Wild Rain
Page 38

Drake nodded, all the while keeping a wary eye on the clouded leopard. “Kim was in bad shape. They didn’t believe him that she’d gone overboard into the river. He was beaten.”
Rachael made a small, strangled sound. Rio slid his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture.
“They beat ever yone, even the woman,” Kim reported grimly. He looked at Rachael. “They aren’t going to give up looking for you unless they find your body. Someone offered a million-dollar reward for you.”
Rachael closed her eyes against the sudden despair sweeping through her. She hadn’t considered that much money. People killed for far less. What would a million dollars mean to the men facing her?
“That explains a lot,” Rio said. He sighed softly. “Drake, my medical supplies are running a little low, but I’ve got enough to clean up Kim and pack his wounds.”
“I’ll get the plants we need,” Tama said. “We didn’t stop for anything, we hurried to check on you.” He left the house abruptly.
“I appreciate that,” Rio answered. He sank into the chair beside Rachael, casually shifting her, careful of her leg beneath the blanket, settling her partially onto his thigh, arranging her leg and the blanket to his satisfaction. He waved at the others to find seats.
“What is it?” Drake asked as he rummaged through the medical bag. “What does a million dollars explain?”
“I had a visitor last night. One of ours; one I didn’t recognize. A traitor, Drake. I couldn’t imagine what would induce one of ours to turn traitor, but a million dollars can go to a man’s head.”
Rachael stayed very quiet, aware the information being passed back and forth was important to her.
She hoped they forgot about her presence and would speak more openly.
“How could he have been one of ours if you didn’t recognize his scent, Rio?” Drake didn’t look up from where he was washing Kim’s wounds.
Rachael couldn’t bear to look at Kim’s swollen, bruised face. He was stoic as Drake cleansed the lacerations, but as he shrugged out of his torn shirt, she saw him wince. He turned slightly and she gasped. “What did they do to you?”
Rio slipped his arm around her. “Those marks are made from caning. The bandits are known for using a cane on their victims. Tomas is notorious for it. I don’t think we’ve brought out a single kidnap victim without evidence and tales of caning.”
Rachael turned her face into Rio’s shoulder. “I’ m sorr y, Kim, I didn’t want anyone hurt. I thought if I slipped into the river, they’d think I drowned.”
“They would have found another reason to cane him,” Rio said, his fingers massaging the nape of her neck. “Tomas is sick. He enjoys other people’s pain.”
“What he says is the truth, Miss Wilson,” Kim agreed.
“Rachael. Call me Rachael, please.”
“She has trouble with her last name,” Rio offered.
Rachael glared at him. “You’re just so funny. You should be a stand-up comedian.”
“I didn’t even know Rio had a sense of humor,” Drake said, tossing a boyish grin over his shoulder at Rio.
“I don’t,” Rio answered ominously.
Tama hurried in, carrying several plants and roots. “These will heal you fast, Kim, and perhaps the cat too.”
“Did you send word to your father that you found Kim alive?” Rio asked.
“Right away. The wind carried the news. He will see the vision in his dreams and know Kim is well,”
Tama answered, busily tearing strips off one of the plants and throwing shredded green stems into a pot.
Rachael frowned as Rio nodded. “Is he saying Kim’s father will dream he’s alive and know it’s true?”
“Their father is powerful medicine man. The real thing. I believe he knows more about the plants in the forest, poisons, and visions than any man alive. If they sent him the news, he’ll pick it up in a vision, or dream, if you prefer to call it that,” Rio explained.
Rio didn’t sound as if he were teasing her, but she found the idea of sending news via visions a bit difficult to believe. “You don’t really think they can do that, do you?”
“I know they can do it. I’ve seen it done. I’ m not good at sending visions, but I’ve been on the receiving end. It’s better than the mail here in the forest,” Rio said.
Drake nodded in agreement. “Visions are dicey things, Rachael. You have to be adept at interpreting them.”
“Rachael?” Rio arched his eyebrow at Drake in warning.
“She asked to be called Rachael,” Drake pointed out, looking innocent. “I was being polite.”
A strange odor rose from the pot where Tama pressed leaves, petals, stems and roots from various plants into a thick paste. It wasn’t unpleasant, but smelled of mint and flowers, orange and spice.
Fascinated, Rachael watched carefully, ignoring the exchange between the men. “What is that?”
Tama smiled at her. “This will prevent infection.” He tilted the pot so she could see the brownish-green paste.
“Will it work on Fritz?” Rachael asked. “His wounds are draining and Rio’s been worried about him.”
“The leopard attacked him, nearly killed him,” Rio supplied. “He knew enough about me to know I’d choose to save Fritz and try to track him later.”