He has his sights set on exploring the world. America, perhaps. I didn’t want to discourage him, because times are tough, but I figured meeting you would be exciting for him.”

“Sure. Let me know if you spot him.” Jack hoisted Pippa onto his shoulders to balance her weight more evenly. Amazing how a little thing like her could strain a guy’s back with all the squirming. There were so many people, so much going on. And as unique an experience as it was, he wanted tomorrow to come. He needed to accomplish something concrete toward sorting out the whole mess. Something solid and secure to calm the waves that kept rippling through his chest.

Pippa reached down and covered his eyes.

“Hah! Who did that?” he said, grabbing her hands and peering up at her. More giggles. This kid didn’t run out of them. He straightened, and caught Kamau watching Niara. Jack wouldn’t be surprised if the whole “groom’s brother” thing had been a cover-up so he could steel glimpses of her and Haki.

“And you’re doing what’s so obviously in your heart,” Jack said. “Way to practice what you preach.”

Kamau went from surprise to sheepishness. “This case is different. Leaving her alone is the right thing. She was the victim of a violent act. A relationship, or trusting a man, isn’t possible for her right now. I’m there for anyone who needs me at camp, her and Haki included—even Anna. But beyond that? No. My work is dangerous and demanding. Keeping my distance is the best I can do. She’s a great mother. She’s all that boy needs.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve put a lot of thought into it. I mean, considering you have no feelings for her or anything like that,” Jack said with mock sincerity. “I’m sure this constitutes nothing but scientific analysis.”

“I should feed you to the lions,” Kamau said.

“No!” Pippa jumped in. His little girl was defending him.

Jack kissed her tiny fist. “He’s kidding, honey.”

“He’s right, Pippa. Instead, we should lock him in a pen with Ambosi and a bucket of pepper tree plums,” Kamau said, making a silly face so that she would understand the humor.

Pippa did. She started wriggling and pawing through his hair like a monkey, and before Jack could set her down, she threw herself backward. He hung on to her ankles in a panic and Kamau grabbed her from behind, getting her off Jack’s back safely.

“Pippa!” Anna said, running up.

“She’s fine,” Jack and Kamau said simultaneously.

“She could have fallen on her head,” Anna replied.

“I had her the whole time,” Jack said. “Really.”

“Yes, I could see that.” Nonetheless, Anna led Pippa back to where Niara stood. Jack knew he and Kamau looked like idiots standing there, staring after the women.

“They don’t need us, do they?” he asked, but it came out like a statement. An affirmation.

Kamau grimaced. That was answer enough.

* * *

W
ITH
TOO
MANY
of them for Mac’s charter helicopter, Anna had booked seats to Nairobi on a plane from Amboseli National Park’s airstrip. The drive there, piled in an open Jeep, had left them coated in dust that clung to them all the way to Nairobi.

The airport was bustling and the crowds put Anna on guard. She strapped her tote across her chest so that it hung safely in front of her. She shifted Pippa on her hip, unwilling to trust the little girl not to pull free and disappear. Anna grabbed one of Haki’s hands, while Niara took the other.

According to Jack, he’d taken care of their accommodations. They had all packed lightly and efficiently for the brief trip. He took their carry-on bags and, surprisingly, led them through the crowd as if he’d lived in Nairobi all his life.